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Army Fluff Khorne Short Story

Discussion in 'Fluff and Stories' started by TheCrazyKhorneGuy, Oct 4, 2018.

  1. TheCrazyKhorneGuy
    Saurus

    TheCrazyKhorneGuy Member

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    ok i haven't made a name for it yet but here's what i have so far:


    Exalted Deathbringer Orayszheld, who was known as the Butcher, viciously ripped his Skullgouger, which was a claw-like gauntlet that he wore around his fist, out of the heart of the Free Peoples General. The body collapsed, dead. Orayszheld swiped the head from the body with an easy swing of his Ruinous Axe, and held it aloft for all to see. Abruptly, the combat stopped. Mostly, he heard cheers and growls from his own warriors, but also there were moans of utter defeat from his enemies. Their last and only hope stood with their General, and when he fell, so did their desire to fight. Then Orayszheld spoke, his deep voice resonating throughout the small town, "Your leader was a brave and worthy opponent, and so has been your army, but alas the time has come to name a victor, and today that victor is the Chosen Sons of Khorne! But since you and your leader were such worthy opponents, I will give each of you a choice, either join us in the Dark Feast, or become meat for it!" Roars of cheering Bloodreavers echoed off the walls of the nearby buildings, and the Blood Warriors clanged their weapons together. Most of the Free Peoples soldiers looked down in shame as they moved to partake in the horrible ritual, but others who were brave enough stared defiantly at Orayszheld. "Then you will all DIE!" he fumed at them, "kill them that refuse Khorne's generous gift!" he commanded his warriors. Almost instantly, the Free People were covered by a tide of bloodthirsty and angry killers. In seconds it was over and the feast was prepared.
     
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  2. TheCrazyKhorneGuy
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    TheCrazyKhorneGuy Member

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    Chapter 2: The Encounter:


    Orayszheld continued his path of destruction of the Free Peoples towns until he had enough warriors to begin a siege of the main city, Sunbane. His horde was marching on Sunbane when all of a sudden a bombardment of pure Azyr lightning came down about 50 yards from the army. As the dust cleared, Orayszheld could see brightly armored warriors clad in golden and blue heavy plate. Orayszheld recognized them as Stormcast Eternals, the all but immortal warriors of the self-proclaimed god of the Heavens, Sigmar Heldenhammer. Orayszheld grinned with excitement as he had been longing to face these profound warriors on the field of battle. He roared encouragement to his warriors, "Remember Sorros, the failure of a Mighty Lord of Khorne?" He yelled, all around him faces cringed with disgust as they recalled the many failures of their past leader. "He failed so many times, yet Khorne let him live, for one purpose, to use him and his pathetic army as a test to Sigmar's new threat to our perfect world. To show the rest of us the strength and weaknesses of our new enemy. And we give thanks to Khorne for that great display. What have we learned from our enemies? We have learned that they lack only in one thing. Numbers. Our force here today outnumbers theirs thirty to one. Although they have great strength and skill, we have tons more bodies." The warriors were getting riled up now. "We will strike at them with so much speed and precision that they won't know what hit them! Go my warriors, strike quickly, and overcome!"
     
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  3. Paradoxical Pacifism
    Ripperdactil

    Paradoxical Pacifism Well-Known Member

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    Nice story!

    It's pretty unique and cool to see from the prospective of a Khorne follower.

    Also, this probably belongs in the fluff subfourm, so one of the mods will probably move this thread there.

    @Scalenex
     
    Last edited: Oct 4, 2018
  4. TheCrazyKhorneGuy
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    TheCrazyKhorneGuy Member

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    oh ok thank you for the kind feedback
     
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  5. Paradoxical Pacifism
    Ripperdactil

    Paradoxical Pacifism Well-Known Member

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    Additionally, i would recommend trying to avoid writing the entire story into a single paragraph, and instead, brake it up into smaller paragraphs/lines.

