Thorn's Storyline Clinic (Now with better examples)

[Thorn]

It's a pandemic in today's world, and I'm out to set things right.

Symptoms of terrible storylines may include:

-Nausea or dizziness upon reading the story
-Derogatory laughter or flaming
-Lack of people who give a fifth of a crap about your game because the first thing they see is almost word for word the background of many other games

Though I'm currently attending college, I still have some time and am looking to flex creative muscles for other purposes. If you need a storyline or setting background (suck-free guarantee- if your audience says it sucks, I'll replace it), simply ask me!

If I don't get back to you RIGHT AWAY it's because I have access to internet usually once a day. I WILL get back to you if you contact me, though.

Following is a sample of my work from the game Solinia Online, currently on indefinite hiatus. The contents of the wiki are being posted here strictly as a sample of my work.

>! [A race of Mushroom People](http://soliniaonline.wikia.com/wiki/Game:Setagn)
[Capital city of the above Mushroom People](http://soliniaonline.wikia.com/wiki/Game:Mycolgn)
[A lost continent of Steampunk-inspired lifeforms,](http://soliniaonline.wikia.com/wiki/Game:Alatyr) note that there are many pages linked to from that one and all of them were also written by me.

[Lukin]

Maybe you could include some kind of sample of what you have done before? :P

[Thorn]

Adding in sample work, two short stories. I can write just about anything, on request.

