Final Fantasy/8-Bit Theatre Fanstories

[Seran]

It did not seem right without this thread. We've all noticed that certain thread so named "8-bit fanfics", right? Well, that is merely a thread created for the purposes of allowing those certain image scripts that drives everyone mad.

:fighter: Dude! Remember that one time --
:bmage: Less talking, more stabbing.

Yes, Clevinger and the others really despise them beyond all loathing. But it seemed improper to me to have a thread allowing those in, when -- it being named 8-Bit Fanfics -- makes it sound as though actual written stories would be allowed as well in the same thread. But clearly, they don't match, despite whom posts them and in what pattern they are posted.

Yes. Fanstories, or fanfictions, based off of Final Fantasy or 8-Bit Theatre can go here!

For what reason you'd type one up?

Well. We all want to occupy our time, aren't I right?

And just to start us off...

+++
The Horrors of Black Mage, Part One
“Come on, you can do better than that! Pull!”
He cursed the day his idiot comrade had fallen to Thief’s trickery, hating how Thief pushed them around so often, hating how stupid Fighter was, and hating how worthless Red Mage had been.
“Puuuu-uuuul!” Thief sang loudly, watching them from a distance as he sat beneath a great oak tree, its green leaves shading him from the bright sun. “Keep going, you’re almost there! Black Mage, put some spine into that why don’tcha!”
“Shut up!” Black Mage hollered back rudely, refraining the urge to add ‘mutha fugga’ to Thief. His hat hid his unseen face from the world as the sun tried to shine some light into his face, his short body struggling to keep up with the other two as they relentlessly tugged and pulled on the ropes. Black Mage would have done something about it, if it were not for the fact he had already wasted his Hadoken, his daggers had gone missing, and Thief had basically tied the ropes quite tightly around their waists. Fighter didn’t have his swords to cut them off, and Red Mage refused to become less versatile to something so ‘minor’. He could hear Fighter groan as he heaved his weight back, gritting his head, his crown and armor shining in the sunlight. Red Mage was not as strong, so he had gone to the point of basically jumping towards the direction they had to pull the massive, flat boulder, to apply more brief force in the pulling and not using a smooth, continuous, and weak motion to try dragging the boulder along as fighter did. Black Mage was barely applying any effort at all, pretending to pull, but Thief had caught him slacking off. That lazy bastard, he thought to himself. I’m going to kill him one day if it’s the last thing I do.
“I – I can’t go on!” Red Mage yelled over their pain and agony of pulling the oversized rock in the burning heat. He collapsed, his knees weak, falling onto his face as he raised a hand with little strength left. “Go on without me!” he cried out through the grass and dirt. “I won’t make it! Move on, my comrades, and let me die, for it shall not be in vain! Do not grieve for – “
Thief leaned over, squinting down at the collapsing mage. “You’re not going insane again, are you!” Thief yelled out down to him, keeping himself away from the sun. “Like that time you were yelling about barracks?”
“The barracks were doomed long ago!” Red Mage mourned, lifting both of his arms. “They have fallen to the legions of hell and despair! God save us all!”
Thief massaged his forehead with his fingers impatiently, but leaned back nonetheless against the tree trunk. “Fighter! Knock some sense into him.”
“How!”
“However you can!”
Fighter stopped pulling and stared down blankly at Red Mage’s pale face, blinking as his red hair fell forward with his motion, without a wind to guide his draggled cape and to brush his hair. Black Mage immediately found him straining to pull the boulder all by his lone self. Soon after, nonetheless, he simply surrendered to fatigue and fell on his stomach. Fighter looked at him too, just staring, while trying to figure out how to get energy back into Red Mage. His lightly tapped on the top of his comrade’s skull with his white boot, scratched his head, and did it again. Thief was scratching his head at this insolence he had to deal with. Black Mage clawed at the ground angrily, his fingers tightening on the dirt, his gloves stained with soil and his yellow eyes narrowed with pouring anger. He started to tremble, wanting the rope off his waist immediately.
“Must…not…go into savage rage,” he growled through gritted teeth. “Must remain calm. Must not use every ounce of strength into bludgeoning Thief to death with the stick sitting very close to me.” Black Mage spared a glance to the stick, which was actually a twig, and shut his eyes imagining what it would be like. He saw a pathetic version of himself trying bring unbearable harm upon an elf with a puny little twig. Black Mage groaned, despising himself for getting such an idiotic idea.
Fighter heard every word and glanced over at the twig. He immediately attempted at reaching it, but as he took a mere four steps towards the stick, the rope pulled him back and he soon found himself leaning forward, arms reaching out desperately to the stick while the rope held him back. Fighter sat down, contemplating, trying to find a way to reach the desired twig while Black Mage mocked him.
“What do you think you’re doing?” the mage spat at the warrior.
“I’m trying to figure out how I can reach the stick over there. I think I can use it to wake RM up,” Fighter replied, his hand around his chin in thought.
“I’m going to kill you in your sleep if you keep it up.”
“Pshaw. ‘Twould not work anyway, oh silly mage of the dark arts of destruction!”
“I hate it when you talk like that!”
“Less talky talky, more wakey pully!”
+++

[Edit] Do you honestly think I'm doing another back-to-back story-sections posting session?

[Edit2] Before this, I had created a different fanfiction. If anyone is interested, then just take a look, unless you've already read it. http://forum.nuklearpower.com/showthread.php?t=13202

[Skit]

Very cool, dude. I suppose this is Black Mage's nightmare? That Thief takes over everything he ever dreamt of?

Thief sure is a bastard in your stories. ^_^

[Saria]

Black Mage's nightmare, indeed if that's what it is. *grins* You are good at writing.

[Seran]

The nightmare starts after Black Mage falls asleep. Just to tell you.

Heh, I could write about a Thief that's not a jerk.

I didn't want to do this, but I don't like waiting to complete storytelling...

+++
Part Two
“Now how can we push it over?”
Thief crossed his arms, staring down at the white river rushing past, carrying along a violent wind that blew Thief’s blue hair into his eyes and mouth. He pushed them away, yet they only blew back again. Turning around, Thief focused his eyes on Fighter, who had not yet run out of stamina; Red Mage, who had finally recovered after thirty minutes of unconsciousness and Fighter trying to get the twig from before; and Black Mage, who was sitting on the grass, his legs contracted, hands in lap, and head bowed. Fighter, sitting on his rump, looked over to the crescent figure on Black Mage’s hat, blinked at it curiously, and reached out to pull it off. He really wanted to pull it off. He truly did, he truly did want to pull it off his friend’s hat and look at it. Black Mage failed to notice when Fighter reached out with his one hand, gripped the figure, and immediately flung himself back, trying to pull Black Mage’s crescent object off. He figured that the hat was literally glued to Black Mage’s head, so he thought he could yank the crescent figure off. His assumption was proven as Black Mage acted promptly, his hands shooting up to grab the edges of his hat as Fighter failed to pull the item off his hat. Indignant, he spun his hat on his head, patted it, and glared at the warrior.
“What the hell was that for!”
Fighter grinned and giggled, falling over onto his back while he tried to control his laughter. Black Mage wanted to crawl over and slap him on the head. Instead, Thief grabbed him by the back of his blue collar, lifted him onto his feet, and knocked on the edge of his hat. This nearly flung Black Mage’s hat off, and he whirled around, glaring.
“Stop whining, would you? I don’t think you guys want to push the boulder into the river so that we can block the flow and at the same time allow us to cross while cutting off precious water supply from that nearby town, which we could trick into paying us to remove a large and hard-to-remove rock that we had pushed into the river’s current in the first place.” Black Mage started, his fingers clutching his hat’s edges hard.
“What!” he exclaimed anxiously. “That was your plan all along? That? Oh, you are such a dead elf when I pull free from these ropes…I can’t believe you made me waste all my magic power and energy…”
Fighter sat up and flung his arms out to Thief. “Hug!”
“No hugs. Go to sleep.”
“Aw, but no one ever hugs me…”
“Then hug BM or RM, just as long as I’m not watching. Now if you don’t mind, I’m going to be sleeping in that tent over there.”
The three, other than Thief, cast their gazes toward a tent that never should have been there. Black Mage stared at Thief with a bewildered glow in his yellow eyes.
“But you…but I…but we…and he…”
“Good night,” Thief dismissed casually, flicking his wrist and turning around to retreat to his tent. Red Mage noticed that they were still tied to the boulder, and that there was no additional tent for them.
“What about us?” he asked loudly.
“You’ll be fine!”
The three watched the elf push open the entrance to the tent, walk in, then let the flap fall behind him, and pulled down the zipper to close it, separating him from them. Black Mage raised his arms, ready to protest, but he lowered them, glanced at the ground, and immediately lost the words he had wished to holler out. Red Mage briefly looked towards him, neither curious nor concerned, his hat tilting off his white head. Fighter only offered a wide, careless yawn.
“Well, good night!” he said cheerfully, and flopped over onto his side, his cape wrapping around his body. Red Mage turned his head to and fro for a minute, yet he too decided to simply fall asleep as Fighter did. Black Mage glanced between the two, indignant that they were not at all troubled by Thief’s new level of cruelty, yet relieved they were not going to talk. He got onto his knees and hands, then slowly crawled away from them, and his rope followed his waist with his cloak trailing on the ground behind him. He stared down at the dry, dirty ground, disturbed by the river’s noise, before he finally decided to settle on the spot and withdrew his legs to his stomach.
“Stupid Thief,” he muttered to himself.

“ – and the gil you earn must be – “
The mage awoke with a groan, his eyes slowly pulling themselves open as his body shifted in the pile of green leaves that had fallen onto and around him. He feebly rocked back and forth, thinking he had awoken from a dreamless slumber. Black Mage could hear the voice of Thief spinning through the air and hacking through his hat, his skull, into his brain like an axe thrown by a barbarian. He did not hear the river from before he had fallen asleep. He did not feel the shadow of the boulder falling on him, and nor did he feel the presences of Red Mage or Fighter nearby. Raising his head weakly, he squinted in the burning sunlight, too tired to hiss at its brightness. Black Mage remained still for a long moment, listening only to the voice of Thief, who was nowhere to be seen. The trees around him seemed most unfamiliar, as though someone had moved them into different positions, and had painted green moss onto the bark.
“ – so help us, order of Hell, and we can overthrow the kingdoms of Man!”
“Hell?” Black Mage managed to mumble to himself, and as he suddenly recognized the word, he flung himself onto his rump. “What? What’s Thief blubbering about?” He pushed himself onto his feet, wobbling pathetically on his legs, and tried to wander towards Thief’s voice. A great hill rose over him, which he had not seen before, with the sun floating behind him. A butterfly lazily wandered past, and when Black Mage bothered to look at it, he saw it was plainly in flames. His eye squinted with confusion and wonder at the strange phenomenon, watching the flaming butterfly attempt to reach the horizon, trying to register the fact it was actually on fire.
“Our first target will be the Empire of the Shining Blade…”
“What?” Black Mage repeated, even more stunned at such a ridiculous name. It sounded as though Fighter had named an empire or something.
“Then we, victorious or not, proceed to the +Infinite God’s Cavern…”
That, right there, had Red Mage written all over it.
“…And we slaughter every single dwarf. What do you say, my damned elven brethren of Hell!”
Indistinguishable roars erupted from beyond the hill, and Black Mage was quick to scamper up it. He was flustered and was dreading some sort of horrific truth he dared not to think about. But Black Mage thought it impossible…there was in no way Thief could have possibly –
“The bastard!” he exclaimed quietly to himself as he glared down at legions of monsters from hell. The mage just wanted to scream and deliver one great Hadoken at the entire lot, but his gaze swept over the sea of creatures, trying to spot Thief among them. It was marvelous, yet infuriating, to see such a great gathering of monsters covering a giant field of withering grass, a requiem of roars and growls tolling in the air. The sun was so bright, yet he could plainly see thousands of bodies in flame, rock, and bone. He was unable to distinguish a single thing from the army. Black Mage continued his search for Thief, knowing it would have been suicide to just run in and yell out for the elf. “It’s impossible…there is no possible living way that stupid king of morons could have…I mean, I have the potential to, but…he…” Ceasing to mumble to himself, Black Mage could only handle his rage by trembling with fury and tightening his hands into fists. He suddenly wanted only one thing in the entire world for that moment of time; revenge.
A dark red horse with a mane of emerald flames galloped along, trampling Black Mage with such power, he could have sworn his spine had nearly snapped and his limbs had cracked in half. Its black hooves pounded against the ground, leaving a trail of fire in its wake, which also set Black Mage ablaze and he lifted his head, noticing a familiar figure mounted on the stallion’s saddled back. When he looked upon blue hair and tan skin, he forgot the fact that he was under excruciating pain due to the green embers burning his skin away and his body rendered immobile by the horse’s weight and legs. That was Thief right there, right there on top of that horse, ignoring him and merrily running away to an army of evil that rightfully belonged to him, Black Mage! With all his strength, he started to mutter under his breath, forcing out every little syllable.
“Ha…”
Thief and the stallion rode down towards the monsters.
“Do…”

[PCD]

I will hug you, Fighter. I will hug you whenever you want.

D'aww, Thief's taken over Hell, and is going after the kingdoms of his 'comerades'... He's so cute! I think that your writing is pretty good, but I must admit that some of the wording at points can be a bit awkward.
FYI, that is one badass cliffhanger.

[Seran]

Yeah, I've always thought the wording could get weird at times. But over time, I got used to them and stopped noticing...

+++
Part Three
The voices of the creatures arose with his approaching, echoing through skulls of the slain, helmets of steel, fangs of behemoths, and throats of beasts. Power surged through Black Mage’s arm as blue crackled around his sleeves, and he pressed his head against the hot ground, quaking from fury and agony, raising his hands that burned in their own blue fire.
“Kennnn!”
A massive beam of blue and white punched its way through the air, casting an ominous light upon the monsters below, and Black Mage shut his eyes against the force of the spell, unable to see Thief glancing over his shoulder and climbing onto his knees. The light engulfed him and much of the army below, more smoke joining the polluted atmosphere as the Hadoken left a great trail of red flames, cleared a path through screaming monsters, and overcame the area as sparks flew from the river of concentrated destruction, fueled by love stolen from the universe. Eventually, the power of the Hadoken literally pushed Black Mage off the hill, sending him off as it was redirected at the sky, the ground, the sky, the trees, and everything else that he could not see. The spell finally diminished, leaving Black Mage to spin through the air like a doll tossed aside, and to land on his stomach with a painful thud. He had landed on the side of the hill, so he rolled down from the inertia of his fall, not having directly plummeted from above to the ground in a straight direction. Black Mage rolled down the hill, grunting and yelling with every stab of pain that was forced onto him. Finally, he stopped a few inches away from the base of the hill, with a loud groan that obviously said, “I hate you all with an endless tide of loathing that will never wash away from the shores of hellish rage.” One thing did manage to cheer him up nonetheless.
Thief was dead.
Lifting his head weakly, he blinked at the black sky, and rain started to pour down from above. A claw of lightning slashed across the sky as the water drenched his clothing and his burns. Seconds later, thunder crashed through the sky loudly, making the mage tremble with it. He reached out at the wet grass, grabbing onto a few strands and pulling himself to them, in a poor attempt to move away from the scene of death. He did not know that Thief was peering over the top of the hill down at him.
“Just as I thought,” he muttered to himself, with his minions joining him with their own gazes. “Wonder whose side he’s on.” When the Hadoken had been cast, Thief took the opportunity to push himself onto his foot and knee, then kick off his infernal stallion’s back to leap over the blast, therefore landing in a safe range while a great portion of his army was destroyed – including his horse, of course. Normally, Thief would have simply gripped time for a moment, freeze all motion, and walk away, but his instincts had gotten the best of him at that time. Turning his head, his blue hair shining with rain, he nodded to the monsters by his sides and disappeared from the top of the hill.
“I’m gonna find this empire,” Black Mage muttered to himself, “and see what that idiot of a fighter is doing.”

Everything around him was dark. He felt that he was dying slowly but without the pain, for it had subsided long ago. The night somehow rushed to him in a split second, when he had closed his eyes, and when he opened them again, the moon and stars were suddenly there. Black Mage laid in the grass, lost and exasperated. No one was there to lend a helping hand, even less white magic to heal him. He shivered in the cold, burying his face in the ground, but soon he lifted it to see snow on the ground, snow out of nowhere. Confused, he pushed himself onto his back, and landed in the snow. The snow was soft but freezing. Black Mage shuddered even more wildly, confused and helpless. He had not been able to feel his legs the entire time. Closing his eyes, unprotected against the serene bitterness of the air, he felt small clouds trail out with every breath he released, though it did little to warm him. He wrapped his arms around himself, curled up to try at giving himself warmth, and controlled the uneven rate of his breathing. No one was there to help him. No one…no one wanted to be there for the Black Mage. Unable to stand the cold, he lifted a hand and cast a fire upon the air, where it remained hovering. Calmed by the fire, he kept his eyes closed, wrapped his arms around himself, and felt himself drift away. He felt that minutes passed on in silence, except for the soft murmuring of the flame, his body sinking in the snow as flakes started to descend from above, the night quiet and peaceful. He had never felt so tranquil. The mage was all alone, without some annoying moron to annoy him, and without some beautiful woman to fire up his sexual desires. He simply laid there in peace. While Black Mage drifted away into slumber, he heard voices from a distance, a man shouting about something he could not hear, his voice echoing down the field. Perhaps someone saw the flame. Perhaps the glow attracted their attention. Maybe he wasn’t going to have peace after all…maybe he’ll be healed, and everything will be nothing but trouble again…
Footsteps in the snow were running towards him. But they sounded less like footsteps and more like galloping hooves. He couldn’t move, and so, he couldn’t see. He felt a tall figure loom over him, felt his fire put out by a soft wind, and felt his body being lifted by a strong hand. He fought against his fatigue to open his eyes, and as he was lifted onto the lap of someone, he noticed the dark figure of someone vaguely familiar. He raised an arm, feeling the back of a horse’s neck, his hand flattening its mane. His eyesight faded away just as he heard a familiar voice that he could not register.
“Don’t worry, pal. I’ll get you back to th…stle…hang on…”

[Mondt]

Meh. You and your cliffhangers.

I think either someone that hasn't been introduced into any story said it, or RM. Doesn't seems Fighter-ish and I don't think Thief would call him pal after he jsut tried to kill him.

[Seran]

That was not Thief, and of course it doesn't seem Fighter-ish! What is this, reality?

...That...that just sounded too awkward for my taste.

+++
Part Four
Black Mage awoke, and yet it was still the middle of the night. His eyes snapped open as he felt a cure spell being tossed upon him, and he stared at a white ceiling for a long moment, not responding in any way as a conspiracy immediately formed in his mind. Someone took him there so that he would become their slave and be thrown into the dungeon five times a day without him having any good food or water and they stripped him of his magely powers so that he would not be able to rebel! Lord, did he like to rant.
“Are you okay?”
Immediately, he turned his head at the girl’s voice, and his gaze was met with the eyes of White Mage. Black Mage sat up abruptly, but his forehead connected with a metal pole that was held over the bed, and he let out a yell before falling back into the bed. White Mage had been holding the silver pole, for she was simply keeping it until someone returned, and she immediately dropped it on the floor as Black Mage received a bruise.
“Oh, I’m so sorry! I didn’t – I didn’t see that coming!”
“Yeah, yeah, sure…it’s okay, I’m fine…”
He sat up once more, rubbing his forehead and pushing his hat a bit, when someone with a long wooden plank mounted across his shoulders walked past. The plank smacked Black Mage in the back of the head.
“Ow.”
“Oop. Sorry, guest!” was the strong apology.
The mage leered as the bulky man walked away, watching a sleeveless figure with muscular arms walk away from him. He glanced back to White Mage, who was kneeling by the bed, her eyes full of worry.
“Well, hello!”
“Don’t even bother, you’re too late.”
“Say what?”
Black Mage quickly turned his head as he noticed another figure approaching. It was tall with a friendly but pale expression, with a cheerful gaze that struck dread into him every time. A white brown wrapped around his forehead, with a bush of messy, red hair sprouting out from every spot on his head, bearing a white cuirass, a red cape, white boots, white shoulder guards, and red beneath it all. Fighter had just come to check on the progress of his best friend. The warrior knelt down by White Mage just as she stood up, smiling down at him. Fighter nodded to her with a smile of his own, and she turned to leave them. Black Mage glanced around at his surroundings. There were marble walls of brilliant white, a grey tiled floor with different shades of grey, and the ceiling was domed, with a window at the top, showing a beautiful black frame that looked like vines stretching across the glass. Despite the marble walls, the room had a soft light and didn’t burn Black Mage’s eyes.
“What’re you doing here?” Black Mage asked Fighter quietly, too weak to be demanding.
“Are you kidding? I practically saved you.”
“That was you?”
“Yeah. Snow can be pretty evil to people who are lost in it, you know. One of the scouts saw the fire, so I went over and got you back here in this castle.” Fighter nodded, and it was then that Black Mage noticed a great difference in Fighter’s white crown. He quickly whipped out his hand, kept Fighter’s head bowed, and peered at it. The crown had a crimson jewel set in its center where a white diamond stretched out from the crown, and the peaks that were normally there were instead claws that curved over his head. Between the peaks and the diamond were more claws, smaller but still small hooks nonetheless, and there were two little sapphires on each side of the large ruby. Black Mage pushed Fighter back.
“Okay, talk. Where’d you get the crown.”
“Dude, I’m a freaking king. Don’t you see that?”
“Wait, what?”
The word king failed to register in Black Mage’s scrambled mind. Fighter lifted his hands and readjusted the crown on his head, his eyes cast up to make sure it was in the right position.
“Wait, what?” Black Mage repeated stupidly.
“King.”
“Wait, wha – “
“Okay, really. Stop that. Maybe king’s not the right word to describe it…”
Black Mage sighed, thinking Fighter really wasn’t a king after all.
“I’m more of an emperor.”
“No,” Black Mage interrupted, widening his eyes. “No. Just, no. You and your little fantasies are scaring me. Please stop talking. You are not the ruler of an empire that you named the Empire of the Shining Blade.”
“I was going to go with the Zodiac Empire.”
“Shut up!” Black Mage clapped his hands over his ears madly, shutting his eyes and shaking his head with fury. Fighter rose to full height, staring down at him.
“What, jealous?”
“I said shut up!”

[CelebrenIthil]

Too bad, Red Mage still not in the story!

I tought it was pretty obvious it was fighter (strong, and he says pal to BM), but we his he carrying aroung a plank, and WM with a pole? Hmmm...
Anyway, nightmare's gonna get even WORST for BM in the next part I believe... ;)
((maybe because of a certain drawing...*whistle*))

It's good, continue! Tough I sometimes get lost (like in the crown description, I've understood but I have the feeling i've been reading sometime srambled...), but it's probably because English's not my first language and that your writting style is rather complex.
Anyway....
Go Seran GGOOOOO!!! :whee:

[Mondt]

I was wrong =( Fighter seems a bit smarter. Less naïve I guess. Well, how could he have gotten the be the emporer of the Empire of the Shining Blade without being a little bit intelligent?

[Seran]

If Fighter and White Mage smile at each other, what does that suggest? And it also relates to something that would ototally kill Black Mage.

....

...Buwaha. Buwahahaha haaaa ha haaa!
Anyway, does anyone else have any stories while I force you guys to patiently wait for me to post up the next part which has already been typed out but I'll make you guys wait anyway?

[Mondt]

If Fighter and White Mage smile at each other, what does that suggest? And it also relates to something that would ototally kill Black Mage.But.. but... buhbbu.... Why?! He was supposed to hook up with (E)PS! XD

[Seran]

Does Black Mage even know that much about Princess Sara? Besides, she'd reject Fighter anyway...

[PCD]

*gasp* Them two! Ooooh mahgod, that's so cute!

A muscular, sleeveless person... *giggle* Awwwwesome. And since it's a dream, it totally makes sense.

[Seran]

The muscular sleeveless person was just an insignificant stranger who accidentally hurt Black Mage.

[PCD]

Dammit. I was looking forward to that...

[Seran]

...Looking forward to what?
Hm...where's my notebook? It has the pre-written update for the story...

[CelebrenIthil]

I almost changed my location for +Infinite God’s Cavern but I do like my (very fashionable) hat, and caverns are kinda damp and creepy.... :D

Oh, all-mighty Seran, why thou ast to torture ye humble readers like our ever-powerful and forever undethroned Brian? :sweatdrop

[PCD]

...Looking forward to what?
You know. A certain muscular, sleeveless person making an appearance. From beyoooond the graaaave! Apparently I just assume too much, though.

[CelebrenIthil]

You know. A certain muscular, sleeveless person making an appearance. From beyoooond the graaaave! Apparently I just assume too much, though.

Oh. You were talking of him.

Well, I don't think he had enough importance in Black Mage's life to appear in his nightmare, but, eh, that's my opinion...


And with that, I'm outta here, or I'll spam this topic until there is more goodness to read.

[Seran]

Part Five
Fighter then shook his own head sadly. “You’re the same as always, BM. Same as always…” He turned around and whistled out to the air, splitting the voices of others that were stuck in conversations of their own. Two young men were exiting the room through a door, when out of nowhere, a small brown blur dashed through. The men gave startled shouts and nearly fell back as a falcon appeared, perching on Fighter’s left wrist, which was covered by a falconry glove. Its yellow eyes, big black pupils gleaming, peered at Black Mage curiously as it tilted its head left to right. Its brown wings settled by its sides, yellow talons clutching Fighter’s glove as its black claws dug into it. Its yellow beak was sharp and made for tearing. It had white undersides and was unusually large, but seemed no heavier than a cotton ball to Fighter.
“Okay,” Black Mage started cautiously, eyeing the bird. “What is that?"
“Dragonbird,” Fighter answered quite simply.
“Wait, what?”
“Look, you just did it again.”
“Oh, shut up. Just tell me what the fug is going on!”
Fighter turned his head towards Black Mage, his expression replaced by an awkward stare, with one eyebrow raised and the other lowered.
“What do you mean?”
“Look, I’m sure you remember Thief had us all tied to a boulder so that he could make us push it into a river.”
“Push it into a…Look, you’re not making sense. Are you sure you’re –”
“I’m making every bit of sense, thank you very much! It’s you who’s not making sense, you’re not even telling me what the hell is going on around here! What’s with Thief holding supreme power over Hell, what’s with you thinking you’re an emperor, and why was White Mage here a minute ago!”
“…Uh…”
“And where is Red Mage?”
“Do I have to answer in order? I mean, you were yelling so quickly I couldn’t understand everything you asked…” Fighter scratched the back of his head, blinking down at Black Mage. The mage twitched with anger, but suppressed it while he watched Fighter ponder.
“Fighter,” Black Mage growled angrily through gritted teeth, “just tell me how you became an…” His eye visibly twitched with reluctance. “…Emperor.”
“Emperor, eh?”
“Damn it, how can you, above all people, hold rule over an entire empire!”
“Well, suppressing smarts is not an easy thing because it really can diminish one’s intelligence when the mind is not practiced.”
“What? Don’t start going gibberish on me!”
“I’m not.”
“Then what in the many burning chambers of Hell are you –?”
Dragonbird, the great falcon perching on Fighter’s wrist, thrust his head forward and screeched at Black Mage with a hostile squawk, wings departing their dormant positions mildly, ready to stretch out and carry it into flight. Black Mage glanced once at the falcon’s large, gleaming talons, and hid under the blanket that he had been clutching the entire time. A soft and white blanket, it was. Upon realizing its bright color, Black Mage cast it off him and pointed wildly at the bird, with its yellow eyes fixed on him angrily.
“You keep that thing away from me,” he muttered, his eye twitching once more.
“Why?”
“Because it – it…bothers me.”
“It bothered everyone until everyone got used to it. Right, Dragon?”
The falcon squawked in agreement.
“Now come down to the kitchen and have something to eat, lazy BM!” Fighter exclaimed cheerfully, and he stood with a sweep of his elegant cape, striding off in a way that suggested, he possibly was not Fighter at all.

“This is not the kitchen,” quietly said a stunned Black Mage. “This is a fugging dining hall for five hundred fugging giants!” Indeed, the dining hall stretched for what seemed to be two miles. That obviously suggested just how massive the castle must have been! Black Mage stared down the many long tables that were covered in fine, tan cloth sheets; with countless, tall chairs shaped into magnificent figures of elegance. The light brown walls were practically golden-brown by the yellow light cast upon them by the beautiful lamps, the ghost-white floor tiles just as lovely as the entire dining hall. He found his voice once more as Fighter ambled in mildly.[
“Wait ‘til you see how big the kitchen is,” Fighter replied, casually scratching his head, his red hair waving back and forth. “Kitchen, BM. Kitchen. Over there.” With his other hand, he stretched out his arm and pointed towards the kitchen, which was a table down, and on the other side of the line of tables. Black Mage’s eyes followed his finger to the entrance of the kitchen silently, without lending another word to the conversation. He stood there, gazing, and when Fighter thought Black Mage would not be moving at all, he pushed him along gently. “Come on, there’s much more to see than this! You need breakfast!” Black Mage’s yellow shoes slid against the tiled floor, occasionally squeaking as he, in his paralyzed state, was forced away to a kitchen that must have been very massive within.
“This is impossible,” Black Mage commented weakly. “How did it happen?”
“Heh, long story,” Fighter responded rather dismissively. “Especially since you had gone missing for like, months. Four months.” He then saw the mage abruptly whirl around, grip his wrists, and stare into his eyes hard. Fighter blinked, stunned by the sudden movement.
“Four months?” Black Mage demanded, his yellow eyes wide with disbelief. “Don’t start storytelling, Fighter, that’s impossible! I would have known I had gone missing for four months!”
+++

Lali-ho, people...lali...okay, you know what? Not lali-ho.

+++
“You didn’t know?” Fighter answered with equal surprise. “Maybe you fell into a coma and were never found?”
“I was outside, Fighter, someone would have found me three months and a half ago!” Black Mage thrust his hand into his blue cloak in an attempt to pull his knife free, but alas, it was not there. Fighter’s eyes glanced down at his cloak, not certain of the reason Blade Mage was reaching into his cloak.
“Yeah, but when you’re outside, anything can happen…”
Fighter forcefully pulled his hands away with a swift withdraw, then grabbed Black Mage by the shoulders, turned him around, and continued to push his friend towards the kitchen. Surprised by such commanding strength, Black Mage could only remain silent as Fighter guided him away to an area just as elegant as the rest of the castle, only more messy with spills of food splattered all over the floor, blotches stuck to the white walls, and steam rising from every pot and pan. The smell of food was confusing and, admittedly, a bit repulsive at first with the scents blending together as they heard the clanging of steel and the clunks of wood. The kitchen was wide and large, but as colossal as it seemed, it wasn’t even half the dining hall’s size.
“Just how many people are you feeding?” Black Mage asked, trying to recover from the shock of knowing he was in a giant castle he would most likely become lost in.
“Do I have to answer?” Fighter inquired somewhat sheepishly with a grin. “It’s gotten real dangerous over time, so a lot of people had been coming into the castle for protection. Then builders started making the castle bigger, and it just kept on going. A lot of people in the kingdom around the castle had decided to make themselves at home here, but in return, they have to work one way or another.”
“So part of your empire lives in your castle.”
“Our castle.”
“What?”

[DarkCORN!]

...So...So awesome...keep up the good work.

[Seran]

Yay! Someone posted so I wouldn't be tempted to post a second time in front of my previous post! Thanks for saving me. And thanks for the comment.

+++
Part Six
“Nothing!” The last answer was very hasty, and before Black Mage could get a look at Fighter’s expression, he was pushed even more forcefully, this time away from the ‘emperor’ into the middle of the large kitchen. As the mage stumbled, he could see that most of the people that were bustling about the kitchen were women, a few portly but many slim and attractive. A few were, for some reason, wearing rag-dresses, several others plain sets of clothing, and the rest wore dresses made of cloth or silk. Those who were men seemed to wear only ordinary clothing, but he saw either one or two in light armor walking back and forth. A young girl walked by him, clutching an empty but steaming pot by the handles on its sides, cautious of its burning steel as she nearly bumped into him. Black Mage backed away before she could, and noticed Fighter had somehow appeared in a completely different part of the room. He was waving at him from the other side of the kitchen, the opposite part from where he had entered, and Black Mage watched Fighter turn around with swish of his cape, and walk away towards the exit. Glancing around one last time, Black Mage ran after him.
He soon managed to reach Fighter once more, panting through the steam puffing around in the giant kitchen. He leaned over, clutching his chest, trying to speak in the midst of the noise all around him. Fighter’s back was turned to him, his cape becoming moister by the minute the longer he remained in the kitchen. Black Mage knew this when he gripped the cape with his other hand, his lungs pulling in air and pushing it back out at a rapid rate. Fighter was having s leisurely talk with another stranger. When he managed to glance up, he saw it was a white mage possibly several years younger than them. Her robes were pure white, with strands of brown hair over her left shoulder from her white hood. Wrapping over the same left shoulder, around her chest, and beneath her right arm, was one of those sword belts that held one’s sword on his or her back. Black Mage could clearly see she was holding some bizarre shortsword in her right hand with a yellow hilt and red blade.
“…So he walks over and knocks and my door and he’s all, ‘Hey Fighter!’ and I was like, ‘Yo!’”
“Who was it?”
“It was RM, and I was real surprised to see his new look. I mean, it was like this divine presence standing before me even though it was one of my friends, but it just makes you want to ask, ‘Dude, how’d you become a demi-god!’”
Black Mage, having heard the whole thing, nearly melted at those last two, dreadful words.
“Got the pie ready?”
“Yes, emperor, I do! Where’s your guest?” The girl’s blue eyes glittered with curiosity on her pale face. Fighter glanced down and finally noticed Black Mage. He lightly grasped his friend by the arm, mildly pulled him onto his feet, and made a sweeping gesture towards him with his other hand.
“Right here,” he replied to the mage-fighter servant. “Go on and get the pie.”
She bowed gracefully, turned around, and disappeared into the steam.
“Wh-who was that?” Black Mage stammered, recovering his breath quickly. “And what kind of pie are you getting?” he added with mild glee.
“Just one of the servants, pretty friendly at times. Dunno what she made.”
“And her name is…?”
“Uh, dunno. Something like Serna or something.”
“Seran, emperor,” politely corrected the girl as she suddenly speared behind Black Mage. “Seran. Oh, here’s the pie, guest. Enjoy your stay at the castle!” While she handed the dish to Fighter, she lowered herself, bending her knees mildly, leaning towards Black Mage’s ear. “Enjoy it as long as you can…”
“Sounds like you’ve been spying,” Fighter cut in, still inspecting the pie. “What news you got?”
“Discus in public, emperor?” she replied in a falling tone. “Certainly not! I’ll report to you later. I need to find Skeleton…” Seran swiftly turned, clutching her sword, and disappeared again. Black Mage watched her leave, bewildered at what had just been said.
“I don’t get what’s happening. Okay, tell me if I’m right. You rule an empire, White Mage is here with you, Red Mage is a demi-god, Thief is a goddamn ruler of Hell, and you have a thirteen-year-old mage who’s a mage, a fighter, a spy, and a cook? Ooh, is that apple pie?” He took the dish away from Fighter, hastily, and started stuffing himself.
“Hmm…” Fighter contemplated, arranging his crown on his head. “Yes, yes, yes, yes, and yes, except I have loads of other servants who have a lot more jobs than her. Oh, and yeah, that’s apple pie.” As Black Mage stuffed the rest of the pie in his mouth, he shut his eyes, swallowed hard, then quickly turned on Fighter with an oppressive glare.
“If you have all these servants here, what’s White Mage? Another lowly servant?” he asked aggressively, leering at Fighter. The warrior blinked, unsure of how to respond.
“Well, she…she told me not to tell you…”
“Tell me!”
“But I can’t, White Mage said – ”
“Look, it’s Bahamut!” Fighter managed to interrupt hurriedly. He raced out the doorway to meet with the dragon king, wildly greeting him just to break away from Black Mage.

