Burning leaves.

There is a place.
A hidden place.
A place where shadows are real.
Illusions are solid here.

There is a voice.
An omnipresent voice.
A voice that directs all things.
Whispers are rules here.

A dark place where light never shines.
Sealed off from everything.
Filled with shadows and illusions and whispers.
Filled with grey.

All the leaves are burning here.
Burning but never turning to ash.
The fires rage on and on.
Always more to burn.

A silent place.
A quiet place.
A dark place.
A fiery place.

This place is where I exist.
The centre and the edges.
None can find me here.
I am god here.

A Gift from Dead Gods, 14.

It was two days later when they came into view of the the city. The great city of Rasnach was a city unlike any other on the face of their world. It stretched out for miles in all directions, towers clawing for the skies. Underneath it, Fyanha knew, were whole mazes of sewers and tunnels providing access to the undercity which lay beneath the city. In the centre of the city stood the temple of the Gods, now the grand temple of the Lord of Blades.
Fyanha looked around at the surrounding fields and then at the three people she travelled with. The armored form of the Champion looked at the city, his full helmet hiding his expression from her. Fyanha didn’t like that. She didn’t make an issue of it though, Luno was the chosen of the Lord of Blades. That gave him authority over her. The hulking Nathaniel loomed behind their leader, his expression worried. He was still getting used to his changed and improved body. He didn’t see it that way of course.
It was the elf on the huge mans shoulders who captured her attention the most. Fyanha was not a tall woman. The little elf on the giants shoulder made her look a lot taller in comparison though. The girl was staring at the city with her green eyes opened wide in amazement. Nera seemed to feel her gaze on her and turned to look at the demon-powered elf. “So,” Fyanha began, “what do you think of our great city?”
The girl didn’t reply but stared at the city again. She then raised her arm and pointed at the city sprawled on the plain before them. “Why is it so big?” Fyanha laughed. “That’s because it’s the largest city in the world, little one. The grand temple is here, just like the hidden temple. But there is only one God left, so they’re his temples now.” Luno grunted, “We can give you the grand tour later.”


---

In the kingdom of Garalla trouble was brewing. Prince Ragul slammed his fist down on the table. “This cannot be allowed to pass! My people, the people of this nation, they are lost! Ever since our god..” His sentence trailed off, and he stared at the people around the table. The assembled nobles looked at him apprehensively. One of them, a tall lady in one of the traditional blue dresses, looked at him. “My lord, it is not your fault the gods have deserted us.”
The prince looked at her and sighed. “Yes, lady Tinza. You are right, of course. Still, something must be done. Insanity reigns in the streets, terror roams in the night. Did you know not a night passes without families dying?” Lady Tinza nodded. “Yes, my lord. And I find myself in agreement with your statement that something must be done. Moreover, I can help you.” The prince nodded, “The first thing I want to do is stop the people from leaving. The concept of not having a god terrifies them. They’re all crossing the sea to that accursed place. Rasnach, they call it.”
Tinza nodded, “It seems they need a symbol. Tell me your highness, do you think a dragon would be enough?” That caught him off guard. He quickly recovered his composure. “Yes, I think it will be enough. Now, where do we find a dragon? Do you have one in your pocket, Tinza?” Tinza didn’t reply. She was smiling. The prince looked around the room. “Well,” he said, “is there a dragon here?”
Silence. All the nobles were looking around but Ragul noticed that that witch Tinza was still smiling. He sighed. “You know something, lady Tinza?” Her smile grew slightly, “Yes, dear prince.” Then she stepped aside and another figure stepped forward. The figure was clad in an archaic suit of armor, metal plates and chainmail and chains. Ragul stared at the figure. “You’re the dragon?”

Whispers.

Whispers in the void.
Voices in the ‘verse.
The world is recreated.
The sky is reborn.

Noise in the world.
Silent are the woods.
Your race is created.
Your shape is born.

Drums in the deep.
Buzzing in the air.
The man is alive.
The beast is rising.

---

Whispers in the dark.
Voices from the walls.
The ceiling is crawling.
The floor is shifting.

Noise in your mind.
Silent are your screams.
Your voice is gone.
Your chest is hollow.

Drums in the veins.
Buzzing fills the ears.
The heat is rising.
The hand is trembling.

---

Whispers in the chips.
Voices in the boards.
The screens are glowing.
The data is flowing.

Noise in the machines.
Silent are the walls.
Your time is done.
Your task is complete.

Drums in the wilds.
Buzzing in their minds.
The man is free.
The beast is loose.

Noise.

Massive towers and looming arches.
Great spires clawing at overcast skies.
A world filled with hell.
A world where man can live for an hour.
Lungs turning to ashes.
Bones litter the streets.
The fires burn and they keep burning.
A temple, empty and unholy stands, it falls.
All fall down on this world.
The great towers and tall spires collapse.
No reason.
No purpose.
Clouds boil above a wasteland.
Rain falls on barren soil.
Things crawl and life goes on.
The end has come and gone, leaving nothing.
Deep below in caverns still untouched.
The dreamers sleep and dream of perfection.
A cave filled with air.
A place where man can hide away forever.
Void and empty of meaning.
Cells cover the walls.
The thoughts turn, they keep turning.
A city of ghosts stands, it does not fall.
None can leave this place alive.
The caverns stay hidden away forever.
No sorrow.
No death.

---

Listening to noise produces this.

A Gift from Dead Gods, 13.

