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Divided
May 8, 2005 18:25:04 GMT -5
Post by PJ on May 8, 2005 18:25:04 GMT -5
Hehe, I loved it. Cool lines: The people who filled the entrance hall all ran to Alan to see if they could help, or just to point and laugh. “A book, actually,” PJ confessed. “But it’s how I feel now.” Hehe. Nicely done. Who are the mysterious knights? They seem to be the enemies of the n00bs. And the enemy of our enemy..... Antenora seems convinced they are evil, though. And a love story with Colin would be good. Though, in the end, his tissue-girlfriend gets sneezed on and thrown away, and Colin turns bitter and evil and breaks up with Derik, but appears at the end to save him in the nick of time. Or not. Nicely done. Edit: Oh looky here, what I have made! Some divided art! rapidshare.de/files/1671540/crossbow2.WMV.htmlWatch it, and see!
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Divided
May 12, 2005 10:26:51 GMT -5
Post by Dante on May 12, 2005 10:26:51 GMT -5
In the heart of the mountainous borderlands that separate much of the Internet from the Spam River lies the Coliseum. In days of old, mighty warriors would gather here to see who was worthy of the Champion Debater title, or simply to settle a dispute. Occasionally, captured spammers who had wandered far from their river homeland were captured and brought here, to be eliminated by those Champions.
Times had changed, however. The Coliseum had been sacked, the Champion Debaters been thrown out, and now this was the forward stronghold of the n00bs, led by a terrible spammer from the darkest depths of the Spam River.
“Bring them out to fight!” cried the voice of a Scotsman, and in the central battle arena, two portcullises at opposite ends rose up, and almost identical gladiators strode out. Both were female, and had been fully armed and armoured in purple and green. The purple wielded a long halberd; the green a double-edged axe.
They rushed at each other simultaneously, and their weapons clashed in a frenzy of sparks and hatred. The two battled expertly, but if one could see their eyes one might notice that the two fighters were not healthy – there was a madness there, some disease of the mind which afflicted them both and dulled all emotions but hate.
The battle raged on for hours, each fighter deftly dodging their opponent’s moves and performing expert techniques which were then parried, and so forth – but then the green fighter fumbled, and her purple opponent knocked her to the floor, and then brought the halberd down on her green counterpart’s neck. The crowd roared and bayed for blood, and yet –
The purple fighter could not bring herself to kill the green fighter. Somewhere in the back of her mind, a voice told her that it was wrong. The green fighter did not move, but laid still on the ground, shaking with fear.
“Take them away!” cried the voice again. “There’s no sport in cowardice!”
really cool member guards appeared in the stadium, and dragged the purple and green fighters apart. They were then escorted through their gates again, and the portcullises crashed down.
High above, watching down at the end of the battle from a balcony, stood the Lord Spammer, flanked by four of his most powerful guards. The Lord Spammer was dressed all in black, but otherwise was armoured exactly as his foe, the dark knight. A broadsword was sheathed at his hip, and chains of a shiny, blue-ish metal were draped around him.
“They still will not do it…” he murmured, angrily. “Something holds them back…”
He turned his head upwards, to stare at the two cages which were suspended above his head.
“Is it you two?” he asked. “Are you depriving me of the death of my foes?”
“You are most unreasonable,” said one of the caged creatures, a coyote, in a calm and educated voice. “Stop being so silly and leave us all alone.”
“What do you want?” asked the second caged creature, a cat, sounding similarly erudite. “Why do you insist on keeping us here?”
“What do I want?” chuckled the Lord Spammer. “I want the world, of course. But I don’t want a world with people like them in it. I may as well have a little sport with them, afore they die.”
“You are utterly mad,” replied one of the caged creatures. “You’ll never be allowed to conquer the Internet. Never.”
“We’ll see…” said the Lord Spammer, ominously.
And with that, he turned and strode down a corridor behind him. He carried on down a long flight of spiral stairs and into the chambers below the Coliseum, his guards hurrying to keep up.
“I want to try the knife again.”
The really cool member guards looked hesitant.
“Perhaps you should not,” one advised. “Remember what happened last time. That thing won’t be controlled.”
“You dare to question me?” asked the Lord Spammer, in a terrible voice.
The guard shrank back, and the Lord Spammer strode on. He stopped before a strong metal door, guarded by another two n00bs. Withdrawing a heavy ring of keys from his pocket, the Lord Spammer proceeded to open five locks. He then drew across ten heavy bolts, and twisted a combination lock, the six guards around him looking increasingly nervous. Finally, he threw the door open.
