View Full Version : My Book (Titleless as yet)

11th September 2004, 08:25 PM
NOTE: This is a book i am working on just for fun....note that this isnt Uurion as the character i play in BA is. I have named the main character in this Uurion for lack of another name...suggestions are welcome...also as you can tell, this isnt all of the book...this is as far as I have gotten, and i'll post more when i write more...i am posting this now cause projects on my comp tend to loose themselves right when i need them...:)

A Dark, and Dusty Labyrinth
Long forgotten, Long Forsaken
Long Suffered, The Ninth, and Tenth
Sacrificed, Wrongfully Taken

Part 1
The Suffering

He studied the fog that obscured the midnight darkness of the forest around him. The Scent of Lavender and roses hung in the air, a Breif respite from the overwhelming smell of pine. The full moon lent a dark neon blue to the fog that drifted hither and thither about the small clearing in the wood. The sounds of the Forest echoed dimmly in the back of his mind. The hooting of Nocturnal Owls. The Howling of wolves in the distance. The steady dripping of a nearby stream. The hypnotic humming of a steady breeze ruffling pine trees, soft enough to only stir the Fog, instead of blow it away. The eerie chirping of crikets. All of it ran together to form a surreal surrounding. Beauty and Death mixed together into a landscape that stirred the primal longing in even the most intelligent of beasts.
The beauty of the Forest of Dornwood surrounded him in the most tranquil of ways. Uurion had never seen beauty such as this in any other place. An endless vista of trees spread out before him, houses and buildings behind him. The Watchtower he occupied was a wooden platform built onto the side of an enormous Oak tree, well over two hundred feet tall. The City behind him was likewise built in the trees and made of wood, such was the reason the High Elves of Dornwood were referred to as Wood Elves.
The Watchtower he stood atop was positioned to look out to the south of Numenion, toward Erosa, the land of the Dark Elves. Many millennia into the past, a great war was started over petty differences in opinions, and led to the rending of the Elven Race. The Northern half of Numenion held roughly the same beliefs and were able to form an alliance called the United Elven Nations. The same held true for the Southern half of Numenion which became known as the Dark Elven Empire. After the war ended, with the High Elves victorious, the Dark Elves retreated into Erosa, Doleri, and Mire. Even after tens of peaceful negotiation missions, the Dark Elves managed to remain elusive and could not be found. Worried that another war was brewing, the High Elves decided map out Erosa, in case a tactical strike was ever needed. This, however, turned out to be an impossible task. Every time a High Elf came near the border to Erosa, he became inexplicably confused and turned around. After twenty tries the High Elves gave up and attributed the effects to Sorcery.
Uurion had joined the Warrior Caste at an early age, after his father had died by the enemies hand in a random engagement. For twelve years Uurion had been trained to single-handedly lay waste to whole armies. And for twelve years he had been assigned to the Watchtowers, meanwhile the Dark Elves grew more bold and began overthrowing small encampments. For twelve years Uurion had been trained as a captain, but never given the opportunity to prove himself as a true warrior.
Uurion was relaxing in a chair when the sounds of the forest began to pull gently at his waking mind. The steady dripping of the stream began to ebb away at his resolve, and he soon found himself drifting among his unconscious mind. In a sudden flash of light, the peace of the forest was washed away in a violent explosion. Flame spidered up the trees in the blink of an eye, leaving devastation in itís wake. The smell of burning pine was as sharp as a drawn dagger. Arrows sailed through the air, landing in random locations, trees, houses, people. Somewhere in the village, someone screamed, a long wail of pain or anguish. Smoke roiled up through the branches of the trees, flooding the air with un-breathable fumes. From the south the demons came, pouring forth from the land of the damned.
With the first explosion the ripped through the air, Uurion shot to his feet, groggy and panicked. Immediately he began rubbing at his eyes, which were stinging and burning from the thick black smoke billowing up from the forest floor. The sounds and smoke left him confused and disoriented. As he sucked in the fumes trying to breathe, he realized that if he inhaled again, he would be dead before he could so much as raise his sword. Looking back across the six foot by six foot platform, he spotted his Katana.
In a blur of movement he ran towards his sword. As he reached it, he dove into a forward tumble, bringing himself right over the top of his sword, which he grasped, Before somersaulting over the edge of the Platform. Although the floor of the forest was over two hundred feet straight down, it was only thirty or so feet straight down to the floor of the tree city. As he hit the ground, he tucked himself into a tuck-and- roll, to avoid jarring his legs and hips. When he stood up, and looked around, the daunting task before him settled into his focus. This wasnít the small skirmish he had been expecting, this was a full fledged battle. Hundreds of Dark Elves poured into the city, their dark bluish skin almost hiding them against the night.

12th September 2004, 10:32 PM
that was one of the two beginnings i wrote....i am teetering back and forth between that and this....

On came the winter, a relentless hunter searching for its prey. Already it had claimed the trees, stripped them bare of their protective coats of green and violet leaves. The scent of snow filled the air, taunting the nose with a beauty that could never be captured. An endless array of blues, reds, and golds, filled the sky, as the Sun sank slowly to its bed beyond the hills to the west.
It was the golden hour, the time when the sun was dull enough to be looked at directly, allowing an unobstructed view of the sunset. The clouds that hung in the sky cast dark shadows, leaving their bulk to be a dark blue, and their edges illuminated to a gentle golden hue by the setting sun. The hills rose up into the air, almost as if to welcome home the great orb of fire that gave light to the world. As the sun sank slowly past the horizon, and the twilight crept over the land, the clouds began to release their burden. Slowly at first, then faster and faster, the snowflakes began to drift toward the ground.
Turning his head. Uurion looked to the south. Distantly he could see the peaks of the Mountains of Discontentment, named so for the way the hills and trees dropped away far from the mountains, leaving them forever separate and alone. This lent to the mountains a sort of saddened aura, as if the mountains themselves cried out in the pain of loneliness. At the peaks of the mountains, the snow remained year round, so close to the sun, yet unaffected, almost as if it were in another world, vaguely seen, as if looking through a window.
The enchanting scene that lay before him made Uurion wish that he would be staying for awhile, and not leaving in the morning, as were his orders. It had been about three hours before that Uurion received his latest orders, he was to leave immediately, his destination the woodland realm of Dornwood. He had been told that his mission was to protect a caravan of supplies against Dark Elven raids. More and more frequently, the Dark Elves had been attacking, as of late. Their anger and resentment towards the High Elven race had been inspired by a war that had ended millennia ago. The High Elven people had long ago forgotten their bitterness, but for some reason, the Dark Elves were not willing to bury the hatchet.
The war that sundered the Elven race into two had begun well before historical documentation began, leading the High Elves to only remember half the war, when they began to record occurrences half-way through the war. The Legends said that the Dark Elves fought with a darkness that had never been seen before. They were a brutal enemy, taking no prisoners, but instead killing to the last man. The Legends also said that the Dark Elves had no honor, and that they would lay siege and destruction even to farm and country villages that had no wartime significance. The future had looked grim for the High Elves, as they had been steadily beaten back into the land of Ivardrim, the historical lands of the Elves. Pulling together for one last assault, the High Elves managed to trick, trap, and destroy the largest group of Dark Elves. From that point on, the High Elves took the aggressive stance, until they had pushed the last of the Dark Elves into the Land of Erosa. The land of Erosa was the very southern tip of the continent of Numenion. It was an evil land by nature, filled with poisoned plants, active volcanos, and dangerous predators. The sky was always black, clouded and polluted by the never ending stream of ash that issues from the active volcanoes.