I can feel the desert wind, a constant breeze that instead of giving relief, only serves to amplify the heat, even in the twilight. Alone and clanless I have learned the way of desert lion, killing what I can and scavenging what I can’t. There is no mercy in this place I call my home, the Serei desert is a cruel mistress, and only the strongest, and smartest survive. As the sun fades over the horizon, the wind takes on a bitter chill, I make my way to the small outcropping of rocks that I have selected as my campsite. The hot day has taken its toll and I quickly set noise traps up around the perimeter before falling prey to sleep.
It isn’t long before my trained senses awaken me to intruders in my midst. I silently praise myself for the well placed traps that were barely loud enough to lift me from unconsciousness. The raiders are slowly creeping in from all sides, and there are five of them, each one detectable by minute sounds. A foot slipping in the sand, one scratching at bite from a desert fly, rapid breathing elevated by the excitement of the impending kill. They don’t know that I am aware of their presence yet, or they would have already thrown caution aside. I have honed my body into weapon, I am hardened steel, I will not bend or break, I am in complete control. When they strike they will not have the element of surprise, for that will be mine.
The first of the bandits creeps closer, I am in control. His light footsteps carry him over me, I am in control. I can hear the creak in his leather armor as he raises his arm for the killing stroke, I release control. In a single movement I throw my off my furs, and bring my jagged broadsword up to sever the man’s arm at the elbow, I can see his eyes widen in surprise as he tastes the blood spray from the severed limb. Completing my movement I crouch down and snatch the man’s curved dagger from his still twitching fingers, and spin up, cleanly slitting his throat.
I can feel the bloodlust rising in my chest, taking control. The others are running at me now, I hear a fierce guttural roar, and realize it came from my own throat, and I’m running at them as well. As I reach my closest assailant I jump, kicking him in the chest and throwing him onto his back. My sword comes down with my full weight pinning him to the ground, and releasing him from his body. The third is almost on me now, thinking to slay me from behind.
I Jump backwards, leaving my sword, and thrusting with the dagger. Catching the man in the belly, I deftly drop to a knee to reverse my grip on the dagger, and thrust up with all my strength, leaving him in a pool of his own blood. I see the fourth man just in time to dodge the arrow aimed at my heart, but not fast enough to escape it entirely. The bolt tears into my shoulder just below the joint. I feel no pain. I feel nothing but rage. I run at the archer and as he fumbles for the scimitar at his belt too slowly. Pulling the barb from my shoulder, I fly through the air, lodging the arrow securely into his eye socket, his scream dies from his lips before he hits the ground.
Scooping up the scimitar I slowly walk toward the final raider. The man is young, barely more than a boy. I can see the fear in his eyes as he can see the steel in mine. He drops his sword, his hands come up in a plea for mercy. “P-Please don’t kill me, I’m sorry! You'll never see me again, j-just let me go!” I stride forward relentlessly, his words fall on deaf ears. I am the desert, I give no quarter to the weak, and I have no mercy. His head falls to the ground and I can hear his blood dripping from the end of the scimitar. I release what’s left of my rage in a primal howl.
I am victorious. I will live another day going the way of the desert. I should go back to sleep, peace is a precious commodity in the desert. The blood pumping in my veins will not allow me rest. I gather my meager camp into my pack and set out to find an oasis, The cruel desert wind blowing at my back. The emptiness of my solitude echos in my padded footsteps and rings in my ears.
Just a little bit of writing that came to me on a whim... Let me know what you guys think, if there is any interest I may end up writing more of the story in episodic form.
Well, first off, I personally enjoyed your story. It sounds very much like Kresh and is a believable back story for him. I also enjoyed the vivid imagery and the action, which, granted, was most of the piece was well done. If I could come up with one critique, it would be the last paragraph. He goes from "stone-cold, desert hunting killer" to "softy want's a family" in like 1 line and it's extremly jarring. maybe consider including something like "Even in the throws of victory, the dull ache of loneliness still lingered in him. He had been victorious, but what had he won? he was still alone." Just an Idea. But, hey, liked the piece, and keep writing. Were all writers, right?
Oy thanks! I actually really agree with you... At the time of writing it I felt like it was a little wrong too. I actually updated it to be easier on the brainspace at least I think so lol
Gonna comb through this bit by bit while giving me little opinion on it.
