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    The Legacy of The Pelthor Bunch: Part one

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    Giovanni Carter
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    Posts : 48
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    Join date : 2013-03-10
    Age : 22
    Location : The Confines of Wickerola

    The Legacy of The Pelthor Bunch: Part one

    Post by Giovanni Carter on Sun Apr 06, 2014 5:32 am

    "I always thought we would die on a nice beach, killing pirate skeletons. Not in a volcano, killing pirate skeletons." Marissa spoke back to Malkior with a giggle as she swung her shortsword to knock away a certainly deathly blow from connecting to her person. These marauding little bastards were getting a bit annoying to the two adventurers and they were about to just say screw it all.

    "Remember: This is a test to see our worth. Shall we give it to them?" Malkior spoke with a jovial smirk on his lips. He just barely twirled to the right to parry a swing from one of the skeletons in front of him before gripping his staff with two hands and, aiming for the head, swung away. The attack had connected and thus launched the skull toward another of its comrades before shattering it to its original multiple pieces. One down, six more to go.

    The headless body then turned before hitting Malkior in the stomach with a fist, knocking the bard back as he attempted to catch his breath. The bubbling magma was beginning to rise just to touch the cliff only twenty feet to Malkior's left, letting him know just how long they have to find the treasure. The louting duo were getting annoyed majorly now, and with thus, they began to lean forward a bit before barreling through approximately three of the ones left, including no skull that Malkior decapitated.

    Piles of bones and dead bodies were all that laid in the path of Malkior and Marissa. Comrades, enemies, neutral parties and more. The story of people that the bard Malkior could have immortalized for the ears of others with their proof. All they could be are memories now. Tears streaked the cheeks of the bard. Of a party of seven, all that remained now was but the two of them. The story of this party would live on, if it meant with Malkior's last breath.


    Chapter One: The Beginning - The Dwarf

    The sun glistened down on watered plants within a small garden. The small aqua droplets on the small vines and plants were almost like a disco ball, showing the glittering of plants from just the right angle to almost seem perfect. A wide assortment of fruits and vegetables were lining from the beginning of the line, almost as far as the eye could see. A wondrous and bountiful harvest would come of this year indeed.

    The small shack that was erected just fifteen yards in front of the garden was made of stone, sure to have taken weeks to months to create. A craftsman's touch was evident on the smoothness of the outside as well as the symmetry of the windows and door. Directly in the middle of the eastern wall was the doorway, manufactured in a beautiful piece of oak about four feet wide and seven feet high, opening outward onto a cobbled pathway.

    Truly this was a hard worked on house for someone that surely slaved tirelessly for hours to make it. A slow opening of the doorway revealed a male of about three feet in stature. The scraggly beard upon his chin reached to his lower chest area. A dwarf, of course, he was. Lugging a heavy battle axe over his shoulder, the male began down the pathway that lead in a curve to the right toward the garden. Admiring his work from the front, the dwarf began to make his way a bit deeper into the garden but stopped at the sound of footsteps from behind him. Heavy footsteps.

    Coming through a bunch of trees from behind him, the north, came an orc rushing at the dwarf. The monster further making it smaller, the dwarf was undeterred. In fact, the dwarf had turned with his battle ax and began to charge right toward the monstrosity. As he got closer, he realized that looking at the orc, it was injured already. Maybe it wasn't running at him but more running away? Either way, it would hurt his food, and he wouldn't have that. Jumping up with his battle ax high above his head, the drawf came down with one good swing at the orc's chest, cleaving downward to open the entire front of the orc. The smell of rancid orc was now amplified by the scent of blood and the contents of his entire stomach spilling out onto the dwarf's front lawn.

    With the orc surely slain, the dwarf found himself raising his ax high into the air and letting out a battle cry in victory. But it was to be short lived as he shifted his gaze to the treeline to find that the orc had not come alone: He brought a couple of friends. About three to be exact. Crouching to a defensive position, the eyes o the drawf showed him that these three were also wounded. And yet, they were almost going in a predatorial lope forward at him. Stalking, they were trying to surround him.

    Then the screech of a thousand harpies were heard as four projectiles found their way toward the chests of the orcs. Surprise registered on the faces of the monsters as they howled a bit and looked down to the weapons enbedded into their chest cavities.