The room behind the strong door was tiny, little more than a closet carved into the rock of the Earth. And at the back of this room, held in place by two metal chains, was a simple kitchen knife, with a short, serrated blade and a wooden handle. It hung against the wall, looking plain and ordinary and utterly out-of-place.
The Lord Spammer chose another two keys from his keyring, and fitted them into the locks of the chains, which were attached firmly to the hilt of the knife. Then, the Lord Spammer seized the knife, and held it before his eyes, admiring the way the light gleamed on its surface. Then, he turned back to his guards, who were crowding the doorway.
“This,” he said, “will win us the war against the Intellecteers once and for -”
Suddenly, the Lord Spammer’s grip failed; the knife slipped from his grasp, spun across the room and buried itself into the heart of one of the guards. The guard slumped to the floor, deleted instantly.
The remaining five guards, and the Lord Spammer, hesitated for a moment, stunned, and then leapt forward to seize the knife. Almost wrestling with it, they pushed into the dungeon-room and clasped the manacles around the knife again, where it hung against the wall again, seeming to mock them with its lack of any power now.
“Right, get out,” said the Lord Spammer. “We’ll deal with it another day.”
The really cool member guards stood in a semicircle outside the door, and the Lord Spammer stepped outside and began to close it. Before it was fully closed, though, the Lord Spammer put his head into the chamber and looked at the knife.
“You can’t defy me forever, Walter,” he said. “Someday, I’ll control you – or my name isn’t Pig! Or VFDSub1992. Greg. Les Paul? Oh, gah!”
And with that the door was slammed shut, and locked again.
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Divided
May 12, 2005 10:27:09 GMT -5
Post by Dante on May 12, 2005 10:27:09 GMT -5
---
Meanwhile, in a different prison…
The really cool member sighed as he checked his instruments. Scalpels, razors, knives… All were stained with blood. But none of them had achieved the task that he had been sent for.
The really cool member had been a doctor, once – long ago. He’d since joined the ranks of the n00bs for his own reasons, and taken the name “d0ct0r,” but his surgical skills stayed with him. It was an unpleasant task that the really cool member Queen had set him, but a necessary one. They had a highly dangerous foe to deal with.
The d0ct0r considered some of the “alternative” instruments which the n00bs in his team had been provided. Swords, axes, maces… The d0ct0r took up a long, thin sword. It was a truly wicked weapon, curved slightly, and the d0ct0r tested the convex edge on his thumb. It was sharp. Red, liquid data trickled down the d0ct0r’s hand.
The d0ct0r was stationed in an underground chamber very much like the basements of the Coliseum – but these walls were less elaborate. There was none of the subtlety of the Coliseum basements, cut direct into the ground. This basement was set in blocks of solid grey data, like a war bunker. An open doorway led into a chamber where his two really cool member associates were now sleeping, and a passageway adjacent to that led, eventually, above ground. The smell of ash drifted from that direction even now. And in one, otherwise plain wall, was set a door similar in size and shape to the gate which opened into the strong-cell in the Coliseum. This door had no locks or bolts, only a single heavy, iron bar across it.
The d0ct0r heaved up the bar, and, hesitating only briefly to “psych himself up,” pulled open the door with some effort and entered in. Inside was his patient – his victim – his enemy. The enemy was harmless for now, chained by greater metals than even the knife at Coliseum. If he were to escape, though, or awaken – there was no telling what danger would befall the n00bs. That was why the really cool member Queen had sent the doctor, why the enemy had its left arm exposed, covered in dozens of shallow cuts which just would not go deeper, and why the d0ct0r was standing here now, with the wicked sword in his hand. The doctor lifted it into the air now, and with a great cry, swung it at the arm of his enemy.
---
The d0ct0r awoke. He realised that he had to have been asleep, because he was lying on the floor of the cell. Realising that he’d left the door open, he glanced hurriedly at his foe – but the enemy was still slumbering, as he had done since the d0ct0r had come.
Then the d0ct0r realised what he had been doing in this room. In his right hand was the hilt of the sword he’d used, but the blade was gone. The floor of the cell was littered with tiny fragments of metal. The blade had shattered into thousands of pieces on impact, with such force that the d0ct0r had been knocked out. The d0ct0r looked at the arm of the enemy. The sword had cut but a shallow wound, oozing blood slightly – no more damage than any of his instruments had done.
Cursing, the d0ct0r hurried out of the room, replacing the bar. One of his associates stumbled into the room at that moment, looking tired and groggy, and saw the d0ctor.
“Any luck?”
The d0ct0r shook his head angrily. “Nothing. Nothing harms it. It’s barely scratched.”