    With each having 2-5 sentences. That way, it can make it easier for the reader's eyes to read the text (you only have to single space between the lines, but i prefer double spacing).
     
    Last edited: Oct 4, 2018
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  6. TheCrazyKhorneGuy
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    TheCrazyKhorneGuy Member

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    Exalted Deathbringer Orayszheld, who was known as the Butcher, viciously ripped his Skullgouger, which was a claw-like gauntlet that he wore around his fist, out of the heart of the Free Peoples General. The body collapsed, dead. Orayszheld swiped the head from the body with an easy swing of his Ruinous Axe, and held it aloft for all to see. Abruptly, the combat stopped. Mostly, he heard cheers and growls from his own warriors, but also there were moans of utter defeat from his enemies.

    Their last and only hope stood with their General, and when he fell, so did their desire to fight. Then Orayszheld spoke, his deep voice resonating throughout the small town, "Your leader was a brave and worthy opponent, and so has been your army, but alas the time has come to name a victor, and today that victor is the Chosen Sons of Khorne! But since you and your leader were such worthy opponents, I will give each of you a choice, either join us in the Dark Feast, or become the meat for it!"

    Roars of cheering Bloodreavers echoed off the walls of the nearby buildings, and the Blood Warriors clanged their weapons together. Most of the Free Peoples soldiers looked down in shame as they moved to partake in the horrible ritual, but others who were brave enough stared defiantly at Orayszheld. "Then you will all DIE!" he fumed at them, "kill those that refuse Khorne's generous gift!" he commanded his warriors. Almost instantly, the Free People were covered by a tide of bloodthirsty and angry killers. In seconds it was over and the feast was prepared.

    Orayszheld continued his path of destruction of the Free Peoples towns until he had enough warriors to begin a siege of the main city, Sunbane. His horde was marching on Sunbane when all of a sudden a bombardment of pure Azyr lightning came down about 50 yards from the army. As the dust cleared, Orayszheld could see brightly armored warriors clad in golden and blue heavy plate. Orayszheld recognized them as Stormcast Eternals, the all but immortal warriors of the self-proclaimed god of the Heavens, Sigmar Heldenhammer.

    Orayszheld grinned with excitement as he had been longing to face these profound warriors on the field of battle. He roared encouragement to his warriors, "Remember Sorros, the failure of a Mighty Lord of Khorne?" He yelled, all around him faces cringed with disgust as they recalled the many failures of their past leader. "He failed so many times, yet Khorne let him live, for one purpose, to use him and his pathetic army as a test to Sigmar's new threat to our perfect world. To show the rest of us the strength and weaknesses of our new enemy. And we give thanks to Khorne for that great display.

    "What have we learned from our enemies? We have learned that they lack only in one thing. Numbers. Our force here today outnumbers theirs thirty to one. Although they have great strength and skill, we have tons more bodies." The warriors were getting riled up now. "We will strike at them with so much speed and precision that they won't know what hit them! Go my warriors, strike quickly, and overcome!"

    As Orayszheld's forces advanced toward the Stormcast Eternals, a spectral spy watched from the natural cover of the distant hill. "Hmmmmm." The spy mused in an almost reptilian voice, as he stared at the muscular form of Orayszheld giving orders to his troops, as if he knew Orayszheld's fate, "We could use that one."

    Orayszheld let out a bloodcurdling scream, "CHARGE! Charge and crush them like bugs!" Atop the hill, there were three mighty Stormcast Eternals, Lord-Celestant Ulman CometRoar, who sat proudly on his dracoth, Rex, Lord-Relictor Ilyord Hammershield, and Lord-Castelant Korard CrushingKin. Orayszheld picked them as his targets and roared, "Those three are MINE!" His Slaughterpriest whispered into his ear, "Lord, you cannot possibly take on all of them." In a blink of an eye Orayszheld was holding the Slaughterpriest's decapitated head in his hand. He squeezed and all of a sudden, "Pop" the head exploded into a bloody paste that sprayed all over Orayszheld.

