Well now, what a day... It started with a Subway breakfast, which is always good; not had one of those for AGES! I then bought two very special people two very special presents. I'm sorry for the turn yesterday's blog took, but I just got a little sidetracked and, well, stunned really... But today I'm feeling something that I haven't written for a fair while, despite it being perhaps my forte in my opinion, fantasy. So here we go again!
There resounded the clash of sword on sword for miles around, but not a soul was nearby to hear the two combatants collide. One, a large bear of a man from the southern mountain tribes of Kashban, hefting two axes the size of grindstones with each and wearing the hides of mountain Elegans reinforced with the strongest of bronze chain links. The other, a smaller, nimbler man. A swordmage from the eastern coastal town of Redrinay, darting in and out of the huge arcing swings of the behemoth's axes, his fine, straight bladed sabre glistening with an ethereal green glow, highlighting his slender elfin features and reflecting off his own cured leather armour.
The tribesman seemed to have the upper hand, the smaller man not able to land a single blow and cursing out of frustration. "HA! Foolish needle-wielder. Ye'd 'ave more chance against me if ye'd brought a real weapon an' not that piece o'tin..." He brought both axes down, splintering and tearing the ground before him as the lithe figure leapt deftly away from the blow, almost as if dancing aside. The swordmage paused, crouched, his body very still as though frozen. He fell silent. The sound of the breeze was all that passed between these two foes. The swordmage rose, his eyes opening and flickering with an ancient, burning white light which seemed to pass along his arm in arcs of crackling energy and forming a sheath of iridescent light, shifting from white, to silver, through to blues and greys. He smirked "Aladoth of Kashban, I pity you..." He dropped to a forward weighted stance as though preparing a thrust "...for this day, is your last." Then, within the blinking of an eye, he had vanished. Aladoth looked around and tried to turn, but could not. He felt his body become rigid. He looked down to see the point of the swordmage's blade jutting out from his chest and frost forming across his armour. That was the last saw, for moments later he was encased within a tomb of ice. The swordmage slid his blade from the block and cleaned it, the light subsiding from both his blade and his eyes before he turned, knocking the block over with the gentlest of nudges. Aladoth shattered, the remnants of his face forever frozen in the tortured, silent scream of his final breath.
Tomorrow, I plan on carrying on with the Entwined story, but I just felt like some old school fantasy tonight. Hope you enjoyed it!
Oyasuminsai!
Craiggy.
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