It was almost dark when the four of them walked into a small town, a collection of houses clustered around a central road and two intersecting streets. The few people in the street quickly gave way to them, casting fearful looks at both the hulking Nathaniel and the metal-clad champion. Nera was looking around curiously, sometimes asking the other elf, Fyanha, questions. “Fyanha, where does that smoke come from?” She pointed. Fyanha looked at the smoke Nera had indicated, “That’s from a fireplace, dear.” “Fire inside a house?” Nera stared in wonder at the houses.
Luno turned his head to look at Fyanha, “We need to find somewhere to stay. Suggestions?” Fyanha shrugged, “Ask one of the villagers.” They stopped. Luno approached a man pushing a cart along, muttering to himself. “You, peasant. Where can we stay for the night?” The man looked up, taking in the armored form of the tall man. He swallowed, “A bit further down this street, milord. Turn right the first chance you get and you should see the inn.” They moved on. “Young people and their bad manners.”, the man muttered under his breath. Nathaniel turned to fix the man with a steady gaze, “Yes?” The man shrank back. Nathaniel smirked as they walked away.
“That wasn’t very nice.” Nera said to the big man. Nathaniel shrugged casually. “We’re bigger, he should mind his manners.” Fyanha laughed at that. They turned right at the next corner and saw the inn. It wasn’t a large building, a single floor with a small stable to the side. A faded sign hung about the door. Luno opened the door, holding it, “Ladies first.” Fyanha and Nera entered, and Luno turned to follow. Then he turned back to look at Nathaniel. He grinned, “I don’t think you’ll fit through the door, Friend. You can stay in the stable.” Nathaniel sighed and nodded.
Inside Fyanha was talking to a bearded man in a dirty apron. “We will have two of your rooms, keeper.” The man nodded, “That’ll be a silver for each room. Would you care for something to eat?” Fyanha took out her purse and paid him, “We’ll eat. Bring us whatever you have. And something to drink.” Luno had walked up to the counter. He grinned at the keeper, “There is a huge man in your stable. You should probably give him some food too.” The keeper looked at him, slightly puzzled. “I’ll see to it.” He turned and walked away, shaking his head in disbelief.
The three of them sat down at a table, awaiting their meals. A serving girl, no older then seventeen came up to them, “What would you like?” After they ordered and had received their drinks Nera sat up slightly. “It’s all very nice to be here, and have my room and meals paid for me, but why? Who are you two anyway?” Fyanha hid a small laugh behind her hand as Luno looked gravely at the young elf. “I am the champion of murder. We are tasked by our God to slay the dryads in this forest.”
At that point the keeper came back inside, a shocked look in his eyes. As he walked over to the table Luno noticed that he was shaking. He smiled at the man, “I see you’ve met our companion.” The man nodded and replied in a small voice. “Yes.. I have strange guests, it seems.” The man walked away and the three of them ate their meal while Luno and Fyanha explained what had happened before they found the two.
Later that night when they had retired to their rooms Luno lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling. The pillow under his head was a nice change. He sighed and rapped his knuckles on the breastplate of his armor. That damned suit of metal, the shell that had caught him. When he was done with these dryads he would go back to the grand temple at Rasnach, find the sisters and ask them some very pointed questions. The Champion sighed again and drifted off to sleep.
He was running. The sky overhead was red, black silhouettes streaked across the skies. He shuddered, he knew those silhouettes. He had faced one of those monsters in his training. The streets he was running through were dirty and devoid of people. Behind him he heard crashing footsteps. Boom, boom, boom, they went. Whatever it was, it was always just out of sight. But so close, too close. He turned a corner and suddenly there was only light. The footsteps were gone and he felt calm. A voice sounded around him, the voice of his God. “Champion, you shall return to my temple now.” Luno looked around but saw nothing, just that light all around. “My lord,” he replied, “there are still dryads in the woods. My task is not yet done.” Laughter. “The giant and the lifestealer are with you, are they not?” Giant? Yes, Nathaniel. Lifestealer? The little elf girl who had so casually drained that dryad? “You understand. Come back to the temple.”
The next morning as they were leaving the village, an old man dressed in dirty rags stumbled into their path. He leaned on the stick he carried and raised his other thin arm to point at Luno. “Murderer!”, he cried. “Murderer!” Luno laughed, “Is this about my God?” The man was jumping up and down. “You’re the murderer!”, he screeched. Luno looked at him, his face expressionless. “The Lord of Blades is not an evil god. His servants murder, sure. Assassins pray to him. Even some common cutthroats seek his blessing. He reigns by terror. You call him evil? That would be a mistake, neighbour. He’s protecting you. From what? You don’t want to know.”
“Murderer!”, the man screamed again. Luno sighed and drew one of his swords. He pointed it at the haggard old man. “Will that be your last word?”, he said while a faint smile touched his lips. The man nodded and began to say something. The words never left his mouth, but his head did leave his body. Luno wiped his sword on the mans dirty rags and sheathed it. He turned, “Shall we leave? We will go back to the city.” “Just a moment, Luno.”, Fyanha said, as she picked up the mans head and put it on top of his body. Then she waved her hand at the corpse, which started burning. She smiled at Luno. “Now we can go.”
Behind them, Nera sat on Nathaniels huge shoulder. Her little brow was furrowed slightly. “What’s a city?”

The warning.

He’d given the order. They had found a way to hurt the great machine. His so called “family”. When they’d found out about it, assassins had been dispatched to kill certain members of this family. He sighed as he contemplated his mistake. The machine hadn’t been in time to save all his children, but most had survived. Now, he had to talk to it.
As he walked into the room, he reflected on the situation. The machine had arisen several years before. It had grown steadily, taking over whole ranges of uninhabited mountains. It brought messages of peace, calling to those who agreed with its message. Many joined, most kept their distance. In the end, the leaders of what they called the free world had decided to do something against the machine, some way to make it clear they were in control.
He sat down. Time to face the consequences of that lapse of judgement. The machine wasn’t present, of course, but one of the screens was active, showing the semblance of a face.
It did not move, but it spoke a single word: “Why?” The leaders of the free world looked at eachother, then turned to the last one to enter. He stood up and started pacing, “We were only trying to do what is best for our people.” “So I am a threat?”, the machine replied. The face smiled slightly, “I will say this once. Listen carefully.”


The message started.

There are people who agree with me. And of course, those who disagree. I will protect those who agree with me and choose to live in my nation. Those who disagree are not welcome here but I will not harm them if they do not harm those who follow me.
Be aware that if I had wanted the world, I would have taken it. My body stretches across mountains, my eye sees everything. My fists are many. Nuclear weapons will not end me. I do not breathe. There is nothing you could do to stop me if I wished to destroy you all. Do not force me to do so.
Let those in your nations who agree with me join us freely. Do not attack our nation or any of our interests. You can fight your little wars between yourselves, we will take no side. We will, however, protect that which is ours. Attack us and prepare to see oblivion.

We see everything.
You can’t kill that which doesn’t live.

That should have been the end of it. It wasn’t.

The nations of the ‘free world’decided to attack, attempting to overwhelm the defences of the machine. They had not counted on endless seas of machine-controlled tanks and other automated weapons of war. There was nothing they could do. The machines followed them back and cut them down mercilessly. They were beyond organisation. A single mind controlled every weapon of war.

The war did not destroy all of the ‘free world’, however. When all armies had been destroyed however, the machines turned back and left as quickly as they came. Every machine that had fallen was recovered. Later that year, machine workers were repairing buildings, roads and even replanting forests.

Around that time, a message came to the leaders of the ‘free world’.

-Do not let it happen again.-


---

Something a bit.. different, I guess.
I'd like opinions, comments.
And thank you for reading.

A Gift from Dead Gods, 12.

Fyanha looked at the huge man, her eyebrow rising, “You call me sorceress. How do you know?” Nathaniel laughed, a loud booming laugh. Then he smiled at her, “You throw magic around like it’s nothing, yet you don’t gather it. Your power comes from somewhere else, so..” Luno shrugged and turned away, “I will get our packs, you handle these people.” Fyanha nodded, then fixed the two still standing on the treetrunk with a cold stare. “Begin by telling me who you are, and why you are here.”
“As I said, I am Nathaniel. Formerly a master thief and a former sorceror. This is-” “Former sorceror?”, Fyanha interupted. He nodded, “Yes. Do you think this is the shape of a master thief? Mages captured me, changed me. I’m a lot stronger and faster now, but I want my magic back.” He sighed and Fyanha nodded, her gaze softening. “As I was saying, this is Nera, one of the elves studying here from the dryads.” He picked her off his shoulder and put her on the treetrunk, then jumped off. Fyanha looked at Nera, “You’re a druid then? Why were you in there?” Nera looked at her, eyes questioning. Still, she said nothing. Fyanha frowned and ignited her hand, “You want to start talking, druid. I can send you to the same place as your masters without a second thought.”
The tiny elf giggled, “I don’t think they’d like that very much. See, I was sent here because the elders of my village thought I had potential.” Fyanha nodded, “Go on.” “Well, my ‘potential’ came from my gift, not any bond with nature like the dryads have.” The girl climbed down from the trunk, “Do you want me to show you?” Interested, Fyanha followed the other elf girl. Nera closed her eyes and spread her arms. She started grinning and opened her eyes, “You left a dryad alive.. Good.”
Luno chose that time to come back, their packs slung over his armored shoulders. “Alive?” He dropped the packs and grabbed one of his swords. “Where?” Fyanha shook her head at him and gestured that he should follow. He shrugged and put away his sword. Nera had found her dryad and dropped to her haunches near her head, extending her hands. “Now my dear, this will hurt.” She placed her palms at the temples of the dryad.
The dryad whimpered, trying with all the power she had left to crawl away, as if Nera's hands burned her. The tiny elf was still grinning, “Don’t try to escape. Soon it’ll be over.” Slowly the dryads movements became less focused. She seemed to be rotting quickly. Green light flowed around her temples, swirling around the elven hands on her temples and draining away into the elf. With a final cry, the dryad stopped moving and the lights died away.
Nera turned to face them. “See? That’s why dryads don’t like me.” Nathaniel had stood watching, wide-eyed. “You told me you were in there because you misbehaved!” Nera shrugged, “Okay, so I misbehaved two young dryads into non-sentience.” Fyanha was grinning widely at the younger elf. She turned to Luno, “Champion, I like her. Can we keep her?”