The associate cocked his head slightly, thinking. “Perhaps it’s time to get out the big guns?”
The d0ct0r nodded grimly.
The associate vanished into the bunk-room again, and re-appeared carrying an instrument which resembled a long cylinder, about the size that a football might fit in it. It had a handle beneath it at the weapon end, a trigger-handle a little way behind that, and the weapon itself, poking out from the cylinder, resembled a vicious spike, with thin metal wires coiled around it.
“Uh, I’m afraid we made a mistake. There’s only actually one big gun,” the really cool member said apologetically.
“That will do fine,” said the d0ct0r, with a grimace.
“Be careful with this,” the really cool member said. “Draws power straight from Morris Peak. Almost too dangerous for n00bs to even use. I wouldn’t want to get near a flame myself.”
The bar was pushed up again and the door pulled open. The d0ct0r took hold of the weapon, balancing it on his right shoulder, and advanced.
“I’ll just watch from here,” his associate said, standing nervously by the door.
The d0ct0r advanced on his chained foe, who hung almost lifeless, only its chest rising and falling. The d0ct0r put the weapon to the enemy’s arm, and pulled the trigger. Power and heat began to build up in the tip – and then the enemy’s eyes opened. They turned straight to the d0ct0r, who was completely absorbed in driving the burning tip of the weapon into the enemy’s flesh.
With a bellow of rage, the enemy destroyed the weapon in an instant, and turned the flames back onto the d0ct0r. With barely time for a squeak of fear, the d0ct0r was instantly consumed by fire. The flames began to fill the room; the really cool member on the door slammed it shut, and secured the bar, before retreating to the bunk-room. His companion, awakened, asked if he’d missed anything interesting.
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Divided
May 12, 2005 10:30:40 GMT -5
Post by Ennui on May 12, 2005 10:30:40 GMT -5
Yes, this insuperable chap is easy. The flames give it the lie. I think I thought it was BSam because of the almost drunken state of his sleep, but I see that was erroneous...
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Divided
May 12, 2005 11:18:33 GMT -5
Post by Dante on May 12, 2005 11:18:33 GMT -5
Yes, this insuperable chap is easy. The flames give it the lie. I think I thought it was BSam because of the almost drunken state of his sleep, but I see that was erroneous... Well, I'm not exactly famous for subtlety. Frankly, I thought that they were all really easy. All... How many characters with secret identities do I have now? Is it five or six?
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Divided
May 12, 2005 11:27:34 GMT -5
Post by Ennui on May 12, 2005 11:27:34 GMT -5
I haven't hitherto considered the Dark Knight keeping Antenora captive...
This is really good, Dante. Keep it up. I love your geographical names. I wonder if the Queen of Chaos and Lord Spammer are enemies, or if the latter is subservient to the former. All will, no doubt, be revealed.
Oh, by the way, were the green and purple fighters anyone we know?
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Divided
May 12, 2005 11:35:43 GMT -5
Post by Dante on May 12, 2005 11:35:43 GMT -5
Oh, by the way, were the green and purple fighters anyone we know? Naturally. I like to put in clues, although sometimes the clues are inherent in the title. But I digress. The next Fragment is to be very long, and I don't believe I'm even half-way through it yet. I know what will happen in it, but I can't say what it will look like when written. It contains a lot of backstory, though.
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Antenora
Detriment Deleter
Fiendish Philologist
Put down that harpoon gun, in the name of these wonderful birds!
Posts: 15,891
Likes: 113
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Divided
May 12, 2005 11:58:59 GMT -5
Post by Antenora on May 12, 2005 11:58:59 GMT -5
Excellent chapter.
I think I recognized the green and purple fighters, who seem to be connected to the talking animals in the cages. The place-names are cool as well.
I'm also wondering about how the Queen of Chaos is connected to the Lord Spammer exactly. Wonderful story.
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Divided
May 12, 2005 12:15:13 GMT -5
Post by Amber on May 12, 2005 12:15:13 GMT -5
I think I recognized the green and purple fighters, who seem to be connected to the talking animals in the cages. And Walter. I'm yet to work out which is which though. Another great chapter.
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Divided
May 12, 2005 12:20:42 GMT -5
Post by odh on May 12, 2005 12:20:42 GMT -5
LOVE IT.
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Divided
May 12, 2005 12:20:57 GMT -5
Post by Ennui on May 12, 2005 12:20:57 GMT -5
Oh God! I don't believe I didn't see that. That's hilarious...
EDIT: To redeem my stupidity, I'm pretty sure who the dark knight is...
