Post a Story

The True Brother To Fyzenguard

1 Star2 Stars3 Stars4 Stars5 Stars (4 votes, average: 5.00 out of 5)
Loading...

Born in the great and snowbound kingdom of Fyztendonaldhymer the lands lay of snow and pale greaves as a son to the throne were sought and born. The small babe rests into her mother’s pale white arms. Forging the growing love for her third child had filled her soft and magical heart for the babe. The mother’s eyes gleam at the pale skinned albino child as the eyes of the newly and raw son shined a crimson red. The head of the mother cuddles down to the child but not all spirits were high for the child that would grow to become weak due to his albinism. A male who seemed to be a father took the child from the mother and passed it down into a daunting man’s arms who rested in great black robes with silver lining across his waist. With a small cunning voice the father says in a whisper* ¨Take the child…leave him dead for the wolfs.¨ * Crys could be heard from the mother in her weakened state from bearing the birth of the newling. No actions could be taken from the mother in this weakened state as the man in the robes runs off with the child. Instead of listening to the king he runs off himself with the babe with a great heart for it. How sour the king had been towards this child and now the male would not take any action but to raise the child of his own and teach him the times of old.

Many many years pass the given child to grow and figure out his weekend state, however, this only gave the child a great mind for prosperity. Growing he had learned a little art of great and arcane magics but yet held true to his heritage of lined fighters. Although his strength did not grow skill began to form, growing with his mindset of the world. Once he had grown into a man he ventured far for the reach of the known dungeon of the Iron Mountains. Wanting to make a title for himself and show people and his father who he was unknowing of what he could do good and be strong in this ruthless world of disaster and disease. One day the great pale-skinned warrior has begun to grow weary on his long years of searching around the mountains. He has traveled around and if not many times trying to find the entrance of the I’ll Whitted mountains* “Another wasted day”* Gabriel speaks out to himself.”* With a small sigh, he lifts his canteen of spring water and drains it hafely before looking down. Suddenly the area around began to shake vibrantly. This had Gabriel in a clustered field of worry as he jumps to his feet and ducks. Before him, the ground began to split and crust in front of him creating a passage of the great mossy stone. After it’s completion the ground ceased to grumble and moan. Standing a feeling of distress and passion ran over his mind and body.* ¨By the ways of old and you’re, it has come to me…the passage has appeared before me.¨ *The dark measures creep down the old and forgotten passage that had finally shown itself to a weak and albino individual. His mind races as he begins to step down the stone slabs that lead down into the Oblivious abyss. Ascending farther down the old and mossy stone stairs a cold atmosphere seemed to engulf the pale male. Long moments of streaming down the staircase the pale male comes to a sudden stop. A dark shade casts over the deep and Whitted passage as a cold ascension follows Gabriel. The male’s eyes run around the shadowed passage. With a large thrumming door began to appear popping into place spontaneously. Six to his left, six to his right and then six in front of him. Gastley eyes cast over the ironed doors as a smile rages over Gabriel’s mouth. Looking at all the doors he began to walk with a young feeble-minded decision taking the door which forewarned the directed in front of him. Slowly turning the knob the rust squealed out with scraping to bear it’s rough opening from it’s misdirected and long years of uselessness. Entering through the door he would find a room not so different from the other casting a faint shadow of abyss. Not so much scared yet he looked left which he would find his crimson red ears bear the passing churning which leads to a great carved sword under a malevolent moon of great ice. The sword floated but laid in front of the moon caressingly. Then followed a small sun of great heat and the same as the other sword it had laid but was risen by the power of the great sun’s heat. Both of the mighty swords were differentiated from a line the was carved unwillingly in the middle of the dry stone. After a long observation of the two powerful looking swords his eyes drifted to his right too which carvings lay. Walking closer a figure of two men raises the great and mighty swords high in the sky. A light snow had been carved as it seemed too fall and whisper it’s a great victory of its battles. Then the following of the men lead to another man of dark mystic desires. Squatted he cunningly leaned against a sword of black mist and grey frosts of old. As much as he looked evil still the born darkness was grown too it’s peak. A small grievous smile was placed on the dark man as he stared at the two warriors. After a long moment of the graces of the carvings, a shielded voice echoed in a sparking manner continuing. Then turning his eyes something hit him from behind and pinned Gabrial down too the damp and cold ground. This figure leaned down Gabriel’s ear and a distinctive and distorted whisper forces from its nonexistent mouth* Coming here was a chained choice but now you have burned your bridges from any forms of fate. Now you are left with the scraps of one path.¨ * Gabriel peered in great fear as his legs lift and thrust an action making the figure shoot up into the air and fall to the ground with a large clank. Gabriel slips up and unsheathes his sword only too find the object was an empty pit of plate armor. With a great grit and groan, he kicks the armor with a violent force. The armor moves through the air and pieces off smashing into a wall.* ¨What divination is this?¨ * Gabriel speaks out with a small lust. A fleeing feeling small of antipathy withholds Gabriel. At the sudden, the whisper fills the room with adjoining audible whispers that could and flow the room.*BAM the sound of the door shutting behind him could be heard* ¨Noo…NOO!!” *Gabriel screams out running and trying too open the door. Then suddenly the door disperses without visual effects. Slamming once more he could feel the stone wall upon his arms. Down into a pitiful disgrace, Gabriel knew that this was nothing at any regular sort of normal, nor was this a figure of reality upon his own. Twisting and turning seemed to beforld the room to find two more doors appear right in front of Gabriel.  Now scared he thought there must be a way out. Maybe it had fazed into a maze he thought. Opening the door he would walk into a rather plain but stone room as the last. The walls now held smooth with no carving or chizilings of sorts. Flashed his eyes a sudden urge of distress fell upon himself. More doors had appeared and nothing seemed to interest the room. After several great hours, he found himself traveling through the same room and entering the same doors over and over until he came into a room with a large room. At the end of the daunting room, a pile or more like a throne of bones lay. Skulls piled upon each other perfectly but decreased as they were too be like chipped stone. Closely his dark red crimson hues connect with a figure of what seemed to be a sword. Gaining closer and cutting the distance between the pile of blackened skulls the sword now rested truly in Gabriel’s sight. A mistful gaze of darkness flows from the sword as a sudden rumble of the room would reveal a petite and damn full women’s voice. The voice was young and smoothing but also distressful too the soul as her words reveal,* ¨Gabriel…Gabriel…pick me up. Please?.”*The voice says in a wished tone* ¨We would be perfect…your dule will with my strength” *Gabriel takes a step back unbearably surprised.* ¨A talking sword¨ * A small chuckle rings from his mouth* ¨Never¨ *He hissed in a unwraith mood*¨ I think I am going insane”* Gabriel says to himself. Now the thought of leaving bared his graced mind but as he opened the door the sight of a giant mouthful beast filled the next door in a stone chamber.Green filled the beast’s body and four devilish claws peared on the hands of the beast. Gabriel yells out in thorned terror as he slams the door in front of him and quickly looks around. Hearing the creature’s strength against the door he knew that his own sword would not do any good with the tan of the beast. His face had forged itself upon fear. Quickly his eyes grasp onto the black sword glowing a dark red color that faded into the stone surface. Knowing this was the only way he paces to the sword and after the beasts break through the door. At the same time, Gabriel pulls the sword from the great throne made of hell flamed blackened skulls that wear weary of their slumber.