    Orayszheld's army surged up the hill only to be met with volleys of Heavenly arrows and Ballista bolts. To the servants of the Evil Chaos gods, these projectiles burned like fire catching on dry grass. Even still, the crazed horde continued to push to be the first to engage the armored warriors at the top.





    this is what the story has come to so far
     
  7. TheCrazyKhorneGuy
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    TheCrazyKhorneGuy Member

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    this is the first chapter done that i used for the contest

    A Brutal Life


    Exalted Deathbringer Orayszheld, known as the Butcher, viciously ripped his Skullgouger, which was a claw-like gauntlet that he wore around his fist, out of the heart of the Free Peoples General. The body collapsed, dead. Orayszheld swiped the head from the body with an easy swing of his Ruinous Axe and held it aloft for all to see. Abruptly, the combat stopped. Mostly, he heard cheers and growls from his own warriors, but also there were moans of utter defeat from his enemies.

    Their last and only hope stood with their General, and when he fell, so did their desire to fight. Then Orayszheld spoke, his deep voice resonating throughout the small town, "Your leader was a brave and worthy opponent, and so has been your army, but alas the time has come to name a victor, and today that victor is the Chosen Sons of Khorne! But since you and your leader were such worthy opponents, I will give each of you a choice: either join us in the Dark Feast or become the meat for it!"

    Roars of cheering Bloodreavers echoed off the walls of the nearby buildings, and the Blood Warriors clanged their weapons together. Most of the Free Peoples soldiers looked down in shame as they moved to partake in the horrible ritual, but others who were brave enough stared defiantly at Orayszheld. "Then you will all DIE!" he fumed at them, "Kill those that refuse Khorne's generous gift!" he commanded his warriors. Almost instantly, the Free People were covered by a tide of bloodthirsty and angry killers. In seconds it was over, and the feast was prepared.

    Orayszheld continued his path of destruction of the Free Peoples towns until he had enough warriors to begin a siege of the main city, Sunbane. His horde was marching on Sunbane when all of a sudden, a bombardment of pure Azyr lightning came down about 50 yards from the army. As the dust cleared, Orayszheld could see brightly armored warriors clad in golden and blue heavy plate. Orayszheld recognized them as Stormcast Eternals, the all but immortal warriors of the self-proclaimed god of the Heavens, Sigmar Heldenhammer.

    Orayszheld grinned with excitement as he had been longing to face these profound warriors on the field of battle again. He roared encouragement to his warriors, "Remember Soros, the failure of a Mighty Lord of Khorne?" He yelled, all around him faces cringed with disgust as they recalled the many failures of their past leader. "He failed so many times, yet Khorne let him live, for one purpose, to use him and his pathetic army as a test to Sigmar's new threat to our perfect world. To show the rest of us the strength and weaknesses of our new enemy. And we give thanks to Khorne for that great display.

    "What have we learned from our enemies? We have learned that they lack only in one thing. Numbers. Our force here today outnumbers theirs thirty to one. Although they have great strength and skill, we have tons more bodies." The warriors were getting riled up now. "We will strike at them with so much speed and precision that they won't know what hit them! Go my warriors, strike quickly, and overcome!"

    As Orayszheld's forces advanced toward the Stormcast Eternals, a spectral spy watched from the natural cover of the distant hill. "Hmmmmm." The spy mused in an almost reptilian voice, as he stared at the muscular form of Orayszheld giving orders to his troops, as if he knew Orayszheld's fate, "We could use that one."

    Orayszheld let out a bloodcurdling scream, "CHARGE! Charge and crush them like bugs!" Atop the hill, there were three mighty Stormcast Eternals, Lord-Celestant Ulman, who sat proudly on his dracoth, Rex, Lord-Relictor Ilyord, and Lord-Castelant Korad. Orayszheld picked them as his targets and roared, "Those three are MINE!" His Slaughterpriest whispered into his ear, "Lord, you cannot possibly take on all of them." In a blink of an eye Orayszheld was holding the Slaughterpriest's decapitated head in his hand. He squeezed and all of a sudden, "Pop" the head exploded into a bloody paste that sprayed all over Orayszheld.