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Divided
May 13, 2005 6:31:07 GMT -5
Post by PJ on May 13, 2005 6:31:07 GMT -5
From my post in the temp 667: "OMFG that rulz. Who could this enemy be? Dante? Ennui? Akbar? He handled those flames pretty well, perhaps it is Dante..... And with Walter around, I wonder where J could be. Perhaps that female knight..., Tell me, Dante, are the spammers and N00bs enemies, allies, the same people, or what? Also, write more " The two battling knights, I now know their identity, but I'm not quite sure who is who. As for the grey and blue knight from the second fragment, no idea. Akbar is the grey one, perhaps? As for the undefeated one, I think Ennui. I'd say Trag, but he's dead, no?
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Divided
May 13, 2005 8:06:38 GMT -5
Post by Celinra on May 13, 2005 8:06:38 GMT -5
I like the way the story is progressing, it's quite interesting. Although I haven't really been able to figure out who all the unnamed characters are. Not that I've really been focused on that, though.
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Divided
May 14, 2005 1:54:34 GMT -5
Post by Dante on May 14, 2005 1:54:34 GMT -5
The Generic Woods are a place of danger, but it was not always so. It was planted by those who loved the uniform, or held there to be an ideal site which all should replicate. Unfortunately, this made it a prime target for n00bs, who were easily able to infiltrate the poor-quality sites there, recruit new members, and – eventually – destroy. The sites there are all ruined, now, by the n00bs – although some say that they would later meet a greater enemy, one so dreadful that it drove even the n00bs away in fright, and took the forest for itself…
Derik, PJ and Char strode through the identical trees, not knowing what to search for. Occasionally they found wide, square patches of land, completely cleared, although the odd patches of burnt rubble lay here and there. This was where the n00bs had struck, destroying that which had once sustained them and marring the perfection of the forest. In all the forest, though, nothing stirred. There was only the silence, and the three survivors almost felt afraid to break it, for fear of summoning up anything that might be slumbering within.
The trees provided perfect cover for the blue and grey swordsmen, though. They darted from tree to branch to branch to ground, in hot pursuit whilst out of sight.
Weariness struck down Derik, PJ and Char after many hours of walking and finding nothing. They were almost prepared to give up their search for the moment, and sleep, but then they saw something in the distance. Farther into the forest was a castle which was not razed to the ground, although it had seen better days. Its upper floors were crumbled and gone, and vines and plants grew over all the rest. The stones were covered in peeling yellow paint, and not a window could be seen. The sight of the ruined place reminded all three of the survivors of what they had left behind not so long ago…
And there, in a clearing not far from the castle, was a small blue tent, and a campfire. Snicket sat before the campfire, toasting marshmallows on a stick. He was dressed in very simple clothes – a white shirt and trousers, with a brown leather waistcoat and boots. When he saw Derik, PJ and Char he smiled and gave a cheery wave.
“Hello,” he said. “It’s nice to see somebody. It’s been a long time since I spoke to anyone, and I need your help quite badly.”
“Snicket!” cried PJ. “What are you doing, camping alone in the forest? It might be dangerous.”
“Don’t worry,” said Snicket, seeming quite under-whelmed. “I’ve got my weapon right here, for when I need it.”
And with that, he brandished a short wooden sword, made from two pieces of wood crudely nailed together. His three associates gaped in bewilderment.
“Anyway, as I said, I need your help,” Snicket said, seeming completely unaware of the astonishment of Derik, PJ and Char. “I want to perform a rescue mission, but I need more people.”
“A rescue mission?” said Char, rousing herself from her state of shock. “Who were you planning on rescuing?”
“I’m glad that you’re interested,” beamed Snicket. “When you told me what had happened to 667, my first thought was to come here, and see if any of my old friends were still here. I was quite surprised to see the Generic Woods had been attacked, and the L.D.B. ruined. I was almost ready to leave, when I saw something. Something… disturbing.”
“What was it?” asked Derik, needlessly.
“There’s an old, broken window in one of the highest rooms,” said Snicket, “and I was looking up there, and I saw Antenora’s face staring back out.”
“Antenora?” exclaimed Derik. “If she’s still alive, then she’ll make a powerful ally. Did you get to speak to her?”
“Sadly, no,” said Snicket, looking downcast all of a sudden. “I don’t think she noticed me. She seemed to be staring out in that direction.”
He pointed in a direction at a right-angle to the direction of the castle.
“I was going to call out to her,” Snicket went on, “but then she turned away from the window. A moment later, I saw somebody else looking out – somebody dressed rather like a knight, or something.”
Derik suddenly looked very un-nerved.
“A knight, you say?” he asked, fearfully. “Was he dressed all in black, and with chains hanging from him?”
