Post by boris999 on Mar 24, 2009 11:24:55 GMT -5
((Yeah, like the title says...just felt like writing for a bit and had high fantasy on my mind so decided to randomly join this forum(and i love it) write it down. As you can see its pretty much just an introduction right now and I dunno if I have the patience to write a proper full story. Just wanna know if my writing ability is anything close to the ability requiered to write a good story, possibly even a big long story
... also...first post!
))
The air burned as Rhaistlin created another fireball of magical flames and with a simple gesture of his hand directed it at one of the raiding bandits. The Thieving Blades, one of the more prominent bandit groups of the area had decided that this slowly moving caravan was to be their next victim and had attacked in significant force. As his targets burned in agony, Rhaistlin turned his attention to almost a dozen bandits who had decided an elderly man was an easy target. It was to be an unfortunate turn of luck for them though, for this was not just any elder, but Archmage Zalin, Rhaistlin’s master and mentor and one of the more powerful mages the Magical City of Arcanum had ever produced. The archmage certainly required no help despite being overwhelmed by numbers and Rhaistlin knew that which is why he now turned towards the rest of his company.
While some of the guards of the caravan they had been travelling with had been killed when they were first attacked, the bandits had not accounted for the abilities of others who had been travelling with the merchant caravan. Lukas, Rhaistlin’s best friend and a fledging swordsman-in-training was seen singlehandedly fending of several bandits with his blade. Eregor, Lukas’ mentor, was weaving in and out of whole crowds of bandits, his blades flashing in the sunlight causing all men he came within a metre of to collapse a moment later from a single clean cut to a vital artery. The Blademaster certainly wasn’t one of the most feared warriors during the second war for no reason, Eregor had felled hundreds of skilled warriors in his time... only a few scars decorating his body, a testament of his formidable skills.
Rhaistlin froze a bandit sneaking up on Lukas in place with a spell, the bandit finding in surprise that his limbs were no longer willing to obey him. The next moment he was cut down as Lukas noticed him. This battle was never going to last long. The bandits that had survived, finding themselves outclassed, had decided to retreat back to the safety of the trees. Rhaistlin looked around the area, counting only a few casualties from the caravan. His master, Archmage Zalin, had long since mopped up with his assailants and was sitting on a tree stump, his eyes closed, his breathing somewhat heavy from the effort of conjuring magic from his elderly body.
“Hey Rhai, that was quiet some battle don’t you reckon?” Lukas was approaching him, his sword already wiped clean of blood.
Rhaistlin simply nodded in responce
“Come on you need lighten up Rhai, how good was the move where I –“
“You brag too much, Lukas,” Eregor had appeared up beside the two young men while they were talking.
“I don’t brag, I just tell it how it is,” Lukas retorted
“tell it how it is, eh? How about then we talk about how you decided to forget everything I taught you when one of them came at you from the side...what have I told you about using offensive strikes when you are being charged? How about when...” Eregor lectured, his face fixed in dissaproval.
“Ok, ok, forgive me... I got caught up in the fight,” Lukas replied, his face reddening in shame.
“Never forget your training...EVER!” Eregor continued, “Still you did very well for your first real fight,” he added, a smile appearing on his face.
Rhaistlin stood quietly observing the two arguing. Lukas was a well built young man, his muscles well defined and strong...although not big to the point of inhibiting his speed and agility. His brown hair tied back in a wild pony tail, Lukas was the very image of the boisterous person that he was. Eregor wasn’t too different from Lukas. While the older man had developed a lot more sense from experience, Rhaistlin had no doubt that the strong, skilled warrior had once been just as wild as Lukas was and while age had made him quieter he often showed glimpses of the young, wild kid he had very likely once been.
Rhaistlin, himself, wasn’t a particularly remarkable person. Sporting dirty blonde hair and dressed in the blue apprentice robes that all mages in training wore he didn’t have the skinny figure that many of the other mages developed from years of hard study. A result probably of frequently getting dragged around the city by Lukas looking for “Little Adventures” as his friend liked to term it. The only thing at all that was at all out of the ordinary in Rhaistlin’s appearance were his bright Azure eyes which sparked just as brilliantly in the darkness as in the light. His master had speculated that they were perhaps a hint of distant Elven heritage.
“Stop arguing and let’s get moving...The caravan is ready to continue,” A familiar voice spoke, quietly but so as to be heard.
While Rhaistlin was watching his friend talking to his mentor, Archmage Zalin had approached them. Both Lukas and Eregar did not argue. Quickly they gathered up their belongings and mounted their steeds. Rhaistlin also heeded his master’s instructions by getting on Silvershadow, a fine white mustang he had picked out as an 18th birthday present from the Archmage just a month ago.