    Orayszheld's army surged up the hill only to be met with volleys of Heavenly arrows and Ballista bolts. To the servants of the evil Chaos gods, these projectiles burned like fire catching on dry grass. Even still, the crazed horde continued to push to be the first to engage the armored warriors at the top. The stone-cold masked warriors of the Stormcast Eternals held the line, but the huge mob did not relent, one by one the front line of shield-bearing Liberators fell as the slower but more heavily armored Blood Warriors joined the fray. Lord-Celestant Ulman realized his doom when an unseen mass of Chaos Knights smashed into the flank of his army. He could see the cunning smile on Orayszheld’s face and Ulman understood that he had underestimated the cunning brutality of his opponent. No Khorne general has fought like this since… his thoughts trailed off, “Oh no.” he muttered fearfully, “Not again. Not again.”


    “What is troubling you, my lord?” asked Lord-Relictor Ilyord, hearing the fear in his leader’s voice. “I did not start out as a Lord-Celestant as most did,” replied Ulman, “I was just a Liberator-Prime, content with leading my squad, fighting Chaos, and dying for Sigmar for eternity, but alas nothing lasts forever. I was in a battle, fighting for my life, when my squad were all slaughtered like cattle,” “No!” Ilyord interjected angrily, “Stormcasts cannot be killed. They must have died glorious deaths and been reforged.” “They never got the chance, you see, I was very reckless. As the battle was going on around me, I saw that we would lose. The general of the Khorne army was smart, much like this one we face now. He flanked us with Knights and Mighty Skull Crushers. I saw that we would lose unless that general was slain. All my warriors were as reckless as me, and when I suggested that we go and assassinate the beast, they all agreed and cheered. We flanked around the side, all thirty of us. The thing was, we all knew he saw us but did not send any troops to deal with us. Instead, he looked at us and smiled, a dirty, evil smile, and said, ‘Know your killer, insects of Sigmar. I am known as Orayszheld, the Butcher. And you will know no more.’

    “We all laughed and jeered at him knowing that we had the easy victory, we were wrong. We charged him, and he met us head-on. We knew he would be a powerful opponent, but we were not ready for what hit us. He charged into our shield wall and shredded through it like butter, he cut through the first few men like paper, then we started to recover from our shock. As we fought back, we all realized that as he butchered our brothers, there was an absence of the normal shafts of lightning every time one of them died. Horrified, we attacked him with renewed vigor and righteous anger. As our blades and greatblades slashed and cut him to a bloody mess of a man, he laughed the whole time, then as one of the remaining warriors who carried a greatblade swung, the Butcher blocked the attack with his axe and then punched the Liberator in the face with a clawed gauntlet. As the warrior staggered back, the Butcher hacked into the doomed man, cutting him in two. I then realized we were doomed. So I yelled a final charge and we fought like cornered animals, but he was just playing with us by then. He would make a show of every Stormcast he would kill. Eventually, all were slain, all except me. I was a coward then. My actions on that day have haunted me through the centuries.” “What did you do?” the Lord-Relictor asked, “I… I played dead!” anger and shame rising in the Lord-Celestant’s voice. Ilyord was shocked at those words. “Surely not Lord.” “It… Is… True.” Ulman replied.


    “Blood for the Blood god!” screamed a Lord of Khorne riding atop a huge Juggernaut as he charged at the two leaders. He must be the general leading the flanking force. Ulman thought. He quickly glanced around for the melee leader of his troops, the Lord-Castellant Korad. He realized that his commander had gone to help the front of the fight, so he turned to face the Korne lord himself. As he urged his Dracoth into the fray, he noticed with fear that Korad was locked in vicious combat with the Exalted Deathbringer. I have to finish this lord quickly. Hold on Korad. He thought. Ulman charged into the lord on juggernaut and swung his Tempestos Hammer with renewed vigor. The hammer hit the chest of the lord and catapulted him off the juggernaut, who was in his own battle with Rex, and into a squad of Retributors. He did not return.


