Post by zolomon on Apr 28, 2006 17:57:06 GMT
It was a clear night with no clouds in the sky... The half-full moon shone over the earth together with all the many, bright stars in the blackness of night, throwing a silver glow to the ground, trees. A thick sheet of mist covered the land as far as the eye could see, giving it a peaceful look, as if the earth was sleeping from all the troubles of daytime. Although it was Bedoe territory, the land was level and grassy, much like the majority of Lavertia lands. The plush grass continued on until mount Hyagerling, if looking north, towards Bedoe, reaching to the great maple forest, located near the border between Lavertia and Bedoe, if looking to the south. As Bedoe’s border came closer, the trees became more scarce, until there was just grass. Only a few trees grew on what was considered Bedoe’s territory here, but the one closest to the mountains had always been considered a special tree, a giant cherry tree called Hyanogerling by the peoples that lived here before Dragonians conquered Bedoe, the true nordlings of Dragonia. Very little information can be found in modern days about them, but there still are some things called in the names that those peoples gave them, there are even rumours of lords in Bedoe with the blood of the ancient peoples in them...
With his back to Hyanogerling sat a man in a long, black cloak, looking at the white peak of Hyagerling in the distance, almost as if looking for something, a sad, possibly melancholic sigh escaping his chest. “Why must Bedoe always suffer...” he said in a low and gruff voice, like that of an old warrior with many scars of battle and many years of warring behind him. He was obviously troubled and saddened by something, seemingly a terror that had befallen his homeland, which he loved dearly. His sadness was clearly viable through the cloak, which didn’t expose his face or even body, but couldn’t hide the darkness he felt looming overhead, which could be visible to anyone, seeing as how miserable he looked, sitting there.
The cold wind, although in Bedoe it would be considered quite warm, grew stronger, and suddenly petals of cherry blossoms took to the sky, swirling in the air, like children playing. The hooded man chuckled, thinking of the children of Bedoe, and then a cherry blossom slowly drifted from the branches of the tree, and he caught it in his large palm, holding it open, admiring the beauty of such a little thing. “I must prevent the destruction... the death... at all costs...” he said to himself, and then suddenly raised his head, as he heard something nearby.
“How can you protect anything if you’re already dead?” someone shouted, seemingly appearing out of nowhere, a blade drawn. The character was also hidden, wearing a long, emerald-green cloak, which was dark enough to be difficult to notice, yet reflected some of the moonlight, giving the robe a luxurious shine. The blade was headed straight for the man from Bedoe’s head, but he quickly drew his blade, stopping the attacker with little effort.
“You do not touch this tree...” he said, and then stood up. The black-robed man was, in fact, nothing short of a giant, standing over six feet tall, towering over his attacker. In fact, the blade he held seemed no less impressive, also looking to be about as long as it’s wielder, and seeming truly a difficult weapon to wield. “What are your intentions and what business do you have here?” he said, menacingly bringing his blade behind his back, holding it in his fighting stance, ready to strike at any moment.
“It doesn’t matter to you... I do what I will...” the green-robed attacker replied, taking a round metal shield and holding it in front of him, getting ready for a fight. The shield had some emblem on it, but it was too dark to make it out. Although he was quite a bit shorter than his opponent, the attacker didn’t seem to fear the black-robed man at all.
“You better watch your tongue... It concerns me what a lavertian is doing in my lands and why he comes to Hyanogerling with a sword... And it maters just as much to Koyorjaal,” he replied, gripping the handle of his monstrous sword tighter.
“I answer to no bedoean...” the green-robed man almost whispered, and then suddenly attacked, attempting to stab the man from Bedoe, however he evaded the attack, swinging Koyorjaal around in a counterattack. The lavertian parried the attack with his shield, but barely managed to stay on his feet, as the power of the blow sent him staggering to his right. For such an enormous and obviously heavy blade, the bedoean seemed to wield it with unbelievable ease.
The black-robed man laughed, raising his blade to eye-level, pointing it at his attacker. “You better be careful... a little shield like that can’t protect you from Koyorjaal all to well, you know...” he said, and then charged at the lavertian, attacking with a fierce horizontal sweep.
“Don’t get cocky just because you have a big sword!” the lavertian said, ducking an letting the blade swing overhead, then thrusting his left arm forward, hitting the bedoean hard in the chest with his shield, following up with a blow to his head with the handle of his sword. However his jab missed, and the large man pushed him back with a powerful kick.
