Post by screwda on Nov 19, 2005 11:00:14 GMT -5
« Thread Started on Sept 24, 2005, 8:11am by Screwda »
Screwda wanders over the plains of Rohan, lonely. The sun raises. He enjoys the first time he sees the sun rising within a long time. But how long? Months? Years? Too long for such a terrible torturing. Plans of terrible vengeance opun the hellish Mordor-orcs spin through his simple mind. Simple for a human, complex for a troll.
The sun rises slowly. The plains of Rohan look calm and tranquil. No tracks of orcs following Screwda are perceptible at the horizon. He settles down to rest. The early morning makes him doze and slumber.
A rumbling sound wakes Srewda. He prolongs himself and looks around, searching for whatever woke him. Screwda notices dark clouds in the east. Then a lightning bolt strikes a lonely tree, making it ignite.
Memories of the torturing fill Screwda's mind. He jumps up and starts running to the west. The frontier clouds drizzle. Drizzle turns to rain. Rain turns to tempest.
Srewda still flees, soaked. Suddenly Screwda notices a small barren, hidden between some trees. He takes a last sprint to the barren, making the ground shake under his weight. He heads for the stables, which are big enough to shelter a troll. Lightning bolts cut the sky and the thunder rages, like a giant siege weapon.
« Reply #1 on Oct 2, 2005, 10:06am »
If screwda had only waited a few moments before he had gone in, he would have seen a dark shadow approaching at the horizon.
With a piercing shriek the fellbeast descended from the cloudy sky. A few men came running out of the little building on the plains. They looked up, and an expression of horror formed on their faces when they saw the Nazgul and his dreadfull mount approach. Akhorahil drew his sword, and he focused his toughts to the upcoming battle.
"Hah, not nearly a challenge they are, puny creatures. Not nearly worth the bloodstains they will make on the grass."
A feeling of cold delight ran through his soulless being.
"Yet, it will be good to hear their screams of fear when they flee. Their screams of pain when they die!"
Suddenly, Akhorahil noticed they were running away in panic, and he drove his mount to pursuit them. Suddenly, his world darkened and his thoughts were shatterd. A dark, overwhelming voice thundered through his mind
Stop diverting your attention. Those vermin are not important, so dont waste MY time hunting them. Turn your mount you fool, the one you seek is in the house
Not being able to resist, Akhorahil turned his mount and headed for the small house on the plains. A few minutes later the fellbeast hit the ground with a soft bump, next to the stables. Akhorahil dismounted and started walking around the stables. Rainwater was streaming down his cloack and hood, yet they never got soaked or even wet.
Akhorahil crossed the farmyard, heading for the forsaken residence.
"Forsaken, yes, but not empty. For I can feel you are in there, my dear victim, I can feel you."
Akhorahil walked around the house to back door.
"I know you don't expect me to be here. You think I'm still chasing your comrades. Hah, you humans and elves and your loyalty towards your friends. Worth nothing."
When Akhorahil passed a window, he suddenly felt fear. Not his fear, but the fear of the creature inside.
"So, you have noticed me? All the better."
Akhorahil slowly opened the back door. Inside it was cold and dark, but he didn't even notice. He walked to the livingroom. A flash of lightning lighted up the room when he entered. His hand unsheated his weapon of his own accord, then Akhorahil closed in on the shivering elven female.
« Reply #2 on Oct 2, 2005, 10:58am »
Tho two horses tastes delicious after months of orc meat and slaughter waist. Screwda removes a small piece of horse-meat from his left tusk. This place seemed quite safe to Screwda. It was dry and warm in here. Screwda peeps trough the small gap between the two stable-doors for signs of orcs.
The plain looked calm and peaceful except for the storm. Screwda turned around, reassured by the safety of the stable. Screwda begins to slumber when suddenly a black figure passes the window. A shiver of fear descends his spine. Orcs, they have returned. They've found me. They army should wait just outside here. What must I do? No torturing again.
Screwda jumps up, knowing that he gets to do something, Now. He examines his situation by sketching a mental cube surrounded by orcs. He attaches another mental cube to it, the farm, where no orcs can stand.
..............................
...... ______...........
......|........|............