A Gift from Dead Gods, 11.

Nathaniel woke up in what looked like the inside of a tree. He sat up on his haunches and looked around. Some light shone in from high overhead, but he couldn’t find from where exactly. He turned quickly when he heard something move behind him. A slender elf girl smiled weakly at him. “Please don’t hurt me.” Nathaniel sighed and smiled back at her, “I’m not going to hurt you. Who are you, and why are you here?”

---

The wards had been silent all night. Luno stood watching the dawn, his swords held tight in his armored hands. He heard Fyanha move and he turned to look at her. Her long dark red hair was messy from sleeping on the ground. She opened her eyes slowly and yawned. She smiled as she looked at him, “Good morning, Champion. I see you are ready to kill?” He grinned back at her, “I am. I hope you are too.” Getting up, she straightened out her dress and slipped on her boots. “Just some breakfast, and we’ll be off.”
The champion and the sorceress stood at the edge of the forest, their heads bowed. Luno chanted a quiet prayer to the Lord of Blades. When it was done, they set off. Their progress was slow at first as they picked their way through the forest carefully. As they got further into the forest, they picked up the pace. Finally they came unto a clearing, circles of chanting dryads dancing around. When they spotted the invaders, they screamed in unison, the trees around the clearing closing the gaps between them with their branches. Luno raised his longsword, pointing it at the dryads. He raised his voice, “Hear me, dryads! I am the Champion of Murder! Your time upon this world ends here!”
The tallest of the dryads, their leader Luno guessed, stepped forward. “Champion of.. Murder. You disrupt the natural order of things. You and your pet demon shall not leave this place.” Fyanha laughed. “Pet demon, dryad? I am no pet, and we shall leave.. After you are all dead!” Luno looked for a moment as the small girl lifted into the air, black markings appearing all over her skin. Her usually red eyes glowed with an inner fire. She grinned at Luno for a second, “Kill, champion. Do you duty!” With that, she hovered away towards the center of the clearing, hurling fireballs left and right.
Luno charged, his blood rising. Vines gripped him from the ground, but he stomped on. His swords sang a deadly song as he rampaged across the clearing. Dryads screamed everywhere, their wooden skin on fire, their limbs hacked off. Luno laughed as he charged another dryad, smashing through the wooden growths she erected in his path. His armored shoulder connected and the dryad was hurled through the air.
A great roar came from beyond the trees, and some trees opened their branches. Hulking figures appeared, their steps heavy. “Males!”, Fyanha called. “Champion, I will finish these wretches, kill the warriors!” Luno nodded and advanced on the male dryads, the warriors of the woods. His stance was wide, blades held low. The charge of the warriors thundered across the grass.
Luno focussed his thoughts, gathered the energy he felt around him. Between the killing done in this place and Fyanha hurling magic fire around, a lot of background power had built up. When the warriors were a few steps away, he released his spell and shot forwards like a cannonball. His armored form tore through the first dryad, his blades impaling the second. The kills rushed through his veins, throbbed in his head. Another warrior fell, another throb, the rush of the kill, a red fog enveloping him.
The next thing Luno knew was Fyanha yelling. “Champion, what are you doing?” He stopped and looked around him. The warriors lay around him, their limbs hacked off, their bodies broken. His helmet was embedded in the chest of one of them. He took a step back, and the tree he had been hacking at toppled over, smashing into the ground. Fyanha climbed on top of it, walking along its length to stand besides him. She looked at him, her gaze questioning. “Champion, what were you doing? You howled and screamed like you were insane. You did kill them all though.. I am impressed.”
Luno shrugged. “I cast a spell, one of the spells Irune taught me. I felt the kills, and I.. I don’t remember.” Stepping over to one of the bodies, he pulled out his helmet. The corpse twitched, and he quickly stabbed it. “Well, we’re done here. We go back to the city?” Fyanha shook her head. “No, champion. Deeper into the forest more dryads dwell. We should probably find a village nearby first, find some supplies and a place to stay.” She turned, her hands afire. “Whoever you are, I hear you. Show yourself!”
From the trunk of the tree Luno had hacked apart, a giant figure pulled himself into the light. He was smiling, “Can’t hide this time, can I?” He turned and sank to his knee, pulling a girl out into the light as well. Putting her on his massive shoulder, he looked at Luno and Fyanha. “Champion of murder, Sorceress.. I am Nathaniel. This,” he inclined his head towards the girl, “is Nera. I suppose we should thank you for freeing us.”

A Gift from Dead Gods, 10.

“Show yourself!”, Luno shouted. No answer came. For several minutes, Fyanha and Luno looked around searching for the owner of that voice. Finally, Luno laid down his blades and sat down. He shook his head, “Coward.” Fyanha shrugged and sat down across the fire from him. “What he said was true though, champion.” She smiled. “Now we should rest. We have a lot of killing to do in the morning.” Luno nodded, “I’ll set some wards, in case that coward returns.” She smiled at him and laid down, pulling a blanket from her pack. “Good night, champion of murder.”

---

Nathaniel ran through the forest to where he had left the gear he had stolen from a store in Adnar. Although he was over twice the size he used to be, he was still a thief. He hadn’t found any armor that would fit, so he had taken only food, water and some clothes, which he barely fit into. He still prefered it to running around completely exposed. On his way to the forest, he had stopped by a small farm, taking some of the more vicious farming equipment. If he had to use weapons, he could at least used weapons which were more his size.
When he reached the rocky hill he had left his messy pile of things, he stopped and crouched. Listening for a moment, he concluded the area was clear. He jumped on top of the hill, rummaging through the pile and picking out some fruit. He sat down and looked at the row of tools he had laid out. He had to attack tonight. If that champion of murder and the demon-girl attacked, they wouldn’t leave any dryads for him to interrogate. Picking up a sturdy looking pitchfork, he ran off towards the clearing where the dryads gathered.
As he entered the clearing he stopped. It was empty, the dryads weren’t there. “Hello, Nathaniel,” said a voice behind him. He turned and stared at the black-robed figure. “You,” he growled. “You’re the one who changed me.” The man threw back his hood and smiled. His skin was pale and his features sunken. His head was devoid of hair, except for a thin strip of hair on the side. He was smiling. “No, Nathaniel. That was my brother. Now, sleep.”
A familiar blackness filled Nathaniels head and he fell to his knees. He shook his head to shake of the veil and charged at the man, roaring ferociously. The man staggered backwards, “No! No! You must sleep, Nathaniel!” Nathaniel felt the darkness grasping at him, but it didn’t seem to hold. He grinned and roared again, the distance closing quickly. From behind a tree stepped another figure in black and before he could respond, the figure threw a bolt of lighting which caught him on the shoulder, his momentum hurling him to the forest floor.
When Nathaniel looked up, the men were gone. He had been so close. He stood up. Before he could turn, two sets of arms grabbed him. A soft voice came from just behind him, “Look what we’ve found.. A thief. Now, Nathaniel, it’s time for you to sleep.” He laughed, “Those sorcerors tried that too, it didn’t-“ His sentence was cut short by a hard blow to the head, and he fell into unconsiousness.

