Noxus the tomb lord

Lol. So far I haven't found any bartering going on with it

Gravelord hunter wrote:Boom done, tell me what you guys think of it. Also to answer previous questions asked by Flaming Harlequin, he didn't seal himself away infact Gwyn sealed him away using the 4 boulders found inside the graveyard at firelink shrine, see if you can find them they have claw marks all up and down. Also as this last passage reveals he was tricked by a fellow giant who only seeked the weapons of the lords, see if you can figure out who that is (shouldn't be hard). Anyways please leave your comments and opinions and post your own bios so I can read them. Thanks for reading

Very nice! And sorry for my missunderstanding. I think i saw them befor but its a long time since i last played DarkSouls. I will have to put it on again today and check it out.
btw. It's Harlekin - quin is the girl version of it

Peace & Take Care Man! - FlamingHarlekin Out

Just a small suggestion Lord Hunter, with your works it helps out to not refer to something in one manner too often. I'm a bit tired, but I believe I counted the word Noxus ten or so times, at some point there are lines back to back that cannot go without the word Noxus residing in them. It is better I find to substitute names with information. "The Tomb Lord, The Gravelord, The Titan, The War Leader, etc." Recently I've been practising in refusing to name characters in my works to create a sort of challenge for myself and my readers. Just a little suggestion.

Tolvo wrote:Just a small suggestion Lord Hunter, with your works it helps out to not refer to something in one manner too often. I'm a bit tired, but I believe I counted the word Noxus ten or so times, at some point there are lines back to back that cannot go without the word Noxus residing in them. It is better I find to substitute names with information. "The Tomb Lord, The Gravelord, The Titan, The War Leader, etc." Recently I've been practising in refusing to name characters in my works to create a sort of challenge for myself and my readers. Just a little suggestion.

Thats one of the first lessons I was given as a writer. It helps to keep the reader interested and shows variation. I does get a little tiresome though worrying about how many Noxus's (Noxae? Noxai?) are going into each section of writing and how evenly spaces and not overused they are. I also will deliver another section on Siefer( even if nnobody cares simply because it is good practice for me to write about villains, I struggle with them).

Also If nobody noticed in the last Siefer installment I was trying to reference Leeroy as the cleric who found my bat **** insane friend Sief.

Davan shifted uncomfortably as a chill wind crept through the trees bringing, with it a stinging rain that somehow pierced the dark canopy above, trying to find some semblance of comfort on the harsh ground on which he had decided to camp.

The trek through the Darkroot Garden had beena calculated risk, one that had paid off for him in the end, though it wasn't as if the journey had been uneventful. The first night after setting off he had come close to being consumed by the viscious foliage, not only that but also assaulted by a band of armed men and women who moved swiftly through the trees like ghosts. They had caught him off guard for a momment and in a blind panic Davan fled from the path and deeper into the woods.

A descision he earnestly had regreted.

At night the Garden became a living hell. The trees swayed with a life of thier own, dark creatures stalked through the the half light cast by the luminescent mushrooms leaving only vague imprint of hulking bodies covered in sparse patches of greyish fur, and the wind screamed as it wove its way through the tangles of branches high above.

His eyes gazed longingly into the small fire he had tenderly nursed for hours. The fire itself brought him no small end of risk, as he could feel hundreds of eyes enviously eyeing the warm glow that suffused the air, but he was beyiond caring. The copse he had marked from camp had been discovered earlier that evening. He had carefully tucked a white prism stone into the roots of the thinkest tree so as to make it appear to be a small mushroom much like the others that grew deeper in the wood. There he had left his pack and belongings and began to scavenge what he could from the mutitude of corpses that littered the forest floor.

Hours later tired and dishevelled he returned to the camp, creeping quietly for he feared that he was being followed.

Oh how he regretted his arrogance! Darkroot had seemed like the opportunity of a life time to him. A grave of adventurers and heroes, a place where a pitiful merchant like him could search over the bodies and gather any thrinkets of value. While the idea had sounded brilliant in his mind there in the midst of the towering pines he could feel his sanity slipping away. The trees did things to his mind, as of the roots burrowed into his skull and fed him terrifying images of the dark things in the world.

The portly merchants had gently caressed the pack by his side. If he ever escaped the woods the items that he had already found would make him powerful beyond his wildest dreams. Blades, fragements of armour, a rustly helmet with a ratty plume of red, and a small black box etched faintly with swirling patterns and antiquated designs.

At first the box had seemed worthless to Davan but the more he looked at it the more he began to see value where there was none. All it contained was a gnawed upon soul, barely worth calling a soul in his opinion, though clearly his situation was having apronounced effect on his mindset. The soul itself was nothing special but it whispered to him of powers and greatness yet to be his. On a whim Davan had decided to keep it, tucking it deeply into the folds of his traveling clothes.

Sweat beaded his foreheand and the musky stench of his sweat mixed with the air which only served to heighten the sense of fear he felt in the pit of his stomach.

Again he found himself drawn to the small etched box, flipped the catch revealing the tiny sould nestled within. It gave off an unwholesome light unlike the pure white that most souls seemed to emanate.

You see Davan? and cold voice, faint, barely audible, came from the darkness.

The merchant tensed his eyes ferverently searching about the break in the wood for the source of the noise.

It's cold.... Bring the fire back.

Without stopping to question why Davan leapt up and began preparing a small fire pit, scooping hard earth away to make a small indentation, leaving his fingers bloody and raw from the effort. Then he began to cut small twigs from the surrounding trees which he then shaved with the sharp hunting knife he carried with him, stripping thr damp bark away in patches. He then emptied the contends of his tinder box over the pit, now lined with the twigs. A flare, the match lit so easily it surprised him, and heat began to warm his tired bones.

