Hi everyone this is my first post in the Personal Writing forum, I really enjoy writing and a lot of people say I'm pretty good at it this is something I did for school last year (at 2 o clock in the morning the day before it was due, I hate deadlines :sweat:) This most definately is not my best writing, and it is not very well thought out, let me know what you think....
Knight Tale
{Step, creak, step creak… A shadowed figure floated down the cold stone corridor… step creak, step, creak, a faint glimmer of light spread its thin fingers outwards from its center…step , creak, step , creak. The figure stops, and slowly lights one candle after another, it is raining outside, there are intermittent flashes of lightning and cracks f thunder, thickly muffled by the walls of stone, they seem distant at best, a stronger glow now arises from the quickly growing number of candles, many more are lit now the shadowy figure continues to tip and light his one candle and birth its flame and give rise to many other, the figure stops having created a small bonfire of individual miniscule flames, each bound to the other by fine wispy strands of yellow light. The yellow orange glow illuminates the shadowy figures face. A priest. . He is old and drawn, his creases are deep and he has wild grey hair, matted by rainwater and a hood, it is tamed and timid. The priest crosses himself, and begins to mutter a prayer. So many deaths, so many in the service of God, in the service of spreading his word. God have mercy on their souls, and God see their service through. The priest sat still, holding a silent reverie to his creator, his father, the almighty. “ In the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Ghost, Our saviour Jesus Christ, amen” The priest reaches for the nearby candle cap, to begin to slowly end each candle’s short fiery life, as if in sacrifice to god, to a god that no longer requires sacrifices, but doesn’t refuse them nonetheless. He taps the candle cap gently to each flame. Tap sfit, tap sfit, tap sfit, tap sfit… The ancient priest continues, thinking of his warm bed awaiting him nearby… THWOMP! The doors, which the priest had gently pried open on his way in and gently slid shut again , are thrown wide on their hinges. The priest rises. “Who calls on this hour?” he demands. In steps another shadowy figure, similar to the priest, yet, stronger taller looking. A flash of lightning illuminates the standing figure, his garb is dark, his features obscured, he looks a demon, ghastly and deformed. The priest’s breath catches in his throat…
“Sir Father, forgive my intrusion but my friends and I have no where else to go, may we stay the night here within the walls of god? For surely there is no safer place on earth.” The man steps forward into the dim candlelight, revealing not a hideous beast, but a man, simply clad, and rugged, his features chiseled sharply. A glint of metal betrays his hidden suit of armor beneath. This man is a knight.
“Aye sir knight, you have my leave and the leave of the almighty, all are welcome within these walls.”
The knight motions to his fellows, who had been stashing the horses in the nearby stables, just for the night. Into the stone chamber of god stride 2 more simply clad knights. They closed the doors behind them and lowered their hoods. They were drenched from head to toe.
“Might you have a name sir knight?” asked the priest cautiously.
The knight gave a slight bow and stated quietly ,” I am called Sir Thomas of the Ebony Rod, and theses are my two close friends Sir Lupine of the Riven Shield, and Sir Martin of the Crimson Helm.” The priest could hardly believe his ears, these were three of the most widely known knights in the world, and they now stood before him. The priest gave the man a similar bow in return.
“ I am Father Marcus, welcome to our church.”
Sir Thomas of the Ebony Rod was so named for the short black wooden staff he carried. It was said to be made of a material so dense that no one on earth could break it or every dent it. He used this staff instead of a sword, because it wouldn’t kill as easily, for he loved human life and did not enjoy ending it. Sir Lupine of the Riven Shield carried a gilded shield that had been cloven in two by a lightning bolt. In battle he wore one half on each arm and as he battled with his infamous sword Nadoc, which was inlayed with numerous Sapphires, he could not be struck by any blow, except to his fabulous shield, which was inlaid with Sapphires as well. Sir Martin of the Crimson Helm was so called not only for the numerous rubies that studded his infamous spiked helm, but for the blood that stained its surfaces. For in battle Martin was known to be merciless and would often gore his opponent with his sharply spiked helm to finish him off. Father Marcus thought back on the stories he had heard of these men as he was getting some food and tea for a late night meal with the 3 mysterious companions. Where were they headed and what were they doing here in his small town. He hurried back to find the three men sitting in front of a cheery blaze in his rectory fireplace. They all feasted on cheese, bread, meat, and a bottle of wine. It wasn’t much but it was the best the priest could come up with on such short notice .
“ Sir Thomas, how come you three to our simple village? Do you pan to stay awhile or are you just passing through?” Father Marcus asked after several minutes of forethought in silence.