    After Rex took care of the rampaging juggernaut, Ulman wheeled him around and galloped down the hill and into the worst of the fighting. Liberators were dropping like flies. Even the sturdy Paladins were falling to the swarm of crazed berserkers. As he searched for Korad, he was surprised to see the lifeless bodies of many Paladins and Liberator-Primes, all his champions, heartlessly butchered without remorse. The surprise was that Stormcasts do not normally leave bodies when they are killed, but Sigmar sends lightning down to retake their immortal souls. Ulman followed the trail of carnage until he heard the unmistakable sound of steel on steel. He pushed his way through a horde of Bloodreavers and was shocked when the marauders just moved out of the way and let him pass. At first, he thought they were scared of him, but he then remembered that Orayszheld had declared Ulman as one of his targets and his troops were more afraid of their general than Ulman. As he made his way through the mass of berserkers he realized that they had formed a crude arena for their general to fight in. Inside the arena were Orayszheld and a very bloodied Korad. Ulman immediately smashed through the BloodWarriors in front of him and Rex leaped into the arena, all at once a huge shaft of lightning slammed onto the ground between Orayszheld and Korad, soaking Korad in its healing light and pushing Orayszheld back in agonizing pain. Korad quickly jumped up, grabbed his halberd and readied himself for the onslaught to continue. The lightning gave Ulman and Ilyord, who had been following Ulman all this time, time to regroup and get ready to face Orayszheld. “You cowards.” Orayszheld laughed evilly, “Even with all three of you fighting, you can’t beat me. I’ve never been beaten, not by any man, beast or spirit. Fighting you will be like breaking twigs.”


    Before the others could stop him, Korad let out a roar and ran strait for Orayszheld, swinging his halberd right at his throat. Orayszheld was waiting for this, so when Korad charged him, he looked for an opening, found it, spun away from the halberd, and executed a perfect slice into Korad’s exposed torso, tearing a huge gap into his stomach. Korad doubled over in pain, realizing his mistake too late. “The rage of the Blood god getting to your brain caused you to not think clearly enough, and in one on one combat, victory goes to those that think on their feet and do not second guess themselves.” Orayszheld explained calmly to Korad, as if he were lecturing his own son.


    “Aaagghh!” Orayszheld screamed as he was burned by the holy lightning of Simar. He looked over and saw Ilyord channeling his magical powers through his reliquary staff. “Your next, Relic-Bearer!” he promised through gritted teeth. Suddenly, as he was distracted by Ilyord, he was flung forwards as a huge hammer blow slammed into his back. He sprung to his feet, ducked the next blow, and delivered a strong high kick into the face of Rex. Then he turned, and with lightning speed he ran straight at Ilyord, who was closing his eyes in concentration for another powerful blast. Ilyord was not expecting to get smashed into the blood-soaked ground, so he flung his hammer out to try to catch on Orayszheld, but he missed, and came crashing down. Orayszheld took the opportunity to jump on top of him and as he did, he sliced his axe down onto the arm of Ilyord, severing it off completely. But before he could go for the head, Ulman was there, he had fallen off his Dracoth and charged Orayshzeld, but it was too late. Without his commanders to help him, he was quickly defeated and thrown to the dirt in a heap.


    In his victory, Orayszheld calmly walked over to each Stormcast and casually removed their heads. His victory was short-lived however, as thousands of shafts of light rained down on his army. Out of those lights came towering reptile-like-men called Seraphon, the lizard warriors made quick work of Orayszheld’s depleted army.