......|House|............Just to get a simple idea of Screda's
ooo |........|............thoughts.
o __|_____|............
o|........|o...............---------->'o' = Orc
o|Stable|o ..............-------->'_' or '|' = Wall
o|_____|o...............-------->'...' = Empty space
ooooooo.................
...............................
The thoughts fade to make room for a way to escape. The wall. i got to break straight trough the wall to get inside the farm. From the farm can I get away from the orcs.
Screwda sprints to an empty horse cage and starts wrench at a part of the fencing. It starts moving with a sound of splintering wood after a few seconds. Fear feeds Screwda's muscles and he breaks up a wooden ram with a last single pull. He takes a sprint and a mass of complete force breaks trough the wall of the stable right into the entrance-hall.
« Reply #3 on Oct 10, 2005, 9:13am »
Akhorahil's dagger was nearly ripping the elf's chest, when the sound of breaking walls filled the room. It seemed to come from the entrance hall. The sound broke his concentration for a few seconds, as he looked up to see the source of the noise. The elven female on the ground immediately grasped this opportunity and attempted a desperate kick for Akhorahil's sword. And hit. With a cold clang the sword fell to the ground. The elf then got up and ran for the entrance hall, ignoring the sounds of destruction. Akhorahil retrieved his sword and followed her.
« Reply #4 on Oct 10, 2005, 10:41am »
Screwda lies stunned for a moment. The wall was tougher than Screwda expected. His consciousness returned as quick as it vanished. Orcs, It was the orcs. All around me. And they're here, maybe in here. Quick!
Screwda jumps up and runs in the direction of the front door. Suddenly an elven woman appears on his way. She seemed to flee from the living room. In a burs of sympathize Screwda realizes that this elf must be fleeing for the same danger as he.
And as quick as a wink, Screwda grabs the woman and runs trough the back door, leaving behind a big, collapsing, troll-sized hole.
« Reply #5 on Oct 21, 2005, 3:21pm »
When Akhorahil turned the corner, the elf was gone. Yet two new things had shown up: a troll-sized hole towards the stable, and another one where the back door once was.
"Hmmm, It seems the two of us are not the only ones here. I wonder what kind of monster made a hole that big."
Akhorahil walked outside trought the hole. To his surprise, he saw a troll carrying his victim.
"It would be reckless to attack this beast. And needless, for the beast will surely eat her."
The dark voice spoke again, crashing like a sledgehammer hitting the back of his head.
No, we cannot take the risk. Her death is to important for us. Slay her with you own hands, so I can see it is accomplished.
Only able to obey, Akhorahil moved towards the troll. He now spoke with his dreadfull, hissing voice.
"Give her to me, or be slain. The witch king demands her death, and so it shall happen."
« Reply #6 on Oct 22, 2005, 9:51am »
Scewda paralyzes as he hears the frightening voice behind him. The elven woman has fallen unconscious, likely because she could the the origin of the voice.
It's over for me. If I turn around will I face my death. A whole horde of orcs shall look and laugh at me and this scary-voiced
commander will kill me.
Then the Nazgul's words pierce Screwda's thoughts and he realizes that the women is worth his own life. Screwda turns around. A shiver creeps down his spine as he looks at the Nazgul.
"This be my Elf, you filthy orc leader. Screwda will only give her to you if you kill all the orcs who chase me."
« Reply #7 on Oct 25, 2005, 1:50pm »
Akhorahil speaks in a calm but demanding voice.
"No. It is not your place to state conditions. Give me the elven woman or you will die. The Witch King, Lord of all Nazgul, demands it."
He will die either way. Don't let him go.
« Reply #8 on Oct 26, 2005, 3:15am »
Screwda looks around. He sees and empty plain with only a Nazgul, a farm and a carbonized tree at the horizon.
"You kill Screwda? You got no horde, you are slow and Screwda be strong. What would you do?"
Then Screwda realizes a touch of his past. He sees himself caught by some weak orcs. He realizes he may not risk the danger. He breaks down the conversation, turns around and starts running.
"You won't get me nor the elf, filthy orc leader."
« Reply #9 on Oct 26, 2005, 5:34am »
Akhorahil whispered to himself
"You brought this to yourself, stupid beast. Hah, to call me an orc leader!"