Time went by unusually quickly, as though in a matter of minutes rather than twenty-three and a half hours. There had been so much commotion and confusion in the castle. He had gotten lost twice, and both times White Mage appeared at the right time to help him back to a familiar location. He had tried to talk with her and flirt, but on the second time she had helped him, he had nearly been catapulted through the window by means of her massive hammer. It was only a few minutes ago he had tried to use an offensive pick-up line to gain her heart. She had nearly crushed him, but the Skeleton character Seran had mentioned leapt in, and stopped White Mage just in time. Instead, she had pulled out two spare mallets and chased him down three corridors, one wing, and two chambers. The scene had attracted many eyes, and the pursuit would have gone on if Fighter hadn’t stepped in and stopped White Mage. He hadn’t seen Fighter had stopped her by wrapping his arms around her chest, leaving her arms free but restraining her nonetheless. Black Mage only knew he had seen a jolly Berserker during the chase, accompanied by a shifty Rogue, but no Cleric and no Half-Elven Dual Class Ranger.
Now it was nighttime, and there was an overwhelming darkness in his room. A maroon curtain was pulled over the window, and the decorative brown door was closed. The walls that were once pearly white were now black from the darkness. The bed he laid in was large and soft, with a fluffy and warm blanket. Snow was drifting outside, lazily falling upon the ground, which was already coated in white. There was a soft gentle breeze, and a dim crescent moon in the black sky. The stars twinkled, and a calm silence rested within the castle. But despite the slumbering peace, Black Mage could not sleep. He was full of far too many thoughts. With every question he hoped to answer, he only found more questions to baffle over. With every answer he managed to find, he found something else that made it, possibly, a lie. Restless, he decided to slip out from beneath the covers, stand beside his bed, and quietly walk out the door with no hesitation at all. As soon as he stepped past the threshold, he noticed the dancing light of a torch’s flames across the hallway, driving the darkness away, struggling to keep its own space where an amber light flicked back and forth. Down both sides of the hallway were more torches lining the stone walls. At the end of the hallway, on his left, was another black mage who seemed very similar to him, except with a skull replacing the crescent moon that was supposed to be on his hat, and his pants were bloodred. Black Mage ignored Vesus’s presence, looking down to his right, where there were only more doors and torches. Wanting to avoid the disorderly and mischievous Vesus, he turned around and quickly hurried down the hallway, spinning left as he reached the curve, and down another hallway that led to a great, magnificent chamber emblazoned with gold designs and white, marble walls; a ceiling, domed, curved over the chamber, white and wide; the floor, with glossy smoke-white tiles, reflected the light of the lamps. Black Mage briefly wondered why there were torches in hallways, and lamps in every room or chamber, but dismissed it as unimportant. Before he actually reached the room, however, a shadow dropped from the ceiling, nearly scaring him into a scream.

[Quickman X]

A shadow, huh? ...Ninja? And the white mage with brown hair reminds me of your old avatar, Seran... hmm...
::edit:: Aha. Thought so.

[Seran]

'Cuz it is me. Yeah, I'll be randomly adding random people randomly throughout the story in random ways I can randomly think of. Randomly.

Maybe I should put my old avatar up again.

[PCD]

*snerk* Wow, way to work you and your buddies in there. It's great and all, but you should really make it more subtle; For example, just randomly putting Versus in there is pretty useless; unless there's a point of him being there, it's just awkward.

[Seran]

I think it just felt a little empty without, you know, random people there.

Yeah, I don't -- I don't really like this story that much, not as much as Fighter's Nightmare, even if this story's already over ten pages longer. It's just...like...I'm not sure. Not as focused. Well, actually, I'm not too sure.

...I don't know. But Vesus's presence is sort of useless in there. Except for him being there.

[Mondt]

Where was Vesus?! I didn't see...

Edit: Oh, yeah. Whenever I see a big paragraph without talking I usually just skim over it. That's probably why I didn't see it XD

[Seran]

It was after Black Mage left the room.

[Chaoswizard]

PLEASE CONTINUE!!!

I like where the story is going

[Orichi]

Indeed most interesting, of what I've read thusfar... ;)

Ah, Blackmage :bmage: stab that Fighter :fighter: again...

Fascinating, most interesting... :shifty:

[Seran]

The figure fell on their feet, one hand flat against the ground with fingers stretched out, the other a suspended fist in the air, its legs drawn up to its sides. The stranger slowly rose to full height, obviously taller than him, hidden beneath a tight black outfit that reminded him of Thief. Red eyes leered out from the mask that covered the man’s mouth and hair. A pale hand pulled the mask off his mouth, his gaze focused on Black Mage.
“What are you doing?” he demanded with a dark hiss.
“I couldn’t sleep,” Black Mage replied, staring back at the man’s red eyes. “What are you doing, scaring me to death like that?”
“I am,” the rogue explained, “a ninja hired to protect the castle at night. The enemy killed my family, and so I came to the castle for aid and a home.”
“I’m just a guest,” came the dull answer. “You could just ask the king himself.” The ninja only nodded, before he turned around, leapt up, and disappeared into the darkness. Black Mage hesitated for a moment, staring at the ceiling, then muttered, “Freak.” He raced away into the chamber, stopping at its center, gazing around at its walls. He simply stood there, watching everything around him, peering at every detail of the chamber, every little thing that made the room so lovely. Black Mage continued to gaze around, beholding everything it had to offer his glowing eyes. Regardless, Black Mage was tired of it, and he lifted his hands in front of him, ready to blast the place. Flames surged through his arms, preparing him for the massive blast he was about to conjure, throwing a brighter light upon the ground, when a voice daunted his progress. The flames faded as he heard White Mage speaking softly, and rather, mournfully. His arms fell by his sides as he heard a familiar name.
“…and Ranger…oh, how I miss the man…how he died in the last battle…”
“Yes, he was a great man,” sighed the pitying voice of Fighter. “Brilliant. To woe we fall with the death of such a noble warrior such as he.”
“What did our spies say?”
“The next attack will be the day after tomorrow at nightfall, dear.”
That immediately attracted Black Mage, who scuttled away to the hallway from where he could hear the two. There was another door on his left, with the figure of a wolf attached to it and a golden ring hanging from its jaws. The door designs were similar to those on the door to his room, except for the wolf head and an image of crossing rapiers carved below it. It was hanging partly open, with a soft spill of yellow light set against the floor and wall.
“Right…right…”
Black Mage cautiously snuck up to the opening, crawling on his palms and knees, leaning his head to the side to peek into the room with one eye. His cloak dragged along the ground, wrinkled badly from everything it had gone through. He was looking into a rather small room with the soft light set upon the walls and floor, by a lamp sitting on a table he could not see. In the way was another large, fluffy bed similar to the one in his room, and behind the bed was a great, maroon curtain made of velvet. Farther to the fright in front of the bed, Black Mage could plainly see Fighter standing in front of White Mage, whose hood hung behind her shoulders, her red hair gleaming in the dim light. Her head was bowed in thought and sadness; Fighter’s head was leaning over hers.
“Why so gloomy?” Fighter asked, stroking her hair gently, his other arm around her waist. White Mage quietly lifted her gaze to meet his. Black Mage could feel his rage already boiling over; Fighter was touching her, he could see! If White Mage were to move out of the way, he would have blasted Fighter into oblivion! Without thinking at all, he gripped the door, and it shook from his trembling hand. He quickly released the door, thinking it would have attracted attention, but the couple saw nothing. He watched White Mage gaze into Fighter’s eyes as he lightly grasped her hand, lifted her arm with his, hold her hand close to their chests, and offer a strange smile.
“I want you,” he said quietly, “to dance with me. Mmkay?”
“I’m not in the mood…” White Mage sighed.
“Come on. It’ll get you into the mood. Don’t be so grouchy with me.”
“Grouchy?” They started to sway in a waltz. “I’m not grouchy.”
“Well then, you can dance, can’t ya?” Fighter stepped around her and brought her with him in a twirl, his hair brushing against the air. Black Mage observed this darkly, ready to leap in and stab Fighter’s face off. The problem was that he never found any of his knives. He sat there helplessly, watching the two dance in a graceful waltz, and White Mage was quickly recovering from the sudden moves Fighter pulled on her. When he had pushed her lightly, sent her spinning away with his hand still clutching hers, she let out a surprised yell and was suddenly back with him. He was being unusually clever with what they did, each move bringing more cheer to White Mage with the seconds slipping by. Eventually, the two suddenly spun and switched spots, evidently led by Fighter when White Mage stopped with a stunned expression. Fighter’s cape stopped spinning and flapping with his motions, ceasing to only hang from his shoulders, as did White Mage’s long sleeves and hood. By that time, she was chuckling quietly at him, unable to hide the fact that she had enjoyed the brief dance that seemed to have taken so long to Black Mage. They merely stared at one another, silent and voiceless. Fighter had his back turned to Black Mage, and Black Mage could barely see White Mage’s face as her expression quietly fell into a strange, calm peace, her hands in Fighter’s as they stopped swaying. Black Mage felt dread creep up on him as he saw a slow gesture…a slow one, but he knew what was going to happen next. Unable to take it, he whirled around, scrambled away, and wildly fled back to his room as Fighter lowered his head, White Mage stood on her toes, and their lips met.
Black Mage wanted to be freed from his nightmare, but it was all too real.

[Chaoswizard]

nice

today is just not black mages day is it?

[Seran]

You could say that.

...You could say that.

Good thing it's only a nightmare...but it's gonna last quite a while for him...

[Chaoswizard]

well i've liked it so far and thats from a bm fanboy ^_^

[Quickman X]

...the tragic thing is, I saw this coming. I actually have a drawing of it in my desk drawer, dated two days ago, and labeled "Speculation on Seran's Story." Alliterations, woo-hoo!
...yeah. Keep it up, Seran.:whee:

[CelebrenIthil]

WOOT!
Kissy kissy! XD
lol, poor, poor BM. I sense trouble ahead.

Tee-hee, I cracked a grin when I've saw at first that WM with a red-bladed, yellow hilted sword... It's fun you added "random people" in the story. Heheheh. Nice addition. ;)
Also, if you would excuse me, I've got to go now, because I think you all would get traumatised to see me victory-dancing all around the place until I collapse out of energy. An then I plan to get all dreamy about this part
“It was RM, and I was real surprised to see his new look. I mean, it was like this divine presence standing before me even though it was one of my friends, but it just makes you want to ask, ‘Dude, how’d you become a demi-god!’”


*wanders away, starry-eyed, with a contented smile*

[Seran]

Sleep passed by in one mere second as Black Mage discovered himself awakening to the light, rising on his bed to see that on the wall to his left, someone had pulled the curtain aside, allowing the sun n. He groaned with detest as he was blinded by white light, and tumbled out of bed, his cloak leaving the bed as it was pulled along. He did not remember what he had seen. That was because he didn’t want to remember, and he was too focused on closing the curtain while he was still on his knees. His stiff hand gripped the cloth curtain and tried to yank it to the side, but it only resulted in pulling the curtain down. The curtain fell on top of him, while the window let in a full blow of sunlight. Irritably, he tossed it off him without trouble and stood beside the window to avoid the light. He could hear lighthearted chatter outside of his room, where his door was wide open. He stared at the doorway for a moment, recalling something he had seen, but not quite able to remember. Without warning, someone popped their head into view.
“Good morning!” the stranger exclaimed cheerfully.
“Who the hell are you?”
“Just call me PCD. Come down to the dining hall! I have to wake up any stragglers who are being lazy.”
Black Mage failed to register the person’s descriptive features. He was too tired to even notice, so with a great sigh, he decided to merely continue speaking.
“What about your king? What’s he up to?”
“Emperor.”
“Whatever.”
“I’ll wake him up later. He said he was really exhausted, and the door was locked.”
“Exhausted?”
“Yeah.”
“Was someone else with him?”
“I don’t know. Anyway, I need to get going. There’s still some lazy people around here.”
With that, PCD departed swiftly. Black Mage blinked for a moment, wondering what was wrong with her or him, then leaned his head back in a wide yawn. He quickly decided to visit his ‘friend’ where he had last seen him before heading down to the dining hall. Black Mage slowly left the room, his eyes vaguely recognizing the torches that had been extinguished. The walls were less black and more light grey, which he did not remember from the previous night, but what significance did it hold that he could not remember the wall’s color? The mage retraced his steps back to the room where he had seen Fighter and White Mage dance in a waltz. It was then he finally remembered what had happened that night.
Anger immediately drove him to run down the hallway, into the chamber where he had met the ninja with the red eyes. He quickly ran through the great room, avoiding Dragonbird, which had flown over his head and nearly snatched his hat off, its black talons nearly grabbing the crescent figure. Once he avoided Dragonbird, however, he proceeded to the small room in the other hallway; only to slam into the door when he failed to blast it open with magic. For some reason, his magic was not working. Literally flat against the door, Black Mage slid to the ground, collapsing to the side. He felt that he had just crushed his own ribs and winced. Meanwhile, there was a tired, slow sigh from within the room, and the sound of the doorknob being unlocked. The door opened by a slit, pushing out into the hallway, and pushing Black Mage along. The door ceased to move. Fighter appeared at the opening, his hand clutching his cape tightly around him for some reason. He glanced around for a confused moment in search for whomever had made such a loud racket outside his room.
“Hmm?”
Fighter noticed some unusual weight that was forcing the door back. He glanced down, noticed Black Mage, and abruptly shut the door, not giving the mage time to say anything. He groaned loudly from the inevitable pain of slamming into the door, and from the irritable hatred of Fighter for making such a rude gesture towards him. He lifted his face from the ground, his hat sitting awkwardly on his head. Before long, however, he managed to push himself onto his feet, listening to unusual sounds that were audible from the room. It sounded like the bedsheets were shifting again and again, as though someone were falling out of the bed and was trying to escape from the blankets. He heard someone whispering at first, then a sudden interruption.
“Sssshh!”
More muttering followed, and soon after, the sounds died away into silence. Black Mage pressed his ear against the door, trying to listen to whatever silent conversation may have been in session.
“I’ll be down in the dining hall in a minute!”
They were a lot more words than what Fighter normally would have said.

[CelebrenIthil]

OMG, this is it!
The Nightmare Has You BM!!!

lol
Tough I sense something's coming...
Wow, I can't wait to read next...
*puts her magical socks on*
...now I CAN wait! XD
But, I'll be looking for it!
Great!

:D

[Seran]

Oh, don't worry. While I randomly post up bits of the story, I prewrite parts for it while I'm in school, then update them while I'm on the computer.

Actually, I think there are two-four pages more after this. And still updating.

[CelebrenIthil]

Woot!
That's nice to know!
Tough how you are able to write at school impress me! :sweatdrop
It's like, that place is waaayyy too crowded for my I-hide-in-a-dark-corner-of-my-bedroom-and-write style.
I just don't feel comfortable having people everywhere watching what I do and read above my shoulder but bah, it's me...

I even still don't feel really comfortable being watched when I draw but it happens so many times in my life; I've been forced to get more used to it. :sweatdrop

Yay for random banter to hide the fact that this post was mainly a bump!

[Seran]

“Has Fighter been acting a little…sneaky lately?”
The conversation was only a very small fraction of the noise in the dining hall. Black Mage was stuck sitting between Vesus, Skit, and across from a girl named Quickman.
“Not really,” Vesus answered, snatching a platter of bacon away from some unnamed person. “Why?”
“Well, he was acting suspicious this morning.”
“He’s always up to something,” Skit added mildly, not concerned about it. She did seem to be trying to avoid any actual conversation, however. She glanced over her shoulder as she noticed Jared walk by and tried to speak to him, but above all the noise, he didn’t hear her.
“Anyone know where Kurosen, Shiney, or Meister have gone?” Quickman asked them.
“Who?” Black Mage replied bluntly.
“Never mind. They’re not part of the empire. Just a few people I’m concerned about.”
“Uh-huh…”
Black Mage closed his eyes in hopes he could clear his head, but he could not; instead, he slammed his face into the table and did not move, despite the pain. There was a pause, while he soaked in the noise around him, and eventually, heard Vesus speaking as though he were leaning over him.
“Something wrong?”
Black Mage did not answer. He only knew there were too many people he was being introduced to. Damn that entire place. He didn’t even bother to mumble through the wood as Vesus, Skit, and Quickman exchanged various glances. They eventually heard him say something indistinct.
“Ah hrnd ym rn.”
“Speak up,” Vesus taunted encouragingly. Black Mage lifted his head, drove a fist against the table, and yelled at them.
“I hate you all!”
People around them settled into silence.
“What!”
“Hey, how’re things?”
Fighter appeared over his shoulder, apparently out of nowhere. Black Mage’s eyes snapped his gaze to him, burning with anger at the very voice of the warrior. “Where are my knives?” Black Mage demanded loudly.
“You need a knife?” Fighter replied, raising his head. He looked to the table where there was clearly some silverware.
“There’s a knife right there.”
Black Mage stared down at the knife, completely dumbfounded. It was small, had a serrated edge, but nonetheless, he gripped the knife and stabbed it right through Fighter’s skull.
Blood seeped out of the wound.
Soon after, Black Mage saw more blood, but not Fighter’s. A slash of it flew through the air, landed on the once-spotless floor with a splat, and he covered his face, his eyes, as a sudden burn cut through them. He felt himself land on the ground, heard a slowly increasing silence, and heard a growing whimper from his own throat. As though to add to the ominous moment, he heard a bell ring nine times to the hour. He heard footsteps approach him. Slow, gentle footsteps, and a cape fluttering just over the ground. A flat, steel object nudged him in the side while he laid on his stomach, clutching his bleeding eyes, rasping in pain. The object pushed him over onto his back, but he dared not to look, for fear he would see Fighter standing over him through his own blood. Among the silence, there were no more footsteps, but a rather sick, slow sound of Fighter pulling the knife out of his skull. Black Mage rolled from side to side gently, unable to cope with the pain. He abruptly sensed the knife fall from above and hit the floor with a clang. The silence was uneasy.
“Where’s White Mage?” he could hear Fighter ask, his tone surprisingly dark and angry. “Go bring her here.” Someone hastily hurried away, their leather shoes audible as they ran along the ground. Blood was slowly seeping out of Black Mage’s eyes even more, his whines the only thing that he could hear now. The seconds dragged on, the minutes ticked by, and the silence eventually rippled with whispers from all around him. He thought he had gone blind. He was not sure if Fighter was still there. With his eyes shut, he reached out, searched the air, and eventually felt his way to the emperor’s leg, gripping it and pulling himself up onto his knees, with his head bowed below his shoulders. It hurt so much. He wanted the pain to stop. The humiliation and the bleeding needed to stop for him.
“Can’t find her anywhere,” said a young boy in a Scottish accent, panting as he rushed up to Fighter. “Nowhere to be seen.”
“What!” spat an enraged snarl.
“I’ll heal him,” Seran answered weakly, as though from fear. Black Mage sensed her kneel down by him, pry his hand away from his eyes, and place her own on them. The pain suddenly went numb as his bleeding stopped, his eyes healed, and his vision returned. Black Mage trembled, but he soon pulled his eyelids open, the yellow glow of his eyes shooting out. He glanced around warily, saw a worried Seran without her hood, saw Skit staring right at him, saw PCD frozen in the middle of the hall, and saw Fighter briskly walking away with his cape flapping behind him.
Fight your way out of it.
I can’t…I’m lost in this new Hell…
Do it.
I can’t…who’s talking?
The idleness of everyone in the dining hall subsided. The murmurs steadily grew into louder conversations. The tone of the noise flooding the place sounded graver than it had before, and not even the light of the sun through the windows of the neighboring rooms could bring cheer to the chatter. PCD walked on by, Black Mage stared at the small puddle of blood, Seran rubbed it off with her white sleeve, and the echoes of the bell faded away. The blood stained Seran’s white sleeve, but she didn’t seem to care. She made sure no smear was left on the floor. Bahamut lazily stomped towards them, looking quite unconcerned despite what had just happened. Quickman tried to stir some successful talk between her, Vesus, and Skit, while Jared reappeared, standing behind Seran and staring down. Bahamut joined them, his jaws stretching wide in a great, loud yawn. An unusual scent fell upon them for a few seconds. Black Mage glared up at Bahamut, wondering if there was a breath mint for dragons. Bahamut’s scales were dull in the dim light, as it was morning and there was no need to light the lamps. Seran flicked her sleeve, as it felt a tad heavier than usual, and a bit of the blood then flecked Jared’s robes. Jared took a step back, blinking at his mildly stained clothing. Black Mage did not feel pleased with having his own blood flung around, and he watched Seran wipe the floor with her other sleeve. Oh, so now she was a janitor.

[Kila_angel]

(gotta hate blocked sites...)
I always had a thought that WM and Fighter could be engaged (or at least dating)
BUT GREAT STORY!! (from a little BM fangirl ^^) :bmage: I still hate this though...
me:aw shuddap!!!

[CelebrenIthil]

lol, somehow it always ends with you getting blood on your robes.
...
You know, you should definitively consider wearing RED. XD

So, back to the good ol' fighter stabbing! Tough things haven't turned like usual for BM. Ah! Nothing's the same now that Fighter is intelligent! XD
(or let's say, wiser.)
I'm puzzeled, is it Fighter who stabbed Black Mage? I somehow didn't felt like he was the one that did it, it's not clear.... Mmmmm.... Fighter sounded pissed off like if he was angry one of his companion tried to defend him or something... anyway...:sweatdrop

More forum people, yay!
((the funniest being Quickman...who is a girl... :whee: ))

[Mondt]

Fighter? Reaction? Normally he passes out after being stabbed in the head. Y'know, his irony center?

So why was blood coming out of his eyes?

[Seran]

You'll see what happened in this part. Or at least it'll be explained why Black Mage's eyes spurt out blood and he went blind.

+++

“No condescending insult whatsoever?” Bahamut mumbled to Black Mage. “That’s new. Has he stricken you with fright?”
“You’re just not worried ‘cuz you’re a dragon.”
“There’s nothing to argue about,” Seran whispered timidly, standing up and quickly rushing down towards the end of the hall. Her footsteps departed as Jared turned the other way, walked to the opposite end, and left Black Mage with Bahamut. Black Mage watched Seran leave, not noticing she had taken the knife that Fighter had been stabbed in the skull with.
“What’s her problem?”
“I don’t know,” Bahamut replied with a shrug.
“Why am I asking you?
Why are you asking him? Asked a voice, a voice much more different than the previous anonymous voice. The voice was not as dark, not as commanding, but he would recognize it anywhere.
“Red Mage?”
Bahamut blinked at him. Black Mage was staring at the ground, still on his knees, but slowly, numbness came to his head. His consciousness swayed, his body became numb, his vision split into a blur, and the chatter around him faded. He didn’t see Bahamut’s expression, but he did see the dragon was backing away. He saw a white glow appearing from his very body. The colors in his vision started to spin and blur together, white overcoming his entire being. His mind steadily whirled more violently in his head, he practically went deaf, and he could feel a cold, cold rush of air consuming him as his body tumbled through a space of nothing but confused colors, a space of no sound, and a space of mere, brief insanity. He felt his consciousness breaking from the unusual dimension he was being thrown through. He couldn’t feel any part of his body. He wanted to shout out, but his voice was dead. There was nothing there but the world of twisting color and light.
Black Mage’s head slowly recovered from the tremendous journey. He could finally sense his body again, and he felt it had settled into a nice, warm, comfortable chair, his hands in his lap, his back against the chair’s fine leather. He could smell a small fire. As he swayed, the colors slowly stopped spinning, allowing him to see everything he could identify. The white glow on his body faded. He saw a fireplace on the opposite end of where he was, with a large carpet covering the entire floor. The carpet had brown designs, golden flecks, red symbols, and a black background. The walls were lumps of smooth, grey stone. Countless artifacts of unimaginable value were placed on the stone walls, some in glass cases. Some in sheathes, and some on wooden shelves. A fire flickered in the fireplace, which was made of maroon bricks. Black Mage stared at the fireplace for a long time, confused.
“Where did you come from?” asked the startled voice of a lady. Black Mage jumped. He quickly glanced to his left, where there stood a tall figure whom he nearly mistook for Red Mage. She wore the same hat, had an impressively sturdy outfit with a red cloak, dark brown hair, and a questioning look on her slightly tan face. “You just…dropped right in! Out of nowhere!” she exclaimed, pointing at the ceiling.
“He’s here already?” inquired the voice of someone else. It was joined with the creak of an opening door. Black Mage cast his gaze to the wall on his right, where he could clearly see Red Mage taking a step in through the doorway. He wasn’t wearing his hat – instead, he was holding it. His white hair, for some strange reason, gave off some heavenly glow that would have hypnotized Black Mage, if it weren’t for the fact Black Mage was uninterested. His eyes had a marvelous glitter in them. He wasn’t wearing sleeves, showing his rather lean arms that seemed more powerful to Black Mage than before. He was wearing his red cloak as usual, but it seemed to be made of some much finer material that gave it this beautiful shine, and allowed it to flow quite freely through the wind. He was wearing his usual outfit that was perfectly untouched, hardy, and yet very light. His face was unmasked and smiling, his thin hair waved at his waist, and folded by his sides were two elegant, white wings of a bird that reached his ankles while folded. Black Mage, stunned at this new appearance, could only assume that Fighter was not lying.
Damn the whole fugging world. It just wasn’t fair. Years he worked towards power, and this was the thanks he got for all his efforts? Powerless beneath three bastards while they pranced around, showing off?
“I don’t prance,” Red Mage said crossly. Black Mage blinked with even more shock, while the girl next to him giggled at Red Mage’s mind reading ability. “Now, Celebren, how about you head down to the kitchen and cook something for our guest?”
The girl – named Celebren, apparently – nodded quickly with a smile, then immediately left the two in the room, hurrying out the door. Black Mage silently watched her depart.
“Nothing to say, hm?”
Red Mage was only met by silence.
“I see.”
He turned towards the fireplace, strode over to the flames, and watched the embers dance. The fire sent his flickering shadow upon the carpet. His hair glowed in the darkness. Black Mage watched him, slowly allowing envy to consume his soul as he gazed at the room around him. It was then he realized Red Mage’s back was turned to him. He held out his right gloved hand, concentrated, and murmured a spell to freeze the demi-god.
“Ice-3,” he muttered.
No spell came out.
“Ice-3!” he repeated with a rising tone.
Still no spell showed any signs of working.
“Goddamn it, fuck you, when I say Ice-3, I mean Ice-3!” he yelled, attracting Red Mage’s undivided attention.
“Something sapped you of your magic,” Red Mage explained in his boredom. “You can’t freeze me.”
“Damn it!”
“Look, you’re recovering from your shock already! That’s good, that’s good.”
“Stop taunting me!” Black Mage shrieked, seeming to flare with anger as he leapt to his feet. He pointed violently at Red Mage. “I want an explanation!”
“Well…” Red Mage replied wonderingly. “After you stabbed Fighter, he got very angry. I think…no, I’m sure he couldn’t suppress all his past moments of rage, so he took it out on you.”
“Not that!”
“He whipped out one of his swords and sliced your eyes.”
“I – oh.”
“Quite. Now, you were saying?”
“I want to know how this all happened. Fighter ruling an empire, Thief ruling Hell, and you ruling mortal godliness.”
“First, you must want to know why I teleported you from the castle to here.”
Black Mage was still standing, but he looked tired from the teleportation. He knew Red Mage wouldn’t have cared for him, so he didn’t know the reason why he was there.
“Yeah.”

[CelebrenIthil]

*shake head in disbelief*
*open mouth like a dead fish*

.....OMGIAMWITHREDMAGEINALLHISMIGHTYSEXIESTDEMI-GODGLORY

*drools her brain off*
*faints*
*explodes like a thousand little firecrackers of joy*
:whee:

Black Mage watched Seran leave, not noticing she had taken the knight that Fighter had been stabbed in the skull with.
Isn't supposed to be knife here?

he felt it had settled into a nice, warm, comfortable chair, his hands in his lap, his back against the chair’s fine leather. He could smell a small fire. As he swayed, the colors slowly stopped spinning, allowing him to see everything he could identify. The white glow on his body faded. He saw a fireplace on the opposite end of where he was, with a large carpet covering the entire floor. The carpet had brown designs, golden flecks, red symbols, and a black background. The walls were lumps of smooth, grey stone. Countless artifacts of unimaginable value were placed on the stone walls, some in glass cases. Some in sheathes, and some on wooden shelves. A fire flickered in the fireplace, which was made of maroon bricks.
I almost changed my location for +Infinite God’s Cavern but I do like my (very fashionable) hat, and caverns are kinda damp and creepy.... :D


Forget I EVER say that. O.o


“Where did you come from?” asked the startled voice of a lady. Black Mage jumped. He quickly glanced to his left, where there stood a tall figure whom he nearly mistook for Red Mage. She wore the same hat, had an impressively sturdy outfit with a red cloak, dark brown, and a questioning look on her slightly tan face. “You just…dropped right in! Out of nowhere!” she exclaimed, pointing at the ceiling.
*giggles* I can so totally imagine me! X D
*hug you*

[Insert totally mind-blastingly YUMMEY description of Red Mage in all his demi-godliness wich I sadly a little too long to be quoted]
O____________________O
I AM TEH HYPNOTISED AND I DON'T EVEN SEE HIM....
Just too.....beautiful....brain....melting....love...ha te...clouds...
glebbllll....
...bl...
.....
((And he has WINGS! WIIINNGGGSS!!! O.o So beautiful....))
*falls on her knees and workship Seran*

“I don’t prance,” Red Mage said crossly.
lol. Taken outside the context, it is a pretty funny quote. X D

the girl next to him giggled at Red Mage’s mind reading ability. “Now, Celebren, how about you head down to the kitchen and cook something for our guest?”
The girl – named Celebren, apparently – nodded quickly with a smile, then immediately left the two in the room, hurrying out the door.
Teh lol! ^^ Of course I will cook! (I hope they like chocolate! ¬¬)

“Ice-3,” he muttered.
No spell came out.
“Ice-3!” he repeated with a rising tone.
Still no spell showed any signs of working.
“Goddamn it, fuck you, when I say Ice-3, I mean Ice-3!” he yelled, attracting Red Mage’s undivided attention.
LOL, hilarious! X D

[The end of all the quoting-ness]

lol, sorry for all of that but I just HAD to! :sweatdrop
I sooooo totally loooooove this chapter! ^^
((no particular reasons...¬¬""" ))

Also, even if my attention was somehow focused on someo...elsewhere, I've read it all (yup yup) and I wonder why Red Mage has brought Black Mage there, me too... O___é
And do they like chocolate???? .___.

Also, Fighter being the one that slashed BM in the eyes surprised me; he was not prone to bursts of anger like that in the past. If we take that in the context of being BM's nightmare, then somehow he's scared Figther would stop his ever-friendly-blindness towards him...
Hm. Interesting.

But not as much as Red Mage!!!!! :D
Now, if you would excuse me, I have some cooking to do! *giggles*

((Also, I'll be gone in the forest for the weekend, so do not expect feedback from me if you post something else in that while. But I'll make sure to read and review it when I'll be back. EDIT: Weekend in the forest cancelled because of slippery rain-drenched roads. Finally I will be there to read the upcoming parts of the story.Also, I MAY come with a drawing that MAY or MAY not be inspired by what I've just read now.))
lol

~lots of hugs, love, kisses and chocolate cookies

[Seran]

Thanks for pointing out the evil typo of doom Celebren! And I'm glad to see you're in love with the fact that I put you in the same place where a beautifully handsome demi-god lives and refers to you as though you were an equal.

[Kila_angel]

Very nice chapter!! Red Mage as a demi-god-look at all those RM fans lol!! CAN I HAVE YOUR AUTOGRAPH?!:whee: :sweatdrop

[Seran]

She wore the same hat, had an impressively sturdy outfit with a red cloak, dark brown hair


Gawd damn, how did I miss that?

Autograph? Autograph? Did you really just say autograph?

...who wants me to update at this very moment?

[CelebrenIthil]

Gawd damn, how did I miss that?
Yeah I had noticed but I have forgotten to write it in my message. ._.

Autograph? Autograph? Did you really just say autograph?
YES! WHAT AN INCREDIBLE IDEA! I WANT ONE TOO!!!! O.o

...who wants me to update at this very moment?
Is that really a question?
Do I really need to answer?

SWEET LORD, ME!!!
:whee:

[Mondt]

Yeah. Sign a paper, mail it to us and then when you are a famous author we can be all like, "Yeah, we knew her... well... not really, but we still did! Look at this napkin!"

XD

Oh yeah, update at this ver moment.

[Seran]

I would, but now I'm on the computer that does not have the story on it.

Darn it!

But I can write some random things just to pass the time by. How 'bout an interactive story between updates?

[CelebrenIthil]

Yeah, why not? Anything would be fine.
I just love reading your works.
Too bad you don't upload them of fanfiction.net ^^"
I would add you to my favorite authors right away.

[Seran]

...I have Zelda fanfiction that I had started long, long ago. So the writing style is quite different. The Last of Promised Light.

+++

"Are you sure you're not -- "
"O' course."
Bikke was flapping the blue sheet over the campfire with Vilbert standing at a nervous distance away.
"But the fire's burning enough."
"Naw, ya can't have too much fire in a campfire. Yarr."
"Unless you set the forest around you ablaze!" the vampire answered, pointing at all the foliage that surrounded them. Indeed, they were in a forest, and the darkness was absolute. The moonlight slid down easily past the few leaves above, for the canopy was not thick, and nor were they lost. Sitting in the shadows, keeping a safe and cautious distance far from Bikke was Drizz'l, his white hair like threads of the moonlight draped over his shoulder. He glared irritably, cold and freezing, for that morning he had awoken to find someone had stolen most of his clothing. Leaving him with barely anything but shreds of his shirt and pants. Vilbert had given him his robe, but it barely helped at all in the brisk night. Drizz'l shivered miserably, but he didn't want to be even close to that buffoon of a pirate.
Thud!
Drizz'l jumped at the sound of armor falling not too far behind him. He whirled around, as it had reminded him of the Fighter idiot who had stolen his swords long ago. Garland was laying in the dirt, his legs in the air, his skull in the ground.
"A little help?" Garland asked pleadingly.
"No," said a displeased Drizz'l softly.
"...Please?"
"No."
"Please with sugar on top?"
"If you get Bikke to stop trying to set the forest on fire."
"He's trying to what?" Garland exclaimed, toppling over onto his back. He leapt onto his feet and dashed past Drizz'l, his metal knee slamming into the side of Drizz'l's skull. The poor dark elf was thrust aside as a pain exploded in the back of his head, while a grunt escaped from his strained throat, and Garland snatched the sheet away from Bikke. Drizz'l cursed as he heard Bikke casually answer Garland's demanding questions as though nothing serious had happened. Drizz'l shut his eyes to block out the pain.

