Young Writers Society

The woman awoke a second time to find herself alone in the room. It was darker than before and therefore much less painful to behold. The woman lay still a while but thirst drove her to reach a cautious hand out to the cup. Drawing it towards her, she brought it to her lips but spilled most across the white bed sheets.

Still thirsty, the woman tried to sit up and found that it was easier than she had anticipated. She took hold of the jug, poured herself a drink and sipped the water slowly as she observed the room. It was small and relatively empty but there was the bed, the bedside table, two large chests and a mirror; hanging on the wall. All decorated in a pleasant lavender. She placed the cup back down and moved the blankets aside so she could climb out of the bed. Her head throbbed painfully as she crossed the room to the mirror.

"Older than I expected," the woman murmured as she stared at the reflection, tracing the lines of the unfamiliar face with her dark, chocolate eyes, trying to conceal the panic she felt inside. The woman lifted a hand to brush away a few tendrils of black hair, flinching as she did so, to reveal a large, dark bruise. She allowed the hair to fall back. She glanced down and placed an olive hand on her stomach.

"Barely a bulge. Maybe I'm just a little fat," she reasoned.

(Hunter was playing the part of Seraph, right?)

Zel brought his fist into one demon's face and spun around to smack his foot into another's ankle. Both demons howled in pain. The first demon was covering its face with its hand where Zel had kicked it. The Drunken Boxer charged the demon and brought his knee into its chest. The monster bent over as the wind was knocked out of it. Zel grabbed the creature's head and twisted it as hard as he could. The demon's neck snapped like a twig.

Zel turned to the other demon he had hit. Its leg was in a odd position where he had kicked it. The demon tried to grab Zel as he approached, but the agile man slipped under its arms and climbed onto its back. Zel locked his legs around the demon's chest to keep himself from falling. The monster flailed about, trying to throw the young man off its body. Zel reached down for what he believed to be the creature's ribs. He pushed his fingers against the skin and wrapped them around the two nearest bones he could find. He closed his eyes and imagined the walnuts he had to break with his grip during the years of his training. He squeezed as hard and as fast as he could, the demon's ribs cracked under the pressure.

Zel rolled off of the demon as it cried out in pain. Zel put his fingers together to form a cone with his hand and drove it into one of the spots with the broken ribs. The demon fell from the excruciating pain.

Zel looked back to see the corpse of his master. There was nothing he could do to help him. The man who had taken him in and taught him how to fight was laying dead before him. He had been the only father Zel ever had.

Rage built up inside him as he turned to the man who killed Master Quinn. He screamed in anguish as he charged Seraph with all his might. The sightless man seemed to smile as he stood in Zel's path, waiting. Zel threw a massive palm strike at Seraph, aiming for his face. With inhuman speed the man caught Zel's arm in mid-swing.

Zel pulled his arm back to help balance himself as he lifted his leg to kick Seraph in the ribs. The sightless man grabbed his leg with his other hand. With a hand on Zel's wrist and leg Seraph lifted him into the air and threw him into a tree. Zel's head smacked against the bark. His vision became hazy as he tried to get back to his feet.

Lireal

The ground shook, but Lireal stood fast keeping balance, her enemy (Valin) was unpretrubed. It was only when an inhuman screech and roar reached her ears, she risked a glance blocking a slash aimed at her breast. Lord Belfast was glowing and that wasn't all runic symbols appeared on him, with beasts of which she'd only heard of in legends or tales to scare kids. Something was surely amiss here, but still she fought on, she was going to get herself killed if she didn't concentrate. The Murderer as if sensing this fought on harder.

"Drow scum--pray to your Spider Queen for a quick death."

She growled viciously, "Just like scum like you to point out flaws!"

He just laughed and evaded her angry blows. The whole area around her was chaos she could hear it all. The old man had fallen.

With one expert strike she tried to do slit his throat, this masterful stroke would of killed an expert swordsman, he dodged it like it was nothing sneering at her.

"Valin Nouvir, lets hope the ancestors are kinder to you than I'll be, for you know no honour."

Still looking at her in contempt he countered, ""I have no honor...says the drow who lives in a hole."

