Game What are you doing right now?

Well, I'm doing..

Chapter 5


The Sword of the Guard


The sword of the guard was said to have been stolen from the laps of the gods.
Stolen it had to be for it was ensorcelled thus by those its wielders would protect from harm.
A sword, cast from a shard of the moon, fired in the ovens of hell, a sword from a guard to the hall of heroes.
It was also said that mortal man was but a vassal of the sword for the sword sought its own destiny.
Be it also known, no living mortal has fallen whilst wielding this sword in battle.
Few who ever posses the sword bespeak too loudly of their miraculous windfall as minions will doubt and steel will clash.
Those who face this sword can not say as their voices echo not in this mortal plain. A legend ever grows e're the telling - or so they say.


A portal supporting huge polished timber doors, burnished with strips of gleaming metal and bearing ornate heraldry emblems stood majestically before Melinda's gaze. The sentries, normally positioned outside were not visible and then she heard the scream. It was the cry of someone mortally struck and she knew the sound well. She slowed her run, leant strongly into the doors and was surprised when they began to swing inwards.

"Melinda," Eric called from behind but she simply beckoned him forward and vanished from his sight into the room. "Wizard calling Tiger Team, urgent: There’s trouble at the Imperial chambers. Get here now.”

One all-encompassing look sent shivers up Melinda’s spine and all appeared madness within the room. Guards lay about still or writhing in agony and screaming. Several groups were engaged in swordplay and she gasped when she saw the prostrate form of Emperor Daius Harkaralon lying in a pool of blood.

"Daius," she screamed. "Nooooo!" Primal elemental fires, dark, menacing and ethereal sprang into sparkling life in Melinda's topaz-blue eyes. A look of intense anger washed across her face and tomorrow, she would remember nothing of the next few minutes.

A small dark shape leapt at her and then another did as well from positions alongside the door. With barely a glance, her blade hummed and her shimmering flash of steel splattered blood five metres up the wall.

"The Goddess," someone screamed.

"The Emperor is dead," another bemoaned loudly.

Deadly resolve washed across Melinda's face but few saw it and fewer still would survive to speak of it. The hardest pressed were those household guards still capable, several high ranked advisers and nobility as well as many of the military leadership gathered about their fallen Emperor. They were defending in a tight corner behind the throne with little room to deal effective blows. A dozen Shaekel assassins glided swiftly forward on silent feet offering threat to the goddess with captured staff, pike, sword and halberd. She tapped her bloodied blade on her left palm as she strode to meet them with some menace of her own. Her mind only registered people needed her help. The familiar comforting feeling of power was surging through her and the sword felt light in her grasp. Eric arrived at the door just in time to see Melinda dart left as her blade drew a crimson arc to fell an attacker in a blink. Always, he was awe-struck when Melinda wielded her shining steel. Her blade returned in a backhand parry to smash halberd and sword sending another to the floor writhing with his chest laid open. Eric could feel his hand drawing his Sig but this was all happening for him in slow motion now. Golden hair flashed, shining steel did also and Melinda took another's head with a murderous forehand.

"Melinda," he yelled but in the time it took to say the word, that steel extension of her will returned in a crimson arc and sundered a Shaekel assassin to the breastbone.

"Eric," she heaved, the reply an effort as her parry removed a threat then a shield was battered aside and her blade became the one now offering lethal promise.
 
Lakeside said:
Well, I'm doing..

Chapter 5


The Sword of the Guard


The sword of the guard was said to have been stolen from the laps of the gods.
Stolen it had to be for it was ensorcelled thus by those its wielders would protect from harm.
A sword, cast from a shard of the moon, fired in the ovens of hell, a sword from a guard to the hall of heroes.
It was also said that mortal man was but a vassal of the sword for the sword sought its own destiny.
Be it also known, no living mortal has fallen whilst wielding this sword in battle.
Few who ever posses the sword bespeak too loudly of their miraculous windfall as minions will doubt and steel will clash.
Those who face this sword can not say as their voices echo not in this mortal plain. A legend ever grows e're the telling - or so they say.


A portal supporting huge polished timber doors, burnished with strips of gleaming metal and bearing ornate heraldry emblems stood majestically before Melinda's gaze. The sentries, normally positioned outside were not visible and then she heard the scream. It was the cry of someone mortally struck and she knew the sound well. She slowed her run, leant strongly into the doors and was surprised when they began to swing inwards.

"Melinda," Eric called from behind but she simply beckoned him forward and vanished from his sight into the room. "Wizard calling Tiger Team, urgent: There’s trouble at the Imperial chambers. Get here now.”

One all-encompassing look sent shivers up Melinda’s spine and all appeared madness within the room. Guards lay about still or writhing in agony and screaming. Several groups were engaged in swordplay and she gasped when she saw the prostrate form of Emperor Daius Harkaralon lying in a pool of blood.

"Daius," she screamed. "Nooooo!" Primal elemental fires, dark, menacing and ethereal sprang into sparkling life in Melinda's topaz-blue eyes. A look of intense anger washed across her face and tomorrow, she would remember nothing of the next few minutes.

A small dark shape leapt at her and then another did as well from positions alongside the door. With barely a glance, her blade hummed and her shimmering flash of steel splattered blood five metres up the wall.

"The Goddess," someone screamed.

"The Emperor is dead," another bemoaned loudly.

Deadly resolve washed across Melinda's face but few saw it and fewer still would survive to speak of it. The hardest pressed were those household guards still capable, several high ranked advisers and nobility as well as many of the military leadership gathered about their fallen Emperor. They were defending in a tight corner behind the throne with little room to deal effective blows. A dozen Shaekel assassins glided swiftly forward on silent feet offering threat to the goddess with captured staff, pike, sword and halberd. She tapped her bloodied blade on her left palm as she strode to meet them with some menace of her own. Her mind only registered people needed her help. The familiar comforting feeling of power was surging through her and the sword felt light in her grasp. Eric arrived at the door just in time to see Melinda dart left as her blade drew a crimson arc to fell an attacker in a blink. Always, he was awe-struck when Melinda wielded her shining steel. Her blade returned in a backhand parry to smash halberd and sword sending another to the floor writhing with his chest laid open. Eric could feel his hand drawing his Sig but this was all happening for him in slow motion now. Golden hair flashed, shining steel did also and Melinda took another's head with a murderous forehand.

"Melinda," he yelled but in the time it took to say the word, that steel extension of her will returned in a crimson arc and sundered a Shaekel assassin to the breastbone.

"Eric," she heaved, the reply an effort as her parry removed a threat then a shield was battered aside and her blade became the one now offering lethal promise.
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