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Rated: 13+ · Campfire Creative · Fiction · Fantasy · #782363
A darkness is rising in the land of Aragoth...
[Introduction]
A darkness is rising in the land of Aragoth, and it is up to a few chosen individuals to find it and destroy it before it engulfs the entire land. These chosen few represent all races that live in Aragoth, and they must come together to defend their homeland.

You need to come up with a character following these guidelines:
Name
Race ~ you can have just about any race, invent your own if you want. Just make it believable.
Gender
Skill/Profession ~ make it fit the race if you can (i.e., don’t make an orc very skilled at magic, or a wizard warrior. It just doesn’t fit).
Weapon ~ Just make it believable. Again, make it fit. Preferably no superpower-type things (I suppose that can also go with profession).
Personality
You can also include some background info on your character if you want to enhance them. Follow my example if you want. You can have more than one character if you want, but don’t go crazy with them. One is great, two is fine, three is max (and maybe a little overboard). It will depend on how many people join.

I’ll give you a few days (3-5) to put in your entry or else I will skip you. If you know you will be gone, let me know. This just keeps it flowing. Also, please try to use decent grammar and spelling! You don’t know how painful it is to read things with horrible spelling! You should have a word processor of some type, so please use its spellchecker! Other than that, there’s not much else. I just want to get this going and see where it goes.


The End!

*Oops! Having problems with this. Lol.*

Anyways, here is my character. This is how your fisrt entry will look. You can chose to have just the character info or you can add to the story, too.

Name: Rokis
Race: Human
Gender: Male
Skill/Profession: Thief
Weapon: Two topaz studded daggers, with different colors of topaz embedded in the hilt. One has bright red gems that glows brown in the presence of enemies; the other a clear gem that glows yellow in the presence of enemies. There is something very special about these daggers. What is so special about them is still unknown, but he gets a certain indescribable feeling when he handles them.
Personality: Tough, very strong. Often underestimates the power of his enemies, and, at times, overestimates his own. When he makes a friend, he gets very close to that person, and will protect them at all costs. Has the uncanny ability to sense when a friend is in trouble.
Appearance: Stands about 6 feet tall. Has a nice tan. His blue eyes have a happy sparkle in them, but can turn cold and unforgiving if you mess with him. Short dark hair that easily gets messed up, but can be restyled almost as easily.
Background: When he was young, his village had been attacked by some orcs. Somehow, he had managed to slip into the forest unnoticed. He was the only survivor. He had vowed his revenge upon all orcs. He survived by becoming a thief. He has few true friends throughout the years, but each one of them met an untimely demise. The last one was named Rokis, who had been killed by an unknown power. This same power had given him his daggers. He was told to help someone with these daggers, although he was never told whom. To this day, he is still on the lookout for a sign or clue as to the identity of this person.
Name: Lorien Knorth
Race: Kencyr
Gender: female
Skill/Profession: At the moment she's a cook but she's a traveller so it depends on where she is. Since she's a highborn from the house of Knorth, she has touch of Shanir blood. Unknown how it will manafest itself.
Weapons: master of a form of Kencyr unarmed combat called the Senethar, trained in Tai-Tastigon knife fighting.
Personality: kind and intelligent, but can turn deadly in an instant. She's a Kencyr so she never lies, if you say she does she'll fight to the death to defend her honor.
Appearance: Kencyr (yes, the race of people created by P.C. Hodgell) look generally human except they have a finer, more delicate bone structure. Lorien has silver grey eyes and long, wavy black hair. She has an olive complexion, is muscular and moves with grace. She carries a large piece of cloth that bears a picture of a horse covered in ivory that she stores folded in the bottom of her pack.
Background: *Just to note-Kencyr are rare in this world. Not much is known about them except their standards of honor so they are seen as odd rarities.* Lorien was born after most of her people fled the world and grew up knowing few of her own kind. She doesn't know much about the house she was born into. When she was old enough and her mother could take care of herself, she left and began to see the world and try to find the other members of the Kencyrath who had either stayed or were left behind. She's seen a lot since then and has gained a lot of experience in the ways of the world. Often times, she'll employ herself at an inn in a city that strikes her as interesting and stay a few months. Right now, she's employed at an inn as a cook.
Character: Forest

Race: Elf

Gender: Female

Skill/Profession: Teacher (she teaches archery)

Weapon: Bow and arrows

Personality: She’s nice and very outgoing. She enjoys learning and is very quick at it. She likes to help others and is honest. She doesn’t like to give up and is very friendly.