Accepting the swords lust a great strength filled Gabriel. The strength felt so good but yet so unlawful. Turning quickly he would squat down dodging the great swipe from the untitled beast. With the head of the sword, Gabriel knocks into the stomach of the beast making it fall over. Gabriel has a great insting and follows the beast jumping onto his chest and stab the raging sword right into the beasts chest. A weakened hand claws for Gabriel again but swoops past his head.

Clearly a faint laughing of the same petiet voice could be heard from the sword as it gleamed it’s red light, of course, Gabriel knew he had fallen for the trick of the devilish sword.* ¨Bastere…Bitch¨ * Gabriel yells out again putting the sword down too only to find it back in his skinny hands. A moment passes of trying to leave the sword but it always appears back in his hand. Slowly Gabriel felt his faith dwindling to a peit. Again the ground rumbles and like last a great staircase forms leading up, however. A small sight of a glow from the sun could be seen and as he began to walk enfeeblement cast over his mind and blackness woven into his eyes as now he unaware himself unconscious.

All the original creators of the Fyzenguard story/ world. A new era of a brotherhood of chaos has arisen thought the original story. The writers respectfully give other readers/writers a small peak of the large story.—TRUE CANNON—

[email protected]/Fyzenguard The Giant Slayer

[email protected]/ Angelo Reeves

[email protected]/Gabriel The Skull Crusher

    1 Comment
    1. Zero 1 month ago

      This does put a smile on my face…

    Leave a reply

    134 Views
    © RolePages / PebbleArt Inc. 2009 - 2019

    Log in with your credentials

    or    

    Forgot your details?

    Create Account

    Skip to toolbar