Feeling intensely mad, she risked another glance at a scene, seeing a... no it couldn't be a Paladin rushed at Lord Belfast. He stabbed him, but then was lifted and his life drained out.

Lireal couldn't understand now, her rage was fading and nothing made sense. She ducked a swing he threw at her all a sudden with quick reflexes she pushed a dart into his calf. He growled and disarmed her with a swift kick that would of broken a human hand. It was only a graze but it was enough. She decided kill him then work it all out.

Adrian

His vison was blurring on and off. He knew he was going to die. He felt all his nerves slowly shutting down. His armour felt so heavy on his now more lanky arms.

Still Adrian forced himself to stay conscious having eyes only for Becky how majestic she looked. Now he felt himself slipping away he couldn't deny her certain beauty. His only idea of splendour and beauty was his Father calling all the temple priestess gorgeous.

A recollection slowly formed in his mind.

He was just finished his Knight education for the day, some swordmanship ,cleaning the weapons and armour. Adrian was just about to go to his room in the temple - a vast wonderful building made out the best stone. With over fifty steps leading to it. On top a large dome built entirely or intricately delicate pictures shining a myriad of bright vibrant colours- It was as he made his way up he heard a women crying out. Adrian felt drawn to the sounds. His curiousity needed to know. Jumping down the stairs he ran over to the bushes where he heard the noise. Peeking his head over he saw his Father and one of the priestess. He didn't understand the idea of what they were doing. Where was his Mum? Surely if it was so fun, she'd want to join in.

Adrian's Dad caught his eyes and stood up the woman slightly protesting, and in a low voice he growled, "Adrian Tempest leave, and don't tell anyone what you witnessed here!"

Adrian panicked he'd never seen his Dad so mad, but he wouldn't tell, at least until his father gave him permission.

The cave came back and he growled, he finally knew why he hated his Dad so much. The man had taught him about loyalty and wasn't even himself. Sighing with much exhaustion he let his vison fall back to Becky. He had something to tell her. She fought like a demon pocessed but he only saw her undefinable splendour and wonderment. He kept his eyes open with such weariness but he had to tell her he just had to!

She slowly traversed the room, getting used to being on her feet again. She opened the first of the large chests to reveal some black pants, a light cotton shirt, sturdy black boots and a belt. She lifted the items out one at a time, feeling their weight and texture, breathing in their scent, trying to trigger some thought; some memory. Pulling the night gown over her head, she dressed in the unfamiliar outfit and returned to the mirror.

"Out of bed already?" The woman from before bustled into the room with a tray and sniffed indignantly when she saw what her patient was wearing.

"Yes. I'm feeling much better now. What's your name?"

"I go by Mildred around here." The woman moved further into the room, not looking up, shuffling towards the other side.

"I was wondering - what's in the other chest? The one that's locked."

"That one?" Mildred placed the tray on the bedside table and pulled a ring of keys from her belt. "I take it you don't remember anything yet. That one's got your valuables in." Mildred frowned as if she disapproved of these valuables and then unlocked the chest with a large, brass key. The woman stepped closer and stared in surprise at the shield, sword, money pouch and armour that lay within.

"Those are mine?" she asked.

Alden slammed into Seraph. Seraph was knocked off balance, the only time Alden had ever seen him in this way. He capitalized on this by digging his talons into Seraph's torso. His battle claws dug into Seraph's armor. Alden withdrew as he felt Seraph go for his sword.

In a second, both combatants were on their feet again.

"You should have stayed dead," Seraph said.

"I had other ideas," Alden said. He lunged at Seraph, who brought his sword up. Alden blocked it with his claws. Seraph swung him off.

"You look terrible," Alden said.

"I've never been better," Seraph replied.

The two joined combat again, Alden went low, but was forced back by Seraph's blade. Seraph advanced and Alden moved back towards a grove of trees, blocking several of Seraph's attacks at the same time.

"You're losing," Seraph said. He sliced again, but Alden dodged under it, lunging at Seraph. Seraph moved his hand up to grasp Alden, but Alden grabbed it with his steel claws and squeezed. The sharp blades of the steel claws dug into Seraph's palm. Blood squirted from the hand, as Alden used his other claw to rake Seraph's armor. A struggle ensued as the two struggled for control.

