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people online in the last 10 minutes - 0 members, 0 anon and 0 guests. (Most ever was 33 at 13:04:57 Thu Dec 12 2013)

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Beta_Raptor
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Twisted Wings
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Other shorts. ( 00:36:20 FriDec 12 2003 )

if i write any other stories this is were i'll put them...

  
Beta_Raptor
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Re: Other shorts. ( 00:36:49 FriDec 12 2003 )

He let out a deep breath and inhaled again, savoring the bittersweet aroma of the crisp Autumn air. Turning his head into the breeze, Wolfgang took another deep breath. He loved Autumn. The smells of the dead leaves, the caressing bite of the chill air. It reminded him of the descriptions of magical sents in stories. He loved it for the subtle sound of the leaves falling to their place with the already fallen, but this pleasant sound was drowned out by one he appreciated even more. His Music. And thus he was, standing alone on the side on the road,black shoes barely visible underneath the golden carpet of golden leaves, the right pocket of his sagging black jeans heavy with a CD player, the black cord blending in with the dark green folds of his fleese, leading to his headphones.

His features set in a perpetual glare, a glare that was meant for the whole world. He didn't like the world...it wasn't as he wanted it to be. To him it was mundane, it needed something more. Like Magic he thought. Like clashing of steel on steel in combat. He thought deeply. This was just one of the many deep thoughts he had when waiting here every day, listening to his music. A moment later his train of thought and his music were to be inrerrupted. As the long yellow bus came rumbling down the newly paved road, he looked up and followed is slow progress, like an owl watching a man walk under its roost. He sighed and waited for the glass door to squeak open and walked toward it when it did so.

Upon stepping into the dark bus, his senses were accosted by a berrage of muffled engine noise, shouting and sniffling as he walked to his usual seat. Rear right weelwell. He sat down on the fake brown leather seat and removed his CD player from its pocket to prevent it from skinning due to the vibrations of the bus. His sanceswere further annoyed by a ten year old child now hanging over the seat in front to talk to him. He wasn't heard, the heavy beats of Wolfgang's music saw to that, but the child's breath reminded him of cheese crackers and cat droppings. Finding nothing of intrest, as usual, in this disturbance, he looked out the window and was overcome by a thick darkness.

Wolfgang awoke to a thundering sound, and a headache to match. He felt around and realised he was sitting on a patch of frost covered grass. When he opened his eyes, he abruptly shut them. Cusiously opening them again, he couldn't belive what he was seeing. He was on the edge of a forest clearing, and in the middle of the clearing below were people..hundreds of people dressed in plate and mail armor, weilding longswords, axes, spears, and a multitude of ather weapons. They were all hacking away at eachother, as he stared thunderstruck he noticed someone calling him.
"Wolf! Wolf! Get up and get your red ass over here mage!" A tall, heavily armored man was shouting at him from several meters away. Still at a loss as to were he was, he mindlessly got up to run to the man, who he helf for some reason was a friend, and abruptly tripped ofer the hem of his robes. Robes?! Mage?! Wolfgang tried to make sence of all the confusion buzzing through his head, but abandoned it, hitched up the robes he discovered himself in and fan to the man who had hailed him. Before he could speak, the man was shouting orders to him. "They're pushing through the lines! We have to take down this first wave if we want haf an ass's chance of holding the keep, our bowmen are running low, and they are getting to meshed in with out treeps to keep firing effectively. You vaulenteered, now go and work your hokus-pokus!" The man gestured to the clashing forces and is it cam back to Wolfgang were he was. With a firm, resolved look on his face, he turned and began running downhill, into the heart of the battle. The yells and screams of the fighting and dying grew more and more deafaning as he drew nearer, and the smell of blood grew with it. He knew what he had to do. He had to provide pricice long-range support for the infantry, or the enemy would push throiugh with their first line and demolish the resistance.

Upon reaching the heart of the battle, three enemy worriors charged at them, with the insenstion of chruching him and cutting him to ribbons at the same time. Their battle cries were cut short as a ball of lightening flew from the end of his fingers and his the middle assailant dead center and arced to his fellows, leaving three twitching and charred bodies. From here he could see the main force hacking their way through the lines. He could pick them off one by one from here also. He raises a hand up high, and chanting words of magic, pointed at the rearest enemy. Without orders his comrades encircled him to protect him while casting his spells. A single ribbon of flame shot from the tip of his finger and passed through the target's chest, sending the man to the ground with a shreik of pain. Chanting the beginning of another spell, Wolfgang prepared to sheild the friendly soldiers nearest the enemy. The spell was nerly complete, and when finished would give him even fruther protection to cast more destructive spells. He noticed it too late. Out of the corner of his glased eyes, he saw the single arrow flying through the air. He stopped chanting, and tried to avoid the arrow. The sheild that was biulding failed and the arrow hit home, burying itself in Wolfgang's chest. He could feel his life's blood draining away through the wound. He could hear the last beats of his heart and sighed. He had failed.

Suddenly Wolfgang awoke. The last beats of the last track playing. The bus slowed to a stop and he sighed, rose, and walked slowly down the isle.

  

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