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fortunatowrites · 3 years

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Brutak: Outcast of Iridonia, Part 2

Brutak continued his work as a mercenary for hire, finding what work he could. With enough time, he learned how to properly pilot the starship and sold off the droid. As he meditated more on the idea of the Jedi and Koth, soon he was finding something was guiding him. A spirit from beyond possibly or simply the Force he had heard about. He listened to it and practiced, trying and trying to hone the abilities he had within.

He was currently in the city of Zit Ivo on the planet Lutabi. It was a planet full of wetlands, but settlers and the Empire had established a base of operations here. The native Lutabians of the planets were settlers of the Trandosha people, lizard like folks from another star system of Wookies. Brutak was carrying out a standard mission, now armed with a sword. He was beginning to understand how to strike non-critical wounds and that sometimes force was needed to deal with unsavory folks. He trusted in the force to guide him and keep him safe.

He was meditating about his next step when the voice returned. It had been months, but he knew the insane voice in an instant.

“I will always find you.”

Brutak immediately stopped meditating and was put into alert. He wouldn’t find anything amiss and to be safe, he would avoid trying to tap into the Force for the next few days. It wouldn’t help.

Brutak was in the middle of escorting a merchant through the swamplands outside of Zit Ivo when trouble had happened. It was nightfall after a full day of travel, which on this planet was 32 hours. As they reached the edge of the swampland, the darkness was broken apart by the crackling red energy of a lightsaber.

The merchant screamed and ran, Brutak stood his ground and stared at the enemy. Mazer’kairn beamed his toothy grin as he stepped into a puddle of the marshy swampland. The trees loomed over them and the silence was broken only by the buzzing sound of wildlife, the bubbling of waters, and the sloshing of Mazer’kairn’s footsteps as he approached Brutak.

“The scared Zabrak does not flee this time? You have been running from me for so long. Far more difficult than the last Zabrak I dealt with.”

“Was it Koth?” asked Brutak.

“It was. Lord Vader had the pleasure of dispatching him. I merely helped.”

Anger welled up inside Brutak. The tragedy of Koth was becoming more clear now. Tragedy and the Jedi seemed to be intertwined and his life was full of tragedy. Did this mean he had a future as a Jedi? Before his thoughts could continue, Mazer’kairn released a freakish yell as he flew through the air towards Brutak.

Brutak moved out of the way, kicking up mud and water as Mazer’kairn landed slashing all over where he had been standing. Steam and smoke rose into the air from his violent slashes. Brutak watched the silhouette rise shakily, his shadow illuminated by the red erratic glow. Brutak ready his blade and breathed uneven as he shook with anger. He lunged forward with the sword, but Mazer’kairn kicked the blade aside and caused Brutak to stumble through the swamp.

Brutak kicked back at him, knocking one of his feet loose and dropping him to one knee. Brutak took advantage of the moment and rushed up from the mud and deeper into the swamps. He could hear taunts being yelled from Mazer’kairn as he chased him inwards.

It wasn’t long until he came to a clearing he had passed earlier with the merchant. It was a moment they had chosen to rest for it was like a small island had protruded from the swamps and served as stable footing. Brutak turned around to watch Mazer’kairn trudging through the swamps and onto the other side of the island. It would be their arena.

“You’ll pay for what you did to the rebels,” growled Brutak.

“They only died because you wouldn’t turn yourself in. I reached out to you and you ignored my calls.”

“Liar!” he shouted as he rushed forward with his sword.

“So quick to anger. This makes you strong. But you don’t know how to focus it,” Mazer’kairn said as he dodged the sword’s swing. “Not like I do.”

A hot searing pain flared against Brutak’s back as the smell of burning skin came into the air. A wound was burned onto his back from the lightsaber.

“A small touch of my power,” jeered Mazer’kairn as Brutak snarled at him.

Brutak leapt up and lunged at him again, a burst of strange speed given unto him as he tapped into the Force. It was like an extended half-leap as he struggled to channel his force-sensitive powers. Mazer’kairn smacked his sword into the ground and headbutted Brutak. He stumbled back and Mazer’kairn reached forward, using the Force to fling him onto the edge of the arena.

“How long will your anger fuel you?” he jeered again.

Brutak struggled to stand up.

“Do you have friends in Zit Ivo?” he asked with a sinister grin. “I can get you help for your powers.”

“You would train me to be a Jedi?” asked Brutak.

“Oh no. That would be up to the Emperor. But then you will have help from our Grand Inquisitor.”

“You would have me be a Jedi Hunter.”

“That’s up to the Emperor after I bring you in and restore my own good graces.”

“Never!” he shouted and lunged at Mazer’kairn.

His fist struck him across the face, knocking him back. A spark flew out of his cybernetic components and Mazer’kairn screamed in pain. Brutak grabbed the blade and tried to rip it out of the ground but it was caught. He tugged again and the blade snapped as it came out with a chunk of the moss and dirt. Underneath he spotted a bronze metal and the broken tip of the sword stuck in a crack. It called to him. Then everything went black.

When Brutak awoke he was tied up in someone’s house. The place was in shambles. Mazer’kairn beamed at him once he saw him stirring.

“Ah, you’re awake. You thought you’d make it past me and get through the border?”

“What are we doing here?” asked Brutak.

“Waiting. My ship needs fuel and an Empire commander will be in town soon. I hear the troopers talking about a higher up coming to visit for a special inspection. He will recognize my greatness!”

Mazer’kairn laughed as he left the building. Brutak sat in silence and waited. After a minute passed, he struggled and tried to free himself, but the rope was tied too well and was bound too strong. Brutak sat in silence once more. It was like so many times before where he found himself struggling to find an answer. He meditated and tried to calm himself. He focused on the strange metal he had seen in the swamp. He felt the presence of the Force around him. A voice reached out to him.

“Use the Force, Brutak. Trust in the Force to guide you.”

“Who are you?” he asked.

“Trust in the Force. Clear your mind of hate. Fill it with peace.”

He listened to the voice and focused. He chose not to think of those killed by his enemy, but focused on the emptiness within him. The voice continued to guide him and Brutak could feel the Force around him intensifying. He managed to pull a hand free from the bindings and waited. Meditating.

Eventually Mazer’kairn returned, beaming with pride. As he approached Brutak, Brutak suddenly shot his hand forward and used the force to take his lightsaber. In a quick motion, it crackled to life and cut through his ropes as Brutak stood to his feet.

“How… DARE YOU!” Mazer’kairn shouted with anger. “You dare test my power!?”

Mazer’kairn pulled back his arms, preparing to blast Brutak with the Force. With a burst of speed and determination, Brutak leapt forward and slashed at him. Mazer’kairn deftly dodged back, but Brutak spun around and punched him. Mazer’kairn stumbled backwards into a wall as Brutak kicked him in his metal stomach.

“You must flee.”

“But I’m winning,” Brutak said as he spun the lightsaber around and pointed it at Mazer’kairn.

“Cocky one aren’t you,” Mazer’kairn replied.

Then he used the Force to fling Brutak across the room. He crashed into furniture and tumbled against the wall. The lightsaber flew back across the room into Mazer’kairn’s hand. Brutak could feel the rage emanating from him.

“I am going to cut off one of your hands for that,” he threatened.

As Brutak stood up, someone knocked on the door. Both of them looked to it and then back to each other. They stood still and waited, tension in the air. There was another knock on the door.

“I’m here on business for the Empire, please don’t waste my time,” came the voice beyond the door.

Mazer’kairn gave a sinister smile as he turned to the door. He used the Force to force it open, but as soon as he did, Brutak saw the smile fade from his face. Brutak couldn’t see who was at the door, the light shone behind them like a silhouette. What he did see was they produced a lightsaber. The red beam spun around on the handle and a second blade of light emerged.

“A would-be sith?” they remarked to Mazer’kairn.

“No, Inquisitor, you don’t understand!” he began to plead but it was too late.

The Inquisitor leapt upon him in an instant and there was the sound of blades clashing. Brutak quickly used this moment to leave through a window. As he began to run away, he heard the voice once more.

“The swamp. Retrieve it from the swamp.”

Confused, but trusting entirely in the voice and the Force, Brutak turned away from the direction of the garage and ran back into the swamp. Dawn was breaking overhead as he heard the battle fading away behind him. Brutak returned to the island in the swamp. He saw the broken blade sitting where he had been knocked out. Mazer’kairn didn’t bother to retrieve it, nor had he noticed the patch of moss and dirt he had kicked up.

Brutak looked down into the hole where the tip of the blade still sat. He pried it free and then focused with meditation. He raised a hand and locks underneath it seemed to separate as the muffled sound of moving parts could be heard. There was a hiss of stale air rushing up as the metal parted. The island itself seemed to shake. It didn’t seem like a massive arena to him, but once it had cracked in half, it seemed that something massive was underneath it. A metal structure of some sort.

Brutak descended down into it. It was a dark room, but dim light flowed in from the morning sun’s rays. There was a large door going deeper into the strange temple and markings similar to the cave temple he had found. Brutak tried the door, but it wouldn’t budge. He couldn’t find anything to suggest a way to open the door.

“Behind you,” the familiar voice spoke once more.

Brutak turned around and saw a shape in the darkness. He froze and waited. His eyes adjusted and eventually he was able to see it was a swamp Trandosha, a native of this planet Lutabi. He was kneeling and holding something over his lap.

“Hello?” Brutak called out.

He didn’t need to wait for a response. Something in him has already known this creature had been long dead. He walked up to him and saw the thing in his lap was an ancient sword. He took it from the corpse and nodded to it with respect.

Brutak knew this was what the voice wanted. With the sword in his hand, he took difficulty in scaling back out of the temple. Once back on the surface, he looked at the sun. It was hanging higher in the sky. Time was of the essence for him to escape from the Inquisitor and Mazer’kairn. Though he was unsure of who had won that battle and if either would have died, he dared not investigate. Slipping back into the city of Zit Ivo, Brutak simply made his way to the garage.

Once inside, he ran through to his starship and immediately left the planet. He drifted for weeks until he finally found the caves again. Once there he began to meditate and train as the voice commanded him. For a time he felt he had peace in this training.

In time he would make journeys back to the temple to train, there he could hear the voice the clearest though it would never respond to him. In time, the Empire began to make a heavier presence in the inner rim, so Brutak finally abandoned the temple and went to the Outer Rim. Here he tried to make his way through the galaxy, building up his training as a Jedi to serve as a beacon of justice and someday help restore the Jedi Order he knew so little about.

#writing practice #creative writing #free writing #short stories #dungeons and dragons #star wars #swffg #sw ffg #fantasy flight games #character #back story #d&d backstory #gundam references

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fortunatowrites · 3 years

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Brutak: Outcast of Iridonia, Part 1 of 2

Born on Iridonia, Brutak Liberatt was an orange Zabrak. His tribe raised him to be independent and to carry on the tradition that Zabraks were famous for: never taking orders from others. His creed would see to it that if someone called to have power over him and ordered him to do something he didn’t want to, he would not do it.

When Brutak was young, his family suddenly became distant with him. He wasn’t sure it was that he had done, but they regarded him with a strange attitude. His parents didn’t treat his brother or anyone else Brutak saw them interact with in the way they treated him. News had come through of a tribe getting ready to leave Iridonia and Brutak’s mother secreted him away. She sent him to join the tribe, telling him that they would raise him to be true and strong.

Brutak left Iridonia to travel with this wandering tribe of Zabraks. It was normal for Zabraks to form tribes and wander out further into the galaxy, the most notable one being the Night Sisters. This one was travelling for different reasons though. They had heard about how the republic had taken care of the Night Sisters and regarded this as good news. They thought it good because the Night Sisters were notorious for their strange experiments on abducted Zabraks. When the republic shifted into the Galactic Empire, they feared the worst and set out. They would learn soon afterwards that they were right, for the Empire sought to bring the species of rebellious aliens under boot.

The tribe was known as the Starspikes and they lived on a space vessel. Few of them would leave the vessel when it was docked planetside to gather supplies and credits. Those who left often were a mercenary company going by the name of Starspikes so that they could work with any bounty hunting guilds that accepted them. As a young man, Brutak would set out with two “brothers'' to work as a trio. It was most often them that formed the Starspikes.

To keep things coherent with any tales told about them, they wore black armor and went by code names. Brutak was known as Ortega while the other two were brothers Gaia and Mash. Gaia often took the lead on the missions since he was the oldest and knew how to best secure deals. Anyone acting as Gaia would have the leadership role, but as far as Brutak knew, no one else ever used the codename Gaia besides his “brother.” Mash was the second oldest and he was the strongest of the bunch, so he served better for intimidation and backed up on those deals. The codenames Mash and Ortega would be used by others, but it was always Gaia and Mash that went to accept missions. Whoever had the codename Ortega would just wait for them to reconvene and hear the plan for the mission. Just as Brutak often did.

Brutak was currently meditating on his past. Meditation was a strange ritual he had seemingly adopted out of nowhere. He picked up on it in their travels and found that it brought him a lot of peace to simply meditate at times. He could swear that if he reached a very deep and calm state of meditation, he could hear the universe trying to speak to him. It was written off by any elders he talked to about it, but sometimes in his dreams he could swear the same thing.

As he reflected back, a specific instance reached out to him. It was one he thought about every so often, feeling a special connection to it. When he was younger on the ship and had started learning how to meditate, he would get strange looks from the other Zabraks in the Starspike tribe. One time he overheard people talking about someone named Koth and how a great tragedy is said to have befell them. He stepped forward into their room to approach them.

“Who is Koth? Was the tragedy on him or from his actions?” Brutak asked with great curiosity.

“Koth? Oh no, we were talking about Hoth, young warrior,” chuckled the older Zabrak.

The other one nervously looked to Brutak, “You just misheard us, kid.”

“What is the tragedy of Hoth?”

“It’s uhm… It was a beautiful world, but now it’s frozen. Shouldn’t you be practicing combat or something, kid?”

Brutak was so certain he had heard them talking of Koth’s tragedy, but none would admit to him such a thing existed.