I have learned the way of dessert lion
I didn't know that lions could be so tasty; is it chocolate lion or vanilla? Sorry couldn't resist the tease, but such spelling mistakes are quite glaring.
the Serei is a cruel mistress
Hm, I wonder who the Serei is? I'm going to assume that such information will probably be revealed in chapter 2 or something.
So far I get the impression that Kresh is a cynical tough guy who beleives in social darwinism. Seems fitting.
The hot day has taken its toll and I quickly fall prey to sleep before setting traps around the perimeter.
He's considered one of the strongest and toughest of warrior on all of Jund, yet he can't stay awake past naptime? Lame.
In a single movement I throw my off my furs, and bring my jagged broadsword up to sever the man’s arm at the elbow . . .
Completing my movement I crouch down and snatch the man’s curved dagger from his still twitching fingers, and spin up, cleanly slitting his throat.
Why doesn't Kresh just use his sword to finish the final blow? Or does he simply like to show off when it comes to gratuitous killing? If it's the latter, then it tells me something more about his character; he's reckless and loves excessive violence.
*fight scene*
Preety decent for a fight scene I suppose. Also, Kresh killing the last kid also serves to portray him as a ruthless man without any shred of mercy.
The prose seemed fairly decent, but the first person present tense is . . . I dunno iffy. Actually, first person is fine, but past tense is often always better when one is telling a story. Yeah it probably should be written in past tense.
In addition, I feel that you could expand upon it some more; it feels too short, and I think that certain aspects could be lengthened. Maybe show us more of what Kresh has to do to survive (beyond pwning raids of other warriors) and the exact feelings he has; also a little more exposition into his condition. Why isn't he part of a clan? Why is he where he is? At least something to hint at that. Granted in that respect, you could always shift to third person, thereby having an easier time revealing what bits of information you want to show to the audience. In first person pov, that doesn't seem like it would be possible because we'd always be aware of Kresh's thoughts so there wouldn't be anything that we wouldn't also know.
I didn't know that lions could be so tasty; is it chocolate lion or vanilla? Sorry couldn't resist the tease, but such spelling mistakes are quite glaring.
Why doesn't Kresh just use his sword to finish the final blow? Or does he simply like to show off when it comes to gratuitous killing? If it's the latter, then it tells me something more about his character; he's reckless and loves excessive violence.
The prose seemed fairly decent, but the first person present tense is . . . I dunno iffy. Actually, first person is fine, but past tense is often always better when one is telling a story. Yeah it probably should be written in past tense.
You're probably right, but to be honest I don't feel like rewriting it to match right now. I might in a bit.
In addition, I feel that you could expand upon it some more; it feels too short, and I think that certain aspects could be lengthened. Maybe show us more of what Kresh has to do to survive (beyond pwning raids of other warriors) and the exact feelings he has; also a little more exposition into his condition. Why isn't he part of a clan? Why is he where he is? At least something to hint at that. Granted in that respect, you could always shift to third person, thereby having an easier time revealing what bits of information you want to show to the audience. In first person pov, that doesn't seem like it would be possible because we'd always be aware of Kresh's thoughts so there wouldn't be anything that we wouldn't also know.
This was only written in first person as an exercise for me to be honest, I don't write in the first person often and I wanted to try my hand at it. As far as expanding it, this was intentionally short, sort of a teaser. The actual story might even start before this I'm not sure. Either way Those questions would eventually get answered, a little at a time.
I came back to read over this piece because I was feeling nostalgic and I decided the ending needed to completely change...So I did! I think I might lengthen this out or write the second piece in the near future.
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WPL Epic WorldIt isn’t long before my trained senses awaken me to intruders in my midst. I silently praise myself for the well placed traps that were barely loud enough to lift me from unconsciousness. The raiders are slowly creeping in from all sides, and there are five of them, each one detectable by minute sounds. A foot slipping in the sand, one scratching at bite from a desert fly, rapid breathing elevated by the excitement of the impending kill. They don’t know that I am aware of their presence yet, or they would have already thrown caution aside. I have honed my body into weapon, I am hardened steel, I will not bend or break, I am in complete control. When they strike they will not have the element of surprise, for that will be mine.
The first of the bandits creeps closer, I am in control. His light footsteps carry him over me, I am in control. I can hear the creak in his leather armor as he raises his arm for the killing stroke, I release control. In a single movement I throw my off my furs, and bring my jagged broadsword up to sever the man’s arm at the elbow, I can see his eyes widen in surprise as he tastes the blood spray from the severed limb. Completing my movement I crouch down and snatch the man’s curved dagger from his still twitching fingers, and spin up, cleanly slitting his throat.