“Not at all,” replied Snicket, sounding puzzled. “No chains, and his armour just looked a metallic grey. Well, I say “his” but really I couldn’t tell – and I couldn’t see very well, so it was hard to tell how he – or she – was dressed. But it wasn’t black.”
Derik looked relieved. PJ and Char looked puzzled.
“Derik, what are you talking about?” Char asked.
But Derik merely shook his head, and raised a hand. It was a painful matter that he did not wish to speak of.
“You look tired,” said Snicket, tactfully changing the subject. “How about we camp here for a few hours, to rest and plan our attack? You can have some marshmallows.”
PJ agreed for Derik and Char, immediately seating himself upon the ground and skewering marshmallows with his crossbow-hand. His friends followed suit, and after two hours of eating, reminiscence, and philosophical debate, they had all fallen asleep, plans for rescue forgotten.
---
Four sleeping children, tired out after many hours of walking. Vulnerable. Easy targets.
Something slithered through the grass – small, thin, silvery. One of the weakest of its kind, yet still dangerous to anyone unprepared.
It selected a victim. Char. The youngest of the group, and so the one least likely to put up any resistance. The creature darted through the grass towards her neck –
“Back, cur!”
The grey swordsman leapt from the trees and brandished a rapier at the creature, which turned straight around and attempted to flee for the trees. The blue swordsman blocked its path, rapier in hand.
“En garde!”
The grey swordsman saw his chance, and went for the creature with his blade.
“Have at thee, knave!”
The creature leapt through the air and into the centre of the clearing, with the blue swordsman in hot pursuit.
“Touché!”
All this commotion roused Derik, PJ, Char and Snicket, who looked through bleary eyes at the sight before them, wondering if they were still dreaming.
The two swordsmen were engaged in direct combat now, their cloaks thrown back to reveal their blue and grey armour, the mark of the eye clear upon their chests. Parrying their blows with its metallic hide was a short, squat creature like nothing imaginable. It resembled two entwined silver coils, and enclosed in the centre of the being was a swirling mass of colour – pure chaos. Swinging its coils outwards to deflect the swords of its attackers, it was doing quite well, and was slowly backing away towards the forest –
But the blue swordsman had spotted his chance. Whilst the creature widened its coils to deflect two swift blows from the grey, the blue thrust his rapier between the gaps in the coils and into the heart of the chaos within. The chaos-mass glowed a blinding white, and then burst into dust, the creature emitting an ear-splitting shriek. The silver coils were left with nothing within, and these crumbled and melted to the ground, before dissolving away.
“Ha!” cried the grey swordsman. “An easy battle.”
“Quite,” said his blue counterpart. “You’ve learnt well.”
“Hi,” said Snicket.
The two swordsmen whirled around to face the four campers, having clearly forgotten all subtlety whilst in the heat of battle.
“Er,” said the blue.
“Hello,” said the grey, nervously, before adding to his associate, in an undertone, “I think we blew the secrecy thing.”
“That you did,” said Derik, placing a hand on his scimitar. “Who are you two? We haven’t had the best impression of armoured warriors thus far in our lives.”
“I sympathise,” said the grey. “But really, we’re friends. Honestly.”
“Accurately,” added the blue.
“Where did you appear from, then?” asked Snicket.
“We were…” the blue swordsman struggled for words. “We’ve been following your progress, and seeing that you don’t come to harm.”
“Have you?” asked PJ, who had his crossbow-arm trained upon the grey. “What for? And why couldn’t you just come out with it and tell us?”
“It’s against his – our – code of honour to reveal ourselves,” said the grey. “We’re lone surviving warriors. We can’t get too close to anyone. Who knows what might happen?”
“And as to what for,” continued the blue, “we have your interests at heart. You are from 667, and we’re doing the best we can to track down survivors and ensure their safety.”
“667?” asked Char, puzzled. “I don’t remember ever seeing you there.”
“It’s been some time since we looked upon 667,” said the blue swordsman, with a sigh. “We meant to help, when we heard of the battle.”
“Meant to help?” asked PJ, bitterly. “Where were you when you ‘meant’ to help, then?”
The two swordsmen shuddered as they remembered…
---
They hadn’t worn masks then, of course. The blue and grey swordsmen had their faces bared as they darted back and forth about the tall metal monster, which slithered about and slashed out at them with its two sharp ends. They had tried to flee before, but the monster had pursued them, repeating over and over its foul taunts.
“It looks like…”
The grey’s sword glanced uselessly off its metal hide, but whilst the monster was distracted, the blue took his chance and pierced one of its bulbous eyes. The thin metal body of the monster writhed out in an agonised scream.