Brutak was awoken from his meditation as Gaia and Mash returned to the ship. Brutak would get up to greet them and ask how it went. As usual, they’d say it went well enough and now they have work to do. Their latest mission involved spice traders with a secret facility that would need some guarding.

“A leak has informed these smugglers that some Empire scouts will be flying by to check out the area from an anonymous tip,” spoke Gaia. “We’ve been hired to deal with them in any way that ends with their secret base remaining secret.”

Brutak felt ease at hearing the main goal was to keep the base secret. He knew this was partially because he did not like to kill. Gaia was willing to work with him on this “strange nicety” he had developed, though sometimes it was not to be helped if it involved defeating stormtroopers. Mash scoffed as Gaia spoke of dealing with them in “any way.”

“It would be easiest to simply blow up their ships as they pass through,” Mash grumbled.

“But then they might want to send more knowing that something out there took out their patrol. More enemies for the next mission and that’s if we’re here for it,” replied Brutak, better known as brother Ortega to them.

“Ortega, that would just be better business for us and more blood to spill to prove our strength,” Mash said through gritted teeth. “I swear your weakness will be the death of us one day. You’ll show mercy and they’ll show vengeance or trick you in a way that hurts us all.”

“I wouldn’t betray you guys, Mash!” Ortega shouted.

“You know not how to control your emotions and outbursts! You are a fake Zabrak, somehow born into the skin of our kind but truly not one of us!”

“That’s enough, Mash. Ortega can do enough to get the job done. We work together as a great team and the three of us have perfected the Jet Stream Attack formation. So set aside your differences and let’s actually plan how we’re going to earn these credits,” Gaia said with his usual commanding voice.

Despite the booming and gruffness of Gaia, Brutak still felt depressed about what Mash said. It was the usual attitude he expected from Mash, but he felt truth in his words whenever he declared Brutak to be different from everyone else. That something about him was fake. It made him wonder if this was why his parents sent him away. Despite the deep hurt he felt at these comments, he tried to never act on it. Something in him drove him to drive the pain down and show him a neutral grace.

They discussed their plans for how to handle the mission. It was going to be a simple setup. They’d arrive at the space station A Baoa Qu which was disguised as a large asteroid cluster. The disguise would hold up as long as none of the ships actually went to dock on the asteroids for any reason. The Starspikes would set up on the outside and watch for the people coming through. Once they saw them, they’d divert them away and make like they were caught doing an illegal run. After getting the fleet to chase them into an asteroid field, they’d evade the group and pick off any stragglers. If any of them put up a fight further than that, they’d shoot at vital systems on the ships, forcing them to group up to rescue those from the failing ships.

The Starspikes set out their plan and it was all going accordingly. Their ship, a modified Star Courier repainted to black like their armor, was stationed in a hidden spot while they waited. Eventually three Empire scouts piloting Tie Scout ships came into their territory. It was just as the leak suggested meaning they were here to check up on the information that had been given to them. The Starspikes waited for them to pass and then revealed themselves, firing on the ship in the back. Brother Ortega gasped as Mash chuckled heartily, fueled with adrenaline from the upcoming battle.

One of the Tie Scouts seemed to stutter before it began to haphazardly wobble through space, weaving a trail of smoke out from behind it. The secondary Tie Scout followed behind it to rescue the pilot as he made an emergency ejection. The leader of the scouts banked towards the Starspikes’ ship and the chase began. Ortega ran through the ship to the front where Gaia was piloting.

“Don’t start with me, Ortega. Get back there and focus on those scanners,” shouted Gaia as he piloted them through the asteroid field. “The pilot will live. See to it that we do too.”

The two remaining Tie Scouts chased them into the asteroid field. Lasers flew through the area, some of the shots coming close to banking off their wings. Ortega shouted coordinates to Mash of asteroids to shoot while also shouting warnings to Gaia of incoming asteroids. The chase felt like it was lasting forever, each second stretching into eons for Ortega as he watched lasers and rubble fly.

Once through the asteroid field, the Starspikes continued to lead them away farther from the secret space station. The chase continued out in the open space where the danger was far greater than navigating the asteroid fields. Gaia constantly swung the ship back and forth as they performed several rolls and sways. Laser fire would occasionally dart past the ship now that they had no cover to hide behind. Mash was making steady bursts of lasers at the ships, some of his shots barely grazing the enemies but successfully keeping them inaccurate as well. Ortega watched on the scanners with worry as he tried to keep his trust in Gaia’s plan.

“Damn it, if only we held still for a minute, I’d shoot them both out of the sky!” shouted Mash.

“We just need to keep them moving around,” spoke Ortega.

“Sure thing, kid,” he replied sarcastically.

Suddenly the ship rocked violently as a muffled explosion sounded through the ship. Mash began to fire wildly as Ortega ran to investigate. Their engine had been hit and severely damaged. He ran to the front to tell Gaia amidst the alarm going off on the ship.

Gaia was struggling at the controls, fighting against spinning out of control. Ortega rushed to his side to help him as they veered off into space. They heard Mash roar a successful yell from the back, declaring he got one. Ortega could only focus on helping Gaia guide them to a nearby planet.

Their ship made a bumpy crash landing as they slid into a valley amidst a strange mountainous region. Ortega heard the slam of Mash in the back, falling out of his gunner cockpit and into the hall. Gaia and Ortega looked at each other, making a quick scan to see how they were. Gaia’s helmet had been cracked and he was banged up by the landing. Ortega was sore, but overall he was fine. He pulled out a medpac and handed it to Gaia as he went to check on Mash.

In the back he found Mash was unconscious and his helmet had fallen off. The man was a pale yellow Zabrak with small horns and long purple hair. He tried shaking him awake, but the best he got was mumbled words about “got the bastard.” Looking up, Ortega saw one of the Tie Scouts speeding across the sky with a dark voluminous trail of smoke behind it. Ortega looked back to Mash with a scowl and lifted him up to carry him to the cockpit. Ortega wasn’t the strongest of the bunch, but his strength still had a significant difference from the average Zabrak.

“I think they’re making emergency landings on the other side of the mountain,” spoke Ortega as he set Mash on a seat in the back of the cockpit.

Gaia swore under his breath as he applied the contents of the medpac to a wound on his skull. Ortega looked over at him, Gaia had removed his helmet revealing his dark red skin and black hair. It was kept short and in rows between his horns. One of his horns had broken. Ortega knew it would grow back in time, but that there would be shame.

“We have to find them,” he said with a flat tone. “Go do recon while I get Mash back on his feet.”

Ortega nodded and promptly left the ship with some scanning equipment. He headed in the direction of the smoke and wandered into the surrounding mountain. As he moved further in, his equipment started becoming unreliable. Out of nowhere it started to lead him in circles, like he was being drawn back to caves in the sides of the mountain instead of through them towards the pilots.

As he got ready to start navigating without the equipment, he felt a strange sensation. Like he was being drawn to the caves through the calling of an ethereal force. Removing his helmet, he felt he could hear it more clearly. He set his helmet by the entrance of the cave as he listened. Ortega followed, giving in to the strange instinct of his gut, and began to explore the caves. Armed with a simple light he tried his best to not get lost.

Some time later, he found a strange temple. The markings he didn’t recognize, yet he could understand it was a ritual of some kind. There were images depicting robed men of varying species wielding a hilt that emitted a blade of light. He took his light and tried to mimic it, feeling in tune with everything as he did so. He practiced in the cave as he walked through it, feeling like a lesson was being handed down to him. Finally he reached a circular room with a raised platform in the middle.

Taking a deep breath, he went to the middle of the room and sat down. He turned off his flashlight, trapping himself within the darkness of the room. He began to meditate as he had done so many times before, such as before their mission started. Time seemed to drag on as he sat in the dark, simply clearing his mind and opening it to any suggestions.

The room began to glow around him and rocks began to levitate. He could hear the sudden whoosh of a rising wind around him. Ortega remained still as he focused, opening his mind to a sign. He thought about Koth.

“Brutak,” a distant voice whispered.

Brutak began to open his eyes.

“What am I?” he replied.

“Ortega!” a closer voice shouted.

The wind became still, the rocks clattered to the ground, and the glow faded away.

“Ortega, are you lost? You miserable gravel-maggot,” the voice shouted again.

Quickly flicking back on his light, Brutak got up from the podium and dashed out of the temple. A few moments later, he found Gaia and Mash with lights near the front of the cave.

“There you are,” Gaia spoke. “For a moment I thought you got caught in a cave-in.”

“No, sir,” replied Ortega.

Mash jammed Ortega’s helmet into his chest, knocking an “oof” out of him.

“We found your helmet,” Mash barked. “Don’t lose it again unless you don’t want us to find you, gravel-maggot.”

“I thought there was a creature in there,” Ortega lied, “I was trying to make sure it wasn’t something that could ambush us. My scanners show the pilots should be just over the range.”

“Good. Let’s make sure they can’t report back to their command and scrap their parts to repair the Nebula-glaive.”

“What if they’re looking for us? Let’s just wait to bash em when they come through,” spoke Mash.

“Not likely, Mash,” replied Gaia. “No doubt they’re trying to repair their ship now to search for us with air superiority. Let’s not give them the chance.”

Following the smoke and scanners, the Starspikes crew marched through the mountains. On the other side they found another valley, this one having more trees and greenery in its environment. It didn’t take them long to find the crashed ships in a clearing. One of them had holes in it from Mash’s shooting and the other had crashed into trees. Two of them were clearing debris from the ship as the other rested against it. He had bandages around his arm and face.

“Let’s take them out now, we have no choice,” said Mash with glee as he grabbed his blaster.

Gaia laid his hand over the blaster, “Missing crew means reinforcements.”

“We can take them. It’s three to two. Plus no one has beaten our signature move,” remarked Ortega.

“We knock them out and then what? Strand them to await those reinforcements?” spat Mash.

“We’ll knock them out and then keep them aboard the Nebula-glaive. We’ll make like our hideout has been compromised and dump them somewhere they can buy a new ship so to not make enemies with the Empire.”

Ortega nodded. Mash grumbled but then gave a “yes sir” before following orders. The three of them moved in quickly with combat sticks. They fired off their jetpacks and rushed in a straight line. The two pilots looked up in shock as Mash came barrelling down on them. He struck one of them across the head and to the ground. The other dodged to the side, but right behind Mash was Ortega. He lunged at the pilot, but he missed and barrelled past him. Finally Gaia came crashing into the dirt and sweeped his legs up with the combat stick. With the pilots on the ground, Gaia stood over them with his blaster drawn.

“We don’t want trouble with the Empire.”

“Well you’re in for it now! Do you know who that is!?” cried the one clutching his arm.

“Quiet, Gamspen,” commanded the one taken down by Gaia.

“We just need your parts. Then we’ll take you off to the closest port and part ways,” continued Gaia.

“No one has to die today,” Ortega added.

“But I’ll gladly see to it that someone does,” spoke Mash.

“You have the upper hand it seems,” spoke the pilot. “But you will pay for this.”

Mash leaned in to grab the mouthy one by the collar. As he did so, he raised his blaster and fired. They looked to see him shooting at the injured pilot. The man’s face turned white as he dropped the blaster he had been picking up.

“Hajonn, just surrender,” commanded the other one.

The man raised his good arm and stayed where he was. Mash looked back to the one he picked up.

“Why’s the old man so important?” Mash growled.

Gaia was already tying up the older one and handed rope to Ortega to tie up the injured one. They both looked to Mash as the man simply kept quiet. Mash shook the pilot.

“I said, why is he so important, huh!?” Mash shouted.

“I’m Commander Mabarah Revil,” spoke the older one.

“Terrabast! An Empire Commander?!” Mash shouted aiming his blaster.

Ortega panicked as he watched Gaia draw his blaster too.

“That is a problem,” spoke Gaia.

“W-wait,” called Ortega. “Maybe he’s more valuable to us alive.”

“Getting involved with capturing a commander is going to make more trouble for us than a simple hand off at a port,” spoke Gaia.

“We can ransom him back or something. Or maybe the rebels will pay for him.”

Revil kept a stern gaze as they debated his fate. Zabrak took a deep breath and then looked intently at Gaia, feeling a sudden calm guiding him.

“We need him alive,” spoke Brutak.

Gaia stood for a moment as if seriously taking in what was being said.

“We need him alive,” he repeated, lowering his blaster.

“Are you kidding me!?” shouted Mash, tossing down the other pilot. “Am I the only around here who doesn’t have womp rats for brains?”

It was some time later that they managed to get all the parts they needed for the ship. While they did repairs, Ortega would wander off to the caves to try and find the temple again. Once he found it again, he went back in to explore more. He tried to meditate, but it just didn’t seem to click this time. So he spent more time practicing with his flashlight the techniques he saw in the carvings on the wall.

Eventually his comm crackled to life as they radioed in that it was time for them to go. Ortega returned promptly and the Nebula-glaive fired back up. Gaia secretly communicated with their employers to let them know that their mission was successful and they’d be around for their credits in a few days. During this time, they flew off to the closest spaceport. Once there they released the two Empire scouts, stripped of their uniforms. Their best hope was that the men would either abandon their posts or take so long to return their call to the Empire that the Starspikes would be long gone.

Afterwards they picked up their payment from the spice pirates, obviously keeping it a secret that they had a new prisoner of their own. Ortega was assigned to guard duty as Gaia took them to another space port, this time trying to find any rebel contacts to figure out ransoming the Commander. Mash stayed on board incase of any complications to help with guard duty as needed.

A few days later, Ortega tried speaking with the prisoner.

“So, who do you work for?” asked Ortega.

“You know I work for the Empire, serving the glory of our Emperor,” replied Mabarah Revin.

“Yes, but I mean, you must have a higher up, right?” asked Ortega.

“That’s classified information.”

“Who am I going to tell?”

“It’s valuable information.”

“Well I’m really curious as to why they’d send a high ranking Commander like yourself out on a simple scouting mission,” pondered Ortega.

“I wanted to be in the field. The information came by suspiciously and I needed to be there in case of any rebel surprises,” he spoke plainly.