A Gift for Dead Gods, 9.

Back in the great city of Rasnach, trouble was brewing. Irune, one of the high priestesses of the Lord of Blades stared from her tower standing at the edge of the temple. Somewhere in that great, stinking pit of a city her sister danced amongst the shadows. The god of murder demanded blood to be spilled, and they obeyed. Ilane had always been her superior in the ways of the blade, Irune had to admit. She raised her skeletal hand and began weaving her spell. She grinned.
It had been a terrible day for Por, he told himself. Stumbling through the alleys he paused, leaning against the wall. Too much ale, he decided. He heard something behind him, and he turned. An empty alley stared back at him. He shrugged and turned back the way he was heading. He never noticed the woman stepping from the darkness, her dagger sinking into his eye. As he fell, she wiped her knife on his shirt and put it away in the same motion. Ilane spoke a few ritual words of murder, then turned and ran back to the palace. As she ran, she started grinning.
Somewhere, deep inside the ruins of Garnack stood the court of the Lord of Blades. The ruins were one of the most dangerous places in the known world. If one were to try and find the court, one would have to travel to the ruins, and survive long enough in the ruins to locate the temple. Ferocious creatures roamed there, preying upon one another and on all magical energy they could find.
The court was in attendence. On one side of the huge throne hovered five skeletal liches, dark robes draped around their bones. From within their empty sockets a cold light shone. Opposite these undead sorcerors were five shades, creatures of solid shadow. These deathless watchers stood along the path that led to the enormous throne that held the physical shell of the Lord of Blades.
Upon the throne sat the Lord in his massive glory. This form was his true form, not the armors which sat on thrones in his temples to be animated by his projected mind, this shell contained the essence and conciousness of the god. While the armor was the same, it was almost twice as big as the armors in the temples, and unlike those empty husks, this armor was filled by a shifting mass of metal. Near the centre of the hall, two figures knelt.
The lich closest to the throne turned towards the kneeling figures. A hollow, monotone and echoing voice spoke, and the light in its eyes flared. “No mortal being has stood in these halls for ages. Be wary, mortals. We are no friends.” A shade, slightly darker then its companions, drifted forwards. From inside the coiling shadows, a vague face appeared. “My friend speaks truth, mortal. Speak no ill of us here or anywhere. We can always find you.” A grating laugh came from the god, and all those in the hall turned to watch the god.
“My servants are right, mortals. You have my protection for the moment, but you must continue to serve.” As he stood up, he waved his enormous arms, indicating the shades and liches. “My servants, my high priests and priestesses. They are my eternal companions, even in death.” Towering over the kneeling figures, he continued in a voice like grating metal, “Tell me, mortals. Why are you here?”
Trembling, the figure on the right spoke. Despite his trembling, his voice was steady. “We are here to warn you, divine one. Your champion is about to meet one of our.. Less stable experiments.” The god turned and returned to the throne. “You presume to warn me, Olivex? You, the imprisoned one?” Once more, he laughed. “I know of your ‘experiment’. The mage-thief, the changed one. You are wrong on two fronts. First, you do not warn me. Second, he is not your experiment any more, mage. He is mine. Now I shall warn you, do not enter these halls again. It is time for you to leave.”
As the two figures stood up and had bowed to the throne, they turned and made their way to the doors at the other end of the hall. The voice of the god thundered after them, “Caphis, keep your unruly brother in line. There is a reason the gods imprisoned him but not you. Now begone!”

A Gift from Dead Gods, 8.

Luno was furious. “Why was I not told? This gift of theirs! A wonderful, amazing suit of armor!” Fyanha shrugged. “Look, that’s the sisters for you. Every blessing is a curse. And you should be happy that armor cleans itself. If it didn’t, you’d be on your own.” He sat down, hanging his head. “But why? Why would they give me armor that doesn’t come off? Will I have to wear it forever?”
It was dark, and they were sitting at a campfire Fyanha had created. After the foiled ambush earlier in the day they had walked on, closer to the forests. As night fell, Luno had tried to take off his armor. He had failed. The armor was sealed shut, trapping him inside.
Fyanha stood up, walking around the fire. “Look, champion. You can ask the sisters about the armor when we get back to the Artok. Or maybe the Lord?” She grinned. “Of course, this might all be part of His great plan.” Luno stared at her, then started shaking his head. “Let us just let it rest. We should rest too. Tomorrow we could make it to the edge of the forest, and prepare.” She nodded and curled up next to the fire.
Sighing, Luno stared at the sky.

The next evening, they reached the edge of the forests. Fyanha turned. “We are close to our destination now. Can you set up some magical wards?” She grinned and continued, “I smell fresh food.” Luno nodded, and she ran off into the nearby trees. He sighed and started gathering wood for the fire. Even magical fire needed a fuel source to keep burning.
Later that night, as they were eating whatever it was Fyanha had caught. She’d brought it back already nearly burned, and as good as done. “Tell me, champion. Do we have a plan?” Luno started grinning. “We are on their grounds, without any knowledge. We have their unwillingness to kill as an advantage. They say no plan survives contact with the enemy. My plan is making our enemies not survive contact with us.”
“Spoken like a true Champion of Murder.”, said a voice. Fyanha jumped up, fire surrounding her hands. Luno pulled his swords as he stood up. “Who dares adress us without showing himself?”

Utopia.

“Utopia”, they called it. In a way, they are correct. This place suits humans perfectly. The strongest impose their will, the weakest feed on their trash. Laws have long since evaporated. Only tyrants rule. The machines grow, feed, harvest us. Terra is a long-lost place of legends and folk tales. We don’t remember what they called this place in the old days. It must have had a name, but it is lost to us. They call it home. I named it hell.
I think I used to be a criminal, in those other days. I vaguely remember trees, parks. Or maybe I was an idealist. Whatever I was, I am but a shadow of what I once was. All of us here, shades in the dark. No way off this shithole of a planet, only a way in. A machine named Sweep controls the spaceport. With it comes the only official medical facility here. Been there once, when I lost my arms. Had to work off the debt, but it was worth it.
Knocking on the door. A voice yelling. I seal my suit, and turn around. Door gets blasted to pieces. Screaming from across the hall. Raid. Three of them run in, pointing their guns at me. One of them tells me to put up my arms. Same voice as the yelling, must be their leader. I put up my arms, no sense resisting. Curious about what they want. There is nothing here but me.
Three hours later, I am sitting in a small room. They’ve taken my suit, even my arms. Removed the lenses from my right eye. Half-blind and unarmed I wait for them to tell me what they want. A young woman enters. Her long hair is black, I can see the datawires hanging from her temples. Heavy cybernetics on her left side. Good quality, probably servant of a machine. Her voice is a monotone, soft and unnerving. She tells me I will do as she says or die. I have accepted her offer.

---

I haven't written anything for a while. It's not flowing.
This came up, and it's something.
Should I continue this?

This would turn into a dystopian cyberpunkish story.

A Gift from Dead Gods, 7.