[Kila_angel]

Wow...really nice. Either I have been reading too fast or you just didn't put how Garland-kun crashed head-first into the ground.
And the autograph thing, I'm kinda hyper sometimes...-_-

[Seran]

“Alright.” Red Mage lifted his hands, and he focused his gaze on something invisible that his fingers curved around. He kept them steady for a moment, while a current of air started to swirl about them. Black Mage held the edge of his hat, not wishing for it to fall off, while his blue cloak was pushed aside by the strengthening breeze. He watched Red Nage’s glowing, white hair flow with the soft wind, his red cloak rising off the ground. A glassy orb formed out of the air, pearly white within its shining shell.
“What’s that?”
“An Orb of Sight.”
“Why does that sound like ‘Orb of Light’?”
“Coincidence, I suppose.”
The air current ceased, and the orb fell into his cupped hands.
“The vision’ll be ready in a moment. I just hope I see it at the right moment…”
“Why?”
“Well, I need to prove something to you.”
“No, when you say that, it makes you sound like you saw something just plain wrong.”
“I did, but I’ll tell you later.”
Red Mage focused his eyes directly on what was in front of him. His expression fell away into a blank face. Black Mage blinked at him for a moment, trying to decipher what he was doing, but he still was most unsure of what exactly it was that Red Mage was doing. The fire clicked and hummed, the wood in the fireplace steadily burning away. Black Mage leaned over towards Red Mage, waving his hand aggressively in front of his face, yet there was no reaction. He pondered over the motionless form of Red Mage and walked back to the chair. He flopped down into it, thinking he had a moment to rest. Black Mage watched the pearly Orb of Sight, wondering what there was to see, and the longer he stared at it, he noticed the white color inside of it slowly evaporate like a fog. More colors appeared in the mist. Interested, he leaned forward, wondering what it was they were about to see. He looked up, slowly, at Red Mage’s face as he saw his hair fall by the sides of the orb, his face grave.
“Come closer if you want to see and hear.”
Black Mage sighed, ignorant of the strange, dark mood of the room, for Red Mage’s shadow consumed his own self, the fire tossing it from side to side. Black Mage walked up to the orb, and Red Mage lifted it to Black Mage’s eye level. The eye of the orb was focused on someplace that looked like a pleasant garden, with a stone path cutting through the middle, forming a circle around the center, then continuing to the other end of the garden. The orb saw no one, so it seemed to ‘fly’ to another position. It was hovering over the circle, looking to the southern door. There was glass all around the garden, indicating it was one of the castle’s special hallways. But why were they looking at a garden in Fighter’s castle?
“Patience,” said Red Mage. “I know – or should know – what we’re looking at. I can see up to twenty-six hours in the future.”
The orb shifted its gaze to the northern door. Suddenly, it noticed a figure in the right corner of the garden, standing amongst the flowers and grass. It was a man, with his head bowed. His hair was long and very messy, with spots of grey here and there. He was tall, his eyes were closed, and he was wearing armor that seemed very similar to Fighter’s – except the crown around his head was much simpler. No jewels, no fancy points, just little peaks and the diamond on the forehead. The cape reached just past his ankles, but the edges were terribly torn and there were two long cuts in it. The red-and-white armor was dull and heavily worn by time. His face was calm, yet the traces of a ferocious warrior were still within its tired features. He stood there, alone, with his hands settled upon one another, resting on the end of his sword’s hilt. The blue blade’s point gently laid upon the grass, not digging into the ground. Black Mage immediately recognized the sword’s color and design.
“Who, exactly, is th –”
“Shush.”
The door by the man opened uneasily. From the door arrived Fighter, his expression weary and worried. The orb glanced to Fighter, but looked back to the man as he spoke.
“Going…somewhere…Fighter…?” he asked in a slow, soft tone, a whisper that would never have been heard if it weren’t for the peaceful silence. Fighter’s eyes widened with surprise, and he whirled around as the stranger slowly lifted his head, his eyes opening to Fighter’s presence.
“Master Vargus!” he exclaimed nervously.
Black Mage looked at Red Mage, surprised to see Fighter’s teacher alive and present in Fighter’s own castle. He felt quite terrible already, but for some reason, he suddenly had a feeling of dread of what was to come. If he no longer held any power, he would surely wither away without anyone to remember him as a notorious ruler of what he sought to rule. In fact, he had failed at nearly everything he had attempted in the past. Glancing back at the orb, he watched the encounter between Fighter, the emperor, and Vargus, his mature and experienced teacher.
Vargus remained in his spot for a moment, his head leaning lazily to the left. It appeared that he was sniffing at the air like a dog, as though investigating some faint scent there.
“Who was it?” he asked Fighter, focusing his glittering eyes on him.

+++

And there you are. By the way, you do know what an interactive story is, right?

[CelebrenIthil]

((You have a Zelda fanfic? n_n You should really consider www.fanfiction.net y'know.))

I KNEW you were going to insert Vargus somewhere! ^^
I was sure it was him at the very second you started talking of him. Heheh!
things are getting mysterious here...
Hmmm.... I really wonder what's going on...

Also, yes, I think I know what you mean by an interactive story.
You mean that one person post a part, then another continues, and so on?

Also, the "please with sugar on top" is so Garland-esque, and that saying is simply TOO funny, I laughed so very much. ^^
Heheheh.:whee:
Stupid, but how adorable! XD

Also, you rip off the clothes of teh smexay dark elf???
Hmmm...
A little bit of self-interest here, uh? :p

[Seran]

Er...
...
...
...
...yes, that is an interactive story. We can keep going after that little first part between the updates just for the heck of it.

[[ It's been on fanfiction dot net, yo. ]]

Of course I'd put in Vargus! Why would I leave him out?

[CelebrenIthil]

Reasons to put Vargus in: -You like him.
Reasons not to put Vargus in: -none
Result: Vargus is in!
:) Make sense!

Also, yay! You are on ffnet! ^^
*adds you to favorite authors*
You really should upload yer 8-bit theater stories, yarr! ^^
(I'll make sure to read your story when I'll finish my book ._. )

Also, if I may, I'm gonna give a try at writting the next part of the DW story. ^^
Now.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The regular cracking of the fire was the only sound that broke the heavy silence that had descended on the Dark Warrior's encampment. If the two miserable tents and the four logs around the much smaller campfire could be called that way.
The dark warriors sat in silence, looking glum and generally frozen to the bones.
They had finally decided to put Vilbert in charge of the fire instead of Bikke, but the vampire didn't seemed to feel the cold as much as the others and kept the flames very low.
Of course, Drizz'l, on edge of catching a cold (if he had not catched it already) and in a rather snappy mood because of the sore pain behind his head, had tried to feed it. But Bikke then decided that he too could feed the fire, so Vilbert interposed, Garland joined to try to calm the spirits, and...well, it turned into a violent argument.
As always.
The fight finally ended when they accidentaly pushed Garland into the fire.
But most importantly, with the last plate of cookies.

So, here they were, seated in heavy silence, pathetically chewing on rock hard burned cookies. Garland's armor was still smoking a little.

After a while, Bikke picked up a small branch and began to play mindlessly in the embers. The others gave him a dark look in unison, and the pirate hurriedly threw the stick away, mumbling something incoherent. Vilbert returned his attention to the dancing flames, lost in his ever-dark toughts. Normally, he would have tried a few rhymes, but everyone was far from being in the mood and it would surely cause a fight in a way or another.

Drizz'l shivered miserably, gripping Vilbert's coat tigher around himself. He forced himself not to let is teeth chatter, his pride not allowing himself to look weak in front of the others. Tough, he could hardly feel his extremities and had a runny nose. Not matter his efforts, he LOOKED miserable.
He cursed silently his dark deities for letting himself suffer this way among these lowly idiots.

Garland had tried to cheer up the others a few time (and shouldn't you have guessed; he failed) but he felt his spirit lower. He looked glumly at his darkened armor.
Sheesh.
That would take a lot of rubbing in order to give it's magnificent evil-shine again. What kind of a vilain he would look like with a BLACK armor? No, that definitively looked awful. What if it stayed stained forever? It would truly be a shame... He had chosen with so much care the color of his armor.
"Mean Teal Aquamarine"
It was so hard to find such a delicate, yet evil tint for a suit of armor.
A shame, indeed.

Garland rose to his feet, brushing a little ash from himself.

-"Well gents, I'm off to bed. Good night." he said cheerfully.

No response.

-"I said: Good night everyone!" he insisted, is tone a little less gentle.

Various moans that could vaguely sound like a salutation(with much imagination, of course.) came from the three others.

-"Splendid!" exclaimed the armored warrior, back to his cheerful ways.

He walked up to the tent he shared with Bikke, and stopped before entering.

-"I wish you all good dreams full of sweets and rainbows and-

-"Yar, yar, jus' go sleep al'ready!" grunted Bikke. The others simply rolled their eyes. Or sneezed.

Feeling a little ruffled, Garland silently entered the tent. He took his armor off, wich was a particularly difficult task inside such a crammed space. Nonetheless, he managed to do it properly, but left his helmet on. He then put his pajamas on (wich were actually boxers with a yellow smiley-face pattern on them (he had made them himself!)) and double-checking carefully around, he plunged hands into his bed roll.
After a little bit of shuffling, a smile enlighted his face. (but we can't see it so it's a superfluous detail... ._.)

-"There you are!" he murmured happily.

He gently pulled from the covers what happened to be...

-"Mister FuzzyDoombringer!" sqealed the man in an affectionate tone as he hugged the teddy bear.

The plushie was obviously old and beared (without bad puns XD) the marks of having received lot of love. He missed hair in some place and had spotty cloth patches in a few place. A long scar-looking rip in the fabric ran over his eye, but it had been stiched with much care. Finally, some false claws had been sewn to his paws in maybe some kind of try to make him look more evil, but it only resulted in making it look sillier.

Garland cuddled the bear for a few moments, but then he heard the loud steps of Bikke coming his way. He hurriedly kissed the bear on the forehead (well, kissed with an helmet...) and threw it under the covers.

Bikke entered and felt onto his covers carelessly, not even undressing himself.

When the pirate started snoring, Garland stopped to fake sleep and rolled under the sheets, searching for the plushie. His hand finally felt on the soft stuffed bear. Sighing silently with relief, he hugged it close to himself and slowly drifted to sleep...

+++

A small bird jumped on the branch, greeting the morning sun with a melodic whistle.
Garland woke up, first as always.
Actually, he was not really the first since Vilbert was awake, but the vampire simply didn't slept. So technically...

The man yawned and stretched, trying to think of today's plans despite of his sleepy mind. First, he would rub his armor while the others still slept, and then he would prepare an omelette so breakfast would be ready when they wake up.
Yeah, that was a nice plan.
Just a little kiss to Mister FuzzyDoombringer and he would be up and ready to commence the day.
Garland shuffled in his covers to find his stuffed bear.

+++

The morning bird looked on the ground for the morning worm that would be his first meal. He had just found one under a leaf that looked particularly juicy, and just as he was about to pick it, an inhuman scream scared him away.

"NOOOOOO! SOMEONE HAS STOLEN MISTER FUZZYDOOMBRINGER !!!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sorry if it was so long!!! O________o
I got carried away! n_n""

Tough, the DW seem to suffer from mysterious robbers! What's going on? Is it going to continue? Will Garland ever find Mr FuzzyDommbringer alive? Will Drizz'l find out who stole his clothing?
Oh, so much mysteries, and the rest...that's up to the next writer! ^^
*winks*

Hope it was not too boring!
((I'm sorry everyone if some parts are weird, and if I do lots of errors in stuff like the past tense, but I'm not taking English classes since a year and it starts to show signs. ._." Also, I've been told my dialogues are complicated but it's the way we write them in French so that's the way I write them.
Tough i've added "" around them so it would look clearer to you all. ^^" Sorry for the inconvenience!))

[Seran]

That was hilarious, right there! I laughed constantly throughout the whole thing...it's just plain funny. Mister FuzzyDoomBringer...

[CelebrenIthil]

*rubs back of head*

Eh, thank you very very much!!! ^^"""
I'm relieved, I was not sure it would be funny.
(Hey, I'm not safe writting in English, gimme a chance!) :sweatdrop
((the only fanfiction I've written in English impling blood splattered walls and mass murder... .___.))

Thanks a lot, whew! ^^

And uh, Mister FuzzyDoombringer was a sudden inspiration when I tried to doodle Garland. (y'know, since I'm gonna rolepaly him, I tought I should try to draw him in anime style but I was not in the mood to make armor so I started doing him in little hearties boxers in bed with a Teddy Bear - hence Mr FDB. ^^ The name came instantly ._. )

Also, I've modified "Evil Teal Aquamarine" for "Mean Teal Aquamarine" 'cause that made too many "evil" in a short paragraph.
._.
But that too was a tough I've had previously, what kind of a weird color is the armor of Garland? O.o
http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v103/TheSilverstar/Garland.jpg <<Teh quick badly-resized MS Paint doodle!
Most unusual... XD

lol, anyway, I can't wait to see what's coming next, in both this and your BM's nightmare story! ^^
*tapdances*

[Seran]

Heh, in the 8-Bit RPG forums, I've lately started editting whatever grammatical errors were in your posts...aheh...

Next nightmare update!

+++

“Who was…what?”
“Blood, Fighter. I can smell it all the way from here. You’ve hurt someone.”
“I –”
“Who was it, and why?”
“It –”
“You’d better have a good reason.”
“It was…it was one of my friends, Black Mage.”
Vargus’s head seemed to limp over.
“He stabbed me in the head, so I took out a sword and slashed his eyes out.”
An eerie chuckle followed, and Fighter blinked as Vargus raised his head, laughing.
“It’s about time he was taught a lesson.”
“You – you really think so?”
“He’s brought woe to many people. Of course I think so, Fighter.”
“Cool. Anyway, when did you get here?”
“About an hour ago…”
Black Mage had decided to watch Red Mage. When were they going to get to the point?
“I said patience!” Red Mage exclaimed irritably.
“Now, Fighter, I want you to prove to me that you’re fit to be emperor.”
“How?”
“In battle.”
“That’ll be easy! Who’s the chump I’ve gotta fight?”
Vargus smiled, and almost lazily, he turned around as he lifted his sword from the ground. As he did, they could clearly see a ridiculous amount of scabbards across his back, piled over one another. Black Mage was astounded like Fighter, failing to count just how many swords were on his back. By the gods, he was wearing more than five swords! It was completely insane, but not to the master.
“Me.”
There was an overwhelming silence, with Vargus holding his case aside so that they may see the many scabbards on this back more clearly.
“I have to fight you? But…how many swords are you gonna use?” Fighter asked incredulously.
“Do I have to count for you?” Vargus answered aggressively. He spun around, his expression suddenly filled with the rage of war. He released his torn cape, allowing it to flutter back down, and his left hand flew back, gripping one of the swords wildly. His thumb held onto a second and he swiftly unsheathed both. Vargus did the same with two others, then a fifth sword. He was actually wielding five swords in his left hand! He was already holding one in his right, but Vargus unsheathed four more, and with both hands, drew out an additional sword for each, then placed their hilts behind his canine teeth. There were two swords in his jaws, five in each hand, and a frighteningly dangerous appearance. He was actually going to use twelve swords on Fighter.
“What technique is that? That’s badass!”
Vargus couldn’t speak through the two hilts in his teeth. He glared at Fighter irritably, but removed them from his mouth nonetheless.
“Zodiac of Exile,” he explained. Fighter unsheathed his own four blades, ready to prove his worth against the mighty Zodiac of Exile. In the battle awaited four in the hands of a student, against twelve in the grip of his mentor.
“This should be entertaining,” said Red Mage. He brushed his hair away from the orb, keeping the strands behind his ear.
Fighter tried to control his breathing in an attempt not to seem subdued. He looked at Vargus, whose pose was calm yet his face twisted into that of a beast, with menacing claws and fangs that were his swords. He seemed unsure to the choice of taking the first strike. Black Mage waited patiently, curious to see what would happen next.
Blind gleams of the swords flashed through the air, and a red blur sprinted all around Fighter wherever he went. Eventually, he picked up the pace, adding to the quick motion of the fight. Vargus himself was a whirlwind of wrath, like a wild animal competing for sheer survival and only survival. Fighter, knowing he easily could have been outmatched, was being very careful and defensive. Every time he was attacked, he managed to defend himself with his own swords, and would take a jab at Vargus before darting away to lead him elsewhere. One of them ended up getting a deep cut right across their face, leaving a slash of red across their nose. It didn’t seem too dangerous to leave a permanent scar, but they saw it had been landed on Vargus, who only became more aggressive with the battle. Red Mage was needlessly commenting little bits throughout the whole thing. If Black Mage had either his knife or his magic, he would’ve made Red Mage shut up somehow. They watched Fighter collapse in the midst of the battle, and nearly get his entire body impaled right to Hell, but he rolled just at a point where it seemed Vargus had hesitated for one split second, before he plunged his ten swords in the ground. While Fighter was rolling away, he hastily grabbed one of the swords from his mouth and flung it skillfully at Fighter. The blade caught the young warrior by the cape, who let out a barking yelp like a dog as he was snagged. Black Mage couldn’t help but laugh. It wasn’t so bad after all. By the end of the battle, Vargus was exhausted from wielding so many swords, but the scratches he had on him was the cut across his face, the small slash towards his neck, and a few assaults in his right arm. The rest of him was completely untouched. Fighter, meanwhile, was completely bloodied, and he was swaying uneasily on the spot in the corner of the garden, but he still seemed ready to fight. None of them tried to notice all the blood splattered on the poor flowers and grass. Vargus bowed his head for a moment, took his swords from his mouth, and slowly sheathed them all in their scabbards. That indicated the end of the battle session.
“Very good, Fighter,” he said rather harshly, broken by his controlled breathing. Black Mage figured that his lungs were paining through the extreme use of his swords. “Still determined, I see.”
“Yeah, I bet!” Fighter taunted back at his teacher. It sounded more like a show off to Vargus nonetheless, and he laughed.
“Yes, yes, whatever you say. Now you should find someone who can clean up this mess.” Vargus gestured to the blood around him, then turned and departed, clutching his face. Black Mage, by then, was on the ground, laughing his head off at the suffering inflicted between them. The vision faded from the orb, and Red Mage stared down at him.
“You do know what that means, right?”

[CrotchKnocker]

Both of your stories are GOLD man! Keep the comedy going!!!:D :D

[DarkCORN!]

Seran, both your artwork and writing are the work of a god. I...I love you.
Keep up the good workOR ELSE!.

[Seran]

Oh, no, I'm not that good. I still have much to improve on.

+++

"What is it?" Vilbert asked suddenly, popping his head into Garland's tent. Bikke was too lazy to respond by even waking up at least a little. The vampire glanced around, noticing Garland throwing various items everywhere in a furious search to find some sort of beloved object. "Who is this Fuzzy Doom Bringer of whom you speak?" he added, alarmed to see such a neat person like Garland creating a great mess in his own tent. Garland had just thrown his covers onto Bikke, who had finally reacted to the scene by muttering wildly and struggling in the blankets, rolling around as Vilbert watched with bewildered eyes.
"Noooo!" Garland sobbed, collapsing onto his knees. He covered his hidden face with his hands, crying over the absence of his evil teddy bear. Vilbert quickly raced over to him, kneeling by his side and patting his back in an attempt to console him.
"Just tell me what happened," Vilbert said, but before he could get an answer, Garland had violently grabbed Bikke by the front collar of his dirty shirt and shook him wildly.
"What did you do with Mister FuzzyDoomBringer?" he asked hysterically.
"Who?" Bikke replied cluelessly, only resulting in getting himself shaken insanely again.
"Where is he? I want Mister FuzzyDoomBringer back! I want him back, you hear!" Garland cried loudly, scaring Vilbert out of the tent. The vampire dashed out, rubbing his arm and looking up at the light stretching across the sky. The sun was due to rise and fall on him anytime soon. He walked away to seek out Drizz'l, who had snuck away to sit near the creek that was not too far from the camp.

+++

The dark elf was seated by the creek, listening to its quiet murmurs with Vilbert's coat wrapped around his miserable body. He stared down at the pure water, glaring at his own dark reflection, his white hair still visible as ever. Angry, he slapped his hand across the water's surface, sending a few trails of the water aside back into the creek. He shut his eyes, resting them as he felt the shadows of the trees around him. How he hated summer. The green leaves waved merrily in the wind, mocking him by seeming so happy when he was tormented by the other Dark Warriors. As he opened his eyes, he heard someone coming, someone humming, and saw their shadow dancing. He squinted, not familiar with the figure. He could tell it had a cape, and yet the voice sounded creepily familiar. He glanced up as he noticed someone emerge from the trees, dancing and humming quite merrily to himself. The person stopped as they, too, noticed a figure in their presence. As soon as the stranger opened his eyes to Drizz'l, the dark elf recognized him, and he pointed violently at Fighter, his eyes shut and his mouth hanging open.
He really, really wanted to scream, "Give me back my swords, you miserable human, so that I may slice your new body in half and use your head to impale on a stake so that I may use it to intimidate the others and give them a reason to fear me!"
But instead, having realized Fighter's new costume the very moment Fighter had appeared, Drizz'l shouted, "Where in the name of the dark caves of the Picturesque Forest of Trees did you get that?"
Fighter blinked hard at him, not recognizing the dark elf. The voice was familiar, as was the hair, but the coat was new.
"Uh...somewhere, I guess."
Drizz'l lowered his arm, trembling with suppressed anger. "Do you recognize me?"
"Nnnnope."

[DarkCORN!]

Can I try?

+++
The fighter blinked twice then said "Oh...wait...I think...no...WAIT!...no...OH YEAH! wait...no. WAI-"
"Are you done?" he was interrupted by Drizz'l
"No...WAIT!-"
"Shut up!" said the dark elf impatiently. He was now standing, Vilbert's cloak hung around his ankles. He shivered. It was freezing out there. "My name-" he said, shivering "is Drizz'l!"
"Oh yeah! Elfy McElf guy! Now I remember!" said Fighter.
"Now give me back my swords you bag of flesh!"
"I kinda need em..." Fighter said, trailing off.
"What do you mean?" Drizz'l hissed.
Fighter held up Drizz'ls swords, each chained to one of his own.
"YOU DIRTY-" Drizz'l stopped as he heard the clank of someone in armor running towards them. "Is that...It sounds like GarlanOW!" Garland failed to stop before his momentum caused him to hit Drizz'l, sending them both into the water. Drizz'l instantly resurfaced, easily keeping afloat. Several air bubbles broke the surface where Garland had landed. Followed by a few gurgles.
"What?"
more gurgles
"What do you mean you can't breathe? Mr. Fuzzydoombringer? What?"
still more gurgles
"Hold on" Drizz'l said as he dived underneath, then returned, moments later, with a sopping wet Garland clinging to his back. Garland climbed onto Drizz'l's head, then jumped onto the dry land. He missed, however, by an inch, and found himself half in and half out of the water. He screamed and tried to claw himself onto land. Drizz'l gave him a shove and he flew onto dry land, then rolled into a tree. Drizz'l climbed up himself.
"Now what were you babbling about?" said Drizz'l
+++
What do you think, Seran?

[Seran]

I liked it! It was funny, especially with the "Elfy McElf" part! You're not so bad, DarkCorn.

[CrotchKnocker]

I thought it was great too. only one thing bothers me though...
none of the darkwarriors can swim. none.
great story though!

[DarkCORN!]

According to Seran's story in the 8-bit fanfics thread, elves can swim very well.

[CrotchKnocker]

I guess they do, but good story either way. I NEED MORE!!!!!!!!1

actually i was refering to Brain's 8-bit, but nvm.

[DarkCORN!]

I think its Celebrenithil's turn. Is that how you spell it?
And, Seran, what do you mean not SO bad? Why would you think I was bad?

[Seran]

Yes, that is how you spell CelebrenIthil. Dno't worry, she'll post soon whenever she feels like it.
I assume elves are good swimmers because they're good at everything else...except for offering consideration to other races...

[DarkCORN!]

Next part up cause I got bored at school today and wrote it down on notebook paper.

+++
"My teddy!"

shouted Garland as he ran towards Drizz'l. He stopped in front of the dark elf and pointed at him. In his bad guy voice, Garland said ominously-

" You didn't take him, did you? If you did, that would be very BAD for you."

In his mind, Garland pictured Drizz'l's punishment. Bikke, Vilbert, and Garland sat at a table, eating pie, while Drizz'l sat in a corner, his back turned, wearing a dunce hat. "Mwahaha." Garland chuckled to himself. Drizz'l stepped past Garland, then shoved him into the water.

"Whatever, I'm going to get breakfast."

Garland splashed around violently, then clambered up onto shore and started to cry. Drizz'l walked up to the camp, sat down on a stump, and grabbed a piece of bacon. Bikke and Vilbert sat across from him. Drizz'l wore a frown on his face.

"Arr. What be the matter laddy?" said Bikke.

"Nothing. Our ingenious, evil "leader" has lost his teddy bear." he said with a snarl.

He munched on a piece of bacon. Garland, sopping wet, approached the camp and sat down on a stump. "Jerk." he said to Drizz'l, half sobbing. A few seconds later, he started to cry violently.

"OH!...I'M SO SORRY! I SHOULDN'T HAVE SAID THAT!" he leaned on Drizz'l's shoulder. The tears soaked through Vilbert's coat. Drizz'l shoved Garland into the fire. Garland started to roll around violently, shaking and screaming.

He screamed "AAAAH! Help! HELP! HELP!

[Seran]

I laughed for quite a while on that one!

+++

While Drizz'l departed, having shoved Garland into the water, Fighter too turned his back and returned to his own little camp where his fellows were to be. He had instantly dropped his little "Humming and dancing" act because he didn't need it. As he was told directly by their leader, all he had to do was fake innocent frolicking through the forest, find the Dark Warriors, and report back. He didn't like the "frolicking" part, though. It just sounded moronic, even for him. He snuck along, creeping past trees and slipping beneath bushes the same way a snake would. Well, if he could distinguish a person from their footsprints, could wield swordchucks without hurting himself, could weave a web of complicated words that related to the complex ways of reality, and could read some unknown language Black Mage couldn't translate, he could most certainly slip under bushes like a snake without emitting any loud, alarming sounds. He soon found himself in the camp of his fellow Light Warriors and saw Thief standing in the middle, waiting expectantly for him behind the campfire. Red Mage had yet to awaken, and Black Mage was out "hunting", although Fighter felt he couldn't trust Black Mage all the way out in the forest. He had seen Black Mage use his Hadoken on a bee one time.
He ran up, holding his ruined cape, which had torn from a branch during the mission. Thief waited for the report patiently.
"Not too far from here," Fighter told him with a blank expression, still clutching his cape. "They have no clue we're gonna ambush them. Had a run-in with Drizz'l though."
"How'd it go?"
"He tried to kill me, but the Garland dude kinda ran into him."
"Good...good...we attack at sundown!"
"But what about RM and BM? Don't they know?"
Thief looked over his shoulder towards the tents of the two mages.
"I'm well-assured they know."
+++
Bikke was laughing uproariously as Garland burned, for a second time, in the fire that had been set up. Vilbert sighed rather irritably, shaking his head while Drizz'l watched Garland burn, and Bikke rolled around on the ground a bit, clutching his stomach in laughter. The vampire walked over to Drizz'l, looking down with tired eyes.
"Can you give me my coat back?"
"No."
"Fine."
Vilbert turned around, then looked down at Garland, who had rolled out of the fire, clutching his helmet while he screamed his head off like a little girl. Vilbert merely stared for a long time, speechless, while he absorbed Garland's pain, anger, and sorrow. Eventually, though, he couldn't take the screaming anywhere, and so he turned towards one of the tents. He strode away quickly, disappeared into the tent, while Drizz'l watched him and Bikke continued to point and laugh. Drizz'l glanced back to the whimpering Garland, who was basically hugging himself by then. There was a pause, during which Vilbert remained absent, Garland continued to weep to himself, and Bikke's cackling finally started to settle. The dark elf cast his gaze over them for a strangely quiet and long time, saying nothing as he listened for an approaching stranger. There was no one. He, however, remembered Fighter and had a murderous urge to stab Fighter violently in his sleep.
However, he wasn't going to be the murderous one.
Vilbert emerged from his tent, clutching a large wooden chair, which had a fat kitchen knife attached to the end. "Taste the fury of my banished wrath, ye imbeciles of torment!!" he screamed, his eyes shut with his pouring anger.

[DarkCORN!]

Heh. I was thinking you were going to make Vilbert write poetry about Garland's pain.

+++
WHAP! The chair connected with Garland's helmet. The ringing caused him to throw off his helmet, revealing a second one, exactly identical to the first, underneath. Bikke swung his sabre, swiping the kitchen knife off into the woods. Vilbert swung wildly, eyes closed, with no abandon for anyone(including his own)'s safety. Drizz'l hid in a tree off to Vilbert's left. Vilbert's wild swinging drove him closer to the tree. When he got close enough, Drizz'l dropped on him, then grabbed his arm, twisted it, put it behind his back, and put his own arm across Vilbert's throat. Drizz'l sat in the chair.
"Now are you going to calm down?" He said, tightening his grip on the vampire's throat.
Vilbert was still wound up, but managed a slight nod, accompanied by a muffled "Uh huh." Drizz'l released the vampire, who, with superhuman speed, grabbed the chair, causing Drizz'l to fall in the mud. Vilbert bashed Drizz'l on the skull with the chair. Drizz'l fell back, unconscious.
+++
"Drizz'l" "Wake up Drizz'l" said a heavenly voice beside the dark elf.
"I SAID WAKE UP DAMMIT!" the heavenly voice delivered a heavenly kick to Drizz'l's ribs. He screamed in agony as he awoke. There over him stood Lithil, Dark Elf God and total hottie.
"DO-WHATNOW? Lithil? Am I dead?" he said, confused.
"No, dimwit, now get out of the mud." Drizz'l noticed he was sitting in a small pool of mud amongst the infinite nothingness he was now in. He stood up. "Okay. Why am I here?" he said.
"I have brought you here to make you infinitely more powerful. You will be able to destroy your enemies with a mere thought. Now hold still." The Dark God raised her hands, and a black light surrounded them (her hands). It fired, but just before it reached Drizz'l, he awoke.
+++
"Yar. Maybe he be dead." said Bikke to Garland. Drizz'l sat up. Garland was sitting in a chair. Bikke stood over him, holding the leg of a chair, covered in blood. Drizz'l wondered why his head hurt so much. Vilbert was tied to a tree, fangs exposed, gnawing on the rope that held him in place. Drizz'l put his hand on his head. It made a noise when he did so. SQUISH. Like the sound of a bug being squashed on the floor.

[Seran]

Reading these things make me laugh...

Oh, wait. Drizz'l has been granted power like Black Mage has?

[CrotchKnocker]

oooooooooooooooooooooook....

Drizz'l put his hand on his head. It made a noise when he did so. SQUISH. Like the sound of a bug being squashed on the floor.

squish? wow, thats insane man.:gonk:

[DarkCORN!]

no, Seran. He is going to be pissed since they woke him up right before he gained ultimate power.

[Seran]

Huh. Figured when I read it over again. But yes. He will be pissed. Deeply pissed.

But at least it was Vilbert who knocked him unconscious in the first place.

[DarkCORN!]

Are you going to make more of BM's nightmare?

[Seran]

Yes, but I need more time. I've started losing inspiration since Wednesday for the story.

[DarkCORN!]

You can borrow some of my inspiration! *hands inspiration*

[Quickman X]

He had seen Black Mage use his Hadoken on a bee one time.
Perhaps it's simply my adoration of the word "bee" (you ask, you die), but I found that disorientingly hilarious.
In the meantime, I'ma try part of the DM story. It'll be short, mind, as I only have a limited amount of Internet time.
~
"So," said Fighter mildly, folding his arms. "What's the plan?"
An awkward pause followed, punctuated by Thief's exasperated groan. "Fighter, you really are an imbecile (Fighter, at this point, gave the ninja a rather wounded look). We've reviewed the plan of attack at least seven times, and each time you were looking around, playing with your cape, or fidgeting with leaves. It's not my fault that you--"
"Ssh. I'll handle this." Red Mage smiled resignedly, kneeling down beside Fighter. "Okay. What do you remember of the strategy?"
Fighter raised an eyebrow, lowering the other in an attempt to look thoughtful. He failed miserably, merely looking rather comical. "I was... I was supposed to... I dunno, something about swords." He abruptly jerked his head to the side as a steel blade flashed through the air where it had just been. "Relax, BM, I seriously don't remember. I'm trying, though..." His voice once again trailed off into thought, his topaz eyes closed in concentration. Red Mage poked him unenthusiastically, trying in vain to draw his attention.
"Fighter. Fighter. Hey, Fighter. I'll explain it, just listen. ...Fighter McWarrior, pay attention!"
"Huh...?"
"I said, pay... oh, you're listening. Good. Now, we're going to, to put it simply, ambush 'em. Any objections?" No response.
"I... don't think he knows what you mean by 'objections,' RM," muttered Thief cautiously, tugging at his scarf.
"Oh. In that case... you have any... what's the word... ah, yes, any complaints, any problems?"
The knight responded with an absent-minded shrug, his cape rippling. "Nah, sounds good."
"Great. Anybody else?" Thief shook his head, but Black Mage wasn't where he had just been standing. Both the hybrid mage and the ninja glanced around momentarily, but it was Fighter who first felt his friend in the form of a gloved hand settling on his shoulder.
"Hey, BM, how'd you get there? You teleport or something?"
"No," hissed the necromancer nastily, "you just weren't paying attention... which can prove to be..." Red Mage shuddered. Black Mage's tone was disconcertingly malicious.
"Can prove to be... what?" The being of pure hatred turned one glowing yellow eye on Thief, the poser of the question.
"...fatal."
Fighter opened his mouth as if to reply, but no words came out... just a thin trickle of blood. Slowly, a mask of shock covering his face, he looked down.
Two inches of steel, stained with blood, protruded from Fighter's chest -- the point of Black Mage's trusted knife.
"That's what you get for not watching," sneered the sorcerer. "Some lookout you are." Adjusting his grip on the hilt of the knife, he twisted sharply. Blood spurted through the air as Fighter slumped forward, choking on the thick crimson liquid welling up in his throat.
With a sickening rasp of metal on metal, the mage jerked the blade free of the knight's back, its full length dripping red.
"Just as I said... so, Fighter, how does that feel? Does it hurt? ...good."
The warrior was down on one knee, his gauntleted hand pressed against the wound in a vain attempt to stop the deluge of blood, now flowing freely. Suddenly his whole body tensed, and he doubled over, coughing violently. His dark companion smirked.
"Black Mage." The voice was dull, flat, and came from Red Mage. "Do you realize what you have just done?"
"What? I killed your... friend?" The last word was spat with contempt and a small, bitter chuckle that wavered and died as, with an inhuman display of effort and stamina, Fighter half-forced himself to his feet, only to collapse again. Black Mage made an unhappy tsk sound at the movement. "Make that almost killed."
"You... you... delayed our ambush plan!" Within five seconds of the last word, both BM and Thief had attempted a classic faceplant, collided, and fallen over backwards. "I'm out of magic, we don't have any potions that I know of, and this is going to take a while to heal."
Nursing his aching head, Thief softly murmured what was on his mind at the moment: "Black Mage, you damn idiot."


Drizz'l raised his head, sniffing the air. Garland looked at him curiously.
"What is it?"
"I smell... blood. Something's happened...." He grinned, revealing startlingly pointed fangs. "Something good.
~
Crappy, but, seeing as I typed it up at midnight, it could be worse. I'll probably just delete it later on...:sweatdrop
::edit:: ...I... have... no recollection of typing this... almost. ...oh, an' I know BM's not a necromancer. They manipulate corpses, for crying out loud. I just wanted to call 'im one, possibly because of his morbid tendencies...
::return of the edit:: Added a little more violence. Jus' felt like it.

[Kila_angel]

hn.....pretty good. That was strange, in a good way.

[DarkCORN!]

"No," hissed the necromancer nastily, "you just weren't paying attention... which can prove to be..." Red Mage shuddered. Black Mage's tone was disconcertingly malicious.
Um...BM's not a necromancer. He's a blue/ black mage.

[Seran]

But he's similiar to a necromancer through the behavior of his magic.

I liked that...and it especially scared me where Fighter got the knife stuck through his chest! Oh, and Drizz'l, Drizz'l has fangs, omigawd, fangs fangs fangs fangs....

Hehe. I'll be fine.

Anyway, I wonder...anyone else thinking...Bahamut?

[CelebrenIthil]

Okaaaaaay....

Well, you guys have totally lost me... ._______.
*shrugs*
Hmm, ignore me, just go on! :sweatdrop
I'll probably continue to read. Have fun!

Oh, and I hope you get your inspiration back Seran. ^^"""
But, eh, take the necessary time...n_n

[Seran]

Lost you on where? ...Yeah, you're right. A few parts got kinda weird, but hey.

+++

“It – it means they’re both total dumbasses!” Black Mage cackled. “Zodiac of Exile? More like Crapiac of Exile!”
“BM, I strongly suggest – ”
“All-out beating on each other! Hah! Twelve swords, that’s ridiculous! That’s even more stupid than Fighter’s sword-chucks!”
“BM, did you even learn anything?”
Black Mage sat up, still chuckling. “Yeah. I learned Vargus was suicidal.”
“No,” Red Mage interrupted rather calmly, “that means from having two capable people watch his violent demonstration, two more people can learn how to use Zodiac of Exile. Since I’m one of those people, I know how to use it. Now, listen – ”
“What, you’re gonna get twelve swords and trip over your wings?”
“No. You saw how Vargus beat Fighter to a bloody pulp.”
“Yeah.”
“You have a weaker defense score than Fighter.”
“Hey!”
“That means here, you can get your ass handed to you on a fanciful silver platter.”
Black Mage fell silent.
“Back there, you could’ve gotten your ass whupped straight to space twice.”
He remained silent in the words of Red Mage's all-powerful wisdom.
“Good.”
“Does he like chocolate?” Celebren called from down in the kitchen.
“Do you like chocolate?”
Black Mage nodded in a stunned response.
“He does!”
I’m doomed, Black Mage thought quietly to himself. Oh, indeed. He was doomed.
“Well,” Red Mage said, the orb vanishing from his hands, “take a rest, night comes quicker than you know.” The Orb of Sight disappeared as it had spun in some direction, shrinking and fading away swiftly. Once it was gone with a mere pop, Red Mage turned around and walked out of the room. He shut the door behind him, leaving the magickless spellcaster alone in the room full of artifacts and treasures. Black Mage stood there, gazing around with a horrified glow in his eyes, and he slowly backed away into the chair that made him so comfortable. He sat down, drew his legs up to his chest, and wrapped his arms around them. Black Mage fell over so that he laid more on his side in the chair.
“Squeak.”
He gazed around with fright at the room around him, realizing that the three morons he had long sought to destroy were now each easily able to destroy him. He laid in the chair miserably, clutching his cloak around him tightly, his eyes wide as he gazed at the fire. He watched the embers dance for a long moment, the silence overwhelming, the light flickering. As he rested in the chair for a long moment, he could vaguely hear familiar voices.