“It is nearly dead!” cried the blue. “Just a little harder…”
But the creature had become suddenly razor-sharp, and hit out at the blue, carving into him. The grey felt sympathy for his master, but knew that he would lose the fight if he allowed compassion to distract him… He thrust into the beast with his sword, and was finally successful in piercing its hide.
“Would you like…” cried out the monster, infuriated. It lashed out again at the grey, red data pouring from its wound, and did not miss…
And then the blue leapt up out of his pain and cut off the monster’s remaining eye. The creature bellowed louder than ever, and began to curl up into a heap on the floor. The grey and blue slashed at its weakening body again and again, wounding it greatly, and eventually, the monster collapsed completely, curling into its most renowned and hated form.
“Help…”
The paperclip finally lay dead at their feet. However, the grey and blue did not celebrate, but looked aghast at each other, at the bleeding ruins of their faces…
---
“We were detained,” said the blue, shortly. “By the time we got to 667, it was too late.”
“We don’t even know the full story of what happened,” said the grey. “All we know is what we’ve picked up from intercepted e-mails.”
“All this talk is fine enough,” said PJ. “But am I the only one who doesn’t know what we were just attacked by?”
He was.
“It was a virus,” said Derik, who knew something of the beasts which roamed the Internet.
“Aye,” agreed the blue swordsman. “But a pathetic one. Too weak even to hold its own shape. The more powerful ones can take on their own shapes, becoming more fearsome as they grow in stronger. If it had been allowed to reach you, it would have copied itself onto your data and turned you into a virus aspect.”
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Divided
May 14, 2005 1:55:00 GMT -5
Post by Dante on May 14, 2005 1:55:00 GMT -5
The conversation died at this point, the various parties present reflecting on what they’d been told. Snicket seized his chance to recruit the swordsmen.
“You wouldn’t be up for a rescue mission, would you?” he asked. “We’ve got a friend in that castle, called Antenora, and we think that she’s being held prisoner.”
“Keeping a lady prisoner?!” cried the grey swordsman. “How dishonourable.”
“We’ll help, of course,” said the blue. “Since there’s no point in us going off to hide in the trees again.”
“We’ll need a plan of attack,” said PJ. “The only trouble is, how are we supposed to draw it out when there’s no sand?”
“Sand is not the best medium for communicating a plan of attack,” said the blue, who was rolling his eyes through the slits in his mask. “Here, let’s trace it out on this handy bit of parchment. Now, I propose…”
---
The dark knight was honourable, though. However, his aims required some of the more traditional aspects of honour to be overlooked. He was also very clever, but even the cleverest sometimes grow lazy. Hence, one evening, as he left Antenora after another futile interrogation, he forgot to lock the door.
Antenora opened the door an inch, and glanced out. There was nobody in sight in this corridor, nor was there a sound. The dark knight could always be heard due to the clanking of his armour and the heaviness of his footfalls. Antenora closed the door of her room behind her, and snuck out into a corridor. Left or right? She chose left. She knew the way.
Down another corridor, and past one of the few intact windows. Looking out, she could see a faint wisp of smoke curling up out of the forest nearby. Antenora ran on, and found herself at a flight of stairs. This was not the time to hesitate. She ran up them, and found herself in the ruined and cold upper floors, exposed to the night. The stone floor was covered in ragged yellow carpets and curling creepers. Antenora dashed through the ruin, making her way to the emergency staircase.
And then she heard heavy footfalls, and hid behind a collapsed pillar. The dark knight emerged from beneath a tall archway, from a room which was seemingly-intact. His head was bowed in thought, and he strode right past Antenora’s hiding place. She watched him vanish in the direction of the stairs, and then, again without hesitating, chose to satisfy her curiosity.
Even during the times of peace, Antenora had not visited this room, although she’d explored all the rest of the L.D.B., which had been a very small castle. The doors had always been barred and bolted, and nobody was permitted to enter. The doors were now broken apart, one just hanging off a single hinge, and the bars lay in pieces on the floor. Antenora peered in.
The room was wide, circular, and had probably once been domed, although much of the roof now lay on the floor in piles of yellow stone. The carpet here was edged with gold, keeping some of its dignity even in its tattered state, and in the centre of the room was something very interesting. A huge slab of gold rested in the centre of the room, and buried inside it was a sword. Carved upon the gold were the following words:
ONLY THE GREATEST WARRIOR OF THIS PLACE MAY DRAW THE BLADE OF BANNING.