“Oh hey, you do share sometimes,” joked Ortega.

“You seem more relaxed than your colleagues about this.”

“Well… It’s a complicated matter with us.”

“I would really like something to eat.”

Ortega was caught off guard by the request and stared at him for a moment.

“Are you serious?”

“We hadn’t eaten before the mission. Now your leader only allows me a share of a ration per day. Who knows what the rebels will feed me. If they feed me.”

Ortega winced at the idea that they’d be trading him off just for someone else to bring down the metaphorical axe on him.

“Yeah, just… give me a moment,” Ortega said before standing up from his seat.

Ortega went out to the cockpit where Mash was currently sitting. Almost instantly Mash stood up with a blaster in hand.

“The prisoner, did he-?!”

“It’s fine, Mash. I’m just hungry. I won’t be any longer than when I use the bathroom,” Ortega said as he grabbed some food.

Mash glared at him as Ortega left the cockpit and back to the quarters they were keeping Commander Revin in. When he entered, he saw Revin’s eyes light up at the sight of some real food. Ortega set the bread aside as he undid a single and moved it to a nearby pipe. With one hand free, Revin was able to accept and eat the bread.

“This tastes far better than the Polystarch Bread they give us in our ration packs,” remarked Revin.

“I didn’t know there was worse bread than what we have,” remarked Ortega.

“Rear Admiral Jerjerrod says the veg-meat is a test of character for new recruits. Separates the devoted from the pretenders amongst the Stormtroopers.”

“That sounds like valuable information,” spoke Ortega.

“You paid with valuable bread,” replied Revin.

“So is Jerjerrod going to hunt you down and rescue you from those rebels?” asked Ortega.

“I’m sure he’ll send out a crew to find me. They’ll be hunting you, but if you just tell them where I’ve been left at, I’m sure they won’t make trouble for you.”

“I doubt anyone will find us, but if the Empire is as strong as they say, they’ll track you down no problem.”

A little bit later, it was getting to be Mash’s turn for watch over Revin. As Ortega was getting up to get the door for him, Revin coughed and motioned with his free hand.

“Ah right. I’ll need to fix that or he’ll kill me.”

Ortega leaned in and Revin moved his hand back by the cuff. As he undid the cuff around the pipe, suddenly Revin jammed his shoulder into Ortega’s face. Disoriented, he leaned back and then Revin grabbed the key out of his hand. He quickly undid one of the cuffs on his feet and stood up to knee Ortega in the face.

“Pathetic,” he remarked as he rushed to the door.

Ortega quickly got up after him as the door opened.

“Gravel-maggot, what’s takin-” Mash began, cut off by surprise at Revin at the door.

Revin quickly snatched the blaster from his hand and rapidly fired it into Mash’s gut and his leg. He doubled over as Ortega rushed behind Revin. Ortega chased after him until he made out the exit hatch and into the garage hangar they were parked in. He stopped for a moment as he heard the groans of pain behind him. He grit his teeth and turned back to tend to Mash.

He radioed Gaia after patching up Mash and let him know they had trouble with Revin and that he escaped. When Gaia returned he was furious.

“How the hell did this happen?!” he hollered looking over Mash.

“He needs a doctor,” spoke Ortega. “The prisoner he… he got my key and took me by surprise.”

Gaia took off his helmet and threw it across the room before marching up to Ortega.

“Don’t lie to me. How the hell could a man with cuffs around his feet and hands manage to grab a key from you? Even if he got a hand free, how could he get close enough to you without you breaking every bone in his body as a consequence for his foolish actions?”

Ortega looked away and Gaia shoved him into the wall. Ortega was startled and looked up to get a kick in the stomach. He doubled over and Gaia grabbed him by the back of his neck and brought him into the hallway.

“Remove the armor,” he commanded.

Ortega began to remove the armor, feeling anger boil up in him. How could Gaia do this to him? Mash needed help and here he was getting ready to do ritual combat for honor or some other nonsense. It wasn’t his fault that the Empire hires such conniving officers. He felt so betrayed. He showed the man kindness and this was what he did to him? And now his leader was kicking him around with a bunch of sucker punches?

Ortega looked up with anger as he stood in his simple clothes, a pile of black armor next to him. He motioned to Gaia to do the same.

“Oh no, that’s not what we’re doing,” Gaia said as his jetpack fired up.

“What?” Ortega asked with shock as Gaia slammed into him, knocking him onto his back.

Gaia grabbed him by the shirt collar and dragged him to the exit hatch. Ortega felt himself get lifted and tossed, tumbling onto the pavement of the garage. He scrambled to his feet as the hatch closed. He slammed himself against it and banged a fist against the door.

“No wait! I’m sorry, Gaia! Please! I can make things right!”

“Mash needs a doctor,” replied Gaia from the other side as he walked back to the cockpit.

Ortega ran over to the cockpit and began to beat on the glass. Mash groaned and turned, barely opening his eyes to see what was happening.

“I’m going to take him back to see a doctor. It’s unfortunate that you died out here,” Gaia said pausing for a moment to look Ortega in the eyes. “Brutak.”

“I can make things right!” he shouted again, slapping at the glass.

“Piss off, gravel-maggot,” choked out Mash with a grin, then long groans of pain.

The ship’s engines fired up and it rose into the air. Brutak felt the sting of no longer being called his “brother” name. He was officially outcast from the Starspikes mercenary group. But now he was about to lose his family again. Separated from his family back home, separated from his new family on the Starspikes tribe ship, and now kicked from his mercenary brothers.

“Don’t leave me!” he shouted up at them as they rose into the air.

Something welled up inside of Brutak in that moment. That calming sensation he had known before swirled around him like an angry whirlwind in his mind. Thoughts crashing against each other like waves of blood being spilt. He roared as he leap straight up, an unbelievable height, to latch on the bottom of the ship.

“You CAN’T leave me!” he shouted.

“So it’s true,” Gaia said. “You are some kind of freak.”

“There they are. Don’t let them get away,” shouted Commander Revin.

Brutak turned to the garage’s entrance to see a squad of stormtroopers behind him. They opened fire as the Nebula-glaive swung around and began to fly out of the garage’s upper entrance. Brutak tried to hold on as tight as he could, but he could feel the power within him draining away. He felt like there had been a well inside of him and he just dumped the entire thing. His grip loosened and a blaster bolt singed across his back as it grazed him.

He yelled out with pain as he fell to the ground and watched the spaceship dart away into the sky. Brutak limped over to a nearby container as he heard Revin shout and send a man in his direction. Brutak peeked over the crate to see a stormtrooper rushing towards him. He cussed and slinked away, running out into the streets.

Brutak crashed through a crowd that filled with gasps as they saw the wounds on his back. The stormtrooper came running through after him shortly after, shouting for everyone to stand aside. He was gaining on Brutak and time was running out. As he staggered through the streets, he tried to duck into alleys to hide. He found a dumpster and slumped besides it with a hiss of pain. Then he waited.

Hope began to renew in him as the sound of people passing by seemed to suggest he had gotten away. It was just as quickly dashed away as he heard the clunking of stormtrooper armor coming down the alley. He held his position, grit his teeth, and curled his fists as he got ready to fight. The stormtrooper got closer and closer and Brutak simply listened. He steadied his breathing and waited for the steps to get closer and closer. Then, once the stormtrooper was close enough, he lunged to his feet and swung at him.

The stormtrooper was startled as the gun was knocked out of his hand, but he quickly drew a tonfa that sparked an electric buzz on the end. He swung it at Brutak, hitting him across the face, and then jammed the electric end into his stomach. Brutak hollered as he fell back onto his injuries. He hollered a second time as his blaster wound hit the sidewalk. He looked up at the stormtrooper.

“It’s over, hornhead scum,” he said with vile.

Suddenly a blue stun blast hit him in the back and the stormtrooper collapsed. Brutak tried to lift himself up to see, but his vision was fading. All he saw was a man in red, then he lost consciousness.

Brutak later awoke in a strange place. It was unkempt and had several people moving around crates of supplies. One of them was using a radio to speak a coded message when he turned to see Brutak. He hung up the radio and introduced himself.

The man was Harc Anbleza, the leader of a small resistance on this planet Pasher. He often dressed in red colors to help signal who he was to other rebels and would-be rebels, though he often switched it up to avoid the imperials on the planet. Brutak wasn’t interested in joining their rebellion, but was thankful that they had saved him. He was only interested in escaping this planet and finding his tribe’s ship so that he could return to his people. He also wanted to find that temple and continue trying to learn what he could about it.

Over the course of the next several months, Brutak would try to repay his debt by helping them with odd jobs but none he found to be putting himself too far out into the open. Overtime he grew to like these rebels and how they treated him as an equal, though at times he was reminded of Anbleza’s authority as leader. It reminded him of Gaia at times.

In his off time, Brutak did what he could for credits. It wasn’t too hard to find grunt work on a desert planet like this, but the better work was enforcer work. Tracking down people who owed debts or taking care of people who had been too unruly in bars. Brutak was beginning to like how he could wield a stun baton and it reminded him of practicing in the strange temple.

Unbeknownst to Brutak, his leap in the hangar had been witnessed by several stormtroopers and Revin. One of those stormtroopers got drunk at the bar and spoke about how he saw the Zabrak make an absolute show of himself. Crying and shouting until he suddenly flew through the air. Most of the patrons ignored it and laughed about it, declaring his senses too addled by the drinks. One of them did not ignore it.

This news went through a specific network until the information reached a very interested party. That interested party then set out to Pasher.

Over the next few weeks, Brutak got a droid and a ship. He was making his final preparations to set out in the coming days, despite the rebels wanting him to stay.

“You should really think about the good you can do if you stay here to help us,” spoke Anbleza. “If you want to go off world so bad, you can join me in the Red Cruiser for supply runs. I’m the deftest pilot in the galaxy, no laser has ever grazed me.”

Brutak felt his back ache and thought about it before laughing it off.

“I can’t stay here forever. Also the credits are non-refundable on my ship.”

Brutak put a hand on Anbleza’s shoulder before continuing, “But I’ll say my goodbyes. Tomorrow’s our last mission together and then I’m off this sand rock.”

It was at this time the interested party was arriving.

The mission was a standard one, grabbing supplies from an imperial trade to injure the occupying forces and strengthen the rebelling. Everything was going according to plan, as it often does under Harc Anbleza’s command. Brutak was waiting to rendezvous with the rest of the team and help cover their escape outside the facility. He often took times like these to meditate as he did now. It was another standard session of meditation when suddenly a voice broke through his mind.

“Found you.”

Brutak fell off the box he had positioned himself on with a crash and looked around. There was no one there. One of the other rebels went to help him up.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“I’m… not sure,” Brutak replied with hesitation.

He took another breath to clear his mind and tried again.

“You won’t escape me.”

“Who are you?!” he shouted looking around.

The other rebel shakily held his blaster, “Brutak? It’s me, Zerton.”

Brutak looked at Zerton with confusion. He knew she was the Balosar rebel he had been paired with. She appeared human except for the two antennapalps on her head. Was that why she hadn’t heard the voice?

“Did you not hear him?” asked Brutak.

“It’s just us and we gotta keep quiet or a patrol might come by,” she warned, still obviously worried about Brutak’s sanity.

“Something’s not right here…” he said, going to the door.

As Brutak went to open the door, it was flung wide open as two rebels with wounds came running through. Looking inside, he saw a black Twi’lek with many cybernetics fighting with an Aqualish rebel. The Twi’lek gave a toothy grin as he kicked the rebel back and then brandished a red lightsaber and slashed him in two. Brutak gasped. It was the weapon from the carvings.

In the glow of the saber he could see the black Twi’leks abdomen had been modified with cybernetics and so had part of his arm and face. It turned to him and he saw the orange eyes lock on his. The Twi’lek smiled.

“I found you.”

A hand grabbed Brutak and pulled him back as the door was slammed.

“Come on, we need to GO!” shouted Anbleza. “I can’t lose you too Brutak!”

“What happened to everyone else?” he asked as they ran after the other two.

“We took out the guards and everything was going great until he suddenly showed up. He was the mercenary they had hired on, the one we thought we could handle. But he was no mercenary. He was a jedi,” Anbleza said grimly as they ducked into an alley.

They could hear the door being kicked open with tremendous force behind them. They continued to talk as they raced back to the base. Brutak felt great sorrow for his fallen comrades. He had tried to distance himself before, but they all had grown on him. They were his friends and he was supposed to protect them…

“What’s a Jedi?” asked Brutak.

“Are you kidding me? You’ve never heard of the people who can wield the Force?” asked Anbleza.

“No. What’s the Force?”

“I… what? What rock have you been living under? I don’t under the mystic mumbo jumbo, but I thought it was all rumors that the Empire had Jedi, the force users, in their armies. They were like propaganda used by the republic and scary stories used by the Empire. Strange magical men who blades of light that could cut through anything and shield against blasters.”

Before Brutak could go on, the three of them stopped dead in their tracks. The rebel base wasn’t too far ahead of them, but the sight was clearly visible now. It had been totally destroyed and a ruined building stood before them. An arm hung out the window with a singed hole underneath it. They had tried to escape the wrath of this force user.

“How fitting,” spoke the voice from behind them. “A Zabrak cost me my honor. A Zabrak will restore it.”

The three of them turned to face the black Twi’lek, dressed in black and walking towards them.

“Jedi,” spoke Brutak.

“Jedi Hunter,” corrected the Twi’lek. “But something tells me that you’re not a Jedi if you’re making that mistake.”

“What do you want with him?” demanded Anbleza.

“I need him to restore my honor. To show Lord Vader that I, Mazer’kairn, am worthy of the Inquisitors. I can be a brother! I have purged the familiarity that cursed me before, I see the weakness now and it is gone! But I must hunt Jedi to prove my worth.”

He flicked on his lightsaber, the red beam crackling with uncontrolled power. It was a crude device poorly put together out of the remains of others. It matched the patchwork metal of his body.

“Now, are you coming willingly or do I get to chase you some more?” he said with a sinister grin.