For a moment, he felt himself abruptly pulled away into a different world, his consciousness torn from the nightmare to someplace where he felt terribly drowsy.

His vision was quite blurry, and he wasn’t sure if he was dreaming, was awake, or hd been dreaming but just still was. He saw someone stand over him in the moonlight, their shadow thrown onto him. He tried to lift his arm, but found he was too weak and too tired to. The figure was wearing a white robe with a red triangular pattern lining the edges of the sleeves, and the bottom of her robe, with her red hair glistening in the moonlight. He feebly stared, drifting back to slumber.
“Black Mage…?” she whispered, but her voice seemed so distant. The farther he fell back to the other world, the more faint voices he could hear.
“Is he okay?” he heard another voice ask.
“I don’t know…”
“Must be a bad fever,” commented a third voice.
“We can’t even see his face…” replied a fourth one.

He was suddenly on his feet, pacing back and forth in the room where Red Mage had left him. Black Mage didn’t remember pacing back and forth, but he was now, and he decided just to stick with it. He glanced up impatiently at the fire, then down at the carpet he trod on. Eventually, he heard someone open the door, so he turned and fled back to the chair, tackling it with full force. It toppled over, crashing into the floor with a loud, muffled racket, and Red Mage quickly jumped in with a platter of cookies balanced on one hand, with two plates of ham on the other. He saw that his beautiful chair had fallen.
“What are you doing?” he exclaimed, eyes wide. “Get up, quickly! And stand the chair up too!”
Black Mage groaned and rolled off the chair, off the side. He stopped on his knees, slid his hands under the chair’s back, and tried to lift it. The furniture was surprisingly light, even if it had made such a terrible noise when it had hit the floor. He stumbled for a brief moment, staring at the wall, his mind lost to the weightless chair. Red Mage walked in farther, looking at Black Mage for a short time before he handed him a plate of ham.
“Here.”
Black Mage held it flatly, staring at the wall.
“Is something wrong?”
There was no response.
“Are you traumatized?” Red Mage asked, poking him lightly in the side of the head. Black Mage merely leaned over for a moment, then slowly returned to a straight standing position. Red Mage stared at him, backed away a few steps, then walked out the door. Indeed, Black Mage was traumatized.

[Kila_angel]

Yay!! You got your inspiration back! I'm making a story, and it's called 'War of the...Warriors?!' I'll post the first chappie when I have more time...

[Seran]

No...no...I've been working on that the entire past week...

[Kila_angel]

-_- ok....here's the story!
++++
Chapter 1:The Nightmare Begins
The sounds of clanking armor was heard in the deserted hall of the house. Fighter McWarrior and.....Garland were looking at some kind of machine. both went inside of the machine and pressed the button inside....and......
Bam! A large army of Fighters and Garlands were hustling out of the machine,out the building......back into the inn where the Light and Dark Warriors were sleeping, and where WM and BB were, too.

Black Mage woke to some really annoying sounds,and got his knife out. The other Light Warriors were up, too. So were some other people(WM,BB,Dark Warriors,some of us people in forums, and some OCs).
"My god,WHAT THE HELL is that sound?!" Luna screamed(an OC),as she busted in the LW's room with her trusty 'Serpent's Tongue' spear. Seran was looking sleepily in the room,and with Luna, they both screamed, "WHAT IS AN ARMY OF FIGHTERS,AND GARLANDS DOING HERE?!?!" The others looked on, and saw the clones of Garland and Fighter talking pointlessly,from swords to "MR. FUZZYDOOMBRINGER!!!" to being good or bad.

[Seran]

Nice...a clone army of Fighter and Garland. I didn't expect myself to be in there...but yes. I would be hysteirc.

Not to the point of screaming my head off though.

I think. I do scream at certain times. But not in times like this. But loads of Fighters and Garlands would creep me out majorly.

[CelebrenIthil]

Lost you on where? ...Yeah, you're right. A few parts got kinda weird, but hey.

Well, with all the sudden changes of characters and behavior, the random acts of violence, the weird parts about evil superpower given by weird gods and the vampire bitting-ness or something...I kinda got lost. ._.
I'm not able to continue the story, I'm not even sure I've understood correctly what's happening and what is supposed to happen after all that happened... kinda... O___.



“What, you’re gonna get twelve swords and trip over your wings?”
lol!
He remained silent in the words of Red Mage all-powerful wisdom. “Good.”
“Does he like chocolate?” Celebren called from down in the kitchen.
“Do you like chocolate?”
Black Mage nodded in a stunned response.
“He does!”
I’m doomed, Black Mage thought quietly to himself. Oh, indeed. He was doomed.
xD xD xD Heheheh, so very funny, that intervention deserves an award. :whee:
*hug you*

Yay! Now I know BM likes chocolate! xD


His vision was quite blurry, and he wasn’t sure if he was dreaming, was awake, or hd been dreaming but just still was. He saw someone stand over him in the moonlight, their shadow thrown onto him. He tried to lift his arm, but found he was too weak and too tired to.

Nooooes!!!11 Don't wake up!!! O.o

Red Mage quickly jumped in with a platter of cookies balanced on one hand, with two plates of ham on the other.
Ham and cookies! xD Yays!


Black Mage held it flatly, staring at the wall.
“Is something wrong?”
There was no response.
“Are you traumatized?” Red Mage asked, poking him lightly in the side of the head. Black Mage merely leaned over for a moment, then slowly returned to a straight standing position. Red Mage stared at him, backed away a few steps, then walked out the door. Indeed, Black Mage was traumatized.
Eat your cookies BM, you'll feel better. ^^

lol, I'm glad you finally were able to write, don't worry, it is as good as always! ^^ I still wonder where all of this is going on, but with BM's sudden regain of counsciousness... (temporarly...)
Well well, you know I love your story!
Keep on the good job!


the clones of Garland and Fighter talking pointlessly,from swords to "MR. FUZZYDOOMBRINGER!!!" to being good or bad.

lol!!! You've added Mr. FuzzyDoombringer! xD
Yaaaayyyy!!!
*happy gig*

[Seran]

Muahaha.
Dark Warriors - continued!

+++

"Something...good?" Vilbert repeated blankly. He focused his eyes on Drizz'l, failing to continue at chewing the ropes off of him, while he continued to slowly recover from the outpour of rage that had taken place earlier -- consisting of him trying to kill them with a chair, that is. He felt rather ashamed of himself. However, he wanted to know more about what Drizz'l was thinking about, what Drizz'l meant by blood and what he meant by good. Drizz'l answered him with a dark, mysterious smile, no longer exposing his fangs, but his eyes were piercing the vampire in a most disturbing way, as though Drizz'l was attempting to take a glance into Vilbert's distorted mind -- and was winning. Vilbert squirmed in the ropes uneasily. Drizz'l continued to merely stare at him, stare with his dark elf's gaze, with that evil eye that could make any human cower. And although Vilbert was no human, he nervously tried to bite the ropes off again like before. Garland glanced between the two, lost and uncertain of what had just happened.
"Are you okay?" Garland asked, reaching out towards Drizz'l. The dark elf aggressively grabbed Garland by the wrist, his smile falling into a scowl, and he turned onto Garland, turning his head and forcing his gaze onto him instead.
"Don't touch me," he hissed. "Or I'll call one of my friends."
"But we're your friends," Garland answered. Oh, how confused he was! He had no clue as to what, exactly, Drizz'l was talking about, and he blinked at the dark elf, starting to succumb beneath the pressure of his disturbing gaze. Garland froze, swallowing down his dry throat, having completely forgotten about Mister FuzzyDoomBringer. They both stood there, motionless, staring each other down. Garland tried to decipher the reason that Drizz'l was acting so unusual, so unnatural, while Vilbert chewed his ropes apart and Bikke had disappeared in the bushes for a while. Once the last rope had been seperated, the vampire collapsed onto the ground, falling on the palms of his hands and onto his knees. He raised his head, watching Drizz'l make Garland fidget nervously in his grip.
Eventually, Garland pulled his arm away.
"Whatever," he muttered with more evil tone. His voice grew dark, as he had finally realized that something serious was at hand. "Tell me what you're planning, Drizz'l."
The turning of the mood startled Vilbert, who quickly gathered himself up. He looked at the two, staying within the shade of the trees.
"They're out there somewhere," Drizz'l answered flatly. "The Light Warriors. Not too long ago, I ran into Fighter. You saw him, right?"
"Not that I recall."
"By the river."
"The one you pushed me in?"
"Yes."
Garland remained in his spot, his back on Drizz'l. "...You didn't have to say yes."
"I know."
Garland glowered for a moment, but decided to ignore the response. "You were saying?"
"I don't think he was just dancing through the woods, lost," Drizz'l replied. "I think he was up to something. He wasn't too far from the camp of his fellow Light Warriors. I say we check them out."
"Arr!" From the trees did Bikke emerged, looking rather refreshed. "Nothing more relaxing than a -- "
"If it has something to do with the bushes or the base of a tree," the dark elf quickly interrupted, "don't say it." Exasperated, he looked back to Garland with an irritated expression. "Sharpen your weapons, get into shape, we're attacking immediately." Drizz'l turned around and retreated into his tent. Garland stood by the campfire, staring down at the burnt wood and the dying flames. He only stood there silently, reflecting on what a jerk Drizz'l was. Vilbert stood there, as though he was waiting for someone to say something to him, but when he watched Bikke return to his own tent, and Garland do the same, Vilbert stood there, abandoned. He was without his coat as well.
"The wave of despair that washes over me," he recited, "is cruel and forsakes my being."
+++
Fighter, with his golden eyes shut, clutched his bleeding wound as he coughed even more violently than before, blood spurting out from his throat. Black Mage's knife had come dangerously close to where his blood could leak, making him cough it out and putting the pressure of pain onto his lungs and chest. He collapsed onto his side, covering his mouth and still trying to stop the bleeding, while he coughed into his hand and Red Mage kneeled by him. Black Mage's stab had been much more effective than it had during all the previous attempts.
"Fighter," Red Mage spoke, "try not to move, okay?" He slowly drew out his character sheet, ready to change his class into something that he could use to fix up Fighter. Meanwhile, Thief was whacking Black Mage hard in the head with his fist, still sitting on the ground.

[DarkCORN!]

What's up with Drizz'l? The evil god chick didn't actually make him stronger. He woke up right before the beam hit.

[Seran]

Yeah, Drizz'l is just mad. Not really anything special except for him trying to be pissed off towards the others. Which worked.

[CrotchKnocker]

This is off topic and all that, but does one of these posts break any records as to how LONG they are? I NEED TO KNOW THIS!!!!!!!!

[Seran]

Break any records? It's not possible to break the limits, no. But I'm not sure about a record.

[DarkCORN!]

Well, there is a limit to how long a post can be. I think its like, 10,000 characters or something.

[Seran]

Something like that, yes.

Ooh...I found the perfect music for the desperate struggle between the Dark Warriors and Light Warriors....

[Kila_angel]

woooow.....Okay I can be here a few times a week becausew of...complications.....
Any good ideas for the peeps to escape the inn at my fanfic?
++++++++++++++++++++++
The Escape (chappie not completed,ideas please!)
"Sooooo....as leader of the Light Warriors, I say we.......bye!" Thief ran off,stealing from all the Fighter and Garland clones.
"Oh, you sonuva-" Chrisgun was whacked hard by Luna before he could finish the sentence. "Lets just nuke all of them," Kiba said. "NONONONO!!!! WE DO THAT!!!" Luna and BM screamed. "Fine, I'll make a plan to get outta here." RM said happily. "Fine do that while BB and I try to distract the clones." WM said. EPS replied,"Fine,I'm gonna try to get some weapon." "Oh, I'll help you,my sweet~"Chrisgun said with hearts for eyes,before Meghan hit him with his mallet. "Oh, screw you."

[Quickman X]

@Seran: Aw, nutbunnies. Does that mean we'll have to wait long for the update? ...by the way... what music did you choose?
@Kila Angel: A Hadoken through the wall. So, Fighter and Garland are evil now?
@Nobody in particular: Writing a little bit of violence on the subject of LW vs. DW m'self. Speaking of violence, added a bit onto my part of the story...:shifty:

[Seran]

Here, I'll clue you in.

Noli manere, manere in memoria,
Noli manere, manere in memoria,
Sephiroth!
Sephiroth!

Saevam iram, iram et dolorem,
Saevam iram, iram et dolorem,
Sephiroth!
Sephiroth!

+++

He slowly looked down at the ham on the plate, and merely stood there, gazing at it for an impossibly long time. Never had he been patient enough to just stand there for what felt like an hour. Just standing there, with the clock ticking down the minutes, when there wasn’t even a clock in the room to begin with. The fire was dying away, its light beginning to depart the room, and his gaze slowly wandered to the floor where he had seen something most curious. A small orb, gleaming in the glow of the flames, was lying upon the carpet.
Red Mage had left him his Orb of Sight.
Why would he do that?
Never mind why…he should just take it.
Black Mage knelt down carefully, with the plate balanced on his right hand, and he gently picked up the Orb of Sight in his left. How did the Orb of Sight work? Black Mage gazed upon the little sphere for a moment, absentmindedly taking a seat in the chair that had fallen a few moments ago, before being picked up soon after. He put the plate on the right arm of the chair, then held the orb in his lap, looking down at its pearly color and the glitters inside of it. Perhaps it connected with his mind or something.
Concentrate for a moment, instructed the familiar voice of Red Mage. Just concentrate on its color. When you feel a little numbness in your skull, just image the words of your request and it’ll take you to the desired location you want to look over. Then after that, just use your head to make the orb’s eyes navigate.
Well he couldn’t think with Red Mage thinking in his head! He shut his eyes, trying to concentrate while ignoring the echoes of Red Mage’s voice.
Let me give a suggestion. Why don’t you try, ‘Thief’s Hideout’?
Thief. Of course. He had forgotten about Thief! The bastard whom he freaking killed! But was Thief still alive? He immediately fumbled with the object in his hands, trying not to drop it in his haste just to see what was in Thief’s Hideout. He held it hard in his two gloved hands, staring fiercely into its depths, just thinking, thinking of the words ‘Thief’s Hideout’ so that he may see the confines of his enemy’s home. The orb’s eyes started to open to the image coming to life in its gaze. The pearly white color faded into a fortress’s room, possibly more magnificent and less armed than the one he stood in at that very moment. The room was a massive chamber with grey stone walls and golden emblems on red flags, draped over the walls and a fiery carpet rolling along the middle of the room. It was massive and a strange sight to behold. Trotting along that carpet was a massive, magnificent stallion, with the darkest of reds deep in its skin and scar-like stripes or crimson stretching across the front of its neck, with a mane that bore a convincing flame-like appearance and a tail much the same. The steed was merrily jogging back and forth, flicking its tail, tossing its head and snorting on an occasional moment. At one end of the chamber did two giant curtains, maroon with gold and violet designs glimmering all over them, hang from the walls, covering that end of the room and concealing the door. At the other end was just another wall with a gargoyle clawing out above the door, with a man’s face and open jaws, its mouth lined with razor stone teeth, and muscular arms leaping out with wicked talons for hands.
Black Mage silently told the orb to go to the curtains and go right through it, but before the orb’s gaze did this, he heard a familiar voice that sounded like it was behind him. Alarmed, he glanced behind him, but only the chair’s back was there. Black Mage hesitated for a slow moment, yet he snapped his attention back to the orb to see the vision fading away. Eek! he thought to himself with alarm. Hurriedly focusing, he tried to make the orb remain in the location Red Mage had suggested, and once the vision had brightened and cleared, he sighed with relief. The orb’s eyes spun around to see Thief kneeling to its eye level, his glowing bloodred eyes piercing whatever gloom there was. The pupils were the deepest black and had widened in the darkness of the room, for there was only one torch in the center of the chamber to light it all, and the mane of his stallion sending light upon the walls and floor.
“Hello,” Thief repeated, inclining his head curiously. Black Mage was confused. If Thief could see it, why couldn’t Fighter or Vargus? “You’re not Red Mage. Hey, BM, how’s it going? I’m doing mighty fine over here. Remember that time you ruled Hell for a really brief moment and shifted reality so that my contracts wouldn’t apply to you? Well, just think of it this way – an eye for an eye can equal a dime, but an eye for a head would cost the same tenfold.”
Ooh, he’s mad, commented Red Mage. Tell him I said hi! Tell Thief I said hi!
What, you crazy commando of feathers? What did you just tell me to do?
Come on, please?

[DarkCORN!]

"tell him I said hi! Tell thief I said hi!"
Oh my god, thats hilarious!

[MetalPsycho]

Yup, it's RM all right. Demi-god or not, that's him.

:P

I may join in if I can find the time to write anything. I have an idea I've been working on, but I haven't even thought of starting anything with it.

[Seran]

That’s it! You’re on his side, aren’t you? You’re against the empire?
No.
Black Mage sighed to himself at Red Mage’s refusal to admit he was in league with Thief, but he looked into the orb nonetheless and said, “Red Mage says hi,” with a dull and tired voice. Thief tilted his head to the other side.
“Oh, good, he is there then.”
“Yeah.”
“Why did you try to obliterate half of my army with your Hadoken? I thought you hated Fighter. I could’ve taken him down, but now I’m some minion short. Even if they are already being replaced in double speed and production…”
“Look, I’m not going to ask, but I didn’t know what was going on. I’m confused here.”
“So he told you nothing.”
“No, Fighter just sliced my eyes out after I stabbed him in the head. Then he left ‘cause White Mage was gone. Tell me, what is up with that?”
“No one told you?”
“Told me what?”
“That they’re married?”
Silence bled into that agonizing moment, the very last word that Thief had uttered, and Black Mage sat there with the Orb of Sight in his hands, stunned again. He was suddenly regretting the fact that he had even been rescued by Fighter after he had been trampled by Thief’s army and nearly bled to death, while smoking from the flames that had risen from the black grass and slowly fading away into a void of death. Or Hell. It could have been either one. But now he learned a horrifying truth that would normally drive him insane with anger. His meatshield, his ‘best friend’ betrayed him and married the one person, the only single person, he had ever loved or cared about in his entire life. He left him to wither out there in that big world, a realm of confusion and despair for him. Black Mage wanted to scream at Red Mage for not telling him earlier, but he couldn’t. Instead, he slumped in the chair and whimpered.
Sorry, Red Mage apologized in his most careless voice. I had forgotten to tell you what I saw, it was in Fighter’s bedroom and –
No, I think I know now, Black Mage moaned in his own head.
“You don’t look so swell,” Thief commented through the orb, his eyes blazing with crimson. “Care to talk about it?”
“No, shut up.”
“Whatever you say, BM. Oh, and tell Red Mage that I think someone set one of his curtains on fire. In the seventh level down.”
“Seventh le – what seventh level?”
Oh my god! Not again!
While Red Mage’s voice departed from Black Mage’s mind, Thief laughed rather…mirthlessly…from the other end of the orb.
“I’m going out to battle in but a few simple hours. I’ll obliterate Fighter and his girlfriend.”
“Please don’t say that.”
“Which part?”
“The girlfriend part.”
“Whatever. Meanwhile, it’s nighttime and Red Mage is going to want a walk with you.”
Wait, nighttime? That was impossible! Clearly, Thief was lying just to scare him. He started to roll the orb back and forth in his hands a bit, caught nervous and confounded. All this talk about battles and Hell and demi-gods and…it was just all so perplexing. He heard the sound of someone’s footsteps pounding along the corridor beyond the door, the sounds fading after they had practically knocked at the doorstep. The air whistled as though some wind was being left behind by the swift stranger. It had to be Red Mage. It had to be Red Mage. He took the plate of ham while Thief vanished from the orb’s gaze, leaving only the room behind, and Black Mage stuffed a piece of ham in his mouth just so shut himself up. He didn’t want to hear himself say anything anymore. He only watched Thief climb onto the back of the fiery steed and trot off, the stallion snorting as it was led away by its master. Meanwhile, someone else was at his door, and he said nothing. The knocking constantly came again and again, as though someone were patiently waiting for him to come to the door and open it. The sounds were driving him mad. Soon enough, the knocking became more impatient, and when he failed to answer, someone immediately twisted the doorknob and pushed the door open.
“Can’t you take the decency to say something? By the gods of the damned,” said Vilbert, frowning at Black Mage’s rudeness. “Anyway, th’lord wants you to bring your ham with you and come down to the seventh floor.” Alarmed, Black Mage’s attention snapped as the vision in the orb faded, and his eyes locked on the vampire’s red hair, dark outfit, and pale face. He gaped at Vilbert, trying to sort out the reason he was there. “Don’t stare. That’s rude as well.”
“What the hell are you doing here?”
“And cursing at me.”
“Why are you here? I would have guessed this was some haven for Red Mages! And where are the other Dark Warriors?” Black Mage exclaimed, his eyes widened with surprise.
Vilbert blinked in response, taking a moment merely to gaze back. Nonetheless, he hung his head and sighed. “They left me to die out in the fields. Threw Bikke down a canyon before that. I was afraid I was next…and I nearly was. Lord was kind enough to stumble along and take me in as a fellow roleplayer.”
“Stop calling him lord.”
“Shut up. I owe him, so I’ll call him lord if I want.”
Black Mage narrowed his yellow, glowing eyes and growled in hostility at Vilbert, but the vampire didn’t move. Instead, he returned the threat with an even more menacing hiss that sounded like a quiet, high-pitched shriek in the back of his throat. His jaw hung open and his lips pulled back, revealing his long, sharp vampire teeth, found on the top set in both sides as the third tooth from the front. Black Mage immediately silenced himself so as not to threaten him any more.
“Now get out of this room and go do as the lord said!”
“Fine, fine!” Black Mage answered irritably.

[Kila_angel]

“Look, I’m not going to ask, but I didn’t know what was going on. I’m confused here.”
“So he told you nothing.”
“No, Fighter just sliced my eyes out after I stabbed him in the head. Then he left ‘cause White Mage was gone. Tell me, what is up with that?”
“No one told you?”
“Told me what?”
“That they’re married?”
Poor, poor BM.....I knew WM and Fighter had some kind of relationship!!!
“Whatever you say, BM. Oh, and tell Red Mage that I think someone set one of his curtains on fire. In the seventh level down.”
“Seventh le – what seventh level?”
Oh my god! Not again!
Haha, that's a good one.
“I’m going out to battle in but a few simple hours. I’ll obliterate Fighter and his girlfriend.”
“Please don’t say that.”
“Which part?”
“The girlfriend part.”
Still caring for White Mage?
*People can write down parts of my story from this point...now back from where I left off*
+++++++
"Of course!!!" Red Mage was happily saying. "Oh god no,"thought BM as RM started to state his plan. "We can throw pillows outside that window, and jump into the pile!!" "Erm....what if there's no pillows..or pile?" White Mage and Celebren asked. "Well then, we could use white magic to heal, or use a spell to make something that'll shield the fall." Red Mage replied. "That still would hurt...." BB said unhappily. "Oh well, let's find cushions!!!"
2 hours later, a LOT of cushions and other soft stuff was thrown into a pile outside the inn. Everyone started jumping out when.....
"Hey!! Wait!! Wanna see my sword collection!?" A group of Fighter clones had actually spotted-no-noticed the group in the chaos. Because of this, the large group of clones started to get moving. "OH MY HEAVEN!!! GET OUT!!!!" Chrisgun was screaming like a girl...
When the group got outta the building, there was....traffic with the clones. Just imagine two classmates with many things going through a small doorway at the same time. Now, that was what it seemed like, just worse...
"Um...let's find a place to hide.." Quickman did not want to see what would happen next at the chaos in the window, but took a picture of those clones struggling. "Where to hide...where to hide..."Seran seemed to be fumbling with a list of places to hide, along with Luna and Celebren. "Ooh!! How about that town!! Henesys!!" Celebren asked. "I've been there with my friends and cousins...mushroom shaped houses...(from MapleStory)Ludibrum is all toys...(also from MapleStory)"Luna remarked. "Seems like a nice place," Thief said, just coming back from the pawn shop. "You can go to Kerning City.I think thieves like to go there." "Oh!! Perfect!! That place must have people to steal from!!" "Umm...yeah. Let's go there," RM and BM said.
At Henesys...........
"Wow,I could destroy this place in a-OW!!" BM was hit by White Mage, who was apparently pissed off by BM's ramblings about destruction. But then, the destruction of BM should not happen,because his Hadoken could help them all. Since the Dark Warriors were quiet, they should finally speak.
"Hey, any dungeon?" "Go north." "Yar, lassie, where's the port??" "Go southwest." "Okay, let's just settle down here in Henesys, with not too much destruction at least." Drizz'l said calmly, glaring at the more violent people of the group as he spoke.

[Quickman X]

Sorry, Red Mage apologized in his most careless voice. I had forgotten to tell you what I saw, it was in Fighter’s bedroom and –
No, I think I know now, Black Mage moaned in his own head.

...
....
.....
*faints*
OMG.
WTF.
*nosebleed*

[Seran]

Go ahead and pretend. It'll come back to haunt you all.

Nightmares always haunt whom they hunt.

-Reads over Kila_Angel's and thinks for a really brief moment.-

[DarkCORN!]

Continue the story or die. *shakes fist*

[Seran]

Which story? I see three stories available to me to continue...

...Please don't hurt me.

[DarkCORN!]

Black mage's nightmare. Finish it! grrrrrr! *shakes fist*

[Blue mage42666]

Yeah seran continue Black mages nightmare, its excellent writing. Ahem.... do you have a update schedule? you should lol
:bmage: urge to destroy world rising....

[DarkCORN!]

Yeah...no, just no, okay? Chatspeak=bad. Grammar and Punctuation=good. Okay?

[Skit]

So, this is kind of a weird slightly dramatic story I've been playing around with. It's not done yet. Takes place around 15 years after whenever the story ends. It's Fighter's journal after he's matured a little.

Doesn't sound so immature nor is it so poorly spelled... But whatever.


October 19th, 1:30 PM
How long has it been since I wrote in this journal? ... I suppose it must be 15 years by now. The last time was the night before it all happened. It still hurts to think about what happened the day that Black Mage tried to end the world. The day I killed him.

It's seems about time I started writing again.

I became a royal knight under King Steve for saving the world after I came back to Corneria. A few years ago, I was promoted; I'm now the Knight Captain. It's a pretty good job... I get to spar with the other knights and teach the new recruits about sword-fighting. I feel a little like Vargus. I've tried to teach the other knights about sword-chucks, but none of them seem willing to try it. Just like the other Light Warriors...

Red Mage is the head of the Red Wizard guild now. He's working to become a sage or something. He's got loads of apprentices and students under him, learning about balance and versatility and magic. I don't see him often as I would like; The last time I saw him was around a year and a half ago. Though he did say there was going to be a guild tower opening up in Corneria pretty soon. Maybe I'll be able to see him more often.

Red Mage has been using a cane since after the battle. Black Mage pretty much shattered the bones in his right leg with some kind of pressure magic. Even with healing magic, it was never quite the same and he still limps pretty badly. Red Mage prefers to call it a staff rather than a cane, though. He's supposed to be an all-powerful mimic/wizard, after all.

Thief was also badly hurt in the battle. It was a few minutes before I faced Black Mage. Thief was bleeding so much... I saw some law-ninja appear and take him into the shadows. They all disappeared after that. I don't know if he still lives.

Elfland has become even more isolationist in the past decade. There's been no news from there in years... Some kind of barrier of trees and vines grew around the border of the country a few weeks after I returned to Corneria. They say it's impenetrable. The dwarves' new cannons and rifles can't break down the barrier and the vines attack if you go too far into the barrier forest. I remember. Yesterday, I received a message from Red Mage. He says that he and some of his high-level students will be coming into the kingdom today. It seems about time to go meet him. I guess I'll continue this later.


----

October 19th, 10:30 PM

I had a full day with Red Mage. I was introduced to his students before they ran off to sight-see and look at how the guild tower is coming along. Red Mage looks... older. He's almost 44 now, I think. Maybe it's just because we go so long without seeing each other, it's a shock to see how we've changed. He's got lines in his face... At least his hair isn't going grey since it was white to begin with. I wonder how much older I look to him...

Apparently, Red Mage's here not to check on the guild tower only. There's supposed to be some kind of "meeting of the nations" or something in a few weeks. It'll be on some magic-made island that's a few miles south of Onrac. "Neutral grounds," Red Mage called it. He's here so he can talk to King Steve about the Cornerian transportation; whether or not they want to use a boat or want to be teleported in. Red Mage thinks I might be going with them, being the Knight Captain and all. I hope so, actually. Besides the countries, there will also

be a few of the wizard orders and guilds. I might be able to speak to one of the White Wizards if they know whatever happened to White Mage.

I wonder if anyone from Elfland will be there. Red Mage said he didn't know and we dropped the subject. He hasn't heard from Thief either. I think that kinda made him feel bad, since Thief and him were sort of friends.

He would feel bad if Thief was dead. He might feel worse of Thief is alive.

Red Mage and me spent some time in a pub, reminiscing about old times. It was actually kind of difficult, seeing as I didn't want to talk about Black Mage and Red Mage didn't want to talk about Thief.

It's getting late now. Red Mage is staying in the castle guest quarters. Hopefully I'll be able to find out more about the "meeting of the nations" thing tomorrow.

edit: Paragraphing error

[Seran]

I like it Skit, I like it. It does feel like a rather depressing time. That's the style I like...drama, fear, sadness...

Poor Fighter...poor Thief...

[Skit]

Part 2...


October 20th, 11:00 am

This morning, Queen Jayne spoke to me about the meeting thing. She wants me and my two strongest knights to come along as guards during the meeting. I've decided to bring Biggs and Wedge. They were the first recruits I trained when I became captain. I taught them everything I know and I'm sure they'll be able to do a good job.

Princess Sara is set to take over as ruler of the kingdom soon. She's as lovely as ever... but I don't think I should be writing about that here. It seems a little... not right to think about the princess like that. I'm sure when she takes over she'll be a wonderful queen. She won't be coming along on the trip, since the king and queen want to give her some practise ruling on her own. I was a little worried about leaving her with only the young knights, but she has her own private guard. I'm sure she'll be okay.


The King decided that we would be going by boat. He says he doesn't trust the magic teleportation or something. The queen looked a little ticked off, but she didn't say anything. This means we'll have to leave tomorrow in order to get to the island on time. Red Mage told me the Order of the White Wizards is whose actually holding the event. At least now I know that somebody there will be able to tell me about White Mage.


---

October 26th, 3:00 pm


I couldn't write on the boat. Every time I tried, I ended up feeling seasick. I didn't use to feel sick when I was writing on a boat, but I do now. Maybe it's just part of getting older.

The island is mostly taken up by some kind of weird circular castle. It's got 8 towers around it. Every country visiting gets one. I'm staying in the Corneria tower, on the floor below the King and Queen's floor. I guess so I can protect them if somebody tries to attack or assassinate them. Right now, I'm in the big circular lobby. It's all open to the outside and I can see the docks clearly where the boats have been coming in. The teleport stones are right next to the bench I'm sitting on.

The Queen and King are talking to some of the other representatives. The Prime Minister or Onrac is talking to the king and is looking a little frustrated about whatever they're talking about. Not that I can blame him. King Steve can be confusing at times.

I can see the King of Dwarfland just arrived by boat. Everyone could only bring three guards each. I'm sure the dwarf king would have brought his whole army if he could. They might be bored, since Elfland is completely blocked off and hasn't attacked in so long. Red Ma...


---
October 26th, 3:05 pm

Thief is here. He's alive....
He saw me when he came in, but he didn't say anything or even look like he recognized me. I... I need to talk to Red Mage.

[Seran]

Wow...it all feels so sad. It makes me once again aware of what tragedies a child can face when they mature, when they've already faced enough humiliation and anger...

That's the feeling I get when I read my own journal.

[DarkCORN!]

When I read my journal, I get depressed and think "Why does it all matter? My memories suck.". Then I write about it in my journal.

[Robert Paulson]

Presenting: The semi-new adventures of the Light Warriors. This takes place after the class change.

It was late at night. Fighter, Thief, BlackMage and RedMage had been travelling for the longest time. They were all walking down a worn out path that led to somewhere, they weren't sure where exactly. The four of them were exhausted. RedMage said to the group, "I can only hope the minimap was correct. The nearest inn shouldn't be too far ahead. I only have so much stamina afterall." Right as he said that, the four caught sight of a roadside inn. Thief remarked, "Is that the inn you were talking about?" RedMage exclaimed, "Why yes! The minimap never fails!" The building itself was an ordinary two-story inn, that looked like it had fallen into disrepair ages ago. A sign out front of the inn read, "Open stage night." The Light Warriors walked in. A receptionist awaited them. The receptionist man said, "Welcome, weary travellers. What can I do for you at this late hour?" Thief told, "Room for four, one night only." The receptionist then said, "That'll be 300 gil." Fighter asked, "What's that sign out front mean?" The man behind the desk answered, "Oh, that. There's a parlor downstairs in the basement. Tonight, anyone can go onstage and do an act." RedMage commented, "Hmm, such entertainment could raise our morale, and morale could turn the tides in an epic boss confrontation! I'll be there right now." "Me too!" Fighter added. BlackMage said, "I'll see this open stage night, so that I may heckle and mock the performers incessantly." Thief told, "I'll arrange the setup for our staying here."

So then Fighter, RedMage and BlackMage went to the basement of the inn. Now they were in a large room, filled with tables and chairs, and on the far end, a stage. At the moment, a man dressed like a jester was on stage. The jester was addressing the audience, "And what's the deal with airship food anyways? I mean seriously, is it that hard to make good food while flying through the air?" The audience chuckled, Fighter and RedMage included. BlackMage was not amused. He was near the stairs, and hadn't taken a seat like Fighter and RedMage. Instead, the dark wizard was holding out his right hand. A fireball was forming in the palm of his hand. He was thinking that setting this 'joker' on fire from a distance would've been much more humorous than listening to one half-assed joke after another. The jester continued his act, "And why is it that inspiring melee fighters always use swords and nothing else?" Fighter was visibly startled by this. BlackMage put down his hand, no longer giving off a flame, and thought, on second thought, maybe I will stay. The jester then spoke, "There are many, many other weapons one can use up close: axes, lances, hammers, whips, halberds, maces, scythes, clubs, staves and daggers to name a few. So why this fixation on swords? Only reason I can imagine someone wanting a sword was because it resembled a giant phallus. Think about it; why do you think blacksmiths make some swords ridiculously large and long? It's so the knight owning it can draw it out and say, 'check out the size of my equipment!' And also, have you heard about the new chained swords?" Fighter became wild-eyed. The jester continued, "It's like nunchuks, but instead of two sticks joined by a chain, it's two swords joined by a chain. First of all, I gotta ask, what's the point? The whole concept behind chained swords is impractical. Why not just use two ordinary swords in each hand, or a double-edged sword? Seriously, what idiot dreamt this up?" Fighter stood up proudly and bellowed, "I would be that idiot, sir!" BlackMage fell to the ground, laughing uncontrollably. RedMage murmured to himself, "This is turning out to be a rather funny cutscene." The jester said to Fighter, "What? No way! You didn't make up chained swords!" Fighter marched onto the stage, shouting, "But I did! See here!" He held out his swordchucks, then bragged, "Watch what I can do!" He began twirling his swords around at a blinding speed, when suddenly, one of the swords broke off the chain, and went flying towards BlackMage. The sword barely missed the black-turned-blue mage. Fighter stated, "Oops." The jester added, "My point exactly." Fighter and RedMage went to BlackMage, who was more angered than shocked by Fighter's antics. Fighter picked up his blade and said, "Sorry about that, buddy." BlackMage coldly replied, "Your existence is but one of many reasons I live to obtain ultimate power." "Thanks! And everything you said, but the other way around, with your existence inspiring me to become stronger!" Fighter said back. The three went back upstairs. Thief was conversing with the receptionist. The Elf was saying, "Come on, it'll be just this once. I'll never ask you again." The receptionist scolded, "No, a thousand times no! I have a reputation to live up to!" "But you'd be serving royalty!" Thief argued. RedMage asked, "What seems to be the problem?" Thief answered, "I'm trying to lower the price to 5 gil, but he won't budge." BlackMage asked, "Strange. Sounded like you were trying to get him to perform a-" Thief interrupted, "Don't even finish that sentence! Why you humans must think entirely in perverted thoughts is beyond my reasoning." BlackMage said, "Don't lie. You know it's true." Thief handed the receptionist 300 gil and told, "Forget what I said."