    In a few hours, all that was left of the massive Khorne horde was Orayszheld, but he knew no fear, for he had just slain three of Sigmar’s best. He charged straight for the largest of the lizardmen and jabbed his skullgourger right into his opponent’s stomach, as the warrior fell, Orayszheld was suddenly trapped in a sphere of energy. He tried his hardest to break out of this prison but every time he slammed his body into the walls of the cage, his energy was sapped from him. Soon he gave up, and just lie there waiting for his imminent fate.


    Hours later, he woke to the sound of reptilian voices. One creature looked like an overweight toad riding on a hover chair. The creature approached him and spoke. Orayszheld was surprised he could understand it. “I am Lord Kroak, the oldest Slann to walk the Mortal Realms.” “Yeah, so what. What do you want from me?” “We will make you a warrior for good and not evil. We will team you up with a few other experimental warriors, and we will send you out to repulse the evil of Chaos.”


    Then all went black. Orayszheld was no more.


    Until now.
     
  8. TheCrazyKhorneGuy
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    “Uugghh.” He groaned, as he sat up in his bed, wait, a bed? He thought, “Aaarrrggghhh!” he roared. He picked up the bed with both hands and as he was going to throw it against the wall, he realized that he was in a tent, and he was smart enough to know that if he threw the bed, the whole tent would collapse. He walked outside of the tent and chucked the bed about thirty yards into a pile of huge rocks, it crashed into the rocks and broke into splinters. “That felt better,” he muttered, “I haven’t slept in a bed in centuries, only dirt floors, just like any of my men.” He looked around, “Oh no, my men!” he shouted. Suddenly, he was engulfed in pain, he collapsed, screaming, holding his head in his hands, as the memories poured in.
    All the death, all the pain, all the suffering you caused, echoed a voice in his mind. He opened his eyes and saw a battlefield, a battlefield drenched in blood, the battle had taken place in a huge, but narrow gulley, thus the blood was about shin height, and limbs and heads were floating around in it. He saw one man standing alone in the gore-soaked ditch, the man was a huge muscle-bound savage, and as the man turned, Orayszheld realized he was staring at himself, only a few years ago. Orayszheld remembered this fight, it was the goriest, bloodiest, and most brutal fight of his long life. There were thousands dead on both sides. The elves of the deep fought surprisingly well for elves, who are known by the followers of the Blood God as cowards that just retreat and shoot, retreat and shoot, until their opponents were dead. But these, these were different. They fought directly in melee with the Blood Bound warriors, but in the end, as always, the Blood God was victorious, for even if his followers lost the battle, he would still have his fill of blood, because his followers would fight to the death. There is no retreat with the forces of Khorne.
    As Orayszheld watched himself go to each and every body and slice off its head, he felt a feeling he hadn’t felt in, well, forever. “What is happening to me? Back at the tent, I would have thrown the bed no matter where I was, I would have immediately looked for a weapon, but no, I just stood there, vulnerable, out in the open, looking like an idiot. And now this feeling, what is it?” he was asking no one in particular but his younger self turned as if he could hear Orayszheld’s questions. All of the sudden, his eyes glazed over, and a blue hint glowed from them, as he spoke, you have been cleansed, cleansed of your past failures, your butchery of thousands, your mutilation of hundreds, it has all been erased, you are now a vessel of good, a force against your former brothers-in-arms. About the bed, because you have been cleansed of some of your psychotic berserker rage, you had the time and patience enough to leave the tent and then execute your anger. We have not, however taken your tactical mind to grab a weapon, you were just confused. And the feeling? That is guilt, my friend, guilt for all your past wrongs. In short, we have made you a human again, instead of a savage marauder lusting for the next kill.
    Orayszheld replied, “you said ‘we.’ Who is this we? And who are you?
    I am lord Kroak, the slann that met you on the battlefield for the outskirts of Sunbane, and the we are all the other slann that helped turn you into what you are today.


    next chapter finally
     
  9. TheCrazyKhorneGuy
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    “HELPED ME?! What do you mean, helped me? This is Horrible! I am – was – a follower of Khorne. I do not feel guilt. I was a lord of hundreds of thousands of men. The Chosen Sons of Khorne were the biggest, baddest, and most ruthless army in the Mortal Realms, rivaling even that of the Goretide. Now it’s gone! You ruined me!” his voice started wavering and he did something he had not done since he was a child, he sobbed.