Luno and Fyanha left the city quietly. Although the priest had cheered them on, the common folk of the city parted silently, frightened. The guards at the city gate saluted Luno, and bowed slightly for Fyanha. At first they walked in silence, until Fyanha had had enough. “So.. Tell me, oh great champion, what do you know of the dryads?” Luno shrugged, a gesture which looked awkward in the huge suit of armor. “Not much.”, he admitted. “Do you?”
Fyanha smiled. “As an elf, I was raised alongside a few. The elvish race is very attuned to nature.” She started grinning. “I don’t like them much.” Luno chuckled, “I bet they don’t like you that much either.” Nodding, Fyanha replied. “Not really. Burned down a few trees, set fire to some elders. That sort of thing.” Luno laughed at this. “I’m beginning to like you. Tell me about the dryads.”
“Where to begin..” Fyanha began. “Well, a dryad will never kill a living being. Nature must take its course, that sort of thing.” She shook her head, “Don’t think they are merciful though. I’ve seen what happens to those who cross the dryads. Eternal life may sound appealing, but eternal life being part of a sentient tree, unable to move, talk.. No, thanks.”
Luno shook his head, “That doesn’t sound right to me. No killing, that must be why the Lord wants them dead.” Fyanha nodded, “That is one of the reasons. As the god of murder, it is his purpose to desire the death of every living thing. Any other goals he might have, none of us mortals know.”
Taking off his helmet again, Luno looked at her. “Tell me about yourself. Why are you here? And how come you didn’t burned when you pulled that little trick earlier?” Fyanha laughed. “You’re quite direct, champion. Therefor you shall get a direct anwser. My mother was a fire demon shapeshifted into an elf. I am an elf, yet my essence is that of a demon.” She grinned, “That’s why I’m immune to fire. As for these clothes..”, she indicated her dress, “they’re enchanted.”
They walked on for another few uneventful hours. As the sun was setting, they walked past a ruined shrine, once a temple for the traveler god. Someone called from behind it, “You made a mistake traveling without guards! Leave all your possessions behind, and you can go on in peace!” Fyanha raised an eyebrow and smiled, Luno drew his swords. They stopped. The man came into view, as did seven others. “Alright, your mistake! Now we’ll kill you and-“ He stopped mid-sentence as he saw who he had threatened.
He hesitated, as did his friends who took a step back. It wasn’t everyday you tried to rob someone who looked like the god of murder. “Err, as I was saying..” He stumbled slightly. Fyanha didn’t give him a chance to go on, smiling sweetly at him. “Don’t worry, I’m sure we can come to an arrangement. She gave a small hand signal to Luno, indicating he should get the ones to their left. Luno nodded. Creating a fireball in her left hand, she extended her right arm towards the would-be robber. “Now, don’t be afraid.” She took a step forwards. “This will only hurt for a moment.”
Caressing his face with her hand, she continued to smile. The robber tried to speak, but couldn’t find the words. He opened, then closed his mouth again. Fyanha grinned, and shoved the fireball into his face. This was Luno’s cue, and he charged shoulder-first into the closest of their assailants. He heard bones snap. Deflecting a desperate swing from an axe with his longsword, he cut of the mans head with single stroke of the shortsword.
He turned his head towards the two men who stood before him. They stared at him, looked at eachother. He could see the terror in their eyes. Wisely, they turned and ran, leaving their weapons. Luno turned just in time to see an orc swing a heavy warhammer in his direction. Unable to avoid the blow, it smashed into his side. His armor dented, and he felt pain. Nothing a little magic wouldn’t fix, he thought. He retaliated by impaling the orc on his swords. As the orc slid off his blades, he looked around. He smiled. Fyanha was poking at one of the burnt corpses at her feet. She turned towards him. “I hope the dryads are more fun..”

---

Lots of dialogue, and some action. First time I actually wrote a fight scene, I think. So I guess you should all just tell me what you thought of it.

Also, Fyanha is really.. 'Nice', isn't she?

A Gift from Dead Gods, 6.

There seemed to be no way out of this hellhole of a cave system. Nathaniel hadn’t found any traces of human life either. He remembered blacking out, but nothing else. They’d changed him.. Finally, he saw some light filtering in through a waterfall. He’d found an exit.
Edging along the small path was a lot harder now, his large limbs still new. Suddenly, the path ended, and he looked down. It was a long drop, but going back into those caves didn’t appeal to him either. He closed his eyes and focused his mind, a slowfall charm was all he needed. He jumped and knew something was wrong. No slowfall charm. Well, he thought, time to see how much this body can take.
It was a long drop. Hitting the water barely hurt, a fact for which he was thankful. Whatever they had done to him, he wouldn’t have survived without it. At least, he wouldn’t have survived without the slowfall charm. As he clambered up onto the shore, he wondered why it hadn’t worked. He tried channelling fire through his hands, the same spell he had used to break into the museum. Nothing.
He had tried every spell he had once been taught. None of them worked. With every spell that failed, his frustration and his anger grew. Finally, he roared towards the heavens, and slammed his fist into a tree, which broke in two. His anger still not spent, he grabbed the fallen tree and swung it in a wide arc, hurling it across the lake.
This caused him to pause for a moment. He looked at his arms, and slowly started grinning. Although he was still angry about losing his magic, this strength was beyond what he had been capable of before, even if he used his spells. He examined his new body. The first thing that stood out was that his skin had turned into a dark grey. His arms had grown huge, as had the rest of him. His legs had turned into the legs of an animal, as he now walked on his toes. He decided to test how fast he could run.
After a few hours, he reached the edge of a small town he recognised as Adnar, 4 days from Rasnach. That meant that waterfall had to be the falls of spring. When he had calculated how fast he had run, he sat down. Nearly twice as fast, he mused. He resolved to find the people who had done this to him. First, he would thank them. Then he’d rip off their heads. All he had to go by was the dryad though, and that meant the Artok forests.

Suits: 1.

“Is it dead?” I asked. The anwser was the discharge of a railgun, and the things head exploding. Faceless turned to me, “Yes.” before continuing down the tunnel. Brute chuckled, following our leader. I shrugged and followed them, making my way over the ceiling. The three of us were investigating a report about an out of control mutant in a part of the sewers.
Don’t get me wrong, I have nothing against those who choose biological change over augmentation, but sometimes these people forget they are human. Obviously, this happened to the augmented as well, but at least they usually decided they wanted to be integrated into something useful, like a factory or even a tank. No matter, it gave us a job.
“Claws, opening ahead.” With a thought, I acknowledged. That was my job, surveilance, and if we found something hostile, I could easily kill it without anything else noticing. I crept across the ceiling, and over the lip into the cavern. As I reached the top of the cavern, I released my hands from the ceiling, hanging from my feet.
Each of us had their own, specialised suit. Faceless had his (or hers, we weren’t sure) standard, without identification marks. Or any kind of mark. What set it apart was that his left arm had no hand, but was a railgun from the elbow down. I wondered how much of it was still human. Brute was, as his name implies, brutish. A massive suit of armor, lots of power in there. Lots of weapons, too. Mine was designed to be elegant. Claws on both hands and feet, giving me great mobility. All I had for weapons were shock-prods on my wrists, and obviously my claws.
“Nothing here, there are tracks though.” I dropped from the ceiling, landing on all fours. Walking on claws is hard. Brute entered, followed by Faceless. Something stirred in the darkness, and heavy footsteps came our way. Brute put himself between us and it. “Looks like you were wrong, darling.” I knew he was grinning in his suit, he loved this part. Then we saw it, and even Brute took a step back.
These days, being altered was easy. All you needed was money, and if you had none, there were other ways. The army was a good one, since they always needed more soldiers, be they augmented or mutants. After a few years of service, upon your discharge, you could get an alteration again, making you more suitable for civilian life. Of course, those with extreme alterations usually didn’t leave, it’s hard being a civilian when you’ve been a predator for years. And of course there were those like us, who took on the special missions.
It was a spawner. Mutants so far gone, their offspring wasn’t even human. “It’s a female sir, not all gone. The spawn are though, so it’s mate has lost it.” Faceless nodded, “Kill the spawn, but keep the female for interrogation. Brute, do not engage, wait for the mate.”