The Light Warriors spent one night at the rusty old inn, and by the morning, they were already continuing down the worn path. On the way, a young boy stopped them. He looked very out of place. He asked the Warriors, "Excuse me, um, I could use some help." BlackMage blurted, "We don't know, we don't care-" but RedMage covered BlackMage's mouth, assuming the blue mage had a mouth, and snapped, "Quiet! This child might lend us experience!" The boy continued, "You see, I travel a lot with some friends of mine, but recently I got separated from them. Have you seen them? There's two; you couldn't mistake them. One is a dog, kinda tall, has really long ears, and the other's a duck, has a funny voice. In fact, they almost look human; they wear clothes, stand on two feet, and can talk, have you seen them by any chance?" The four Warriors all drew a puzzled look at the human boy. Then Fighter, Thief, BlackMage and RedMage bursted into an uproarious laughter. BlackMage, in his laughter, managed to say, "You might wanna try layin' off the forest shrooms, kid!" The boy exclaimed, "Hey, that's not funny! I didn't make any of that up! You know what? Nevermind. I'll just be on my way." The boy walked off in the opposite direction of where the Light Warriors were going. Thief said, "Wow, and I thought human children couldn't be any more stupid." RedMage then told, "Pretty soon, they'll be saying that the legends of a kingdom run by mice monarchs turned out true!" And the four of them marched on . . .

To be continued.

[Seran]

[Iron] Sword - 75 gil.
Swordchucks - 500 gil.
Kingdom Hearts reference - priceless.

I can't get the next update of Black Mage's Horrors, you guys. My folder was deleted from dad's computer and took the update with it.

+++

The sounds of preparation for war was truly unnerving, as the clangs of swords against their sheaths broke the air, with armor screechily huffing as plates of steel rubbed against one another, and the breaths of a robe or cloak along the ground joined the melody of darkness and war as the foursome marched out from their tent, led through the forest by a fully armored Garland with a fierce flame in his blue eyes, followed by the dark elf named Drizz'l with his moonlight hair and piercing gaze. Behind him went Vilbert the vampire with his ever-pale face and dead heart, and lastly was Bikke with his bulky arms flexing in the soft light. Vilbert was careful to avoid any, and absolutely any bit of sunlight that rolled down unto the forest's littered ground covered in leaves and twigs, but despite the curse of the day, it was the perfect time to defeat the Light Warriors. Drizz'l flicked his head and his white bangs flew from his dark face, his own golden eyes locked only on the path before them. Garland's armor gleamed menacingly in the day, glaring every time the sun managed to shine upon it. It was no longer time to sulk from the presence of their miserable comrades, nor wonder to themselves why their own existences were so pitiful. It was no longer time to think of a world full of paradise in their own eyes. The hour of misery and hoping had gone -- the only hoping they would need to do was for the painful, agonizing deaths of their true enemies. It was perfect to lay upon their foes a bloody storm, a bloody downpour of pain and hurt. They all knew what they wanted. They wanted to see the green leaves of late spring turn crimson and leave not the birth that spring promised, but the death that the Dark Warriors had longed for. They had wanted it for so long. Each and every one dreamed of the vision in their minds, ready to face a one-time war that they should either win or lose...and none of them wanted to lose anything. They would risk nothing. They approached the river, but Drizz'l was the first to slip in like a deadly anaconda, stalking prey with a silent grace. True, Drizz'l had long ago stated he could not swim when they had been overseas, but he had learned much since then. Besides, he thought it as not being clear water, but water waiting to be poisoned by the blood of their enemies. Vilbert paused and stared down at the current as Drizz'l struggled through it. He didn't want the water to ruin his outfit. Yet the clouds that gathered above promised to him the dark hours that would soon come, the dark times they could bring upon the world, and as Garland held onto his cloak, he walked in and swam across the river once Drizz'l had reached the other end of the current. Bikke watched after them, wishing that there was a bridge, but Garland leaned over and reached out in a silent gesture that merely stated he would help Bikke if Bikke would only swim. Without a single voice to lend, Bikke did indeed jump as far as he could, crash into the water, and attempt to swim toward Garland's hand. He lunged out, grabbed the dark knight by the wrist, and Garland pulled back to get Bikke to shore. Once that was done after a bit of difficulty, they all pressed on, weapons in hands and tactics in minds. Drizz'l was holding two silver swords, each in one hand, his elven spirit stilled by the calm before the tempest, before they would stain themselves with crimson life and delicious victory. Bikke crushed a flower as he followed the other three closely. Vilbert hung his head in a sinister manner, his red hair drenched and his outfit dripping from the river's cold water.
The soft voice of Drizz'l laughed in the silence as he followed the scent that was luring him into the camp of the Light Warriors. Garland turned his head, stopping his advance toward the camp, and gave his fellow miscreant a curious look to the quiet chuckle. As the dark elf walked on by, he offered his explanation for his amusement.
"We're in luck...this'll be easier than I had ever hoped."

Fighter shut his eyes in agony whilst Red Mage touched the wound that Black Mage had inflicted. He had already lost enough blood, coughing it up as it clogged his throat and watching it flow out of the lesion. He squirmed with anguish while Red Mage tried to force him into a more still position so that he wouldn't writhe from the pain. Had Black Mage's attack really been that lethal? Red Mage grabbed Fighter by the shoulders, pinned his arms to his sides, and said quietly, "Fighter, I need you to stop moving if I need you to heal."
The warrior only clamped his teeth beneath his closed lips, shut his eyes, and gave a vague moan as his head rolled to the side. Thief sighed and rubbed his head with a tan hand, wishing that Black Mage had never done such an idiotic thing to their best aggressor. Their defenses were completely weakened now that Fighter was unable to actually fight back. While Red Mage tried some sort of strategy to effectively heal the wound, they heard a sound melt into the atmosphere, an eerie sound that simply oozed with a sinister intent.
"Just as I thought..."
Black Mage glanced around warily with Thief, and Red Mage threw his gaze over his shoulder to see a black figure emerge from the foliage. From the other side of the camp did one in armor appear. Surfacing from the darkness came a bulky one to their left, and an unusually pale one to their right. Drizz'l grinned triumphantly as he watched Fighter still bleeding on the ground, his golden eyes locked with Fighter's as he watched the warrior's expression of pain turn to shock, regret, then absolute horror.

[DarkCORN!]

What is that story? Which story is it?

[Seran]

That was from the interactive story. The last update was by me, way back in...uh...page 10.
T3h last update of the interactive Dark Warriors story. (http://forum.nuklearpower.com/showpost.php?p=377735&postcount=95)

[Quickman X]

Waaaait.... Regardin' the DW story... where... is...
...MISTER FUZZY DOOMBRINGER?! He must appear once more, and in so doing save the world.
...'cause he PWNS.

[Seran]

Maybe after the battle. After all the blood and predicted foreboding and misfortune of the Light Warriors leaving their weapons in their tents and having their defenses disabled since Fighter was undoubtedly unable to battle and they will most likely face a casualty -- yes, I'm that mean, uwahaha -- while I listen to One-Winged Angel from Advent Children thus inspiring me to dig deeper into the description of the gore.

Then I'll sometime find a way to get back some effort for Black Mage's nightmare.

[Quickman X]

Maybe after the battle. After all the blood and predicted foreboding and misfortune of the Light Warriors leaving their weapons in their tents and having their defenses disabled since Fighter was undoubtedly unable to battle and they will most likely face a casualty -- yes, I'm that mean, uwahaha -- while I listen to One-Winged Angel from Advent Children thus inspiring me to dig deeper into the description of the gore.

Then I'll sometime find a way to get back some effort for Black Mage's nightmare.
...c-casualties? As in... y'know... people dying?
*clears throat, half because of the flu and half to prove a point*
Ahem...
NOOOOOOOOOOO(ad nauseum)~! DON'T KILL 'EM, SERAN! PLEASE, NO!
Alright, all done.

::edit:: Say, doesn't Fighter usually heal much faster than this?
::bastard child of edit:: This would be a nice time for him to realize he has white magic...

[DarkCORN!]

Continue the story or be destroyed, Seran.

[CelebrenIthil]

....in short, I hate being so busy I can't even go on the forums like I would like.
But I've taken a bit on the lost time and read everything that was posted here since my last visit. (page 11)
I can't take as much time as I would like since I've got to continue working on my contest entry but I wanted to tell everyone that has written that you do really good job! It is really interesting, tought it gets a bit confusing since everyone share the same thread.
I can't wait to see the follow-ups of all your stuff!

And I want to tell Seran I'm sorry she had lost a chapter of BM's nightmare, things like that have already happened to me and it's so deadly frustrating...

Kisses to you all, and with that, I'm gone to look at all I've missed on the fanart thread!

[Robert Paulson]

Part two of the semi-new adventures of the Light Warriors.

The four adventurers had been walking down the worn-out path for hours. For the longest time, they were surrounded by vast plains. Now the path lead into a dense forest. BlackMage observed, "Oh great. Another forest? How many more of these stupid things are there?" Fighter answered, "The reason is that we, as a society, haven't had a large need to burn forests down, explaining as to why there are so many forests these days." RedMage added, "Also, think about it. What epic journey would be complete without a stroll through a forest? Any good roleplaying module features a forested setting." BlackMage ignored them, thinking evil thoughts instead. The Warriors were now in the forest, a forest so thick with foliage, it blocked out the sunlight. Fighter noticed, "Hey, where's Thief and RedMage?" Thief was already high up in the tree branches, jumping from tree to tree, with RedMage mimicking him. After pulling off a few more acrobatic maneuvers, Thief saw something on the ground. He stopped and watched. He saw a number of human-esque creatures that resembled bi-pedal cats, with fur of a light shade of brown. The creatures were dancing, and chanting in a squeaky voice, "Kupo!" RedMage recognized them immediately, "Moogles! So they are real." Thief asked, "Would these things happen to have anything of value?" RedMage responded, "Not likely, except maybe a few elixirs. And perhaps a rare armor-" Thief interrupted, "I'll investigate just to make sure. Be sure to keep an eye out." Thief jumped away. RedMage was too slow to react. He shouted, "Wait! I can't get down without miming you!" He paused, and said to himself, "Think, RedMage, think. What would Vermillion Wizard do?"

Fighter was telling BlackMage as they were exploring the forest, "I just remembered. Sometimes, those, things, live, in forests. BlackMage, if we encounter spiders, you're gonna have to fight them off for me. I just don't have it in me to square off against those, things," He shuddered, just thinking about the spiders. BlackMage wasn't listening, but instead was noticing something. He spotted what looked like cat-like creatures dancing and frolicing. Fighter observed, "Hey BlackMage! Look at those things! Aren't they the cutest? I wander if they wanna play with us!" Fighter ran off, but he spooked the moogles in doing so. He said, "Ah, darn. I must've scared them. But all I wanted was to play. Maybe I'll try finding some more!" Fighter ran off again, this time out of BlackMage's sight. Just then, a single moogle approached BlackMage. BlackMage told, "Go away. I have a tendency to incinerate the jolly." "Kupo?" BlackMage looked at the moogle, and he started thinking, look at him. He thinks he's so cute, what with his doll-like looks and his high-pitched cry. He hated seeing things that made people say, "Aww, isn't that the sweetest thing you've ever seen?" It sickened him. It sickened him, to the core. He changed his expression, and started to say the following, "Hey there, little guy, I got a present for you." "Kupo!" "But I can't present my gift by traditional means. You can only take it in one place," "Kupo?" "And that place is," BlackMage narrowed his eyes, and yelled out loud, "INNA NERTS!" He dashed with all of his strength, and performed the first blue magic spell he mastered on the moogle; a swift goblin kick that sent the moogle flying far out of the forest. BlackMage, feeling a rush of adrenaline, began scouring the forest. He came across more moogles. With his unparalleled wrath fueling him, he started shooting out lightning bolts from one hand, and fireballs out of the other. Everywhere he went, he killed every moogle that crossed his sight, and when there were no moogles to kill, he would shoot fire onto the trees. The fury that is BlackMage had made itself manifest in the forest: dead moogles, a furious firestorm consuming the old-as-time trees, and a blue mage in the center, cackling with an inhumane glee. He boasted, "If no one else is gonna destroy these damned forests, then it looks like I have to!" He began charging up a much more potent black magic spell, but before he could cast it, an earthquake ruptured through the forest. A crack in the earth formed beneath BlackMage, and he fell into the chasm.

RedMage was still high up in the trees when the fire started. Smoke was obscuring his vision, and obstructing his breathing. He tried to say out loud, "Fire, burning trees, *cough* smoke, causing poison status, *cough* me, still high up." He coughed once more. He then said, "I can only hope, *cough* that the damage die rolls a low, *cough* number." He jumped off, bracing his body for impact. He landed, was somewhat bruised, but still okay. At that moment, Fighter appeared. The sword fanatic told, "RedMage, what's going on? One moment, I was playing hide-and-seek with some animals, and then the next moment, the whole place is on fire." Thief jumped in from out of nowhere. He said to the group, "I couldn't find anything of value, except for a moogle suit strangely enough, but where did this fire come from?" RedMage replied, "It's obvious. A force, so malicious, so uncaring, so devastating to the world, is sweeping through here as I speak. A force of evil like that of which mere mortals have never beared witness to until now is responsible for what we are seeing." Fighter noted, "Hey, where's BlackMage? Oh no! He must still be lost in the forest! We've got to find him!"

BlackMage was now in the chasm. Many of his bones were fractured, and he couldn't move. Light from the fire above ground was shining onto his broken body, but everywhere around him was pitch black. Before he could get his wits together, something from the shadows casted a spell that quickly absorbed what remained of BlackMage's mana. A voice called out, a voice like that of those cat-like things, but it was speaking words, "Why did you murder my friends?" BlackMage was caught off guard. He didn't feel his wicked magic flowing through him, and a stranger was interrogating him, in his state. He was frightened, but he maintained his personality, "Those abominations of cuddliness are your friends?" The high-pitched voice answered, "I am one of those abominations of cuddliness. I'll ask you one last time, why did you murder my friends?" BlackMage replied, "I'd gladly answer if I knew who I was talking who. Just who are you?" The figure stepped into the light, close to BlackMage. It was indeed one of those things, but unlike the things on the surface that sported a golden brown fur color, this thing's fur was pale as snow. He coldly intoned, "Let's just say I'm the most slam-dancing moogle around these parts."

To be continued . . .

[Seran]

Poor wittle Moogles being burned down by mean BM. Where's my chainsaw?

+++

Black Mage had begun to lose all certainty of the world around him. He could not discern whether or not it was real, for there were times where his head would throb insanely as though warning him of some outside danger, as though the entire thing was an illusion to lure him away into a trap, and there were times that it all felt far too real for him to doubt its presence. He couldn't stir from such a confusing dream. That is, if he could call it a dream. He could not decide whether it was real, was a dream, or was a nightmare. Being a helpless victim of no magic and defense was bad enough for him, but to know that a moron who had been his friend now held supreme power over an entire empire -- and had somehow gained more intelligence, thereby causing him to slash out the eyes of an opposing figure? To know that a certain jerk he knew long ago had taken the throne of a world that was rightfully his? What about the insane idiot who had become a demi-god?
"You didn't hear me, did you?"
Black Mage walked right into Vilbert without lifting his head in time. The vampire pushed him away with great aggressive force, as though offended by this lack of attention, and while the mage fell to the ground he swept his left arm out in a gesture toward the current chamber. Pushing the brim of his hat up a bit, Black Mage raised his head to glare at Vilbert, only to see that they were finally on the seventh floor in the room where Red Mage awaited him. He shook his head at Vilbert.
"No, I did not hear you," answered the wizard stiffly.
"I did say we're here. Now get up, I've got business to d -- why is your hat jumping around the room, my liege?"
Black Mage turned his head to see Red Mage's hat literally bouncing off the walls, as though it had a mind of its own. The demi-god shrugged despite his glowing glory, which made him look very wise though he had just given a somewhat lazy response to Vilbert's question a mere few seconds ago. Black Mage pushed himself onto his feet and walked over to his old comrade. Vilbert had decided to watch the demi-god's hat before chasing it around the room, trying to catch it just to bring it back to Red Mage.
"Whaddya want?" growled Black Mage. He sat down in a wooden chair unlike Red Mage's fluffy chair.
"I was wondering if you'd like a walk in the moonlight."
"With you? No thanks, Captain Plumed."
"Yeah, uh. You used that lame joke ages ago."
"When?"
"When I got brutally mauled by werewolves and no one would hand me a healing potion because you were all jerks and if I weren't so weak at that moment I would have beat the crap out of you three."
There was a brief moment of silence, accompanied only by the sound of Vilbert scrambling over chairs and under tables, still trying to grab ahold of the slippery hat that spun throughout the place.
"Nah, I don't remember."
"Well, it's a nice night outside." Red Mage tilted his head as if attempting to appeal to Black Mage. "Come on, please? I'll be lonely without you."
"Why don't you take your girlfriend?"
"Celebren? What makes you think th -- may I remind you that Fighter stole yours?"
"You didn't have to remind me."
"Yeah, life's unfair that way. Come on, before the sun rises."
"Fine, fine..."
Black Mage stood while the demi-god rose gracefully, rubbing his hands over one another with anticipation. "Excellent! Vilbert, what are you doing?"
The vampire quickly fell over a red chair and sat in it, blinking back at Red Mage with mild surprise in his eyes.
"Pursuing your unusually swift hat. Does it not have any limit to its energy or anything?"
"I don't know, maybe someone bewitched it. Make a check and see if you can detect any foreign magic that controls it. Let's go," said Red Mage as he took Black Mage's sleeve and tugged it. "I don't need my hat at the moment."
He pulled Black Mage along as they departed and hurried along the corridors and hallways, searching for the proper exit to have their nighttime walk. Black Mage hadn't the slightest clue of where they were going to walk, but as he was being dragged along, they pushed through a door and all suddenly went dark. He had suddenly gone blind. Black Mage tried to sense something, but he had no sight, no touch, no smell, no sound; all had been taken away from him at that very moment. Why?
It's as though you weren't even listening, foolish spellcaster of the darkest magicks. Didn't you hear me through all of that nonsense?
Well, I don't even know who this is. Hey, I can hear myself again!
Silence! I don't understand -- how can you be stuck in such a place for so long? Awake, mage! Awake!
You sound worried.
You must be confusing that with anger.
Well, this is all just a dream then?
It could be something significa -- why am I still talking to you? Shouldn't you be awake?
Without warning, Black Mage was pulled out of the darkness into a cool breeze. A calm night above was visible through the thin, delicate clouds; the bright crescent moon hung in the dark sky, with the stars scattered across the dark sea. Red Mage was still clutching his friend's sleeve.
"Hey, let go of me."
"Ah. Sorry."
The young man allowed the mage's sleeve to slip from his pale fingers, yet he kept his gaze away from him and instead focused it onto the path before them. On both sides of the broad path, trees stood with wicked branches reaching up into the sky, and small bushes littering the ground while owls called out to the darkness and wolves watched the two mages eagerly with glowing eyes. A pleasant night indeed.
Red Mage led him away along the path. He looked rather sleepy, with eyelids resting over his eyes and his pace lazier than Black Mage's. There was a lack of conversation as they ventured toward the entrance to the forest around them. Why had Red Mage decided to talk a walk here, of all places? Were Thief and Fighter battling it out elsewhere and Red Mage didn't want to be involved? Speaking of battles, what had Fighter been doing, and who were all of those other people he had randomly come across? Black Mage had so many questions in mind that he didn't notice Red Mage fall behind for the fifth time during the silent walk. They had been quiet for that long. The night was uninteresting, and the cool breeze may had been relaxing, but that wasn't the thing that caught his attention.

[Mondt]

*Waits patiently for Celebren's "SQUEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!"*

Seriously though, it will happen.

[Seran]

While he pondered, he failed to hear Red Mage collapsing to the ground behind him, the demi-god releasing a stiff yet quiet moan on the cold path. He didn't notice the sudden pain that was erupting in his fellow's left shoulder, which Red Mage clutched with great force as he clamped his jaws in agony. Black Mage continued to walk along as he writhed on the ground, his throat tight, his body shuddering and his white hair's seducing glow flickering and fading. He cried out to the mage in a rather pleading manner. Black Mage finally turned around, looking for the source of the sound, and glanced to the floor where Red Mage sat on his knees, clutching his shoulder and forcing himself to breathe evenly with a strained effort. Black Mage stared with a dim glow in his yellow eyes.
"Uh, are you okay?"
Red Mage shut his eyes and let out a quiet but tormented groan, falling over onto his side as the sound of creaking bone emerged into the silence of the night. He watched as some form of movement created a small but evident pulse in Red Mage's shoulder, starting to stare with meager curiosity. A few seconds passed while the demi-god suffered and moved feebly on the ground, clutching his shoulder, while some sort of parasite or creature made its presence known within his flesh. Immediately after, though, his skin tore with a sickening sound and blood flew into the air, with drops raining onto Black Mage's hat, and Black Mage stumbled back as a figure raised its bloody head from Red Mage's torn shoulder, blinking with yellow serpent-eyes. While Red Mage kicked and yelled out to the sky with much anguish did the horns of the dragon slide out of the dragon's head and assume their positions, and the dragon lifted its head to stretch its long neck. It was completely covered in crimson stains and pushed Red Mage's cloak away from it. The dragon seemed to emerge, rather, from behind Red Mage's shoulder and not from the top.
"What the hell?"
The dragon's head reared back, and then lunged forth with a rope of flame shooting forth from its jaws. Red Mage slowly raised his upper body with his legs stretched out in front of him, and he pushed himself up into an uneasy standing position as Black Mage tumbled back to avoid the fire. Red Mage nearly stumbled to his left, where the sudden additional weight of the dragon sat, and he slowly reached for the hilt of the sword that hung from his waist. He drew the blade, pointed it at Black Mage, and while he fought back another cry of pain he allowed his voice to creep into the menacing night.
"Die," he whispered with narrowed eyes.
Black Mage watched as his rival raised the white sword and brought it down to him, but he scrambled away before the blow could land, and he heard the blade cut into the dirt instead. He scrambled onto his feet but his hat nearly fell off when the dragon blew fire at him. This was not going to be a fair fight, he knew. Black Mage spun around, backing away, hoping that his magic would work for him. He thrust his hands out as Red Mage advanced on him, his dragon snorting smoke, and the spellcaster shut his eyes as he prayed silently for his spell to emerge.
"Meteo!"
The dragon screamed shrilly, snatching his concentration and scaring him into fleeing a distance away from Red Mage. He saw the trees ahead of him, the black and sinister trees that clawed at the sky while thick clouds stole the moon and light of the stars away from the night. He flicked his fingers at the foe, his voice rising with fright.
"Meteo!"
"Meteo," Red Mage answered in a calm response, and what had not come to Black Mage's command, came instead to Red Mage's word. A massive meteor steered out of space into the atmosphere. The light of the great embers was cast upon the forest, headed directly toward Black Mage, who stood with great shock in his unseen expression as his heart quickened in fear. Meanwhile, the demi-god was approaching him as though there was no meteor hurtling toward them. His dragon snapped its jaws and breathed more fire at Black Mage. Black Mage noticed the attack. He turned and ran for his miserable life, trying desperately to flee into the forest, but before he reached the entrance did a shining object fly past his arm and embed itself into the bark of one of the dead trees. Red Mage had thrown his sword at him, and now Black Mage was grabbing his bleeding arm, staggering away from where the sword had flown past him. He glanced up in fright. There was nowhere for him to go. Flames, flames, and more flames...

[DarkCORN!]

Um...cool, but what the hell?

[Mondt]

Did I miss something? Or is this going to be explained? D'oh.

[Seran]

Is what going to be explained?

+++

A shadow rolled across the ground. Black Mage's eyes followed the giant figure that was flying through the sky, with enormous wings that threw a powerful wind across the ground below, and a tail clubbing the air in agitation while trepidation continued to grip Black Mage at this new figure. Its body descended toward them and drove Red Mage back. What did Red Mage know of this creature? While the meteor's light was thrown upon the draconic beast, he nearly slapped himself in the head for not recognizing the monster right away. In fact, the dragon was no monster at all. While Red Mage's dragon spat more fire at Black Mage, he scuttled away and hid behind the intruder that had just landed.
Bahamut.
"Climb on!" roared the king of dragons, his eyes shifting back to the shivering spellcaster. "No place is safe for you or anyone else!"
"What?"
Bahamut couldn't be helping him.
"Hurry!" he bellowed, and Bahamut snarled furiously at Red Mage, who backed away with steel eyes and a cold face that easily contrasted with the heat of the fires that were forming. The feeling of hope, yet dread, exploded in Black Mage's stomach while he clambered onto Bahamut's back. Now he was impatient. He wanted to leave right away. The wind howled and grew fierce, no longer cool but instead burning with the rage of the demi-god. Red Mage's hair became a crimson color that spread more rapidly than the fires around him, and it whipped in the wind as he tore his cloak off of him. He tossed it aside. Bahamut lifted his great wings, took flight, and Black Mage clung to his back as they escaped the forest that had been promising death -- while they both gazed up at the blinding light of the approaching meteor. It was far too close. They could feel its burning heat. Bahamut turned and soared away as quickly as he was able to. The wind blew into Black Mage's hidden face and would have taken his hat, had he not held onto its brim while bracing against the wind, his heart pounding and his head spinning in the rush of the escape from the Meteo spell. The oversized, flaming rock was right behind them as it started to crash into the ground with such devastating force, it was hard to imagine how much damage it would cause to the forest and to the cavern that was not too far away from the landing point. Bahamut did not dare to even look back. Nor did Black Mage. His blue cloak flapped in the wind while he gulped down his fears and kept to the dragon king's back, scanning the forest below as it vanished into the distance. Black Mage could not see himself and Bahamut in Red Mage's eyes, disappearing into the distance like airborne rats that had easily escaped sure death, but he could see himself laughing at Red Mage's failure to kill him. He smiled to himself. What an idiot. But soon, Bahamut took a sharp turn down toward the canopy of the forest to his left, a roar bursting forth from his throat while flames engulfed his right wing. The meteor was far behind, but it wasn't the spell that had burned Bahamut's wing. No, it was Red Mage flying right beside them!
How had he forgotten? Red Mage had wings as well! Long and delicate wings with feathers, but he had sailed into the sky without any trouble at all, and the dragon on his shoulder had just sent a scorching torrent of embers onto Bahamut's wing. The giant beast thrust his head toward Red Mage and thundered angrily, raising a claw to punch at the demi-god. The fight was not over. Black Mage searched wildly through his cloak and pants for some weapon to fight their foe off with. He was blind in the raging wind and could find no weapon, while the weight of having no spells soon made itself very prominent in his horror, as Bahamut twisted and lurched beneath him in an effort to battle against the swift yet dangerous demi-god. Bahamut was swinging at Red Mage and lashing his tail out at him, even trying to get his enemy with his great wings every now and then. The dragon king was larger than all other dragons, that was true, but it was not pleasant to be riding him when he was fighting against a human who had nearly as much power as him.
"Give him to me!" shouted Red Mage. He truly wanted Black Mage dead.
"Begone!" roared Bahamut in his deep tone, and an orb of energy formed between his wicked jaws. Red Mage, with his sword clutched in his right hand, ducked away with a single flap of his wings while Bahamut fired a bullet of Mega-Flare at him. The shot missed and crashed into the forest below. Their opponent flew up, sword in hand, and cut Bahamut up the stomach and chin. The beast groaned but continued to fly.
"Bahamut!"
The dragon defiantly shot at Red Mage once more with another bullet of Mega-Flare, and this time the attack landed against the demi-god's chest. Red Mage's bloody dragon, with trails his blood still falling off of it, opened its jaws and retaliated with a massive breath of scarlet flame. The attack caught Bahamut across the head. Black Mage widened his eyes as he noticed that the dragon king was nearly blinded by the assault, and he soon had more trouble flying against the wind and cold air. Black Mage glanced back to see the meteor gone, but with a legion of fires left to devour the forest and the night. Red Mage fell toward a tree below, yet he landed without trouble and clutched his injured chest, as though his ribcage had succumbed and he was suffering for it. Black Mage sneered at him mockingly.
"Bahamut!"
Black Mage watched him attempt to fly, but his chest seemed to cave in and he grabbed at it again, breathing with great difficulty. The crimson dragon roared at them, green scales more noticeable once most of the blood had fallen off. Black Mage wrapped his arms around Bahamut's neck.
"I can't see," the dragon king whined in despair. "I can't see. I've been blinded by that wretched human. I can't see."
"Where are we going?"
"The castle..."
"I can get there fine without your eyes. Come on."
Seperating the castle and the forest were the fields, where Black Mage could easily see another battle taking place. Armies clashed with one another up ahead, swords flashing, spells booming, beasts growling, and carcasses collapsing. Their fight with Red Mage had ended with a lucky Mega-Flare, but would anybody shoot at them if they flew overhead?
"There's a battle ahead. Should we fly in?"
"They'll be too busy to see if we're on either side. It'll be fine."

+++

Note that I finished the nightmare over the week I have been absent. In one day. The whole story's a bit rushed, so...
...Besides...
-Points at signature.-
Incoherence. Stress. Hurt.

[CelebrenIthil]

*coughs*

Well...
That was...

Hurm...

*rubs neck*
I...dragons...shoulder...

...Well, that was unexpected... ._.

.........
.................
......................
You know what? Even that will not change my mind.

*pull her hat on eyes and sides with Red Mage*

I'm with him thick and thin, no matter if he grows dragon heads in weird places and goes into homicidal rages against old friends without any explicit reasons!
*cross arms*
I say!

Now, I should have posted this since soooooooo long!


the girl next to him giggled at Red Mage’s mind reading ability. “Now, Celebren, how about you head down to the kitchen and cook something for our guest?”
The girl – named Celebren, apparently – nodded quickly with a smile, then immediately left the two in the room, hurrying out the door.

http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v103/TheSilverstar/CelebrenDemi-GodRM.jpg

:whee:

((Sorry for putting artwork in this thread! It's done since sooo long and I had the urge to finally post it (even tought the scan killed it) but right now I should be doing my homework, and I don't have the time to reply to everyone's very nice comments. You don't even have to give me feedback here as the picture will go in the fanart thread as soon as I have enough time to write my replies. Kisses!))

[Mondt]

Is what going to be explained?Why RM is trying to murder BM.

I don't get it...

[Robert Paulson]

And now, the conclusion of the semi-new adventures of the Light Warriors.

Fighter, RedMage and Thief were running through the forest amidst the blaze that was consuming the entire region. After searching for what seemed like ages, Fighter noticed a very wide crack in the ground that wasn't there before. He looked down and saw BlackMage and what looked like a Moogle at the bottom. He called out, "Hey guys! I found him!" RedMage and Thief caught up, asking, "Where?" "Down there!" Fighter said, pointing to the bottom of the chasm. Thief yelled, "Then we've no time!" The ninja grabbed Fighter and threw him in. Fighter shouted, "WAAAAAHHHHH!!!!" As he fell. Thief then jumped in. RedMage, watching closely, mimicked Thief by grabbing a nearby Moogle body that was eletrocuted to death, threw it in, and jumped afterwards.

BlackMage was trying to ascertain what this so-called, "Slam-dancing Moogle" was saying. He hoped, he prayed, that "slam-dancing" wasn't Moogle slang for "most perverted." Just then, he heard an all-too familiar voice yell, "WAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH Oomph!" He saw that Fighter had fallen in, then Thief landed on Fighter's body as to break his fall. Two seconds later, a dead Moogle landed near BlackMage, with RedMage breaking his fall on the Moogle corpse. The pale Moogle told, "So your companions have appeared. I also hold you lot responsible for what's happening." Thief questioned, "Responsible? What, you mean for the spontaneous forest fire?" The Moogle answered, "Yes. Your companion here went nuts and shot black magic everywhere. I lost good friends on this day, all because of him, and you harbor his actions!" Fighter told, "But of course! He's our bestest best friend! Oh, and you'll have to excuse the fire. You see, sometimes, BlackMage stores up a lot of magical energy. Sometimes, he stores up so much energy, that he must release it, which can result in property damage." The Moogle responded, "So, in other words, your friend was indulging in a destructive form of masturbation." BlackMage interrupted, "Oh, for the love of Darko, never use the words 'destructive' and 'masturbation' in the same sentence ever again!" To which Fighter retorted with, "But you just did!" BlackMage instictively reached for his dagger, but he couldn't, for both of his arms were too broken to move. RedMage was oddly observant of the pale Moogle for the entire time he was down in the chasm, then he broke his silence, "No, it can't be. Mog, Mog the heroic Moogle of legend!?" The Moogle chuckled, and replied, "No, Mog's not my name. Name's Zoog, but I know what you're referring you. You must be familiar with the fable about the Espers and the Gestahl Empire, yes?" RedMage told, "It makes for a fantastic RPG module!" Zoog continued, "Whoever made up that setting based the character of Mog off of me. I'm the original slam-dancing Moogle." RedMage was astonished. He couldn't contain his excitement. the red wizard blurted, "Whoa, this is like, too awesome for words! The original Mog, live, and uncut!" Thief was looking away, thinking to himself, these Moogles are just like the humans; non-Elves. Nothing the non-Elves say makes any damn sense whatsoever, but the harder he tried to ignore the others, the more his brain seemed to focus in on the conversations. Suddenly, Fighter asked everyone, "How are we gonna get out of here?" Zoog said, "Oh, that's easy. I can teleport us out of here. In fact, I'll teleport all of us, except the black wizard. He stays." Fighter protested, "But you can't do that! I love the little guy!" Thief added, "Granted, BlackMage is a non-Elf, but he is vital to our success." RedMage went into speech-mode, "And think about it, would Mog abandon someone just like that? No! He'd either rescue him immediately, or if it was an enemy, he'd kill him on sight, then strip his body for gil and items. If you really want justice for your fallen brethren, why didn't you kill him sooner?" Zoog awkwardly responded, "Um, uh, because I'm against killing? Okay, I wanna keep him down here so he can't destroy anymore lives. I feel that's appropriate." Fighter said back, "But, you don't have to keep BlackMage down here. We'll watch him more closely, and make sure he expends his energy more responsibly, right BlackMage?" The blue mage answered, "Shut up. Just shut up." Zoog confided, "Alright, if you care for him that much, then I'll rescue him too." "Yay!" Fighter cried out. Zoog did a gesture with his hand, and commanded, "Exit!" The four Warriors and Zoog had been teleported out of the chasm and back on the worn-out path, now leading outside of a burned down forest. Zoog then casted a spell on BlackMage, healing his wounds. BlackMage stood, and the first thing he said was, "This is for that smartass comment you made about me saying destructive and masturbation in the same-" "-You said it again! That makes you a hypocrite!" Fighter exclaimed. BlackMage grabbed his dagger and tried to stab Fighter in the head, but right before his blade broke into Fighter's flesh, the knight drew Slashy and blocked the dagger instantaneously. Fighter remarked, "Oh, almost got me that time, BlackMage! You almost had me." Zoog told, "Consider yourselves free, but should any of you ever destroy life so recklessly as you did today, I won't hold back. That much I can promise." And with that, Zoog disappeared. RedMage commented, "Wow, that was, that was, I'm starstruck!" Thief told Fighter and BlackMage, "Now's a better time than ever to ignore a certain student of red magery." The four warriors marched down the path, leading to who-knows-where, with RedMage blabbering, "Imagine who else we could run into! We just might meet a real bad-to-the-bone dragoon! Or a pink-haired princess! Or a frog knight! Or an actual, factual . . ."

