|
|
|
The Forgotten Tales |
|
|
Hukai The Wandering |
May 19 2005, 02:15 AM
|
Knower
Joined: 11-April 05
From: From: From: From:
|
This is for the library and I'm just putting this here so I won't forget to post it. I will share each chapter as I go and so please, do not ask me about anything that I have not posted already. This includes what that book is about. Thank you, Hukai. EDIT: This is the first piece, the prelude or whatever you want to call it. It introduces the reader to the book's purpose, and ultimintly(sp?) their own. QUOTE The Forgotten Tales
(The book looks old and tattered. You notice that there are small spots of grass stains on the cover, and you can smell the scent of old herbs on every page.)
To Begin There are many stories in which life has created. Many of these hold truths that, even without all the lore, will call upon the generations to listen. This is a collaboration of those truths that, without such, we would have no history. Up until the recent wars, and back unto the old song, all tales hold true for a time. Read, and believe not that I have said so, but because you truly believe. And so, Our story begins.
This post has been edited by Hukai The Wandering: Sep 7 2005, 02:01 AM
--------------------
|
|
|
|
Hukai The Wandering |
May 19 2005, 09:34 PM
|
Knower
Joined: 11-April 05
From: From: From: From:
|
EDIT: This is the first story in the book. QUOTE A Heckler’s Call Once, within the city of Perigrad(sp?), there lived in earnest a teller by the name of S’varris. As told by his name, S’varris was a Khajiit. He had untold riches and spoke richly of that which was untold. Even during the times of war, he would be found sitting in a tavern or guildhall telling outlandish tales of his heroism. Within twelve days and twelve nights, he became famous for his tattle. Upon his thirteenth night, though, his fate changed. S’varris had keen in mind a story from his homeland. He perceived, as he walked highly into the crowd, that a cloaked face was among them. But he took no heed and proceeded to his seat. And so he began:
“This is the story of S’varris’s homeland. When S’varris once was a child.” The Khajiit kept his voice low, as to create a mystique about him. He continued. “When the first moon was blue and the other moon red, the Elders of S’varris came to him. Under the night sky, they hunted an animal with no name. The beast was higher than S’varris’s head now and times over in weight. As he was young, S’varris was told to hold the ceremonial torch. The elders of S’varris said that the torch would glow blue when the beast was near. They searched all night and found not a print. By this time, the elders of S’varris and S’varris were very tired.” As the KhajiIt talked in his low voice, the newcomer slowly drifted nearer to the rear of the dimly light room. “As the elders of S’varris slept, he could not sleep. S’varris felt the wind say that something was wrong. Even as he thought this, a small growling came from behind S’varris inside the thick bushes. S’varris turned to call the his elders but they did not move. The monster had already killed them.” S’varris now leaned in closer to those who sat closest to him, so that his deep eyes reflected the light of the lanterns. “This was bad for S’varris as he had no weapon or magic. Then the creature stepped out. The creature was large. It had green tusks, five legs, and looked like it was made out of ebony. The creature made a grab for S’varris but he was too quick. S’varris grabbed a log out of the fire and flung it at the beast. He seared his own hand at the same time.” S’varris pulled back the sleeve on his left arm to reveal smooth, black skin that had not hair nor patch of golden fur to be seen. “S’varris heard a terrible scream and the monster fell dead.”
At this, the stranger who had been listening strongly flinched as if hit. He sauntered slowly towards the group of listeners. “After the beast fell, S’varris ran for a day to find his way back to his village. Later that day, S’varris got a amulet for killing the monster and the elders of S’varris were put in honor-graves.” As S’varris ended there was a quiet awe in the crowd. Before even S’varris himself could react, the stranger who was in-fact an Orc threw back his cloak and shot a silver arrow straight into S’varris’s heart. The loved Khajiit feel dead. Before anyone could rush to apprehend him, the Orc bellowed in a heart-rending sob. “He is dead! That honoured user who killed my wife is dead!” The Orc then pulled a poison dagger and slit his own throat and with his finally words passed away. “My sweat darling, I shall be with you soon.”
