LoneSyndal

Uploaded an image. I'm the one dressed in work clothes (all black) on the left of the Stanley Cup.

Here's a quick rough draft of a remake. Once again, I need opinions. Edit: Once I deem something as no longer worthy, I completely axe it and remake it from ground up. Don't take this the wrong way or anything. But I write things in one go. If it doesn't work, then its good as dead. Note: The reason why this piece feels like an end is because it ends the story of another character in the series (The main guy from The Old Kingdom; the unnamed traveler). The rest of the story features a different protagonist. –---------------------------------- **Prelude Lingering thoughts continued to flow into his mind as he lay to waste at his last stage, the Industrial Kingdom of Raon. The war had finally come to a halt, but at a great price. This turmoil that lasted for seven years had left a gap in the hearts of even the most powerful nations. The wreckage of steel, corpse and the ruins of the metallic city that littered the peaceful scenery before him were proof of such turmoil. There were banners of every major nation that took part in this fight against Raon, the last bastion for the rebel alliance. And then it came to him. He remembered his original goal and thought that he had completed it to his utmost ability. Everything that he had done was for this very moment – to prevent Mankind’s extinction. A long time ago, he met God. This encounter revealed Truth and at the same time, a dreadful realization. He began to form questions that tried to explain the significance of his existence, but was unable to ask them. These lingering thoughts continued to etch further into his mind as he continued to lay there with tears rolling down his face. “Galden?” It was a familiar tone and voice. He remembered the presence of this transcendent being. After all, it was his first friend. “The time has come, are you ready? It will only be for a brief moment.” The soldier’s mouth couldn’t utter a word and his body was unable to shake in reply. He knew that his time had come, but the tears stopped flowing. “I take it you’re satisfied with what you’ve left behind? Everyone here will forever remember you as the hero that ended the war and the strongest champion to have fought. Even if you were a mere fabrication of existence before, it doesn’t mean you cannot make use of it and become something greater. I picked you because you had the potential to change both yourself and the fate of others that was once set in stone.” The thoughts that once weighed down the soldier had lifted. His eyes wavered and shut from the fatigue. The tale of the man known as Galden had finally come to an end as he made his last smile under the setting sun.**

Pies never lie. ;P

@Aeri: > Cliché and dull. I get that you were trying to keep it mysterious, but there's too little information in the writing which doesn't make me want to keep reading. If you'd mentioned some interesting places, characters or similar, then I would have read on to know more about them. As it is I can't muster the interest to read the last sentence. I was honestly forcing myself to read it and that's not conducive to enjoyable prose. And this is precisely why I enjoy posts like yours. I personally don't like naming places in the preludes for some odd reason, mostly because each Prelude is always set at a time that's far from the Chapters. I should be changing that soon however. A bit on the way I write - I continue to write something straight from the heart and stop where I feels it should stop. The rest goes through a bunch of checks without altering what I had going for it. I think I can try to do a bit of a huge overhaul on this one and still try to get what I wanted for it, by then I hope you can review it once more. Thanks for your response! Keep the critical reception coming, I enjoy reading them. ;P

I personally prefer no seeing other's HP. There are many fun strategies that work when being low hp. ;P

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WlVBVKAFFg4 All your RPGs are belong to us.

Author's Note: This is the ORIGINAL STORY that all others from Project Leingod are based on. Because of that reason alone, I will not be making this particular story public. I will however, include the Prelude without any edits as I feel it was a masterpiece on its own. –--------------------------------------------- ~~**Prelude** He reached his hand for the setting sun, but they wouldn’t move. He wasted away his last moments watching the scenery. His body no longer moved the way he wanted to. The excruciating pain he once felt was lost, but he was not unsatisfied. For the first time in many long years, he had truly smiled. What he had achieved, everything he had done, he knew that what he did had truly brought change to the world filled with madness and rage. Tears trickled slowly down his face. He knew that he was born for this exact reason, this exact purpose. His life had been paved by someone else other than him, but he thought it was for the better. Had he continued back then, he would still be wandering aimlessly with no goals, no purpose, and no reason for his existence. The man could hear footsteps, each step bringing the stranger closer to him. He could see the stranger's familiar face after turning his head slightly. “I wouldn’t let an old friend go alone. I’ll accompany you until then,” the stranger’s voice was rough, yet soothing to the man’s soul. There were many things he wished to ask this stranger, but he couldn’t speak. His body no longer had the ability to do so. “You were going to ask, and I shall answer,” the stranger looked at the direction of the setting sun, “I never once doubted your existence, nor have I ever looked down upon it. You were made to bring change to this cycle of hatred. Through your actions… you changed fate, shattered reason, and ultimately made a difference in the world. For that, I’ll be your friend until the end.” The tears of sadness became tears of happiness. Being told that he was useful was all he ever wanted. His memories of the past no longer haunted him. Each memory began to fade into the abyss of his mind. Even with the sun setting, he could see a light shining before him. “Though the world may not remember, I will… old friend.” His eyes finally shut from fatigue. A calm expression spread on his face. And there, he made his last smile.~~