“Get out of here!” shouted the Balosar as she began firing her blaster at him.

The blade moved swiftly to block the blaster bolts. One of them was deflected back at her and hit her in the leg. She grunted but continued firing as Brutak and Anbleza ran to the hangar.

“We have to get to the ships. His magic won’t help him in a dogfight,” spoke Anbleza.

“I can barely operate the ship in the first place. It’s why I got the droid,” Brutak warned.

“That’s okay. I’m an ace pilot. Best there is in the system.”

They continued to run until they made it to the hangar. There they got into their ships and set off into the sky. It wasn’t long until another ship was behind them, chasing them out into space. It looked like a heavily damaged and modified RZ-1 A-wing.

Lasers began to fly out into space as it opened fire on the Red Cruiser. Brutak wasn’t sure why, but it seemed like the enemy did not want to shoot him out of the sky. He wanted him alive for some reason.

Brutak let the droid take care of the piloting and dodging any lasers that tended to come his way. Otherwise he watched as the Red Cruiser zipped around through space, making spirals and spins as it dodged the attacks of Mazer’karin. Twin streams of fire burst out of the back of the RZ-1 as he blasted through space trying to catch the Red Cruiser. Harc Anbleza had not been lying or cocky whenever he talked about being such an ace pilot.

They had quite the dogfight as Brutak tried to help in whatever way he could. The droid beeped frantically and warned him to retreat from this senseless violence. The commanding voice of Anbleza came over the ship’s comms as his face appeared on a screen.

“You need to get out of here, Brutak,” he spoke.

“I won’t abandon you guys!” he shouted back.

“Oh please, you were set to leave anyway. I’ll be fine and there’s more of us out there. It’s you he wants, Jedi,” he said with the Jedi carrying an air of sarcasm.

“Harc… You don’t have to do this.”

“If you’re getting sentimental, I’m going to have to laugh at you,” he said with a smile. “Now go!”

The communication channel shut off and the droid beeped at Brutak.

“Yeah yeah… Let’s get out of here, quick.”

Brutak pulled back from the fight and began to fly away. The RZ-1 veered away from the Red Cruiser and sped at him, locking his targeting systems on Brutak’s engine. Just before he could fire, lasers shot through one of his wings. The RZ-1 began to spin out of control as the Red Cruiser zipped around it.

With a deep breath, Brutak steadied himself and darted off into space. He would continue to visit several planets along his journey as he searched for the lost temple of the caves. He tried to learn more about the Jedi and meditation, but was often met with the legends of those who had served in the old Republic. Tales spoken in whispers for those that feared the wrath of the Empire for speaking of the system before.

#star wars #fantasy flight games #swffg #rpg #ffg #back story #backstory #pc #character #d&d #dnd #creative writing #writing practice #free writing #short stories #gundam references

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fortunatowrites · 4 years

Text

The Dungeon Unexplored

“Jeremiah Sharpblade is a renowned adventurer, known across the world for his various exploits!” shouted the bard from the middle of the inn.

The people of the tavern looked up at him as he kicked away dishes and mugs to clamber up onto a table. The people that were eating there moments ago and now staring at his filthy boots looked up at him with a great anger in their eyes.

The bard cleared his throat. “Lion’s Maw! The dungeon recently discovered by a nobleman out collecting mushrooms! Never before explored, but they say blood stains fresh its steps! Roars of enemies within scream out for the souls of the innocent! And grand Jeremiah Sharpblade has answered that call and told them he will take no prisoners in his exploration!”

The angry glares quickly subsided into astonishment of ooh’s and aah’s, a delightful curiosity now having taken hold of all the people in the tavern. They turned to where the bard was pointing and saw a man dressed in a fancy adventurer’s garb.

Jeremiah spit out his ale. “I’m doing what?”

The bard quickly shouted over him, “Come listen and toss your coin if you are impressed! Once there was a town haunted by the ghost of a demon bear! Every night it would break into homes and steal away the women of Berkley! They wept every morning with grief and fear. Those who moved away were slaughtered along the road by the demon bear! None were safe! That is until Jeremiah Sharpblade arrived!”

Jeremiah meekly waved at the people gasping and looking towards him.

“Jeremiah went into the forest and found the ghost of the demon bear. It refused to be exorcised and had killed ten priests who dared! So the brave adventurer Sharpblade pulled forth his blade and commanded the bear to die... FOREVER!”

The people cheered and tossed some coins to the bard.

“There was the maze of the minotaur! To some, it was just a cornfield; but to those who dared explore it, it was the chamber of death! A minotaur had taken over a wonderful game of carnivals! Cursed to protect the maze and trap simple farmfolk within! Then came the brave Jeremiah Sharpblade! He chopped through the maze and told the minotaur to explore another maze...THE GATES OF HELL!”

One of the innfolk fainted at their table while Jeremiah pondered how gates could be a maze. He took this time to try and leave unnoticed. Yet, the bard noticed.

“Look! He takes leave! The thrill of the adventurer drives his blood hot and brave grand slayer-of-monsters Jeremiah Sharpblade cannot stand still for long! He is cursed, unable to partake in revelry, for he must always move forward and slay! Go forth grand adventurer! Please find treasures for which we can buy from you! Perhaps medallions with which to adorn your favorite spreader-of-tales!”

The people started chanting about a bard medallion as Jeremiah grumbled and walked away. Outside the tavern he was quickly accosted by a nobleman with a bag of mushrooms.

“Oh Jeremiah! You truly bless this town with your presence! You shall be rewarded quite handsomely for slaying the beasts within the Lion’s Maw!” spoke the nobleman with a combination of anxiety and glee.

“Yeah, sure,” he spoke without enthusiasm. The nobleman hardly noticed. “And they say no one’s ever been in there before?”

“I saw the maw open wide within the hills! All the dirt it shoved aside is freshly moved and looks like the mane of a lion!”

“Ah I see... Cool... Cool...” Jeremiah spoke as he looked around with a hand rubbing the back of his neck. “So... which way is it?”

“Why, I’ll lead you! If you don’t mind me accompanying you. I’ll try my dearest to stay out of your way, brave adventurer!” he said with a beaming smile. His face was twitching with anxiety though.

Jeremiah waved his hand and gave him a “yeah, whatever you want, man” and the nobleman began to lead the way. It was a short journey away before they reached the dungeon known as the Lion’s Maw.

Jeremiah gingerly leaned his head in to look down the hall that contained a stairwell leading deeper into a dank dungeon below. This time the tales were true, he really could hear something roaring from within. At one point it managed a gutteral call of “BLOOD... INNOCENT BLOOD... I DESIRE IT!”

He leaned back to look at the nobleman. The nobleman gave him a thumbs up and a smile. Jeremiah sighed. “Look man, you gotta know something.”

“What is it, dear adventurer?”

“I’ve... I’ve never been in an unexplored dungeon.”

“Oh?” the nobleman said, taken aback.

“Yeah. Every dungeon I’ve...’conquered’,” he said while making air quotes with his fingers, “had at least two or three groups that tried to conquer it before me. As I went through, most of the traps had already been triggered and most of the beasts already slain. Hell, the last time I went into a dungeon, I found a map on a dead guy by the entrance. He must have made a bad step or something, but that map basically said where to not go and it was very easy.”

“But, what of the beasts you’ve slayed? Surely no beast stands a chance against you. Like the demon bear ghost and the minotaur of the corn field!”

“That demon bear was just a regular black bear. I didn’t even kill it, the townsfolk just thought that sounded cooler. I’m pretty sure it never broke into their homes, there was just a lot of people that suddenly left cause that town was boring and full of crazy people. As for the minotaur, it was just a cow. I mean, it was possessed by a demon or something, but for the most part; it was a cow.”

Jeremiah pulled out his blade, which shined in the light of the sun. The hilt was golden with a ruby inlaid at the hilt beneath the blade’s center.

“I found this in one of those dungeons and it’s super sharp. Sometimes it whispers to me on when to swing and that helps a lot.”

“My word, Jeremiah. Your magical blade truly makes you a hero though! Thus the Sharpblade name!”

“No, it’s just... Jerry Sharlade. I don’t know if people misheard me or if bards tried to make me sound cooler. But the blade is very good. I’m sure it’ll help me beat what’s in there. But I’m just giving you the heads up that if there is a big demon in there, you should probably run. Instead of, y’know, hanging around and expecting me to keep you totally safe.”

The nobleman stared with disbelief at the hero. He took a moment to collect himself and then spoke, “Well said adventurer. I’ll keep that in mind.”

Then the two of them entered into the dungeon. As soon as they reached the bottom of the stairs, they set off a trap of arrows shooting from the wall. Jerry listened to the blade and made quick and deft strikes through the air, deflecting the arrows that came at him.

“Are you alright, nobleman mushroom-collector?” he called out as he turned around. Through gritted teeth he let out a hiss that almost seem to convey the phrase, “whoops.” The nobleman was very dead and looked like a pin cushion. “I should have told him to stay further back... Well at least the bards will tell of some epic creature.”

The “hero” Jerry began to delve deeper into the dungeon. There was a pack of goblins that tried to jump him, but they were also injured by the traps. Goblins weren’t native to dungeons, they just tended to go into abandoned ones and make them their home. Seeing as how this one wasn’t abandoned, it was more than likely they were turned away and trying to jump anyone else who entered. Unluckily for them, Jerry’s blade was mighty and killed the gang.

Further in, he came across strange drawings on the wall. It showed triangles underneath a rectangle. Taking about five minutes, Jerry shrugged and continued onward. Unfortunately, the drawing was trying to warn him that further ahead, the floor would fall away to a spike pit. With his final breath, Jeremiah Sharpblade the Grand Adventurer shouted out “Whoops!”

#short story #short stories #creative writing #writing practice #writing prompt #free writing #Forty writes #fantasy

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fortunatowrites · 4 years

Text

Appetite for Destruction

A prompt i submitted to a writing contest forever ago that I had forgotten about. They never reached out to me, so I’m assuming I was not picked and can share this now. If i recall right, the prompt was something simple has incredibly high stakes.

Clarence Caputo blinked the sweat out of his eyes and focused on the task at hand. Already he had spent a tremendous amount of time and effort to meticulously knead out the dough he had hand-crafted. It was spread upon a large metal pan and he was now making sure the crust was incredibly evenly spread across the baking pan.

Wiping the sweat off of his brow, he quickly rushed over to a drawer and flung it open. It clattered loudly as it caught on the unit itself and rattled everything inside. He rummaged through the tools within and pulled out a hand blender. Then he ran over to the cupboard and pulled out a large empty can and filled it with nearby tomatoes. This kitchen was basically his second home. It was large and accommodating for the restaurant staff, but today was a very special day and this was a very personal pizza he was crafting. A task that would require his own personal touch and his alone.

The buzzing and whirring was barely noticeable to Caputo as he began making the pizza sauce. There was a shrill tone in his own mind that was drowning out everything else as he quickly added in dashes of herbs and spices. Finally, he turned back to the clattered ruins of his once organized tool drawer. Withdrawing the ladle he desperately needed, he began to scoop out the sauce into dollips upon the dough. His nerves were on fire as he carefully spread the sauce to the edges of the crust, trying to keep a nice hearty amount of sauce spread out.

“Clarence!” a voice shouted from the kitchen doors.

Clarence Caputo was deaf to the world outside his kitchen. Maybe even just outside his immediate area. His heart was pounding as he began to grate fresh cheddar into a bowl. The mozzarella sat idly by, almost aware of the fact that it would be next. A container with a lid for sprinkling on top was nearby; it contained the final cheese known as parmesan.

“Clarence!” the voice called out again. “Clarence, please!”

Finally, Caputo was snapped out of his trance and looked up to the kitchen doors. Still his hands worked frantically and grated away the chunk of cheese. A look of worry was on the face of a woman that Caputo knew only in this moment as Kelly. Her last name would be lost to him until he was certain his task was done.

“Kelly? Is something wrong?” he called.

“Jeremiago wants to try our line of sodas,” she said, almost in a scared fashion.

“Give him a glass for every one we have on the menu. Give him anything he wants!” Caputo spoke firmly as he grabbed the chunk of mozzarella and a cheese knife.

“We’re out of Dr. Cola! What do I tell him!?”

Clarence fumbled cutting the cheese and the knife clattered onto the countertop. His breath caught in his throat and he quickly threw one of his arms in front of his face to catch his terrible cough. He choked but for only a moment. With a sharp intake of breath, he settled himself and walked over to the kitchen doors.

Kelly’s eyes met his and seemed to be desperately pleading for an answer as he cooly placed one of his hands on her shoulders. With his other hand, he fished money out of his pocket and shoved it into her hands.

“Go to the grocery store and grab a case of the cans. A twenty-four pack. Now. I’ll talk to him.”

Kelly nodded and turned around. Clarence immediately grabbed her arm.

“Go through the back.” Kelly blinked away tears and nodded again. She quickly ran out the back of the kitchen. Clarence took a deep breath and readied himself. Once he found his nerve, he then walked out into the dining area.

Three other employees stood idly by sweating bullets and holding up an arm with a towel draped over it. They had run out of the napkins quite a while ago. They were all watching the only table in the restaurant that was currently occupied. Earlier today, there had been more customers, but when this guest of honor arrived, they all were forced to leave. Some people stood outside the restaurant currently, but the guards of the guest of honor were making sure no one else entered.

“Mister Jeremanto,” Clarence Caputo spoke with his most pleasant voice.

“It’s pronounced Jeremiago,” a deep voice rattled back. “Please.”

“Ah yes, my error. I am deeply sorry, my royal ambassador Jeremiago. I understand you wish to try all the sodas on our menu?” he asked, his voice beginning to crack.

The man stood up. He was seven feet tall and wider than the biggest linebacker Caputo had ever seen. A deep purple glow was emanating from the obsidian-crystalline skin that coated the man. He was wearing a strange space armor of fantastic colors, covering everything below his neck with the exception of his forearms. His arms appeared to be made of quartz and his hands were almost human. The most notable exception was that his left hand had two thumbs, one on each side.