As not a soul in the crowd knew, or does know to this day, S’varris himself was accepted into the Morg Tong(sp?) at a young age. His first mission was the kill an Orc that owed them money. The Orc had caught wind that day and fled with her husband. After searching the city for her, S’varris and a few other guild members decided to stay in a tavern in the town. As fate conceived, the Orcs had put up to remain in that very place for a fortnight. When their quarry noticed them in the dinner area, she tried to run past to her room, but S’varris caught her. The Orc had on ebony armor and wielded a mace. She bashed the other Morg Tong(sp?) guild members to death but fell herself when S’varris threw Mazte(sp?) and a lit torch on her. And so, he returned to his guild the next day to receive a badge of honor and have his comrades buried. If only the Khajiit had known that the husband had caught a final glimpse of him running out of the door and his wife dead, he could have gotten a writ to kill him too. But in the end, the Khajiit made his only fatal mistake. The Orc merely felt to rest and would have never recognized the aged assassin if not for his scared arm and his own heroic tale. This post has been edited by Hukai The Wandering: Sep 7 2005, 02:01 AM
--------------------
|
|
|
|
jonajosa |
Jul 3 2005, 05:33 AM
|
Unregistered
|
Why was it deleted? Surely you know the rules about having inappropriate "information" in your work.
|
|
|
|
stargate525 |
Sep 7 2005, 02:56 AM
|
Finder
Joined: 10-April 05
From: wisconsin; land of cheese, beer, and bratwurst!
|
QUOTE(Hukai The Wandering @ Sep 6 2005, 09:59 PM) I'm about to start back up and finish the second story and just wanted to say one thing before I posted...I used to love this site and the people in it. They we're like my online family and each one of us has somehting to contribute. I understand that the admin wants to keep order and relavance in the site and I knowingly submit my thoughts and feeling with the full knowledge that most of it will be covered up and deleted. I'm still gonna try and stay as part of this comunity that has worked so hard together to create something truly unique but I will always miss the days when we would joke around and be human while working. We even had fun with the moderators (whom I now have reason to fear) and all was good. I know that the chances of anyone seeing this before it is erased are minute but I still want to say...I miss you all. hey, we had no problems like that on the official forums, I think the admin was afraid to come in the thread... we could always carry on over there.
--------------------
these forums taste almost, but not quite, completely unlike tea.
|
|
|
|
Rane |
Sep 7 2005, 04:14 PM
|
Lurker
Joined: 17-April 05
From: The Land of Confusion
|
QUOTE(Hukai The Wandering @ Sep 7 2005, 03:59 AM) I'm about to start back up and finish the second story and just wanted to say one thing before I posted...I used to love this site and the people in it. They we're like my online family and each one of us has somehting to contribute. I understand that the admin wants to keep order and relavance in the site and I knowingly submit my thoughts and feeling with the full knowledge that most of it will be covered up and deleted. I'm still gonna try and stay as part of this comunity that has worked so hard together to create something truly unique but I will always miss the days when we would joke around and be human while working. We even had fun with the moderators (whom I now have reason to fear) and all was good. I know that the chances of anyone seeing this before it is erased are minute but I still want to say...I miss you all. Why would it be deleted? Seriously, I honestly can't see how this place has changed much since you were last active in here. If this is about posts that might be missing in certain threads, like this one for exampe, it is very possible that they are gone because of the forum-change we went through some time ago. Some posts were lost then because there were some problems with the server and the site kept going down every now and then. I can see no other reason for why any posts would have been deleted in this thread. As long as the posts' content were not in any way inappropriate.
|
|
|
|
stargate525 |
Sep 10 2005, 01:18 AM
|
Finder
Joined: 10-April 05
From: wisconsin; land of cheese, beer, and bratwurst!
|
QUOTE(Hukai The Wandering @ Sep 9 2005, 09:15 PM) I know, sorry about the other day too. I guess I just had some steam that needed working off...It's not really as bad as I made it seem asn i don't even think that I had any bad feeling towards the site or the admin when I posted that...Mabye it was just pent up frustation that I forgot about and exploded when I came back... I don't know. Again, sorry if I was being an boat. I'll be good, for a while. ironic if they then delete all this won't it?