Description: She has green eyes. Her long, straight, blond hair is usually in a ponytail and her height is average. She is thin and she wears a locket around her neck.

She also has a horse named Blaze. She’s very great at archery and has a bow and arrows.
A Non-Existent User
Name: Osgerb deTome
Race: Gnome
Gender: Male
Skill/Profession: Traveling Wizard, Wiseman
Weapon: Staff

Personality: Osgerb is insufferably annoying. He always seems to be talking about how dumb everyone else is compared to him, and how much of a genius he really is. He is good-hearted, but his constant arrogance of his intelligence puts many people from becomin close friends with him

Background: Osgerb is short and his hair is a dark black. He has a huge nose, and wears a typical grey wizard robe. When asked about his past, Osgerb proudly proclaims he hails from a small village deep in a forest. You get the feeling that this secluded village was too stifling for him, so he left, saying he should spread his intelligence and wisdom to all. You get the feeling that nobody was heartbroken. He has been traveling, willing to share his facts of life with anybody who cares to listen. It has been a long walk.
*Just to let you know, I made a typo in my character’s background. His friend was named Ronin, not Rokis. Sorry.*

Blackness. Suddenly, a blur of light. The blur grew. Rokis slowly opened his eyes. He saw dozens of orcs lying around him. There was a smoldering village in the background, and … what was that sticky stuff that covered him? Blood. Lots of blood. It all started to come back to him as his vision cleared. The orcs had been pillaging the village, and he came to stop them. He had fought alongside some others, but he hadn’t paid much attention to them. He noticed that the gems in his daggers were glowing, but only slightly. He tried to get up, but thought better of it. He laid there, and gradually became overwhelmed by exhaustion.

When Rokis awoke the second time, he heard the sound of voices coming towards him. He slowly got to his feet, and saw two figures emerge from the woods. One of them looked like a clergyman, and he was supporting the other, a weeping woman.
“Good day,” said the clergy to Rokis. “Oh my! I didn’t think there were any survivors here. Well, you must be a lucky fellow. I have searched this sight three times and haven’t found a single survivor. In fact, I was just helping Mrs. Narthias find her husband. We live in a nearby village, and her husband was out chopping wood, when he suddenly bursts in, grabs his sword, and runs back out the door, without saying a word to her. Then she heard of this battle, and she thinks that this must be where Mr. Narthias was going.” Mrs. Narthias, who had started searching among the bodies, let out an incredible wail. The clergy and Rokis ran toward her, and she was bent over an old man, about fifty years old, at least. It was hard to tell, because his face was so disfugured. Mrs. Narthias let out another wail, then picked up her late husband’s sword, and before anything could be done to stop her, impaled herself. The clergy just shook his head.
“I’m sorry to see them go like that. They were both such incredible people, once you got to know them.” He began to administer their last rites.

When he was finished, he turned to Rokis and asked, “So what’s your story? Did you live here, or did you stumble upon this village, like Mr. Narthias?”
“I more or less stumbled upon it,” Rokis replied.
“Let me take you to my village, where I can fix you up,” the clergy offered.
“Thank you. That would be very much appreciated.” They started to walk from the direction the clergy had come, the clergy supporting Rokis. They didn’t talk much, but Rokis did manage to find out the man’s name was Rynell. They arrived at Rynell’s house, a small farmhouse on the outskirts of a comfy village, and Rynell dressed his wounds and cleaned him up.
“Thank you for taking care of me, but I really must be going. I have business that I must attend to,” Rokis said.
“At least stay the night. I will cook dinner and breakfast for you, and I have an extra bed. I insist that you stay. It is the least that I can do for you.”
“Alright, I will stay the night, but I must leave early in the morning,” Rokis said.
“Of course. I will have dinner prepared shortly.” After showing Rokis to his room, Rynell went off to make dinner. Rokis busied himself by cleaning his daggers. Shortly after dinner (beef and carrot stew), Rokis went to bed, still exhausted from the battle.

