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Keljeck  Post of the Month 10/082008-11-14 13:34:04 GMT
This Month's Post of the Month is by Flynx. It can be found in the thread "The Seeds of War" going on currently in the Southern Hills.
The Hylian Army took no prisoners when it breached the Lizalfos’ final defense and took the towering fortification as its own. By the time Sheen entered the broken gates of Castle Claw the remaining Lizalfos had either fled or were putting up a last futile struggle as his men raised a pristine royal flag above the fort’s highest tower.
“Get these men on stretchers and ready for a proper burial.” He remarked as he stepped over the severed corpse of one of their fallen reptilian enemies. The inside of the former Lizalfos stronghold was a sickening sight. Slain Lizalfos and Hylians alike were strewn about the ground. Already his soldiers were busy pulling reptilian bodies aside while covering their fallen comrades with tarp and blankets before moving them to a more restful area. It was the most they could do to respect their dead while still under the threat of battle.
Half an hour prior the very ground he was walking on was Lizalfos territory. Now the large royal flag with a bright Triforce emblazoned across its front waved high in the air above them. Sheen’s lieutenants were already waiting for him.
“Capture successful; though we lost a number of soldiers while securing the fort. We have the remainder of the archers stationed around the eastern towers. What should we do about the Moblins?”
Sheen nodded, scratching at the ends of his beard. There was still the problem of the Moblins. They may have taken the fort, but the Moblins were still plowing through his front lines. It took at least two or three soldiers to take down a Moblin. Even with the horses and catapults the Hylians were making poor progress on the open battlefield. It was once again a one-front battle. It was time to pool their resources.
“Pull back. We have this fort. Let’s make some use of it.”
His lieutenants moved quickly, issuing the orders that the Hylians on the Moblin front were to retreat.
* * *
“Firyal.”
“Falak.”
Finally, Falak’s voice cracked slowly, her expression darkening, “You followed me. You must have left soon after I did.”
Her sister returned the gaze without a trace of apology.
Falak hissed, her eyes flashing dangerously, “You left behind our mother—and your daughter—to come after me.”
Firyal gave a measured sigh, blowing air through closed teeth. “You leave us all the time.” She remarked pointedly, appearing unfazed by her twin’s apparent ire. She turned her attention to her leather pouch, pulling a ration of food from its confines. “Lean back—I don’t want you to bleed to death before I can fix you. Eat this.” She pushed the small portion into the other Gerudo’s hands. She added, on a softer note this time, “And they’re both doing fine. Mother misses you. Yamha wants you to teach her to use a bow.” Firyal offered a half-smile as she dabbed a wet cloth to Falak’s arm.
“And… this.” She uncorked a bottle and passed it along to the other woman. “Drink it slowly.”
Falak didn’t have the heart to protest or make any more of a scene. She resigned herself to exhaustion. The potion was warm and foul, though it spread a tingling sensation down her spine. She winced as Firyal rubbed some sort of thick ointment onto one of the open cuts on her back. She was still amazed and stunned that her sister followed her—even more amazed that she dove into some brutal battle to save her. She wasn’t sure whether to be grateful or infuriated.
“I’m taking Yamha away.”
Falak’s head jerked up as she looked over to her sister in bewilderment. “Excuse me?”
Firyal’s expression was cold, hardened. “I just thought I should let you know. I would have told you sooner but you went… gallivanting off again. I’m tired of this. Everything. The Gerudo way of life. It’s killing us slowly. So I’m leaving and I’m taking Yamha.”
“She’s your daughter. It’s none of my concern what you decide to do.”
There were a few minutes of silence before Firyal’s voice cracked, “Falak please. I’m going to go live in Kakariko. You know, they are rebuilding it. I came after you because I want you to come with us. It will be a better life for all of us. You know that. You can’t keep doing this forever.”
“You know I can’t do that.” Falak stood up, giving a bandage around her arm a final tug. She looked evenly at her sister, “Firyal, it was a poor decision for you to come here. Go back to the desert. Do what you need to do for your daughter, but do not involve me. I have duties—”
“Duties.” Firyal laughed harshly. Falak was surprised by the sudden malice in her sister’s voice. “Duties.” She repeated, amazed and angry. “Oh Falak you are so… so delusional. I don’t know what to do anymore. I really do feel sorry for you. You have… no… no idea… what it is that you’re missing.”
Falak’s mouth twisted into a sad smile and she shook her head. “I am sorry. Best of luck to you in your… travels. Say goodbye to Yamha for me.”
