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Fiction Lizardmen: Evolution

Discussion in 'Fluff and Stories' started by thedarkfourth, Feb 13, 2016.

  1. thedarkfourth
    Kroxigor

    thedarkfourth Well-Known Member

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    Finding out that Daughter of Bob (13) is a reader has reawakened my not-very-dormant desire to write for that age group. There is in fact a Sister of Thedarkfourth (also 13 - I'm late 20s), who I hope also to lure into my evil fanfic ways. I'm telling myself this will be an ongoing story. Let's see if I can stick to that.

    Chapter 1

    Winifred said goodnight to her parents and hurried to her room. She had to be alone. Like every night, she cursed the fact that she lived on the the very top floor of the castle. The tiny, freezing stairway spiralled its stony way for what seemed like hours. Finally she reached the top, panting as usual, and tripped suddenly as she attempted to take the last step. For one horrifying moment, her foot slid directly into the floor as if it were made of water.

    An instant later she was cursing again as she pulled herself upright from her undignified face-plant. She smoothed down her dress and attempted to repress the growing bile in her abdomen. At least no one had been there to see...whatever that was. She staggered the rest of her way into the room, a cold sweat breaking out. She went to her mirror to see if the tumble had left a bruise. It was too dark to see, so she paced to the bedside to retrieve the candelabra. Her hand passed straight through the brass handle like she was a ghost. Her eyes widened. She got hold of the candle on the second try, but now she was shaking too violently; she felt faint. She sat heavily on her bed, suddenly overwhelmed with exhaustion. Everything would be better in the morning.

    There was no respite in her dreams. Winifred saw a nauseating green moon. She saw oozing ratmen working a gigantic contraption under the ground. She saw an icy wasteland, stretching to the corners of the earth, and at its centre...something vile she could not bear to contemplate. She was in a tower, even taller than her own castle. Much taller - it yawned above a stupendous cliff. And the wind was rising. Something was on the wind, some awful scent or presence, buffeting the tower with a menacing purpose. The structure groaned and swayed. Winifred couldn't stand it; she gripped the crenellations with hands the same shade of black. With one final terrible crack, the tower toppled from its base and - just as on the steps - Winifred was falling. Falling through a hail of crumbling masonry. Falling through chilling winds, over endless landscapes, past the sheer cliff, a never-ending fall of panic and adrenaline, into an abyss like the night sky, a single timeless shriek of fear-

    She woke up with a thud and looked around - a fruitless task because the room was pitch black. The panic subsided but certainly did not disappear. Unlike her bed. She was lying on cold stones, with the quilts and linens of her comfy four-poster still swaddling her like a nest. She stood and felt her way towards the door. Beyond lay the landing, and the staircase-

    The stairs led upwards. They used to go down. Fear began to pulse once more. She began to climb the impossible staircase, only now noticing a strange smell of ...potatoes? And beer? She reached the top and found she was in the great kitchens, the embers of the massive fireplace eeking just enough light to let her get her bearings. Of course...she had been in the cellars. Perhaps she had sleepwalked all the way down. It didn't feel likely.

    Once again she felt her way up the stairs from the kitchen to the great hall. Everything was deathly silent. The dinner had been cleared away - the room looked utterly abandoned. But there were windows - at least now she could see by the light of the moon. She paced with silent bare feet over the rough wooden boards towards the door, starting at a sudden sound from the other side. Thank the gods - someone else was awake.

    She opened the door and stopped short, her brain simply unable to believe what it was seeing. She tried to take a step backwards and tripped again, continuing to stare up at the apparitions in the hallway from her new position on the floor.

    There was a monster about twice as tall as a man and as wide as a horse. It was so fat as to be almost spherical, a muscly ball coated in reptilian scales. At the top was a box-shaped head that opened like a hinge to reveal a procession of enormous, gleaming canines. The other...thing was barely noticeable in comparison, but once you had seen it, it held a horror all of its own. Winifred recognised its species - a chameleon. But the chameleons she'd learned about could fit in your hand, not stand 4 feet tall on two legs and stare at you with an insane grin.

    Both creatures snapped their heads around to look her.

    Incapable of thinking, Winifred impulsively stumbled to her feet and retreated in the opposite direction of the staring horrors. Behind her, she heard the door smash to pieces as the larger reptile forced its way through.

