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decided to write a very short opening to some story - dunno what its about yet - only took about 3 mins but see what think. i might do a full bit later
Heinrich cracked lips gasped for air, sheer terror compelling him to keep going, but it was no use. The thick, glutinous mud squelched underfoot, clutching at him, dragging him downwards towards a murky fate. He strained desperately like a wounded animal mewling in fear but with every motion the mire sucked him down, until, with an obscene plop, his head vanished under the surface. He died with a silent scream on his lips as his final wail was obscured by the foul brown mud clogging up his throat.
did another 15 mins and have fiinshed. plz give me your comments. good, bad, awful?
Heinrichâ€™s cracked lips gasped for air, sheer terror compelling him to keep going, but it was no use. The thick, glutinous mud squelched underfoot, clutching at him, dragging him downwards towards a murky fate. He strained desperately like a wounded animal mewling in fear but with every motion the mire sucked him down, until, with an obscene plop, his head vanished under the surface. He died with a silent scream on his lips as his final wail was obscured by the liquid mud clogging up his throat.
It was a cool, breezy day in the rye fields of Chaville and the peasants toiled, backs straining as they planted sharpened stakes into the gravely soil. As the Duke passed he surveyed their handiwork from his armoured mount. All dropped instantly in utter subservience, their furrowed brows and rugged jaws squelching into the wet turf as they prostrated themselves in both awe and terror of their Lord. One was too slowâ€¦
The last sound he heard was the swishing noise of the dukeâ€™s mace as it streaked through air. Only his colleagues heard the sickening thud as the blade continued its passage through flesh, blood, and bone.
Dawn came and with it came the sounds of war drums. Duke Louis surveyed his battle line, armoured fist gripping his stirrups as his restless steed pawed at the ground. Knights clad in shining mail and steel hauberks provided a stark contrast with the ramshackle rows of peasant bowmen sheltering behind stales like the cowards they were. Still in numbers they could prove useful. Louis could see the fear in their eyes as they listened to the rolling, incessant beat of drums which resonated across the plain like thunder. But there was nothing to be seen as black thunderclouds crept across the skyline like a plague, blackening the horizon and blocking off the rays of the sun. The with an almighty â€˜CRACKâ€™ a lightning bolt burned its way down from the heavens, illuminating the insidious sea of chaos framed against the ridge.
From the horde a huge frame emerged. The drum roll quickened as he drew a long serrated sword, engraved runes glowing with an otherworldly light. With an ear shattering screech the being thrust his sword forwards and the sea of warriors hurled themselves forwards shouting insanely.
Draghuul, Chaos Lord, champion of Slaanesh watched as arrows burst through guts, felling the lightly armoured northmen in their hundreds. Chariots foundered upon the lines of stakes, embowelling the riders. Only a few made it through casing havoc as cruel scything blades sliced bloody lines through ranks of peasants who turned and fled only to be cut down.
â€˜Where is my cousin, we have little time leftâ€™ shouted Louis at the messenger
â€˜I,..I donâ€™t know my Lordâ€¦the reinforcements have not arrived yetâ€™ replied the trembling serf
â€˜Dammit Heinrich, a curse on you for your incompetenceâ€™ shouted louis as a cloud of despair fell over him. He had despatched Heinrich, his most trusted knight and his closest cousin to send a message to the neighbouring dukedom for aid. Now that none was coming this day was most certainly lost. But he would die with honorâ€¦.
Draghuul had joined the fray. Around him slanneshi daemons cavorted in obscene pleasures as they delicately sliced human flesh, relishing the pain of arrows puncturing their alluring yet repulsive forms. Sword wielded in intricate circles he sliced his way through footsoldiers, attention fixed on the bretonnain duke and his retinue who were thundering towards them, lances glinting even in the dim light. He would relish this.
Louis and his retinue spurred their snorting mounts onwards, a golden aura surrounding their holy forms. The lady was with them thought Louis, there was still hope yet. That was when they rode into a wall of scent, wafting towards them from the lines of foul deamons. But on closer inspection they were beautiful, graceful, alluring. The way they twirled and sliced was scintillating to the eyes. The fumes emanating from their divine forms was titillating, an aura of acquiescence filling his mind. NOâ€¦. his will was too strong as he broke out of his reverie to find himself walking forwards, hand outstretched towards the enemy. The willpower of his companions was not so strong and he watched in both horror and fascination as they prostrated themselves before the deamonettes, screaming in pleasure as blades slid lovingly along their flesh.
Draghuul strode towards the duke, until he stood towering over him, immersing him in shadow. Morkir, the deamon blade thirsted for blood. With each cut of flesh the glowing runes on its surface absorbed more blood increasing its power until it cleaved through anything it encountered. He would show this human the meaning of desire but first he would prove the weakness of the human race and the inevitability of chaos.
Louis drew his sword and lunged forwards only to stab thin air. He whirled, panting and lunged again, but this time, reacting faster than any human, the creatures serrated blade rose, the spikes turning from metal to purple, wormlike abominations with sharp fangs who wrapped around his blade and tugged it out of his hands. He was thrown backwards into the mud, looking up to see a breastplate made of metal darker than night engraved with gold, above which two dazzling green eyes gazed out of visor slits. The swords serrated edges had turned back into metal as it swept towards him, bursting into his gut. Grunting in pain he felt the swords runes burn inside him as the living spikes writhed and twisted within him, devouring his life force, as his soul was sucked up and forever bound in torment inside the daemon sword of morkir.
Nice ending but this story is far too jumpy. There is no cohesion. You need to work on connecting the scenes better. Also, the adjectives and adverbs (I think thats what they are) sound rather forced. Work on overall flow of story.
â€œCry â€˜Havocâ€™ and let slip the dogs of war!â€? - Julius Caesar, Act III, Scene I
very good for first time fluff
What is life but a series of tests?- excerpted from more than mortal
Quantity has a Quality all its own- Stalin
Good, especially for a begginer.
A Rhino? SLOTH!
nice, but it is too erratic. and Heinrich is an Empire name, try bretand or summat.
Children in the dark cause accidents, accidents in the dark cause childen.
Its intresting, the whole army died caus of some mud!!!! bad luck i say!
I HAVE NO FEAR FOR I AM FEAR INCARNATE!!!-Cpt Gabriel Angleios
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