Policy and Fiction Post 2/26/09 Part 2
In the future, if I write a blurb that isn't finished by the end of the day, I won't post an unfinished piece just to hit 1000 words for the day. As a result, you might not see 1000 words posted on LJ each day, but may instead find a few smaller stories one day - and then a single large one another day. This should give me some flexibility that I enjoy having, rather than trying to write strict lengths and stifling myself. We'll see how that goes.
That being said, this piece may be the start of a collaborative effort with a friend of mine from Dae Luin. Critiques would be appreciated, however in-depth you'd care to go.
The two walked down the cobblestone street, lone wolves stalking for a quarry that only they knew. The crisp autumn air blew leaf-filled gusts of air through the boulevards and avenues. The broad streets were lit by ghostly reflections from the manors of Paris, lantern lights shone a dirty red glow from the top of each lamp posts, and the moon hung heavy and full from the sky.
“Thrice lit and yet shrouded in shade,” whispered one with a grin. His hair was raven black, contrasted by his ice blue eyes. Tall for a man, he made due with a fashionable suit in blacks and whites. At his hip was a simple saber, unadorned save for a small ruby set into the pommel. His hand held a small fob watch, which he stared at - paying no attention to the streets through which they walked.
“Naught but us two, my friend,” countered the other. “For the masses see not the shade for the night.”
“Fools, the lot of them.”
“Indeed,” replied the other. Taller even than his companion, he looked off to the distance. His hawkish features seemed sharp in comparison with his soft gray eyes. “Volucer, I believe that we may have found it.”
The darker-haired of the two smiled and followed the taller's glance up towards a mansion in the distance. From within, an eerie purple light flickered like lightning. Guards stood outside, nonchalantly holding their swords, but every few seconds, one or the other peered over their shoulders at the house.
“That was easier than I'd have thought. Interesting change, for once.”
“Don't complain,” fired back the gray-eyed. He clenched his hand around the cane in his left hand, gripping it tighter than he needed to. He let out a deep breath and steadied himself. “Just follow my lead and we'll be just fine.”
“If you say so, Sadrach.”
The two approached the guards as if they hadn't noticed the violet and black light show in the house. Feigning interest in a very animated discussion, they didn't halt until one of the guards stepped forward and held up a hand for them to stop .
“I'm sorry, good sirs,” he said in a gruff tone, allowing no argument. “This here manor's not open to the publ-”
The guard's voice was cut off as Sadrach drew a sword from within the cane - a shining silver weapon with a single wicked edge. He brought it up and struck the guard across the neck, sending the man's life flowing across the night air in a fine stream. The man hissed at his companion, “Volucer, the other! Silence him!”
The other guard reacted quickly, reaching for the door bell, no doubt to ring it and alert the household to the siege. He was inches away when Volucer's cavalry saber came crashing down on his wrist, splintering bone with the crushing force. The guard doubled over and the well-dressed assailant brought his knee up to meet the bridge of his nose. He was unconscious before he struck the ground. Volucer looked to his companion. “Well? The door?”
“Working on it,” replied Sadrach as he knelt down before the lock and blew on it gently. Volucer thought that he saw a small blue-green flicker of light, and a second later, the doorway swung inward. Sadrach nodded. “You first. Remove the sorcerer if you can, or the circle if you can't. I'll defend your egress.”
Volucer smiled, his face splattered with blood and chips of bone as white as his teeth. “Just like old times, eh?”
Sadrach shook his head. “No time for nostalgia right now, friend. Let's go.”
That being said, this piece may be the start of a collaborative effort with a friend of mine from Dae Luin. Critiques would be appreciated, however in-depth you'd care to go.
The two walked down the cobblestone street, lone wolves stalking for a quarry that only they knew. The crisp autumn air blew leaf-filled gusts of air through the boulevards and avenues. The broad streets were lit by ghostly reflections from the manors of Paris, lantern lights shone a dirty red glow from the top of each lamp posts, and the moon hung heavy and full from the sky.
“Thrice lit and yet shrouded in shade,” whispered one with a grin. His hair was raven black, contrasted by his ice blue eyes. Tall for a man, he made due with a fashionable suit in blacks and whites. At his hip was a simple saber, unadorned save for a small ruby set into the pommel. His hand held a small fob watch, which he stared at - paying no attention to the streets through which they walked.
“Naught but us two, my friend,” countered the other. “For the masses see not the shade for the night.”
“Fools, the lot of them.”
“Indeed,” replied the other. Taller even than his companion, he looked off to the distance. His hawkish features seemed sharp in comparison with his soft gray eyes. “Volucer, I believe that we may have found it.”
The darker-haired of the two smiled and followed the taller's glance up towards a mansion in the distance. From within, an eerie purple light flickered like lightning. Guards stood outside, nonchalantly holding their swords, but every few seconds, one or the other peered over their shoulders at the house.
“That was easier than I'd have thought. Interesting change, for once.”
“Don't complain,” fired back the gray-eyed. He clenched his hand around the cane in his left hand, gripping it tighter than he needed to. He let out a deep breath and steadied himself. “Just follow my lead and we'll be just fine.”
“If you say so, Sadrach.”
The two approached the guards as if they hadn't noticed the violet and black light show in the house. Feigning interest in a very animated discussion, they didn't halt until one of the guards stepped forward and held up a hand for them to stop .
“I'm sorry, good sirs,” he said in a gruff tone, allowing no argument. “This here manor's not open to the publ-”
The guard's voice was cut off as Sadrach drew a sword from within the cane - a shining silver weapon with a single wicked edge. He brought it up and struck the guard across the neck, sending the man's life flowing across the night air in a fine stream. The man hissed at his companion, “Volucer, the other! Silence him!”
The other guard reacted quickly, reaching for the door bell, no doubt to ring it and alert the household to the siege. He was inches away when Volucer's cavalry saber came crashing down on his wrist, splintering bone with the crushing force. The guard doubled over and the well-dressed assailant brought his knee up to meet the bridge of his nose. He was unconscious before he struck the ground. Volucer looked to his companion. “Well? The door?”
“Working on it,” replied Sadrach as he knelt down before the lock and blew on it gently. Volucer thought that he saw a small blue-green flicker of light, and a second later, the doorway swung inward. Sadrach nodded. “You first. Remove the sorcerer if you can, or the circle if you can't. I'll defend your egress.”
Volucer smiled, his face splattered with blood and chips of bone as white as his teeth. “Just like old times, eh?”
Sadrach shook his head. “No time for nostalgia right now, friend. Let's go.”