July 26, 2008
Chapter One: A rough start
1:30 AM | 
Posted by
pcbutler |
June 5th, 1563
A darkened figure sits slumped over on top a large piece of ruin.
"Rain. It's always raining. Can't remember the last day it was dry."
The figure sits up straight and holds his hand to the sky.
"At least the blood has finally washed away..."
He stands up. Around the figure are dozens of dead bodies clad in medieval armour. No wounds or blood can be seen. In the distance, a large fire can be seen with strange figures moving around it.
"Damn 'thropes. They never know when to leave things well enough alone."
He wraps a bloodstained cloak around himself and starts, half-sliding down a muddy embankment.
At the bottom, he spots a broken shield. Bits of white and brown fur clinging to the edges.
"I know you're there Joseph. You never were one to celebrate. I would suggest you get your 'people' and get to safe harbour."
A russle comes from a nearby bush. A low gruff voice whispers out.
"I'll get them when I'm damn well ready. They deserve to celebrate, given what's been happening to our kind!"
The cloaked figure turns around wielding a small sword.
"You know very well that this was Karen's fault. Had she just.."
A flurry of fur and claw whip by the figures face, bits of cloak and flesh trailing after.
"Mention Karen one more time and I'll make sure you never speak again!"
The figure raises his hand to wipe his face. A face pot marked with scars and open wounds. Small insects can be seen crawling in and around them. He wipes his face and sheaths his sword.
"Yes. I suppose I deserved that. What will you do then, Joseph? In a few hours, an army of them will arrive and wipe you out. We can't afford to lose another race."
Joseph stands from his hunched position. Long fur quickly retreating to bare flesh. He turns to face the figure. A worried and sorrowful gaze fills his now human face.
"I'll let them be for 30 minutes. It's been a long time since they last danced."
The figure put a hand on Josephs shoulder. Beatles escape from the cloak to fall to the ground.
"It will be a lot longer if they are caught. Take them to the docks. I have a ship there, the Lazerous..."
A smile crosses Josephs face.
"Your humour stinks..."
"I know. But it seemed to fit. The lazerous will take you to the continent. From there you should be safe... for a while."
A darkened figure sits slumped over on top a large piece of ruin.
"Rain. It's always raining. Can't remember the last day it was dry."
The figure sits up straight and holds his hand to the sky.
"At least the blood has finally washed away..."
He stands up. Around the figure are dozens of dead bodies clad in medieval armour. No wounds or blood can be seen. In the distance, a large fire can be seen with strange figures moving around it.
"Damn 'thropes. They never know when to leave things well enough alone."
He wraps a bloodstained cloak around himself and starts, half-sliding down a muddy embankment.
At the bottom, he spots a broken shield. Bits of white and brown fur clinging to the edges.
"I know you're there Joseph. You never were one to celebrate. I would suggest you get your 'people' and get to safe harbour."
A russle comes from a nearby bush. A low gruff voice whispers out.
"I'll get them when I'm damn well ready. They deserve to celebrate, given what's been happening to our kind!"
The cloaked figure turns around wielding a small sword.
"You know very well that this was Karen's fault. Had she just.."
A flurry of fur and claw whip by the figures face, bits of cloak and flesh trailing after.
"Mention Karen one more time and I'll make sure you never speak again!"
The figure raises his hand to wipe his face. A face pot marked with scars and open wounds. Small insects can be seen crawling in and around them. He wipes his face and sheaths his sword.
"Yes. I suppose I deserved that. What will you do then, Joseph? In a few hours, an army of them will arrive and wipe you out. We can't afford to lose another race."
Joseph stands from his hunched position. Long fur quickly retreating to bare flesh. He turns to face the figure. A worried and sorrowful gaze fills his now human face.
"I'll let them be for 30 minutes. It's been a long time since they last danced."
The figure put a hand on Josephs shoulder. Beatles escape from the cloak to fall to the ground.
"It will be a lot longer if they are caught. Take them to the docks. I have a ship there, the Lazerous..."
A smile crosses Josephs face.
"Your humour stinks..."
"I know. But it seemed to fit. The lazerous will take you to the continent. From there you should be safe... for a while."
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