The Awakening of Khraz

>! The sun rose over the city, and the people stirred.
Market stalls were wheeled into place, stores opened their doors and the smell of fresh bread wafted through the air. It was a good day to be an imperial citizen.
It was an entirely standard, soul crushing day to be an imperial slave, however.
Deep beneath the city, the forges were being coaxed into burning life. The guttural cries of the slavemasters could be heard, waking their charges with a blend of harsh words and harsher whip strokes. The sun was up, and there was work to be done.
>! Assigned to the mines, as he had been for the past few years, Khraz shuffled down the tunnel. Forced to adopt a hunched posture to avoid cracking his horns on the low roof, he tried to at the same time not move to sharply and jerk the line of chains connecting him to the other slaves.
He resented his position as much as any of the slaves, but was accustomed to it. He was of the second generation, born into slavery. Minotaurs were valuable slaves, being strong as a full grown man in their childhood, and only getting more powerful as they age. The racial tendency to strength combined with a lifetime of forced labour had left Khraz draped in plates of muscle. Muscle which would today be bent towards extracting coal from the earth.
>! Mercifully, the actual mine had a higher roof. More efficient if slaves can properly swing a pickaxe, after all. As they proceeded into the mine, slaves were unlocked from the back and tethered to points near where they were working. Slaves with pickaxes could hardly be trusted not to try to run, after all.
They eventually arrived at Khraz' dig. Tethered to the wall, a pickaxe was dropped at the earth at his feet. His workday had begun. Numbly, he hefted the tool and began swinging at the wall. He didn't mind physical labour, it was easy enough to hit quota and it gave his mind time to wander. As the metal tip bit into the stone, his mind began to drift backwards.
>! He found that the only thing that got him through the day was recalling the stories. In the interest of having strong slaves, children too young to work are allowed to stay with their mother until deemed ready. As a child, Khraz' mother had entertained him with stories of what his kind once were. Carving labyrinthine homes into mountainsides, defending their ground against the advances of ogres, and striking back at those who dared to test their strength.
As the pick parted the earth, he willed his mind away. Off, to the citadel-maze of Galhannak, now likely nothing more than a pile of rubble and memories. Once, the strongest bastion of his kind.
>! He was called back to reality by the dim realization that someone was calling him. Turning, he saw another slave.
She was a centaur. Close cropped hair, the color of dirty sand. She attempted a faint smile at him, before gesturing to the cart she had been harnessed to, shovel protruding from it.
Returning the wilted smile, Khraz dropped the pick and took up the shovel, beginning to fill the cart with the pile of coal he'd produced. Glancing at her again, he found himself compelled to speak, albeit in a hushed tone.
"Never seen a centaur down in the mines before."
"I've only been a slave for a few months. I was working above, but tried to resist. This is punishment."
Khraz was a little surprised. He'd only been moved when they decided they needed muscle somewhere else. The thought of resisting had never really been there for him.
"Why did you try to resist?" She looked at him with shock in her eyes.
"Why wouldn't you resist? Being a slave is terrible!"
Khraz was about to respond before a loud crack knocked the centaur's head sideways, and a bright red line appeared on the side of her face.
"Back to work, beasts! No talking!" The angry voice of the masked slave master boomed.
Resenting his position more than normal, Khraz continued to shovel in silence.
>! That night, her question burned in his mind and kept him awake. Why wouldn't he resist? All his life, it had been drilled into him that it was useless to fight them, that those who resisted would be punished or killed, and that they had no chance whatsoever. But the more he thought about it, the more he began to wonder. He'd mined iron before, and that had parted under his pick without too much trouble. He easily had the muscle of four strong humans, so why was it that he feared them so much?
All the same, a lifetime of training wasn't so easy to overcome. The hoods of the slave masters still instilled fear in any of the second generation slaves, and even if he could fight, there was an entire city between him and freedom. Such were the thoughts that plagued him until he drifted off into rough sleep.
>! Even his dreams gave him no rest, however. Fragmented and strange visions appeared to him, recalling forgotten stories from his mother. A Minotaur warlord, wielding an enormous pole-axe, stood under blood red skies and roared a challenge at the approaching army.
A group of mercenaries, lost in a maze, slowly fell into states of paranoia before a bull-headed vision of death rounded a corner and claimed them.
Upon waking, the sound of the whips sounded almost like shattering chains in Khraz' ears.
>! As the work day begun, Khraz attacked the wall with new vigor. Where before, each stroke had sent him further into memories of the past, now every strike at the wall was, in his eyes, a swing at a human. As the wall of coal was slowly shattered and cast to the ground, so too was the inbred fear and slave mentality starting crumble.
When the centaur came again, Khraz had to fight to suppress a wild grin. As he began to fill the cart, he once more started talking in a hushed tone.
"I think I know why I didn't think of resisting." The centaur looked confused for a moment, but then she seemed to remember the talk.
"I'd never learned to. Thank you." Breaking out into the grin he'd been trying to suppress, he stuck the shovel into the full cart. The centaur seemed about to respond before she noticed the glance of a slave master in her direction. She spared Khraz a smile, and started out the tunnel.
>! That night, Khraz once more dreamed of things he'd never seen. In his mind, the legends of his youth were given flesh. Heroes of his kind, leaving trails of bloody ruin in their wake. A force of Minotaurs annihilating a force many times their own size.
