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post #1 of 11 (permalink) Old 02-26-12, 09:14 PM Thread Starter
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Default A Good Night (Dark Elf)

(Before you read, it's probably not that good.This is my first time writing in the WH Fantasy universe, and the first of few writing attempts in general. I'm trying to get out of my comfort zone and write different characters .This is most likely just going to be a short story.)

A Good Night


Karond Kar. Harsh. Unforgiving. Those who came here were either broken, or did the breaking. My namesake.

I was a Corsair, under the hire of..Wait for it...no one! I worked for myself, and I killed and pillaged as I like. The wails from the damned hanging on the walls of Karond Kar were lullabies to us, the proud Dark Elves. I was named after the city of my birth; my prostitute mother's laziness knew no bounds, not even in the naming of her child.

I was approaching it now. Its black walls were a welcome sight after a long journey of raiding. I had gotten a good pick of slaves, and had some good times. The rocking of the boat among the waves slammed the fools below into the hull, their groans and begging sounding up.

Annoying bastards. I ripped the trapdoor below me up, jogging down the stairs. They were a sorry sight. I walked along the sides, grinning at the sight of them chained. Some begged, some just stared. There was one who was different...a human. Disgusting vermin. He spat towards me.

"Your arrogance is your suffering, fool!" I kicked him in his ribs, his curses stopping from lack of breath. I tore my knife from its small sheath on my hip, running a finger along its jagged, serrated edge. I smiled.

I undid the cuffs around one of his hands. It fell to his lap, limp. He looked at me, confusion resting in his eyes. He began to pull at his other hand. I laughed. The simpleton believed I was granting him freedom.

"Raise your hand." He began to jabber at me in his brutish tongue. "Raise your hand you insolent pig-dog!" He continued his incessant jabbering. I seized his hand, raising it up. I plunged my blade through his palm, blood splattering onto my face.

I grinned. He screamed. I twisted the blade, the serrations rending his flesh apart. He began to weep in pain. I tore the blade out, wiping the flat of it against his throat to rid its beautiful surface of his filthy blood. I grabbed a fistful of his matted brown hair, slamming his head back into the wood paneling of my ship. He fell into a deep sleep.

I heard bells ringing from above. I gave the other slaves a mocking smirk, and walked out from the below-decks, preparing the ship to dock. I would fetch a good price for this catch. Enough to purchase that which will let me do what I wish. My mind turned to perverse and violent thoughts as I pondered what, indeed, I did wish.

***********


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post #2 of 11 (permalink) Old 02-27-12, 03:01 AM Thread Starter
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When we reached the city, my hireling was waiting, a short Wood Elf, spirit broken and strength raised. He went inside the boat, pulling out the best of the slaves by the chains around their necks. I inspected each of this month's crops, noting any imperfections. They would have to do.

We led them through the city. It never ceased to amaze me how beautiful it was, constantly changing. One day you see a man being stabbed in broad daylight, the next you see a store robbed. An everlasting masterpiece. We passed through to the slave market with little incident- save for one.
************

Some peasant dressed in filthy rags with no weapons in sight, a shameful sight for my people really, had the gall to beg to me.

"Spare a shilling, sir?"

I stopped in my tracks, and glared at the beggar. "Do you mock me?"

"Of course not sir, I would never insult one of your place."

"I can hear the tremor in your voice. Are you afraid? You should be. You mock me and our people with...this." I spit out the word in disgust, looking at his rags. "I turned, my back to him, and pulled a schilling from my coin pouch. Taking a small vial from my pocket, I doused it in liquid from the flask.

I turned, holding out the schilling. "Take it, scum." He took it from my hand, hesitatingly, and began to move his hand towards his pocket. "Aren't you going to see if it's real?" The man looked at me with an odd look, but bit it anyway. It was real. So was the poison as it began its trip through his arrogant blood.

I continued on my way, my slaves following. I was smiling.
****************

When we reached the slave market, I was feeling good. I had a glimpse of the others, and for the most part, they were worse than my crop. Was going to be a good month. I registered them for the auction, and browsed the other wares briefly before heading to the nearest tavern, waiting for the auction hour to arrive.

I ended up at a nice tavern, went by the name of The Raven's Roost. I went inside, sitting at the counter. "Strongest you've got."

"Dwarven Rotgut, crown and 2 shillings."

I tossed over the coins, catching the sliding mug, forth spilling over my fingers as I raised it to my lips. It felt like my throat had caught fire, then iced over. The feeling spread to my stomach and all throughout and I sighed in content. The first drink after a long venture at sea was always the best.

I was on my third drink when she descended the stairs from the renter rooms. Dressed in a dark, flowing skirt and a blouse that fit loose, but still told some details. I had to have her. Turning to the bartender, I asked "Who's she?"

He chuckled. "Sorceress. Don't even try, boy."

I don't know whether it was his arrogance or my wanting her, but I was inspired to try at that moment. I would have her- a prize to be worthy of. It was the only thing women were good for- that sweet dance of pleasure.