Blades of Banning are rare. Most administrators are presented only with a Banning Wand, which conjures chains of silvery-blue Bannium metal to bind wrong-doers outside of a site’s grounds. Whilst generally useful, a Banning Wand is completely ineffective against those few who are immune to the binding effects of Bannium, as Tragedy discovered, to his cost. A Blade of Banning, though, is far superior – not only does it delete a foe instantly, but even if one is confronted by an enemy immune to the Bannium metal of which the Blade is forged, then it still serves for use as a capable sword.
The Blade of Banning was a magnificent weapon. The hilt was made of gold, and a large emerald was set in its base. The silvery-blue metal of the Bannium blade had been twisted into elegant curved spikes along its sides, and the weapon had an aura of power about it, and seemed to make the air vibrate. It made a quiet humming noise as Antenora approached.
The dark knight had never been an L.D.B. warrior – he had come upon it as the n00bs sacked it, and taken it for himself, intending to make it his fortress and capture anyone who came near. In the event, only Antenora had ever come near, and she had never provided him with any of the information he wanted. Antenora, though, had long been a member of the L.D.B. – the last one, aside from Snicket, now. And she had often been told that she showed great intelligence, power, and skill…
Antenora approached the Blade of Banning, which seemed to hum slightly louder as she approached. She needed a weapon, and here was one of the greatest of all weapons. She didn’t know if she was worthy of such a powerful sword, but it couldn’t hurt her to try.
Antenora gripped the handle of the sword, and pulled it straight from the gold. Newly exposed to the light, it glimmered and sparkled, and the hilt seemed warm in her hand. She spotted a scabbard tied to a hook on the wall, and, taking it, found it just the right size for a Blade of Banning. Sheathing her new weapon, she continued on her escape mission, with renewed confidence. It is no little thing, to be worthy of a Blade of Banning – and surely such a great weapon gave her a chance in a confrontation with the dark knight, if he appeared to bar her escape?
She found the emergency staircase – a spiralling flight of stairs, set into a turret. These led straight down to the main entrance hall, and to freedom. Antenora took the steps two at a time, heartened by the success of her escape attempt, which had required only a tiny slip-up on the dark knight’s part. She reached the bottom step, and turned out, finding herself at the far entrance of the L.D.B.’s entry hall –
And in the centre of the hall stood the dark knight, framed against the ruined entrance gates, which had seemed so close. A breeze blew from outside, and the dark knight’s red cape flapped about him dramatically, and his burning red eyes were thinned. He seemed more powerful and terrible than ever, his armour-clad body twice as wide as a normal man, far taller too, and in his right hand he carried a huge, rust-coloured sword. His eyes widened in rage, and then flitted to the scabbard at his captive’s waist.
“What have you taken there…?”
But he was distracted as the entrance gates behind him flew open with a resounding clang, and six figures rushed in to face him – Snicket with his wooden sword, Derik with his scimitar, PJ with rapier in one hand and crossbow for anther hand, Char with a handful of knives, and this group of four flanked by the two mysterious warriors in blue and grey.
“Charge!” the group cried.
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After working their way through several plans of action, the group had ultimately been thwarted in their efforts to lay a complex and multi-pronged attack by Snicket’s information that the L.D.B. only had one entrance. So, in the traditional hero style, it was decided that they’d all rush straight in and kill anything which got in their way whilst they tried to find Antenora, and leave Colin to guard the campsite. Nobody had expected the dark knight to be waiting in the middle of the entrance hall, though. All the group stopped dead in their tracks, save for Snicket, who ran on and struck the dark knight with his sword. The wooden blade glanced uselessly off his armour, and the dark knight turned to face Snicket and, in one fluid movement, thrust his own sword into Snicket’s chest.
The colour drained from everyone present, and Antenora’s stomach turned over sickeningly. Snicket seemed frozen into place, but slowly, he began to disappear, his data crumbling away from his body, leaving just a heap on the floor. This began to shift, though, and then floated upwards, re-forming again…
…Into another dark knight, with an identical sword, who stood and faced his creator.
“You deal with them,” the original knight said. “Antenora and I must have a little talk.”
The knight which had been Snicket nodded, and turned to face the invading group of warriors, sword raised in the air, whilst the dark knight advanced on Antenora.
“Snicket, Snicket!” Char cried. “It’s us, your… uh, friends! Don’t you remember?”
“No, he doesn’t,” said Derik. “It’s not Snicket, there’s nothing there of Snicket. The data that made up his body has been taken over – he’s become a virus aspect. That dark knight must be a virus.”
“Uh-oh,” said PJ, backing away from the knight-aspect.