“ Well father, we , we being Lupine and Martin and I, might be here for a few days, or we might leave as soon as day breaks the day after tomorrow, it all depends on whether or not the man we seek has been by here recently. We may have passed him by and he could be on his way to this town, we were trying to overtake him so that we could catch him at unawares from the front. We shall see.” The priest took a few moments to register this and said.
“You three are the first visitors we’ve had come by here in several weeks at least, so the man you seek probably hasn’t passed through yet. Why do you pursue him so valiantly?”
“He has wronged us and many others at the same time. He is an evil sorcerer who let loose an evil plague which followed him and his path. Killing several of our closest friends. Including my beloved wife...” Sir Thomas closed his eyes and several tears escaped them. Sir Lupine continued for him.
“This plague overtook Sir Caldrive of the Swollen Heart, Sir Niles of the Piercing Eyes, and several other worthy and great knights, as well as countless others. Women, children, strong armed men, all of them have died. It is only by luck that we have managed to escape a similar fate. This plague is terrible. It makes the afflicted bleed through the eyes, and vomit ochre bile till they are so weakened that they pass into the next world. It has been dubbed The Crimson Maelstrom, for the amount of blood it drives from the victims’ bodies.” Sir Thomas was weeping quietly, mourning his lost love, Sir Martin looked into the fire, deep rage burning in his heart. Sir Lupine continued
“This evil sorcerer is known as Magnalimon. He is skilled in both witchcraft and combat. We have faced him twice now and he has beaten us back. Thus we pursue him.”
Father Marcus was once again astounded, now an all too familiar feeling. If this evil man had been able to hold off the fury of these three powerful knights then he must have been empowered by Lucifer himself. And what’s worse, this evil man was headed to his peaceful village.
“So this evil sorcerer is heading to my village, what shall happen if he passes by unhindered?”
“He shall do the same to this village as he did to every other one he passed through. Take what he needs, and leave the Crimson Maelstrom in his wake. So far no one has survived this disease for more than 3 days. If he’s not stopped your village will be a dead place to live within the week.” Sir Lupine said quietly. Sir Martin now finally spoke, his voice was rough and thick with emotions.
“Let us be to bed Father Marcus. We can speak more of this in the morning, even in the house of God evil is more bold at night if you call it forth.” With that Father Marcus bid them all goodnight, and went back to his soft warm bed, though it felt much less soft and warm than it had before …}
The whole idea was we had to make up our own knight and he had to have a color and somethin unique about him, so I made 3 (shrugs) Hope you enjoyed!
Thanks
S/M
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{Step, creak, step creak… A shadowed figure floated down the cold stone corridor… step creak, step, creak, a faint glimmer of light spread its thin fingers outwards from its center…step , creak, step , creak. The figure stops, and slowly lights one candle after another, it is raining outside, there are intermittent flashes of lightning and cracks f thunder, thickly muffled by the walls of stone, they seem distant at best, a stronger glow now arises from the quickly growing number of candles, many more are lit now the shadowy figure continues to tip and light his one candle and birth its flame and give rise to many other, the figure stops having created a small bonfire of individual miniscule flames, each bound to the other by fine wispy strands of yellow light. The yellow orange glow illuminates the shadowy figures face. A priest. . He is old and drawn, his creases are deep and he has wild grey hair, matted by rainwater and a hood, it is tamed and timid. The priest crosses himself, and begins to mutter a prayer. So many deaths, so many in the service of God, in the service of spreading his word. God have mercy on their souls, and God see their service through. The priest sat still, holding a silent reverie to his creator, his father, the almighty. “ In the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Ghost, Our saviour Jesus Christ, amen” The priest reaches for the nearby candle cap, to begin to slowly end each candle’s short fiery life, as if in sacrifice to god, to a god that no longer requires sacrifices, but doesn’t refuse them nonetheless. He taps the candle cap gently to each flame. Tap sfit, tap sfit, tap sfit, tap sfit… The ancient priest continues, thinking of his warm bed awaiting him nearby… THWOMP! The doors, which the priest had gently pried open on his way in and gently slid shut again , are thrown wide on their hinges. The priest rises. “Who calls on this hour?” he demands. In steps another shadowy figure, similar to the priest, yet, stronger taller looking. A flash of lightning illuminates the standing figure, his garb is dark, his features obscured, he looks a demon, ghastly and deformed. The priest’s breath catches in his throat…
“Sir Father, forgive my intrusion but my friends and I have no where else to go, may we stay the night here within the walls of god? For surely there is no safer place on earth.” The man steps forward into the dim candlelight, revealing not a hideous beast, but a man, simply clad, and rugged, his features chiseled sharply. A glint of metal betrays his hidden suit of armor beneath. This man is a knight.
