View Full Version : Some old stuff, from me, for the new kids on the block

30-10-2005, 16:22
Like the title says, I've written some nice stuff in the past on Portent, and I think the newer members (and old members who missed them) would like to read them.

The first, written during SoC, inspired by SoC, at school. I'm not really sure I ever posted it here. It was unfinished, but I quickly closed the thing because I knew I'd never finish it:

Marcan walked past the heap of bodies being made ready for the after-battle feast-fire. He clutched his left arms, their mutations aching more than ever. The marauders nearby looked at him in awe, they had never seen anyone like him wounded like that, most of them had never even seen anyone of his magnitude. Marcan walked up to the top of the low hill, where the most powerful of the zars had gathered just to meet him. He turned around, looking at the battlefield. It looked peaceful, with copses of burnt trees dotting the arid sandy wastes. Marauders wandered around the small warp rifts, bowing in admiration, or hiding of fright everytime a jet of flames shot from them.This really meant something for them. In the past battle, they had fought like fanatics, trying to show off their fighting skills even more when he and his small band got near. "Who do they think I am anyway?" Flashed through his mind. "It's not as if I'm the great changer himself." He looked at a brave chieftain, who burnt himself on the flames while tried walking through the passage to the warp. Marcan amused himself when he empowered the flames so they consumed the poor marauder, sacrificing him to his master using the first trick he ever learnt. He smiled an invosible smile, and turned back to the hill, he had a promise to keep, he knew the question they would ask, as he did the answer, but he had to go there. When he reached the top, the zars stood up, and hurried to set places around the fire, to welcome Marcan, who was kinda bored by this. "Speak, zar Khulek, speak and, I will answer" Marcan spoke, with his heavy, echoing voice. The ring of zars was small, smaller than marcan would expect in such a large host of marauders. They were are bruised and blooded. They had fought a hard fight, and the thought came to Marcan that a lot of the zars had died in the battle. The knights had been a tough foe, he admitted, they had run through the marauders like a sharpened blade through fresh meat, killing them in their hundreds. But then the marauder cavalry had struck back, smashing the Brettonians back home. It ended in a big brawl in the middle of the field, until the southerners lost their nerve and fled, leaving only their bravest to duke it out one-on-one with the bravest of the zars. But eventually even they got their share, on the side of their godess. The strongest of the marauder chiefs began to speak, shaking in his dark robe, like a boy undergoing the ritual to manhood, as he adressed his superior: "M-my lord" He started "We now have fought for a full moon on end, and, our men are getting tired, we ask, n-no we..." He started to tremble even more "No, we demand that we take a rest!" he regained the vigour he showed on the battlefield earlier today "We demand that we get our share! They promised us enlightenment, and fame, and even mutation! but what do we get? Nought! Death and tiresome marches! We have faced armies at least once in three days, but no cities, no towns, not even a single farm to plunder! We have had enough! I demand a blessing now! And a rest for the entire army..." The chief's eyes widened, not even closing when his head reached the ground, his torso faling on top of it seconds later. The other marauders stared after Marcan as he walked back down. The message was clear; they would continue to fight, until none of them would be alive, or maybe there was a shimmer of hope that they would get to a point where there would be no more enemies to fight, and they would be blessed by the great Tchar. Marcan's cloak fluttered in the cold wind. His heavy armour creaked, the dust really getting in the joints.

The second, a funny story. It suddenly came to me after the desire to write about guardsmen:

The mission:
"Shhh be quiet!" The sarge snapped at the three guardsmen behind him. "this is NOT the moment to giggle!" They nodded. The four men continued through the snowy rockformations, walking carefully, trying not to make any alarming sound, or slip and fall ten feet down into the icy pools, or on sharp rocks.
"Sarge?" One of the men asked "What is it Jonah?" "Are you sure they are there now?" His breath was clearly visible, as it made small clouds in the cold midnight air. "Ofcourse! I have done this before you know, I'm a sergeant for the Emperors sake... Now let's go on!" And again, the men continued through the icy blue landscape. Crawling off the ledge, and silently sneaking around a corner, the four stormtroopers got near to their destination.
When they rounded the corner, the massive form of the monastary cast a shadow over them, blocking all three yellowish moons. "The east wing is where we need to go! There, on the other side of the building." They continued, but abruptly stopped after a few steps; "But, men, we need to be extremely careful! If they notice us, we'll be full of holes very soon!" The others nodded, and suddenly looked a bit bleaker... But they bravely walked on, careful not to get noticed, and pushing their bodie against the wall every time the searchlight passed them. When they reached the middle of the building, they could hear the singing of prayers from within the chapel. "Sarge," Jonah whispered "What now?" "Are you sure they aren't all in the chapel? "Ofcourse I'm sure. From what I've heard about them, only those that need something pray at this time, they'll be there, I can assure you that!"
Silently, the group sneaked the last few hundred feet, up to a big pile of rubble, that ended near some small windows. Light shone from them. The four stormtroopers climbed the hill, up to the windows. They laid down on the cold rocks, and looked through the windows "Are they hot or not?" The sergeant smiled to the three men brave enough to come with him. "Yes, indeed" Jonah said, grinning "It really was a good idea to sneak up to the Sister of battle monestarial sauna! By the way Jace, did you bring the beer?" "I never forget my beer!" Jace, one of the other storm troopers replied, producing four beers from his backpack.