Rokis awoke the next morning at sunrise. He crept into the kitchen, took an apple and some carrots, and left a note thanking Rynell for his hospitality and kindness. He slipped out the door and walked off into the sunrise…
The steam rose from the bowl, hot and spicy and smelling of sage. Lidya took it and headed out into the inn common while Lorien turned back to the makings of a humble pie.

"Turin!" shouted Maronie, spreading a cloud of flour across the kitchen. "Where is that boy...I swear I'll skin him alive.." Lorien hid a smile. She had gotten to know the small inn family during the past month and she knew Maronie's bark was worse than her bite.

"Maronie, this one's done," Lorien announced as she added the last bit of carrot to the pie. Maronie jumped then put her hand to her heart and shook her head.

"You're so bloody quiet....odd people you Kencyr" she added in a mumble. "Well then, take a break lass, you'll work your fingers to the bone."

"Or burn them," Lorien said, holding up a finger, "I've already done that once today." Maronie chuckled and shooed her out of the kitchen.

Lorien made her way to a small table in the shadows and sipped hot spiced cider and watched the fire make dancing shadows on the wall. After a bit, she pulled out a map of the Eastern Lands and began to trace forests and roads with her fingertips. A few moments later a small bell rang as the door swung open and someone new entered the half empty inn.
A Non-Existent User
"Can I interest you in any book, kind sir?" asked Osgerb.

"No thanks, gnome. I am busy today," said the stranger wrapped in his cloak.

"Sir, I insist!"

The gnome was walking alongside the cloaked man, waving a book. Well, when your only just above 3 feet tall, it is hard to get someone's attention.

"As I said, I have business to attend to."

"What kind, might I ask?"

"It is none of yours."

"Well, if I didn't know better, I would say you were some kind of thug. It isn't everyday someone decides to leave at sunrise, especially since the closest village has ben destroyed. I think you were involved in it."

The stranger stopped.

"More than you know."

"Interesting. Perhaps I should make my next addition about meeting you." Osgerb took out his journal and tapped a magic feather pen on his chin. "Hmmmm... Creepy, tall man wrapped in a cloak, leaving town in the early morning."

"What do you want, gnome?" asked the stranger, turning to him.

Osgerb looked up at a face that seemed torn. Osgerb was a good judge of character, and he knew this man knew more than he let on. His eyes seemed that they were once happy, but there was despair as well.

"Might I join you? You see, I have many professions, such as wiseman, mage, book seller, and tale teller. And you seem interesting. Interesting enough that I want to write a tale about you? And any storyteller that can tell a story first hand has the best story."

"Join me? I don't even know your name."

"Oh... But didn't I tell you? But I must have! Ah, I shall explain to you. I am Osgerb deTome. Of the famous deTome clan! I might also mention I am the smartest and wisest being you will ever meet. So, uh, what say you?"
"I'm Lorien," she said, sliding into a chair with a grin. "Forgive my surprise but, well, I've heard stories." She nodded at Kes's necklace. "Now, where are you two travelling to that you have graced our inn with your presence."

Kestral chuckled. "Actually we just met. As for where we're I'm travelling too," she shrugged, "only time will tell. What about you,Kyreal?"

Kyreal seemed distracted and was pulled back into reality by Kestrals question. "Wherever the road takes me," she responded as a troubled look returned to her eyes and she glanced warily around the inn.