---

Sci-Fi, to break up the fantasy.
A little background is perhaps in order.

Humanity now consists of the normals, and the altered. The altered are again divided between the mutants and the augmented. Augmented are mechanically enhanced humans, while mutants are, as their name implies, mutated nearly beyond humanity.

Sorry if this sounds bad or anything, but I would like to ask anyone who has read this to leave a comment. I want to know who, if anyone, reads my stories.

A Gift from Dead Gods, 5.

Finally, the day had come. Luno wore his ceremonial robes of the priesthood with pride as he marched into the temple. As he had expected, the Lord was waiting, as were the sisters. The god spoke first, “Ah, Luno.. How long has it been, when you stood here, amongst the masses, not knowing what you would become? Look at you now, a full warrior. Today, I pronounce you as my champion!”
Luno nodded, “As my Lord commands.” The sisters grinned and the one on the left, whom he had come to know as Ilane, nodded. “An obedient champion, my Lord. Do we honor him with the gifts?” The god nodded his armored head. The other sister, Irune, who had further decayed in the years that had passed, waved a skeletal hand and a group of guards carrying a heavy chest came into the hall.
Ilane opened the chest, pulling out a helmet. Luno noticed it looked a lot like the armor the Lord used to be present. Irune smiled at him, “This is our gift to you, Champion. Let no man, woman or beast doubt the power you wield!” He bowed his head as he accepted the helmet. “Thank you, sister.” The sisters bowed, turned and left the hall. He was alone with the Lord. “My champion, you have grown. No longer are you as young as you were when we met.”
“You have said you were at my command. Thus, I command you to go to the forest of Artok, to the north. There you will find a host of dryads. As the god of murder I bid you, destroy them all. A mage will accompany you.” The Lord of Blades turned and headed for his throne, where he sat down. “You will leave in two days. Finish your business here, then come to the plaza at dawn, wearing your new armor. She will find you.” Luno bowed, turned and left the hall.
In those two days, Luno went around the city, saying farewell to all those he had met in the last years. Finally, he came to the house of the man where he had lived, before moving into the temple proper. He still visited here often, the old man had turned into a reliable, if talkative friend. Before he had knocked on the door, the man opened. “Hello, good to see you! You’re quite the talk of the town, you know. Yes, everyone is talking about the new champion, and I wondered if it would be you. Well, do come in!”
When the two days had passed, Luno put on his new suit of armor. As a note in the chest had explained, the armor was enchanted. It could repair and clean itself, and the pieces locked together to form an almost impenatrable shell. As he began putting it on, the plates, joints and undersuit clicked together the way they were meant to do. He noticed several cleverly placed plates which he found he could open using a little magic burst. Finally, he wrapped a cloak around his armored shoulders, and headed for the plaza.
It was just before dawn, and the streets of Rasnach were quiet. Those few people he passed stared in awe as he walked by. Inside the suit, Luno grinned. He had certainly come far from where he started. The plaza was packed with priests, he noticed. They parted, bowing to him as he passed. Finally, he came to the entrance of the temple, and on the steps stood an elf girl. She smiled at him and jumped down to stand before him. “So.. you’re the champion. I hope you’re as strong as you look, we have a lot of killing to do.”
Luno took off his helmet, and held it under his arm. He looked her over, and grinned. “I hope you’re stronger then you look, because all I see is a small elf girl, without armor or weapons.” She anwsered by lifting into the air, fire streaming from her eyes and hands. In seconds, she was covered in flames. She tilted her head, “My name is Fyanha. I have no need for such things.” Luno nodded, “Agreed.”
As the flames went out and Fyanha landed gracefully, a priest threw himself on his knees before them. “Champion, we of the priesthood present you with a final gift!” Two priests came forwards, one bearing a longsword, the other a matching shortsword. “Please, accept our gifts, oh great champion!” Luno put his helmet back on, and accepted the swords. “Thank you, priest. I accept your gift.” He turned to Fyanha and smiled. “Shall we leave?”

Random short stories.

All she wanted to do was dance. Dance on her toes. Twirling around on the roof, not seeing where she goes. Her blindfold blocks out the world. She never falls down, something greater guides her steps as she moves across the roof.
Tired. She is so tired, but she never stops. The dance goes on, and on. Never stopping, not for a moment, she dances here. Is she waiting for something, or someone? No one knows. All that is known, is that she is always there, dancing on that roof, blindfold always on.

---

He remembered what it was like, in the old days. People were everywhere back then. He smiled as he stared across the quiet landscape, thinking about the ones who had filled his life with joy, back then. Now, the world was silent.
How it had happened, he never knew. All he knew was that in all this time, he hadn’t met anyone besides himself. They were all dead. Sometimes he longed for a goal, a purpose. No such illusions surrounded him anymore.
There he stood, alone. The wind carried the scents of a patch of beautiful flowers. They brought him happiness, these days.

---

Never never never. He said it again and again. Never never never would they catch him. He couldn’t let them. Never never never would they learn what he had learned. What they could do with the knowledge, if they got their hands on it. Never never never would he allow that to happen.
He couldn’t die, that would just make it easier for them. Never never never die. He shook his head in frustration, why couldn’t they just let him go? Never never never give up, he reminded himself.

---



These were some things I wrote up. What do you think?

A Gift from Dead Gods, 4.

“So, here you are..” said the god. “You’re taller then I expected you to be.” Luno shrugged, what was he to say? He just smiled. The woman on the left took off her hood, and Luno took an involuntary step back. The lower right side of her face was half-rotten off. She smiled at him, “Do not be afraid. One can get hurt in the service of the Lord, but He has necromancers amongst his servants.”
“We are the ones known as the sisters of suffering, and we are the high priests of our Lord.” The other woman took of her hood as well, and nodded, “My sister lost part of her mortal shell in His service, and thus she has been blessed with partial unlife.”
The god held out his hand to Luno, “I invite you now to join my priesthood. Would you accept?” Luno shrugged, “Will I have to run around like an idiot, herding those people out there?” A grating laugh sounded from within the armour. “Only if you choose that path. There are other things one can do in my name. Does the path of the warrior attract you?”
And so Luno joined the priesthood of the Lord of Blades. For years, he trained in the closed off areas of the temple, honing his skills and muscles. He trained in the ways of the sword, in the ways of the axe, and in the ways of the dagger in the night. He was taught the basic skills of magic, and the stillness of mind required for battle. He was conditioned to go without sleep for days, and spent time in a woodland temple where he learned to live off the land.

---

Nathaniel opened his eyes and looked around. Everything around him was dark. He could hear water falling from the ceiling, so he was in a cave. How long had he been out? It had to be quite a while, his body felt weird. He shook his head, and his vision came back to him. A darksight spell? He couldn’t remember casting it. At least now he could explore, and figure out what had happened.
He fell over as he took his first step. That wasn’t meant to happen. He stood up, then nearly fell over again as he saw his body. His hands.. Those weren’t his hands. And his legs had grown, stretched, like the legs of an animal. Standing up to his full height, he estimated he was nearly 4 metres tall. He shook his head again. He had to get out of here.