--------------------
these forums taste almost, but not quite, completely unlike tea.
|
|
|
|
Hukai The Wandering |
Oct 22 2005, 02:00 AM
|
Knower
Joined: 11-April 05
From: From: From: From:
|
Yes it'll will be...BTW: How can I get them to delete all that? It's cluttering up the sotry area... I would not like that there to disauade peopel from reading my half-baked stories...hmm...half-baked cookies..... Uh...anyway, here is my second story...it's feel a little rushed but...whatever... EDIT: I decided to put all of the book in (it's been revised some) for rereading...uh, yeah...here it is QUOTE The Forgotten Tales
(The book looks old and tattered. You notice that there are small grass stains on the cover, and you can smell the scent of ancient herbs on every page.)
To Begin There are many stories in which life has created. Many of these hold truths that, even without all the lore, will call upon the generations to listen. This is a collaboration of those truths that, without such, we would have no history. Up until the recent wars, and back unto the old song, all tales hold true for a time. Read, and believe not that I have said so, but because you truly believe. And so, Our story begins.
A Heckler’s Call Once, within the city of Perigrad(sp?), there lived in earnest a teller by the name of S’varris. As told by his name, S’varris was a Khajiit. He had untold riches and spoke richly of that which was untold. Even during the times of war, he would be found sitting in a tavern or guildhall telling outlandish tales of his heroism. Within twelve days and twelve nights, he became famous for his tattle. Upon his thirteenth night, though, his fate changed. S’varris had keen in mind a story from his homeland. He perceived, as he walked highly into the crowd, that a cloaked face was among them. But he took no heed and proceeded to his seat. And so he began:
“This is the story of S’varris’s homeland. When S’varris once was a child.” The Khajiit kept his voice low, as to create a mystique about him. He continued. “When the first moon was blue and the other moon red, the Elders of S’varris came to him. Under the night sky, they hunted an animal with no name. The beast was higher than S’varris’s head now and times over in weight. As he was young, S’varris was told to hold the ceremonial torch. The elders of S’varris said that the torch would glow blue when the beast was near. They searched all night and found not a print. By this time, the elders of S’varris and S’varris were very tired.” As the KhajiIt talked in his low voice, the newcomer slowly drifted nearer to the rear of the dimly light room. “As the elders of S’varris slept, he could not sleep. S’varris felt the wind say that something was wrong. Even as he thought this, a small growling came from behind S’varris inside the thick bushes. S’varris turned to call his elders but they did not move. The monster had already killed them.” S’varris now leaned in closer to those who sat closest to him, so that his deep eyes reflected the light of the lanterns. “This was bad for S’varris as he had no weapon or magic. Then the creature stepped out. The creature was large. It had green tusks, five legs, and looked like it was made out of ebony. The creature made a grab for S’varris but he was too quick. S’varris grabbed a log out of the fire and flung it at the beast. He seared his own hand at the same time.” S’varris pulled back the sleeve on his left arm to reveal smooth, black skin that had not hair nor patch of golden fur to be seen. “S’varris heard a terrible scream and the monster fell dead.”
At this, the stranger who had been listening strongly flinched as if hit. He sauntered slowly towards the group of listeners. “After the beast fell, S’varris ran for a day to find his way back to his village. Later that day, S’varris got a amulet for killing the monster and the elders of S’varris were put in honor-graves.” As S’varris ended there was a quiet awe in the crowd. Before even S’varris himself could react, the stranger who was in-fact an Orc threw back his cloak and shot a silver arrow straight into S’varris’s heart. The loved Khajiit feel dead. Before anyone could rush to apprehend him, the Orc bellowed in a heart-rending sob. “He is dead! That honoured user who killed my wife is dead!” The Orc then pulled a poison dagger and slit his own throat and with his final words passed away. “My sweat darling, I shall be with you soon.”