“Master Chef Caputo,” he boomed, “I would be most delighted to try your Earthly soy-dans. I believe trying each one will help me in passing judgement of whether or not your planetoid should be moved into our empire. Please don’t worry if you fail to move me, for it will be a quick process to bulldoze your planet and build a new outpost of our own upon it.”

Caputo gulped loudly as one of the servers broke into tears. The server quickly ran to the bathroom and tried to hide. Caputo looked back to Ambassador Jeremiago.

“We will prepare for you all the sodas we can. I do hope you find one to be enjoyable. The Dr. Colas soda though is one to be saved for last! I’m having my most trusted employee fetch you a fresh batch. It’ll be ready with your pizza!”

Caputo began to sweat as Jeremiago eyed him with his glowing yellow eyeholes. If there were pupils or eyeballs inside those sockets, Caputo certainly couldn’t see them.

After a few minutes of staring, the alien sat back down in his seat. He began to rap his fingers along the table. The strangeness of an eleven-finger-rap seemed to unsettle Caputo just a tad more. Finally, the alien spoke.

“That sounds most enjoyable. Please, do not let me interrupt your baking process.”

Caputo gave a quick bow to him and slowly rushed back to the kitchen. As soon as he made it through the kitchen’s doors and out of sight, he bolted back to the pizza. The mozzarella was sliced up in almost no time at all before Caputo carefully and quickly spread the slices across the pizza. There was a stick of pepperoni behind him that he began to chop up quickly as well. The time seemed to drag for an eternity as he spent only a few minutes preparing the pepperonis.

Once they were all sliced up, he quickly spread them across the pizza and then almost literally threw it into the oven. It was an agonizing wait as he watched the timer he had set up next to the oven. Yet again he became deaf to the world, the only sound he could hear was the tone. He tried to focus and the tone was replaced by the steady clicking of his timer.

Kelly came running back through with the sodas as the timer finally went off. Caputo and Kelly locked eyes and they immediately knew this was going to be it. This was the eleventh hour of their restaurant and the world. Caputo had prided himself on his cooking, thinking it was fantastic enough to get this restaurant up and running. But did he truly believe it was good enough to save the world? There was only one way to find out.

Caputo carried out the pizza on the pan with oven mitts and set it before the ambassador. Empty glasses sat around the table and were pulled aside by Kelly as she opened a can of soda for the guest of honor. His rocky face crackled with noise as he formed a smile.

“Why, this looks scrumptious!” he spoke.

Hope filled Caputo’s heart.

“I wish all the soy-dans were like this!” he said as he began to bite upon the can and stuff the whole soda into his mouth.

Hope and color drained from Caputo as the ambassador then turned to the meal.

“This looks...acceptable. Let us begin the process of consumption,” spoke aloud the crystal alien.

Everyone watched with a mix of horror and suspense as the creature ate. Surprisingly, he was eating the pizza in a perfectly normal fashion. He went through the entirety of the pizza and then, to surprise everyone a bit further, he picked up the pizza pan and began to eat that as well. Once he was finished, he sat for a moment and dabbed at his face with a towel.

“Well, let me take a moment to truly appreciate and digest this meal.”

They all waited five painfully long minutes.

“That was… Acceptable.”

There was a cheer.

“But I believe the true test is desert! I am very interested in trying this cake meal!” he spoke quite chipperly.

Caputo threw up.

“My word!” shouted the ambassador. “You earthlings are quite the strange bunch. I’ll have you know that in our culture, it is quite rude to expel bile in front of other people. Please do not do that again.”

“Ah yes, of course,” Caputo said as he staggered into the kitchen. “Kelly, a moment please.”

Kelly ran into the kitchen. Caputo immediately thrust his wallet into her hands.

“Run down the store and grab the biggest cake you can. I can’t do that again.”

Kelly nodded and ran away. Caputo had always preferred desserts from the grocery store’s bakery anyway. And if the alien didn’t like it, at least he knew it wasn’t entirely his fault.

#writing practice #writing prompt #short story #short stories #cooking #alien #Forty writes

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fortunatowrites · 4 years

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The Statue in the Desert

Part 1 - Goji the Dealer

"Like the berry?"

"Like the suave poker dealer laying down the tools in your battle against Lady Luck," remarked Goji as he spread cards across the felt table.

The eccentric man smiled and waited for all the cards to be laid out. Goji watched as the three other people reached out to pick up their cards. Starting at his left, he simply kept track of them as numbers instead of names. Number 1 was a young woman that seemed very excited to be here. Number 2 was a man who was just there to play and didn't seem interested in anything else. He was quiet and reserved. Number 3 was the eccentric man that seemed to be drawing interest in Goji. Number 4 was a woman who exuded a similar energy to number 2, except she didn't mind butting in to deliver some verbal jabs. Goji took a quick look at them and then slid the Dealer Button to number 1, the woman on his left. Each of them were reviewing their two cards as he burned the burn card and then proceeded to deal the flop. The eccentric man picked up his hole cards and then the four of them began the game, reviewing the cards on the table and those in their hand before announcing bets.

It was a standard game of Texas Hold 'Em and another day for Goji in this casino he called his second home. The eccentric man seemed to be watching Goji as much as he was watching the game and it was starting to make him a little nervous. He was hoping these high rollers would leave considerable tips and make him forget about it.

"Why do they call you Goji?" asked number 3. "It's my name." "Did your parents name you that? Who taught you how to deal? I am feeling so unloved with these hands." Goji forced a chuckle as he burned a card, "Actually, my parents didn't name me Goji. I was renamed Goji after I become the greatest card dealer in the world."

The man cocked an eyebrow as Goji made a flourish of shuffling and burning.

"You do seem quite skilled at your craft." "Well, a long time ago I was thrown out into the desert. There I journeyed to find myself and instead I came across an oasis. Inside of it was a lake and I thought I was finally saved from the harshness of the desert!" "You must have been if you're back here dealing cards," spoke number 1. "Clearly you didn't learn how to tell believable stories from whoever taught you to deal cards," spoke the other lady, number 4, with a stern tone. "In the oasis I dove deep into the water. At the bottom there was a lamp that I pulled free. After bringing it out, a genie was awoken!" Only the eccentric man and the lady on Goji's left seemed to be listening while the other two focused on their cards and dealt with the betting.

"The genie looked upon and said 'I judge you to be worthy!'," Goji began in his impression of a deep voice. "'For your deed this mighty day, I grant you the skills to survive and to become the grandmaster of your craft!' I told him I considered my craft to be making chairs, but he used his cosmic power to know that I was a part-time card dealer. After that, he told me I was now Goji, Grandmaster of Card Dealing." "Boy, this casino is lucky to have picked you up then," chided number 4 before drawing attention back to the game at hand. "Indeed they are..." remarked the eccentric number 3. As the players did their part of the game, the second player finally spoke up. "Why would a genie's lamp be dumped into an oasis?" "It's probably what made the oasis," spoke the eccentric man. "Don't be foolish, that doesn't even make sense," spoke the stern woman. "Oh, but a being of cosmic power able to bend reality and grant wishes being trapped within a little object meant for storing oil makes sense?" joked number 1. "The magic of great beings can affect the world around it. Ambient magic that exists off of their own, like the fumes from oil. Create little ecosystems meant to thrive with life or contain their prison," said the eccentric man ignoring her. "Many deserts are already full of magic, so whoever dropped the lamp there inadvertently made that oasis by allowing the genie's ambient magic to mingle with the desert's." "I guess that would explain how an oasis would have a deep pond of water instead of a shallow reservoir?" number 2 asked Goji. Goji didn't know how to feel about the players seriously discussing his story. "I suppose. I just knew that I was out in the desert and if not for that genie, I would have died. Or at least never become this amazing at card dealing," he said with a wink.

They played another hand and Goji kept burning and dealing. Finally, it was getting to the last hand and the remaining two players were the eccentric man and the stern woman. "Let this river guide me to victory like your genie did, Goji," spoke the man. "I'm relying on you to save me from losing fortune today." "I merely arm you against Lady Luck," Goji began as he burned a card. "Your strength is what will get you victory." The man placed a hand on the table and leaned forward, making it very clear his piercing gaze was aimed not at Goji's eye, but deep to his soul. "Goji, I need you... to arm me properly." There was no smile on his face now. "I'll do my best," Goji uncomfortably joked as he laid down the river, the final card. The man glared at the card and then slowly turned his angry gaze up to Goji. Goji gave a nervous smile. The two of them played their hands and it was clear luck had been in the woman's favor. They gathered their winnings and left tips before heading off. The man who had been player 3 simply walked away. Goji collected the winnings and began to reset the table. He reached for his earpiece to give a call to the floor staff, but found it missing.

"Huh?" he seemed to ask no one at all. He reached back down to the cards to find they were gone. Confused, he glanced around the floor which was empty of people. He looked back down and found the table gone. Looking up, he saw the clock across the floor, but it was missing all of its hands.

"What is going on?" he choked out before he turned around.

Goji tripped a little and regained his balance. He was no longer in his work uniform, now he was dressed more formally and walking across the cement of the parking garage. He looked back into the elevator he had just stepped out of. Turning around, he looked down the row of cars and saw the eccentric man walking towards him. Quickly, he reached back in the elevator and hit the button labelled security; then he waited for the doors to slowly close. The man approached him.

"Heading out?" asked the former poker player. "I'm waiting for a friend to carpool with," responded Goji. "This area is for employees only, y'know?" "Oh I know." He simply stared at him for a minute. "Cool," Goji replied nervously. "You really messed up in not giving me the tools I needed to win, Goji."

Goji excitedly pointed to the security officer approaching. "I'm so sorry to hear that, but I think I see my friend approaching!" "Mister Goji, what did you do with the genie's lamp?" asked the man. "I dunno, it went away," Goji lied. "You seem capable of finding great things. I think I know a way you can make up this loss to me." "Well, I'd love to talk about it, but I gotta meet with my friend."

Goji stepped past the man and walked over to the officer. "This guy is making me super uncomfortable," he said pointing to the man. "Goji, that's not your friend." "Huh?" "He's mine."

A taser went off and everything went black for a moment. Suddenly, Goji found himself sitting in the back of a helicopter. There was all sorts of stuff strapped to him, he was dressed in his work uniform, and his hands were bound by plastic zip-ties.

"Wait... Didn't this... happen?" Goji muttered as drugs coursed through his system. His vision had a pulsing light shining through, but he shook his head and it went away. "Where... am..." he began to struggle before the man turned around. He gave a crooked smile through jeweled dental grills. "You have everything you need. Find something great for me and bring it north. You'll find my camp or get close enough that we'll find you! If you show up without something good for me, you'll find the same result as not coming to me." "...what...?" "You'll die out in the desert." "Why...?" Goji struggled, with his words and body, through great confusion. "The genie! I know you were telling the truth. It all makes perfect sense." "I...lied..." Goji choked out and began to laugh. "N...n...not...real..." The man furrowed his brow angrily. He stood up and cut Goji's wrist-ties before lifting him up. Goji immediately tried grabbing at him, but the man kept slapping his hands away and then shook him violently. "Tell me the truth! Tell me you found that genie!" Goji wide-eyed and scared spoke the truth. "It's...n...not...real..." The man pulled him closed and glared at him. "Then make it true."

The man then literally kicked Goji off the helicopter. As he began to scream and look up at the sun, his vision broke apart as the pulsing light shined back through. He found himself struggling around in the sand and going through the backpack that was strapped to him.

"Oh right... I'm dying," he said aloud to himself.

He was stranded in the Sahara Desert and his life was flashing before his eyes.

#Forty writes #short story #short stories #monsters #genie #desert #magic #fantasy #poker #card dealer #poker dealer #texas hold em

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fortunatowrites · 5 years

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The Reddit Unresolved Plot List and my Rebuttal

A not-comprehensive list of ongoing or abandoned* plotline:

Uldren Sov

Mara Sov

Dul Incaru and the Dreaming City Curse

Eris Morn and the Pyramid Ships

Mithrax and the House of Light

The Traveler being awake/alive again

Ra-ra-rasputin

The Iron Lords (Remember when we became the Young Wolf and started a new tradition of Iron Lords, theoretically?)

Drifter and his gambit

Shin Malphur and his gambit

Praedyth

The entire fucking Cabal Empire. We beheaded them, remember?

Calus and his plans

The Nine and their plans to try and get some hawt bodies

Savathun and whateverthefuck she's up to

Xivu Arath and whateverthefuck she's up to

No Speaker anymore

Cayde's dead and the Hunters don't have a Vanguard

Petra Venj and the Awoken

The Exo Stranger

And many more...

*abandoned as in apparently abandoned, as in haven't been mentioned, progressed or what have you in some time

So this is where I’m typing now. We’re going to assume that “some time” refers to at least two expansions ago. We’re going to count Season of the Forge, Joker’s Wild, and Opulence as one expansion and Season of the Undying will count as part of Shadowkeep’s expansion. So we’ve got several points of talk. Pre-Destiny 2, Destiny 2, Curse of Osiris, Warmind, Forsaken, Seasons, and Undying.

Now let’s crack through that list with what has been the most recent update in these plot lines.

Be warned. Everything below will be a spoiler. So if you’re not caught up in the current Season of the Undying, you run the risk of being spoiled.

1. Uldren Sov. This is by far the easiest of the bunch. During the Season of the Forge, we actually got an update on this guy. Personally, I thought we had reached the end of his story when he died at the end of the Forsaken Campaign. I’ve got plenty more to say on this but will wait for the post dedicated to this one.

2. Mara Sov. Forsaken’s post campaign content was almost entirely about this lady. We’re not sure what she’s currently up to, but it’s been 2 seasons since we’ve heard from her.

3. Dul Incanu and the Dreaming City Curse. Same as Mara Sov.

4. Eris Morn and the Pyramid Ships. This is ridiculous to even be on this list. The pyramid ships were seen at the end of D2 and now we’ve finally gotten a definite answer on that they are part of the darkness. Eris Morn and her moon fireteam have gotten a lot of lore updates from Shadowkeep.