Author's Note: This is part of the same project, _**Project Leingod. However, its a completely different story set in the same universe (but a different world with a subset of rules in regards to how things work). The theme, style, and etc is different in this one and I hope you enjoy it. Same things apply, I would love to read critical critique and responses in order to further develop and mature my writing style. –------------------------------------------ **Prelude** Time went by at a pace he could no longer cope with. Even in this space, he remained the same. Around him were visible afterimages of everything that had come and go. So was the life in the heart of the city. People, no matter where they went, never bothered looking at each other. Ignorance is bliss, or so the saying goes. The ignorant world of monotony was pitiful. Everything always came and went with it, nothing ever truly happening. When something happened, not even a soul would stop to help out. Everyone was out for themselves. His only friend was the night. The night was always there, always embracing him with its shade. He sat with legs pulled to his chest, curled into a ball. This form hid away his tears and loneliness. It kept everything away. He wasn’t sad. Only anger fueled his heart and soul. The world had already rejected him in mind and body. Even his family from birth called him a mistake. To him however, everything was fine as it is. Everyone that took away his light and shine was already dead. His anger stemmed from the burning hatred of not because of the dead, but because of the one who took away his prey. The one who had taken everything away gave him a gift. In his hand was the same weapon used to remove the ones he despised, and with the same weapon he would kill the one who had taken it all away. He would become one with the night. With his gift, he could become even a god. And with such power, he could end his deep seated hatred and return to the cycle that was filled with ignorant bliss. His target was only beyond the door that was just a few meters away from where he sat. It was the perfect setting – a backdoor to a restaurant in an alley that people rarely visited. When it opened, a man came outside with a loose collar and vest. He rolled up his sleeves to reveal a tattoo of a phoenix’s wing. Everything matched the description. The boy who sat curled up lifted his head from between his legs and muttered in a raspy tone, “Sir… do you have any food?” The most likely reaction would be a rejection. “Oh? You want food, huh?” The man’s voice was intense. He cracked his knuckles as he walked up to the boy. “My boss has been really nagging at me lately. If you want food, you’ll have to earn it after this!” He lifted the child up and slammed him against the wall. The tight grip around the child’s collar caused him to choke. It didn’t stop the man however as he sent a punch into the boy’s stomach. He was used to the pain. This was nothing compared to what he had to go through. The child managed to smirk in the situation, “So do I get my food?” He felt another blow to his stomach, making him cough up the saliva in his throat and then dropped to the ground. The answer was obvious however, he wouldn’t get any food, but he couldn’t let his target get away either. “Just get the hell out of my sight!” the man rubbed against his bruised knuckles, walking with his back turned to the child. From his pocket was a metallic contraption which he pulled and was now in his hands. His small two hands held the device in the proper position. When he pulled the trigger, the weak caliber handgun launched a pellet that contacted the man’s back, penetrating one of his lungs from behind. The body fell to the floor just as the smooth jazz played from the speakers around the district. The man turned his head around from where he lay and saw the red eyes in the shadows of the alley. From there he knew what was going on, but he couldn’t say much when coughing out blood and lacking the air to shout. The thoughts in his head raced as the child held the small black old-fashioned pistol with the same smirk on his face. _“Lucifer!”_ The alley echoed with another gunshot, but was almost inaudible compared to the loud jazz that played. When the music faded, so did the child who disappeared in the alley of Central Belka District.**_