Not saying a thing, the two pounced back at each other and swung their blades in unison. Suddenly both of them stopped and took several steps back. The large man noticed a large cut in his robe, and chuckled. He took the robe off, revealing himself. The lavertian also had to laugh, as he had a very similar cut in his robe, which he also discarded. In the only plain of Bedoe stood the two kings, Isaac Vulcanon and Andrak Mikomora. With a smirk, they went at each other once again.
With his back to Hyanogerling sat a man in a long, black cloak, looking at the white peak of Hyagerling in the distance, almost as if looking for something, a sad, possibly melancholic sigh escaping his chest. “Why must Bedoe always suffer...” he said in a low and gruff voice, like that of an old warrior with many scars of battle and many years of warring behind him. He was obviously troubled and saddened by something, seemingly a terror that had befallen his homeland, which he loved dearly. His sadness was clearly viable through the cloak, which didn’t expose his face or even body, but couldn’t hide the darkness he felt looming overhead, which could be visible to anyone, seeing as how miserable he looked, sitting there.
The cold wind, although in Bedoe it would be considered quite warm, grew stronger, and suddenly petals of cherry blossoms took to the sky, swirling in the air, like children playing. The hooded man chuckled, thinking of the children of Bedoe, and then a cherry blossom slowly drifted from the branches of the tree, and he caught it in his large palm, holding it open, admiring the beauty of such a little thing. “I must prevent the destruction... the death... at all costs...” he said to himself, and then suddenly raised his head, as he heard something nearby.
“How can you protect anything if you’re already dead?” someone shouted, seemingly appearing out of nowhere, a blade drawn. The character was also hidden, wearing a long, emerald-green cloak, which was dark enough to be difficult to notice, yet reflected some of the moonlight, giving the robe a luxurious shine. The blade was headed straight for the man from Bedoe’s head, but he quickly drew his blade, stopping the attacker with little effort.
“You do not touch this tree...” he said, and then stood up. The black-robed man was, in fact, nothing short of a giant, standing over six feet tall, towering over his attacker. In fact, the blade he held seemed no less impressive, also looking to be about as long as it’s wielder, and seeming truly a difficult weapon to wield. “What are your intentions and what business do you have here?” he said, menacingly bringing his blade behind his back, holding it in his fighting stance, ready to strike at any moment.
“It doesn’t matter to you... I do what I will...” the green-robed attacker replied, taking a round metal shield and holding it in front of him, getting ready for a fight. The shield had some emblem on it, but it was too dark to make it out. Although he was quite a bit shorter than his opponent, the attacker didn’t seem to fear the black-robed man at all.
“You better watch your tongue... It concerns me what a lavertian is doing in my lands and why he comes to Hyanogerling with a sword... And it maters just as much to Koyorjaal,” he replied, gripping the handle of his monstrous sword tighter.
“I answer to no bedoean...” the green-robed man almost whispered, and then suddenly attacked, attempting to stab the man from Bedoe, however he evaded the attack, swinging Koyorjaal around in a counterattack. The lavertian parried the attack with his shield, but barely managed to stay on his feet, as the power of the blow sent him staggering to his right. For such an enormous and obviously heavy blade, the bedoean seemed to wield it with unbelievable ease.
The black-robed man laughed, raising his blade to eye-level, pointing it at his attacker. “You better be careful... a little shield like that can’t protect you from Koyorjaal all to well, you know...” he said, and then charged at the lavertian, attacking with a fierce horizontal sweep.
“Don’t get cocky just because you have a big sword!” the lavertian said, ducking an letting the blade swing overhead, then thrusting his left arm forward, hitting the bedoean hard in the chest with his shield, following up with a blow to his head with the handle of his sword. However his jab missed, and the large man pushed him back with a powerful kick.
Not saying a thing, the two pounced back at each other and swung their blades in unison. Suddenly both of them stopped and took several steps back. The large man noticed a large cut in his robe, and chuckled. He took the robe off, revealing himself. The lavertian also had to laugh, as he had a very similar cut in his robe, which he also discarded. In the only plain of Bedoe stood the two kings, Isaac Vulcanon and Andrak Mikomora. With a smirk, they went at each other once again.