I can feel the bloodlust rising in my chest, taking control. The others are running at me now, I hear a fierce guttural roar, and realize it came from my own throat, and I’m running at them as well. As I reach my closest assailant I jump, kicking him in the chest and throwing him onto his back. My sword comes down with my full weight pinning him to the ground, and releasing him from his body. The third is almost on me now, thinking to slay me from behind.
I Jump backwards, leaving my sword, and thrusting with the dagger. Catching the man in the belly, I deftly drop to a knee to reverse my grip on the dagger, and thrust up with all my strength, leaving him in a pool of his own blood. I see the fourth man just in time to dodge the arrow aimed at my heart, but not fast enough to escape it entirely. The bolt tears into my shoulder just below the joint. I feel no pain. I feel nothing but rage. I run at the archer and as he fumbles for the scimitar at his belt too slowly. Pulling the barb from my shoulder, I fly through the air, lodging the arrow securely into his eye socket, his scream dies from his lips before he hits the ground.
Scooping up the scimitar I slowly walk toward the final raider. The man is young, barely more than a boy. I can see the fear in his eyes as he can see the steel in mine. He drops his sword, his hands come up in a plea for mercy. “P-Please don’t kill me, I’m sorry! You'll never see me again, j-just let me go!” I stride forward relentlessly, his words fall on deaf ears. I am the desert, I give no quarter to the weak, and I have no mercy. His head falls to the ground and I can hear his blood dripping from the end of the scimitar. I release what’s left of my rage in a primal howl.
I am victorious. I will live another day going the way of the desert. I should go back to sleep, peace is a precious commodity in the desert. The blood pumping in my veins will not allow me rest. I gather my meager camp into my pack and set out to find an oasis, The cruel desert wind blowing at my back. The emptiness of my solitude echos in my padded footsteps and rings in my ears.
Go ahead and run, you'll only die tired.
Those who might never meet are pooled together
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WPL Epic WorldGo ahead and run, you'll only die tired.
Those who might never meet are pooled together
If you want to critique mine, check it out http://forums.mtgsalvation.com/showthread.php?t=483641
-Oscar Wilde
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WPL Epic WorldGo ahead and run, you'll only die tired.
Those who might never meet are pooled together
I didn't know that lions could be so tasty; is it chocolate lion or vanilla?
Hm, I wonder who the Serei is? I'm going to assume that such information will probably be revealed in chapter 2 or something.
So far I get the impression that Kresh is a cynical tough guy who beleives in social darwinism. Seems fitting.
He's considered one of the strongest and toughest of warrior on all of Jund, yet he can't stay awake past naptime? Lame.
Why doesn't Kresh just use his sword to finish the final blow? Or does he simply like to show off when it comes to gratuitous killing? If it's the latter, then it tells me something more about his character; he's reckless and loves excessive violence.
Preety decent for a fight scene I suppose. Also, Kresh killing the last kid also serves to portray him as a ruthless man without any shred of mercy.
The prose seemed fairly decent, but the first person present tense is . . . I dunno iffy. Actually, first person is fine, but past tense is often always better when one is telling a story. Yeah it probably should be written in past tense.
In addition, I feel that you could expand upon it some more; it feels too short, and I think that certain aspects could be lengthened. Maybe show us more of what Kresh has to do to survive (beyond pwning raids of other warriors) and the exact feelings he has; also a little more exposition into his condition. Why isn't he part of a clan? Why is he where he is? At least something to hint at that. Granted in that respect, you could always shift to third person, thereby having an easier time revealing what bits of information you want to show to the audience. In first person pov, that doesn't seem like it would be possible because we'd always be aware of Kresh's thoughts so there wouldn't be anything that we wouldn't also know.
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WPL Epic WorldHaha fixed
It's actually the name of the desert, which I forgot to point out. fixed.
Agreed, story updated to mach.
Because killing him this way is so much more fun?
You're probably right, but to be honest I don't feel like rewriting it to match right now. I might in a bit.
This was only written in first person as an exercise for me to be honest, I don't write in the first person often and I wanted to try my hand at it. As far as expanding it, this was intentionally short, sort of a teaser. The actual story might even start before this I'm not sure. Either way Those questions would eventually get answered, a little at a time.
Go ahead and run, you'll only die tired.
Those who might never meet are pooled together
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WPL Epic WorldGo ahead and run, you'll only die tired.
Those who might never meet are pooled together