Author's Note: Originally, the Prelude was Chapter 1, thus the random edit on this post. I changed it because the character in C1 and C2 were different, so I shifted it backwards one. –---------------------------------------------- **Chapter 2** The many stories of God always fascinated the traveler. Though he wasn’t born during the age of conquest, the many stories that brought about that age heralded the many triumphs of Man. Everything was born from the dark, but those who can take in its opposite, the light, can become stronger. Light gave reason to power. It banished the dark, destroyed it, and did everything the dark couldn’t do. However, even amongst the brightest light, there is a heart of darkness. The laws of balance showed that no matter which is stronger, the other can repel and even fight back. When Man placed a hand on the peak of power, so began his downfall as the tower it built to reach the top crumbled. Kingdoms fell one by one to an overwhelming creature that feasted off of humans and devoured all light. There was one person who said something different. Light wasn’t always light. When the traveler happened to come across the strange person, he was told that the first form of light was a simple flame. It showed power, it burned away its foes, more power could be made from it in the form of metallic weapons, and it lit away the night to dissipate the shadows. There was no concrete proof, but it made sense when around that time, man had nothing to go for them besides being pests for the creatures that were naturally born with affinities to the dark. And one day, he was told something outrageous. There was a place where man once thrived - a place that no longer existed in the normal world. Their success came from ‘Beyond the Door’. The only place that could hide such a Door had to be hidden within The Void. Of the known world, The Void was a thick fog that came and went over time. It could be in one place, and it could be in another. Wherever it went, it left nothing behind to leave trace. It was like a door of its own. This was what caught the traveler’s interest - an adventure that could take him anywhere. Here, the traveler stood beyond the gate. The scenery opened with a large city, abandoned from all inhabitants. The sun shone brightly overhead and reflected over the river that flowed from the outside and along the western wall. Mountains surrounded the landscape and extended beyond the clouds and farther than the eyes could see. Snow buried most of the landscape and various parts of the city. The traveler’s excitement dwindled from here on. Each step he took into the barren city, the weight in his chest became heavier. His body froze when it became unbearable. Something didn’t want him there. It was a feeling of malice and anger followed by a killing intent that he thought he would never sense in his life. As he stood there, he could feel the gaze of the one bearing such an intense emotion. His head tilted to the left, then the right, and then before him once more to find the source of it all. It was an undead avenger draped in armor and rags from head-to-toe. These creatures were rumored to have risen from their deathbeds to perform one last duty. It was said that each undead had to sell their soul or offer it to the Lord. If this Lord accepted their wish, he would grant them a second chance regardless of shape or form and before the young traveler stood such a creature. Its eyes glowed blue from within its rotten skull and there the traveler understood its pain. He could sense its thoughts of wanting to avenge the home he had lost to them. A long time ago the city was bustling with people. When the fog came, so did they. It wasn’t a simple invasion. It was a slaughter that couldn’t have been stopped. People left and right being torn and shredded to bits until they were no longer recognizable. This undead lived in such a place, unable to protect which it lived for. Its strong feelings of hatred is what kept it going, and it wasn’t willing to let even a fellow Man traverse his territory. Trespassing was trespassing after all. The undead walked towards the traveler. It gripped a large club tightly between its two hands and prepared to charge and swing at the traveler. There was no point in defending against a savage attack. A swing from a large blunt weapon would easily cripple an arm, so the traveler leapt to the side. Such a strong swing would’ve left the attacker vulnerable, but having no sense of limits after death allowed the undead to swing without the momentum of the first and return the blow towards the traveler. The sudden change of attack caught the traveler off-guard and the club smashed into his buckler arm. The impact sent the man flying into the snow and before he could even think of regaining his posture, the undead swung its club from behind its head. A roll to the side managed to avoid the strike that shook the earth before the traveler. As he regained his footing, the undead swung the club back up at the traveler’s face. The traveler’s quick reactions allowed him to barely avoid the blow and retaliate with the stroke of his blade reaching for his foe’s neck. Steel grinded the rigid bones away. When the blade was in deep enough, the traveler could feel the weight of his foe’s carcass on his remaining arm. The blue eyes of the creature faded into the darkness of the thick skull and then the body fell to the floor. It was the traveler’s victory once more. His left arm shook and ached with pain. He figured it may have fractured from the blow. However, he didn’t want his journey to end so shortly. The traveler barely set foot into the place and already he was one step closer to death. Losing an arm already cost him a majority of the trip. It would take weeks or even months to heal the fracture through traditional means, but he couldn’t afford to waste time as he had already spent years to get this far. After quickly bandaging his fracture and hanging it onto a sling, he continued his lonely trip into the depths of the city.