Soon they were all mounted on their horses and ready to move.
“All ready? Let us go then. On to Arcanum!” Zalin said
... also...first post!
))The air burned as Rhaistlin created another fireball of magical flames and with a simple gesture of his hand directed it at one of the raiding bandits. The Thieving Blades, one of the more prominent bandit groups of the area had decided that this slowly moving caravan was to be their next victim and had attacked in significant force. As his targets burned in agony, Rhaistlin turned his attention to almost a dozen bandits who had decided an elderly man was an easy target. It was to be an unfortunate turn of luck for them though, for this was not just any elder, but Archmage Zalin, Rhaistlin’s master and mentor and one of the more powerful mages the Magical City of Arcanum had ever produced. The archmage certainly required no help despite being overwhelmed by numbers and Rhaistlin knew that which is why he now turned towards the rest of his company.
While some of the guards of the caravan they had been travelling with had been killed when they were first attacked, the bandits had not accounted for the abilities of others who had been travelling with the merchant caravan. Lukas, Rhaistlin’s best friend and a fledging swordsman-in-training was seen singlehandedly fending of several bandits with his blade. Eregor, Lukas’ mentor, was weaving in and out of whole crowds of bandits, his blades flashing in the sunlight causing all men he came within a metre of to collapse a moment later from a single clean cut to a vital artery. The Blademaster certainly wasn’t one of the most feared warriors during the second war for no reason, Eregor had felled hundreds of skilled warriors in his time... only a few scars decorating his body, a testament of his formidable skills.
Rhaistlin froze a bandit sneaking up on Lukas in place with a spell, the bandit finding in surprise that his limbs were no longer willing to obey him. The next moment he was cut down as Lukas noticed him. This battle was never going to last long. The bandits that had survived, finding themselves outclassed, had decided to retreat back to the safety of the trees. Rhaistlin looked around the area, counting only a few casualties from the caravan. His master, Archmage Zalin, had long since mopped up with his assailants and was sitting on a tree stump, his eyes closed, his breathing somewhat heavy from the effort of conjuring magic from his elderly body.
“Hey Rhai, that was quiet some battle don’t you reckon?” Lukas was approaching him, his sword already wiped clean of blood.
Rhaistlin simply nodded in responce
“Come on you need lighten up Rhai, how good was the move where I –“
“You brag too much, Lukas,” Eregor had appeared up beside the two young men while they were talking.
“I don’t brag, I just tell it how it is,” Lukas retorted
“tell it how it is, eh? How about then we talk about how you decided to forget everything I taught you when one of them came at you from the side...what have I told you about using offensive strikes when you are being charged? How about when...” Eregor lectured, his face fixed in dissaproval.
“Ok, ok, forgive me... I got caught up in the fight,” Lukas replied, his face reddening in shame.
“Never forget your training...EVER!” Eregor continued, “Still you did very well for your first real fight,” he added, a smile appearing on his face.
Rhaistlin stood quietly observing the two arguing. Lukas was a well built young man, his muscles well defined and strong...although not big to the point of inhibiting his speed and agility. His brown hair tied back in a wild pony tail, Lukas was the very image of the boisterous person that he was. Eregor wasn’t too different from Lukas. While the older man had developed a lot more sense from experience, Rhaistlin had no doubt that the strong, skilled warrior had once been just as wild as Lukas was and while age had made him quieter he often showed glimpses of the young, wild kid he had very likely once been.
Rhaistlin, himself, wasn’t a particularly remarkable person. Sporting dirty blonde hair and dressed in the blue apprentice robes that all mages in training wore he didn’t have the skinny figure that many of the other mages developed from years of hard study. A result probably of frequently getting dragged around the city by Lukas looking for “Little Adventures” as his friend liked to term it. The only thing at all that was at all out of the ordinary in Rhaistlin’s appearance were his bright Azure eyes which sparked just as brilliantly in the darkness as in the light. His master had speculated that they were perhaps a hint of distant Elven heritage.
“Stop arguing and let’s get moving...The caravan is ready to continue,” A familiar voice spoke, quietly but so as to be heard.
While Rhaistlin was watching his friend talking to his mentor, Archmage Zalin had approached them. Both Lukas and Eregar did not argue. Quickly they gathered up their belongings and mounted their steeds. Rhaistlin also heeded his master’s instructions by getting on Silvershadow, a fine white mustang he had picked out as an 18th birthday present from the Archmage just a month ago.
Soon they were all mounted on their horses and ready to move.
“All ready? Let us go then. On to Arcanum!” Zalin said