Khraz awoke with a burning seed in his heart. His people had suffered. His people had been ruined. As he looked around, he saw the other slaves. Harpies, Goblins, Trolls, all had been broken under the heel of this empire. All of them had similar stories. They had all been wronged. Khraz couldn't help but let a quiet snarl escape his lips before he allowed himself to once more be brought to the mines.
>! With a fire in him he'd never known, he struck at the wall as never before, carving gouges in the stone deep as a man's hand. He knew at that point that the fear he had been instilled with was pure lies. The empire of man could forge no armor that could resist his strength, nor forged any shield that could protect them from his newly awakened wrath.
>! He was trying to figure how many loads of coal he'd torn from the wall when he heard it. He was familiar with the staccato sound of repeated whip cracks, but the scream was new. Not entirely new, though. He knew the voice. From just up the tunnel, he could hear the centaur screaming. With that, the seed in his heart erupted, as did his temper.
Not bothering to pick up the pickaxe, he lurched forwards before he caught the end of the chain. With a loud growl, he put his weight forward and jerked, with all his might.
All his might was enough to break the chain several times over, and a little surprised at the ease with which it gave, he stumbled forward a few steps before charging up the mine tunnel.
>! He hadn't really had much of a plan to start with, but the sight when he arrived took away what ideas he had. The centaur was on the ground, covered in bloody lines from the whip. The slave master was standing over her, shouting angrily.
The anger within Khraz erupted. The lifetime of abuse condensed into one, deafening, bellowing warcry. Half mad with an anger he'd never known, he reached for the closest thing available as a weapon.
>! Most people wouldn't be able to life a cart of that size at all, let alone heft it up like a club and bring it crashing into the slavemaster, turning him into a chunky pulp against the wall.
Dropping the shattered cart, he dimly noticed that, in his fury, he'd shattered the chains binding his wrists and ankles. His focus was quickly on the sound, however. He could already hear shouting and heavy footfalls from up the tunnel. His lips curled into a snarl. He glanced backwards at the fallen centaur.
She was breathing, but had been badly beaten. She'd live through this, but Khraz realized she wouldn't be in any shape to do what Khraz was about to do. Silently, he vowed he'd return for her. Growling, He charged up the tunnel.
>! The mine guards weren't used to any kind of fight that didn't involve them beating a cowering weakling, and as such were uniquely poorly equipped to fight the horned fury that erupted from the depths like some nightmare beast. The first was skewered on a horn fully half a foot thick. The rest were crushed into the walls or ground so fast that they hardly knew what was happening. Shaking the dead guard off his head, Khraz was surprised at how light they were. A manic grin spread over his face.
>! When Khraz erupted out of the mines, he heard a panicked shout from his left. Behind a window in a small guard post, a frantic looking guard was trying to load a crossbow.
Moments later, standing in the ruins of the guard post, Khraz realized that wood broke easily. The crushed form of the guard hadn't seemed to have been protected at all by the wall that Khraz waded through like dense underbrush. Khraz chose not to stick around, and began running.
>! He'd never been into the city proper, but as he wound into the streets he was both lost and somewhat horrified. Everywhere, humans being doted on by slaves. It seemed that simply not being human was enough to make you a servant to these people. As terrified civilians tried to dive out of the way with varying success, he saw a sight that compelled him to act.
Through a window in the corner of a building, he was able to make out the signature hood of a slavemaster. Glancing inside, he saw an entire room full of small, reptilian humanoids, carving quickly as the slavemaster yelled at them. That was as much as Khraz needed to see.
>! With a sweeping strike, he put his arm through the corner of the building and smashed the slavemaster into and through the wall. As he raised his glance from the corpse, he saw the eyes of every one of the small creatures was on him, and many jaws had dropped. He faced them, and yelled the only word that came to mind:
"FREEDOM!"
>! The city became a blur. Guards attacked, and Khraz fought back, swinging anything he could find at them. Doors, food carts and even people became clubs and projectiles in his hands.
It seemed that the sight of his assault leant others heart, and as the running battle progressed he found himself joined by other slaves from all walks. Trolls cast themselves from windows, hauling their broken forms from the ground even as they began to regenerate their wounds. Goblins poured from the kitchens, and before he realized it Khraz had amassed a sizeable force behind him.
Then, just before they had made good their escape, the gate guard stood in their path.
>! Plated in heavy steel and wielding pikes longer then they were tall, they leveled their weapons at the slave horde. Khraz didn't slow.
He'd seen the look of fear in the eyes of the slaves before, and recognized it in the eyes of the guards now. Khraz accelerated.
For the first time in decades, a true Minotaur war cry broke the air.
>! Khraz wouldn't be skewered. Not now, not when he was this close. With a precision born of necessity, he grabbed the pike angled at him mid charge and flung the guard holding it sideways into the rest. Launching himself into their midst, Khraz ripped them apart. Crushing their armor with less effort than he would have thought, he hardly gave them a chance to attack him. His charge heartened the other slaves, and within moments the entire mass of them was pouring over the guards and tearing them apart.
Several of the slaves met their end, but not one of the guards was left standing.
>! As night fell, Khraz looked down upon the city. They had lost more of their number yet to archers as they fled, but most of them were still here.
The slaves may have come from many races, but the fires of suffering had forged them into one people. Khraz' people. As he looked over the city, he knew that his people were still enslaved in there. And with just as much certainty knew that he wouldn't rest until his people were free, and the empire of man had fallen.

