Post by SpearralSquid on Aug 6, 2014 11:13:14 GMT -8
The continuation of my storyline in the Lands of Roawia.
Alone in the Dark
LoR - Alone In The Dark by Brickninja!, on Flickr
The cold air rushed past Sir Ian Ferguson as he fell. Panic overtook him. I am going to die, at but 22 winters, he thought. The blackness engulfed him, and all his memories began flashing before his eyes. He knew the end would come within a few seconds. Suddenly he was interrupted by the jarring shock of icy water. Confused, he realized he was no longer falling, he stood up and glanced around. Nothing but darkness. He seemed to be standing up to his waist in the water. "Hello?" he called. Only an echo responded. He heard water periodically dripping. I must be in a cave, he thought. He shivered. He had landed fully in the water, and it chilled him to the bone. His broken shoulder also pained him. As his eyes gradually adjusted to the darkness, he could barely make out a thin shoreline nearby. He trudged towards it, teeth chattering. His senses tensed as he realized there could be anything down in the cave. Trolls, wild wolves, creatures yet undiscovered, he thought nervously. He jumped as something splashed heavily behind him. He turned and just barely caught a glimpse of something sinking to the bottom. Definitely not a fish, he thought, then swallowed at the thought of untamed fish growing to monstrous sizes that might lurk in underground lakes. Taking a risk, he plunged his hand up to the shoulder into the water, and grabbed hold of something sharp. Resisting the urge to jerk back his hand, he pulled it out of the water. He was holding the blade of a sword, his sword! How it had gotten down here, he didn't know; whether his sorrowful companions had dropped it down as tribute to their fallen knight or if it had simply slid across the snow, he was thankful to have it. with his newfound courage in the form of self-defense, he waded to the shore. Just as he stepped onto the muddy rocks, a horrible screech made him jump. An orc rushed out of the dark, not ten feet away! Sir Ian had only ever seen an orc once, when he was but a youth, the village patrol had marched back into the streets with the corpse of a marauding orc. The soldiers had put its head on a pike; a grizzly sight over the market. Sir Ian thrust his sword forwards, impaling the orc. It screeched again and fell dead. Another, larger orc wearing armor charged out of the gloom with a long knife. Sir Ian instinctively wheeled his claymore through the air and brought it down on the foul creature's neck. Hearing more screeches throughout the cave system, Sir Ian did the only thing he could: Plunge headlong into the darkness, hoping desperately find his way out of the labyrinth.
Alone in the Dark
LoR - Alone In The Dark by Brickninja!, on Flickr
The cold air rushed past Sir Ian Ferguson as he fell. Panic overtook him. I am going to die, at but 22 winters, he thought. The blackness engulfed him, and all his memories began flashing before his eyes. He knew the end would come within a few seconds. Suddenly he was interrupted by the jarring shock of icy water. Confused, he realized he was no longer falling, he stood up and glanced around. Nothing but darkness. He seemed to be standing up to his waist in the water. "Hello?" he called. Only an echo responded. He heard water periodically dripping. I must be in a cave, he thought. He shivered. He had landed fully in the water, and it chilled him to the bone. His broken shoulder also pained him. As his eyes gradually adjusted to the darkness, he could barely make out a thin shoreline nearby. He trudged towards it, teeth chattering. His senses tensed as he realized there could be anything down in the cave. Trolls, wild wolves, creatures yet undiscovered, he thought nervously. He jumped as something splashed heavily behind him. He turned and just barely caught a glimpse of something sinking to the bottom. Definitely not a fish, he thought, then swallowed at the thought of untamed fish growing to monstrous sizes that might lurk in underground lakes. Taking a risk, he plunged his hand up to the shoulder into the water, and grabbed hold of something sharp. Resisting the urge to jerk back his hand, he pulled it out of the water. He was holding the blade of a sword, his sword! How it had gotten down here, he didn't know; whether his sorrowful companions had dropped it down as tribute to their fallen knight or if it had simply slid across the snow, he was thankful to have it. with his newfound courage in the form of self-defense, he waded to the shore. Just as he stepped onto the muddy rocks, a horrible screech made him jump. An orc rushed out of the dark, not ten feet away! Sir Ian had only ever seen an orc once, when he was but a youth, the village patrol had marched back into the streets with the corpse of a marauding orc. The soldiers had put its head on a pike; a grizzly sight over the market. Sir Ian thrust his sword forwards, impaling the orc. It screeched again and fell dead. Another, larger orc wearing armor charged out of the gloom with a long knife. Sir Ian instinctively wheeled his claymore through the air and brought it down on the foul creature's neck. Hearing more screeches throughout the cave system, Sir Ian did the only thing he could: Plunge headlong into the darkness, hoping desperately find his way out of the labyrinth.