* * *
Tareth sighed begrudgingly as he climbed a rocky ledge along one of the far hills. He did his best to remain composed—at least for the sake of showing some sort of authority over the two other men trailing behind him. It was laughable that someone of his rank was relegated to this… goose chase. However, the General was adamant about finding the Gerudo. The two soldiers caught up to him, red-faced and huffing beneath the brutal sun. They didn’t seem to mind their task and Tareth imagined they were just glad they weren’t ordered into battle with the Moblins.
“Say, why’s it so important we find this Gerudo anyway?” One of them asked, taking a swig of water from his canteen before leaning on his knees with both hands.
Tareth frowned, annoyed with his subordinate’s casual tone. “It doesn’t matter if it’s important or not. General Sheen ordered us to find and kill her. So that’s what we’re going to do.”
Farore, he sounded like such a boy. Tareth grimaced inwardly before silently motioning them onward. It didn’t entirely surprise him that no one took him seriously… he still hadn’t fully wrapped his mind around being a lieutenant. A week ago the previous lieutenant passed away from natural causes and following a surprising course of events Tareth was promoted. He never imagined that within the next few days his rite of passage would include a major battle against two sworn enemies.
“Sir, do you hear that?” One of the soldiers whispered suddenly, dropping into a crouch behind a nearby boulder.
Tareth and the other man scooted behind the large rock and peered over it carefully. Sure enough, further down the hill he spotted two of the Gerudo women and a horse. He had learned extensively about Gerudo fighting techniques as part of his training, but he never actually saw one for himself. They were formidable. He had never seen anything like it. One was hurt—dressed in red. The other dressed in white.
“Merciful Nayru. There’s two of them.” One of the soldiers whistled through closed teeth, fixated intently on the two foreign beings in front of them.
Tareth nodded to the other man. “Jerome, get your bow ready. We’ll attack at the same time so they don’t have time to flee. I’ll take the one in white—you get the one in red.”
“Yes, s-sir.”
The lieutenant frowned as he watched the man nervously pick up his bow with shaking fingers. “What’s the matter with you?”
“N-nothing, Lieutenant. I just don’t know how I feel about shooting at a pair of women.”
“Those creatures…” Tareth began calmly, keeping his voice as low as possible, “have allied themselves with the Moblins. They killed your friends and comrades in cold blood and they will do it again. Those aren’t women. They’re Gerudo.”
His partner nodded, temporarily soothed by this rationale as he raised his bow. They both drew back the strings… the woman in white was reaching out to the other one… she was in plain view… now was the time! His two fingers slid off the string and in an instant the woman jerked painfully, clutching her throat before keeling over. Before Tareth could feel any sort of relief he heard the unoccupied man fumbling beside him for his bow. He looked to Jerome, whose hands were still clenched around an arrow. His face etched deeply with regret.
“I… I can’t—!”
An arrow whistled through the air, piercing Jerome straight through the forehead. The other soldier cursed wildly as his friend crumpled over.
“Where did she go?! Farore. Lieutenant, the other one is gone!”
Tareth was dazed, though revulsion quickly replaced his shock as he wiped a spatter of blood off his face. He looked over the boulder. The Gerudo dressed in red had disappeared.
“Calm down.” He hissed to the shaking man beside him, “Get your weapon ready.”
Other soldiers were currently fighting Lizalfos and Moblins. He couldn’t even take care of a pair of girls. This thought coupled with the revolting sight of the fallen man next to him made Tareth feel nauseated.
There was an awful howl—suddenly the Gerudo was upon them. Tareth couldn’t tell if the warrior before him was anguished or enraged… she swiftly sliced the remaining soldier beside him across the chest before he even had time to stand up. Tareth realized it was mostly likely a combination of the two. This couldn’t be a human he was fighting against. What did he learn in his training? Gerudos. Twin scimitars. The fury was too raw, almost bestial. Prone to intricate footwork, often with the intention of confusing their enemy. Spin attacks that are both defensive and offensive. There was no confusion here. She was going to hurt him, and the malice behind that was very evident. Tareth grabbed blindly at the open wound in his arm. They never taught him about this. His instructor would always remind them that the difference between a Moblin and a Gerudo was like the difference between a dog and a cat. One found distinct pleasure in toying with its prey. At the time Tareth and his fellow trainees found this comparison amusing—even humorous. However, as he collapsed to the ground—both convinced and praying that it was finally over—he realized, albeit too late, that it was no laughing matter. In fact, through his pain-ridden daze he swore the Gerudo was crying—screaming and sobbing—as if she were the one slowly being killed.