"I know what your thinking," silver grey eyes met burgundy and held them. "Rumors have spawned seemingly from the shadows and are on the tongue of many a weary traveller. Several days ago a group of pilgrims from the north came through here on a pilgrimage to their temple in Camerion. They were on their way to pray for deliverance...from what," she shrugged, "they didn't say. Fear held their tongues." A clatter of pots in the kitchen followed by loud squawking broke Loriens gaze. She gave a small grin and rose gracefully to her feet. "It's been nice talking to you but I'd better head back to the kitchens. By the way, I hope you'll be staying the night. I've heard, and seen, that some nasty things come out at night. It's best to stay indoors." but who knows how long that will be safe Lorien added silently to herself, no need to worry the two.
A Non-Existent User
Name: Malidor

Race: Half Elf/Half Human

Gender: Male

Skill/Profession: Very skilled with both sword and bow. Not too shabby with his fists either. Used to be chief advisor in the elven city of Sahmarin, now he just wanders.

Appearance: 5'9. Looks about 25. Long straight light blonde hair, with one thick black streak in front. He is slim, but powerful, and moves like an elf. He has light blue eyes that turn almost black when he is angry. He has all of the advantages of the elves.

Background: Malidor was raised as an elf by his mother, when his father died. He was the youngest member on the council, and well sought after for his advice on many things. Malidor fell in love and married a beautiful human woman named Denalrah. His heart was torn apart as he had to watch her grow old and die. One year after her death, Malidor left the council, and Sahmarin, and now just wanders. Lately, he is feeling as if he is needed somewhere. There is a darkness forming, he can feel it in his soul. The challange would be to find it.

****************************

The human half of him was protesting his empty stomache, as it grumbled loudly. He patted it lightly and sighed.
"Guess I'd better find something to eat, or every enemy in these woods will hear me coming."
Almost as if to answer him, his stomache growled again. Malidor moved swiftly through the forest. His keen sense of direction led him to believe that he was near a small village.
Just then, his elven ears picked up a sound. He immediately stopped to listen. It was a child.
Tightening his grip on his bow, Malidor raced through the trees toward the sound. The branches seemed to move out of his way, for none scratched at him.
As Malidor reached a clearing, he saw 2 small children huddled together against a large tree. Coming out of the forest, directly across from him, were 6 Orcs. They were closing in on their prey.
Malidor immediately noched his bow, and the first one went down.He killed the other five before they even knew from which direction the attack was being launched.
He walked toward the children, and they whimpered as he drew near. He held his palms up.
"I shall not harm you. Come, I am on my way to the nearest village. I will find help for you."
He gave them a rare smile, and they slowly got to their feet. Then, in a flash, they were both in his arms, clinging with all they had.
Malidor felt a vise tighten around his heart.
He carried the two, a boy and a girl, easily, and made his way, again, toward the village.
Because his arms were occupied, Malidor kicked the door to the Inn open, and entered.
The Inn was only half full, but still, every head turned in his direction, and the silence was almost deafening.
"There were six Orcs, not far from here. They are dead now, but..." he looked at each child. "Their prey requires some assistance."
A large woman came rushing up to them with her arms outstretched.
"C'mere darlins, I will fix ye up right well, I will."
Although they were reluctant to let go of him, they did, and let the woman lead them into the kitchen. Malidor watched them dissappear, and turned his head, when, out of the corner of his eye, he saw someone approaching.
“Six orcs, you say? Are you sure that they are dead?”
“Yes, I killed them myself. They were easy targets,” Malidor replied, patting is bow.
“Good. Then maybe you can help me. I have felt a darkness rising in the east. I do not know what evil is going on there, but I am on a journey to give aid to whoever may need it, or to destroy whatever foul thing may arise.’
“Yes, I have felt this darkness too. I have been searching for this darkness myself for many days now. Perhaps it would be better if we sought out this evil together.”
“Perhaps. You are a fair archer, are you not?” He waited for Malidor to nod. “Show me.”
“I’m sorry sir, but I do not know who you are. Can I trust you?”
“You can trust me. The question is can I trust you? Come.” The man led Malidor outside to a clearing. At the edge of the clearing, about three hundred yards away, was an apple orchard. “I want you to hit one of those apples, any one.” Malidor knocked an arrow and let fly. It hit a green apple square in the middle. “Good. Now hit it again, three more times.” Malidor released three more arrows. Each of them hit the one before, splitting it. “Very good, indeed. How are you with a sword?” he asked
“Almost as good as I am with my bow.”
“I believe you,” the man responded. “My name is Rokis. As I said, I am on a journey east to find what evil lies there. Tell me, what is your name?”
“I am Malidor.”
:”Malidor, you seem to be a kind-hearted person. Will you accompany me on my mission?”
“My heart tells me that you are also kind. I will accompany you. But first, can we get some food, because I am really hungry?”
Rokis laughed. “Yes. I will even buy you a drink. We set off tomorrow. But tonight, let’s be merry.” And with that, they walked back to the inn.
"Here you are young 'uns" Maronie said, herding two small children into the kitchen. Lorien looked up from a pie, smelling strongly of mulberry. "Just sit here and rest, I'll get ye all fixed up. Lorien, cut them a slice of that pie." Maronie bustled off and returned with some warm cloths to clean their tired, scared faces. Lorien cut them each a generous slice and put the pie in front of them. The two stared at it for a moment eyes fogged without the presence of memory, then their eyes became clearer and they began wolfing it down.