Dragonknight

>! "I still can't believe this is the last time I'll ever have to climb on to one of these mangy halfbreeds!"
"And I can't believe how many times you've said that!"
Seth grinned in response at his partner, Tarm. Today was his last day riding a wyvern, one of the small, runty dragon subraces. After a unexpected display of aerial prowess at the battle of Harrow Gorge, he had finally been recommended to become a proper Knight and select a personal mount. Of course it would be a full-blooded Dragon, one of the awe-inspiring namesakes of his people. But, first things first, there was still today's patrol around the Wyrmclaw Craghs.
>! On foggy days like this, vigilance was a must. Easing into the saddle, he rapped his heels into the wyvern's flank. With the signature roar that sounded more like a prolonged shriek of a crow than the throaty roar one would expect from a beast of that size, the wyvern took a bounding leap off the ledge. The straight dive snapped into a steep angle as the wings flared open and immediately filled with air, and the beast wheeled through a shockingly tight arc as it came back up to level.
Moments later, Seth was pulling into a level glide next to Tarm. Turning, he yelled as best he could, with the wind stealing the sound away.
"Havenscraw peak first then?"
Tarm, nodding, was already angling towards the direction of the summit, still shrouded in the low clouds and high fog. Grin widening, Seth layed low in the saddle and and dug his heels in further, spurring the wyvern onwards.
>! Of the midmorning sunlight, little pierced the blanket of fog that enshrouded the mountaintop village of Havenscraw. Circling, the riders saw no sign of trouble and began to edge their mounts into a downward glide.
Landing with a soft thump near a well, Tarm dismounted as he made his way to haul up a bucket of water.
"So why Dragons?"
Seth looked over, a little surprised at the question.
"Well, why NOT Dragons? They're bigger than anything else in the skies, nothing comes CLOSE in one on one combat, and Dragonriders are like heroes to a lot of people. "
"People that haven't met one, that is." Torm muttered under his breath.
"Sorry?"
"Just an idle thought. Come on, help me get these beasts watered and we can be back to the skies."
>! After verifying the calmness of Havenscraw, they flew off towards the vast expanse of the Goradra canyon, possibly the largest rift in the earth in the entire region. The fog from the surrounding area poured into it like water in slow motion, so that the walls and the depths were veiled, though rough shapes could still be made out. Tucking into a dive, they plummeted into the canyon like enormous stones, and snapped out with loss of momentum that seemed almost impossible for their mass. Easing into a gentle glide, they made their way to the village of Grapplerest, built into a series of ledges and artificial platforms on the very wall of the canyon.
>! Dismounting, Seth led the wyverns to the fountain, a stone trough that was the terminus of an underground river that poured from the rock of the cliff face. Though wyverns could fly at great speed for periods of time, they were certainly thirsty beasts. As Seth was contemplating this, Tarm returned with food.
"I don't know why they bother having us even come out this way, there's nothing dangerous in the canyon this high above the floor." Tossing Seth a piece of bread, Tarm joined him in leaning against the fountain.
"I mean, I'll be honest with you. There have been days where I just didn't even bother coming here, and yet the world's kept on turning. I mean there hasn't even…"
Tarm trailed off as a loud splintering sound was heard from below, followed by screaming.
The food suddenly ignored, Tarm and Seth bolted over to the edge of the platform.
Several levels down, a considerable chunk of the platform seemed to have been torn away, and in the distance the people who had had the poor fortune to be on it could still be seen spinning away into the fog. From the right, a staccato screech erupted, shortly answered by several more.
"Drakes. Hungry bastards!" Tarm turned on his heel and sprinted back to his mount, with Seth following suit. Moments later, they were airborne once more.
One on one a Drake was no match for a Wyvern, but drakes were pack animals, often called the wolves of the sky. Their small, light frames could glide on the lightest of thermals, and in groups they could take down creatures many times their own size.
And now, they were hidden somewhere within the fog.
Soaring through the suddenly silent canyon, the only sounds were the wind and the regular fphm fphm fphm of the wyvern's wings.
Suddenly there was a high-pitched screech, and Seth was nearly thrown from the saddle as one of the drakes crashed into him from the side. This was one of the parts of flying that he hated. He couldn't hope to tell his Wyvern how to fight when plummeting out of the air and grappling with another beast, so the only thing he could do was hang on and hope for the best.
He seemed to be in luck though, his Wyvern was fighting like a beast possessed. Whirling through the sky, it flared its wings momentarily and Seth paled as he saw that they were hurtling towards the cliff face. At seemingly the last moment however, the Wyvern used its larger size to force the drake around, crushing it into the wall. As the attacker plummeted into the foggy depths, Seth coaxed his Wyvern back into a shaking, but stable glide. He had completely lost Tarm.
