Welcome to the Character Creation Contest #2 VOTING THREAD!
Okay so the way this is done is simple, everyone's story is in a spoiler block underneath. Comment below once you've read all the stories and put your vote with said person's name.
After a few days once the votes are tallied I'll announce the winner and they'll start Character Creation Contest #3
GOOD LUCK TO EVERYONE AND ENJOY!
Story is based on:
"A warrior is to be swift, agile, merciless. These are the values your father teaches. You tell me to you wish to rebel. Why would you trust me with this knowledge?" Princess Anouke stared into the cold face of her father's scholar, Ranmitakh. Her fists tightened and her lips moved slowly.
"My father is a tyrant. His pillaging will lead to the death of our home, you are his scholar, you write and you read for him, you know his deepest thoughts, you know what I speak to be true."
"You are only 15 years of age, your training will be tough, harsh, men have broken under it, men with an even greater will and desire than yours."
"Desire is a changing thing, but none possess more will, nor skill with a blade." Her eyes followed the scholar as he moved with surprising speed for his age, he was nearing 75 but showed no signs that he was beyond the peak of his life.
"And what would you have me teach you, my lady."
"I would not be your master, rather you would be mine. I wish to learn the ways of my mother and those before her."
"That knowledge is forbidden." Ranmitakh walked closer to her.
"Yet you still practise. It is forbidden to the citizens of this kingdom. But out there," She looked out of the window, indicating the endless forest that surrounded her home, "the kingdom will never reach us."
"Leave." The old man said. "Your father does not like it when you stay from your room past nightfall. It makes it hard for the guards to keep track of who's in the streets."
"I like it that way. So they don't have a chance to continue their twisted pleasures."
"Then it was you." Ranmitakh looked up slowly.
"Yes, it was I who protected my people from death, from sacrifice, from all things my father wishes to hurt them with. And I will continue without your help." She turned to leave.
"Wait." She stopped in her tracks, still facing the exit. Ranmitakh produced a small blade from his belt and threw it at the young woman, she stayed still, not even flinching when the blade nicked the knot on her shirt. It fell, revealing a large birthmark on her back, in the shape of a Sphinx. She turned to face him. He rolled up his sleeve, bearing the same mark on his inner forearm. "It seems we have work to do."
"Then let us begin, my master."
The crystal tears dropped from her eyes, getting caught up in the wind as she held the handle of her knife to her cheek. Fear mixed with sadness, and a tinge of anger washed over her as she stubbornly held her ground. The Princess regripped her knife, her knuckles going from purple to white as her hand squeezed the handle tighter.
The giant black pig beast roared with laughter, its eyes flared red “Stupid girl! Do you think that flimsy skewer will hurt me, Okkoto?”
She looked down at the blade, it shimmered an electric blue “You don’t know what this is, do you?”
The monster paused and shifted its weight backwards as the Princess bravely took a step towards it, the knife pointed at its heaving matted chest.
“This was forged by Miyazki in Iron Town, from the heart of star” she stated and took another step forward “It was made to kill demon-gods,” She stepped again “Just like you!” The beast roared, the Princess could feel the heat from its belly and the stink of carrion in the wind, but she stood firm. She wiped away her tears “It is time you paid for your crimes!”
“Bah! I have committed no crime!” it roared “I am Okkoto! I am a god! I am law unto myself. I answer to n…”
“YOU WILL ANSWER TO ME!” screamed The Princess as she stepped closer still “You killed my family you bastard!”
The gargantuan pig grunted “I have killed no humans…yet!”
The Princess raised her hand and pointed at the carcasses of the five giant wolves laying behind Okkoto, torn to shreds by the firey hooves and tusked attacks. Blood and fur scattered on the ground. “Those dogs,” snorted Okkoto “What of them?”
“They WERE my family!” The Princess crouched low and leapt into the air, her tears and her blade carried up by the wind “AND YOU WILL PAY PIG-GOD!”