"Where did you come from," Lorien breathed, "with your haunted eyes."

"From the darkening day, clinging to the arms of a stranger," Maronie responded quietly to Lorien's almost silent question. "The man said there were six orc's and these," she nodded to the hungry children, "were their prey."

"Where are their parents? Do they lie dead? Slaughtered like cattle?"

Maronie shrugged. "That I don't know lass. They came in with the stranger. Since they were orc prey I assume they are, indeed, dead. Now lass, don't start that," Maronie warned, recognizing a certain look in Lorien's silver eyes. "The stranger said he killed all six of them, orc's I mean, don't go digging them up again, for their sakes." She rested a hand on the girl childs dirty locks.

Lorien took a deep breath and her eyes softened. "You're right, of course. But...never mind. Where is the man? Does he want his children back?"

"I was wondering the same. Go find out, he's over there," Maronie gestured and turned her attention to the children.

Lorien left the kitchen, trailing odors of cinnamon and cloves that seemed to curl around her feet and the chairs of patrons like small serpents. She approached the table of a man with eyes the color of a new sky and another with hair of a blackbirds wing. They were talking in hidden voices, but she picked out words like, "darkness" and "danger."

"Excuse me," she said addressing the man with the light eyes, her voice cutting through their speech. "I don't mean to disturb you, but we have somethings of yours, in kitchen, and would like to know if you would like them back."

He looked at her blinking a moment, the low light casting shadows on his hair where black fought a losing battle against blonde. "Oh...right..." he took a breath.

"The inn," she said, treading carefully, "takes care of such things, if you don't want to that is. They always take good care of the lost...or the wanderers," she added as an after thought with a half smile. "I'll let you think about it." She turned to leave, then paused and turned back. "When you killed the orcs...was it quick and clean."

"One shot each, quick as an arrow can fly. Dead on the mark."

"He's very good," said his companion, blue eyes sparkling like sapphires in the shadows.

She gave the children's rescuer a bitter smile. "You showed more mercy than I would have. I would have..." she shook her head and sighed. "But you showed mercy and for that I comend you. I'll leave you alone now to finish your food and drink. Tell one of us what you decide." With that she turned smoothly and headed back to the kitchens.

© Copyright 2003 EuphoniumMaster06, WithyWindle, Forest, xx-xx, xx-xx, (known as GROUP).
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Printed from https://shop.writing.com/main/campfires/item_id/782363-The-Fight-for-Aragoth