>! Deciding that the best course of action would be to find out where Grapplerest is and go from there, Seth pulled back into a climb. Soon, arcing above the canyon, he was able to spot a landmark, and out of sheer chance it seemed that he wasn't as far from his starting point as he had feared. Coming down towards the town however, he was able to make out shapes in the fog. Gliding above, he soon saw the shapes of drakes circling a larger mass that HAD to be Tarm, keeping some altitude on him but still unaware of Seth's presence. Realizing that he had the advantage, Seth bade his mount into a dive, directly towards one of the circling shadows.
The impact alone shattered the Drake's spine, and it's lifeless body fell from the sky with hardly a sound. Wings snapping out, the Wyvern pulled into a turn that evolved into a climb, cratering into another Drake from beneath. Before the confused beast even knew what hit it, the Wyvern had locked its powerful jaws around the smaller beast's throat. Soon, it too was plummeting towards the canyon floor. The remaining Drakes, unsure of what happened, brayed a halting screech of terror and wheeled away into the fog, leaving as silently as they had first approached.
Pulling down alongside the larger shadow, Seth found a beaten but still living Torm.
"I think I just found a whole new reason to skip this bloody canyon."
>! Later that day, back at the aerie, Seth and Torm dismounted.
"I can see why they're trusting you with a dragon, that was some impressive flying back there."
Seth grinned.
"You know I like taking credit, but I have to say, this Wyvern fights like a demon. I'd almost miss him, if I wasn't taking such a step up."
Leading the beasts back to the stables, a quizzical look spread across Seth's face.
"Torm, you're a knight. What is it that made you decide to take a Wyvern as your mount when you could have had a Dragon? Dragons are stronger, bigger, and some can even blow fire. Why would you pick a Wyvern over that?" Torm chuckled to himself.
"Wyverns have a fire to them, I thought you would have seen that today. They may not be able to spit it at things like a Dragon, but it's there. It's a hard thing to describe really. But the truth is-" Torm leaned in,
"Dragons scare the crap out of me."
>! It was later still that same day, entering the late afternoon, that Seth eagerly hurried to the first of the Dragonriding lessons. He, along with a handful of other Knights to be, would be beginning the process of earning their reins. Entering the field, he felt something rise in his chest as he saw them. Five meters high at the shoulder, the handful of dragons present took up a large portion of the field. In front of them, the instructor seemed almost petty.
>! "Today, you lot will be climbing onto a Dragon for the first time. Now you may be good riders, you may believe that you will have an easy time of this, but riding a Dragon," he paused for a moment as he looked across the assembled aspirants disdainfully,
"Is NOTHING like riding Wyverns or Drakes. With the lesser breeds, you are the master, and the animal is your tool. When you are riding a Dragon, you are riding not on a mount but on an equal. You do not COMMAND it to do something, you SUGGEST. Never forget that you are a small pile of meat sitting on a mass of muscle that could crush a BUILDING. Now, these dragons here have permitted you sniveling lot to attempt to ride them. I suggest that you find one, and try to convince it not to have you as a light snack."
>! A little put off by the instructor's speech, Seth followed the other Knight aspirants over until he found a Dragon that seemed willing to acknowledge his presence.
He'd seen how Dragonriders mounted up, the effortless way they seemed to haul themselves up the rope while walking up the Dragon's side. There were already saddles on these dragons, with the mounting ropes down the side too. Trying his best to imitate the experienced riders, he gripped the rope and tried to gently place a foot on the dragon's side.
The next he knew, he was on his back a good twenty feet away.
Looking around, he was surprised to see that he had still done better than most. Some were trying to talk to the Dragons, one had been thrown even further than he had and one was dancing away from the patch of ground the Dragon had just casually lit on fire.
>! Hauling himself to his feet, Seth stubbornly marched back to the Dragon. He had seen this done, and if they could do it then so could he. Gripping the rope once more, he put his foot on the Dragon's side a bit more sharply than he intended to. Fortunately, he had been expecting another throw, so this time he was merely swung through the air on the rope.
Trying to buck him, the Dragon turned its huge mass, sending Seth arcing over it. Upside down and eight meters above the ground, Seth reflected on the fact that this was still easier than hanging on to a grappling Wyvern.
Through tenacity and a strength of grip he hadn't known he possessed, Seth finally managed to climb up the rope while being bucked around and haul himself into place on the Dragon's back. Almost as soon as he had seated himself, the beast calmed down, as though it had never been trying to throw him in the first place.