“But any virus aspect is weaker than the original,” cried the blue swordsmen, “and this is a battle of five against one. So let’s not tarry and chat, let’s put this creature down, and then move onto the main enemy.”
The blue swordsman, followed swiftly by the grey, dashed forward and began to battle the knight-aspect, parrying his blows and searching for any chink in his armour. Char began to hurl knives at the aspect, aiming for the slit in his helmet, whilst PJ debated with himself whether it would be cooler to follow suit and use his crossbow-arm, or to join the blue and grey swordsmen in their battle. Derik had drawn his scimitar, and ran forward to defend the grey and the blue swordsmen, buying them more time to find the knight-aspect’s weaknesses.
Meanwhile, the true dark knight was slowly walking towards Antenora, his red eyes glowing more fiercely than ever. Antenora had nowhere to run save for the stairs, but the time for running was long past. She drew the Blade of Banning, and the dark knight hesitated.
“And why were you able to take that sword, and not I?”
Antenora pointed the sword at him, threateningly. The dark knight, knowing the power that a Blade of Banning possessed, adopted a different approach.
“Come now, Antenora, don’t be silly,” he said, employing his smooth, soothing voice again. “You don’t want to wave that thing at me. I’m not your enemy.”
The battle taking place behind his back indicated otherwise.
“Think for a minute,” the dark knight smiled. “Who attacked and over-ran the Generic Woods? Who exploited the war at 667? It wasn’t viruses. We share a common foe.”
“I’m not convinced,” said Antenora. “If we’re allies, then why did you hold me prisoner?”
“Because I needed your information, and you just would not give it to me,” the dark knight replied. “All I want is details of the really cool member forces that attacked 667, to aid my own side.”
“Your own side is even worse,” replied Antenora, tightening her grip on the Blade of Banning. “N00bs just want to take over the Internet. Viruses want to destroy it. That’s why you turn everyone you touch into virus aspects. Once there’s nobody left, there’ll be nobody to stop you from destroying the Internet.”
“Now, Antenora…” crooned the dark knight, taking a single step forward and reaching out his free hand. Antenora reacted instantly, and brought the Blade of Banning down on his wrist. The dark knight’s armour shattered at this point, and for a second his hand floated in the air before crumbling into nothing. The dark knight was left with a cracked and blackened stump for a wrist. He recoiled, and stared at his arm.
“So, you want a fight, then?” he growled. “Fine. There will always be others weaker than you, who’ll tell me what I want to know. You’re more trouble than you’re worth. Now, fight me!”
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Meanwhile, the battle against the virus aspect was nearly over. PJ had chosen to stand at short range and simultaneously fire at the aspect’s face and duel it with his rapier. The virus aspect, forced to fight against four swords whilst tugging bolts and knives from his face, was completely overwhelmed. It had not the talent of its creator virus, and could simply not fight against the many blows raining down on its head. The grey swordsman detected weakness and plunged his blade into the virus aspect’s face, whilst Derik smote the aspect across the chest as hard as he could. The aspect’s breastplate was cracked right down the centre, and the cracks spread out, across the aspect’s entire body, and then its opponents struck simultaneously – Char hurled a handful of knives at the aspect, PJ fired a bolt and stabbed at its chest with his rapier, Derik and the two swordsmen following suit. The six blows shattered the virus aspect, and it crumbled away, each of its cracked pieces dissolving into dust.
The group advanced on the dark knight, which was advancing on Antenora. The group advanced faster, and a hail of blows rained down on the dark knight’s back. In a surprising display of agility and lame pseudo-martial-arts skills, the dark knight did a backflip over the group and landed in the centre of the entrance hall again, the force of his impact with the floor cracking the tiles. In an instant, the group of fighters, now with Antenora amongst their ranks, turned and re-grouped, and stared across the hall at the dark knight staring across the hall at them.
“The only way to kill a virus,” said the blue swordsman, “is to strike at the chaos inside its heart. We must destroy its armour.”
“Which is easier said than done,” said PJ.
“Are you alright?” Char asked Antenora. The latter nodded. Physically, she was fine, although her mind was still taking in Snicket’s death.
The dark knight made his first move whilst they were muttering, charging towards the group with his sword outstretched. He raised his sword to cut them all down, and was surprised when it was met by five other swords, which pushed him away. The dark knight was surprised, and this moment of hesitation was exploited by Char, who, showing remarkable aim, buried five knives into his face. The dark knight stumbled, and raised his sword – but Antenora cut down again with the Blade of Banning and shattered it into a thousand pieces.
“Hey, this is easy,” said PJ. He took the opportunity to fire several bolts into the dark knight’s face.
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