I stood from my seat, pushing through the crowded masses to get to her. Tonight would be a good night.


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post #3 of 11 (permalink) Old 02-27-12, 04:22 PM
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Default ooooooo!

A tough elf in the presence of a mean woman makes a weak man, broken in the shadows. Great start - I hate him already.

A good reputation take a long time to build, but only a moment to destroy. Wow, that's deep! Check out the H.O.E.S. short story competition.
Other stories from Adrian.
Look up Adrian in the "Compendium" to find them. Thanks
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post #4 of 11 (permalink) Old 02-27-12, 11:47 PM Thread Starter
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Pushing aside a short dark elf, I reached her. "Greetings, m'lady." I made a short bow. "How do you do on this fine night?"

"That is none of your business. You, however, would do well to stay away from me..." She muttered an incantation. "...or it might end badly for you." Fire balled in her palm as she looked at me, severely.

"Perhaps you mistake my intentions, I only wish to-"

She held a hand up, interrupting me. "You only wish to bed me. You wear a sword and dagger openly on your waist and smell of the sea. You are a Corsair, a noble profession, one to be respected for your daring. But not one of my tastes, and certainly not one that I would break my vows for." She strode past me, leaving the tavern.

The innkeeper began laughing, and her words rang in my ears, stinging. My own pride began to mock me. I scowled. This insolent woman's transgressions wouldn't be tolerated. How dare she speak to me in a manner like that! The bitch would pay for it. I left the bar, dark thoughts storming in my mind.

I saw her walking down the street some distance away. I began following her, my head held low and hatred seething within me. I forced myself to keep in check. This required patience.

Eventually, she stopped at the Dark Convent headquarters. I waited in the alleys near it, planning my deed.After several hours, she came out, a book in her hands. I was ready. I drew my blade, hearing it rasp against it's sheath. She turned and received the hilt slamming into her temple.She was unconscious before she hit the ground.

I tore the arm of her blouse, tying it around her mouth and gagging her to avoid her pesky spells. I kept fumbling the knot, and I got more and more annoyed and nervous as I did so.For a brief moment, I panicked. "No no no no what if someone finds me why am I doing this.." I took several deep breaths. I got myself under control and tossed a hood over her head, throwing her over my shoulder.

I began to sprint through the back alleys, faster than I could remember moving before. Several times I got lost, and had to desperately backtrack to find my way. Thank the gods I was not caught by the thieves and cutthroats that often lurk there- they surely would have deprived me of my prize.Eventually, I reached my ship.

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post #5 of 11 (permalink) Old 02-28-12, 12:38 AM
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There are several places where your spacing is off and the sentences run together. You may want to proof read your work once you've posted it to make sure you don't have things like...

Quote:
...deprived me of my prize.Eventually, I reached my ship.


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post #6 of 11 (permalink) Old 02-28-12, 01:16 AM Thread Starter
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Okay, thanks for telling me about that. My goal so far has been to get it all out there and then proof it but it probably disrupts readability..I'll get right on that

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post #7 of 11 (permalink) Old 02-28-12, 01:30 AM
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I can empathize with wanting to get a story out, but rushing leads to mistakes. Granted, not hitting the space bar a time or two isn't a big deal. It's the other mistakes that you might make that impact the quality of the story that you need to watch out for. Just some friendly advice from someone that learned the hard way.


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post #8 of 11 (permalink) Old 02-28-12, 01:45 AM Thread Starter
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Truth to that. Thanks. I'll take it into consideration when I'm writing from now on.

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post #9 of 11 (permalink) Old 03-01-12, 01:00 AM Thread Starter
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She began to stir as I took her on the boat, and by the time I entered my cabin she had fully awoken. She began to struggle, beating her fists on my back and trying to speak through the gag to cast a spell. I threw her to the floor, her head hitting the wood boards. I grabbed her throat as she was stunned, pulling her up and dragging her onto the bed.

I pulled my knife from its scabbard, grinning. She reached up and tore her hood off. I began to approach her, the tip of the blade directed at her. She froze, and reached up to untie her gag, moving as quickly as she could. I seized her wrists, slamming them to the bed,and tied them to it's posts. I moved my knife to her neck, letting it slide softly, teasingly. Such a fun game.

I continued this way for a long while, sometimes just running the blade along her flesh, sometimes making small cuts and slits, nonlethal but painful.Sometimes I shoved the blade towards her in a fast motion only to stop an inch away or slam it into the bed behind her.She wept many times. She didn't appreciate the fun. She couldn't appreciate anything, not even me. ME! The greatest elf to live, even if no one knew it yet. They would know soon, however.

I worked the blade under her finger nail, prying up. She screamed, the sound muffled by the gag. Her fingernail popped away, landing on the bed. Blood began to flow freely, and I grinned. I cut three of her fingers off, letting them rest on the wardrobe. Then I moved to her toes, starting with the pinkie toe and moving to her larger one.