5. Mithrax and the House of Light. I’m not sure anyone even knew Mithrax was important after our first encounter with him on Titan in D2 as part of a side mission. In forsaken, we get lore about him working with guardians and in Seasons (Season of Joker’s Wild) we got this big mission involving him and some more lore. In Shadowkeep we’ve heard more talk of his House of Light from Toland, but not much else. Wouldn’t call it abandoned just yet.

6. The Traveler’s Awakening. To be fair, this has been an over-hyped subject. They made it seem like there was going to be serious change or fallout due to this happening, but we haven’t seen much of what it means. In Curse, we learned it’s messed with the Vex’s Infinite Forest, but other than that, it’s implied that it awoke the Pyramid Ships. So maybe Shadowkeep is the last update we’ve had since it involves the pyramid ships, but overall I feel like there isn’t much more to gain from the awakening. Here’s hoping I’m wrong though.

7. Rasputin. This feels a little abandoned, but also doesn’t feel like there’s more to be explored here. Since Warmind, he’s been awake and apparently launching more satellites to deal with threats and help guardians, but that is a little in the air. There’s stuff about all his protocols that we could learn more about, but otherwise, I don’t agree that there is a hanging plotline here.

8. The Iron Lords. Again, this one feels like reaching. While it would be nice to get an update on the new Iron Lords since there’s apparently guardians taking up the mantle, there isn’t really a hanging plot line either. Nothing foreshadowed to be followed up on.

9. Drifter and his gambit. Season of Joker’s Wild aka Season of the Drifter gave us a lot of info about him. The last update we had was in Season of Opulence (Seasons) where we know he met with Calus and he seems to be against the darkness. There’s more to learn here for sure, but I don’t feel it’s been abandoned yet.

10. Shin Malphur and his gambit. In Season of Opulence we get the Lumina quest and resolution to his and the Shadows of Yor story.

11. Praedyth. We literally just lore books featuring him in Season of the Undying.

12. Cabal Empire. In Forsaken we learn a lot of them are in the Prison of Elders and the rest are scattered like the Fallen’s House of Dusk. Furthermore, in the next season, Season of Dawn, we’re going to get some Cabal plot as they’re trying to use the Infinite Forest to rewrite their loss of the Red War.

13. The Nine. These guys have been a big mystery for sometime and we’ve still got a lot to learn about them I believe. The last big thing we heard about them was Season of Joker’s Wild (Seasons).

14. Savathun. Shadowkeep has stuff in it about her, though not much. We know she’s connected to the Red Keep and trying to become the new Oryx essentially.

15. Xivu Arath. The last we’ve heard about her is Forsaken with her forces being sent into the Dreaming City and an Ogre of hers being within the Prison of Elders.

16. No Speaker. This is one I will agree with. We get lore entries that reference the fact we’re missing one, but no actual plot progressing information. This feels a bit abandoned.

17. Cayde’s Death and the Empty Vanguard position. We’ve actually gotten some updates on these. Cayde’s Death feels done by now but in Season of Joker’s Wild we got updates about how others are reacting to it. Such as the Praxic Order thinking our guardian being a potential suspect in the involvement of such. As for the Empty Vanguard position, it’s almost like the No Speaker position but we have gotten updates about it. Ikora speaks of it in lore in that same Season and mentions viable candidates fled the city.

18. Petra Venj and the Awoken. Once more, Forsaken handled a good bit of this. I would even say that Petra is just synonymous with the Dreaming City curse plot line at this point. As for the Awoken themselves, we definitely learned a ton about them from Forsaken lore and the fate of the Dispensary seems to tie in to this as well. Definitely seems a bit early to call it an abandoned/forgotten plot or one that’s been going for too long without resolution or update.

19. The Exo Stranger. The last update about the Exo Stranger was in Warmind, but granted that is allegedly. There’s a lot of lore that implies her identity, but there are certainly more questions to be answered about her and the fact she seemed to be working with a group in Destiny’s campaign. Yet, I don’t feel there’s an open plot on the subject. Her main mystery was just who she was.

If there’s anything else you’d like me to speak on or look into, please feel free to send a message. Expect some write ups on these subjects that go more into detail about what we know so far in the coming days. (If i dont decide against it or just get too caught up in playing games)

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fortunatowrites · 5 years

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So there’s some traction on Reddit about unresolved Plot Lines

Personally, I feel you on this subject. It’s one of the main reasons I got so into the lore was trying to find answers and satisfying conclusions or continuations of things that seem to happen and then just utterly go away. There are a ton of points that haven’t been pursued and the only thing that keeps me holding on is the faith that they’re busy with other stuff first. It’s like a show that keeps seeding in little plot points and begins to finally follow on them, only to end up throwing in some more and bigger ones. Anyway, for the most part I think people might not have been paying attention to the bigger story at hand, so I’m going to post the popular list of unresolved stuff and then do some write-ups of the story so far that we know.

#destiny 2 #destiny #lore #unresolved

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fortunatowrites · 5 years

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Updated Status of the Hit List of Calus

Calus’ Hit List: Shayotet (Bodyguard) - Slain by Jarus Otzot (psion) - Alive* Iska'al (Friend) - Slain by Rull Aedile (Party master) - Slain by Rull Umun'arath (General) - Alive* Caiatl (Daughter) - Alive* Consul - Slain by Ghaul Ghaul - Slain by the Guardian Statesman Tha’uul (not in Cabal Booklet Hit List) - Slain by the Fulminator

Bonus Round, Shadows of Calus: Feltroc, the Skull-Pierer, Shadow of Psions - Slain by the Red Legion The Fulmintaor, Shadow of the Arkborn - Slain by Ghaul Valus Nohr, the Phalanx, Shadow of Cabal - Slain by Ghaul Sekris, Baron of Shanks, Shaodow of Fallen - Slain by Ghaul Rull, Gun of Kaga Clipse, Shadow of the Clipse - Slain by Ghaul Jarus, the Ace-Defiant, Shadow of the Sindû - Suicide crash delivering Shadows to battle against Ghaul Voyc, Shadow of the Wilds - A psion armed with Leviathan’s Breath and great hunter of Calus. Died from unknown causes during Ghaul’s siege of the Tower, theorized by Banshee to have tried to assassinate Ghaul. Benedict-99, Shadow of Frames - Currently serves Callus

* = Alive means they have not been reported dead, though none of them have been seen by the player or mentioned in other lore as of this writing.

#cabal booklet #emperor calus #destiny 2 lore #shadows of calus #shadow

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fortunatowrites · 5 years

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An addendum I overlooked from Cayde’s Stash:

Sometime after Caliban-8 has left the post and further down the line of Hunter Vanguards, Kauko Swiftriver takes command as Hunter Vanguard. At one point he vanishes, but after two years of nothing and his Dare not turning up, they finally declare him dead. The Speaker orders the rest of the Hunters to figure out how to fill the Vanguard postion. Andal Brash and Cayde-6 go out for drinks and then form their own dare.

A Brief History of the Hunter Vanguard

After the fall of the Iron Lords, the Speaker established the Consensus and the Vanguard. For them he sets the Warlock Vanguard (and Commander) as Osiris and the Titan Vanguard as Saint-14. The very first Hunter Vanguard would be Tallulah Fairwind.

She would go on to participate in the Great Ahamkara Hunt where the first Hunter Dare would be established between her and Caliban-8. Unfortunately, she loses and is killed by the Ahamkara, causing Caliban-8 becomes the new Hunter Vanguard much to his dismay.

It’s unknown who followed up behind Caliban or how many Hunter Vanguards followed, but it is said there’s been quite a few Hunter Vanguards. There have also been several instances of the position sitting empty for a while. The dares eventually lead to a Hunter Vanguard dying without any sign of their Dare.

Two years later, Andal and Cayde-6 make a Dare: a race to see who can get Taniks first, with the loser becoming Vanguard. Cayde-6 won and Andal Brask became the Hunter Vanguard for some time. Unfortunately, his time would be cut short when Taniks somehow returned to life and killed him. Cayde-6 would avenge him and become the Hunter Vanguard, only to be further plagued by Taniks coming back to life several more times.

During the events of Forsaken, Cayde-6 meets an unfortunate fate. He is no longer the Hunter Vanguard and the position stands empty, waiting for the victim of his Dare to step forward or for some Hunters to make their own Dare once again.

#Kauko Swiftriver

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fortunatowrites · 5 years

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A Brief History of the Hunter Vanguard

#Destiny #Destiny 2 #Hunter #Hunter Vanguard #Tallulah Fairwind #Caliban-8 #Caliban #Andal Brask #Cayde-6 #cayde #Forsaken #Dare #Forty writes

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fortunatowrites · 5 years

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Sigil of Man

An inverted Y with a dash across the middle and a shorter dash halfway above that. This red symbol started appearing across the small town of Ashland, Oregon. Roughly five years ago was when the phenomenon was first recorded. It appeared upon the altar inside a church. The next day it appeared upon the door of the church and the neighboring houses. Over time it began appearing upon garage entrances, car’s, walls, and even the roads.

In the first month, it was regarded as an elaborate hoax, done with some strange high quality paint that just couldn’t be washed away by traditional means. In the second month, people grew angry at how often they appeared, but the strangest incident was with a man known as Mr. Clemont. Clemont was angry that his door on his modest home had been defiled. He had a lot of money and rather than attempt to clean the door, he purchased a new one and replaced it. The next day, the symbol appeared on his door. It was after this, the police decided to hold a press conference over the symbols.

No one is quite sure who named them, but the nickname was immediately picked up by the newspapers and adopted by the citizens of Ashland, often referred to as Ashlanders. The Sigil of Man. It was in the police press conference that they revealed the Sigil of Man was being painted by unknown culprits. Any video surveillance of the sigils was somehow tampered with and made to appear as if the symbols simply appeared upon the wall, door, or floor. Within the week, several people came forward with stories of watching the symbol appear. It was said to accompany the sound of something heavy dragging along the symbol. Two people uploaded a video of the phenomenon.

By the end of the second month, panic became widespread. People feared the Sigil of Man and hired investigators. Some abandoned their homes or quit their jobs if it had the Sigil within. As people fled the city, others flocked into it. As the days went by, tensions rose and the Sigil of Man appeared more and more. All of them in the same size and shape, roughly the size of a manhole cover. Eventually there was a riot.

The riot lasted two weeks before Ashland police secured order back to the city. About two months later, tensions lowered. Investigators came back empty handed, no one was able to determine the how or the why of the sigils. Several cults formed or flocked to Ashland. As a result the Ashland PD formed a special Sigil Division for cult and sigil related crimes.

In the present day, five years after the first report of a Sigil of Man, Ashland has a strange order to it. A dishevelled mechanic named Lawrence Rory was beginning to learn just how strange it was. He had just moved in a week ago, but was already learning things weren’t the way he was used to them.

Lawrence pulled his work truck up the gates. Looking left and right, it looked like their fortified fence stretched on for miles, but he knew this congregation needed it. Chains began to rattle as someone climbed over the fence to greet him.

“Mister Rory?” asked a meek man, pushing just a bit past his prime.

“Reckon that’s me,” he responded.

“State your purpose, please,” asked the man.

“Excuse me? You guys are the one that called me, fella.”

“Just confirm it, please.”

“Fine. Someone called me to fix a golf cart,” he spoke without trying to hide the fact he was clearly annoyed by this.

“Thank you.”

Lawrence watched as the man scrambled back over the gate and then began to unlock the chains.The entrance gate wheeled away as he pulled his truck in. Inside were crudely made shacks and people walking around. It almost seemed like how the park should have looked before these weirdos took it over.

The passenger door opened and he instinctively reached for his monkey wrench under his seat. He stopped himself and shifted to placing a hand on the stick shift and watched intently as the meek man settled into the passenger seat.

“No, please, come on in.”

“That way, mister Rory,” the man said, pointing and ignoring the comment.

“Would you like a stroll around the block?”

The man ignored his joke and simply looked forward. Lawrence could see the corners of his lips twitch a little. He was going to make this guy laugh before he was done with this job. It was almost like a personal challenge to himself to prove these folks can be somewhat normal. To better ease his mind about taking their money and fixing one of their cars.

Following as the guy directed, he pulled the car up to a small barn they constructed. It appeared to be one of the few buildings without a Sigil of Man upon it. Along the side of it were doors that had been taken out of buildings and cars that had the sigil upon them. As the meek man got ready to leave the truck, Lawrence pointed to a mangled car door in the line up.

“Bob Ross, right?”

“Heh,” the man said trying to keep his composure.

The man’s face and personality instantly shifted. Lawrence couldn’t help but flinch at the sudden shift. The man’s face grew angry and he turned to Lawrence. He reached for the truck’s car-lighter and pushed it in.

“Hey man, I’m sorry. I didn’t know that was against your rules,” he said, slowly inching his hand towards the wrench.

The meek man pulled out the lighter and then held it before his own face, slowly angling it towards himself.

“Woah woah woah, hold on man! It’s just us, you don’t gotta do anything like that. Look, you guys think everyone is dying soon anyway, right? It can be our secret for just a little wh-”

Before Lawrence could finish, the man drove the lighter into his cheek and tried to muffle his scream. Lawrence didn’t try to muffle his own panicked yelling. He whipped his door open and jumped out to see other cultists approaching. They waited about two feet away as he looked around at them.

“I’m just here to fix a golf cart, god dammit!” he yelled angrily.

They simply waited and stared. Moments passed before he heard the man getting out of his truck. Turning around, he saw the cultist step out and then spread out his arms. There was tension in the air as Lawrence watched them slowly approach him. Then finally the silence broke as several of them lunged upon the burned man.

“Wonderful, brother.”

“I’m so proud of you, brother.”

“Your faith is a testament, brother.”

They were hugging him. And he was hugging them back.

Lawrence looked uneasily at the others as they mostly dispersed back to other parts of their village. One of them approached Lawrence, who still instinctively got ready to fight.

“You’re here to fix my cart, sir?” asked the man.

