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About Me
First off, I rock. Just saying. Now on to the stuff you might not know about me.

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I write Stories...Here are the beginnings of two of them:

**DISCLAIMER* These are rough drafts and thus may be completely different from the actual stories.

THE CORRUPTION

(all speaking/thoughts is translated from russian, or the equivalent, in Frostheim)

Morkai Kavatorok couldn't believe what had just happened. He knelt beside a pool of water and blood, tinting the water red. Blood oozed from the wound on his tough face as he pressed his thumb against it, feeling little discomfort. Already the wound was sealing up tightening his skin and creating a scar the width of his thumb,going down his left brow to right cheek. He replayed the previous moments in his head. His eyes glaze over, remembering. Always before battle, he felt a strange eeriness pass over him, as if he was being watched. He glanced around him, but saw nothing. He led his garrison of troops through the forest, towards the keep, readying to relieve the troops stationed there. He ruffled his hand back through his hair, sighing softly. As they entered a clearing and approached the tower, he felt that something was out of place. He perked up in his horse's saddle.



'Why aren't there any scouts coming out to escort us?' ,He pondered for a moment before noticing something else, 'And what's that smell, it smells like blood and sweat have been shed.' He was known for his heightened senses, mainly his eyesight, hearing, and sense of smell. He voiced his thoughts to his bondsman-captain.



The second-in-command thought for a moment and replied, "You're the one with heightened senses, Lord. I'll follow your judgement."



"This is strange, Be on the Lo--", The trees on both sides of his troope roared with battlecries. Men poured out of the trees, their forms taking on a strange and parodical manner, seeming to melt and distend as they approached. The force merged with his and the slaughter began. "TO ARMS MEN!! FOR BLOOD AND GLORY!! LET THIS BE REMEMBERED IN AN EPIC SAGA!!", He cried. He saw that his men recovered from the shock extremely quick, for which he was proud of the training he put his men through. He squeezed on his horse's flanks and had it gallop to the thickest part of the battlefield, the bondsman-captain in tow. He drew his spear and kicked off his horse into the nearest fighter. He landed on the thing and stabbed his spear into his foe's neck. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the captain cast his own spear into the throat of another, dropping the thing instantly.

"Behind you!", The captain bellowed, as he dropped another foe with his sword. Morkai tumbled to his right and saw a sword connect with the dead body, hitting and slicing at the base of his spearhead. He lashed out with his sword and cut into it's leg. The thing bellowed and pivoted, bearing down on him. The captain caught the thing at the base of the neck with his sword first. The dead enemy dropped onto Morkai. He shrugged it off, and rose once more. The battle raged on. As Morkai finished his opponent, a beast that loomed over the others approached him, a daemonic smile on it's lips. The creature giggled and cracked it's knuckles. It reached over it's shoulder and pulled out a massive broadsword. It was large enough that it wielded the broadsword single-handedly, and, still, the broadsword looked more like a shortsword in it's clawed hand.

"YOUR WYRD IS UPON YOU, DAEMON!" Morkai charged the beast, dodging blades as he closed in with the beast.


BLOOD FOR THE FEAST

Screams and laughter come from inside the run-down hut, in the outskirts of the village. The wooden door shatters as a pale winged beast bursts through the door. The cord of a lengthy whip is wrapped tightly around it's ankle. A man dressed in a worn black trenchcoat, covered in soot and wood shavings from the busted door, flys out from the opening, holding onto the other end of the bullwhip. His matching hat is in a deathgrip between his set of teeth, to prevent it from falling, as he is carried of into the crisp, night air.

"Fisk, you cursed *******, you get to have all the fun!" A voice proclaimed, embodied by a man of slightly above average height, a salt-and-peppered goatee, and dressed in a similar trenchcoat and hat, emerging from the shadows of the house's interior. He stepped up to the remains of the rotted railings and hiked up a foot; a steam-punkish gun, lined with golden shavings, in his slightly-raised hand. " I want a turn this time, last time, you cheated!"

Fisk wrapped his gloved hands around the whip itself, and climbed up the corded rope, ignoring his friend's jibe to Fisk's twisted sense of honour. He grabbed onto the vampire, and slashed at it's wings with a faintly glowing dagger. The thin membrane of skin gave little resistance to the blade. As Fisk switched to the beast's neck, plunging the blade hilt-deep, he nearly lost his grip. He guided the gliding body into the railing his partner was leaning on. He vaulted himself off the the corpse and into the other man, knocking the both of them away from the railing and carcass heap.

Fisk landed on top of him, standing on him much like a surfboard, staring down at him with a dark look on his face, and replied, " I swear to God, Zachariah, I didn't cheat, the bloody giant snapped his own neck." He removed his hat from his mouth and set it on his head. Fisk stepped off him and offered him a hand up, grinning, "I tried, but his neck muscles were too strong."

Zachariah grabbed the hand, and then squeezed it, rising to his feet. He remembered that day, they had been tasked to kill an giant that had been eating a villager's sheep, and when they caught up to it, they had some fun. Zachariah wanted to ride the brute like a bull, seeing how long they could remain on it. But Fisk already had that idea and was already running at it's front side and then kicking off it's reaching arm, swung around the savage's neck. The thing, dumb as it was, turned it's head quickly looking for him.

The inertia from the weight of Fisk and it's head, together, was enough to snap the creature's neck. The limbs of it were too dumb to notice that it should be dead, and kept on moving, until the body walked into a tree and fell onto it. Zachariah laughed when he saw Fisk hanging onto a neighbouring tree, holding onto the highest branch.

"At least you have a head for heights." Zachariah smirked

"I should've landed on you." Fisk walked through the debris, and bent over to retrieve his whip. He glanced over his shoulder back to Zachariah, " You coming, or do I need to spend all the earnings myself?"


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