And until dawn, they lay at the monestary's sauna, until they returned to their barracks with their digital camera, arriving just in time for breakfast...

The third was originally tailor-made for a portent member. He wrote a gamesystem and needed some art and stories, and asked here for them. This was my submission:

Marten looked up, shots were heard!
He jumped out of bed with his genetically enhanced limbs, grabbed his gun, and was thrown through the room by an explosion! 'Damn, there goes my helmet.' He thought. He jumped through the newly created opening in the building, and looked outside. He saw soldiers and militia firing volley after volley into the darkness. Marten saw rays of light as deadly answers.
Lights appeared! It came from the direction Marten and the other soldiers were firing. A big hull appeared from between the rocks and villas. It crushed a crying woman who ran out of her burning villa in her night dress. The soldier who tried to pull her away was shot by a ray of light spewing from the vehicle.
suddenly, marten heard the sound of a large amount of breaking stone and looked up. The building he still stood in was burning! And it was almost crashing down upon him! He ran forward sending bursts of bullets in the direction of the still unidentified vehicle. Rays of light still raining down upon the humans.
Then, a deafening hissing was heard from Marten's back, he was looking at the building. Marten looked in the direction of it, and saw the vehicle breaking open, his volley seemed to have cracked it! Blue light streamed from the cracks, and fire burst from the upper cracks. Finally the vehicle blasted open, and Marten was almost blown over. An alien appeared in the hole, like marten first did when leaving the barracks. Rays of light shooting from his hand held weapon.
Finally, the three story barracks succumbed, crushing some of the militia not smart enough to run away. More aliens appeared, and human reinforcements also arrived. Marten hid between the rubble of the barracks as the alien vehicle selfdestructed, giving line of sight to two more vehicles. Then, suddenly his munition ran out, and he looked round. By chance, he stood where the weapons room was, and he found some functioning rifles.
After a while soldiers hid at Marten's position. When more and more soldiers arrived to defend the peices of rubble they were standing on, Marten looked around carefully. Around the mound of rubble, he saw only strokes of light smashing into his position, bullets answering to this, and a shimmer of sunlight. Only few of the dark red uniforms could be seen outside of the barrack ruins, most of them were of dead humans. When most soldiers had reported that there was no more ammunition, Marten stood up and shouted to the soldiers: "Men, we have no ammunition, but we haven't been given bayonets for nothing" Everybody listened, and Marten was glad when they followed him when he ran towards the aliens, firing his last volley, shouting: "For the conquering sun!!!!"

The glade wanderer

30-10-2005, 16:29
Because I'm scared of character limits, there's more in next posts!

Fourth. Just because I like duels:

Inquisitor Anderwell looked down the large hall. She never expected such luxury so deep down a hive city. The walls on one side, the closest one, were filled with elaborate mirrors. Most were empty, but some had shadows that danced around in them. Despite her experience, it spooked her a bit. She gestured her retinue to stay behind, activating her power-glove in the process. She slowly walked forward.
Suddenly, she saw herself in a mirror, but without her bandages. The bandages that covered every inch of her body. She saw the burnt skin, the ruin that was her face, not a single square milimeter that wasn't singed and scorched. No, she would never worry about that anymore. The fiery portal at the end of the hall looked welcoming despite what she knew lay behind it. Fire hurt her no more, and with a slightly steadier pace, she closed in, through the plain black half of the hall.
Her staff caused a loud bang every time it hit the ground. Definitely a simple stone floor. One time she touched the golden mask covering her face. She really did look like a mummy. Under the armour plates and bandages, she smiled, as she stepped through the flames, entering, where? She did not really know.
There it stood. It was truly no longer human. It spoke "Finally you have arrived human. Killed my servants, " Images flashed by, of the heretics scorched in the pyres above, the cultists shot by the adepta sororitas. "...but I don't need them anymore. Your death will be the last sacrifice needed to meet my god!"
The inquisitor held her staff as a sword as it charged. It impaled the creature. It looked semi-human, a hideous dragonhead with quite too much horns on it's shoulders. A heavily muscled body, both beautiful and disgusting, two thin pointy tails sprouting from the rear, and black-blueish claws, coloring brightly on the pale body. It pulled the staff out, melting it in deamon-fire. She wasn't prepared for this, she remembered. She belonged to the wrong ordo for this. But this was it, she was there, and she had to finish it. She held her claw out, while he showed off his.
They clashed! Claw met claw, and hand fended off the other. She jumped aside, claws grappling after her tattered cape. Fire around her. This was a deamon who enjoyed fire, unlike his troops. Clinging to a web above her, the fire raging around her, she could see nothing. She felt this web. What would a subdimension need with additions like this. Admittedly, she always destroyed them before anyon could enter it, but it felt strange. The web moved. The deamon must've came after her. She knew where he was. "Hahah! You thought of ruining my sight?" She didn't need sight. her bionic eye took over, but it crashed right there and then. "Damnit! Damn all those machine spirits right down to the martian hell!" "Hahah!" It laughed back "You cannot escape, little inquisitor!" She did see the daemon prince, and the hook on her power weapon glowed more brightly than it ever could normally. The flames disappeared. They hung in a vacuum, the web was gone. The palm of her hand crackled, and the mummy shaped human flew passed the daemon. The daemon screamed in agony, and lightning hit it. Souls teared at it, burning it as they clawed at his muscled body.
Once more did it strike! A sword of fire clashing against the soul-forged blade of Jinn Anderwell. Her one remaining eye shed a tear that burnt her scorched face. The souls that had to be taken for this deamon, and the siouls taken for his demise. So much bloodshed, so much eternal horrors, for a soul can never be truly destroyed, and these souls would forever be hurt in places not in this universe. So much, and it all came down to nothing. Nothing was accomplished, and if anything it only got worse.
Strike, defend! Duck, thrust, evade! Slash! It was over. It took mere moments. Not even a minute passed as the two played a swordfight. Blades touched, and eventually the inquisitor won. She ran out as the subdimension collapsed. Such a fool, she thought. He even linked the subdimension to his own mind. She came ot of the hall, into the darkness of the dump town square. The hall collapsed too, as the last power that held it upright gave way.
She was too late today. She allowed the magister to become posessed by a daemon. She failed, despite winning. She destroyed the cults on this planet, she stopped the magister before he could contact his god, and other planets. But still, she had to act faster in the future. She had her servo skull record these things, and went back to her ship, to rest, tidying her cape and bandages as she ordered the pickup.

The fifth, another IG related blurb. I'm just bad at fantasy writing. This one was written because I liked the style and wated to try myself:

...Incoming message: Code=456ZZA23...


...Loading message... Please wait...

...Message from: Alpha station, planet Tian IV...

February 14:
Planetary sensors sense ships, coming at unknown speeds. Are these human? We hope so, as the empire has not sought contact for generations.

February 16:
The ships have been near the sattelites orbiting the moon. Shortly after contact with the sattalites was lost. Attempts at contacting the ships have failed.

February 17:
Preparations are being made to welcome the ship. The captain of the guard is not sure wether these ships ar friendly. Planet orbiting sattelites are malfunctioning.

February 18:
The ships are entering orbit, the welcoming comittee is rushing to give a warm welcome. The captain is worried, he sets up guardsmen at the entrance.

February 19: (1)
Dropships are coming down. This looks wonderful. The new imperial ships look fantastic, with animal like forms... The hatch opens... Five bolts shot from the ship! More info later!

February 19: (2)
The new arrivals are hostile. Their weaponry is stronger than anything we have. The guard captain was right. Most of the guards have died in the initial assault. Gladiator like warriors have set themselves to slaughtering the civilians.

February 20:
This will be my last message. The city is in ruins, the rest of the planet will fall soon. I have seen the fallen body of an enemy. They are not human! They are assaulting the bui


...End of message...

Code=456ZZA23 Close...

Lastly, a song. On the tune of jingle bells. Made long ago, when I wasn't even sure if I'd take a second army (now got four, and some stuff for specialists games)

Jingle skulls, jingle skulls jingle all the way!
O what fine it is to murder, plunder, kill and slay!

Weapons and armour ring,
houses burning bright,
O what fine to kill and sing,
a slaying song tonight!

Jingle skulls, jingle skulls jingle all the way!
O what fine it is to murder, plunder, kill and slay!

The glade wanderer