* * *
Falak really was a pathetic sight to behold. She stood, wailing incomprehensibly, over the bloody remains of the poor Hylians. Any discipline and composure had abandoned her. She was a pitiful shaking shell of a once strong firm-willed warrior. She lost friends before. It was inevitable given her position in life. Some soldiers claimed to become hardened to the death of comrades. But as callous as she became to taking the lives of enemies, the loss of a Gerudo never got easier. The loss of her sister was something she never dared think about. Now that it had happened, and so suddenly, Falak wasn’t entirely sure what to do with herself.
There was nothing here to give Firyal a proper Gerudo burial, and the thought of leaving her in these blasted hills made Falak sick. Vacantly, she removed the arrow, cleaned the wound, and took the blanket off the horse’s back. It was too much for her to concentrate on the actual act of caring for her dead sister. So instead Falak focused intensely to find the exact word to describe what it was she was feeling. It wasn’t time for grief. Sadness and anger were too casual, too light. Sorrow. That was getting closer.
The horse’s brown eyes were soft—somber—as Falak gently positioned Firyal atop the creature’s back. She grabbed her scimitars and began stumbling up the rocky hillside once more heading back toward the din of battle. She would take her sister back to the desert once this was all over. And she was certain it wouldn’t be long before it was all over.
"Get up." Her voice was barely audible as she hissed violently toward the young man cowering a few feet away. He was bleeding profusely, still barely alive. She stopped herself in time. Falak's eyes were bloodshot, her face set in an expression of unbearable pain. Tareth his name was. A lieutenant. The murderer of her sister. "I know someone who would like to speak with you."
| Keljeck Post of the Month 9/082008-10-09 09:37:28 GMT
This month's Post of the Month is by Kurogo, and can be found in the Lost Woods in the Temple Thread
Rue could consider that Kalen was finally earning his keep if she'd actually ever promised him anything more than a little adventure around the Temple. His nimble spellwork did plenty to aid her efforts just then and she was left to cast Genko a quick glance to make sure he was alright... for a blind woman, she sure did seem to look around frequently. The puppet-child would be fine so long as he didn't hurl himself into battle once more. The wizard's control of the wind made sure that the giant spider wasn't going anywhere while Rue finished her incantation, raising her staff high above her head with the glowing lantern jangling about on its end. In a dazzling display, globules of spectral blue flame leapt from within the lantern to orbit around it as planets would a central star, whirling faster and faster until, with a thrust of the staff towards the incapacitated monster, they were sent hurtling into its skull-plated abdomin.
Already infuriated by the damage brought by Genko and Kalen, the Skulltula was too distracted to even notice the ghostly flames until it was too late. The fires struck its boney carapace and spread across it as if the creature were slathered in oil, streaking over shell and flesh alike with equal swiftness. The horrific screeches the monster let out rang shrilly off the old stone walls as it burned, thrashing about in wild abandon, slamming itself into the narrow walls of the stairwell in some futile bid for escape. Kalen's spell would not give it a chance to break free though... the beast was doomed. Rue's lantern never wavered as she held it aloft, maintaining the spellfire that ate its way through the spider's hairy body until enough flesh had been devoured that it simply collapsed in on itself as a charred husk. The wrathful glow in its many eyes finally flickered away into darkness as the blue flames seeped away, dissapating into the air along with the acrid stench of burned meat.
For a long moment after the echoing screams of the dying beast ended, Rue remained where she stood with her staff held firm. From Kalen's point of view from up the stairwell, it seemed as though some new life had flowed into the woman. She was young but whithered, as if having been ill... yet as she stood there, her ghostly white robe lashing about in the remnants of his wind spell, her pale eyes illuminated by the eerie flames of her lantern... there was something there, something about her... it spoke to him in a furtive whisper, dredging up notions of a power, deep and hidden; something that had been forgotten by Hylians long ago.
Rue faltered.
The phantom image of a mighty sorceress was gone in an instant, whisked away like smoke on the breeze. In its place remained the tired, sickly woman in tattered old robes who staggered seemingly under the weight of her own body. Rue swooned and her staff clattered noisily to the floor at her feet before she too fell, dropping to her hands and knees on the old cobbled floors with a gasp as though she'd been physically struck. The woman's pallid face was streaked with sweat, leaving her pulling wheezing breaths of the moldy air like it was trying to run away from her. Damn... overdid it. She had let herself become too proud and sure, gorged on the profit of discovering the Forest Temple and its wealth of monster souls to claim. A mere fire spell had sapped her strength to the point that her limbs fell numb and her head swam. It was only some small consolation that the Skulltula's beastly soul was hers to claim with her glowing lantern, though she felt no better even as the invisible orb was devoured by the flickering light of her relic.
