Principality of Zion
23-01-2006, 10:11
Bombs fell with a lethal crump, their explosions rocking the earth to the liking of Satan walking. The city was burning. The invaders charged through the streets, slaughtering women and children if they found those foolish enough to stay in their homes. Fires were starting all over, the smoke rising as a promise of the ashes to come.
Lord Zaabin stood in his full regal ceremonial robes. He stood watching from the Palace terrace his fallen city. His men were still fighting throughout the city. The flashes of gunfire, clash of swords, and screams of the dying echoing out beyond the high valley where the city had sat once hidden.
A man dressed in a flowing red-black leather cloak stepped forward beside Zaabin.
"My lord, General Keith has asked that you leave the city. The majority of our citizens and a small portion of the House Guard are with them. They're waiting at the Cave for the passage through the mountains. The devils won't find it."
Zaabin turned, facing the man who he had always trusted. He was a young man, barely 25. But he was the most deadly swordsman and pistol shot in his kingdom.
"Fearor (http://forgottenmem.thequietworld.com/albums/userpics/10001/thumb_ff10-auron.jpg), I am not sure if I should be allowed to leave...yes...I think I will stay here and face them when they reach the palace," said Zaabin.
Fearor stepped up in front of Zaabin. "Forgive me Lord." He slapped Zaabin, hard, across the cheek. Zaabin staggerd back, his eyes wide in surprise more than in pain.
He looked at Fearor. "What-"
"You are not yourself. You know the survival of our Kingdom depends on you leaving. Now go." Fearor snaped his fingers and two House Guard soldiers stepped up and helped Zaabin walk away. A carraige waited, and Zaabin stepped into it, but looked back at Fearor once more before closing the door.
Fearor turned back to the city. He stood on the Great Steps. 300 stone steps down was the main city street. Below him a mass of enemy soldiers were marching forward.
About 20 or so House Guard troops stepped up next to Fearor. He turned to them. "You need not stay. Go, save yourselves."
One of them turned. "Beg your pardon sir, but stick it up your ass. We're with you to the end. Seireth take our souls into his keeping." The others nodded. Some even cracked crooked smiles.
Fearor felt proud of the men he had trained. He turned and watched as the large mass of soldiers had reached the bottom of the stairs. They were brandishing their swords and rifles. A few shots rang out, kicking up pieces of the rock from the steps. They started up the steps.
With a slow and steady movement Fearor drew his great sword. It was more than 4 feet long, curved, and made from the metal of a fallen star. Many of Zion's enemies feared and new this sword. The approaching soldiers faultered when they saw it being drawn.
The House Guard soldiers laughed. They drew their swords and what fiew pistols they had. The enemy soldiers began coming again, hatred forming masks on their faces.
Fearor raised his sword. "Seig Zion!"
"Sieg Zion!" yelled the House Guard.
Fearor and his small band smashed into the enemy, screaming their battle cries of Zion.
Lord Zaabin stood in his full regal ceremonial robes. He stood watching from the Palace terrace his fallen city. His men were still fighting throughout the city. The flashes of gunfire, clash of swords, and screams of the dying echoing out beyond the high valley where the city had sat once hidden.
A man dressed in a flowing red-black leather cloak stepped forward beside Zaabin.
"My lord, General Keith has asked that you leave the city. The majority of our citizens and a small portion of the House Guard are with them. They're waiting at the Cave for the passage through the mountains. The devils won't find it."
Zaabin turned, facing the man who he had always trusted. He was a young man, barely 25. But he was the most deadly swordsman and pistol shot in his kingdom.
"Fearor (http://forgottenmem.thequietworld.com/albums/userpics/10001/thumb_ff10-auron.jpg), I am not sure if I should be allowed to leave...yes...I think I will stay here and face them when they reach the palace," said Zaabin.
Fearor stepped up in front of Zaabin. "Forgive me Lord." He slapped Zaabin, hard, across the cheek. Zaabin staggerd back, his eyes wide in surprise more than in pain.
He looked at Fearor. "What-"
"You are not yourself. You know the survival of our Kingdom depends on you leaving. Now go." Fearor snaped his fingers and two House Guard soldiers stepped up and helped Zaabin walk away. A carraige waited, and Zaabin stepped into it, but looked back at Fearor once more before closing the door.
Fearor turned back to the city. He stood on the Great Steps. 300 stone steps down was the main city street. Below him a mass of enemy soldiers were marching forward.
About 20 or so House Guard troops stepped up next to Fearor. He turned to them. "You need not stay. Go, save yourselves."
One of them turned. "Beg your pardon sir, but stick it up your ass. We're with you to the end. Seireth take our souls into his keeping." The others nodded. Some even cracked crooked smiles.
Fearor felt proud of the men he had trained. He turned and watched as the large mass of soldiers had reached the bottom of the stairs. They were brandishing their swords and rifles. A few shots rang out, kicking up pieces of the rock from the steps. They started up the steps.
With a slow and steady movement Fearor drew his great sword. It was more than 4 feet long, curved, and made from the metal of a fallen star. Many of Zion's enemies feared and new this sword. The approaching soldiers faultered when they saw it being drawn.
The House Guard soldiers laughed. They drew their swords and what fiew pistols they had. The enemy soldiers began coming again, hatred forming masks on their faces.
Fearor raised his sword. "Seig Zion!"
"Sieg Zion!" yelled the House Guard.
Fearor and his small band smashed into the enemy, screaming their battle cries of Zion.