Finally, the two were disengaged. Alden's claws were slick with Seraph's blood. Seraph's armor had been scratched noticeably, the red paint from the chest section had been almost completely scraped off. Seraph had regained control and the two foes stood off.

"You were saying?" Alden taunted. Seraph grimaced and his tattoos began to glow. They writhed around like a tortured animal. The wounds healed up and Alden frowned.

"I have no more time to waste on you," Seraph said. Another portal opened and demons came out.

Valin

It all happened so suddenly. All at once, Seraph had appeared with a host of demons at his side. No, this was not Seraph Belfast. Not the Seraph Belfast HE knew. He stared into Seraph's deep wells of blackness which once held his eyes, and they still echoed residual effects of the power and leadership that once emanated from every orifice of Seraph's being. Seraph--no the husk of the man who was formerly known as Seraph--Valin reminded himself, met his gaze until the last possible moment, when Alden. the brave yet foolhardy griffin lunged into the attack. When Seraph at last broke Valin's gaze, Valin noticed something even stranger in this odd skirmish: a female Drow warrior was hurling herself at Valin, blades drawn.
Valin easily parried the first few attacks of the Drow, and countered with well placed blows of his own that were blocked by the Drow's foul blades.
"Drow scum, pray to your spider queen for a quick death," Valin said, mirth rich in his voice. He relished this fight, and didn't attempt to hide it. For his ethnic memory of his people, and the treachery of the Drow princes was fresh in his mind, and sending a Drow back to Drai'icath was an idea he relished more than anything. The drow layed out a few more quick, unaimed slashes which Valin easily parried.
"Just like scum to point out flaws!" the Drow growled as she let loose another array of poorly aimed attacks, which Valin parried and countered, the steel of his blades flashing and glinting in the sunlight, like a halo of death around the two warriors. Amid the chaos of battle a muffled sound of the life being snuffed out echoed just within earshot of Valin, followed by the scream of anger of the young drunken brawler the party had acquired recently. So the old man had met his end; so be it, Valin thought. They had little use for him anyway, and in any sense, there was no time to dwell on it now, for he was too engaged in a battle with the scum of the Earth--the Drow.
At this moment, the Drow warrior sent a would-be death blow to its target, Valin's throat, however, this Drow was inexperienced at best, and Valin easily dodged the strike.
She screamed at him "Valin Norovir, lets hope the ancestors are kinder to you than I'll be, for you have no honor!" as she attempted to drive home a thrust to Valin's solar plexus.
"I have no honor...says the Drow who lives in a hole," Valin replied, his voice full of malice.
At this time, the Drow risked a quick glance at the chaos ensuing all around; and Valin saw his chance and took it: He stuck a quick slash down towards her head, but she ducked the blow and jabbed a dart into Valin's thigh. He howled in pain, but kicked her in the hand, with a strength belied by his Elven build. The kick shattered her hand and flung her sword more than a few meters away, too far for her to sprint to retrieve. This fight; Elf against Drow, two mortal enemies was as beautiful as it was deadly: it was if it were not a fight to the death, but a ballet of swords and other instruments of death, their folded steel blades glinting in the sun and clanging against each other, making a sort of symphony of death being composed in this fight, but only one would survive this beautiful dance of death, and Valin was damn sure it would be he. Once the Drow was disarmed, he found his chance and took it. He lunged at the Drow, delivering a few fast, quick punches to her face, beating her so that she was dazed and couldn't tell where to fight from first. He quickly picked her up and threw her over his shoulder, onto the hard stone ground of the crevasse in which they were fighting, her legs flying high over his head, her body lying splayed on the cement ground, she tried, in vain, to pick herself up again and regain the fight.However, Valin never let her get that far. He quickly jumped on her chest, holding her head back, exposing her throat and gutteral vain, and drew back his sword to stab her, in delivering the coup d'grace, relishing greatly his victory over his races sworn enemy.
"Give my regards to your Spider Queen, Drow. And bring her the message that the House of Norovir will one day send her, too, to Drai'icath"