She wanted to rise, to make some wry comment and pass off her weakness as nothing more than a brief moment of dizziness... yet she couldn't. It was a humiliation the woman had come to know fairly well in days past and it served her right to have it bite her again when she'd just begun to forget about it. Her power had its limits. She couldn't go around expending her strength and hope to survive long enough to see it fully restored someday. Rue's milky eyes remained downcast as she panted for breath, trying to recover her composure while avoiding meeting the gazes of Kalen and Genko alike.
| Keljeck Post of the Month 8/082008-09-07 12:52:48 GMT
August's Post of the Month comes from The Lost Korok, in the thread Books and Errands. Which can be found in Castle Town
Raime eagerly grabbed his things also, which wasn't much considering. There was his Deku Leaf, Boko Stick, and then simply his pack, sleeping palet, and his woolen bag. It wasn't much, considering he could carry them all strapped on his back. In fact, when he jumped out of the carriage's door, the gear looked rather ridiculous on such a young boy. But if this fact drew any stares from his sole companion at the moment Raime didn't notice or care, but instead happily stomped thorugh the rain towards the door. This time around he wasn't going at a slow pace simply to feel the water running don his face, no, this time he was hurrying as much as he could to get inside. He knew from experience that it was a bad thing indeed for his gear to get soggy, especially his sleeping palet.
Which he wouldn't be using tonight! Goddesses. That was a happy thought!
Raime dashed through the doorway a moment after Molly did, and slowly closed it behind him as he did so. The sight that greeting him was welcoming indeed, and immediately the young Kokiri felt his insides grow warm. A content smile fluttered on his face. This was a nice place. The fire crackled merrily in the hearth, giving off a bright glow that illuminated the room, which, though obviously a peasant household, held a great deal of charm. Raime was suddenly very glad to have stumbled onto Molly. Who knew he would be able to stay in a place this nice. And for so small of a price!
But his cheeful disposition started to ebb slowly away when he distinctly started to feel uncomfortable. All the weight on his shoulders, just moments ago relieved during the carriage ride, only reminded him doubly how exhausted he felt. With more haste then Raime thought was still in him he shed off all the gear, the sack, pack and palet, and let them fall with in a heap on the floor. He took a moment to lean against a nearby wall, catching his breath.
"Aunt Addy!" Molly suddenly called out, catching Raime's attention. Who was that-
As if to answer his thoughts a stubby woman, coated in skirts and aprons, appeared out of a doorway, hurryingly patting down her frizzy hair as she did so. For a moment, though he was unsure why, Raime took a hesitant step back, as though intimidated, but as soon as the feeling came it fled. Instead he simply looked at her curiously, but was otherwise silent. Immediately Molly jumped into introductions, and Raime felt a smile creep onto his face and then blossom when Madame Mallowburne spoke.
"Hi!" He said, shaking her hand, "Nice to met ya! It's very kind of you to open up your house!" After the introductions were done, Aunt Addy sent off Molly to go put away the oxen and do other chores, which left the two of them alone. To Raime's surprise Madame Mallowburne immediately broke out into a flurry of activity, rushing out of the room and then returning a moment later with a towel and some clothes. Even with that obvious sign before him, it was not until Aunt Addy outstretched the undershirt next to him, as though measuring it, did he realize what she was doing. He felt immdiately uncomfortable, he had never experienced such a motherly act before, even one so small as this. Meekly he tried to protest, but the words were uttered so softly that they got drowned out by Aunt Addy's bright exclaimations. Again, another peculiar sensation overcame him then. He wondered if this what real Hylian children felt towards adults, this overwhelming sensation of respect and submissiont to another's will.
He would never know. He was no Hylian.
In silence he waltzed over to the room. Slipping into it and closing the door behind him. The sight greeting him was heart-warming indeed. The small fire, warmly blazing, in the nearby corner, the bed (The bed! A overwhelming exhaustion took him then, and it took all his effort not to collaspe onto it then and there) , a nightstand and some draywers underneath it. There to on the wall to the right was a large oval window, with the constant patter of rain obscuring it, that overlooked the foresty hillside around the small hamlet and the cloudy sky above, shrouded in-
Wait. Could that.