Much better? the whisper again. Really? I though it was nice and coo, before.... Shut it Imbecile. No! Whay should I? I can soeak as well as you so I'll speak when I feel like it.....

It was at this point Davan realised the voice came from the box in his palm. In an instant he cast it away, to the other side of the fire, where it rolled several times before coming to a halt.

"Leave me be" he cried out into the dark, only to be met by a hundred dreadful echoes which fouled his voice and cast ot back at him in a series of malignant reverbarations.

Davan? The voice called its tone sibilant.

Suddenly davn felt his limbs give way beneath him and he crashed to the ground beside the box, its fell light iluminating his face and making it look skeletal, pale skin stretch back over his cheekbones. The light bored into him. Through his eyes, his mouth, his skin.

You see? Its dreadfully boring being sane in a place like this.... Too right partner.... Silence Imbecile... Okey Dokey..... Isn't it merchant?

"Yes" the man whispered. He felt the hold over his limbs release and he struggled to his feet.

Then give in. Why stay here?.... Stay here.... Come with us all.... Come with us?.... Where are we going?... Quiet....

Even in the light of the fire, Davan felt something inside him die, a coldness swept over the glade, an unnatural stillness that permeated his whole world.

His eyes widened in fear.

In the light of the fure Shadows danced. Skeletal beings waltzed, struck at each other, tore at themselves all in some macabre scene that streched out before him.

Fear washed over him, then guilt, the fear again, his mind was a tumltuous sea of emotion all mixing together into a formless feeling which dominated his mind. It stole all reason from him, stole his desires, his memories, his very essence was slipping away.

Give it to me?.... Me? At least one of us..... We need it more than you... Sometimes? Not all the time..... Yes all the time? Then what???

The voices reached a cresendo in his mind. And then he was no more.

Siefer stood up wiping the dirt from his pants and glared around the wood. He strode over and picked up the ornate box, now empty, a smile appear on his thin face.

Home sweet home?.... Shut it Imbecile..... Hows this.

Siefer cringed as he felt his teeth sink into his fore arm. He spat chunk of flesh from his mouth, wiped the blood away, smiled again.

This would be fun.

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This is a rough draft and isn't even proof read will edit with better spelling and grammar later tomorow after work when I'm not dying of sleep deprivation.

Really long and really amazing, I like the feel of struggle the passage gives you. However I don't really understand who he's talking to whose voice is coming from the box?

Anyways well done, in the next few hours once I properly wake up I'm gonna write a lil prologue for you guys. Or just for my own enjoyment lol

Prologue... He rose from the ground as if rising from death, He had been here before although things seemed strange. It was clear time and space was irrelevant in this place, once known for its sun shine and beauty the anor londo he found himself in was quiet and dark. He could barely see anything however off in the distance he saw a man standing there, he couldn't make out the mans face, but he could tell the man had been waiting for him. As the shady image got closer he could smell a strong pungent smell, a mix of death and decaying corpses. He started to recognize the armour the figure was wearing, the breast plate he had often seen sported by Darkwraiths in the abyss undoubtably scavenged from the bodies of his enemies, his helmet resemble that of a jolly ally who had often assisted him in his travels and draping a white skirt which was the only clearly visible part in the darkness. As he stood next to the mysterious figure he quickly realized this was no ordinary man, he stood 7 feet tall and the sword he branded gave off a disheartening smell constructed from bones of the undead, this was no man this was a monster.

Suddenly the Titan ran forward his bloodcurdling sword slung over his shoulder, the invader quickly pulled out his shield expecting a full on attack. Even with the shield raised the monster did not hold back which each swing of the monsters sword the invader felt a shortness of breath. It was now or never the invader though, lowering his shield for a split second to try and match the titans strength. But to no avail, the sword moved so fast, suddenly the invader found himself on his knees, the enemies blade had cut him so deep. At this moment the invader worried for his existence, toxins flowed through his veins, he had been badly poisoned. He could no longer fight he was too weak, barely able to raise his shield in defence. The shadowy figured stood over the invaders weak frail body and with a deep voice which seemed to echo throughout the entire body of the invader he stated.

" I am the Tomb Lord and your soul is now mine"

Tears started to shed from the invaders eyes, he couldn't see his enemies eyes only the chilling breath which seeped through his helmet, the monster picked him up from the floor by his neck simultaneity crushing his wind pipe, his body turned cold as he felt all the powers and strength within his body quickly flow out empowering the monstrous Titan who just as quickly as he had struck him down threw him to floor turning away as the invaders sight slowly faded away, sure enough the Tomb Lord was awaiting it's next victim.

Ah yeah myassagebhad a whole heap more sections that I cut out to save to reading time. As mostt of the story was laid out in my head it makes more sense to me.

My Siefer is totally insane and has amalgamated many differnet consciousnesses into his own mind and as such had many sub personalities each of whom is crazier than the last hence why his Imbecile personality bites himself at the end trying to get back and Smart Siefer.

nice makes sense thats really cool what do you think of that prologue?

Gravelord hunter wrote:nice makes sense thats really cool what do you think of that prologue?

I like it vety much keep it coming. There are a few stylistic things that could be improved and some of the phrases feel a bit top heavy but appart from that I could feel the sense of dread Noxus inspires in his enemies. I also like how he is so massive. That would be truely terrifying to face in the world of DkS.

Ikr? imagine starring at a bad smelling big giant wielding a sword made of bones truly outrages truly truly outrages

Siefer would probably wet his pants. But thats okay its in his character. I always found the unnerving villains were those who looked so unbelievably unlikely and thought up bonechilling plots were the frail and overlooked bad guys who end up doing all the betraying.

Like Starscream always betrays Megatron but never gets anything out of it as his boss simply won't stay dead and seems to get stronger and stronger every time he dies.

Kind of like players in DkS.