    That’s when he woke up.

    still going on with the story
     
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  10. Paradoxical Pacifism
    Ripperdactil

    Paradoxical Pacifism Well-Known Member

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    I really love the character development of Orayszheld. I like it when very strong characters gradually grow into something else much more weaker (i love weak, regular characters that are gradually made unique such as normal skinks and saurus).

    Personally, i would suggest slowing down the pacing of the entire story. In my opinion, everything is going too fast in places where things should be taken much more slowly.

    You can slow down the pacing by adding in more sentences that focus on imagery. You can even combine imagery with characterization as well in order to slow down the pacing more.

    For an example, from the first paragraph of a short story:

    Notice how the protagonist's feelings and beliefs (characterization) are mixed in with the imagery or the scenery of the story. This is a very good way to set the tone, feeling, theme, or scene (or all of them) in a story. You've actually already done this anyway in the first part of the story, so that's all good :D


    So yeah, in my opinion, when a story reaches an important plot point, or character change point within the story, the pacing needs to be slowed down in order to better immerse the reader into the story.

    oh, and take my critique with a grain of salt - i don't know what i'm talking about :joyful:
     
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  11. TheCrazyKhorneGuy
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  12. TheCrazyKhorneGuy
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    “Ha ha ha! The infamous Orayszheld the ‘butcher,’ crying like a little baby! Hilarious!” mocked a strange reptilian voice, different from the voice of his memory. Immediately, he stood up from his kneeling position on the ground, and wiped his eyes, embarrassed. “Who are you?” he asked. “I am your fre—frein—companion. I was made in the same way you were. I was just a generic skink until the slann summoned me.” he seemed lost in thought, “But that is a story for another time. I am Crek’Tlechtlul, a skink wizard, and another one of the band of warriors the slann seem to be creating. From what Kroak has told me, there seems to be one more of us, but he is a little bit delayed. So right now it’s just you and me.”

    “Just you and me eh?” “Yes…” Orayszheld grinned devilishly, “you seem like a nice enough guy, but,” he paused, “in order to regain my dignity, no one can see me in that state again and live to tell about it. So I’m sorry, but you have to die. Nothing personal. You understand.” With that, he charged Crek’Tlechtlul and grabbed the skink’s neck with his bare hand, which was about the size of Crek’Tlechtlul’s head. Crek’Tlechtlul struggled, and eventually moved one of the fingers off of his throat just enough so he could speak, “Slann!” he yelled in a hoarse voice. Orayszheld screamed in anguish and chucked the skink as far as he could before his knees buckled and he toppled over, obviously in intense pain. Crek’Tchtlul recovered from that massive throw that slammed him against his own tent and crushed it. He was ecstatic, “It worked! It worked! Yes!” but then he saw Orayszheld’s condition and ran over to him. “Jeez buddy, you almost killed me. A second more and I would have been dead. I didn’t have time to explain this to you before you attacked, but you, and I’ve been told the other warrior as well, have a code word. If I say this word, you immediately stop what you are doing and convulse in agonizing pain. I am only supposed to use it if you attack each other or me or yourself. I didn’t think it would work.”


    here's more
     
    Last edited: Dec 10, 2018
  13. TheCrazyKhorneGuy
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    TheCrazyKhorneGuy Member

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    i'm on a writing spree.