Author's Note: I'll separate each section by post. This should make it much more organized IMO. –----------------------------------------------------------------- **Chapter 1** Their eyes met for the first time. From the crown emblem and down to the clothes his opponent wore, the traveler could tell that his enemy was none other than a renowned Hunter of Grenton. The wears and tears of the hunter’s tattered figure revealed his age and time spent in this place. Unlike the traveler’s, the hunter’s eyes showed only an empty lust. Perhaps it was all he ever had left in him – the will of a warrior. Time in this place had no real meaning. All it ever did was fool the minds of the many champions, deluding them from their original goals, and instilling fear into even the bravest of men. Their hands gripped the hilt of their swords. The traveler had a foot in the clear fresh water. It was a strange predicament for him to come across a crazed hunter upon finding water to drink. He could feel the water seep through the soles of his leather shoes, but the cold water couldn’t make the traveler flinch. They were too focused on each other’s stillness. Everything remained stagnant as the two continued to stare down at each other. The traveler’s thoughts continued to race and picture each strike, each reaction, and moment to seize victory. He believed the same may have gone through his foe’s head as well. Their calculating eyes reading each movement and sway of the body. When the time came, the two drew their weapons and poised themselves into striking positions. Their styles differed greatly – from the way they drew their blades, the stances they took, and down to their footing. One thing for certain however, the outcome of the battle had already been decided. As warriors, neither was supposed to falter and lose sight of their original goal. Their blade would dull, their strikes would lose weight, and the lack of willpower would make even the best of warriors succumb to defeat. Nonetheless, the two nameless warriors stood across from each other. They played each other’s moves in their own heads, searching for the most successful strategy they could use. As soon as they decided on what to do, they made their move. It was an instant. The hunter’s feet swiftly glided on the dirt with an almost inaudible sound. His first strike is the key in determining the battle. Pouring all the strength he had to slay his foe in a single stroke, he twisted his body as he leapt off one foot and swung his thin curved blade with both arms with full force. The traveler lifted a buckler that was trapped to his forearm and allowed the blade to brush his defense at an angle as he used his own body to fall backwards to lessen the impact. It was this moment that would decide the end of the duel. As the traveler fell, his blade used the momentum of the brush and fall to cut away at the tendons of one of the hunter’s feet. His foe staggered as he landed and tripped over into the dirt. The insanity that once engulfed the hunter slowly dissipated from his eyes as the victor stood above him and landed the finishing blow with a quick thrust to the neck. The sound of bone crunching temporarily caused the hunter’s eyes to widen before he died. Why the hunter felt at peace? Maybe death was a more of a blessing than living in this realm. There was no way for either of them to return to the previous world. They can only move forward into the unknown. He didn’t follow any law or tradition and found it a habit to collect trophies of his victims. The traveler picked up the sword of his fallen foe and carried it with him as he trekked across the ravine of freshwater. Wind began to pick up and blew between the canyon walls and played a strange melodic tune that echoed through the walls. It had been ages since the traveler last visited the bustling crowd of the cities and the tune continued to bring forth the past. The traveler didn’t hate it. He rather enjoyed such a pleasant tune. After everything had crumbled, he ventured into this place seeking paradise and after traveling for several years, he thought he would lose his sanity to the void. When he first saw the hunter, he thought he had finally met someone who could understand him, but the other’s reaction completely shattered such a thought. This place brought out the worst of its inhabitants. But then something strange happened. The fog suddenly grew thick, up till the traveler could no longer see past his hands. He heard a voice echo in the depths of his mind. _“Fate continues to bring forth new champion born from the death of another… but you, you’re different.”_ The fog dissipated to reveal a straightforward path towards a towering gate as high as the sky. _“Young warrior, you have the birthright to enter… the old kingdom.”_ A loud creak sounded from the gate and gradually became louder as the doors opened just enough to fit the traveler. Was this the door they all sought? The traveler’s thoughts raced with his legs trembling from excitement. He quickly went through the opening and saw the gate shut behind him. _“Your trials now begin… this place is neither a hell nor paradise, but the last bastion before the end.”_