I stood, ignoring her screaming and squirming, going to my liquor cabinet. I took out a glass, a bottle of wine, and a corkscrew. I twisted the cork out with the screw, watching her calmly as I poured a glass. I knocked it back in one gulp, letting it fall to the floor and break. I reveled in the destruction, glass shards going everywhere.

I then reached down, grabbing the stem of the broken glass, shoving the wreckage of the glass into her leg. She screamed and whined. I looked at her. “Quit being such a yellow-bellied cur.” She looked at me with pure hatred, and I smiled. It was time- the cat was bored just playing with the mouse.

I straightened my appearance, sat next to her on the bed, smiled reassuringly, and then I slit her throat. She twisted and turned as she died, like a fish thrown onto the earth. Blood stained my sheets and the walls, as well as me. When she finally lay silent, I laughed. I continued laughing for some time.

Until I heard boots pounding on the deck.

I drew my sword as quietly as possible, ducking into the shadows. “No no no no who is it? Damn they know what I did...” I felt like a little one who was found guilty breaking something. As the boots drew nearer, I composed myself, and watched.
The door burst open, wood splintering over the room. The first man strolled in, examining the corpse on the bed. He was dressed in simple clothes, with a sword on his hip. The innkeeper from The Raven’s Roost entered after him, two more men following him. The first man looked away from the body to the innkeeper. “So you were right. He actually killed her, eh? Tough bastard. Wonder how tough.”
“This tough.” I growled, leaping forward and plunging my sword through his chest. My feet hit the ground as he fell back, and with a powerful pull ripped my blade from him. I whipped it in front of me, the blade burying itself half-way through the innkeeper’s neck. I twisted as a blade came towards me, taking my blade with me as I went out of the cabin. Rolling away from the battle, I began to run.

I went through the city, taking no care for direction or destination as I went through the alleys. My mind was ripping itself apart in panic. After a long chase I could still hear them approaching behind me. I found an old abandoned home, breaking the door. I looked back once, seeing them approaching faintly in the distance. Then I ran into the house, climbing the flight of stairs and standing at the side of the doorframe. Waiting.

Soon enough, I could hear the pounding of their boots on wood as they went up the stairs. One entered, and I brought my sword down, slashing the flesh of his back open. He wailed in pain, and I smiled, stepping closer. As I brought my sword in a downward arc, I was thrown back as part of my shoulder exploded. I heard a crack of thunder. The second man waved the smoke from his musket away, beginning to reload.

I got to my knees, slicing at the gunner’s ankle. As he fell in pain, I thrust my blade through his leg, twisting as I pulled it away. He clutched his leg as he writhed on the floor, blood rapidly pooling around him. I stood, but I didn’t have time to appreciate my victory. I heard a blade slicing the air behind me, and ducked as fast as I could.

Not fast enough. I felt the blade touch my temple and slice down through my ear to my neck before I was low enough it swept past. I swung around, bringing the blade up just in time to block my opponent’s. Our swords rang as they struck each other. I swung and he blocked. Swing, parry, readdress. I twisted to avoid his sword and he blocked my counterattack. He dodged my blow and sliced my leg. Limping, my defense faulted, and he got several more blows in, tearing open my cheek, my hand.

Finally, I saw an opening. I grabbed the hilt of my sword with both hands and thrusted through the opening, stabbing through his stomach. He froze in place, his sword falling to his side. I tore it out, turning to leave. I heard a cumbersome step, and then a blade sprouted from my chest.

It became hard to breath. I didn’t understand. Instinctively, I reversed my blade, plunging it back into my killer.

He fell back, taking my sword as well as his from me. I fell to my own knees, blood beginning to trickle down my chest, mixing with the freshly flowing crimson from my other rooms. I crawled to the far wall of the room, a large window taking up most of the wall.

Blood begins to stain the windowsill, dripping down to the floor. I can feel the sting of each cut, the unknown level of pain in each deep wound. I move my shoulder to my hip, unlatching my flask from my belt. As I raise my arm to place it on the sill, I feel the bullet lodged in my shoulder. At that moment, I know that I will not survive.

From the building’s location, I could see most of Karond Kar. Harsh, Desperate. Unforgiving. Death filled this place. No one would care about my death. “That bitch….it’s all her fault.” But was it? Or was it my own choices? Did I cause my death? Did fate?

I take a deep swig from my flask. My mouth fills with the now familiar taste of Dwarven Rotgut. This was me. I caused this. My choices. My undoing.

In my dying moments, I now realize. This was what I wished for. Glorious battle, good drink, a forbidden fruit brought to extinction. I’m fading away now…

I have no regrets. It was, truly, a good night. I die laughing.


Last edited by Dave T Hobbit; 03-01-12 at 11:40 AM. Reason: Merged posts
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post #10 of 11 (permalink) Old 03-01-12, 11:44 AM
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You added three posts within minutes. If you are updating the thread in a short period and no-one else has posted then please edit the existing post. Merged posts.

A good portrayal of extreme Dark Elf psychology with a satisfying ending.
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