    "Come with us, little girl!" it bellowed in a voice like tar, while its comrade sniggered. "We've come to pick you up, hur hur hur."

    She turned back to face them, her feet still carrying her backwards. Her brain still felt frozen in place. Something thin and crimson streaked from the mouth of the chameleon and wrapped itself in a slimy coil around her wrist. She tugged as hard as she could, but her arm was held fast. The beasts continued towards her. She pulled more frantically, desperation seizing her mind.

    She staggered away as her arm passed inexplicably through the hideous wet tongue - only to find that she was now backed up against the exterior wall of the great hall. The huge one kept plodding. The little chameleon looked shocked for a moment as its tongue slapped its way back into its mouth, but soon recovered with a terrific leap up onto the wall directly above her, grinning down again like a mad thing.

    The huge fat one stretched out its hand to take her. She shielded her face with her arm, pressing herself up against the wall...and through it. The two lizards looked at each other in confusion as their quarry vanished.

    Winifred collapsed into the dirt outside. She was alone in the chilly night air, wearing nothing but a nightdress. All she knew was that she had to get away. She turned and ran from the castle, tears whipping her cheeks. Out into the fields, down stony lanes that stung her feet. Now she was in the trees, and the pale moonlight was fading. For the umpteenth time that night, she tripped - this time on a root. Smeared in forest dirt, she pushed her face from the ground.

    Her heart stopped at the sight of a new lizard, its arms crossed imperiously over a broad chest, its feet hovering a few inches from the ground, its body wreathed in shadow.

    "Greetings, child," it said through a heavy helmet that hid everything but a tiny glint from the depths of its eye sockets. Then it lowered itself to the ground and stretched out a clawed hand towards her, continuing: "It is an honour to meet a mortal with such powers as yours."
     
  2. Bowser
    Slann

    Bowser Third Spawning

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    An interesting concept so far! Isn't this the xmen recruiting process?;) Seriously though keep going with this! Great so far!
     
    Last edited: Feb 13, 2016
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  3. spawning of Bob
    Skar-Veteran

    spawning of Bob Well-Known Member

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    Well, my 13 year old won't like it. There haven't been any beheadings yet.
     
  4. thedarkfourth
    Kroxigor

    thedarkfourth Well-Known Member

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    You may be onto something here. You may even have hit upon the crux, the very nub, as it were, of the endeavour.


    Chapter 2


    The Duke of Lesser Nimsby had never been to war, as far as Winifred knew.

    And yet he seemed to posses enough weaponry to equip a sizeable army. Obviously, he did actually have a sizeable army, but they had already been equipped and tended to spend all of their time farming anyway. There were enough deadly objects on a farm as it was, in Winifred's opinion. The point was: the Duke had a weird number of personal weapons, for a man who never used them. They carpeted the wall of the castle's drawing room.

    "My scimitars are getting rusty again," he exclaimed suddenly, as if this were a perfectly natural way to start a conversation. Silence swiftly followed as Winifred turned her head towards him from her window seat, without actually peeling her eyes away from her book.

    "Perhaps you'd like to give me a hand polishing them?" continued the Duke.

    Winifred finished the paragraph. "Of course, papa." She knew her father always demanded help by phrasing it as a favour to the helper. She found it charming.

    She retrieved the curving blades by standing on the armrest of the vast felt chair that presided in the centre of the southern wall, and carried them gingerly to the bureau where her father was seated. Then she fetched the wax polish and, seated opposite each other, the two of them went to work.

    Winifred no longer felt the silences as awkward or tense days, but she nevertheless flicked her gaze towards the Duke as they scrubbed the ageing weapons. She noticed something else on the desk. Something scarlet and livid.

    "That's Count di Morta's seal," she said quietly, trying to keep any emotion from her voice. "What does he want?"

    "Oh," said the Duke, feebly trying to shuffle his papers to cover up the telltale wax. "It's, ah, it's nothing. Just some nonsense about, ah...serfs and such." He grinned weakly under his absurd moustache.

    "Papa..." said Winifred, warningly.

    "Well it's certainly nothing to worry a girl of 15, that's for sure," mumbled the Duke, attempting a chuckle. "Nothing at all."