    "Glad we aren't late for the party. " A male spoke as he walked from the treeline. Long platinum locks were cascading around a face that was almost too beautiful for even an elf to have. The complexion unmarred and stunning. The approximate height of 6'4 was almost making the dwarf envious. A bardic outfit in colors of orange and red further accentuated the beauty of the male. And instantly as those piercing emerald eyes o the bard looked on the orcs, they cringed and began to divert their tactics on the taller male with a rush.

    All in vain for the monsters, the bard lifted a hand, grasping a hint of a spider web. Tossing the web before him, it began to expand into a large mass of strings, barricading the orcs and catching them unaware as they had no time to stop their assault. Once entrapped, the bard simply wiped his hands together before making his way around the mass of webs to turn toward the dwarf.

    But emerald eyes then turned to the orc lying on the ground in a heap of death. The grin of the bard's face showed he was impressed. "You killed the leader. I'm surprised these lowlifes didn't cower and run away after that." Obviously the dwarf was still keeping an eye on the orcs caught within the magical trap, but every so often turning toward the bard.

    "What be your name, dwarf?" The bard spoke with an angelic and gentle tint in his tone. The response resounded with pride from the dwarf. One of pure intimidation to all those around him.

    "I am Relfegor! The starkiller! One that was in peace before these things showed up." Obviously the bard had seen the point as he nodded and turned his attention back to the trio in the web.

    " Well, I will dispose of them in a very quick and quiet fashion, if you wish." came the bard's words in that familiar jovial and smooth tone. Almost mesmerizing to the ears, like the caress of a lover. The dwarf would have allowed such had he not looked back at the dead orc and seen that it was coming back up. This registered even shock to the bard as he threw two more daggers right to the forehead of the reanimated corpse. However, this time the orc seemed to shrug it off without a flinch.

    "Mustaga, sentinao seriposa." The gutteral, almost haunting contrasting voice of the orc made out as it rushed at the bard to no avail. It had tripped as the bard left his leg out in a kick to knock the orc off balance. This made it run into the web with its comrades, whom even tried to get away from their former leader. It was when the zombified orc began to bite at one of its own in the shoulder that Relfegor seemed to spill the contents of his stomach out onto the lawn. The bard, however, seemed fine as he walked up to the orc tanglement of bodies and attempted to slit its throat.

    "I wouldn't suggest that, kid..." Relfegor managed to get out between heaves as he watched a combination of the ground and the bard sneaking. Wait, a bard sneaking? He appeared almost silent as it approached the orc. The only sound afterward was the sound of metal cutting open flesh as the orc's throat held a large gash through it. The only other sound was gurgling as it then laid limp with its newly dead companion in the web. The other two had apparently escaped and fled, shocked that one of their own had struck and killed them.

    "Huh. Usually this happens in a dungeon that I explore. Not out in the open with sunlight and gardens. And CERTAINLY not with orcs. What could be causing this? Of course it has to be close by, though...." The thought barely registered in the bard's mind before he was sent flying.

    After a few seconds for him to clear his head, Relfegor looked up to see the figure of a goddess of a woman stepping from the treeline to make her appearance before the duo. Wearing a ravenous tattered cowl, the female seemed to ooze a dark aura that almost could kill by itself. An evil entity, surely. And with this, the bard got up as the dwarf called back to him,"You okay back there?"

    A sound of shuffling was heard as the bard dusted himself off and started forward to meet the dwarf's side. "Yep. Just fine, thank you. But it seems we have irked a bad girl. Wanna put the woman down, or just put her down?"

    "I think we haven't a choice bu- Wait. Which one is which? And what does the other one mean that isn't to kill her?" The dwarf spoke with a hint of confusion as he turned his head to look at the bard with a furrowed brow. That was a big mistake as the dwarf was sent flying a second later by what appeared to be an invisible force. All that the bard could do was watch before he too was sent backward, but just a bit further. The sound of cracking ribs ringed through the ears of the bard as he looked to his side. Pain lacerated his form as he slowly got up, holding his side.

