Snarky's terrible fiction

[Snarky00]

I wrote this a few years ago. I would say that it hasn't aged well but really it was just as terrible when I first wrote it. I just found it again and edited it a little to help readability.

They didn't hear her coming at first. A moot point, no one hears her coming. A thick mist rolled in from the hills while they sat around their fire celebrating. a chest filled with all the treasure from their pillaging was in a tent nearby under constant watch even during the celebration. A fine haul by any thugs standards. The mist rolled into camp as if being chased by wolves.

A man with a shaved head and a sharp glint in his eye peered at the fog from from a pilfered oaken throne. He wore strange armor it was shined to a high mirror polish but its color was an unmistakable grey. It covered him from the neck down with a series of plates and chains to fill in the gaps. If you peered into it you could almost imagine seeing yourself peering out from a thick fog. The man wore many weapons about his person, two long swords crossed on his back with intricate hilts, mismatched but definately the work of a true master smith. A claymore strapped to his hip whose hilt was carved into the shape of a dragon with a large ruby stuck in its mouth. The man immediately called his men to arms. He had heard tales of the muse.

They were on their feet with weapons drawn immediately. His men were well trained, he didn't accept weakness from any of them. They quickly formed a circle around their master. All manner of men stood in this circle from mighty barbarian warriors to elven wizards. They were all wearing mismatched equipment but there was no mistaking its quality. Stolen antiquities from their victims. This wasn't an ordinary band of thieves these men hunted dragons and other legendary beasts for their treasure and the fame. It wouldn't matter they had gone too far with their latest exploit, breaching the planes of power and angering the gods. Rallos had sent his finest assassin.

Then they heard it, it started as a low hum barely audible. Her song seemed to come from all directions a mournful dirge. They couldn't make out any words, it was sung in a language thought to have been dead for a milenia. The men held their weapons close, it would start soon.

*thunk*

Everyone looked around but the circle was still intact. Then their leader fell. His claymore hilt stuck out from the top of his head. His longswords were missing. Then the mist cleared as quickly as it had appeared and in the middle of the circle was a woman. Long straight white hair flowed down to the small of her back. It would be impossible to guess her age. Her skin was flawless but her truely black eyes gave no reflection, looking into them would give you the impression you were staring into an abyss. She wore platemail made from a metal not known to men, it was the color of fresh blood and the surface seemed to draw in light and make it glow. She didn't wear it for protection, it had been years since any had come close to hitting her. It was only to keep up appearances, a formality that came with her title.

The Herald of Zek had come. She was holding their master's long swords, the men knew their power but she wasn't interested in them for that. She giggled and hurled them straight into the air. She was upon them before anyone could react. Lightning crackled through the air from one of the wizards striking an unfortunate ranger, she had moved too quickly. Her blade whistled a tune as she moved, the wizards head rolled into the fire as he slumped over. Her mace shaped like a skull with a surface of that looked like flowing lava made contact with the chestplate of one of the warriors and shattered it, he dropped his weapons and ripped his helmet off to get the ringing out of his ears. The singing shortsword whistled around and cut him in two.

She danced about to the tune of her blade almost too quickly to be seen. They fell one by one until only the thief king's two leutinants still stood. A halfling rogue wearing inky black leather armor holding large twin daggers whose blades danced with flames and a dwarven warrior wearing a suit of black armor with a helmet that had ivory horns sticking out of it he was holding an axe larger then he was with no signs of strain in his stance. She giggled again and put her weapons away. The pair shared a puzzled glance then approached her with weapons drawn. She moved again, too quickly. The pair looked around but couldn't find her. They heard a new sound and remembered too late...

They looked up simultaniously and two longswords came down striking them both dead.

[Kimra]

Nice imagery. You clearly had the picture solid in your mind when you where writing it.

Thanky for sharing. *


*yeah I know it's the crappiest response every, but just wanted you to know I read it and was entertained.

[Sahan]

I enjoyed that, actually. You're being too harsh on yourself Snarky, because it makes for good reading. It reminded me a lot of the sort of story arcs in the webcomic Goblins, except you pulled off the imagery quite well with words alone. In short, awesome.

[Snarky00]

I was reading a lot of Robert Jordan when I wrote this so I was feeling very descriptive. The action bits still feel awkward to me though.