Post by Ryuuza on Apr 11, 2005 23:27:49 GMT -5
"So what the hell is it you plan to do!!!"
The voice echoed in the small, quickly assembled headquarters of the resistance. The angry leader was slamming his fist repeatedly with every syllable of his sentence. "Now is the time to strike!" The abrupt comment was accidently spurted out by one of the men at the far end of the table. In pure fury, the leader threw a dagger at him, the blade soaring though the air and landing just in front of him, piercing the solid oak table. "You do not say such thing if you do not have the vigour to carry them out. Not with ten thousand men could we stop this attack force that marches towards out glorious king's fort!"
"Then what about with one man..." A calm, cold and collected shout came from the man who had just opened the door. "What if one man were to take the troops that were able, flank the dark hordes as they lay siege to the castle and make them perish instantly..." The leader laughed, spraying those close to him with a malt beer. "You sound like someone who is wise, yet your arrogance has no place here!" The man sighed, throwing an object that he had kept in a small bag tied to his waist. A head came from the bag, falling out in mid air and landing so close that the leader could smell the rotting flesh. "That was one of their captains, taken by my sword." The man did indeed have a giant claymore, strapped to his back as of now. What could be seen of the blade was a red glow. "I can promise you the defeat of that small skirmisher army, all I need are men bold enough to come with me..." A small dwarf stood up on his chair, now at shoulder length with the other men. "The lad has a point! I will muster my men and go with you!" The dwarf jumped the perilous height from the chair to the floor and scrambled out the building. "So, do I have any more willing to fall for their cause." A large man grunted in affirmation, walking out to bring together those who the dwarf could not find. Soon, there were rumours spreading around the camp. Talk of a suicidal man, who had just been appointed the leader of the men who were not too mutilated to fight.
Sure enough, the man stood at the front of what was a force of one thousand. The leader was dumbfounded, astounded at the high morale that came from the appearance of this lone warrior. "So then, warrior!" He shouted over the anxious and scared mumblings of the army. "Do you have a name!?" The man sighed, throwing back his hood. His face looked as if it had not seen conflict or battle at all
"You may call me Rowland..."
The voice echoed in the small, quickly assembled headquarters of the resistance. The angry leader was slamming his fist repeatedly with every syllable of his sentence. "Now is the time to strike!" The abrupt comment was accidently spurted out by one of the men at the far end of the table. In pure fury, the leader threw a dagger at him, the blade soaring though the air and landing just in front of him, piercing the solid oak table. "You do not say such thing if you do not have the vigour to carry them out. Not with ten thousand men could we stop this attack force that marches towards out glorious king's fort!"
"Then what about with one man..." A calm, cold and collected shout came from the man who had just opened the door. "What if one man were to take the troops that were able, flank the dark hordes as they lay siege to the castle and make them perish instantly..." The leader laughed, spraying those close to him with a malt beer. "You sound like someone who is wise, yet your arrogance has no place here!" The man sighed, throwing an object that he had kept in a small bag tied to his waist. A head came from the bag, falling out in mid air and landing so close that the leader could smell the rotting flesh. "That was one of their captains, taken by my sword." The man did indeed have a giant claymore, strapped to his back as of now. What could be seen of the blade was a red glow. "I can promise you the defeat of that small skirmisher army, all I need are men bold enough to come with me..." A small dwarf stood up on his chair, now at shoulder length with the other men. "The lad has a point! I will muster my men and go with you!" The dwarf jumped the perilous height from the chair to the floor and scrambled out the building. "So, do I have any more willing to fall for their cause." A large man grunted in affirmation, walking out to bring together those who the dwarf could not find. Soon, there were rumours spreading around the camp. Talk of a suicidal man, who had just been appointed the leader of the men who were not too mutilated to fight.
Sure enough, the man stood at the front of what was a force of one thousand. The leader was dumbfounded, astounded at the high morale that came from the appearance of this lone warrior. "So then, warrior!" He shouted over the anxious and scared mumblings of the army. "Do you have a name!?" The man sighed, throwing back his hood. His face looked as if it had not seen conflict or battle at all
"You may call me Rowland..."