Ganondork
goo
- Joined
- Nov 12, 2010
Hello there everybody! I feel like I want to write another series. I'm not finished with Adventure to Skyloft and will post a chapter of each every other day. So one day will be this, then Adventure to Skyloft, and then repeat. Thank you for reminding me Atsuma. This story is rated PG-13 for violence, blood and gore, language, sexual content and alcohol reference. Without farther Adieu, let's begin this new story!
A large room was occupied by many people, all sitting around a large table. Their only forms of light were candles and torches placed around the walls and on the table which flickered and threatened to go out multiple times. Nobody ate, drank and told merry tales, no, they all looked from one person to the other.
One of them was a Templar.
A Templar; an organization wishing to bring order through human enslavement. Nobody else at the table wanted to meet such a fate. From a blonde-haired woman with rosy cheeks, to a bald-headed portly man – with a gut reaching past his share of the space under the table – all were wary. This entire meeting was not called by choice; ignoring it meant death.
Slowly a middle-aged man stood up. He was the only one with a glass of wine in his hand. His blonde hair was slicked back and his golden robe showed that he lived well above the others at the table. On his shoulder was a red cross; the insignia of a Templar.
“Thank you everyone!” He greeted as he took a sip of his wine. Nobody said anything for a moment, but he didn’t seem to notice. “You must all be wondering why I called this meeting.” He pointed to the group on his left, “Friends,” He pointed to his right, “Family. We are united by our bonds, and it is time we grow closer together and you join the Templar’s.”
Once again, nobody said anything for a very long time. The Templar surprised that nobody responded, awkwardly stood and looked around.
“Templar, you have made a grave mistake.” A voice said. The Templar glanced around, his eyes portraying bewilderment and fear.
“Assassin?” He asked. His cheeks grew red with anger – and embarrassment. “Assassin, show your face!”
His command wasn’t answered by the Assassin, but everyone else did. People, terrified, ran for the door. The Templar tried his best to block their path; hoping to salvage what was once a Templar initiation – even if it was against their will. The flames that kept the room well-lit began to flicker again. Screams of fright echoed around the walls and people pushed, shoved, and even kicked, other people out of the way.
The meeting was clearly over, leaving the Templar and the Assassin all alone.
“Assassin, you dare ruin this, and yet you still feel the need to kill me?” He bellowed anger evident in his voice. All of the fear and embarrassment had quickly subsided as he drew out a large sword – the same sword he was going to threaten his guests with.
The candle near the Templar went out.
“Are you trying to scare me?” The Templar asked. “I do not feel fear, even if you are a Demon of the Shadows.”
The torch above his head flickered out, leaving part of the room in absolute darkness.
“Trying to increase your kingdom of the Dark? I will never beg for my life like you want me to, I am a proud Templar, and I will kill you!” He yelled, but fear was obvious in his voice now.
He saw a blur of motion as the torch to the far end of the room went out.
“Aha! Assassin, I know where you are!” He called, feeling triumphant.
A loud hissing noise was heard before the Templar let out a screech of pain. In his right leg was a throwing knife, blood trickled out of the wound. The Templar – clearly insane at this point – took the knife out of his leg and held it above him. “I will not fall victim to your cheap tricks!” He yelled, feeling far more triumphant than before. He didn’t notice the open wound was releasing blood at an almost alarming rate.
The final candle went out, bathing the Templar in darkness. It wasn’t so dark that he couldn’t make out objects; he just couldn’t find his way to the door – which was his new goal. The combined difficulty of it being dark, and the open wound made getting to the door next to impossible.
Something fell on the disoriented Templar, and disappeared seconds later.
Cause of death of the Templar: two knives to the throat.
People in the streets of Paris could see a figure on top of a tall building on the water. The Parisians watched in intrigue as the figure jumped off the top and dove into the water.
Prologue
A large room was occupied by many people, all sitting around a large table. Their only forms of light were candles and torches placed around the walls and on the table which flickered and threatened to go out multiple times. Nobody ate, drank and told merry tales, no, they all looked from one person to the other.
One of them was a Templar.
A Templar; an organization wishing to bring order through human enslavement. Nobody else at the table wanted to meet such a fate. From a blonde-haired woman with rosy cheeks, to a bald-headed portly man – with a gut reaching past his share of the space under the table – all were wary. This entire meeting was not called by choice; ignoring it meant death.
Slowly a middle-aged man stood up. He was the only one with a glass of wine in his hand. His blonde hair was slicked back and his golden robe showed that he lived well above the others at the table. On his shoulder was a red cross; the insignia of a Templar.
“Thank you everyone!” He greeted as he took a sip of his wine. Nobody said anything for a moment, but he didn’t seem to notice. “You must all be wondering why I called this meeting.” He pointed to the group on his left, “Friends,” He pointed to his right, “Family. We are united by our bonds, and it is time we grow closer together and you join the Templar’s.”
Once again, nobody said anything for a very long time. The Templar surprised that nobody responded, awkwardly stood and looked around.
“Templar, you have made a grave mistake.” A voice said. The Templar glanced around, his eyes portraying bewilderment and fear.
“Assassin?” He asked. His cheeks grew red with anger – and embarrassment. “Assassin, show your face!”
His command wasn’t answered by the Assassin, but everyone else did. People, terrified, ran for the door. The Templar tried his best to block their path; hoping to salvage what was once a Templar initiation – even if it was against their will. The flames that kept the room well-lit began to flicker again. Screams of fright echoed around the walls and people pushed, shoved, and even kicked, other people out of the way.
The meeting was clearly over, leaving the Templar and the Assassin all alone.
“Assassin, you dare ruin this, and yet you still feel the need to kill me?” He bellowed anger evident in his voice. All of the fear and embarrassment had quickly subsided as he drew out a large sword – the same sword he was going to threaten his guests with.
The candle near the Templar went out.
“Are you trying to scare me?” The Templar asked. “I do not feel fear, even if you are a Demon of the Shadows.”
The torch above his head flickered out, leaving part of the room in absolute darkness.
“Trying to increase your kingdom of the Dark? I will never beg for my life like you want me to, I am a proud Templar, and I will kill you!” He yelled, but fear was obvious in his voice now.
He saw a blur of motion as the torch to the far end of the room went out.
“Aha! Assassin, I know where you are!” He called, feeling triumphant.
A loud hissing noise was heard before the Templar let out a screech of pain. In his right leg was a throwing knife, blood trickled out of the wound. The Templar – clearly insane at this point – took the knife out of his leg and held it above him. “I will not fall victim to your cheap tricks!” He yelled, feeling far more triumphant than before. He didn’t notice the open wound was releasing blood at an almost alarming rate.
The final candle went out, bathing the Templar in darkness. It wasn’t so dark that he couldn’t make out objects; he just couldn’t find his way to the door – which was his new goal. The combined difficulty of it being dark, and the open wound made getting to the door next to impossible.
Something fell on the disoriented Templar, and disappeared seconds later.
Cause of death of the Templar: two knives to the throat.
People in the streets of Paris could see a figure on top of a tall building on the water. The Parisians watched in intrigue as the figure jumped off the top and dove into the water.
The figure was not seen after that for a long time.
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Only a few very minor mistakes. Keep it up.