As not a soul in the crowd knew, or does know to this day, that S’varris himself was accepted into the Morg Tong(sp?) at a young age. His first mission was the kill an Orc that owed the guild money. The Orc had caught wind that day and fled with her husband. After searching the city for her, S’varris and a few other guild members decided to stay in a tavern in the town. As fate conceived, the Orcs had put up to remain in that very place for a fortnight. When their quarry noticed them in the dinner area, she tried to run past to her room, but S’varris caught her. The Orc had on ebony armor and wielded a mace. She bashed the other Morg Tong(sp?) guild members to death but fell herself when S’varris threw Mazte(sp?) onto her and a lit her with a torch. And so, he returned to the guild that next day to receive a badge of honor and to have his fallen comrades buried. If only the Khajiit had known that the husband had caught a final glimpse of him running out of the door and his wife dead, he could have gotten a writ to kill him too. But in the end, the Khajiit made his only fatal mistake. The Orc merely felt to rest and would have never recognized the aged assassin if not for scarred arm and his own heroic tale.
Mother’s Stew Once, in the small town of Sedya Neen, a woman lived with her two children. The times then were not good for raising children. It seemed like everywhere you turned, someone was dead. Stories traveled fast of a murderer that seemed to be located in the quiet town. All of the region was frightened. Times then were also poor. With the exception of the Census and Excise building, everyone was in debt. Even the once-wealthy trade house was having problems. Every night the woman worked hard to make a decent meal for her children and every night they had herb stew. After dinner, the woman would send her children to bed and stay up to read. Once or twice, if the children were awake, they could hear their mother leave the house in the middle of the night, but they never gave it much thought. Each morning when they woke up, their mother would already be up, starting their dinner for that night. After a meager breakfast of local mushrooms, the children were sent off to collect any ingredients they could find and bring them back for supper. The children spent, on average, a full two hours before they returned with armfuls of plants and spices, half of which were inedible. Their mother would always then leave to accomplish an errand while the children helped prepare the stew. The children would not see their mother for at least an hour but she always brought back armfuls of freshly picked herbs.
Now, one night, the children awoke at the sound of a sharp pounding on the door. They could hear their mother as she stood from her reading chair to answer the quivering door. Whispering soon followed. Before they knew what had happened, the children’s mother had left the warm little hut for the cold unknown that nighttime often held. Without word or gesture, the children drew themselves to their tiny window in together. Darkness outlined a fading figure by the small swamp centered in the town’s less fortunate housing area. Then, nothing, the figure had disappeared.
Hours passed. As the children awaited their mother’s return, lying snugly in their small bed, whispers of excitement floated into the still, dark air. Little time remained before the sun’s rise when the children’s mother returned home. Kissing her little ones on the forehead, she promptly tucked herself into her own resting place. When she awoke, her children had already started boiling water for stew. With an appreciative grin, she lifted herself onto her elbow to watch her little ones’ work. The pair, unaware of their mother’s presence, calmly sorted herbs and mushrooms, shifting poisonous, foul, or otherwise inedible potions to the left and healthy, wholesome pieces to the right. When they ha finished, they tossed the right pile into the fire and the left one into the pot. Starting, their mother moved to speak but stopped when she noticed something wicked. Slowly, she realized that the unknowing children's faces, her babies’ very faces, she could not remember. Recognizing the situation surely must be a dream; she quietly laid down again to awake herself into reality.
Eyes opened and yet the mother still saw the same dishonest scene. Panicking, she glanced around for a reminder of the alien pair cooking in her kitchen. As frantically as she glanced, as deep she peered, she could still find no sign of the two’s existence. No toy, no shirt, nothing that could ever indicate that to children had every lived their. Then, slowly, as the woman laid on her small bed is distress, a flash lit her mind. She saw several shadows, two standing over the third. Something in her twisted into a gnarled knot as she remembered. Pondering a stealthy rebellion, she turned quietly towards the child who now stood, glaring at her from he bedside. But her children didn’t stand for long; slowly, they melted into large figures cloaked in shadows before their horrified audience. With striking agility, it reached a small vial towards the woman’s mouth and a drop of silvery liquid slid into her throat. As she feel asleep, the mother could recognize her children’s beaming faces.
The child left their mother to rest all that morning as they left to collect more ingredients. “Let’s take the tradesman today brother.”
“No, we need his goods and materials. Let’s go take the Nord woman next door, she’ll make a fine stew.”
This post has been edited by Hukai The Wandering: Oct 22 2005, 02:03 AM
--------------------
|
|
|
|
|
|
1 User(s) are reading this topic (1 Guests and 0 Anonymous Users)
0 Members:
|
|