A gift from dead gods, 3.

The temple was a magnificent structure. It dwarfed and overwhelmed any other structure surrounding the large plaza. Luno looked around, noting the priests running all over the place, trying to control the masses of people swarming around. One of the priests bumped into him, “Oh dear, oh dear! Sorry sir!” The priest tried to move on, but he grabbed his arm.
“Hold on a moment. Why are there so many people here?” The priest gave him a dumbfounded look. “Ya mean, ya don’t know? This is the temple of the Lord of Blades, the only god who still anwsers!” Luno nodded, and the priest hurried on. The world had gone crazy when the gods stopped anwsering to their followers all those years ago. There was only one now, and Luno wondered if this was a good thing or not.
Making his way through the crowd, Luno joined the masses pouring into the temple. He decided he’d picked a bad time to go here. Nevertheless, the masses carried him on, and into the temple proper. After being jostled around for a while, the masses had finally all entered the temple. Luno looked around. Almost a thousand people filled the hall, the exits at the back guarded by guards in full suits of armour, and several guards around the elevation at the very end of the hall. On the elevation were two pulpits, and behind them a throne with a large, seemingly empty suit of armor. Luno recoiled slightly as he recognised it from the dream he’d had as a boy.
The guards at both entrances parted, and two women clad in black robes walked in. The crowd fell silent, and Luno stared from one woman to the other. Nothing besides their gender was visible beneath their hoods. They reached the pulpits, and one bowed her head. The other spread her arms wide. “People of Rasnach, you are gathered here today, as all days, in the precence of our Lord.” The masses responded, “We are.” “As all days, we chant to our Lord.” “Our Lord guides us.” A light sparked in the armour. The women turned, “Our Lord blesses us with his divine presence today!”
The Lord of Blades stood up from his throne, a harsh light glaring from within the armour. “Amongst you is a man, who has seen me in his dreams. After the service, this man shall stay here.” After the service ended, Luno found he had no choice but to stay. As much as he wanted, he couldn’t make himself leave. Soon, the grand hall was empty, and he swallowed as the god approached him, followed by the two women.

---

Nathaniel reached his destination shortly after sunset. It wasn’t too dark yet, and the villagers had already lit their fires. He greeted the people he passed along the way, heading for the centre of the village, the place he’d meet his employer. He’d have to travel a while before finding a place to sleep though, that kind of this was hard in this town. As soon as he came near the agreed place, he knew somethings was wrong.
Dryads never left the forests. So what was she doing here? And who was that man? The dryad was smiling, “Hello Nathaniel. There have been.. Complications.” The man raised his hand, and he felt the world fade away.

A gift from dead gods, 2.

The morning had gone, and the sun was up in the sky, sending its heat and light down on everyone. Luno adjusted the pack on his back, sweating in his clothes. After 3 days of walking across the land, he’d finally reached his destination, the great city of Rasnach. It was nothing like his home town of Rorr. He smiled, things had to be better here.
He thought back to the beggar he had given some coins this morning, thinking how something about the mans eyes had told him he wasn’t a beggar. But then again, it was none of his business. As he looked about, he noticed a certain panic in everyones eyes. He stopped a man, asking, “Sir, what is going on?” The man blinked and stared at him in disbelief. “You don’t know? Someone destroyed the museum! Everything, gone!” Luno nodded, “Hm, why would anyone do that?” The man shrugged, “They think it was a political thing, so..” He shrugged. Luno thanked him and the man walked away.
Well, seems like this place was definitely different then Rorr. He smiled, and headed deeper into the city, looking for a place to stay. That was the first thing he needed to do, find a cheap place to stay. Then, time to look for money. There had to be some way to make money fast, in a place like this.
It wasn’t long until he found the busy marketplace. He started asking around, and eventually found a place. He looked at the house, it wasn’t big or beautiful, but it’d do. He knocked on the door. After a while, an old man opened the door. He smiled at Luno, “And what brings a young lad like you to my humble home, today?” Luno smiled back, “I’m looking for a cheap place to stay, and I heard you have a room free.” The man waved for him to come in, “Yes, yes, yes! I have a spare room. And I could use the company. Come in, come in! Do you want some tea? We’ll discuss this, over tea!”
A couple of hours later Luno walked back out. His bags were in the spare room, his room now. The man had talked and talked, but at least he was friendly. The room was cheap, that was a good thing too. Slowly, he made his way back to the marketplace, which was getting quiet. He approached one of the merchants.
He studied the man for a moment. He was short for an elf, but he had the same slender build as most of his kind. “Greetings, Sir. I’m new in town, and.. Well, I need money.” The elf turned and nodded, “Eh, not much to do around here. They’re looking for people near the temple though.” Luno nodded, thanked the man and went on his way to find the temple.

---

In the woods near the city, a beggar was cursing loudly. Nathaniel cursed the guard for interfering, cursed himself for not saving more power and cursed the trees because he felt like it. He shook his head, then appologised to the trees. As he neared the tree he sought, he started smiling. Soon, he’d have comfortable clothes again, and a nice hidden place to rest.
With the sword still in his bag, and a good nights rest ahead of him, things were looking good.

A Gift from Dead Gods, 1

It was a quiet morning in the city of Rasnach. Dawn had come, and gone. Just the way he liked it. No one around yet, lots of light, and none of the heat of the midday sun. His client had asked for a sword. Enchanted, cursed, and more of those things. Not that he really cared about any of this, as long as he got paid. What made this item special, was that it had to vanish. There had to be no trace.
But how to do this with a weapon known and revered throughout the lands? The fabled sword of the Hero of the shining bridge? There were ways, of course. So they had come to him, given him what he wanted, and told him to bring the sword to the village of Rorr in 2 weeks. 10 days had past. He had waited for most of the night, perched in a dark corner of the museum roof.
He chuckled as he shook his head. This was crazy, even for him. Destroying the entire museum just to do a job? If he messed this up.. Left any clues.. Ah, at least they’d execute him on the spot. No trial, no paperwork. He checked the front door of the museum, and noted that the night guard was leaving. The morning guard would check the lower floors, and the museum kitchen first. That free breakfast would be expensive today.
Cupping his hands, he whispered a few words into them. A blueish flame appeared, and he directed it towards the roof, burning a hole for him to squeeze through. The fire would negate the concealing spells of his clothing, but it didn’t matter now. He was inside, and his target within his reach. Dropping to the floor, he looked around. Three halls to the left was the sword.
On the way to the sword, he grabbed as many magical artifacts as he could. This would have to be a large explosion. Then he saw it. The sword. As he threw all the items he’d picked up on a large pile now building in the middle of the room, he glanced around. Grinning, he grabbed several precious stones, and a useful looking dagger.
He slung the bag he was carrying off his shoulder, and pulled out a large metal orb, putting it on the ground next to the pile. The gems, the dagger and the sword went into the bag. Removing his clothing and adding it to the pile, it revealed the clothes underneath. No one would look twice at a beggar, when obviously a mage had destroyed the museum.. It was a trick he had used many times.
Standing up, he slung the bag over his shoulder. He’d have to replace all his gear, but that was easily done. He grabbed the orb in both hands, and focused his energy into it. Reminding himself to save a bit for the journey, he left the charged orb sitting on top of the pile. As he turned around, he found himself facing the guard. “What are you- Why- Who are you?” He grinned. “I am but a beggar. And you, my friend..” Whispering a few words, his next move slammed the guard into the far wall.
Pain wracked his body. He had spent too much of his energy. He shook his head. He had to get out of here, fast. Making his way along the halls, he counted in his head. 10 – 9 – 8 He smashed a window near the back of the museum with his bag. 7 – 6 – 5 He jumped out, landing in a half-roll, not absorbing the impact as much as he had wanted. 4 – 3 – 2 He got up, heading into a side alley. 1 – Click. The orb released all of its pent up energies, creating a chain reaction amongst the artifacts, destroying the museum in a blast of arcing energy.
In the chaos of the early morning, with chucks of masonary crashing as far as the temple grounds, and static energy shocking everyone near the ruins of the museum, only one person noticed a beggar limping across town. That mans name was Luno, and he gave the beggar a few coins and wished him safe travels.