Luckily for him, he had a good forty minutes before everyone else managed to finally mount up.
>! "Now, if you are all QUITE done fooling around, perhaps we may get some actual training in before we lose the light completely. Tell me, how many of you know how to get off the ground?"
Chuckling, everyone put their hands up.
"Perhaps then you would all be so kind as to show me."
Everyone in the group all dug their heels into the flanks of the great beasts. Not a single one moved an inch.
"Now, as you can see, a Dragon is above such animalistic commands as kicking it. To maneuver one of these great creatures, you would be advised to use the reins that I note, with some disappointment, not one of you seemed to notice."
Sheepishly, the aspirants unclipped the reins from the harness.
"Now, if you actually have any intention of getting airborne, it's as simple as pulling back on the reins. Please, try not to fall off."
>! Seth pulled back on the reins. The response was sluggish. Almost reluctantly, the beast unfurled its wings, and with a sweep that sent a ripple of wind across the grass of the field, slowly began to leave the ground behind.
Slowly, the other aspirants followed suit.
"Now let us start with something simple. Simply fly around the summit once, and land back here. Who knows, we may even finish this before the night is over."
A little annoyed, Seth attempted to work the unfamiliar grip of the reins. For one used to control with the legs, it was a strange experience indeed.
>! The entire trip around the mountain felt slow, as though the Dragon didn’t feel like listening to his commands. Sometimes, it simply wouldn’t respond at all. Not only that, but the ride felt cumbersome. Wyverns could have somewhat jerky movement sometimes, but they were fast and nimble. Dragons, with all their mass, were unable to glide and their turning time was terrible. The result was over an hour of motion that was somewhat like a slow motion rodeo on a boat in rough water.  By the time they set back down on the field, Seth was hard pressed to find a single muscle that wasn’t sore.
"We’ve lost the light, so I suppose that will have to do for your first lesson. I expect to see you all back here tomorrow, and perhaps we can get a bit more done."
>! The next day, Seth met Tarm outside the stable.
"So, how were the dragons?" Seth smiled sheepishly and didn't say anything.
"Ah well, just a short patrol and then you can get back to the great lumbering beasts."
As they approached the stable keeper, Seth spoke up.
"Excuse me, but do you have the Wyvern I rode yesterday? If he's up to it, I'd like to take him out again today, if he isn't already being ridden."
At this, the stable keeper looked a little surprised.
"You want that bastard?" Seth was a little put off.
"Well, yes, if possible. He's fast, and fights well."  The keeper laughed openly about that.
"I'll say he does! Took a chunk out of one of the stable boys, and clawed up the wood right good. Take him out if you want, it's not like anyone else wants to ride him."
>! Moments later, Seth was approaching the stall the wyvern had been stabled in. Sure enough, there were claw marks and signs it had been thrashing about. It was sleeping now, fortunately. Quietly, Seth turned to the stable keeper once more.
"Where did he come from, anyway? Yesterday was the first time I ever saw him here."
"That's because he only got here yesterday. From one of those gladiator games. His owner... lost, and he got sold to us. His name is Talondeep."
Easing forward, Seth tried to figure out how to wake the sleeping beast. He'd never been good at this sort of thing.
"Talondeep, wake up!" The Wyvern rumbled in its sleep in response.
"Talondeep!" Louder this time. The creature brayed and put a wing over its head.
"TALONDEEP! WAKE UP!"
With a groggy bellow, the Wyvern hauled itself up. It looked a little out of sorts.
"He’ll be a titch out of it, we had to put him out with some tranquilizers last night. Wonder you could wake him at all, actually." Seth glared at the keeper, who backed off quietly.
"We're going to go flying, boy. Let's shake this sleep off."
With an unsteady gait, the Wyvern found its feet and followed Seth towards the door, snarling at the Stable keeper as he passed.
>! As soon as they hit the fresh air, the Wyvern improved noticeably. Shaking out its wings, it looked quite ready to be off the ground. Fortunately, Torm was waiting and ready.
"So we don't need to do the big round today. What with the scrap we got into yesterday, it seems they decided to go easy on us. So just to the Overhang and back."
Diving off the ledge, Seth felt the exhilaration of speed once more. The quick response as Talondeep's wings caught the air also had him, against his will, comparing the Wyvern to the Dragon he had ridden yesterday. The Dragon may have been a titan of muscle, but the Wyvern was fast, agile, and in this case, fought like a fury. The more he thought about it, the more he started to see what Torm saw in the beasts.