Elsewhere in the world, the Moogle that BlackMage had goblin kicked was still flying through the air. The Moogle was long dead, ever since BlackMage inflicted his spell which killed the forest creature instantly, but its earthly body was still moving through the air, and now, something stood in the way of the dead Moogle; an ancient castle. The Moogle crashed through one of the innumerable windows of the castle, shattering the pane into thousands of minute shards. It landed in what looked like a kitchen. There was a single individual in the kitchen; a man dressed fully in iron armor. He was holding a cake covered in chocolate. The moment the Moogle corpse broke in, the man let out a girlish scream, and nervously threw his cake onto the ceiling. The man muttered to himself, "There's a dead cat in the kitchen, there's a dead cat in the kitchen, oh my gracious! The window's broken! There's sharp, sharp pieces of glass everywhere! Oh my cake! My cake, I spent all day preparing that!" With that, the man walked to the now broken window. He looked outside, with a sudden intensity overtaking him. He shook his fist, and cursed, "DAMN YOU FOREST IMPS!!! I'LL HAVE MY VENGEANCE YET!!!!"

The end.

[Gabriel Frostfell]

*coughs*

Well...
That was...

Hurm...

*rubs neck*
I...dragons...shoulder...

...Well, that was unexpected... ._.

.........
.................
......................
You know what? Even that will not change my mind.

*pull her hat on eyes and sides with Red Mage*

I'm with him thick and thin, no matter if he grows dragon heads in weird places and goes into homicidal rages against old friends without any explicit reasons!
*cross arms*
I say!

Now, I should have posted this since soooooooo long!




IMAGE REMOVE'D FOR OBVIOUS REASONS

:whee:

((Sorry for putting artwork in this thread! It's done since sooo long and I had the urge to finally post it (even tought the scan killed it) but right now I should be doing my homework, and I don't have the time to reply to everyone's very nice comments. You don't even have to give me feedback here as the picture will go in the fanart thread as soon as I have enough time to write my replies. Kisses!))

:: peels picture off the forum and runs :: Imma borrow this, be back with it later! :: decides to make present for random forum go-er, and it just so happens to be the fangirl of his favorite character, what a coincidence huh? ::

:rmage: Hmm. if only I had a few more points in my Knowledge - Frostfells, I'd know what he was up to!

[Seran]

http://www.nuklearpower.com/daily.php?date=011109
http://www.nuklearpower.com/daily.php?date=020708
End of both comics...first Black Mage suggests Red Mage be left to die, second he basically insults Fighter's ability to discern they had found the Cave of No Return.
http://www.nuklearpower.com/daily.php?date=020814
He's evil. Evil backfires on him in the nightmare.
http://www.nuklearpower.com/daily.php?date=020825
Expresses obvious cruelty by dancing on "Fighter's Grave", hoping he'll die. Backfire!
http://www.nuklearpower.com/daily.php?date=040120
Merciless stabbing cruelty in the eye. Backfire!
http://www.nuklearpower.com/daily.php?date=040224
Openly talking back to a devil that is probably the manifest horror of the hellfire and insanity that is evil. Showing mercilessness with undaunted "logic". Backfire?

(Hey, going through the comics, I noticed the Scholar appeared various times -- as a seller of human skulls, as an anchorman, and as Red Mage's dad!)

http://www.nuklearpower.com/daily.php?date=040417
Red Mage displays hosility. Inputted.
http://www.nuklearpower.com/daily.php?date=040429
Killing an innocent citizen without showing that he actually asked a question. Cruelty, backfire!
http://www.nuklearpower.com/daily.php?date=040504
Attempts, poorly, to deny Fighter's presence with a stab in the head.

(Look, a recolored Scholar performing therapy on Garland...and Vilbert was a recolored Scholar...)

http://www.nuklearpower.com/daily.php?date=040513
Ruins Red Mage's hat. Did he really stab him though?
http://www.nuklearpower.com/daily.php?date=040527
Kills Fighter without hesita -- eww. Next co -- eww. Also kills Red Mage and Thief.
http://www.nuklearpower.com/daily.php?date=041028
Mocks White Mage.

+++

Fine it was, for as they soared above, some would glance up and some would merely finish off their weakened foes. Where was Fighter and Thief? Groups of monsters, elves, humans, and dwarves completely covered the grounds of the battlefield, some indistinguishable and some very easy to see. He even saw Vesus destroying a massive number of enemies with a destructive black spell that would have killed him if Vesus wasn't protected by a white spell. Elsewhere was Skit, but it took him a while to register who it was. Black Mage glanced at his slashed arm, which was still bleeding freely, and swallowed hard as darkness continued to consume the world around him. Bahamut's flying was uneasy, and Black Mage was afraid that he would simply drop into the battle if they were not careful, so every time that the dragon king descended Black Mage would lean back and make him fly up. He swore that he saw a Chocobo-man fighting in the ranks as well. On top of the highest hill, which they swiftly soared over, was where Fighter and Thief were fighting with all strength and force that they had access to. Fighter was using an impossible number of swords, but Black Mage guessed that he had brought twelve swords along with him. He was mounted on the back of some sort of horse clothed in armor. Thief rode upon the back of his infernal steed, with knives made of lava and spells from Hell itself. Fighter's army seemed to be losing terribly, however.
"Hey, what do you mean there's no safe place for anyone anymore?"
Bahamut groaned weakly in protest to speaking, but he explained nonetheless.
"It seems that great corruption has captured the hearts of your friends. The emperor is seeking to conquer everything mercilessly."
"That sounds like something I'd do."
"The ruler from Hell wants all life to be erased except for the earth's and the elves."
"I'd just kill everything."
"The half-god wants to be an absolute god to make this world pay for what it did to him."
"Yeah, same here."
"But you have no power, and they are all close to fulfilling their new desires..."
Black Mage fell silent at this, and he gulped again. No matter where he would go, he would forever be plagued by torture and insanity, never being freed from a dark, dark prison in which he would be harmed and tormented for the rest of his life. Worst of all, it would all be caused by the three people who had put him down so many times because they were all morons -- or, at least...they used to be. Yes, it seemed even he would admit their newfound strength and terror.
Bahamut landed on the top of the once-magnificent castle, which had grown dark in the night and wicked in the flames. Thunder boomed in the distance and lightning scratched the sky, with black clouds swallowing the night whole. Rain was sure to fall soon. Black Mage, glad that he had no trouble getting Bahamut to land in the right place, slid off the dragon king's back and dashed away without even a goodbye. Poor Bahamut curled up and tended to his hurting wing.
He raced down the stairs while he jumped over corpses and glanced at each one, looking for a familiar face. The ninja with red eyes he had encountered the night before slumped against the wall, eyes wide, with a lance piercing his throat. One of the women who had scuttled around the kitchen laid on the floor with a brutal blow to her crushed head. A servant hung from the ceiling. A Chocobo chick had been thrown against the wall and was a dead little body on the ground. Black Mage felt himself shiver with fear at not the sight of the corpses, but rather at the thought that Thief and Fighter caused this on their own. He escaped into the dining hall, where there were less carcasses as though most had difficulty surviving in the smaller hallways and staircases, but there were still bodies everywhere on the tables, the chairs, the floor, and even the walls. He could hear a voice quietly crying to herself...or perhaps, to someone who had died? It sounded like a mournful singing, a prayer for the deceased to find peace. At first, what he had heard was something about 'Life', as if a white mage had been trying to cast a spell. He stumbled over corpses, trembling with only pure dread. There sat Seran, her white robes stained with even more blood, her head hung and her brown hair limping over her shoulder. She seemed, in a way, traumatized. Her right hand was delicately feeling the steel chestplate of a dead Vargus. Her other hand was gripping onto the wrist of Quickman, who was half-alive and had some of her wounds healed by a Cure-2 spell. She started blankly at Black Mage, who gaped at the blue sword that had stabbed Vargus in the chest. It was one of Fighter's swords. Seran raised her head, tears visible on her cheeks, but she neither sobbed nor bawled. Her expression didn't strain with guilt or sadness, but she wept all the same, and yet Black Mage didn't even notice her.
"Is that...?"
The young white mage lowered her head, stared at the hilt of Fighter's sword, then fiercely gripped it and yanked it out of the corpse's chest. She held it out to Black Mage. It was as though she was imploring him to take the sword.

+++

By the way, Red_Mage...nice job.
Celebren, I knew you'd do something like that. Hehehe.
*Thinking: Manipulator of minds, predicter of mortals, I will dominate the world! Wait! How many times have I told myself no world domination? No, it's not going to work...no!*

[DarkCORN!]

Holy crap. You killed Vargus. Not cool. This is still a nightmare, right? I thought the nightmare was only part of the story.

[Seran]

Don't worry...it's still all a horrible nightmare. He'll wake up soon enough with an unpleasant end to the dream. I'm such a terrible force of cruelty. How do I do it? It's a wonder how I always hold back from recklessly hurting others in my school and instead enforcing chivalry...

[Kila_angel]

Cool stories people!! Poor Vargus...Fighter, you suck for killin' him! Red_Mage, funny how the moogle crashed into Garland's kitchen *LOL* poor thing....<Chrisgun(a person in my comic):Damn,I wanna do that goblin kick to Garland now.>

[Quickman X]

...Fighter...
...I can recommend a very good therapist for you.
But she lives out here in California.
..then again... if you're attacking forumites, then you're in severe need of theraputic help.
And a hug.
*hugs*

So... anyone mind if I do the next bit of the interactive story? Unless someone already has an idea, I've got a bit o' violence to get outta my system.

[Seran]

You can do it. I've been dying for someone to continue teh interactive story. Dying. Parched. I have all the other Black Mage updates, but I need to see some wild violence between the motivated Dark Warriors and the broken Light Warriors.

I was going to say their weapons were in their tents though. Buahaha...

[Quickman X]

You can do it. I've been dying for someone to continue teh interactive story. Dying. Parched. I have all the other Black Mage updates, but I need to see some wild violence between the motivated Dark Warriors and the broken Light Warriors.

I was going to say their weapons were in their tents though. Buahaha...
Mild violence? Hmm.

...but what can I say... the LW are in pretty deep... ah... trouble.
...
*maniacal laugh*

[Seran]

Wild. Wild. With gore and blood splattered all over the ground with the leaves becoming crimson in the rain of blood and the sky turning scarlet with the battle. Yes! The violent war that would mark only one small point of the Apocalypse! Ragnarok! Armageddon! Doomsday! The time of death that will bring gloom and darkness to the future, where nothing shall exist except for the smallest bit of dying light!

...Sorry. My evil instincts kicked in again. Ah, er, anyway...trouble? Good...good.

[DarkCORN!]

Post the next BM's nightmare.

[MetalPsycho]

Mind if I join in this little escapade? Thanks. :D

Hell Have No Fury...

Chapter 1: Danger in the Day...

"You. Are. A. Fuckin! MORON!"

Fire and sword worked their way furiously through the clearing's grass. The one who was shouting was a strangely dressed Black Mage, his face (like all Black Mages) was shrouded in the shadows because of the special enchantment on his big blue cloth hat. He also wore a blue cape, weirdly colored clown pants, and funny shoes with the toes curled up. In front of him was a taller man dressed in red armor, also with a cape, and a large red hat with a plume of ridiculous size sticking out of it. He had white hair, pail skin, and a slight feminine face that was full of fright at the moment.

"How was I suppose to know they could see us?" asked Red Mage in desperation, looking around to see if any more adversaries were around. In the distance, outside the clearing, they both heard the steady slashing of many swords as well as the thud of something hard connecting with something fleshy. Joining these sounds were the grunts, growls, howls, and roars of at least seven werewolves.

"You IDIOT! They're canines! They could still SMELL us! I TOLD you that!" yelled Black Mage, his fierce yellow eyes glowing with pure malice and rage, "How did you even convince me to go along with it?!"

Red Mage just gave a sheepish grin and shrugs his shoulders. "Oops."

Black Mage shook with a terrible rage. "Why do I let your heart continue beating?" he said.

Before Red Mage could answer, he heard a growl from behind him. A great white wolf-man came charging at them from the bushes behind them, its eyes ablaze and it's tongue hanging from it's open jaws. It ran on all fours to move faster, but that didn't help as a combination of a fireball and a sudden freezing hit the beast at the same time. It died instantly, not ten feet from it's prey.

Red and Black Mage put their hands back to their sides. "Never mind," said BM, "Let's just get Fighter and Thief and get out of here! I'll stab your brains out later."

Red Mage, still looking indigent, simply ran in a random direction. Black Mage followed, but kept up his taunting from behind the crimson warrior. "I'll be doing you a favor, really. Without those useless things, you'll never get us into trouble again!"

The whole thing had been a fiasco from the start. Thief, in his greed, had stolen all the nearby town of Gillmany's riches. When he heard about the job offering the local lords were putting out for anyone stupid enough to fight off a local tribe of werewolves, he had accepted, hoping to sue them for not having the money once he got back. It would probably have worked too, but Red Mage's plan to infiltrate the camp and kill their leader, Lord Fenris, had failed miserably because Red Mage was a moron. Luckily, the werewolves of this camp were different from the green ones around Corneria. Red Mage mentioned that these werewolves went by "DnD Ruleings" or some crap like that. Black Mage didn't care. Still, they were quite a bit easier to kill this way.

The duo of magic managed to kill two more of the beasts on their way through the forest. They soon found themselves watching Fighter, who was using his dual sword-chuck fighting style to lay the smack down (or should it be slash down) on a trio of werewolves, all at once. Red Mage thought of helping, but soon realized Fighter could finish the fight himself. Black Mage thought of killing all three of them with a huge fireball. So he did. Or tried too.

The roaring ball of flame hit the group squarely, killing one of the werewolves, greatly wounding the other enough for the incoming slash from Fighter to kill it instantly, and scorching the body of the third, who was already decapitated by the time Black Mage fired. Fighter, on the other hand, was virtually unharmed, besides some scorched hair, his armor protecting him well. BM, remembering the fire resistant armor now, remembered to use lightning next time.

"Hey guys," said Fighter, running up to them eagerly as he sheathed his sword-chucks, "Guess what I've been doing!"

BM just hang his head. RM, equally stunned by Fighter's lack of Int, decided to change the subject. "Where's Thief?", he asked.

Thief, it turned out, was fairing better than any of them. Werewolves liked to rip things to death with their claws, but they found it hard to do that when they would suddenly find a twig or rock thrown through their eye sockets into their brains with pinpoint accuracy before they could even reach him. The ninja was using his powers well, to say the least. Ten minutes after meeting up with Fighter, the group of three found Thief scrounged by dead werewolves.

"What took you guys so long?" he asked, elven smugness goozing out of ever part of him.

"Shut up and tell me you killed them all," said BM, his gloved hands clenched into fists.

"Yea, I think I got them all," said Thief.

"I helped too," yelled Fighter, "Cause I'm a hel-"

STAB! BM's dagger was suddenly far into Fighter's cerebral cortex. "Good, now let's get back to town so you can sue the citizens silly, kay?" asked BM.

Red Mage was leaning up against a tree rubbing his chest. "Oh yes. Lots of dead werewolves. Sweet sweet battle experience, you're so good to me!"

BM and Thief looked at Red Mage with very puzzled looks. "Please?!" BM yelled.

"Fine fine fine. Let's get back to town and get our reward." said Thief. He then turned his head and whispered, "So that I can sue them for not having it and then kill them all off with Law Ninja and start my own housing development."

BM sighed and put his hand on his forehead. "I would like to repeat that you no longer need that much money, your father living and all."

"And I'd like to repeat for you," said Thief, "That talking back to the team leader may have serious financial repercussions."

"Reprocu-? What are you babbling about?!" BM said as he flailed his arms, "You won everything we do, even our lives! How exactly do you expect me to pay you with something you already own?! Less you want to try fucking yourself over, just step back Blue Hair."

This continued for a while, as usual. Fighter eventually recovered and they eventually pulled Red Mage off of his 'experience tree'. The four Warriors of Light made their way back to the sleepy town of Gillmany.

Unknown to any of them, a tall and shadowy figure lay in the trees, far from them. "So, he's the one." said the figure in a whispered and fluid voice that dripped evil. "This won't be too hard. I'll have him in my grasp by sunrise. Hmhmhmhm."

***
End Chapter 1.

Chapter 2: ...Demon in the Night coming soon.

[Seran]

Fun! Several parts I did find funny. Some punctuation used incorrectly with the quotations, but hey, no one can be perfect. Not that I know of anyway.

Thief even has rights to their, er...biographies...

[MetalPsycho]

Oh, sorry. I was kind of rushing with the spellchecking and forgot to go over punctuation. Next chapter will be more well done, promise! :D

[Seran]

Hey, that's alright.

+++

"He killed him."
"Who?"
"The emperor."
Black Mage could have gone pale, and as he took the sword, he held the bloody blade flat on the palms of both hands and stared down at it.
"That's not like him."
The girl nodded, then continued to hum her requiem while Quickman slowly pushed herself up. Black Mage only stared, stared down at the sleeping expression on Vargus's face, then turned around to see that Matoya, too, had been slain. She was nearly bald, as her hair had been burnt off her head and some of her clothing was scorched. She must've been killed by Thief or one of his minions. Under the table a dark figure moved uneasily, painfully, and crawled out, his shoulders and chest heaving as he held back a sob of anguish. The figure was none other than Drizz'l, who looked as though he had been completely tortured. He crawled over to the white mage, seeking some relief from his pain and wounds. He shuddered in agony. While Black Mage stared around at the carnage, a door was suddenly flung open at the other end of the hall through which he had come. He didn't recognize the figure through the darkness and the light. It stood there, its head limp, its arms holding the two doors open, with blood splattered across all over its body and a manic gaze in its eyes. The stranger breathed heavily.
It slowly walked in, with a torn and ripped cape fluttering behind it. The figure's expression looked dazed and exhausted, but as Black Mage stared at him, he thought he could see a hint of amusement. Insane, mad amusement. The figure managed to lift its head and smile at them. At first its eyes settled on Vargus and Seran, then Drizz'l and Quickman, then finally Black Mage with the blue sword in his hands. The stranger swayed.
"Hi," he said quietly in a broken voice. "Let's play, old friend." His voice was hoarse and hissed like a delusional snake. "Pal."
Walking in through the same doors came someone who was much more familiar. His features were not as distorted with wounds and blood, and his blue hair, pointed ears, and tan skin would easily give him away nonetheless. Thief walked up next to the swaying Fighter, and put his hand on the emperor's shoulder. His smile was more calm, but terrible intent flashed in his eyes.
"Yes. Let's play, BM. Step away from the dead people so we can play."
Black Mage's jaw dropped open and he backed away, nearly tripping over the dark elf, his eyes focused on the two. He heard a great thump from above, from the ceiling, a sound that could only be created from the falling body of Bahamut. That could only mean that Red Mage had come.
"G-get back!" he exclaimed, gripping the hilt of the sword and directing its tip toward the two. He stepped behind Drizz'l, stumbled past Seran, staggered over Quickman, and backed away into the wall. Thief laughed coldly at him as Black Mage became suddenly aware of how serious this dream had been the entire time. "You're not real! Just turn around and get the fuck out of -- "
"Ooh, cursing won't do you any good," Fighter sang, giggling next to Thief. Fighter must have lost the battle, but he was still willing to kill one more friend, one more ally.
What will it take for you to wake up?
I...I don't know...
Well, whatever. This is actually quite a bit of fun to watch.
What? B-but -- !
Black Mage glanced around uneasily. Thief's head slowly tilted to the side onto his right shoulder, and Fighter only continued to smile insanely at Black Mage with a drowsy expression, like he was going to die and was happy how he would die, like he was confident that this would save him from death or something. He could see Seran cringing beneath their shadows, but she didn't dare to move away from Vargus. Fighter was the first to walk toward Black Mage, unsheathing a sword and holding it in his left hand. He did the same with his right. The emperor walked past Seran, tapping her once on the head with the left sword, and she bowed her head while he approached Black Mage. The mage shivered with Fighter's other sword in his hands, wishing he knew how to wield a sword without hurting himself. When Fighter got too close, Black Mage cowered and fled along the wall to the nearest door. The warrior calmly watched him as though this was all a game to him. Black Mage bolted along through the hallway, toward a staircase up which he nearly ran if it weren't for Red Mage, with his crimson hair, already waiting for him at the top of the steps with a triumphant smile. His sword gleamed with dragon blood.
Black Mage turned back around and tried to flee down the stairs, but Thief and Fighter had already cornered him. Red Mage followed him down, his green dragon breathing fire gleefully as it sniffed at the air, detecting every sort of meat and flesh that was laying around. Thief stepped forward while Black Mage stood there, frightened, glancing around at all of the blood and death that had suddenly surrounded him. Why had he not seen it sooner? He needed to run from this nightmare. But no matter where he looked, there was either a wall, or a friend just waiting to kill him. He looked at Red Mage and backed away from the dragon, but Thief suddenly pushed him forward toward the demi-god, who raised his sword and struck across Black Mage's chest in a horizontal blow. He stumbled back, only for his spine at the bottom of his neck to meet the point of Fighter's weapon.
"For my ribcage," said Red Mage, patting his own chest. It still looked injured.
Fighter's sword stabbed at Black Mage's back and he jumped forward, trembling. The sword's point had left a shallow mark at the bottom of his neck, in the back. The amber light of flames emerged from the darkness, and he turned around to see Thief playing with fire in his hands.
"Can you dance, BM?"
Black Mage was tired and frightened. He had suffered enough of their games. He turned and ran at Red Mage to push him aside, and once he did, he dashed up the stairs while Thief's fire pounced forth and caught the tail of his dirty cloak. He tripped at the top of the stairs, writhed and waved the tail of his cloak back and forth to be rid of the flames, then continued to flee along the hallway. It seemed rather familiar to him, as though he had been there before. In fact, he had, for it led up to the chamber he had long ago gone through, where he met the red-eyed ninja, and where Fighter's bedroom lay near. He burst into that chamber, looking around at the bloodstained designs with even more horror, and he immediately raced toward the hallway where Fighter's room was. But as he fled past it, he saw another murdered figure on the bed. He stopped, retreated, and peeked through the crack of the doorway. He couldn't see who it was who had been slaughtered, and so he pushed open the door. He walked into the room, stood in front of the bed, and stared down at all of the blood that covered the once magnificent bed. A slow gasp came into his lungs as he realized that he was staring at another one of Fighter's swords piercing the heart of none other than White Mage -- murdered. He slowly lifted his head as he felt more misery crushing his spirit. Words, very small words, were written in blood on the wall, but from the end of the bed he could see what the words were.
"I love you."
Black Mage stumbled away, unable to stand any more of the nightmare. He was given no time to react. Someone suddenly gripped his hair with painful force, and a choked cry of hurt escaped from him. Black Mage made a feeble attempt to move his head and he saw the person gripping his head. It was Fighter, with a sinister expression in his eyes and a smile to match its evil. He dragged Black Mage out of the room, where Red Mage and Thief awaited them. Fighter dragged Black Mage along the hallway, with Thief and Red Mage following. He pushed him into another room. Black Mage had tears in his eyes from the shock and the agony. He whimpered while Fighter continued to clutch his hair -- and while Red Mage and Thief joined them, Thief to his left and Red Mage to his right, Fighter grabbed his hat and tossed it aside. Black Mage saw his own face in the mirror that hung from the wall in front of him.

[DarkCORN!]

Woah. Thats crazy.

[Mondt]

So are you just taking into account that this is a dream and not "This heppens because of this?" Because most of this makes less than no sense at all.

Or it's just me.

[MetalPsycho]

Yikes. o__o

[Quickman X]

Ah hell, Seran's approaching 666 posts.

The last bit of the nightmare nearly made me cry. *sniffle* ...you saw NOTHING.

Can't update the interactive story tonight -- I'm whipping off this message at my animation class. Will try to update tomorrow.
Bear with me, mmkay?
And being the jerk I am, I think I'll torment :fighter: a bit more.

By t3h way...
Wild. Wild. With gore and blood splattered all over the ground with the leaves becoming crimson in the rain of blood and the sky turning scarlet with the battle. Yes! The violent war that would mark only one small point of the Apocalypse! Ragnarok! Armageddon! Doomsday! The time of death that will bring gloom and darkness to the future, where nothing shall exist except for the smallest bit of dying light!

...Sorry. My evil instincts kicked in again. Ah, er, anyway...trouble? Good...good.
I DENY EVERYTHING! IT WASN'T ME! A WIZARD DID IT!

[Seran]

He was screaming, screaming like he was being whipped, screaming like he was burning. He was shrieking like a child being tortured. He was shrieking like a baby being brutally and ruthlessly butchered. While the voice of the dark god called out to him, trying to urge him into calming down, he screamed at the person who was shaking him furiously and screamed at all the other voices shouting to one another.
Shut up, you fool!
The god who had given him his blue mage status was not pleased with the panic.
"BM! BM! Wake up, it's only a nightmare! It's only a nightmare!"
Fighter was desperate to awaken his poor friend, as he shook Black Mage furiously to make him open his eyes.
"BM! Black Mage!"
He flung himself against Fighter, crying.
"Oh, ye dark gods, it was horrible...just horrible..."
"It's okay, BM! You're awake now."
Black Mage sniffled, rubbing his eyes furiously with his sleeve, and saw that he was sitting in a tent as he looked around at his surroundings. He wasn't outside anymore. From the corner and shadows of the tent sat Thief. Thief was watching him carefully, his fingers pinching the points of his ears. At the entrance stood a shocked Red Mage. His expression was full of wonder and worry, his red hat hiding the same face that Black Mage had always known. Kneeling next to Fighter was White Mage, her hands delicately covering her mouth with fright. Black Mage stared into Fighter's eyes, which held the same kindness and naivety as they had done so in the past. He looked at White Mage's beautiful eyes, recognizing the shine of purity in them, and remembering the many times she had beat him up for a pick-up line. He turned his head and looked into Thief's, full of greed but now gleaming with thought. Black Mage then finally looked to Red Mage, familiar with that usual twink shine in his eyes. He was suddenly embarrassed and ashamed of himself. He panicked for no reason at all, in the presence of the people he had always known. It wasn't his fault though, right? The people in his nightmare were so much more different. When he was aware of how lucky he had been the entire time, however, his face contorted into a sob, and he cried as he covered his hidden face with his gloved hands. Fighter patted him on the back.
"That must have been one bad dream," he heard Red Mage comment. He nodded with relief.
"Good thing I brought you in here when it started raining last night," answered the voice of Thief. "Probably would have gotten worse."
Thief wasn't so bad after all. Black Mage failed to stop himself from hugging Fighter, still crying, and then Fighter hugged him back, although he had no clue why they were hugging all of a sudden. Soon Black Mage realized who he was hugging. He tore away, spluttering, and rubbed his eyes and nose. While he did, he could hear White Mage lend her voice to him.
"Are you okay?"
"Huh?" He raised his head, looked at her innocent expression, and nodded. "Yeah, I'm-I'm fine. Perfectly -- perfectly f-fine." Black Mage sighed, gazing around at the right friends, the right people, and noticed how bright the sun was outside. "Give me another hour to sleep."
"Oh no. You're going out there and pulling that boulder."
"You brought that in?"
White Mage turned to Thief, bewildered that he was crazy enough to drag a boulder all the way to the river.
"Why? And how come you used the others to do your work?"
"Well, I'm an elf, they're human, so it's perfectly natural."
"It -- it is not! Thief, you can't go around doing infantile things like this!"
"Who says it's infantile...?"
Black Mage laughed flatly, but he leaned back and curled up on the sleeping bag. Did he dare to sleep again? He closed his eyes as the voices of the others floated around him. For some reason, he felt at peace, like he wouldn't have another nightmare. While Fighter leaned against him, his elbow on Black Mage's shoulder, it seemed that the world would spare him for that moment. His mind drifted off while Red Mage argued in a friendly way with someone he didn't know. The person sounded like Celebren. Maybe it was Celebren. Black Mage opened his eyes for a moment, looking at Thief, to see Thief had lit a candle and was holding it in front of his eyes. His eyes seemed to turn red from the flame's light. Black Mage remembered the ninja with the red eyes from his nightmare. He closed his eyes again, and finally went back into a more peaceful sleep without any evil or terror plaguing him.

+++

I post very often, that I do.
Next nightmare?
Red Mage.

[MetalPsycho]

I can only imagine what RM's nightmare will be.

As for me? Well I'd love to work on the fic and all...but...yase, I JUST got Advent Children and this other new game and well...hehe...you'll see it Monday, porobably.

[Robert Paulson]

I have a tendency to throw in esoteric references to games I've played, so once again, I'll provide insider details right here and now.

Yes, that was indeed Sora that the LWs ran into during part 1. You know what's weird though? I've never played any of the Kingdom Hearts games. I was just going off information I've read on the internet, so I hope my portrayal of Sora wasn't too far off.

In part 2, when Thief said the only thing he found of interest in the forest was a Moogle suit is an homage to Final Fantasy 5. Also, all of the Moogles, except for Zoog, look and behave like the Moogles from FF5.

Zoog was made up entirely by me, but he is based off Mog from Final Fantasy 6, even though my fanfic would have you believe it was the other way around.

And lastly, in the end when RedMage was saying that he could meet all these heroes he knows about, the "bad-to-the-bone dragoon" would be Kain from FF4, the "pink-haired princess" would be Lenna (spelt Reina in the PS1 version) from FF5, and the "frog knight" would be Frog from Chrono Trigger.

And lastly, a confession. I didn't write any of these fanfics to the best of my ability. I could've been way more descriptive, but chose not to. I didn't have any notes either, I just made these up on the spot for the most part. This was something I did for fun. Oh and lastly,

Next nightmare? Red Mage.

This should be interesting. I'm late in my praising, but I love your writing style, Seran. They say you either got it or you don't. As a fellow writer, lemme tell you right now, you got it, Seran. And I also liked the entries by CelebrenIthil, Quickman X, and MetalPsycho. At this point, I'm completely burned out for more ideas of 8-bit fanfics, so no more entries by me for a long time. (Unless if the fans demand it.)

[Seran]

I was aware that the "frog knight" was Frog, but I don't remember his real name. Was it not Glenn or something of the sort?

Oh, I didn't think you'd say that. I'm not all confident about my abilities, you see.

I saw Advent Children four times, MetalPsycho. Hehe. Oh, and the thread also mentions that Final Fantasy fanfictions can be included, not just 8-Bit Theatre...did anyone notice?

[Quickman X]

Black Mage failed to stop himself from hugging Fighter, still crying, and then Fighter hugged him back, although he had no clue why they were hugging all of a sudden. Soon Black Mage realized who he was hugging. He tore away, spluttering, and rubbed his eyes and nose.
AAWWWWWW... :heart: So cute...
That made me smile.

::edit:: Aw, man, Seran, 665 posts.

[DarkCORN!]

Woah. Nice. Red Mage's nightmare will probably be him being incredibly weak and naked.

[Seran]

Well, it will involve something about Dungeons and Dragons. He's already had a nightmare of incredibly low stats discluding Charisma without clothes on. Oh, the horror and shame...

Hey, Quickman...is that Harry Potter? [off-topicness!]

[Quickman X]

Hey, Quickman...is that Harry Potter? [off-topicness!]
Alas, yeah.
People are convinced that I look like him.
It greatly irritates me. My fellow high-schoolers think I look like him.
My friends think I look like him.
My bloody family thinks I look like him.
They just can't take a hint.
Even if it's applied with a sledgehammer.
...hell, I'm changing my avatar.

I'm on a sugar-high right now. Twitching. And typing more of the interactive story. I'll post as soon as I'm done.
And Mister Fuzzy DoomBringer... SHALL RETURN~!

'Kay. I'm gonna add more in, like, half an hour, but here's what I've got now.
~
“Easy, yes,” growled Drizz’l softly, “But… well, boring. I come all the way out here to exact my revenge on this… human… only to find that someone’s done it for me? What’s this world coming to?” Sneering, he landed a cruel kick to Fighter’s side. “Well… might as well have some fun.” Raising one boot, he placed it – hard – on the warrior’s chest, just to the left of the bloody rend in his armor. Even as he ground down with his heel, the company heard something crack, saw Fighter’s jaw clench, saw another bead of blood roll down from the corner of his mouth, tracing his cheek.
“Hey, what are you – ahhh, shit!” Even as Red Mage rose to his feet and grasped for his shortblade, the thought occurred to him…
…that he had left it in his tent.
“What a shame,” came a flowing voice from the mage’s right. “Well, I suppose we’ll have to fight the way the Dungeon Master intended…” Shocked, Red Mage spun to face his assailant, his sleek white hair whipping across his face and his hands instinctively lifted into a defensive position.
“You! But… you’re dead! We killed you!”
“Not quite,” said the vampire dryly, “Though you did severely impair my astounding intellect and ability to write such touching poems as…” He trailed off into a long, angsty, and downright emo list of his woes, which barely even constituted poetry (had it not rhymed, it would have been a complete failure). In response, the mimic artist raised one snowy eyebrow, then turned, directing his icy amethyst gaze upon the armored figure standing before him… and nearly burst out laughing.
True, he was in some rather deep shit (pardonnez-vous mon francais, s’il vous plait). True, one of his comrades was in no shape to be out in the wilderness like this, let alone fight. True, he was unarmed… but none of this managed to detract from the sheer hilarity of the situation.
Garland stood before the four adventurers, sneering down at them. His arms folded and his cape singed and tattered, his charred armor seeming so dark as to absorb light, his glacier-colored eyes burning through the darkness of his menacingly spiked helmet, he looked the epitome of evil…
…except for the small, battered, rather huggable toy bear hanging from his scorched cape by one of its long black claws.
Red Mage looked at Thief. Thief looked at Black Mage. Black Mage looked at Fighter, realized he wasn’t likely to look back, and glanced over to Red Mage again. For once, a mutual understanding seemed to pass between the three – don’t comment. A wise decision.

'Kay. I'm gonna add more in, like, half an hour, but here's what I've got now.
Okay, so I lied. Tomorrow morning it is, then.
::edit:: ...I'm a very, very, very bad liar. Bad Quickman. Bad. No cookie.

...SCORE! Next bit.

A similar exchange passed between the warriors of the shadow, but the message was far more significant… attack.
--
The first blood went to Thief. Even as the Dark Warriors exchanged their meaningful looks, he leapt forward with all the speed of summer lightning and landed a harsh kick across Bikke’s face. The pirate’s face contorted in rage, and in a flash he was after the ninja, slashing wildly with his cutlass… and managing to miss each and every blow as his foe ducked and dodged with the nimble grace of an experienced fighter.
Spotting an opening, Red Mage in turn lunged at Vilbert, hand raised to cast his damage dice. Fangs bared, the dark vampire leapt at his assailant, eyes shining a brilliant crimson.
Then came Black Mage and Garland. The duo glanced around in a rather bewildered manner at the chaos surrounding them, unsure of the best course of action… then they spotted each other. Neither was currently engaged in combat, so within moments the sorcerer had wrenched his knife, still stained with Fighter’s lifeblood, from its sheath, turning on Garland and slashing across his helmet, the knife screeching as it contacted the steel helm. Garland yelped in surprise, yanked forth his longsword, and drove it at Black Mage, just barely missing his throat.
Drizz’l stood by Fighter as the scene of destruction unfolded, lips twisted into a contemptuous sneer, leaning on his sword with his foot still holding the young knight down. He barely blinked as Vilbert sank his fangs into Red Mage’s forearm, as Bikke was driven backwards into a tree, jaw at an odd angle, blood oozing down his face, as Garland brought his blade sweeping across Black Mage’s leg in a spray of blood. The screams of pain and rage seemed almost musical to him.
A moment later, as he glanced down, it occurred to him that the wretched human who had stolen his swords, his honor, and most importantly his pride now lay before him, wounded and weak. Now… now he really could exact his long-dreamt-of vengeance.
Slipping his sword free of the ground, he placed its point lightly at Fighter’s throat. He would take his time, he decided. …no. Fighter would probably find some way to pull through. Drizz’l would end this here and now. Raising his blade, he brought it slicing down…
“Augh!” Caught off guard, the sword no longer drove true, sweeping instead down, down, and grazing Fighter’s shoulder, drawing forth yet another narrow stream of blood. Gaze darting around to see what had hit him, Drizz’l saw…
A die. A single, lonely, red, twenty-sided die. It had seemingly come from nowhere, but it had flown true, contacting solidly with the dark elf’s temple and leaving a shallow gash.
“Who on –”
“Me,” growled Red Mage. “Me. I can’t… let you… win.” Drizz’l raised an amused eyebrow.
“Oh, so? Why?”
Red Mage gave him a blank look, brushing his crimson-stained hair out of his eyes. “Have you any idea… any idea… how much experience this is worth?”
It was then, as the shadow elf opened his mouth to retort, that the unexpected happened.
Fighter slowly rose to his feet, and the expression twisting his pale features was one of sheer, primal fury.