    Winifred scraped back her chair and soared to her feet.

    "Nothing?! You think I've forgotten what they did to us?! You think I've forgotten that ...that creature's madness?!"

    "Darling, perhaps a little caution with the-"


    "Stop patronising me! I'm not just this little, mindless thing! I know what's going on, I know you're hiding something!"

    "I'm sorry my love, but please, the sword-"

    "Don't tell me- ah!" she choked as the weapon with which she'd been subconsciously gesticulating leapt straight out of her hand and passed directly through her torso before impaling itself with a comic, shivering thud in the floorboards behind.

    The two generations of the Lesser Nimsby family turned white and froze.

    That was then.

    This is now.

    The monsters were back. The huge fat one and the mad little chameleon. Since she appeared to be waking up again, she experienced a single euphoric instant in which the two creatures felt like the last foggy blinks of an awful dream. But a moment later, they couldn't have been more real. They were grinning at her like she was a humorously shaped root vegetable.


    She bolted upright and looked around. The room appeared to be made of clinical, polished steel. The only thing she couldn't see was the source of the voice that spoke next.

    "Now is not the time for fear, my dear Lady Winifred."


    Behind her, the floating lizard from the woods was seated at a desk made of the same smooth metal, examining a row of stone tablets placed on top. He looked up and spoke again.

    "Rather, now is the time to embrace your destiny. The time to discover who you truly are."

    Winifred peered at the lizard. Something about its voice, calm and convincing though it was, tapped a deep wellspring of dread. The large, menacing helmet that shrouded its face didn't help much either, nor did the red and purple scales that hinted at power.

    "Where am I?" she asked, managing to keep her voice from trembling.

    "This is the home of our little Brotherhood. And I hope it will be a home for you, too."

    "What are you ...people?"

    The lizard stood. "We are many things, Lady Winifred, but first and foremost, we are exiles. Driven from our homeland for being different. We know what its like to have powers that set us apart, and to be hated for it."

    He paused, profoundly.

    "But how rude," he exclaimed, snapping out of it. "I have failed to make the proper introductions. These fine lizardmen are Mort'i and Fri-Drik, though they prefer to be known as Chameleon and Blot. I believe you are already acquainted with what they can do. My name is Urk-Lensha. I would be honoured if you would use the title I assumed on joining the Brotherhood: Magenta. My powers are somewhat more ...showy."

    The silvery platform on which she was sitting began to warp and melt around her. She stifled a scream and tried jump away, but it was all moving too fast. Suddenly she found it was no longer a platform but a throne, with two large arm rests perfectly positioned for her white knuckles to grip as the adrenaline slowly subsided.

    "What are you?" she stuttered.

    "We were spawned with special gifts. Some called us aberrations, others omens. Whatever the true reason for our existence, we-"

    "Let me go."

    "I beg your pardon?"

    "I want to leave. Take me back to my home."

    Magenta hesitated. "I understand. Of course this experience is disorienting for you. But I beg you to let us show you why we have taken you here, before you decide whether to stay. It is a matter of much greater import than you realise."

    She stared at it.

    "It won't take a moment. Watch. Wink!"

    Was it asking her to...? No. A smaller, suppler lizard with violently pink scales padded rapidly into the room and cocked its head.

    "Thank you Wink. Just here is fine." Winifred couldn't help but notice a note of fatherly gentleness in Magenta's voice. She looked back to the smaller creature, who shook its rose-coloured crest. There was something pink and crystalline in its claws. It drew back its arm, hurled the object towards the wall and-

    Winifred screamed and covered her mouth. Floating in the middle of the room, where the crystal had suddenly shattered, a fuzzy pink haze now outlined a large circular window. Warm steam began to billow through it, fogging the the cold steel of the room. And on the other side...

    "This is our home," said the old reptile, gravely. "Would you like to see more?"
     
  5. Bowser
    Slann

    Bowser Third Spawning

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    Haha! Brilliant! Quite a fun idea!
    That had me laughing right from the start!
     
  6. spawning of Bob
    Skar-Veteran

    spawning of Bob Well-Known Member

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    Some of this seems strangely familiar. The rest? No idea.

    I'm guessing that means "mission accomplished"
     
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