    "Malkior Drago... You have gotten in my way for far too long... I shall end you this time. In the sun, so the world can see your demise!" The female's voice was smooth, seductive almost as she slowly stepped toward the downed duo. With her every touch, the ground began to wither away and grow more and more desolate. Destruction followed her path almost like the plague itself. The pair of men looked up at her full stature of about 6 feet as she then stood to the point of blocking the sun from their vision.

    Reaching a hand into her cowl, she pulled forth a darkened steel dagger and raised it high above her, poised to strike. And then the clash of metal was heard as the dagger was knocked from her hand. The surprise that crossed the pale complexion of the female was evident of her not expecting such a thing. But as her glowing red eyes looked behind her to see another female in an archer outfit, the growl that emitted from her was purely hostile and threatening. Even Relfegor was a bit intimidated by this evil woman.

    A recovering Malkior, still holding his side, took a deep breath before letting out a battle cry that at the precise moment, began to make the ground rumble and groan as she got into a defensive stance. The malevolent female turned around a bit before training her gaze back to Malkior. The hostility intensified as she jumped back into the treeline and out of sight.

    Darkness seemed to cloud the vision of the dwarf before claiming in a gentle embrace, making him black out.



    The darkness that loomed around Relfegor as he awoke began to shift to a pure white as he found himself in a pure white room. The cleanliness of this room was borderline sterility as he stood up to analyze a bit better. Then his gaze hit a female leaning against the wall just 10 feet in front of her. With this being a big room, about 30 yards in square diameter by his assumption, he was a bit too close to this girl if she was anything like the last girl.

    Apparently even his thoughts weren't safe right now as she seemed to answer in a chiming saprano voice, "Relax, Relfegor. You are safe. I shall not bite, unless you are going to want that. Then, you will suffer the consequences at a later date. Maybe on a full moon, or during a monsoon. But not then and there." Her comment held his attention as he took a step back with his fists balled up, ready to take her if she were to charge at him.

    With looks to die for, and dressed in a pure emerald dress, the new lady was as beautiful as the stranger that attacked him and thr bard just minutes ago. He had little intentions of letting his guard down at all toward her until he saw a reason to.

    He was seen tensing up as she pushed off of the wall and making a circle around him. His eyes were trained on her form as much as he could manage, and when she made her way around him, he began to turn just a bit to meet her as she made the rest of the curve.

    "I see you have met my minion, Malkior. The bard, you see, is quite a wonderful man.... I have him on an assignment, and will now get to the point of this one-on-one meeting: I wish you to join him in his quest. You have the heart of a lion, the fierceness of a king, and the valor and spirit of a general. Those are perfect for Malkior to be around.... And so, I give you this as a token of what could be to come." And once she was facing him, a small emerald appeared in her hand as she outstretched it toward him. The immaculate shape of the jewel showed that it could be priceless.

    "I refuse to join your little party unless I understand what I am getting into. You will start explaining or I will say no," an angered Relfegor spoke as he stepped back from her with a hardened face of skepticism. He was far from amused by her antics and intent to join her group. She was asking a lot from him; for him to leave his home and journey with this bard to far, distant lands. And he hated traveling, "What else have you to offer? Who are you? Where are we going? I want to know before I decide."

    A smile crept along the pale pink lips of the emerald clad woman as she pulled her hand away rom him. The emerald fell from her hand but dissolved with the wind itself before even touching the floor. "Quite wise as well, young one. Okay, I shall answer your questions. I am Destoria. But others call me Destortion. I seek to save that which is most precious to me: My beloved. And so, I send Malkior to retrieve something that can help me. I offer you riches and fame, that which no ordinary bardic tale, or jovial jaunty tune can muster for lifetimes. An adventure to save the humani and the other races from utter destruction. But Malkior cannot do this alone, and I can only offer my services when most needed. He needs allies, and I intend to find him the best in this world. You have been chosen, Relfegor the Star Killer, to do the work your name implies. You shall destroy the skies, as I happen to know your true identity and talents..."

    The stoic look on Relfegor's face showed the mood shift to one much more serious. She was treading on very thin ice to get him to join her crew of treasure hunters. "You want my answer? Then I say for now.... Yes."

    This elicited a smile from Destoria as she held her hand out to him again, this time the emerald appeared again before she simply tossed it to him. For a dwarf, he had very quick reflexes and caught it effortlessly as the world grew dark again, taking him under again.....


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