Akhorahil ran back to the fellbeast, which was still waiting behind the stables. He jumped upon the creature's back. When grabbed the reins, the beast expelled a shriek and took wing. They made a circular move above the farm. A flash of lightning lighted up the plains, and the silhouette of a huge man-shaped being could be seen running away from the buildings. Akhorahil flew another circle, and then he started to pursuit the troll.
"You will not deny us our prize, troll-creature. Run fast, for it will make you live a few seconds longer."
The nazgul started to close in on his prey, and the beast streched put his claws, ready to strike.
« Reply #10 on Oct 26, 2005, 6:42am »
All his emotions vanished. His mind changed over to his natural instinct. Fear was the only thing that remained. Fear of dieing, fear of the past. Adrenaline was created in a continual stream. His muscles couldn't stop moving, he didn't even feel them.
The elf on his left shoulder was only ballast. but he didn't threw her away because there was only one thing more worst than his past, condemning someone to his past. That was why he carried her forth.
The plain where empty. No city, house nor farm covered the horizon. Some trees stood patiently, waiting for the end of the world. He knew that it wouldn't take long. They knew it too.
Screwda sensed the Nazgul extremely clear. He could hear the breathing of the beast and feel the movement in the air. The smell was impossible the describe. It smelled like death but combined with... pleasure. It was terrible.
Screwda's senses searched for anything, anything that could safe him from this approaching death, or worse. He thought out about everything. The air was his enemy. Screwda could do nothing with it while the Nazgul made speed due it's existence. The earth under his feet made him able to run but it had no other use at the moment. The trees, there had to be some use of the trees. Too bad that only the use as club was made up in his brain. A small pool on his left distracted Screwda for a moment. He could dive into it but the risk that it was too shallow haunted his thoughts as he passed it.
Time ran short as claws approached and the Fellbeast' s shriek pierced his ears. Fear... eternal fear... Screwda was destined to flee in fear. He had to be brave but death scared him. Everything was useless. He should die within a few seconds, the faster the better.
The massive force of speed and power took another breath and suddenly braked. Screwda turned around. Never should he feel the torturing again. This shall be his vengeance and his death. Screwda unleashed a terrifying roar as he rushed up to the Nazgul. He made a giant leap and the two massive forces collided and hit the ground with a thundering blow.
Screwda wanders over the plains of Rohan, lonely. The sun raises. He enjoys the first time he sees the sun rising within a long time. But how long? Months? Years? Too long for such a terrible torturing. Plans of terrible vengeance opun the hellish Mordor-orcs spin through his simple mind. Simple for a human, complex for a troll.
The sun rises slowly. The plains of Rohan look calm and tranquil. No tracks of orcs following Screwda are perceptible at the horizon. He settles down to rest. The early morning makes him doze and slumber.
A rumbling sound wakes Srewda. He prolongs himself and looks around, searching for whatever woke him. Screwda notices dark clouds in the east. Then a lightning bolt strikes a lonely tree, making it ignite.
Memories of the torturing fill Screwda's mind. He jumps up and starts running to the west. The frontier clouds drizzle. Drizzle turns to rain. Rain turns to tempest.
Srewda still flees, soaked. Suddenly Screwda notices a small barren, hidden between some trees. He takes a last sprint to the barren, making the ground shake under his weight. He heads for the stables, which are big enough to shelter a troll. Lightning bolts cut the sky and the thunder rages, like a giant siege weapon.
« Reply #1 on Oct 2, 2005, 10:06am »
If screwda had only waited a few moments before he had gone in, he would have seen a dark shadow approaching at the horizon.
With a piercing shriek the fellbeast descended from the cloudy sky. A few men came running out of the little building on the plains. They looked up, and an expression of horror formed on their faces when they saw the Nazgul and his dreadfull mount approach. Akhorahil drew his sword, and he focused his toughts to the upcoming battle.
"Hah, not nearly a challenge they are, puny creatures. Not nearly worth the bloodstains they will make on the grass."
A feeling of cold delight ran through his soulless being.
"Yet, it will be good to hear their screams of fear when they flee. Their screams of pain when they die!"