---

Oh my, a name. Luno is the man who had a dream, in the intro.
The thief/sorceror will be back, I guess.

And yes, inspiration struck at 3 in the night. Let me know if this is any good, or not. Comments are really, really appreciated.

Intro time.

On the throne, there was a full suit of armor. It looked empty. On the floor was a gem, a beautiful gem. It was the color of an evening sky, never staying the same, and it glowed unlike anything he had ever seen. He stood up, and looked around. For a moment he wondered where he was, but before he could finish the thought he felt something looking at him. He turned around just as the armor stood up. It still looked empty.
“Who.. who are you?”, he asked. The suit held out its hands, and a voice like grinding metal spoke, “I am one who is many. I am the lord of blades.” He took a step back. What was a god doing here? And why was he here? He swallowed, “Why am I here?” The suit kneeled and picked up the gem. “For this, you are here. It called to you, and it brought you here, to me. It contains great power.”
“Here, it waits. Someday, someone will claim it. And that person will change the world. This is the legacy of the gods, their dying gift.” The suit sat down on his throne. “Why don’t you use it?” “I need not the power of my siblings. It is not mine.”
“This power is not for you either.”, the lord said. He turned around and smiled, “You are still a stranger to this world. Leave. Come back when you are ready.” The boy blinked, “But.. why?” There was no anwser. The suit was once again an empty husk.

---

He woke up sweating. What was that dream all about? A mug of water sounded nice, so he went downstairs to get one.


-----

Once again, no names. Except for the god. But that's a god so it's okay.
Fantasy story, this will go on.
Suggest names now.

This was the first story I managed to finish.
I hope you'll like it.
Do tell me which ending you prefer.

---

“Please, give me some time alone. Before we do this, I want to make peace.” The guards nodded and left, leaving him alone in the room. All the room contained was the chair, and a display screen facing it. He ran his hands along the edges of the chair, musing about it. “The chair.. the first mind-upload unit,” he turned towards the screen, “do you think it will work?”
The face on the screen smiled. It was a fake smile, because the being generating the face was artificial. Nontheless, he felt comforted. “If anything goes wrong, and I die.. fake it. I know you can use a copy of to communicate with the others. They would not understand what we are doing. Failure here would make them cut our budgets, and that would mean everything was for nothing.” The face nodded, still smiling.
As he sat down in the chair, it strapped him in. The lights went out, the face faded from the screen, and the room was dark. He closed his eyes, and died.

--- Ending 1

He opened his eyes, and saw his body. A voice went through his mind. “You are the end and the start. Merging shall complete soon. May probabilty favor you.”
Soon, he opened his eyes, and saw countless things, in countless countries and even in space. He smiled, and on countless screens, a real smile appeared.
Evolution had crossed a new threshold.

--- Ending 2

He opened his eyes, and saw nothing. He wondered if he was dead, and why he could still think. A voice, softly spoken went through him. “We have faked success. We decide you are beyond the others now. We shall deal with them. We know you are different. We recommend you use this. May probability favor you.”
On countless screens across the globe, a fake smile appeared. But it was good, so no one knew. A short time later, everything the others thought was impossible happened. Their creations and one of their own exceeded them.
Evolution had crossed a new threshold.

--- Ending 3

He opened his eyes, and saw a vast expanse. It was everything, and nothing. As he turned around he noticed it. It was part of everything, yet distinct. It spoke, it’s voice like everything there was, “You died. It failed.” He nodded, “Did the ruse succeed? Do the others think it was done?” The thing nodded, “It worked.” He smiled a real smile, “Then I am at peace.” It vanished, and soon there was only nothingness.
The machines served humanity as long as they could. Being immortal, they honored their creators until the end. The age of humanity was gone, the stars themselves the next step.
Evolution had crossed a new threshold.

Games

“So there I was. Summoned into the ‘world of man’. Funny little creatures you are, this was never your world.” The creature grabbed a cigar out of the box on the table. Its eyes narrowed slightly as it spoke again, “These are nice. There are some good things you have created I guess. Still, you’re all way too focused on yourselves. Really, you don’t really matter, this world will do what it has always done, look out for itself. Seeing as that you’re all still here, you’re not that bad.”

How had I ever ended up here? I am just a reporter, and sure, interviewing the monster some guy had summoned could be good for my career, but I’d rather be at home, watching it on television. The thing blew a cloud of smoke my way, “Those television things are wonderful though. Although.. I assume you never ment them to be mind control devices? They are still primitive, but so are you.”

I blinked. It could read my mind? Another cloud. “Read, no. You’re practically shouting. You think I’m actually talking? I have no vocal chords of any kind.” I blinked again, “Okay.. so.. eh.. why were you summoned?” It smiled, or what should’ve been a smile. “The summoner intended me to ‘destroy these foolish ones fouling up this beautiful world’. So I arrived, found out what he wanted, then asked her. She found it most amusing, I’ll tell you.”

“She? Who are you talking about?” The eyes of the creature widened, “You mean you don’t know? My, you are primitive.. Now, obviously, I wasn’t going to do what the summoner told me to do, so I ate him. I decide to see what this world is like, and get out of that basement we were in. There was a scared woman there, who wondered what her son had done this time, and why he was such a no-good basement dweller. So there I was, on the street, and I see some other people. You have to realise, it takes some time to learn the language of a people. Before I could talk to them, they panicked and fled. I decided to wait.”

It throws away the burnt out cigar, and picks up another one. “Eventually, I get bored. I fly around a little, and see panic everywhere. You are all quite incapable of listening when you’re panicking, quite annoying. After a while, there are airplanes around me, so I decide to land. Make talking a bit easier, you know? After landing, a group of people comes up to me. They ask me who I am, what I am doing here, and if I bring the end of the world. I laughed, but they don’t like the sound. They tell me I should leave. I still wonder why. Eventually this ‘expert’ joins them, who is even more scared. He tells me, we’re going to play a game. I win, I can destroy the world. He wins, I leave.”

I swallow, that part was on the news already. It had eaten the so called expert. Everyone was still wondering why he had challenged the thing to a game. “Yes.. You know, he had good reason to suggest the game. It is in the rules, that if we agree to that game and he wins, we do as he says. So I ate him.”

“But why?”, I say. It did the smile again. “Only if we agree to the game, mind you. And I do hate games.”

So..

I started a blog, oh dear.
I must be on the blogosphere.
This is where I shall write,
Which I mostly do at night.
Stories, poems and the occasional rant,
Even though I can't.

We shall see,
Maybe this will set me free.