Immediately dropping both the towel and the shirt on the ground Raime darted to the window, finding the latch and swinging it open, he leaned out it, not minding the rain that slapped against the back of his head one bit. "Tidos?" He called out, though softly, afraid of the either of his patrons hearing. He shouldn't have bothered, the storm and its thunder drowned him out completely. So he tried again, "Tidos!" But the flicker of light had vanished, if it had ever been there to begin with.
With a sigh Raime slipped away from the window, not realizing he had still left it slightly open. Mechanically, he began to follow Madame Mallowburne's instructions, stripping off of his green garb and leaving them in a pile by the burning fireplace. Left only in his underclothes he began drying off, his mind utterly lost in thought. He dried off his legs, then his chest and arms, and finally his head, wrapping the towel around his skull completely, scrubbing, in his anger, so hard that he felt his scap burning. He had suddenly been overcome with a vast annoyance, a prinkling irritation, which, truthfully, only hid a mindnumbing fear for his friend.
With a jerk Raime tore off the towel from his face. Where could he have-
"Hey Raime!"
The yelp broke pass his lips before Raime could stop it, but the reaction only caused the fairy to laugh. Have you ever heard a fairy laughing? Well, Tidos was laughing hard then, the small sphere of light bobbing this way and that. It was then that Raime, with his finely tuned hearing, heard the distinct sounds of footsteps coming from nearby. He moved without thinking, with such nimble and swift instincts honed after years of wanderig through the wilderness. Raime grabbed his the undershirt, pulled it over his head, and then snatched the fairy out of the air. He bolted over to the fireplace and slipped Tidos inside the limp form of his cap, despite the background of Tidos' murmuring of "Not again!"
"Raime?" Molly called out. Causing both of them to fall still and still. "It's Molly. Can I come in?" He was half tempted to- "I have food."
"Food?! Raime exclaimed. His tone said it all.
Again, one had to be surprised by his reflexes. Raime bolted to the door, opening it up wide and, not knowing (and honestly, not caring) about Molly's balancing act ripped the tray out of her hands and then rushed back to the bed, sitting crossed-legged on it and began eating in a flash. Stuffing food down his throat faster then he ever had before. Oh, Goddesses! He was hungry. So, so, so hungry! So hungry he didn't care what it was, if it had been dog bladder he would have scarffed it down. But, midway through eatting it, the idea did surface, and so, relunctantly, he stopped, whipped his mouth, and looked.
"Cucco pot pie and chesse!" He suddenly exclaimed, in wonder, "Milk too!" Compared to the berries and nuts he's been eating for a month this was a feast!
A sudden thought occured to him, and he glanced up at Molly, only to glance away, embarressed. Though he had spent the better part of the decade in the Hylain hillside even he knew that was bad manners. All of it. But then again, its not like Raime ever had parental supervision...ever. But still, the guilt wouldn't leave, and, deciding to be decent, he pushed the tray aside (relunctantly) and said, "Uh...sorry." How could he possibly explain? After all, didn't he order food just a second ago in the tavern? How could he possibly say that he had really been famished but the looks he had been getting had unnerved him so much that he wouldn't eat? How could he say any of that? Or even some of it?
He couldn't say it. So he didn't. Instead...
"So...uh, is there anything else?" He could have sworn he heard Tidos laughing, laughing, laughing.
But it was all in his head.
| Keljeck Hello World!2008-09-07 11:33:35 GMT
I've got two announcements to make regarding our front page, but first I'd like to thank Tophu, ChocoMooseMan, and The Pi for setting this all up. After spending two years in the No-Frontpage-Wilderness it's great to be back with an even greater front page than before. Sometimes I just stare at it in wonder...
There are two things that are on the sidebar that were never discussed before. First there's "Post of the Month Arch." and "Roleplayer Spotlight Arch." So a little explanation is in order.
Post of the Month will be as it sounds. Every month at some time the admins will get together and choose a post they really like from the last month. Whether it be really funny, sad, action packed, or just plain awesome. Don't worry, we'll credit you. I think it's a great way to show everyone what kind of writers we are.
The Roleplayer Spotlight will be intermittently published. Think of it as a Time Magazine interview. One of our admins, or perhaps another staff member, will interview a certain beloved member of our forums and ask them all sorts of questions. Like, why they Roleplay, how they got into Roleplaying, or if they don't Roleplay anymore we can just let them tell us a little more about themselves, or tell us stories.
Anyway, that's it for now. Stay tuned to this page, we have some very exciting updates coming up!
| The Pi  The Main Page is BACK!2008-09-01 19:03:19 GMT
Welcome to our new main page!
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