"My young lover was chosen to make my brother angry, among other reasons, but I did not think he would be so brash. I thought he had gotten beyond that several decades ago, but I underestimated his anger over father giving me The Dragon Fangs, which will give me the power to find the form of our ancestors. Because he prefers the prestige of form over the power of function, my brother never bothered to learn what he had been given. He has only himself to blame for losing The Dragon Talon, but responsibility has never been his strength. Father told him this when he gave me the Fangs, and as usual, our aged father was right. He shouldn't have wagered with my boyfriend, over their fight. He thought it might come between us, but instead my eager lover immediately handed the blade over to me, smirking at my brother the whole time. This is when he became so murderously enraged, that he would later kill the boy's family.
"The Dragon Talon is special. It is the last of its kind to be unearthed from the honeycombed caverns of the dragon's lair. There are twenty-nine Talons in all, five of which are enchanted fakes, and the other twenty-four being real. They have been scattered throughout and beyond the empire, but if one were to possess four of them; four of the real ones - enough to represent one dragon paw - then they would become very powerful. If one could find them all, they could rule with no fear of opposition. With my brother'sTalon, I now have three - two real, and one fake - the boon of the last few centuries. Pitiful for so long a search, but a testament to how well they are hidden."
"Is that why we are here?" asked the escort. A few fat drops of rain began to fall. Just enough to be heard hitting the gravestones, but not quite enough to start getting wet. The escort opened his umbrella, and held it over the kneeling princess. "Is another Talon among these graves?"
The princess looked sorrowfully at the gravestone before her, and brought the handle of The Talon to her cheek, catching a tear and letting it soak into the soft, red ribbon that wrapped the handle. "No," she answered. "We are here, because I miss my lover. He has been gone for so long, chasing vengeance against my brother, but he can never succeed on his own. No one can kill the immortal, unless they have talked to death face-to-face."
The escort blanched. "Princess...please, no!"
"Do not fear. I am here to use the Talon, yes, but a dragon's talon does not just take life. It also has the power to give life. So I am here to raise my lover's sister, that she may enact his revenge, and satisfy his need to restore his family's honor. Although he has cast all other traditions aside, he still clings to that one."
Deep in the heart of the African jungle
Teeage, daughter of the tribal headsman, meditates in the cave of wisdom. Her senses are heightened to beyond normal in preparation of the coming fight.
She is aware of everything, the sacred paint symbols drying on her light skin, that would provide her strength. The coming darkness that would give her an edge. She could even feel the spirit of the jungle, and she knew it cared not who would win.
"It's time" Eldra the wise woman of the tribe says. "Your bodies sure and your minds quick, you will avenge you father or die trying. Whatever the outcome, you will restore order to the jungle"
"Your supposed to know these things Wise Woman" Teeage replies without opening her eyes.
"Your future is concealed. The jungle does not wish you to know". The old woman replies, sitting across from Teeage, her bones crackling from the effort. "Here" she offers am object wrapped in leopard skin. "This is the sacred blade, carved from the fallen star".
Teeage unwraps the bundle slowly, revealing a black blade, crudely formed, but very sharp.
"With this blade i shall cut out his heart and devour it before his spirit leaves" Teeage says, the blade reflected in her eyes, the tool of her revenge....
Teeage had been trained since youth to fight, To fight the beasts of the land, to fight rival tribes, and to fight for honor when necessary. She was well trained in use of the bow, and the spear, and the club. But she preferred her own hands when fighting, so that none of the glory of the win could go to the weapon. She had killed a man when she was fifteen, who was drunk on old fruit and thought to have her. She had killed a leopard when she was seventeen, another beast who had desired her body for other reasons. That battle had not been so easy, but she wore the scars on her side and thigh with pride. She had killed many since then, beast and tribesman, but the beast she would soon face was deadlier then them all.
"Don't underestimate him, he knows the jungle as well as you, or better. And if the chance to strike comes, take it. You will not get a second chance". Her final warning.
It's getting dark. Night comes early in the jungle. He should be getting back, but he waits. Something has been stalking him for some time now. Something very stealthy, like a jungle cat. But not a cat, any hungry cat would have attacked or moved on. So he waits. Knife drawn.
Then she steps from the brush, tall, strong. She unsheathes a black blade slowly.
"I have no fight with you Teeage. Your people need you, you should return to them". He doesn't want to fight, but he doesn't put his knife away either.
"I have a fight with you" She replies, "And today you die Tarzan".