“...Yeah.”

“Wonderful,” he responded in a monotone manner.

“What the hell was that?” asked Lawrence.

“Noah appears to have transgressed. He broke our new testament, but he redeemed himself. He has shed the weakness of his flesh through a burn.”

“Are there many people with burns here?”

The man lifted up his shirt and Lawrence turned away, sickened by what he saw.

“We are cleansed by the fire. The Incinerates glow.”

Lawrence walked over to Noah and tapped him on the shoulder.

“Can I see the golf cart now?”

“Of course.”

Lawrence went to grab his toolbox from the truck and then followed Noah into the barn. Once inside, he saw a small line of golf carts. There were a couple of banners hanging around, most of them read in large letters ‘Glowing Incerates.’ Lawrence had learned a little about them recently, but all he knew was that they viewed the Sigil of Man as the sign of the apocalypse.

He walked further into the barn and Noah pointed to a section of the bar that had been roped off and had tarps put up, almost like a surgical room in a field hospital. Lawrence gave him a nod and stepped through the curtains. He was beginning to understand why he was being paid so much for something so simple. When he saw the golf cart, he realized it was far from a simple situation.

The golf cart had been damaged like a minor crash, something he had actually seen before in his old state. Though the fix would be simple, he was more worried about how it got broken. In his old state, this sort of thing occurred because some veered into a tree by mistake or while drunk and golfing. The damages on the vehicle were accompanied by blood -- on the outside.

“Looks like you hit something big, Noah,” Lawrence called out.

“Will that be a problem?” Noah responded coldly beyond the curtain.

“I’m not sure.”

“I’ll have them place the cash in your truck now. Along with a 20% bonus. Is there still a problem?”

“...fuck…” Lawrence said under his breath. “I should be all good then. This may take a few hours, but it’ll be quicker if you have spare parts.”

“We have a junkyard of the unrepairables.”

“That could work.”

Noah began to lead Lawrence through to another gated area, this one designated by signs as the Junkyard. He waited as Noah spoke with a member who had burned half of their face. The burned man operated a control box to open up this gate and allowed the two of them in. He pointed to a shack off in the back and told them that’s where mister Rory could find his parts.

Lawrence felt tension as he walked through the junkyard, taking note of all the trash and scrap that the cult had brought into this park.

“Do you know who we are, mister Rory?” asked Noah.

“The Glowing Incerates, right?”

“Yes, that is the name of our group. But do you know our ideals? What makes someone an Incerate?”

“Fraid not.”

“Well let me tell you then. Perhaps you’ll consider joining us.”

“Is this your way of telling me I can’t leave?” Lawrence asked, trying not to sound scared of that idea.

“We don’t force people we invite to stay inside. I just want you to know that we aren’t crazy like the Men of Sigils.”

“The Men of Sigils?”

Noah gave him a look of disbelief before continuing, “Yes, the Men of Sigils. You truly are new in town if you haven’t heard of them. They worship the Sigil of Man and believe it to be the markings of God. Those who receive it on their door are among the blessed in their eyes. They believe the door itself or maybe even the floor within the house could be the holy conduit. But that the symbol will appear near anyone or anything that is blessed.”

“Is that why you guys collect ‘holy doors’?”

“They’re misguided, mister Rory. They’d want to keep those doors, but we have them as reminders. Their belief is only correct in assuming the sigils are a judgement from God. His judgement is out of anger though. We cannot understand how he works or what his plans for the symbols are, but one thing is clear.”

Noah stopped and turned to face Lawrence, their eyes locking and Noah’s face growing intense.

“God is angry and he will wipe us out. Now is the time to repent and stop enjoying this sinful world. Those who live happily are complicit with the sinners. We live in harmony together here. Suffer the flame to remove sin, suffer the world to enjoy enlightenment.”

“You think God wants you to burn yourself when you laugh?”

“Only in the presence of the unclean.”

Noah turned back to the shed and walked up to the doors. Lawrence took a moment to examine himself and look around once more.

“Guess that means I belong with the garbage, huh?” he muttered under his breath as he followed Noah inside.

Once inside, Lawrence saw a large guard with a hunting rifle and six hospital beds. One of the beds was empty and overturned, but the other five had people in them. Surprisingly, only one of the people looked to be critical enough to be in a bed.

“Uh,” Lawrence began to say.

“He was the driver,” spoke Noah, who then pointed Lawrence towards their storage of parts.

“Get well soon,” Lawrence muttered as he went over to an area full of shelves and parts. There was a broken cart against one of the walls. With his tools in hand, Lawrence set to work in dismantling the pieces he needed from it.

As he worked, he glanced back over at the beds. The somewhat uninjured looking people were handcuffed to their beds. Lawrence shifted his gaze back to the man with the rifle who was watching him. Lawrence smiled, but the rifleman simply glared back. Noah nodded to the guard and stepped outside. With a sigh, Lawrence turned back to the cart.

Later, he finished removing a large battery from the cart. He didn’t need the battery, but it was large and heavy. A two-man job.

“Hey, buddy,” Lawrence called out.

“I’m not your buddy,” responded the guard.

“Can you lend me a hand with this?” Lawrence said, motioning to the battery.

“No.”

“Wow. I thought you guys were helpful. And here I was thinking maybe I was impure.”

“What was that?”

“Just you know… Everyone needs somewhere and I was beginning to think you guys seem to know what’s up. But if it’s the continued dog-eat-dog world in here…” Lawrence said slyly.

The guard seemed to look around before rubbing his neck and slinging his rifle over his back. The gun hung from a strap and bounced as he began walking over to Lawrence. He grumbled something indignant as he stood nearby.

“Where are we taking this thing?” he asked.

“Just outside the door will be fine,” Lawrence spoke as he slowly reached for his monkey wrench.

The man crouched down and leaned forward, exposing his head. Lawrence began to sweat as he battled internally about this decision. He was sure those people locked to the beds shouldn’t be, but he couldn’t be sure. He also couldn’t be sure that they’d survive if he leaves them here. He took a deep breath and the guard looked at him with a confused look. The guard’s eyes quickly darted to the monkey wrench and he stood up angrily, slowly swinging his gun around.

“Oh, uh, um,” Lawrence began to loudly stutter, realizing he messed up.

Suddenly, the door was kicked in. They both looked over to see a man in a make-shift tactical uniform enter with a handgun. He quickly scanned the room and pointed at the guard. As the guard raised his rifle, two more men entered behind the tactical man with rifles. They fired on the guard and Lawrence pressed himself to a wall.

The injured man in the bed sat up and shouted something about infidels, but the tactical man grabbed his face and slammed him back down on the bed.

“None of you are pure, you fucking madmen,” he spoke.

Turning back to the two men with him, “Free the prisoners. This cult ain’t keepin’ this civilians for the heresies of an order they don’t follow.”

He slammed the man’s head on the bed twice more before the body went limp. Then he approached Lawrence and holstered his gun.

“Seeing as how you didn’t rush us in a suicidal attack, I’m going to assume you’re the mechanic.”

“How d-did you…” he began to stutter.

“We saw your truck outside. We’re going to commandeer it to get this people to safety. I’m Burnes.”

“Who are you guys?” he asked as he watched them use bolt cutters to chop all the handcuffs.

“You’re really unfamiliar with the Defense of Ashland Committee?”

“I just moved here…”

“Hell of a place to go. Do you want to go at gunpoint or dragged?”

“It was really cheap. And what?”

Burnes grabbed Lawrence by the scruff of his collar and pushed him forward, unholstering his sidearm and pushing it into his back. Lawrence quickly got the idea and led them out.

They stepped outside, Lawrence leading them to his pick-up truck. Burnes followed behind, a hand on his shirt and the other gripping his gun as he scanned for any Incinerates. The four prisoners followed behind them with the two gunmen on either side, watching for trouble. Noah was laying across a pile of garbage.

“Did you kill him?” asked Lawrence.

“Yep. When they force us to come in here, we make sure the message is loud and clear. We don’t want any cults in Ashland.”

“Ohhh, you guys are those anti-cult vigilantes!”

“Shut up and walk,” Burnes said, smacking him in the back of the head.

They managed to make it unseen to the truck where they all proceed to climb in. Burnes sat in the passenger seat and put three of the prisoners in the back. The two gunmen and the fourth prisoner laid down in the bed of the truck.

“Now drive us out of here.”

“How’d you get in?” asked Lawrence as he started the car.

“Climbed the fence and got a team waiting for us nearby. Any other stupid questions?”

“How’d you know to find us?” weakly asked a man in the back.

Burnes turned around to face him, “We had a man at the incident. He saw them interfere with the Templar’s gathering, striking their knight down with the golf cart. Then they took you ‘heretics’ in for listening to the man.”

“The religious order that’s come to restore God’s Order to Ashland,” spoke one of the prisoners, placing a hand on Lawrence’s shoulder.

“Thank you,” Lawrence quietly said, before turning to Burnes, “Do they count as a cult?”

“Kind of, but they mostly stay in their lane as a crazy sub-sect of their beliefs. They think God’s made this place holy and they’ve got a similar goal to us.”

“I feel so responsible for the injuries of Sir Fitmoore,” spoke the first man.

“Why? Did you know the Incinerates were planning to jump him? He fucked that driver up good though for a man with a sword.”

“He came to talk to me, because I was giving a sermon to the others. I left the Templar.”

“Why would you do that?” Burnes asked, leaning forward and becoming a tad more interested.

“I discovered the truth of the symbols.”

“Did you now?” Burnes asked, becoming more intense.

“They’re the marks of a higher calling and there is a new disciple, a prophet of the lord. The marked man.”

Burnes simply stared as the car came to a stop.

“What’s wrong, you don’t like what he’s saying?” asked Burnes.

Lawrence had parked the car at the gate, “We’ll need someone to open it up.”

Burnes whistled and directed one of his men to open it. As the man got out, someone took a shot at him. The other gunman immediately got up and fired upon him. The shooter slumped over, dead. The two gunmen nodded to each other and then the first one got out to open the gate. Once it was open, they drove through.

“So… the marked man? I thought the sigil only appeared on walls and doors,” asked Lawrence.

“They’re a new order. They’re worshipping a guy with the sigil, but no one can confirm how he was marked. They call themselves the Marked Followers,” spoke Burnes, cutting off the prisoner. Everyone fell silent as Lawrence was instructed to drive further out into the woods. Eventually they came to two other cars that had been waiting. Burnes got out and instructed everyone to step out.

“Alright folks, it’s time we got you back to the city. You’re all going home. Even you Lawrence,” he said, motioning with his free hand to point at everyone.

“I’ll just wait in my truck.”

“That’s fine, Lawrence.”

More vigilantes got out of the cars to start helping people with the handcuffs. Burne walked over to the prisoner who had quit the Templar.

“You regret leaving the Templar?” he asked.

“Not at all. I’ve found the true li-”

BLAM!

Everyone turned to look at Burne, holding his firearm up as the former Templar collapsed to the ground. He holstered his weapon and held up his hands.

“Everything’s fine for the rest of you non-cultists. I just wish he had regretted joining, then maybe we could have saved him.”

Lawrence puked over the side of his truck. Everyone got into their vehicles and the DAC drove away. Lawrence sat there, staring at the body laying out in the middle of the woods. His gaze shifted back to inside his truck where he saw the cash and what tools he had been able to bring back to his car.

“I shouldn’t have moved here,” he said as his eyes welled up with tears.

#creative writing #writing practice #writing prompt #free writing #Forty writes #drama #religion #supernatural #vigilantes #cult #cults #templar knight

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fortunatowrites · 5 years

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The Woes of a Villain

The wall exploded as the superhero came charging through. The villain was caught completely by surprise and had been watching the open door of the entrance and exit of his base. He almost seemed lost in thought before raising a fist.

"Libert-" he began to yell.

Liberty Touchdown immediately threw his Freedom Football at the sinister Slaystation. His powerful football, charged by the hopes and spirits of the American Dream, slammed directly into the villain's chest. Despite wearing a large suit of knight's armor, the blow was strong enough to knock him off his feet and into the wall.

Liberty Touchdown made a running charge against him to slam his shoulder into the villain. The football bounced on the floor before flying back to the side of LT, where it fit snugly into a holster. The wires crackled and sizzled as they started to fall out from between the pieces of armor. His villainous gadget had short circuited and now he was trapped inside the armor.

"You may have been so quick to beat me, Liberty Touchdown, but you never-" began Slaystation before a brick cracked against the top of his helmet. He was knocked out cold.

Liberty Touchdown looked up to see a hollow space where the brick came from. Looking into the secret compartment, he found a faded leatherback book.

"Hmm, is this the secret planbook of your villanous plans? The answer to your double evildoer?" he spoke with a voice full of patriotism. The unconscious villain failed to reply, but the Freedom Football vibrated.

Touchdown nodded to his football and began to read the book.

Dear diary,

I hate Liberty Touchdown. How long have I been trapped here at this villain's mercy? I thought I won a free game system from a contest, but it turned out to be a scam. Or I misread this guy's name. I'm but a humble electrical engineer, my humility making me the greatest in the tri-state area, and this guy knew it! That's why I'm stuck here working on gadgets. I saw Liberty Touchdown and thought he'd save me, but he just whalloped on the villain and then ran off with him. Now I'm still here and the exit caved in from that oaf crashing through the wall.

Signed, Theodore

Dear diary,

I am grateful that I found this book and a pen to write in it, but I just about lost my mind when I lost you a week ago. Since then, I've rewired most of this place to work still. There's so much food in the kitchen, I guess Slaystation has a big appetite. I'm still trapped here and no one is looking for me.

Signed, Theodore

Dear diary,

I had to hide you quickly, I've sketched plans in here for building my own suit of armor and making it a power suit. I think that's how Slaystation works. But he escaped the prison or wherever they took him, because he's back. He told me he likes what I did with the place and I'm fulfilling the destiny I was meant for.