    “I…Hate…You!” Orayszheld cried through gritted teeth. “One day, I vow, I will kill you.” “Now don’t go psycho on me. We have a job to do. The pain will subside eventually.” Crek’Tlechtlul replied. Orayszheld stood and growled, “Where do we have to go and what do we have to do. I should say I, not we, because you are so weak that if we come up against anything bigger than a Grot then I will have to do everything.” “Yes I am weak in combat, but you will come to appreciate the powers that the slann have given me.” “Wait a minute.” Orayszheld said dangerously, “Are you a spellcaster?” “Yes I am, I know how your former kind feel about magic users, but you need to remember that you are no longer a follower of the Blood God.” “Yes, I know, it is Unfortunate, for I would have liked to spill your blood as I cut out your eyes, then I would slice off your arms and legs to make it even more painful for you.” Crek’Tlechtlul stared at him in horror, and muttered aloud, “Kroak was right. Khorne does make his followers into complete savages. We need to get some sleep. Tomorrow is the day we trek out of this canyon to begin our long journey to liberate a stronghold currently held by Chaos.” “Fine.” Orayszheld said with obvious defiance to taking orders from a weaker being than himself. My old life was so simple, where the strongest takes the lead. Now it is so confusing.

    After getting some needed sleep from the ordeal the night before, Crek’Tlechtlul opened his eyes and sat up in his bed only to find Orayszheld’s sleeping form trembling on the floor of his tent, his skin singed and burnt horribly in some places. “What happened to you” Crek’Tlechtlul asked. And then he looked up to see the sun through a huge hole in his tent, which there wasn’t much left of. “I tried to kill you in your sleep, but a heavenly voice uttered that cursed word and I got hit with a lightning bolt.” Orayszheld said as he woke up. “Have you learned your lesson yet?” Crek’Tlechtlul scolded, “Yes.” Orayszheld replied grudgingly, “Good. Let us be on our way then.” “Wait.” Orayszheld said, “I need a weapon.” “Oh, right. Can you send something down please?” Crek’Tlechtlul asked the sky. A bolt of lightning hit the ground ten feet from where they were standing, and when the light faded, in its place lay a huge axe that looked to Orayszheld exactly like his old one. “Yes Orayszheld, it is the same one.” Crek’Tlechtlul said with a smile, like he was reading Orayszheld’s mind, “What you used for evil, the slann will for good.” “Yeah whatever.” Orayszheld replied, distracted by the beauty of the weapon. Clean like it was never used. “All the blood and damage has been wiped clean. You can start anew.”
     
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  14. Paradoxical Pacifism
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    Paradoxical Pacifism Well-Known Member

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    I really like where this is going. You've made me excited to see what Orayszheld will do, and the possible drama of him killing his former comrades.

    I really think you should separate lines of dialogue by spacing them apart. If you put together dialogue from two or more characters in a single paragraph, it can get very jarring for the reader. For an example:

    "I...Hate...You!" Orayszheld cried through gritted teeth. "One day I will kill you."

    "Now don't go psycho on me. We have a job to do. The pain will subside eventually." Crek’Tlechtlul replied.

    Orayszheld stood and growled, “Where do we have to go and what do we have to do. I should say I, not we, because you are so weak that if we come up against anything bigger than a Grot then I will have to do everything.”

    Now compare and contast:

    A new paragraph/line should designate that a different/new character is speaking.
     
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  15. TheCrazyKhorneGuy
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    TheCrazyKhorneGuy Member

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  16. Scalenex
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    Scalenex Keeper of the Indexes Staff Member

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    I agree, I lost track of who was saying what for that portion. I got some people commenting that my dialog has a lot of spacing but everyone knows when I switch characters.

    In a sense paragraph spacing in dialog is the day time running lights of literature. You don't need it, but it's safer.
     
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  17. DeathBringer125
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    DeathBringer125 Well-Known Member

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    For the record this story is about a D&D campaign I have been running. And yes lol I play Crek’Tlechtlul lol. (Seraphon for life). Lol I’m glad this story is getting typed up it’s going Great!
     
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