[Seran]

Amethyst...beautiful color, it is.

Mister FuzzyDoomBringer's back! Look, he's back! He's back!
[Ooh, look...Sephiroth! Aweeessooome...]
Must...not...laugh...especially when Fighter's in pain...

[Quickman X]

Has next update almost ready (if that's okay.)
Will post as soon as possible.
Will also officially begin the violence...
...heh heh.
::edit:: Just as contrast, my music's "Tentative," by System of a Down.
::bastard child of edit:: Right, some of it's been added to my last post.

[Seran]

Sure thing, Quickman. My inspiration for this battle is One-Winged Angel from Advent Children...and I know just where to find it.

[DarkCORN!]

Huh. I guess RM rolled fighters constitution check to wake up or something (thats what the D20 was.).

[Seran]

I like this fight already. -Waiting for the rest of the update...-

There are a lot of pauses in the writing when it comes to commas. I did that a lot back then.

[MetalPsycho]

Chapter 2: ...Demons in the Night

"Are we there yet?" asked Fighter, his armor making soft clang noises as he walked.

"Thank the Gods of Evil AND Good yes," BM said with an exhale as they approached the city boarders of Gillmany.

In front of them, Red Mage and Thief were having a small disagreement.

"I'm telling you, there are probably a dozen side quests in this one town. Sleepy little towns exist purely as side quest fodder. Or maybe one HUGE quest that takes in the entire town at once!" said Red Mage, his eyes ablaze with ideas of the amount of experience they'd get, "You can't just go destroying it NOW!"

"Watch me," said Thief, his face not even moving besides the occasional blink not even his elven superiority could prevent forever. Still, besides those two words, he barely seemed to acknowledge Red Mage's entire existence.

"Come on. At least wait one day. You can destroy these people's homes tomorrow and we'll be loaded with exp AND gill. What do you say?"

Thief finally stopped and turned to Red Mage. Behind him, Fighter came to a screeching halt, almost bumping into the ninja. BM wasn't so lucky (he was looking at a bird on a branch and wondering what was better; fried by lightning or fried by fire), and ran right into the heavily armored and surprisingly sturdy warrior. He fell on his magical tush with an "Omph!"

"Ok, fine. Come morning, this place is gone. You have until then. Besides, that will give me time to get the Law Ninja's assembled."

"You know," said BM as he got up, "If Feather Head here hadn't made me waist my Hadoken blowing up the Werewolf leader, I could have leveled this entire place by now."

"Hey! It was a good plan!" retorted Red Mage, "If you had just been a little more stealthy, we would have been fine."

"Bullshit!" yelled BM, "Stealth and shadow don't do crap against sent, you Freak Hatted Doof!"

"Freak Hatted wha...Ok, that's it!" RM yelled back before his hand went to his sword hilt. BM, in response, struck a pose that had Thunder Bolt written all over it.

"Enough!" screamed Thief, his superior elven lungs making his shouts the loudest of all, "You can kill each other later. Right now, we have work to do."

"Yea!" said Fighter, trying to change the subject so his friends wouldn't hurt each other, "I need to get my sword-chucks fixed at the armorer. All that slaying and bleeding made Stab-n-Slash a little dull." To illustrate the point, Fighter withdrew Staby and Slashy as a single sword-chuck, which he called Stab-n-Slash, which was coated in blood. Indeed, the edges were quite dull.

"Stick with me, Fighter," said RM as he put his arm around the big lug’s shoulder, "I've got an idea that'll allow you to get your sword-chucks fixed for the price of one sword. And at a discount too!"

"You idiots do that," said Thief, "I'm going to do some...charity work." Thief turned his back on his fellow Light Warriors and whispered, "And it'll all go to the Make-Thief-Richer fund. Hehe."

BM, who had heard Thief, just shook his head. "Ok, then I'm going to go to the magic shop. Maybe this rathole has some kind of-"

"There's no magic shop here, BM," said Fighter, mater-of-factly.

"How would you know?" BM said, looking him in the eye, "I'm surprised you know HOW to look."

"Oh, I checked the town map in the square," said Fighter, "I checked it up and down for a magic place because I know you like them so much, and I didn't find a single one on it. Sorry. You could always come with me and Red Mage!" he said with a little bounce of happy.

"You're not as sorry as you're going to be if you suggest that again," said Black Mage, a growl in his voice.

"Let's just meet up at the inn then," said Thief.

"Does this little rathole of a town even HAVE an inn?" asked BM, crossing his arms in extreme annoyance at the entire situation.

"Oh yea," piped up Fighter, "It's on the west side on 8 ½ street, right next to the Pawn Shop."

"Hmm. Convenience," mused Thief, "Fine, we meet at the inn at sundown. Any objections?"

No one said anything or moved much, except Fighter, who was picking his nose. Blech.

"Fine. Meet you then." And with that, Thief dashed through the city gates and disappeared.

[MetalPsycho]

"The inn," BM said, thoughtfully, "That doesn't sound like a bad idea. No magic shop, but I can at least get a few winks in before I kill someone."

Black Mage walked down the streets toward the west side of the city, hopping to just spot the inn or the Pawn Shop so that he wouldn't need to ask directions. That involved talking to people, and more likely then naught, he'd probably get arrested before the night was even here if he tried that road. Instead, he wandered almost aimlessly in search of it. Until...

"Hey there, sonny." Came an old and crinkled voice form an alleyway BM had just walked past.

"Eh," BM said as he turned, "Who's a what now?"

Out of the shadows came an old and wrinkled man. He was amazingly gaunt, with almost no skin that wasn't falling off to the side. His forehead was awfully wide and tall, and his limbs were shriveled and shaky. Despite his apparent poverty (which was amplified by his stench and the fact he was in an alleyway), he was wearing a thick grey coat that draped most of his torso. He walked with a cane and had little or no teeth in his head. His eyes were a dull grayish blue. Despite this, he looked friendly. BM decided he'd only use one stab.

"Come a little closer, my boy," said the man, "Away from the crowd. I'd like to give you something special."

BM, suddenly interested, just said, "Ok, we'll play it your way, old man." He walked cautiously into the alleyway.

"Good, right there," the old man spat, before he started hacking and coughing horribly. The sound almost made BM sick.

"Sorry about that," he apologized, "Now, on to business. You're a magical little fellow, aren't you?"

BM stood there, his gaze straight, his giant mage hat and striped pants highly apparent, "Wow, how did you guess?"

"I saw you there, this morning," continued the old man, "traveling with a trio of colorful characters."

"Yea, you could say they're...colorful. What's it to you, old man?"

"Hehehehehe," the gaunt figure giggled, "Oh nothing much. They don't seem like the brightest bunch to be traveling with. The big one's as dumb as the brick his hair color matches, and the one with the hat isn't too much better."

"Yea, and that's the flunkies," continued BM, "Our leader is a greedy, conniving, elven bastard!"

"Ah yes. I thought so," the old man commented, stroking his hairless chin, "You don't like them very much, and yet you travel with them. Why is that?"

BM let his hands hang at his sides. He tipped his head, thinking hard on the question. "Because that rat of a thief has me bound by a stupid contract."

"Well that's silly," answered the man, "Why not just kill him?"

BM growled at the memory of his first encounter with Thief's stupid ninja goon squad. "He has these stupid ninjas around him at all times. If I try, he'd probably just steal life from someone and then have them hurt me." BM said with a sigh.

"Ah. I see. Then why not try and sneak away?" asked the man again, "Just vanish in the middle of the nigh, without a trace!" The old man began to tap his cane on the ground, slowly and softly, filling the alley with a gentle taping noise.

BM was getting nervous. This old man was hinting at something, and he had mentioned a gift of some sort. That alone was all that was keeping this pile of stupid bones from becoming one with BM's blade. But now he was asking the wizard a great deal of questions. Questions that BM didn't feel comfortable answering to just any stupid old man on the street. Still, BM decided he'd play along with the old man for a little while longer.

"That blasted Thief would just hear me and-" BM started.

"Aha, say no more. I have just what you need my friend," the old man grinned, "You see, I use to be an adventurer too, back in my older years. A hansom rogue, I was. I was absolutely magnificent back then. I had my own strings of less than reliable allies, so I know what it's like. One of those that was far more reliable happened to be an experienced Black Mage himself. I feel for you, yase?"

The tapping had increased in volume, though BM could easily see that the man was applying no more pressure than he had when he started it. Yet it continued to grow more and more ominous and loud.

"No. I don't see. What is it you want with me?" BM said, his patience wearing thin but his interest only growing.

"Well," the old man continued, "Before he died in a tragic bugbear accident, the fellow said that if he ever crocked, I could keep his book for him. So I did, and I still have it."

The old man stopped the tapping, yet BM could still hear its echo in his head. It was annoying, and maddening. From the robes of the man's body came a big, black and grey book with a dragon skull eating a jewel of some sorts etched on the front. The book was so big and heavy looking that BM was surprised the old man's arm hadn't fallen off. Still, the geezer lifted it with no problems and handed it to the waiting occultist.

"There we go. Inside it is a little spell my friends and I were quite adapted at using. We kind of used it a lot, you see?" the old man said, as BM started flipping through the musty old pages. "It's a nifty thing that allows the target of the casting to turn ultimately invisible. Not just to sight, but to sound and smell and even tast. The only thing it can't stop is touch. Quite useful. Even an experienced thief wouldn't be able to see them. Even an elven one." He finished with a sweet, if naughty grin.

BM closed the book after he found the spell in question, along with a few other ones that were also very interesting. "Ok old man. Thanks for your help. Now, allow me to give you something too." With that, BM reached into his cape and started unsheathing his knife.

Then the tapping started again. Louder this time. Tap tap tap on the cobble stones went the cane. It was quite maddening. BM, still clutching the half-unsheathed knife, looked at the old mans eyes, which were now far more grey and vibrant. "Who the hell are you?"

"I'm just and old man," he said, "Who wanted to help a fellow like you." With that, the tapping stopped.

BM, weirded out by all of this, put his knife back into place. "Oh. Ok. Th...thaaaaa..." BM struggled with his own words, "Thanks" BM managed to blurt out. He coughed twice, then re composed himself. "What's your name, anyway?"

The man's face suddenly flashed fear. He dropped his cane to the ground and clenched at his mouth. "Raxhgahgh!" he blurted out, his voice muffled by his hands.

"Rax-what now?" asked BM, confused.

"Oh ho ho my boy," the man said after he removed his hands from his mouth. He quickly went up to BM, forgetting his cane entirely, and with strength BM would have never suspected, he quickly began to shove BM out of the alleyway. "There's no need to know the name of some stinking old man in an alley, is there?" With a final shove, he knocked BM to the mouth of the alleyway.

BM turned, "Fine fine. Yesh. No manners at all," he said. Then, thinking about his destination, BM turned again. "By the way, can you tell me how to get to the-"

He never finished the sentence. No one stood in that alleyway now. No old man, no dirty cloak, not even the dropped cane was there. All that was there were the shadows, which seemed a lot more vibrant and overbearing than before, along with the echo of that steady tap, tap, tap.

BM backed up quickly, nearly bumping into a couple as they passed by the alleyway mouth, and ran for it. He found the inn only ten minutes later, and quickly checked in and locked the door, the book still tucked tightly under his arm.

*****

And there you have it. Sorry for the double post, but I couldn't fit the entire thing on one post.

[Mac]

Seren: Wow, your quite the writer. Funny and imaginative. You know how to find readers and keep them. You are quite talented.

[Seran]

But I'm only thirteen. I can't really be a good writer to people like those on Nuklearpower...

Oh, and MetalPsycho, good job. I had myself a few laughs! Although, that mysterious man does strike a lot of suspicion...

[DarkCORN!]

And that, Seran, is why I despise you with every fiber of my being. I turn thirteen next Wednesday. You aren't allowed to be a better writer AND artist (debatably on both actually, but more people like yours)!

[Seran]

And I'll still be thirteeen by then...happy birthday! Yay!

By the way, no, no I have not started on Red Mage's nightmare. I'm sort of taking a break.

[DarkCORN!]

Post, damn you!

[Seran]

"One more step back," he said with a smirk, "and you're bound to fall in."
Red Mage glanced back nervously. There was no way out. Lava awaited him below in the pits of the volcano, and that accursed vampire was ready to drive him back. His white hair, soiled wiht black soot, was whipping agitatedly in the wind. Vilbert had taken his hat and was clutching it in his left hand. His right hand grasped the handle of a cutlass, its point held at Red Mage's throat. The rising lava illuminated Vilbert's pale face in the night. He was doomed. Absolutely doomed by this gothic freak. He had failed each and every roll that could have saved his miserable skin. He hadn't any armor to protect him. Worst of all, a cursed item clinging to his inventory had devastated his strength and defenses. With no energy to fight back, and skin now so fragile it had torn many times, he had no way to live any longer. He had nothing that could save him. While the clouds swarmed the sky, and the stars disappeared, he could feel the heat of the lava rising up against his back. He rubbed his bare arms. Red Mage was no longer the versatile warrior he once had been. He, in his poor shirt and pants, was a mere weakling with no weapons, armor, no spells, and no comrades. He felt ashamed at the sight of his cloak over Vilbert's shoulder. Slowly, Red Mage backed away, trying to avoid the point of Vilbert's cutlass. As he continued to hug himself, he turned to his last alternative -- praying. He shivered and closed his eyes, muttering to himself. Crimson, where are you? Help me...please...you're not dead...help me. Don't leave me to die!
Vilbert lunged forth, his red hair flying, and the curved cutlass caught him in the throat. Red Mage was thrown back. As the edge left its mark on his throat, he tumbled off the rock wall and down toward the lava. He no longer saw Vilbert in his black robes, which were outlined with red, and could only see the black skies above. His face, unmasked, was pale from fright and pain. The smoke and heat engulfed him. Blackness smothered his vision. Trails of blood flew up from the tears in his skin while he fell, choking in the smoke, unable to scream. There was no doubt about it -- he was dead. His red shirt was bright in the lava's glow, his maroon pants illuminated, his hair black from soot and smoke, face twisted with horror...and death.
"Feather Fall!"
The deep voice of the one he thought dead rang out to him. Red Mage's body grew light as the spell took hold, allowing him to float rather than fall. His panic was stilled as the sensation of the spell brought calmness and wonder, and he cast his eyes around, searching for Crimson. Out of the gloom came a Black Chocobo, its talons stretched and wings spread. The large bird locked its talons around the sides of his chest from behind, turning him over while it carried him away. Red Mage could see strands of his hair peacefully floating from the spell, but as the chocobo carried him away, those strands followed, the bird's wings pushing smoke aside. Blood rained down on the two.
Red Mage was at the top of the volcano once more. He was gently placed onto the ground, coughing and weak, sitting on his knees with hands on the ground. The chocobo stood beside him, standing tall and proud. Red Mage lifted his head to see Vilbert's corpse. The vampire, who had thought he had been victorious, lay in a puddle of blood on his side wiht a wooden stake through his chest. Crimson stood next to the carcass, gazing down at Red Mage with arms crossed. The feather atop his dark red hat was a golden feather in a beautiful fiery shape, with red in the middle and red on the edges. His dark red cloak had intricate black patterns along the collar and bottom, the black designs curling awya from thick black borders. He wore red plated armor that seemed unusually familiar to Red Mage, with black on the edges of each plate. He took an obviously muscular appearance in contrast to Red Mage's currently frail figure.
"You're not dead!" gasped Red Mage. "You're really not dead!"
"Natural twenty trumps all," Crimson answered casually in his deep voice. He spoke through the maroon mask placed over his mouth. "Come on. Let's get you home and wash you up a bit. You're a mess. And no traditional protective garb either! Dishonor!" Crimson had knelt down by Vilbert to take the cloak and hat. He now sotod with the hat in one hand and the cloak in the other. Eyes flashing with anger toward their fallen enemy, Crimson helped Red Mage to his feet and handed him his 'clothes of honor'. "He's not ever getitng up again," he growled. "No vampire can survive a wooden stake in the heart."
"Thank you," said Red Mage. He watched Crimson pat the head of the Black Chocobo, which proudly puffed its chest out.
"You did great, Chimera. Let's go."

[DarkCORN!]

Ooh. Another Red Mage.

[Seran]

Actually, he's not exactly another Red Mage...

[DarkCORN!]

Another Red Wizard/ RM's mentor, whatever.

[Seran]

Not exactly another Red Wizard/RM's mentor either, I'm afraid. But that's for me to know and for the readers to find out.

+++

"Why is everyone hiding from me?"
Red Mage rubbed his arms furiously as Crimson shut the door. He could feel the goosebumps and the cold skin, while he glanced from the door -- which seemed perfectly untouched -- to Crimson, who froze and proceeded to briefly stare at him. He sighed and turned his head away. He doesn't want to talk? thought Red Mage, gazing with puzzlement. Suddenly, someone stumbled into the room behind him through a doorway.
"Because!" shouted Black Mage. "It's all your fault this happened in the first place! Moron!"
"Sit down, Mage!" barked Crimson with a glare at their rude guest. Red Mage felt only shame. It wasn't his fault that the world was falling to ruin. He tried to reassure himself that none of it was because of him. Just because leviathans now ruled the seas and wyrms flew the skies did not mean it was because of him. Black Mage roughly sat down, grumbling and glaring at the poor man; Red Mage cringed behind Crimson, wishing for protecting and seeking a little comfort.
"It's because of you," seethed Black Mage, "that I have no chance of ruling or destroying this damn world. All I have left are my knives, you idiot! The only use I have for them is stabbing you!" As he raged, he yanked out a knife from his blue cloak, shaking it threateningly toward Red Mage.
"Stop it, Mage."
"Make me, Crimson. Huh. What a cliche name."
"I said stop it. RM, have a seat."
The strange sorcerer hastily departed to an upper room of the small house, leaving Red Mage to stand in the presence of his old comrade. Black Mage leaned back and glowered. He remained silent for the time, his yellow eyes fixed on Red Mage, who hesitantly pulled back a chair and sat down by the little square table, opposite of Black Mage. He shifted nervously, staring at the floor without wearing his cloak and hat -- Crimson had taken them with him, The gaze of the darker spellcaster was still on him. Seconds passed with mere silence, without a sound to disturb them, without a motion to bring any life. Red Mage put his hand on the table, his breaths quickened. He attempted to recollect what had happened that day, staring bleakly at the wooden surface.
It was that morning when he set all discord upon the land. He had decided to stray from the party for the day, as he had sought extra experience. To him, it had felt like a normal day for questing; a clear sky, a lovely sun, the peaceful whistles of a flute being played, and the gloomy appearance of a tavern full of troubled quest-givers. There was a particular one who had caught his eye -- a dwarf in a blue cloak, drunkenly speaking to a human in arctic attire. The dwarf was showing his partner a crown and collar, both golden, without a single jewel in any of the empty sockets. Red Mage has inquired him about it, but the dwarf was too drunk -- therefore, the knight form the northern tundras pointed Red Mage to his horse, telling him to visit one of his friends if interested in the items. Red Mage rode north to another icy knight. He was then given a jewel and sent east to yet another snow-specializing warrior, who told him about the collar and crown, then gaze him another jewel and sent him away to meet a naga in the south. The naga lived near the volcano and was hostile, but handed him yet another quest item, explained that ultimate power was to be theirs including ihm, and shooed the adventurer away to an old man. For that entire day he rode to and fro, obtaining gems and information. Red Mage was exhausted by the time he had reached his last destination. It was in an open area around a stone table beneath a cliff, where the first ice knight and dwarf awaited him. He had given them the jewels, and they completed the crown and collar. The warrior had then placed the crown on his head, the collar around the dwarf's neck, ordered the dwarf to sit on the stone table, and uttered a mysteirous incantation that none had mentioned before. The dwarf's eyes were glittering with joy at the thought of gaining untold power. The other knights and naga had come to be a part of the ritual, and the second knight explained that the powers could only be unlocked if a warrior of the fates collected the gems and delivered them to the holder of the crown and collar. The third had handed Red Mage, urging him to stand in front of the table. Some sort of unusual magic had then flodded the area. When the incantation ended, the first warrior pulled his woolly hood down, waving at his face and commenting about how hot it was. Red Mage, who held the staff in front of him with both hands, asked by it seemed so hot to the knight when the dwarf screamed. He turned his head and saw flames devouring the dwarf. Horrified, he had then tried to run, but the staff trembling in his hands didn't allow him. It froze him to his place. He watched as the flames claimed their sacrifice, then formed an orb in the claw of the staff, while a tail of fire whipped forward and dragged the naga in. The two knights celebrated but the one with the crown -- whose jewels glowed -- demanded that they remain quiet and watch the ritual. Red Mage could slowly feel a quivering in his chest. He was fearful of what it was...and then his magic stability cracked. His magic was abruptly expelled from his collapsing body, but the staff absorbed this magic, then the orb leapt back onto the stone table. A ring of light had then emerged from the table. An endless flood of monsters spilled out as the clouds turned black with a terrible wind roaring in their ears. These monsters were sent into the sky, scattering all over the planet. While Red Mage lay, the staff rolling away from him, he had seen the knights dance and since of mayhem and oblivion. The mage forced himself to stand. He was angry that he had been tricked -- but when the white of their eyes turned black, he knew immediately he had to run. The second and third had brilliant violet irises. The first had golden. Red Mage fled, his heart pounding, knowing that these nefarious fighters had disgraced --
"Fighter!" he exclaimed, breaking away from his memories. "Fighter! Where's Fighter?"

[DarkCORN!]

Aw. How sad. Poor RM.

[Seran]

Black Mage was alarmed at this outburst, raising his eyebrows. "Disappeared after some mutts from hell destroyed the town."
"What? He's not here?"
"Do I have to repeat everything I say, nimrod?"
Red Mage's look of shock fell. "I-I thought you'd...I mean, I thought he'd be with you." He rapped the table with his four fingers, staring back at Black Mage. "And Thief?"
"Not in commission, that's for sure!"
"What?"
"See, while you were gone, mister Rainy came in and out-Thiefed Thief. Thief's -- "
"Dead?"
"Yeah!"
"Buh-but...you...he...no. No, no, no! I refuse to accept that!" yelled Red Mage, pounding his fists once upon the table. "But...what can I do about it?"
"...Burn for being a heretic?"
Red Mage blinked.
"I -- what?"
"Look, don't deny it. You let loose demons upon this hunk of crap called the earth."
"I'm not even -- ! You're just -- ! You're just crazy!"
"Oh am I? Am I crazy? You're calling me crazy, you psycho idiot with the feathered hat? I think you're crazy!"
"How dare you -- "
Red Mage stood just as Black Mage did, and he leaned over the table with his hands on it while he and Black Mage argued at their loudest. However, Crimson stomped down, shrieking horribly.
"Sit down! Sit down! My God, sit down!"
They immediately did so.
"Mage!" he barked at Black Mage, and Black Mage jumped in alarm. "I warned you! You're one more step closer to an idiot's damnation!" He snarled as the dark sorcerer shrunk back, glaring indignantly in return. As he turned his eyes on Red Mage however, he relaxed and let loose a sigh. "Come. We have...much...to discuss."
"Where are my clothes?" Red Mage asked quietly.
"Being washed." Crimson swept his arm out toward the door, then let it fall beneath his cloak. "Let's go." He watched while Red Mage tumbled out of his chair and hurried to the door.

People. They shuddered and cowered, then dashed away at the sight of the approaching Crimson and Red Mage. They were like rats -- always running, hiding glowering, and always desperate. They scowled. They sneered. Some merely cringed away. Red Mage followed Crimson through the gloom with great wariness in his frightened eyes, his body stiff with fear. As he ambled along, an orange orb suddenly crept out of the small pouch that hung from his belt, rolling up his side and sitting on his right shoulder. There it perched with a flaming design in its center. Its presence made Red Mage groan, for it was the reason his skin was so fragile, that he was so weak. If he tossed it, the orb rolled back. If he shattered it, the orb reassembled. There was absolutely nothing he could do to dispose of the persistent item. The night ruled the skies, the cold was absolute, the silence was true, and the air smelled of debris.
"Where...where could Fighter had gone?"
Crimson abruptly halted, his cloak swaying at his ankles. Red Mage stopped.
"What is it?"
"Fighter has...ah...sacrificed himself to a greater power..."
"Sacrificed?"
There was a pause, and then he lifted his head.
"Let's say he has reformed. You won't -- " He sighed, " --you won't recognize him anymore."
"He's still alive? Wait...how do you know him?"
Crimson shook his head. "Too many questions..."
He continued down the path with a hesitant Red Mage on his tail. They said nothing as they proceeded, heading to whatever unnamed destination would soon be there.
"Where are we going?"
"Just... It's just a walk."
"So we're going back...there?"
"I apologize if you do not like Black Mage." Crimson kicked over a stone and sent it rolling into a ditch. "However, you will have to deal with him."
Red Mage remained silent, following him as his eyes watched the stone roll away. He was not sure of what he wished to say now. There was nothing to say in this dead night. There was nothing to say except, "Everyone blames me for this." Crimson replied with nothing. "It's...not my fault. Really. I didn't... You know, I wouldn't... I wouldn't... Crimson?" There was nothing left to say. There was truly nothing.
At that, Red Mage began to think. Where would Fighter go in his current 'reformed' state? What did Crimson mean by reformed? What was he to do to compensate for the grave mistake he had brought? He sighed at these many questions, none of them answered, and kicked another rock away from him as he tried to push the orb off his shoulder. It didn't budge. Stupid, worthless ball. He began to feel cold in the night, hugging himself to protect his warmth, hoping only that some light would be shed upon this disaster. He breathed deeply, looking to the stars, but when something moved the bushes nearby he suddenly yelped and raced to Crimson in alarm. He had become more easy to frighten since the encounter with the ice knights. Red Mage quickly glanced back, thinking he would see a demon of sorts ambushing them, yet he only saw the path and the distant skies. This was ridiculous. He remembered how Vilbert had first jumped him, dragged him back to some unknown lair where there were several others monsters -- the Dark Warriors included -- ready to maul him and utterly decapitate him, and how he had escaped by pure wit. Unfortunately, his wit was how he nearly lost all of his limbs and eyesight. He was lucky enough to be right behind a boulder that tumbled and crushed half of his foes. Now that he has Crimson, there was nothing to fear, and yet he just had this dreadful feeling that something would be awry.

[Quickman X]

Whoa, conspiracy theory. Crimson = :fighter:? Hmm…
…no idea. Dammit, I’m gonna be up and thinking about this all night, and right before finals too… that’s just cruel and unusual. Wah.
::edit:: Damn, that can't be right. Reviewed the evidence. Fighter would ne'er even speak of dice, let alone the "natural twenty trumps all."
Curse you and your ability to poke holes in theories, Seran. Curse you, I say!
Hey, did anyone ever notice that "curse" is an anagram of "cures?" They mean close to the opposite, but *is gagged and thrown into a padded jail cell*
...yeah, okay, I'll shut up now.

[DarkCORN!]

Hmm...I was thinking Red Mage got a split personality and one of his personi is Crimson.

[Seran]

"Perhaps someday people will come to respect you."
He stared out dreamily at the stars, the stars in the heavens from which light descended and across which clouds did drift. Crimson's eyes were dull with something Red Mage could not read. They stood by the river -- a path through which the waters moved so mournfully, their voices gurgling with sadness in a quiet requiem for the thoughts that had died away in the storm. Red Mage swayed in the momentary peace. He tilted his head at Crimson in an attempt to see past those familiar eyes, to see past the shadows of the hat he wore and the bleakness of his gaze. And yet, he could see nothing but despair.
"Hm...yes. Someday."
A pause came, a silence so long -- and yet in truth -- a silence so short. It seemed to Red Mage that this was all just a dramatic moment, but for a purpose unknown to him.
"How did you become such an advanced and intelligent wizard?"
"Do you really think that?"
"You're good, I'll give you that. But not as good as me."
Crimson closed his eyes. A smile beneath the mask over his mouth could be seen, but only faintly in the darkness. Red Mage could see something drop from his chin. A tear.
"I'll...never catch up with you."
"What?" Bewildered, he could only blink at the black-haired warrior. "What are you talking about? You only know me because you saved my life! I owe you for that."
Crimson bowed his head at the humming river respectfully, and he turned his eyes onto Red Mage, pushing his hat down over the side of his face. Perhaps he didn't want the mimic to see that single tear that had escaped him.
"I don't think I can really tell you."
He observed with exhaustion while Crimson knelt down by the river. He courched down as well, staring at his partner, but when Crimson remained motionless he looked to the surface of the waters, then reached forward and allowed the threads of cool liquid slip past his delicate fingers. The carcass of a fish floated on by. He drew his hand away with surprise. The fish drifted along, stinking of death, and Crimson reached forth and took it away from the grave it had floated upon for some untold time.
"I can't believe I started all this. I don't know how to fix it either. It's all so confusing...I can't find those blasted knights anywhere..."
"You'll find something."
"Like what? Dust and dirt?"
Red Mage sighed wearily. Never had there been such a burden on his shoulders when his shoulders were stronger. He watched another fish carcass float by, and minutes later came another, then another, and yet another. The new silence was not as strange as it should have seemed. Red Mage found himself counting the corpses that floated by. One, two, three, four, five, it seems that there is one alive, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, and to complete that would be a dead hen. He asked himself why he was rhyming. He continued counting, but after pointing at the twenty-seventh fish that was dead, he leapt back in alarm at the sight of a much larger corpse. It was mangled and ruined with scars running over what skin it had left.
"What the -- !"
Crimson leaned over as the body floated by. "Looks like a dwarf."
"A dwarf?"
"Burned and smelling of oil. With some stabs in the eyes and a slit in the throat. Oh, and what's this?" He lurched forward, violently latching onto the man's throat. "His beard's been shaved as well. Sounds like someone wanted to dishonor him before he died."
"What's this about dishonor...? First my clothes, and then this guy's beard?"
"Maybe they want to screw around and polay with us while we're still scared to go out in the day," Crimson growled, and he hauled the corpse out, despite the stench that followed.
"What are you doing?"
"Burying him."
"Burying -- we can't bury him!"
But Crimson's glare replied otherwise. With a sigh, Red Mage nodded and watched as his fellow wizard dug out a great pile of dirt from the earth, spending all of his time into making a suitable grave for someone they did not even know. He was not even halfway done when trouble struck like a cobra's fang.
Three elemental demons arose from the earth, with manes of brilliant green flames wreathed about their necks, their eyes glowing white and claws awkwardly stretched. Their flesh was brown like the dirt from which they were born. Their breaths were rank and humid. Their claws were black and fangs yellow, menacing Red Mage and Crimson. Crimson leapt up in alarm and drew his sword as Red Mage retreated to him, clinging to his cloak with fright. The three elementals growled and sputtered, scratching threateningly at the air. Crimson answered with a filthy scowl. He drew a second blade from his belt as swiftly as he could, and he twirled the two in front of him.
"Stay behind me," said he firmly to his comrade. Red Mage cringed. The two blades gleamed, as if scowling in return to the claws and fangs, as if scorning the blackness of the claws with their own dark glory, and scoffing at the flames with a fiery hate. Red Mage never understood why there was so much black on Crimson.
The three monsters all leapt at once. They, roaring and blubbering, pounced and attempted to dig their claws into the pair, but Red Mage ducked beneath Crimson, who lifted his blades and twirled them swiftly. The swords whipped across one's face and grazed the hands of the others. Retreating, the monsters leapt back a distance, snarling. Crimson spat and snarled back. He, himself, was a feral beast within himself. While Red Mage cowered, he could hear the elementals launch forth, rip at Crimson with fangs, and the heat of green embers flew across the air. He crawled away as quickly as possible. A small pebble interrupted him as he placed his palm upon it, and it immediately dug through his feeble skin, causing him to bleed at the very moment he touched him. He lifted his hand and winced, and with his short nails tried to remove the pebble. It was a depressing thing. He was the most fragile creature on earth. Red Mage extricated the pebble before proceeding, listening to the clangs of metal against bone, and the tearing of flesh that took event behind him. The river murmured darkly. A monster howled in defeat, struck down by a blade slashing through its chest, and fading from view. Red Mage found himself crawling into the river, despite the corpses of fish that floated by. He suddenly found himself beneath its surface as the waters grew violent. A wave overcame him. He fell into the darkness, into the cold realm where no air could free his lungs. A cold hand coated with grease gripped his around the neck from behind, dragging him down while growling quietly at him.
In a voice that echoed through hollow waters it said, "This is all your fault."
Red Mage tried to scream as he panicked. The creature was dragging him down deeper into the river, and as hard as he fought to free himself, the steel points of a trident playing along his skin released trails of blood into the water.
"I'm going to make you pay for doing this. My home is destroyed because of this."
Let me go! Let me go, you slimy no-good freak of nature!
The trident quickly pierced his back, slid through entrails, and went right to the front of his stomach. Bubbles escaped him out of reflex. He gulped down water and began to choke, struggling but immediately losing strength. He had no air. He tried to move, tried to escape, but he was impaled on a three-pronged stick.
The surface above was even more disturbed as a black figure broke through, seeming to writhe in the water. The current was not affecting him -- and yet it was starting to carry off the arrival. Crimson dove down, reaching out for him, sword clutched in his hand. There were threads of black pulling away from him for some reason -- from his head, it seemed. He lunged forth at Red Mage and grabbed his wrist. At the same time, he drove his sword past Red Mage's shoulder right at his foe, and a reverbrating scream shook the river as Crimson pulled him away and retreated to the surface of the waters. He pushed him onto the shore, opposite of where the elementals had attacked, and Red Mage tumbled along the ground with weak but harsh coughs. Crimson followed him onto land. Both were on their stomachs. Without hesitation, Crimson arose, walked over to his comrade, and yanked the trident out of his back with great fury. Red Mage only emitted a small cry of pain.
"...Bleeding...."
"I'm not blind, and nor am I deaf. I know you're bl -- "
There was a splash; Red Mage looked back, and Crimson was gone.
"Crimsuh -- Crims -- ker -- kuh -- "
There were many attempts from Red Mage to speak his name, and yet with every effort he only vomited small amounts of blood. From there he remained immobile, dazed and dying. His head fell back onto the grass so that he could only gaze at the stars. The waves in the river leapt and danced in the air violently, by the battle that heatedly roared beneath. He could see blood and threads of black. He could see flashes of steel in the rushing waves, and the glimpses of two figures struggling below. Every now and then Crimson would emerge to take a gulp of air, before he was dragged back down and forced to fight. Red Mage could feel his life slowly seeping away from his body, with every drop of blood that dripped into the river and joined the dead fish.
Then Crimson climbed out, panting and coughing. He coughed out water and he coughed out blood. He crept over to Red Mage without a smile to be seen, then swept his hand over him and said, "Cure-2." Red Mage's wounds healed quickly and painlessly, and Crimson fell onto his back, casting the spell over himself.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

I wonder what's happened to the Dark Warriors versus the Light Warriors story.

And the other stories, not to mention.

[DarkCORN!]

See? All you need is a good threat and BAM! : inspiration.

[Seran]

You threaten me every time I don't update.

[DarkCORN!]