Suddenly, Akhorahil noticed they were running away in panic, and he drove his mount to pursuit them. Suddenly, his world darkened and his thoughts were shatterd. A dark, overwhelming voice thundered through his mind
Stop diverting your attention. Those vermin are not important, so dont waste MY time hunting them. Turn your mount you fool, the one you seek is in the house
Not being able to resist, Akhorahil turned his mount and headed for the small house on the plains. A few minutes later the fellbeast hit the ground with a soft bump, next to the stables. Akhorahil dismounted and started walking around the stables. Rainwater was streaming down his cloack and hood, yet they never got soaked or even wet.
Akhorahil crossed the farmyard, heading for the forsaken residence.
"Forsaken, yes, but not empty. For I can feel you are in there, my dear victim, I can feel you."
Akhorahil walked around the house to back door.
"I know you don't expect me to be here. You think I'm still chasing your comrades. Hah, you humans and elves and your loyalty towards your friends. Worth nothing."
When Akhorahil passed a window, he suddenly felt fear. Not his fear, but the fear of the creature inside.
"So, you have noticed me? All the better."
Akhorahil slowly opened the back door. Inside it was cold and dark, but he didn't even notice. He walked to the livingroom. A flash of lightning lighted up the room when he entered. His hand unsheated his weapon of his own accord, then Akhorahil closed in on the shivering elven female.
« Reply #2 on Oct 2, 2005, 10:58am »
Tho two horses tastes delicious after months of orc meat and slaughter waist. Screwda removes a small piece of horse-meat from his left tusk. This place seemed quite safe to Screwda. It was dry and warm in here. Screwda peeps trough the small gap between the two stable-doors for signs of orcs.
The plain looked calm and peaceful except for the storm. Screwda turned around, reassured by the safety of the stable. Screwda begins to slumber when suddenly a black figure passes the window. A shiver of fear descends his spine. Orcs, they have returned. They've found me. They army should wait just outside here. What must I do? No torturing again.
Screwda jumps up, knowing that he gets to do something, Now. He examines his situation by sketching a mental cube surrounded by orcs. He attaches another mental cube to it, the farm, where no orcs can stand.
..............................
...... ______...........
......|........|............
......|House|............Just to get a simple idea of Screda's
ooo |........|............thoughts.
o __|_____|............
o|........|o...............---------->'o' = Orc
o|Stable|o ..............-------->'_' or '|' = Wall
o|_____|o...............-------->'...' = Empty space
ooooooo.................
...............................
The thoughts fade to make room for a way to escape. The wall. i got to break straight trough the wall to get inside the farm. From the farm can I get away from the orcs.
Screwda sprints to an empty horse cage and starts wrench at a part of the fencing. It starts moving with a sound of splintering wood after a few seconds. Fear feeds Screwda's muscles and he breaks up a wooden ram with a last single pull. He takes a sprint and a mass of complete force breaks trough the wall of the stable right into the entrance-hall.
« Reply #3 on Oct 10, 2005, 9:13am »
Akhorahil's dagger was nearly ripping the elf's chest, when the sound of breaking walls filled the room. It seemed to come from the entrance hall. The sound broke his concentration for a few seconds, as he looked up to see the source of the noise. The elven female on the ground immediately grasped this opportunity and attempted a desperate kick for Akhorahil's sword. And hit. With a cold clang the sword fell to the ground. The elf then got up and ran for the entrance hall, ignoring the sounds of destruction. Akhorahil retrieved his sword and followed her.
« Reply #4 on Oct 10, 2005, 10:41am »
Screwda lies stunned for a moment. The wall was tougher than Screwda expected. His consciousness returned as quick as it vanished. Orcs, It was the orcs. All around me. And they're here, maybe in here. Quick!
Screwda jumps up and runs in the direction of the front door. Suddenly an elven woman appears on his way. She seemed to flee from the living room. In a burs of sympathize Screwda realizes that this elf must be fleeing for the same danger as he.
And as quick as a wink, Screwda grabs the woman and runs trough the back door, leaving behind a big, collapsing, troll-sized hole.
« Reply #5 on Oct 21, 2005, 3:21pm »
When Akhorahil turned the corner, the elf was gone. Yet two new things had shown up: a troll-sized hole towards the stable, and another one where the back door once was.
"Hmmm, It seems the two of us are not the only ones here. I wonder what kind of monster made a hole that big."
Akhorahil walked outside trought the hole. To his surprise, he saw a troll carrying his victim.