As these thoughts flittered through his head, they approached the odd hollow in the ground of the Overhang. Once a vast underground cavern, the center of the ceiling had collapsed. Since then, a small farming community had grown on the rich, deep soil. The area also made for a very good bunker, for the enormous stalactites were thick enough that they functioned as pillars, and stables had been built into the roof using them.
>! Gliding down, the two landed on the platform that reached halfway around the ceiling. As they were about to dismount, a faint rumbling was heard.
"What kind of luck do we have, anyway..."
Before the Wyverns had even had a proper chance to settle, a bellowing was heard from one of the many tunnels that connected the chamber of the Overhang to the labyrinthine world of tunnels beneath. Among cries of "It's back!" and "Run!", they struggled to see what the cause of the commotion was. It was Tarm who first spotted anything, and a hard cast came over his face.
"Deep wyrm. It's a Deep wyrm." He seemed to sense Seth looking at him questioningly.
"The Dragons we ride come from the peaks. They aren't the only breed though. There are ones that found refuge in the deep places of the world. They don't take kindly to intruders in their domain-"
"And the Overhang was built in what was once an underground chamber." Seth finished.
"Well, it's just a riderless Dragon, how much trouble could it be?"
It was at this point that the beast emerged from the tunnels.
>! Black as coal, it seemed some primordial creature of myth. Along any ridge, there were spines. Its horns were twisted almost like goat, though much longer. And it's eyes...
It's eyes were a dead white, the white of a creature that had never needed to ability to see. And sure enough, it made a line towards the settlement on the ground.
"GO!" Shouted Torm, as he dove off the platform, Seth moments behind.
The closer they got to the beast, the more dangerous it seemed. It lacked wings, but it had a long, bifurcated tail that ended in twin barbs, each several feet long and almost obscenely sharp. At the sound of their approach, it snapped it's head around to face them, and with an ear splitting roar attempted to fasten it's teeth on Seth.
Seeming to anticipate the attack, Seth was saved only by lying back in the saddle while Talondeep did a complete barrel roll, sailing inches under the monster's gaping jaw.
Sailing smoothly, until Talondeep dug it's claws in.
>! Latched onto the underside of its throat, the beast howled in pain and surprise. Lashing about, the motion threatened to fling Seth from the saddle. Shortly, with a wet ripping sound, Talondeep was flung clear, though he left deep gashes in the beast’s neck.
And somehow, the deep wyrm kept coming.
In a blind rage, the beast was lashing about with its tails while snapping at their heels. In a moment of panic, Seth realized that he couldn't see Torm. Had he been impaled on the cruel barbs of the monster's tail?
As he was wondering this, he noticed at almost the last second that the beast had located him. Attempting to snap him out of the air, Seth pulled back and climbed towards the chamber ceiling. It was then that he saw Torm, his Wyvern latched upside down onto one of the stalactites, like some giant bat. As he noticed him, The Wyvern released its grip and plummeted directly towards him. Passing over his head with only inches of clearance, Tarm impacted on the face of the deep worm like some errant meteor. Though the impact somehow failed to shatter the monster's neck, it now had an angry Wyvern attached to its face, clawing at its eyes and blinding its senses.
>! Without any input from Seth, Talondeep reacted with almost instinctive speed, arcing downwards and reattaching itself to where it had been ripping at the wyrm's neck. Within moments, the beast was collapsing towards the ground, it's neck and face a shredded mess. Out of breath, Torm and Seth landed on the ground.
"Well, let's get the Wyverns some water and head back to the aerie. I've had about enough fighting for the day, and I imagine you're about ready to take a crack at riding a dragon rather than killing them." Seth looked thoughtful for a moment, before laying a hand on Talondeep's neck and replying,
"I don't think I am going back for those lessons. After all, I've got a perfectly good mount right here. And I think I know what you mean-" Seth looked at the corpse of the hulking monstrosity they had just slain, "Dragons scare the crap out of me too."

[Thorn]

Bumping, because my workload has lightened and I can take stuff on.

[Thorn]

Bumping, since I have the time to do some game writing.

[Thorn]

Bumping, previous project complete and some of the college crunch has passed for the moment

[Ispan]

Ok,

Ill give you some ideas and what not.

Northern Europe, Trade Flourishing  between Towns and Villages, Bandits Lurking. Would be cool if you could take it from multiple peoples view, Like a Trader, Farmer and Blacksmith (I know i ask for alot)

Cheers,
Tipsta

[Jeff]

this still open?

[Thorn]

Bumping with the new forums, and looking for a project that needs a writer.

[Jeff]

me.  Click my sig, tell me if your interested at all.  I'd love to have an experienced writer on the team!  so far we have me(pixel artist, amateur writer, project leader) and a coder who wishes not to be named.  The coder's pretty good, made an animation system, but he's only a temp :S.  working on procuring Yukiyo as the permanent coder.