One shot stories Options

[Kell-Reevor]

Just a short piece I put together out of boredom. Hope you like it.

*************

It is dark. Two figures traverse a well trodden path out of Suran. The first is a swordsman. The second... his would-be killer.

The swordsman knows of his follower's presence. He listens attentively as the assassin follows. He is clearly untrained, and this may be his first mark. There is no rattle of quarrels or arrows. It is likely the swordsman need not fear a ranged attack.

The swordsman has made an enemy in the Nobles of Suran, and was aware that eventually they would seek his life. But he is not afraid. As a swordsman, death has followed him as a companion he has developed a deep respect for.

His trained ears pick up a sound... a soft and smooth "whif" as a dagger is pulled from a belt.

Spotting a shrine by the road, he approaches. He has no love of the Dunmer, nor has he a love for their Temple, but he is a spiritual man and pays his repects nonetheless as his killer moves in.

He moves his thumb for the guard of his sword. Years of oiling grant it silence as he nudges it from his sheath.

In a flash, he grips the weapon. Rips it from its home. Then thrusts it back, cutting into the assassin's belly. Turning, he frees the weapon with a horizontal slice, then brings the weapon up for a finishing downward cut.

The ordeal is over in a mere span of two seconds. The swordsman flips his sword to remove any blood, then returns it to it's home. He kneels in respect to the life he had just ended. If the nobleman had hired a killer even a tad more competant, the outcome would have been drastically different. If his foe had been equipped with a bow, or maybe armor, or perhaps knowledge of magick, HE would have been the one to die tonight.

He closes the dead man's eyes, mutters a short prayer... then is on his way.

This post has been edited by Kell-Reevor: Mar 2 2006, 02:01 PM

[jack cloudy]

Not sure about how good this one is, but it is something I wrote at school when I got bored. (Don't tell the teachers )
Funny thing is, it sounds like it is only part of a story, but I have no idea what that story would be.


Slowly, the ship drifted amongst the waves. The only sign of life were the torches burning on the bow and stern. Or was that all? No. At the bow one man stood, gazing at the sky. He was old, with long flowing hair as white as snow. He stood there like a statue, only moving on his heels to compensate for the boat’s movements.

A High Elf opened the door and looked over the deck. There was the man he’d been looking for. He took a quick glance at the sky and sighed. Then, he moved over to join the old man.

,,In a few nights, the moons will be full again.” He said. The Old man remained silent. Finally, after two long minutes, he spoke.
,,You know I don’t fear the servants of the moon.”
The High Elf touched an amulet hanging around his neck, lost in deep thought. The amulet was beautifully crafted and looked just like the moon.

,,I know, how could I forget? You’ve proven it before my eyes.”
,,Yes, I did. But that's not what we're here for. We should reach the island before the moon is full. It has been a long time. Perhaps you should join the hunt once more.” The old man said.

,,I will think about it. We are drinking a bottle of whine below deck. If you like you may join us.” With those words, the High Elf left.

The old man however, remained behind. He didn’t go downstairs and instead waited till he saw the land appear on the horizon. The land had called him and he realized he had much to do with only little time. He smiled at the thought. It had been a many years since he had last worried about not having enough time at his disposal.
,,So we’ll meet again, old friend.” He muttered and finally joined the people below deck.