"It would be reckless to attack this beast. And needless, for the beast will surely eat her."
The dark voice spoke again, crashing like a sledgehammer hitting the back of his head.
No, we cannot take the risk. Her death is to important for us. Slay her with you own hands, so I can see it is accomplished.
Only able to obey, Akhorahil moved towards the troll. He now spoke with his dreadfull, hissing voice.
"Give her to me, or be slain. The witch king demands her death, and so it shall happen."
« Reply #6 on Oct 22, 2005, 9:51am »
Scewda paralyzes as he hears the frightening voice behind him. The elven woman has fallen unconscious, likely because she could the the origin of the voice.
It's over for me. If I turn around will I face my death. A whole horde of orcs shall look and laugh at me and this scary-voiced
commander will kill me.
Then the Nazgul's words pierce Screwda's thoughts and he realizes that the women is worth his own life. Screwda turns around. A shiver creeps down his spine as he looks at the Nazgul.
"This be my Elf, you filthy orc leader. Screwda will only give her to you if you kill all the orcs who chase me."
« Reply #7 on Oct 25, 2005, 1:50pm »
Akhorahil speaks in a calm but demanding voice.
"No. It is not your place to state conditions. Give me the elven woman or you will die. The Witch King, Lord of all Nazgul, demands it."
He will die either way. Don't let him go.
« Reply #8 on Oct 26, 2005, 3:15am »
Screwda looks around. He sees and empty plain with only a Nazgul, a farm and a carbonized tree at the horizon.
"You kill Screwda? You got no horde, you are slow and Screwda be strong. What would you do?"
Then Screwda realizes a touch of his past. He sees himself caught by some weak orcs. He realizes he may not risk the danger. He breaks down the conversation, turns around and starts running.
"You won't get me nor the elf, filthy orc leader."
« Reply #9 on Oct 26, 2005, 5:34am »
Akhorahil whispered to himself
"You brought this to yourself, stupid beast. Hah, to call me an orc leader!"
Akhorahil ran back to the fellbeast, which was still waiting behind the stables. He jumped upon the creature's back. When grabbed the reins, the beast expelled a shriek and took wing. They made a circular move above the farm. A flash of lightning lighted up the plains, and the silhouette of a huge man-shaped being could be seen running away from the buildings. Akhorahil flew another circle, and then he started to pursuit the troll.
"You will not deny us our prize, troll-creature. Run fast, for it will make you live a few seconds longer."
The nazgul started to close in on his prey, and the beast streched put his claws, ready to strike.
« Reply #10 on Oct 26, 2005, 6:42am »
All his emotions vanished. His mind changed over to his natural instinct. Fear was the only thing that remained. Fear of dieing, fear of the past. Adrenaline was created in a continual stream. His muscles couldn't stop moving, he didn't even feel them.
The elf on his left shoulder was only ballast. but he didn't threw her away because there was only one thing more worst than his past, condemning someone to his past. That was why he carried her forth.
The plain where empty. No city, house nor farm covered the horizon. Some trees stood patiently, waiting for the end of the world. He knew that it wouldn't take long. They knew it too.
Screwda sensed the Nazgul extremely clear. He could hear the breathing of the beast and feel the movement in the air. The smell was impossible the describe. It smelled like death but combined with... pleasure. It was terrible.
Screwda's senses searched for anything, anything that could safe him from this approaching death, or worse. He thought out about everything. The air was his enemy. Screwda could do nothing with it while the Nazgul made speed due it's existence. The earth under his feet made him able to run but it had no other use at the moment. The trees, there had to be some use of the trees. Too bad that only the use as club was made up in his brain. A small pool on his left distracted Screwda for a moment. He could dive into it but the risk that it was too shallow haunted his thoughts as he passed it.
Time ran short as claws approached and the Fellbeast' s shriek pierced his ears. Fear... eternal fear... Screwda was destined to flee in fear. He had to be brave but death scared him. Everything was useless. He should die within a few seconds, the faster the better.
The massive force of speed and power took another breath and suddenly braked. Screwda turned around. Never should he feel the torturing again. This shall be his vengeance and his death. Screwda unleashed a terrifying roar as he rushed up to the Nazgul. He made a giant leap and the two massive forces collided and hit the ground with a thundering blow.