Author's Note: This is purely based on my own idea of a dark fantasy. Era/Age/Timeline of series is completely unrelated to anything else. This is solely a piece that connects a series of stories I've weaved together for years into one called "Project Leingod". The name is something I came up with back in 2000-2001, so don't you dare go calling me a thief if I managed to take something from somewhere. I DO NOT read works by others unless its not a publicized novel or piece of sorts. Everything here is made purely from my own imagination and experience. My skills in writing may be lacking, but please bear with it. Critique me as much as possible to further mature and develop my style. I do not want to be a Tolkien or Martin, I'm writing in my own style that should stand out from others. And now here we go, I present to you, _The Old Kingdom_. –------------------------------------------------------------------------------ **Prelude** It was said that God abandoned his people, but never did anyone said he saved them. A long time ago, people truly believed he was the savior. The fate of Man was at risk when they lived in the abyss. Only when He descended did the people began fighting back for he taught them Light. Within the deepest pits of the Darkness, there is always a Light. This truth brought equilibrium and balanced the scales in Man’s favor against the residents of the Dark. However, even in the heart of Light, there was only more Darkness. When the people began to take notice, they were too late and faced even more perils and soon, the world began to crumble. When all else failed, Man sent its many champions into The Void. It was said that God hid a Door within their world. It was said to hold the key to salvation for at the other side rested God himself. There was no place throughout the known world that would hide a Door as well as The Void, the place of no return. Every champion that ventured into The Void never returned… They all seemed to mock him. Without a memory, an objective, a goal, he ventured the dark hallways of the manor. Every painting, every piece of art, the design of the hallways of the manor all seemed to intimidate him with its design - a jester who pointed fingers and laughed, a peasant who looked down upon a knight, a slave who became knighted with a hoe against a master of the sword. Everything seemed to mock those who had power and skill. The man was quite confident of his skill, or so he assumed. He had a blade, a well-shaped carcass, and an unknown sense of bravery. Every step he took into the darkness, he could feel himself slowly fading. The dark seemed to eat away at him until it completely consumed the bit of light he had. A great deal of time had passed and the feeling of fear and loneliness clouded him. These useless thoughts, however little they may be, continued to grow and engulf the little light he had. When he reached a spiraling staircase, he saw a large painting against the wall and a window above on the opposite wall with a moonlit glow that revealed the frame. The painting showed a crow perched on top of a large skull that seemed to grin at him. A playful Death, he thought. It too was mocking him. However, that feeling of shame faded when he walked up the steps into the moonlit glow. The bit of light it had seemed to melt away the fear, the loneliness, and brought about his inner strength. He stared at the moon and his face became awestruck when the once glowing white moon became red in and instant. The red glow illuminated through the window and he began to feel uneasy. _Caw, Caw!_ The crow gawked at the man who turned to the painting to see the skull had disappeared from its frame. The crow perched on the railing of the stairs just before him and stared, as if waiting for its prey. The man unsheathed the blade from its scabbard and held it up before him, ready to strike at anything. When he turned around, his body stiffened at the sight of a creature he never laid eyes on before - its head was of a goat with large curled horns on its head, a body of a human, and the four legs of a horse. It seemed unreal, but he knew it was there. Its breathing was audible through its nostrils, eyes of bloodlust that seemed to have come for him. The man then heard the words flowing into his head: _“I am the fate that has come for you.”_ He tightened his grip on the hilt of the sword and prepared himself in his usual stance, a lnging pose. The creature saw his will to fight and slowly walked up the steps and pointed at the man with its left arm, then back to its chest. It was as if the creature was inviting him to make the first strike. However, the knight didn’t give in to its temptation for he knew that any rash action would be his downfall. The Void was never such a safe place. _“You can never rebel against Fate. Accept it. The Old Kingdom… is such a place.”_ The knight continued to ignore the words and stared down at his foe that made the first move instead. The creature charged into the knight who in return ducked to the side and slashed one of its forelegs. The stairs made it harder for the creature to retaliate and the man swiftly moved to its back and slashed the tendons of its hind legs. The once intimidating creature was now kneeling along the stairs and was being looked down upon by the knight who smiled at him with bloodthirsty eyes. The knight felt alive. The thrill of combat, the rush in the heat of moment, he could feel himself burning with might as he slew the beast with a swift blow at its neck. When it fell, the knight felt the rush of glory. He triumphed over fate! However, the moon still emitted its red glow. The eerie glow made the dark manor seem more of an abyss than before, but it no longer mattered to him. He wanted to ride on this momentum to the very end. He continued to climb the spiraling staircase until he reached the top. At the end, he was once again in a room draped in darkness. He felt around the room for an exit and found a doorknob. He twisted it and heard the clicking of the lock. Just as he pulled the door open, he felt his body lurched forward and pulled by something. His body slammed into the floor and he quickly tried to dig his fingers into the ground and felt the marble floor strip away his fingertips and nails. He could feel the warm ooze of blood flowing from his hands as his body continued to drag against the floor until his back slammed against a wall. The man’s body was held up in the air, his feet nowhere near the ground. Before he could reach for his sword, his arms and legs were then pulled away, rendering him unable to move. And there he felt a hand covering his mouth as the creature that he thought he slew before stood before him again under the faint red moonlit glow from a nearby window. Its eyes were filled with anger, malice, and vengeance. The creature flared its nostrils as it pierced the man’s body with one of its arms. The knight couldn’t do anything as he was held there. He felt a hand covering his mouth as he tried to cough up the blood. The creature pulled out its hand and grabbed hold of his leg. In an instant, it tore the knight’s leg off his torso and did the same to every other limb. The man tried to cry, but was still being held back by these strange hands that came from the walls and ceilings of the hallway. When his eyes tried to close, they were forced open, being done in by the Fool’s Hands. He could do nothing but watch as the creature ripped open his stomach and spill its contents onto the floor. And there, he knew it was all over. _“Those who venture into The Void… never return.”_