Signed, Theodore

Dear diary,

I really hate Liberty Touchdown. He came through AGAIN. He also left me here, AGAIN. Guess what happened to the exit this time? He blew it up with the device Slaystation forced me to build. So here I am AGAIN, but at least I know where all the tools are this time. Also Slaystation restocked the kitchen, which was really nice. I don't how he knew I liked blueberries.

Signed, Theodore

Dear diary,

I did it! I built my power armor and it works perfectly! I have super strength now and have been clearing the rubble. Maybe I could be a hero after this? But first, I'm going to get this place up and running. Then I have to take care of that awful meathead, Liberty Touchdown.

Signed, Theodore

Dear diary,

Slaystation broke out again. He's impressed with my power armor and wants me to join him. I told him I'd really like to go home, so he threw me the cell again. I managed to get out though and write this entry. The stupid exit is reinforced with steel and security codes now, so I'm still stuck here.

Signed, Theo

Dear diary,

LIBERTY TOUCHDOWN. WHAT A MORON. I don't even need to explain what happened. I swear to god though, I'm gonna beat him senseless. I'm putting on my armor and rebuilding this place as soon as I finish this.

Signed, Slaystation 2

Dear diary,

I've been thinking about it. Maybe I can forgive him. I just need to hear an apology and why he left me. Then maybe we can fix the world. I've got to work on my monologue, he'll be here any moment.

Signed, Theodore

Liberty Touchdown closed the book and picked up Slaystation. He grumbled a bit and cleared his throat.

"Man, I wish I could read."

And then he took Slaystation to prison. Later, Liberty Touchdown would be suspended from superhero activities due to his gross negligence. Slaystation 2 would remain in jail for tax fraud.

The End

#writing practice #creative writing #free writing #writing prompt #short stories #short story #forty writes #knight #super hero #super villain

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fortunatowrites · 5 years

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fortunatowrites · 5 years

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The Cosmic Catch

Prompt: Based upon this image

“We’re a family. I’ll do whatever it takes to save my family.”

Six of the twelve residents stood by the windows of the Wasawful Space Station. The thirteenth was currently tiptoeing along the outside of their airlock, working his way over to a broken device that regulated their oxygen while moving outside the designated paths. They all held their breath with anticipation, hoping they wouldn’t need to continue holding their breath.

Currently, they had air left and no one had to hold their breath, but it was growing far too low, far too fast.

A child looked up to a woman. “Mom, why is John out there?” he asked. “Because John believes in our space program. He believes we’re truly family once we’re beyond the gravity of our home world and he’s the only one brave enough to risk his life for all of us.” John delicately pulled himself across the station, just barely within the reach of its generated gravity. His suit was adequate enough to protect him from the dangers of space, but one wrong move and he’d be flung out into the deep reach, never to be seen again. He finally let out a sigh of relief as he reached the devices that needed to be repaired.

Working with the tools he brought with him, he began the labor that would decide if the 12 people aboard the station would continue to live. Everyone watched with bated breath, trying to catch any glimpses of him beyond the airlock.

Finally, they heard the sounds of their vents kicking back on and everyone let out a sigh of relief. There was a cheer of joy and thankful shouts celebrating John. John felt a wave of relief wash over him as he began to tiptoe back to the airlock. That had been the most stressful thirty minutes of his life. Until he slipped.

There was a collective gasp as people noticed he was drifting away. A child shouted for him to come back, but it was already too late. He began to spin and float away, his speed steadily increasing. He fought back tears and held out both hands, giving signs of peace. Trying to tell them to carry on without him. It was a bittersweet victory for the Wasawful Space Station.

John drifted through space for what felt like an eternity. Stars, planets, moons, asteroids, and space debris flew past his vision as he spun through. His mind drifted to great memories on Earth and fresher memories from the station.

“Please,” he began to speak, “if anyone out there is listening… I just want to go home…”

John drifted through more silence. Sorrow was his only friend now and it was a lonely companionship. Suddenly, he stopped spinning and slowed to a stop.

“What?” he spoke aloud as he righted himself. He slowly spun around and saw a small dwarf planet. Around the top of the planet, there was an asteroid belt revolving. As he marvelled at the sight, wondering how he had suddenly hooked into its gravity, the planet sped up it’s revolutions. It stopped after completely turning around, revealing strange masses on the front. There was a mountain ridge rising along the middle that peaked in the south. It seemed to be like a nose shape. Below the point of the mountain, there was a canyon with a small crack, resembling lips.

“My god, this planet has a face,” he remarked.

The planet suddenly stopped revolving and faced him. He jerked back, but then truly fell back, doing a flip, when two large empty eyes opened open the planet. The features of the face were truly highlighted as he looked upon it.

“Wary traveller, I am the celestial of Ruwaen.”

The voice was soft, but booming. Just lightly echoing within his helmet.

“H-hello,” he stuttered, “I am John Froneirt.”

“Your name is interesting, I don’t believe I’ve seen your kind before.” “Thank you, it’s French. I think.”

“Why have you entered the galaxy of Ruwaen?” the celestial asked.

“I had no control. I fell off my home and drifted without control. I’m a little thankful that I’ve stopped. Sorry that I’m about to die in front of you.”

“Why will you die? Are you elderly?”

“No it’s my suit,” he said motioning to the white space suit on himself. “This allows humans, my race, to survive in space. But it doesn’t last forever.”

The celestial’s eyes glow as they looked upon the spaceman, then they turned to gazed out into the distance. “Why not follow your spectras back to your home?”

“What’s a spectras?”

“Your spectrum of time, spectrum of space, spectrum of light; the spectras.”

“I’m not sure humans can see those. Unfortunately, even if I could, I can’t control where I go.”

“Do you want to go home?”

“More than anything.”

“How did you end up drifting through space?”

“I had to fix our home to help my family survive in space. It was dangerous, but it worked. I just happened to fall off before I could get back inside.”

“Be careful not to do that again,” spoke the celestial as a hand of stone rose beside the planet.

“Aga-?” John began.

Before he could finish his question, the hand pushed against him and sent him spiraling back through space. He spun ever so slightly as everything sped by his vision. John had become a bullet shot across space and following an invisible path.

Eventually he slammed against the side of the Wasawful Space Station. They assumed it was a large piece of space junk, until they heard the doors of the airlock being operated.

“I told you he’d come back!” cried out a child as John re-entered his home.

“I’m glad to be back,” he said, dropping his helmet.

He looked back the window and whispered, “Thank you celestial of Ruwaen.”

#creative writing #writing practice #writing prompt #free writing #Forty writes #space #planet #asteroid #astronaut #space station #interstellar #celestial #galaxy #short story #short stories

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fortunatowrites · 5 years

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Ouija Board vs 8-Ball

Nikolas and Codie were celebrating at Codie’s childhood home, the place where they grew up together and truly bonded as friends. Nikolas was getting married next week and they wanted to have a quiet bachelor party. As they laughed and went through items that brought back fond memories, they came across a ouija board.

“Oh man, remember how scared of this you used to be?” teased Nikolas.

“Yeah, man. Lots of evil magic in that thing…” Codie replied.

“Well, if you hadn’t figured it out, I controlled it,” Nikolas said with a smirk. “What?! You said the spirits were moving the board!” “Ha ha ha, no way, my friend. You’re supposed to have multiple people for it to work. You were too scared to touch it so I always just did it myself.”

“Well, you know what this means,” Codie said, setting aside his beer and clearing a table. “That we’re going to use it up in the attic?” Nikolas shot back.

“Uh… Yeah…” Codie awkwardly replied, suddenly a little hesitant about his plan.

Codie didn’t like the attic.

Brushing aside enough cobwebs to create several uncomfortable sweaters, the two of them pulled aside some boxes and a tiny plastic table. All of Codie’s childhood stuff was kept up here, but they had no other adults here to judge them so they used what they could for seats and got ready.

“Shall we...contact the dead beyond the mortal veil?” Nikolas said with a flashlight under his chin, trying to sound ominous.

“We’ll see if they can figure out if you were dropped on your head,” joked Codie.

“Was I dropped on my head?” asked Nikolas.

Nikolas gently led the ouija piece over to the yes and the both of them laughed.

“What is your name?” asked Codie.

Nikolas began to push it towards P for Parker Bros, but suddenly the piece pulled away. It led them over to G. Then U. N. N. A. R. Nikolas looked up to Codie and cocked an eyebrow. “Gunnar?” he said with a smirk. “Ha ha, funny,” Codie replied unamused.

“That’s a good bit,” Nikolas responded.

The ouija piece began to move again. M. Y. “My?” asked Codie. B. L. O. O. D.

“What are you doing?” asked Nikolas. L. U. S. T.

Nikolas pulled his hand off of it. Codie kept his hand on it.

N. E. V. E. R.

Codie let it go. The piece pulled as he let it go and it stopped on S.

Nikolas and Codie looked at each other. The table shooked and they both shot up out off of their boxes. Nikolas tripped over his box and toys spilled out onto the floor. Codie went over to help him up, nearly tripping on a magic 8-ball.

“Dude,” Nikolas said. “I swear that wasn’t me,” Codie responded.

“We should stop.”

“Yeah.”

Nikolas got up and grabbed the 8-ball. Smiling with it, he showed it to Codie.

“Maybe we should ask this for help.”

The table shook again and scooted closer to them. Codie shrieked and Nikolas kicked the table over. The ouija board slid across the floor and the piece stopped on T.

“I’m getting the heck out of this house,” replied Codie as he ran over to the attic door.

The stairs folded up and the door slammed shut on its own, causing Codie to fall back and scream again.

The ouija board cursor moved again and they both turned to see it on O. P. S.

“My bloodlust never stops?” Nikolas spoke aloud.

The board burst in flames. A spectral viking face could be seen in the flames, he was silently screaming and gnashing his teeth as the flames roared and rose. “Oh my god!” screamed Codie.

“At least the house isn’t catching fire!” cried out Nikolas. “Nikolas! Come on! We’re getting attacked by a ghost!”

“Sorry! I’m just panicking!” he said.

The ghost stepped out of the dying flames, the full figured frame of a dead viking, still bloody from battle. He was clear as day, slightly transparent, and had a glowing blue hue to him.

The two of them screamed. Nikolas shook the 8-ball violently. “Am I going to die?!”

“NIKOLAS!” cried out Codie, almost as angry as he was scared. The 8-ball made a low loud that sounded like an elephant’s foot step and they both looked to the screen on it.

“Only if you don’t repeat the incantation.” “What in the world!? What incantation!?” cried Codie.

The viking snarled loudly and swung around his spectral axe, slicing through another box of toys and papers. The sliced items showered upon the attack like a hail storm. There was another thud from the 8-ball.

“Stell’bsna uln orr’e hupadgh shogg shtunggli shugg.”

Codie immediately cried out the words before Nikolas could say anything. The 8-ball began to shake in his hand and his eyes began to hurt. He dropped the ball, which shattered and vanished as the ghost took a step back. Nikolas clutched at his eyes and cried out in pain.

Codie reached out to touch him, but immediately pulled back in pain, his hand covered in frost.

“Nikolas?” He looked up at the ghost and muttered something. The ghost screamed a ghostly wail as he began to seize and twist as hands made of shadow burst forth from him. More hands reach out from the corners of the attack and tore him apart, dragging him into the shadows and vanishing. His screaming face was the last part to be stolen into the dark, the ghostly scream fading away as something sinister gurgled an unearthly noise.

Nikolas fell forward and passed out. Codie hesitantly reached out to touch him, finding him safe to touch now. He then helped get him out of the attic and down onto a couch. When he laid him out, he gasped with shock. Nikolas’ eyes had been bleeding. As Codie began to dial an ambulance and loudly pray for his friend to wake up, Nikolas suddenly awoke.

“Codie? Did we die?” he choked out.

Codie slammed the phone down and ran over to him.

“Do you need help!? How are you feeling? What happened!?”

“Dude, stop crying,” Nikolas said as he rubbed his head as if he had been up drinking.

Wiping the blood from his face, he looked at Codie in shock.

“I feel a little groggy, but the last thing I remember is the 8-ball.”

“Oh thank god you’re okay. You suddenly said some kinda spell and the ghost was just totally destroyed. I almost felt bad before I remembered he was gonna butcher us.”

“Oh my,” Nikolas said staring at his hands. “Well. We’re safe now. Thank god for that 8-ball, right?”

There was a sudden knocking at the door. Nikolas immediately grabbed Codie’s arm and locked eyes with him. The grip felt a little cold. “Don’t answer that,” he whispered plainly.

Codie shifted his weight nervously as he looked to the door. “Really, please don’t,” Nikolas responded, this time worried.

“Please let me go,” he asked and as soon as he finished saying it, Nikolas let him go.

As Codie approached the door, he heard Nikolas scurry into the kitchen. There was almost the faint sound of heavy metal as he opened the door. Codie gasped as he stared out at the strange visitor.

A man was standing at the door with a noose around his neck. The rope hanging from his neck had been cut and hung just past his chest, almost like a crude leash. The man was wearing a leather jacket that looked like it had been through hell and had several questionable stains on it. He was rugged, dirty, and unkempt judging from his look in general. A cracked motorcycle helmet was hiding his face.

Codie could feel an obscene anger radiating off of this man. He tried to slam the door, but the man’s hand shot out like a blur to catch it.

“Did you do it on purpose?” he growled.

“W-what?” he stuttered “The 8-ball,” he said, literally pressing his helmet against Codie’s face and causing Codie’s knees to wobble with fear.

“I don’t know what I did.”

“There are other ways to deal with ouija problems, but 8-balls are far worse. Summon your dark beast and I’ll save your soul before it’s too late.”

“Huh?” he said, starting to involuntarily tear up.

“He’ll still listen to you, ask him to come out here.”

“Don’t do it!” shouted Nikolas. The stranger pushed his way inside as knives flew out of the kitchen. He punched the blades aside and leapt into the kitchen with an angry guttural yelling. Codie listened as the battle ravaged the kitchen and simply sat down on the couch.

I guess the wedding is off?

#creative writing #writing practice #writing prompt #free writing #Forty writes #emissary of hell #demon #lovecraftian #8 ball #ouija board #ghost

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