Well, I want to write a story. But I have a writing block. This is bad. So I will write a story where the universe it resides is not mine, but what is in it, is. *thinks* Okay, The Elder Scrolls should be good. Big universe, open ended possibilities. *begins writing*
Five Minutes of Valor
The crowd roared in the Arena of the Imperial City, just as it had many times before. Alone, standing on one end, was the Yellow Teams best fighter, one of Hero Rank. He was armed with nothing more than a Dwarven Longsword, a light iron shield, and the standard Light Raiment. On the other end, a relatively inexperienced combatant of Myrmidon rank. He was armed with an Elven Claymore and a Heavy Raiment. The two stood on their respective ends, praying that they would be the survivor, the victor, and their opponent would be the loser. The Hero was not at all afraid, but he had seen his comrades fall to less experienced combatants, and was wary. The Myrmidon, on the other hand, was opposite of that. He was shaking near uncontrollably, and his blade was noticeably quivering. Then abruptly, the announcer broke the silence of impending death. "Ladies and gentlemen! Feast your eyes upon this unlikely match! On one end, the Yellow Team's most notable Hero!" At the last word, the crowd roared. The majority of them had betted on him, as he was going to be the victor. Or so they thought. "On the other end, the Blue Team's Myrmidon!" At this, the crowd booed, as if in displeasure that he thought he could beat the crowds favorite combatant. "This is an advancement match for the Myrmidon, and your Hero's last fight! The stakes are high, so combatants, to arms!" The crowd roared with excitement as the gates dropped at seemingly lightning speed, and before the Blue Team's Myrmidon could even think, the Yellow Team's Hero was charging at him like a rampaging Daedroth. By the time the Myrmidon could get his wits about him, the Hero was right on top of him. The Myrmidon only had time to parry the blow that was thrown at him before he could attack. The clash and clang on metal began to screech through the air. The Myrmidon was only defending the first thirty seconds, but began fighting back. Soon the Hero was on the defensive, and the crowd looked on perilously as he began taking blow after blow on his shield. As his shield began disintegrating, he started thrashing his sword around trying to get the Myrmidon off of him. The Myrmidon responded by just jumping backwards, and he swung the claymore around at the Hero, just missing him. Three minutes in, the fight was still raging, neither combatant showing signs of fatigue. Just as the crowd thought that barrage of parrying, thrusting, and slicing would never end, the Myrmidon landed a clean slice on the left arm of his opponent, completely amputating it. The scream that erupted was bone jarring, and blood began splattering to the ground. The Hero continued fighting, despite the horrendous pain. However, he began getting weaker as the blood, now slowing, poured from his body. The Myrmidon did one final chop, and as the Hero attempted to block it, his own blade cut his neck, while the claymore smashed into his left shoulder, cutting into his heart. The Hero dropped to the ground, stone dead, and now bleeding out. The crowd roared with anger, excitement, and horror. The Myrmidon dropped to the ground and passed out from exhaustion, but he had won.
If you have any questions as to what some of the mentioned items look like, click here.
Good Story its rare that you see people good at battle scenes and the whole thing was practically a battle scene. The Grammar was perfect and really i cant criticize it at all. Good story im looking forward to more.
New story. Not really a story, more or less a biography of my character in Oblivion.
The Biography of Orion Stellus (b. 3E401, d. 4E75), Volume 1: Early Life
Orion Stellus, perhaps one of the most ledgendary warriors Tamriel will ever see, had his roots in low class society in Bravil, the son of a skooma trafficker. While this may sound like a very hypocritical beginning to the most shocking life Tamriel has seen since the days of Tiber Septim, it is the beginning that would shape the rest of his. This is the biography of his life, and will account itself in 6 volumes.
- Saloman Atrium, 4E122
Orion Stellus, born 14th of Frostfall, 3E401, was the son of a skooma trafficker in the slums of Bravil, and had very humble and violent beginnings. The first real conflict occured when he was just 6 months old. His father, in a drunken rage, murdered his mother right in front of him, and proceeded to dismember her to eliminate the evidence and dump the body in the river that ran through town. This was the very first bloody mess that he ever saw, and would certainly not be the last. Over the course of the next two weeks, the Bravil Guard investigated his father, bringing heat down upon his fathers superiors in the slums. Within three days, his father was dead and Stellus kidnapped by the crime lords. The Bravil Guard, however, had already begun its in depth investigation, and two months later, organized a raid which would inevitably shape the rest of Stellus' life. On the day of the raid, he had been shoved in a barrel, inevitaly traumatizing him, and left there for almost seven hours. As the Bravil Guard attacked, a stray axe smashed through the barrel slicing his face open, but freeing him. Just barely 8 months old, he crawled out of the melee, only to be picked up by one of the guards on his way out and dropped in the river. This was the end of his life in Bravil, and he drifted out to sea where he eventually washed up on the Imperial City Waterfront, barely alive. Although he was not even a year old, he later recalled everything exactly how the Bravil Guard had recorded it in the records, but from his point of view. From the Waterfront he was nurtured back to health over the course of several months, and lived with his recuers for the next 12 years. During this time there was little turmoil beyond the drunken stuper and occasional assault. While this was probably the most peaceful time in his life, he soon became bored of that and eventually started pickpocketing and petty thefts, and subsequently got arrested numerous times, and spent much of his time in jail on crimes ranging from petty theft and pickpocketing to grand larceny. The life of crime he was leading, even at such a young age, was not uncommon in the Waterfront, and he eventually began running with several small gangs, where he learned that he was quite good at breaking and entering. This, however, would be his demise, and in 3E420, while breaking into a house in the Elven Gardens District, he was confronted by a guard who questioned what he was doing. In a fit of shock and rage, he pulled out a knife and stabbed the guard in the throat. Just before the guard collapsed and died, he called for backup where Stellus and his accomplice were arrested on charges of capital murder.
is this the first part of a story, becasue i wanna hear more. its short, but got me hooked. i like it, along with that poem you and the other guy wrote. kept me enterianed, i chuckled lol. good job!
The blood of silence fills the room, Silent use of violence consume. Usefulness of fear deprived, This life is one we won't survive. Open chambers filled with gas, This breath we breath, may be our last.
Open darkness, time consumes, On our minds, nightmare looms. Over the hill and unto the chair, Before you die, say a prayer. The fiery lightning, courses now, The crimes committed, you disavow.
Needles sharp and ready to go, This is the end, you surely know. Into your arm, potassium flows, Your heart rate soon begins to slow. The lancing pain of fear in sight, This will be the final night.
Slower you drop the gallows sing, To the rope, you neck must cling. The whiplash of horror, now is here, Your mind is now rigid in fear. The final second you fade away, You know this is the final day.
Coming closer the bullets fly, Soon it will be time to die. Shredding through your bodies' flesh, Soon your bones break in stress. What you see is what is seems, Then you realize it's just a dream.