“Aye sir knight, you have my leave and the leave of the almighty, all are welcome within these walls.”
The knight motions to his fellows, who had been stashing the horses in the nearby stables, just for the night. Into the stone chamber of god stride 2 more simply clad knights. They closed the doors behind them and lowered their hoods. They were drenched from head to toe.
“Might you have a name sir knight?” asked the priest cautiously.
The knight gave a slight bow and stated quietly ,” I am called Sir Thomas of the Ebony Rod, and theses are my two close friends Sir Lupine of the Riven Shield, and Sir Martin of the Crimson Helm.” The priest could hardly believe his ears, these were three of the most widely known knights in the world, and they now stood before him. The priest gave the man a similar bow in return.
“ I am Father Marcus, welcome to our church.”
Sir Thomas of the Ebony Rod was so named for the short black wooden staff he carried. It was said to be made of a material so dense that no one on earth could break it or every dent it. He used this staff instead of a sword, because it wouldn’t kill as easily, for he loved human life and did not enjoy ending it. Sir Lupine of the Riven Shield carried a gilded shield that had been cloven in two by a lightning bolt. In battle he wore one half on each arm and as he battled with his infamous sword Nadoc, which was inlayed with numerous Sapphires, he could not be struck by any blow, except to his fabulous shield, which was inlaid with Sapphires as well. Sir Martin of the Crimson Helm was so called not only for the numerous rubies that studded his infamous spiked helm, but for the blood that stained its surfaces. For in battle Martin was known to be merciless and would often gore his opponent with his sharply spiked helm to finish him off. Father Marcus thought back on the stories he had heard of these men as he was getting some food and tea for a late night meal with the 3 mysterious companions. Where were they headed and what were they doing here in his small town. He hurried back to find the three men sitting in front of a cheery blaze in his rectory fireplace. They all feasted on cheese, bread, meat, and a bottle of wine. It wasn’t much but it was the best the priest could come up with on such short notice .
“ Sir Thomas, how come you three to our simple village? Do you pan to stay awhile or are you just passing through?” Father Marcus asked after several minutes of forethought in silence.
“ Well father, we , we being Lupine and Martin and I, might be here for a few days, or we might leave as soon as day breaks the day after tomorrow, it all depends on whether or not the man we seek has been by here recently. We may have passed him by and he could be on his way to this town, we were trying to overtake him so that we could catch him at unawares from the front. We shall see.” The priest took a few moments to register this and said.
“You three are the first visitors we’ve had come by here in several weeks at least, so the man you seek probably hasn’t passed through yet. Why do you pursue him so valiantly?”
“He has wronged us and many others at the same time. He is an evil sorcerer who let loose an evil plague which followed him and his path. Killing several of our closest friends. Including my beloved wife...” Sir Thomas closed his eyes and several tears escaped them. Sir Lupine continued for him.
“This plague overtook Sir Caldrive of the Swollen Heart, Sir Niles of the Piercing Eyes, and several other worthy and great knights, as well as countless others. Women, children, strong armed men, all of them have died. It is only by luck that we have managed to escape a similar fate. This plague is terrible. It makes the afflicted bleed through the eyes, and vomit ochre bile till they are so weakened that they pass into the next world. It has been dubbed The Crimson Maelstrom, for the amount of blood it drives from the victims’ bodies.” Sir Thomas was weeping quietly, mourning his lost love, Sir Martin looked into the fire, deep rage burning in his heart. Sir Lupine continued
“This evil sorcerer is known as Magnalimon. He is skilled in both witchcraft and combat. We have faced him twice now and he has beaten us back. Thus we pursue him.”
Father Marcus was once again astounded, now an all too familiar feeling. If this evil man had been able to hold off the fury of these three powerful knights then he must have been empowered by Lucifer himself. And what’s worse, this evil man was headed to his peaceful village.
“So this evil sorcerer is heading to my village, what shall happen if he passes by unhindered?”
“He shall do the same to this village as he did to every other one he passed through. Take what he needs, and leave the Crimson Maelstrom in his wake. So far no one has survived this disease for more than 3 days. If he’s not stopped your village will be a dead place to live within the week.” Sir Lupine said quietly. Sir Martin now finally spoke, his voice was rough and thick with emotions.
“Let us be to bed Father Marcus. We can speak more of this in the morning, even in the house of God evil is more bold at night if you call it forth.” With that Father Marcus bid them all goodnight, and went back to his soft warm bed, though it felt much less soft and warm than it had before …}
The whole idea was we had to make up our own knight and he had to have a color and somethin unique about him, so I made 3 (shrugs) Hope you enjoyed!
Thanks
S/M