The Long Snow
A blizzard had kicked up, the wind howled and the air stung the skin. She walked alone through the woods, wearing animal skins though it wasn’t the cold that was bothered her. The snow crunched beneath her feet; when she looked up she could see the faintest glimmer of light from a nearby town.
“Just a little farther.” She said in a weak voice.
She had traveled far. Done things she couldn’t hope to forgive herself for she moved onward. The wind picked up and shrieked through the path she found herself on. “You know there’s a toll, Miss.” She heard as she passed a tree.
She continued to walk; just wanting to get by. From behind a tree nearest to her two men had stepped in front of her. Of course the path had been dangerous up until this point, though the danger of it all had subsided and turned repetitive. “Make it easy pay the toll.”
She bowed her head and whispered to herself, knowing that she would have no choice. “Forgive me for the things I cannot change…”
Why fight it so hard? “Hey I’m talking to you!” One of the men growled.
She looked up at the individuals that blocked her path and in an almost pleading voice she said, “Please I let me by! I have nothing for you.” The moisture in her eyes were stung by the cold and she tried to force herself passed the men only to be thrown back with great force from the both of them.
She hit the ground hard, the snow offering no break in the fall. Come on, do what you are compelled to do. One of the men smiled, his teeth were black and a foul odor wafted from his mouth. “If you can’t pay the toll, lady…”
Her body started to tremble. Tears streamed from her eyes and froze in the cold. She let out a small groan that had the effect of making the smiling man get closer. He dropped on top of her; straddling her waist he was heavy. He opened his mouth and leaned close to her ear. “I suppose there are other ways.”
Faster than either man could react, the sound of a dagger or sword being unsheathed rang through the howling wind. Red splashed her face and stained the snow, it was warm. The man rolled off of her, blood seeped from a large gash on his throat. She got to her feet and picked up a hand full of snow to wash her face.
“Forgive me for the things I cannot change, I repent the things I am compelled to do. “ She said in a hard voice. The man in front of her couldn’t understand what was happening. He was alone, left in absolute horror. She prayed it would not come to this, she begged for a reprieve. These were the things she could not change.
What twisted fate fastens to the destinies of those so coldly intertwined by fear and despair?
Gyrazu had spoken this same ancient utterance, head bowed to the earth, as the girl made an end of announcing the course of her future actions. He knew of the dark one. Gyrazu knew its bleak and unimaginable power. It suffered even her one love, the greatest warrior in the Kingdom, not to escape from its shadowy grasp. Elder Gyrazu had warned them both of the futility of warring against it. He spoke of an immortal force, an abominable and unworldly spirit. It devours all. It becomes all. But could it be that a maiden, bound by the contentious forces of passion and regret, would yet face such a dark? Her People and her honour was what was instilled in her mind from when her eyes first shimmered with the fullness of life. And though she had trained until her bones caved in from beneath her, her mind forsook to imagine the consequences of the two ultimate choices the girl now faced.
In the absence of the night she stole away. Her years of training afforded her to bypass the current watch of guards encompassing the Shrine of Ages. It held the only hope of saving all that she loved. And when wielded correctly, the power to restore all that she had lost. The Crimson Dagger. The same dagger used by All-Warrior Tenzu, who first bound this dark foe in its cavernous keep. The age of immortals had long since passed, and the energies contained therein would overwhelm the very fabric of any mortal when summoning such power. The cold needles of rain struck swiftly against the fair beauty of her skin, as she knelt before the altar. Gyrazu would never allow it. And so, she remained frozen there for to pay a fleeting respect, and a final farewell. And as a shadow disappears under the changing gaze of the moonlight, she too made her leave.
As she flew from building to building, treetop to treetop, she was certain to keep the Dagger close to her heart. If she was to end the whole dark affair, she would have to strike quickly and with hair splitting precision. The night air turned thick and heavy. She could sense it was near. She floated down from the last standing tree onto the bare earth, razed with dark energy. It would appear that time does stand still when in the few last seconds of life. The space around her was overtaken by shadow. The very air she had to breathe slipping away from her lungs. And then, she heard its voice. This was the time, the moment of truth- her final test. Holding the Dagger, she turned about to face the nameless darkness. Her immortal adversary...
What twisted fate fastens to the destinies of those so coldly intertwined by fear and despair? Gyrazu said she had the choice between death and life.
And so, she chose death.