Update, damn you! Don't make me get the rehabilitator! *shakes fist*

[Seran]

"W-what was that about?"
"What? The attacks?"
"That underwater monstrosity tried to drown me and impale my carcass!"
"It already stabbed your once-soon-to-be-carcass."
"Crimson!"
After the assault, Crimson and Red Mage were once again walking along the path, this time returning to the home of Blakc Mage and the absent Fighter. red Mage had flung his arms in the air out of fear and shock, thinking that he felt the prongs of that trident on his back.
"Please don't taunt me like that. It's not very nice."
"Taunt? I was only stating the facts."
Crimson had kept his gaze on his comrade from the time they had departed.
"But facts can taunt..." replied Red Mage, who hung his head rather miserably. Crimson nodded as he realized what he meant and glanced to the side. He instead decided to focus on the bushes, although the silence was what captivated his ears. Red Mage then raised his head to the branches above, wanting only to watch the trees disappear into the sidelines of his vision, and yet another uneasy silence fell for the remainder of the trip. Well, it would've been the remainder if someone had not halted them soon after.
Down came Thief, tumbling from a tree.
He landed on the ground with an "OOF!" and a new bruise on his head, and then he fell onto his arm and side. The ninja winced, looking rather ashamed of such a clumsy performance, but he quickly collected his senses and gathered himself, leaping up onto ihs feet. Crimson stared with an awkward and indifferent expression, although it seemed to conceal scowling, and Red Mage jumped forward and hugged Thief like a frightened cat.
"Oh my god, where have you been...?"
"Ghhk -- get -- off -- me -- human!"
Red Mage's hug, despite his highly flawed flesh and fragile bones, was crushing the elf. Thief would not seem as desperate if the hug was more lighter. But this particular embrace was very constricting. Crimson's mouth-mask shifted, as though he had opened his mouth to comment, but he quickly withdrew and pulled his hat tighter against the top of his skull. Barely any hair could be seen. Thief, gasping for breath but only hurting his lungs, found a time to relax well after Red Mage had released him, and then Thief eyed Crimson with great suspicion.
"You seem familiar."
"Fascinating."
The simple and clever comment made Thief stare at Crimson's face, as though trying to detect a hint of sarcasm, but he instead looked at Red Mage.
"Hey. You. I've been thinking while I was gone. There appears to be a bounty slapped on your pale forehead, you know."
Red Mage's grin faded, and he blinked at Thief.
"...You're not going to..."
"I've been considering more whether it would be more profitable to turn you in, or to help you."
Then the mage instantly began to pray that Thief would turn to aiding him through these dark times. Crimson chuckled heartily with a slap on his back. It seemed that he was confident; he seemed to believe that Thief would not hand Red Mage over for a reward, despite how large it could be.
"So, how's it been?"
"Well Black Mage appears to think you're dead."
"Oh really...?" Thief set his elbow in the other hand, whilst he rubbed the side of his chin with his finger in a gesture of contemplation. "And how do you know Black Mage? What's your name?" The elf began inspecting the red wizard's armor, which still had black lines along the borders of its plates, but he appeared to be hiding his hair beneath his hat for some reason.
"Crimson."
"Tell me, do you know a certain fighter named...Fighter?"
The wizard raised an eyebrow. "...That I do."
"Do you happen to be related to him?"
Then confusion took hold of Red Mage. He began to glance between the two, confounded. Crimson squinted. For some reason, it appeared that he could not believe that this was Thief.
"What's your name?"
"You should know..."
A silence came, but shuddered in the presence of more voices.
"No. I am not related to him."
"Hm..."
Red Mage stared at Thief, who was attempting to question Crimson even further.
"Not to startle you or anything, but something about you reminds me of him."
Thief was right.
"I just came from the same school as Fighter. Be off."
"On the contrary, I'll escort you home. How about that?"
Red Mage was confused. He didn't understand what the either of them were doing. Crimson shrugged, Thief nodded, and all of a sudden, the three were walking in a scattered formation back to the abode of the lone Black Mage, with Thief in the front and Red Mage in the back. Crimson was off to the side.

[DarkCORN!]

Hooray! Thief is alive!

[Quickman X]

*pokes thread back to life*
Reinforcing the RM/Thief deal much? Nah, just kidding.
Wonder where the story's going...

[Spookty]

Sorry to like,REVIVE this or whatever,but...
Doncha just HATE it when a good story gets discontinued?

[Seran]

I'm sorry I have not been updating. So much has happened lately, when added with beforehand laziness.

I will attempt to update soon.

[Edit2] Eh. I realize the filler story was badly done. Knew from the start. I just don't have the will to continue the Red Mage story though.

[EDIT]
Meanwhile, please do accept this mildly done story that I've decided to write just to compensate for the lack of updates.

"I'm not stupid, I know you -- hey, don't you dare -- !"
The click of a disconnecting phone sounded through the receiver. Frustrated, the man slammed his own phone right onto the switch hook, cracking the handset in half. His fingers tightened on the pieces. King Steve was truly a cheating and insolent fool. Someday, he would find the dagger of death at his throat for his incompetent treachery. In an attempt to rid himself of his rage, the man lifted the halves of the handset and attempted to crush it with his hand, allowing the jagged edges to cut into his skin. He thrust them aside and listened as their bangs against the stone wall echoed throughout the great, empty chamber.
A sigh escaped him and he collapsed into the armchair, next to the round coffee table. The chair was...thin. It lacked in the plushy softness that most armchairs had. Its wooden frame was chick and its black velvet was worn and leathery.
"There's something called a consequence," the man muttered to the dark wall, "...Steve."
Knowing that he had just destroyed his phone, he reached into his pocket and withdrew a cell phone. He flipped it open, held it up to his left ear, and immediately searched through his contacts list without a glance. He selected the desired collector of his second call, waited for him to respond, and spoke into the transmitter.
"He has refused pay. Send them forth."
The man's grey eyes were dull in the darkness, but there was a glitter of malevolence within them nonetheless. His black hair fell over his eyes and hung at the middle of his spine. The man relaxed in his chair. For a moment the silence calmed him. He then drifted away into his dreams, freeing his concerns for Corneria and his band, knowing that King Steve would soon be exterminated...

The woman spun quite absentmindedly among the growing flowers. She danced in the daytime, accepting that its light was not something to fear. Her white robes followed her motions as she spun, slowed, stepped forth, and spun once more. She did not mind the dark elf watching her with a drowsing expression. His black wizard's hat fell over his white bangs and golden eyes. The white wizard danced over to him as he sat against the tree, his knees drawn up. She smiled and tapped on the brim of his hat.
The dark elf stirred and gave a confused splutter. He cleared his throat, shook his head a bit, and leaned forward while he lifted his hat away from his eyes to meet his friend's blue eyes.
"What?"
"Nothing..." she replied, and she smiled in a silent giggle that fluttered in her chest.
"Really? ...How's today?"
"Splendid. I'm more used to the sunlight."
"Marvelous for you. But I'm a dark elf. I'm supposed to hide from it."
"I know." She sat down in front of him, combing her nails through her brown hair. "I guess I just feel more free after that stressful adventure of ours..."
"Makes you and I wonder how the other two are doing, eh?" The black wizard rested his hand on his stomach, the other still sitting in the grass.
"I heard Curp's become a knight of Corneria."
"I heard Agin's become a ninja mercenary."
"Really?" She raised an eyebrow for a brief moment, then lowered both. "I thought he said he would only work alone unless with us..."
"He is working alone." The dark elf straightened up, scratching the side of his head. "They say he lurks in suspicious taverns..."
Seran nodded at the lazy Marite.
"Taverns..."

His phone was ringing. A frown crossed his lips and he immediately answered it, flipping it open and whispering into the transmitter.
"What?"
The stiff voice of his partner struck through. For most the voice would seem tired and frustrated. For him he could hear spitting hatred.
"He has refused pay. Send them forth," was the call, and then silence. Agin closed the phone and slipped it into his pocket.
"Well, well..." he sighed, closing his eyes and setting his elbows against the table, his chin on the back of one hand, while the other rested on his arm. "King Steve should've thought this out a little more. Too bad the kingdom he was rebuilding will come down. I have a job to do." Agin arose from the table and approached the one that was a few feet away, although more than one stranger had settled around it. "Kill them -- and you three will aid me in demolishing a portion of Corneria." He pointed at three large and bulky men before retreating with an impassive expression.

His blue eyes stared past the window as he watched Corneria's newly recruited guards fend off a small group of attacking assassins. His light blond hair was brightened in the sunlight, red armor gleaming with Corneria's emblem engraved on the chestplate. With a hand he fixed his white headpiece on his head. Its green jewel seemed to glow with glory.
Curper's silence was total and absolute. He knew that Agin had decided to make a move on Corneria. He felt guilty that he did not speak with the king that morning. The king never understood. He was an idiot, thinking that there were elections in a monarchy, thinking it was quite alright to wear flesh-shoes made of infants, and thinking that it was possible to drill for mana. His hand traveled toward the wound on his side, and the other supported his forehead as he dropped his head with exasperation. There was incompetence wherever they went in this kingdom. Even the guards were insufficient. He listened as they were felled, one by one, and the panic of citizens soon grew prominent.
"Knights!" called the voice of his commander. "Gather around our very round table and let us discuss the attack that is being...uh...done on us!"
He would've laughed if the commander had not sounded so stupid.
The commander, looking far more regal than Curper himself, strode around the corner and saw the young man by the window in his stressed stance.
"What are you doing? Get going!"
Curper remained silent, unable to speak.
"Well?"
"I will join you in a brief moment. Please allow me to...recuperate...Commander."
A scornful expression passed the man's face. "Whatever."
Departing footsteps met his ears. He lifted his head from his hand, glanced toward the corner from which his commander had emerged moments ago, and pressed his other hand against his most recent wound. The previous battle left him in pain. And certainly -- most certainly -- he would not do battle with a comrade. He understood well enough that it was merely Agin's duty to do as he was told. He was a mercenary after all.

Knights marched out with additional guards to meet the mercenaries. Agin watched from above the latest of destroyed buildings. It towered over them with walls blown off the metal frames, and he could see several faces perring up at him. Curper was not among their ranks.
Then I will not have to harm him.
The ninja fled down toward them like an agile cat, literally running on hands and feet along the metal poles and bars at the earth. He landed on his four limbs. In a quick moment, the ninja was tearing at them with a katana, aided by his temporary companions and their magic. Dust and smoke had risen into the air, the stench of blood swimming in their nostrils and heads. All was a dark blur around him, and as he lashed at a knight's thigh with his blade, a wave of blood splattered into his eye. He squinted that one eye, narrowed the other, and leapt up as he sunk his weapon into an opponent's skull. Fellow magic flew by his shoulder and engulfed a foe in a prison of flames.

Seran and Marite watched from a distance, atop that hill, accompanied by the many flowers and scattered trees.
"What's that commotion...?" asked the white wizard, her light blue eyes full of worry.

"You should've put more thought into it..."
"Nonsense, Gary, now get me some coffee."
"Sir, this is Curper Wrill of the Cornerian Knights...and I am afraid to say that your choice was beyond poor."
"Sara, is that you?"
"Your Highness, I beg that you listen..."
"Well, whoever you are, get me some coffee."
Any conversation with this idiot of a king would tempt one into immediate suicide.
"My King, your kingdom is being attacked because you refused to negotiate!"
"Well, a pack of face-shoes is very expensive."
"A pack of..."
"Face-shoes, yes. And man-coats as well! Have you heard of the latest trend in human-made armor?"
"Human-made?"
"Human skin, that is!"
"Sir, I am thoroughly disgusted! I refuse to accept that I ever joined the Cornerian Knights!"
"...Huh? Oh, Gary! Get me some coffee."
"Augh! I'm leaving."

+++

And just when you think things are serious, something goofs up... That ever happen to you? Not me. I used my characters from my Final Fantasy One game, by the way...I like to call them the Fate Hunters...

[Sir Pinkleton]

...Well? It's been a month since you last left off, did you forget? Or is it a writer's block? let me continue enjoying the story, damnit.

[Seran]

Instead of Black Mage awaiting them, there was an old man in a red robe, thoughtfully stroking a long beard with a cane at his side. He was staring somewhat blankly at the ceiling. Wherever Black Mage was, he seemed to be of no concern to any of them.
"What are you doing here, geezer?" Thief immediately said from behind the two wizards.
"Ah!" The elder's eyes immediately flicked to where the three stood. "I was so hoping you would come by. I had a quest in mind."
This quickly lifted Red Mage's drowning spirits. "Quest?" he started, jumping to full attention.
"Why yes!" the man wheezily chuckled. "I have been waiting for a delivery to come, but it seems none has come at all! Can you fetch it for me instead? Just don't botch it!"
"We'd love to, but we have no ti -- "
"OF COURSE!" Red Mage hollered gleefully, ensuring that Crimson could not be heard. Crimson seemed to be attempting at holding back a spitting insult.
He nodded and breathed, "Right...right."
"Off we go!"

Even in this quest, Crimson was in a great hurry. No matter where they wandered he dragged them along in half of a sprint. Thief snaked about in the shadows, slithering after them. Red Mage stumbled over the path, despite his fragile skin and weak bones. He was determined to prove he was still worthy of this quest. The orb which had considerably lowered his defense and attack attributes was now sitting on his back between his shoulderblades.
In the faint light his silver hair shone, following his trail, followed by the ever-silent Thief and the whispers of the wind.
It was at that moment their thinker had decided to spark random conversation.
"Your gods...they are unreal. Yet you and your magic are. That's what I believed the whole time I knew you." He rushed off the path and into the forest, tearing his cloak away from a thorned root that clawed out from the earth. Red Mage followed, though Thief was slow to enter.
"...Hyeh?"
Red Mage pursued his comrade into the deepest areas of the forest, where the canopy and darkness were thick with evil. One could almost grasp a tendril of shadows and pull it from its home.
"The way you twisted the rules of reality with strange tactics, what with dice-rolling and tests..."
Crimson leapt over another root.
"I believed many things for a long time...until I was forced to run to that which I had no interest in, away from what had long given me purpose to live." His hand grasped the handle of his rapier.
"You're not making sense," said Red Mage, and he ducked under a branch. However a twig scraped his cheek and left a scratch that was deeper than what it normally should've been. "Are you sane?"
Crimson pushed a branch away from him and released it, sending the branch flying into whatever was behind him -- and that whatever happened to be Red Mage. He fell over with a yowl of hurt. Thief stopped at his fallen body, staring down. It took a few grunts of effort and several struggles before he could properly stand. There was a red slash right across his face. He dashed off after Crimson, suddenly unable to wait to retaliate in the most quick and harmful way that would compensate for the bleeding mark.
Instead, he crashed into Crimson without knowing he was there and fell, yelping.
"What?" asked a rather blunt Crimson. He glared down at the mage sitting on the ground. Shaking his head, the man could only stand and stagger before his taller comrade, attempting to straighten himself.
"It's...it's nothing," he sighed, feeling only more pathetic than before. Crimson shook his head and continued on his way. "You were saying?" mumbled Red Mage, pursuing him again.
"How'd you come to learn all of this?"
"All of what?"
"The character sheet, the die, the checks..."
"Oh. Just something from long ago."
"We know nothing about you, it seems."
"Hm?" Red Mage glanced up, but all he saw was the back of Crimson's hat. "So?"
He could hear Crimson mutter something odd.
"Cabin ahead," Thief reported from the trees above them.
"Good. I want to finish this as quickly as possible."
"But," interrupted Red Mage, "this is not a time-related quest! We could take as much time as we wanted!"
"Whatever."
Without further conversation, they strode up to the door. Red Mage eagerly knocked on the wood. It creaked open rather quickly, revealing a figure in a blue coat rimmed with white furry material, and their face was hidden by darkness. Immediately he became suspicious. This person seemed similiar to one of the tundra knights who had deceived him into unleashing the cataclysm. However, the person pulled their hood down, and their eyes were perfectly normal. The irises were brown with a mild shine to them. Her lips curled into a sincere smile, and she nodded at the three.
"Yes? May I help?"
"A package needs delivering," Crimson said flatly. "We need to send it to an old man. He said the sender's area was here."
"Oh! I'll go get my grandpa. Grandad!" The girl turned and rushed up, her brown hair whipping behind her. Soon, another elder descended from the stairs, hobbling along though not with a cane or walking stick as most old men did. There was a sloppily wrapped box in his hand. He stretched out his arm to Red Mage, smiling, and gave him the package to deliver. He was wearing a red robe.
"Give old Grant my hearty greetings," he requested clearly and happily.
"With pleasure!"

"You lost it?"
Thief was watching the two wizards from above as Red Mage searched the ground.
"You lost it."
"Okay, okay, I lost it!" cried Red Mage, leaping to his feet. "But we can find it again!" He tossed a d20 into the air, and it landed with a six on the top. "Curses!"
"Here, let me try..." Crimson knelt down, took the die, and rolled it about in his enclosed hand. He then let it fall to the ground with a sixteen on the top. His eyes came to an object hidden within the leaves, and so it was to the package he came, lifting it from the growth and brushing leaves off its top.
"That's not fair, how come you find it and I don't...!"
"Well," blatantly pointed Crimson, "the universe likes to think everything's your fault."
"I thought you were my friend!"
"It's only friendly advice, calm down..."
Red Mage sat on the ground, arms crossed angrily. He watched Crimson clean off the rest of the filth staining the box before he was walking off once more. He pushed himself onto his feet, now bleeding from scratches all over his skin.
"Hey, look. It's Jackie Chan."
Thief pointed to the sky, where there was a man standing in an airplane, obviously prepared to attempt a suidicial stunt.
"That's not Chan," Red Mage said in return.
"Yes it is. Are you calling me a stupid elf with no sense of recognition whatsoever?"
"As a matter of fact -- "
"Contract."
" -- no I am not," he sighed, slapping himself in the face.

[Robert Paulson]

Presenting: Better Red than Dead. This takes place before the class change, but after the death of Black Belt.

The four Warriors of Light were marching down a worn-out path, as usual, in a vast land of plains and greens. Fighter, wanting to make conversation, said, "Hey BlackMage, I'll bet you can't guess what I'm thinking about!" BlackMage, feeling a sense of annoyance, replied, "Gee, I don't know. Is it pointy, metallic, and can put someone's eye out?" Fighter stated with astonishment, "Whoa! How'd you know? Do you have ESPN?" BlackMage said back, "I was guessing that you were thinking about razors, right?" Fighter, with a childlike glee, answered, "Nope! You're wrong! It was swords!" Thief interrupted, "Enough rambling, my inferiors. I just spotted something of importance." He was correct, for to their right lie an abandoned videosphere. Thief picked up the videosphere and commented, "I wonder if this still works."

The videosphere came on. A holographic image of a man appeared. The man was dressed exactly like RedMage, and he even looked just like the crimson wizard, except instead of sporting grey hair and black eyes, the wizard in the videosphere had black hair and blue eyes. The message showed him saying, "Well, I'm now starting the next leg of my journey. For those of you who may not know, I've been hearing rumors lately that there are people in the real world who served as inspirations for people in imaginary worlds, worlds I've come to love very much. If you must know my motive, I am interested not in XP nor gil, nor am I looking for a rare artifact. I'm simply looking for a good time. If this quest of mine is successful, I could be fighting alongside the greatest swordsman history has ever known one moment, and then the next, I could be raiding an opera house, searching for a female general disguised as a soprano. The possibility for good times would be endless! But this journey has been quite perilous thus far. I sure hope I don't die anytime soon, for that would be really inconvenient. So, if anyone's been wondering what I've been doing for the last couple of months, it's that I've been roleplaying, in the real world. Sincerely, the Red Mage." And the videosphere shut off, and with it, the image. Everyone looked at RedMage. Fighter asked, "Was that, you?" RedMage stumbled, "No, i-it couldn't have been. My eyes and hair have a different color scheme." "But he called himself RedMage." Thief added. RedMage said, "Correction; he referred to himself as THE red mage. I wouldn't ever sign out a videosphere like that." Then he paused. RedMage continued saying, with a bright expression on his face, "Wait a moment, I know what this is; this is the start of a sidequest! And I know just what this, videosphere has in store for us. We'll look for this shameless imposter of mine, and in the process, we'll dress in skanky outfits, going on many sexually implicit sidequests at the same time, and inbetween our wacky misadventures, we'll make pop-culture references during random encounters and giggle like little schoolgirls the entire time! This sounds like we're gonna have a fun time!" Fighter, BlackMage and Thief all stared coldly at RedMage. BlackMage, feeling raw anger once more, reached for his dagger and stabbed RedMage very quickly. Thief then delivered a highkick to RedMage's face. Fighter told, "I'd join in the senseless violence, but I haven't the heart to do so." RedMage stood up, despite being injured, and continued, "Okay, I''ll be honest, that last idea of mine was a little outrageous. Only someone completely wasted on amnesia dust would even think of going on that campaign." BlackMage said, "I have a better idea; let's play the Quiet Game, wherein you try to go as long as possible without saying anything. You go first, RedMage." RedMage replied, "Alright. I'll participate in this game, but you better offer me a gracious amount of experience if I win." "Whatever you desire." BlackMage concluded, then thought to himself, so long as you SHUT UP ALREADY!!!! Thief ordered, "Okay, if we're bored enough, we'll go looking for this red mage, and at the same time, we'll do our best to pretend that we never heard our red mage's idea of a quest."

Several hours later, and several mishaps of random encounters later, night had fallen. There was only one source of light; a campfire far off in the distance. The Light Warriors went to the fire, and they came across something strange. The fire was situated near a lone tree. Sitting next to the fire was a man who looked just like the red mage in the videosphere. the other red mage was holding up his hands, forming shadow puppets against the tree trunk and with light from the fire. He opened and closed one hand, like a mouth, and began talking in a cheesy yet dramatic voice, "Oh no! A sociopathic swordsman just killed you! I can't live with myself anymore! Whatever will I do? Wait, I know! I'll use a Phoenix Down!" He began opening and closing his other hand, now speaking in a falsetto range, "Wha-what happened just now?" Going back to his other hand, he said, "A certain effeminate mama's boy, who will remain anonymous, just tried to kill you. Luckily, I was around, and had a Phoenix Down handy." Switching to his other hand, he said in falsetto, "Oh. I should be more careful next time. Say, may I ask you something?" He said with his other hand, "Sure. What is it?" He said with his female sounding hand, "Will you make out with me?" He then said with his male sounding hand, "I thought you'd never ask!" At that moment, RedMage interrupted with, "Found you, doppleganger!" The other red mage was startled. Fighter said, "Oh! You just spoke! Now it's your turn, BlackMage!" BlackMage questioned, "My turn for what?" Fighter exclaimed, "Oh! You lost! Wow, for someone who likes the Quiet Game so much, you sure aren't any good at it." The other red mage asked, "Who might you people be?" Thief told, "We're the Light Warriors. Oh, I know it's haphazard to pry into the behavior of non-Elves, but, what were you doing just a moment ago?" The other red mage answered, "Oh, I was, uh, revising, yeah, revising a story I heard somewhere. Say, did you like any of it?" RedMage said, "Enough small talk! I have found my evil counterpart, and as per RPG tradition, we must fight to the death!" The other red mage told, "Wait a second. Evil? Do you even know what my alignment is? It's Chaotic Good, in case you're wondering. Say, what's your alignment, supposed evil counterpart?" RedMage thought, and said, "You know, I don't really know." The other red mage asked, "If you don't know, then what's the alignment of your traveling companions?" RedMage glanced at BlackMage. When he looked at BlackMage, RedMage imagined the black wizard's voice saying, "Ha ha ha ha! Stab stab! Lightning Lightning! I murder the innocent and drink the blood of babies! I'm Chaotic Evil!" Then RedMage looked at Thief, and imagined the Elf prince saying, "I look out for myself, and no one else! I make comments at the expense of those who aren't Elvish and I steal, steal, steal! As for my alignment, put me down as Chaotic Neutral." RedMage then looked at Fighter, and imagined the sword wielder's voice saying, "Duh, I'm dumb! And Lawful Good!" RedMage then began to elaborate, "well, I don't know either, but if I were to venture a guess . . . "

At that precise moment, everything disappeared. The plains, the fire, the Light Warriors, and both red mages vanished. In its place was a figure in a red robe, and quite a handsome mustache. The figure said aloud, "Oy, this what-if scenario is getting way out of hand. At first it was cute, seeing little ladies chase after the one of Elven blood. By the time I introduced Moogles into it, it started getting tiresome, but now, it's too outlandish, even for me. I don't think I'll be making anymore visions of what the Chosen Ones' lives could've turned out any longer. It's just too much for any soul to bear. But, an omnipotent being must keep himself occupied. I think for the time being, I'll go back to doing what I do best . . . "

Back in the world, the real, physical world, four distiguised individuals were mounting four golden Chocobos of legend. One of the radiant figures said, "With these beasts of legend, we can now travel anywhere around the world, at a moment's notice! Now the lands are safe once more-" Before he could finish his sentence, the Chocobos exploded without warning. The four figures were drenched in feathers, blood, and Chocobo gibs. One of the figures yelled, "Damn it, Barry! What could've gone wrong this time!?" The one called Barry replied, "A wizard did it."

The end. (It's just one part this time.)

EDIT: Since no one's posting here, I'll add the director's commentary.

The whole scene with the videosphere featuring a RedMage look-a-like and RedMage's suggestion of a sidequest is an allusion to Final Fantasy 10-2. Funny when you consider that I've never played FF 10-2.

The scene that my self-inserted character was re-enacting was a retelling of The Most Famous Scene in Final Fantasy History. Here's a hint; one of my shadow puppets was Cloud and the other was Aeris.

And yes, Sarda did reveal that every one of my 8-bit fanfics is really just a reimaging he played out for himself. I did this for two reasons: 1( I wanted to show that my fics aren't canon, and 2( I'm not doing anymore 8-bit fanfics. Ever. I'm burned out.

Lastly, those were the Real Light Warriors at the end. And, when I wrote "Better Red than Dead", my blood-caffeine level was above the legal limit. Okay, I'm through here. It was fun while it lasted.

[Quickman X]

Damn. I'm sorry, I just can't let this thread die. There are too many unfinished works here.
Yes, it's three months old. I'm aware of that. I realize that this is necromancy, and that it may well get me into deep shit.
I'm not letting it die.
I've got some stories I wrote earlier to post to this, but I'm not gonna do it now. Hope this revived thread gets put to good use, guys.

[Karenaide]

(This story happened approximately five years after the events of 8-Bit Theatre.)

This is a true story. It happened approximately five years after the events of 8-Bit Theatre. This is a graphic tale, not for the younger users of this Forum. A strong heart, stomach and resolve are all recommended. Reader discretion is advised.

Black Mage was walking through the countryside, the smell of wildflowers and ripe fruit drifting in the slow breeze. He looked about at the tranquil world, longing for the chaos and brutality of his own home. Suddenly, dark clouds crackling with red bolts of lightning swirled overhead, letting off a whooshing noise that nearly forced Black Mage to the ground. He glanced up, wondering at the strange events, and saw the cause of this disturbance. Rather, before he saw it, he felt it. The magical aura that a person gives off is called Magitsu, or 'Magic Pressure'. It is usually a feeling ranging in intensity from a twitch in your stomach to a blast of power that paralyzes you for up to several minutes. Black Mage had a Magitsu that gave off a feeling of inexplicable dread, capable of driving very weak-willed creatures insane.

Black Mage felt two incredible Magitsu, clashing in the furious melody that is mortal combat. He saw two men, one wearing black robes much like his own and the second wearing a ragged-edged, black overcoat with a crimson inside and pants made of a similar black material. The first wore tall, black leather boots and a black bandana with a white skull painted crudely on it. The second wore hunter's boots, which were like shoes with a small heel, and a black Adept hat, which was similar to Black Mage's own hat, with a crimson crucifix where Black Mage had a golden crescent. Both held swords which were very different in appearance. The first man, who was a Magi Manipulator, held a broadsword which was only two feet long. The second, who was no Mage like Black Mage had ever seen nor heard of, held a long, tapering katana which was pitch black in hue and had an intricate cross-guard shaped like a four-paned window, the four panes forming a cross. At the end of this sword's handle were two long, thin silver chains, each holding a blood-red crescent-moon. These men were engaged in a duel to the death.

The unidentified Mage, whose name was Magnum , was not paying any attention to the aspects of battle, his all seemed focused on attack. The Manipulator had barely kept up with these strikes, and even taken a hit which rent him open from his left hip to his right shoulder. Magnum opened his mouth and said in a voice that struck fear into Black Mage's heart, but at the same time it made him feel safe, like hearing about a terrible event happening far away. You fear that this event may come to you, but at the same time know that it won't.

"You won't live through this, Ataru!" Magnum shouted. In one swift, heavy stroke Ataru pulled his sword upwards, slitting a small mark in Magnum's chin. This small opening was all he needed to thrust his sword into Magnum's chest, and then spin it around, tearing a large hole through him. Blood spurted forth in a great stream, soaking Ataru.

"No, it is you who won't live, Magnum," He stomped down, crushing his opponents blood-soaked head into the dust, and disappeared in a wisp of smoke. Black Mage didn't know what to do, save the man called 'Magnum', or let him die? On the one hand, he was a strange Mage, and may know spells that, in return for saving him, he could teach to Black Mage. But on the other hand, who knew the power he held? Who knew his intentions? Would he turn traitor? It was too much to bear, this decision. Black Mage had no recollection of the next few hours, all he knew was that he had brought the man to the Light Warriors Citadel.

***
So, um, should I continue, or is this a sad, sad attempt at a story that is better off in my Recycle Bin?

[Quickman X]

So, um, should I continue, or is this a sad, sad attempt at a story that is better off in my Recycle Bin?
CONTINUE, DAMN YOU. D:
Nah, jes' kidding. Seriously, though, I like it. In my humble opinion, you should keep going. *gives j00 a cookie*

[Seran]

I was honestly hoping there would be more stories after I had vanished in this poor, lonesome thread.

[Karenaide]

I just got my laptop fixed, which was where I was keeping the story. I'll post it in a little while...

[Jared Todd]

This continues my comic on the fanart thread.. >.>'.. which isn't finished. But it's basically what I think would happen if the realm of magic worked in the way I think of magic. Negatives and positives.

The story starts with RM, but ends with a different character. <<<<< this is a lie.

"Excuse me?? If I were anything, I would be an apple, Fighter! Apples are deeper than grapes. Apples have cores. Stems. They are complex. You've spend most of this adventure with me. You should know me better. I am, on a full and lateral scale, dissapointed in you, Fighter.." I closed my eyes to him and turned.
"whhwrple trr szzzzzlxx......"
Raising a brow, obviously assuming I had just blew his mind so hard it was climaxing to an explosion, I opened one eye, and cocked my head to him.
Where he stood was now a single red wax candle, a bright yellow flame dancing in it. I had almost jumped back, obviously shocked by what was behind me, and turned fullstop. As I turned, I felt my cape rub against something sturdy, and turned yet again. Behind me and the candle were three more candles, a green wax candle with a green flame to my left, and yellow with red flames to my right. I knew what was across from the yellow flame before I recognized its color. I was correct, a blue candle with an orange flame. The one I had just been facing. Everything else around me was grey and blurred, color and brightness torn out of my surroundings.
"Fire, air, earth, and water..." I mumbled to myself.
"In spiritual colors," a soft, but heavy voice spoke up to my left, "there are seven elementals. The closest elementals to the beginning of the spectrum are red as earth, orange as water, yellow as fire, green as air."
My head turned slightly to my left. I could barely see the figure, squinting beneath my +1 red felt hat,
"Yes, and speaking in the contexts of the four elements, red represents fire, yellow represents earth, blue represents water, and green represents wind..." I looked around me at the candles and their flames, then back at the blurry figure.
The figure's eyes smiled, but made no hint of smiling through the mouth.
"So I see you don't dissapoint in your knowledge," the figure stepped closer, and came into focus faster than I expected. It was... me! The imposter tilted his head to me, "You look surprised.. Don't you like me?"
I looked down at the blue candle, and focused on it. What was happening?
"Red Mage, I'm here to teach you a lesson or two about magic."
At such an atrocity of sentence, I cocked my head back up at the imposter, and glared.
"There isn't anything I don't know about magic. I take that as an insult."
The form tossed his curly white hair back slightly, and put his hands together, point finger up. A ball of light surfaced above his finger, a beautiful shining light.
"What is this?" he cocked his head at me like I had. He was mocking me.
"You don't honestly expect me to answer you," I turned.
There was a long-drawn pause. He was obviously waiting for an answer.
"... fine," I sighed out of my mask, and turned back to the doppelganger, ".. I'll play your game. It's white magic."
"Yes, but what else?"
I rose a brow,
"What else? That's all there is to it. White magic has the power to heal, black magic has the power to harm. You're building a power of healing between your fingers."
"Wrong," the form smiled with my hazel eyes again, and put his hand forward, still holding the power above his finger. It slowly started to rise from his finger and bubble, melt. Quicker than my reflexes could match, the melting ball of power exploded at me with a powerful and heavy blast, knocking me over the circle (more like a square..) of candles, to the ground behind them, with a thud. I felt my cloth armor stick to me.
"Wh-what was that..?!" I stared at the imposter wide-eyedly.
He, himself looked confused.
".. that was supposed to be an air attack... not a water attack..."
I rose my brow, and instantly put my hands forward to build the same attack, determined to give him a taste of his own medicine.
"You diffused the attacking power of an ice attack, and used it against me as a white water attack.."
The form stepped back.
"You aren't the one that I was assigned to help.."

and so ends RM's part. >.>'.... <<<<< totally a lie.

[edit: dammit, I said green represents earth, but it doesn't, it represents wind on both elemental scales. >.<]

[Karenaide]

"Okay, run it by me one more time," Thief was sitting in a chair, head down, pinching the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. "His name was...?"

"Magnum," Black Mage answered, looking over to the infirmary bed where the so called 'Magnum' lay. His wound was an extremely lethal one, but the clerics were sure he would recover. White Mage, who was in charge of the Medical Wing of the citadel, was personally helping with Magnum's rehabilitation. She walked up to the group, who were acting in a rather solemn mood, which was unusual for them.

'He's... he's awake. But he's still very weak," Sure enough, Magnum was lying in the bed, his eyes open, staring blankly at the ceiling. His bright blue eyes slowly swivelled to look at each of the five and his mouth opened slowly, as he began to speak;

"Who... who did it?" He asked, his voice faint. "Who saved me?" They all glanced nervously to one another before Black Mage stepped forward.

"I did," his voice was quiet, almost scared. Magnum's eyes burned into him, and Black Mage wondered if he could read his mind. After a long moment which seemed like an hour, Magnum pointed to his knife, a long, delicate hunting knife which was sitting atop a pile of his damaged, bloodied clothes which lay on a chair near the dresser at his side. Black Mage quickly snatched it up and handed it to him. He took a deep breath as Magnum clasped the intricate handle, and noticed the knife's resemblance to the sword Magnum had used. But this instant of realization took away his chance to foresee what Magnum was doing, and the knife was slashing against his forehead in no time at all.

Black Mage had no time to react, and before the realization of the event hit him, the pain did. He stumbled back, a thin stream of glittering, crimson blood dripping down into his eyes. Carefully feeling the wound, he realized it was a rune. Looking into a nearby mirror on the wall, making sure he tipped his hat as not to let anyone see his face, he looked at the red Pentagram carved into his flesh. White Mage ran over, but it was soon evident that all she could do was stop the bleeding. The mark remained. As Black Mage replaced his hat, he noticed a thin, faint pink mark running from the back of his hand up his arm.

A mark that hadn't been there a minute before.

"Man, what gives?" Black Mage barked at Magnum, who had sheathed his knife. "You slashed me! You freaking slashed me!" Magnum blinked as if Black Mage had just said something ridiculous.

"You don't want to be rewarded?" Magnum asked, his blue eyes tunnelling into Black Mage's.

"Well, yeah, I guess I do, but you slashed me!" Black Mage recovered from this question rather quickly, his hot-headed manner returning.
Magnum raised his chin and laughed, eventually finishing with a sigh.

"What kind of Mage are you? Your Magitsu is an impressive one, and you wear the cloak of Black Magics, but I can clearly see the... link, between you," he turned his gaze to look at White Mage. "and you. But furthermore, you don't seem to have progressed past the first three years of academy training," Magnum leaned back further into the featherbed, never taking his eyes off Black Mage. How he had hit the mark, dead on no less, was amazing.

"Told you so," Fighter whispered to Thief, who handed him a sheaf of bills.

[Seran]

Green represents wind... Takes me back to Fire Emblem...

Oh, I'm sorry. Jared, that was really fascinating, if not strange -- as in, what could possibly be happening at this point? Who is that guy?
Bludd Streaks, I like it -- so don't stop writing.

[Jared Todd]

"You aren't the one that I was assigned to help.."
I had already grown tired of him by this point, and as my eyes flashed with the memories of the attack, the doppelganger in front of me extended a hand to me.
"I apologize..." he said, hair growing inward, staying curled, though, but brown and short, "I thought.. You are a Red Mage. The weakest proffession a man can have in magistry, I thought I was suppose-"
I got up of my own accord, narrowing eyes at him, as he dropped the hand.
"Weakest? I don't think you know what I'm capable of."
The man nodded,
"Yes, I don't. I was told I need to aid one of you.. you and your travelling companions. I assumed you were-"
"Weak? If you're looking for a mage, either Fighter or Black Mage would be choice opportunities. I don't know how Fighter is capable of magic, but he seems to be taking to fire and white magic quickly.."
"Black Mage?"

"Black Mage..!!" White Mage ran, "Black Mage, you vile and foul-smelling creature, come here!!"
"What did I do now.." his voice carried to White Mage, turning his 'face' toward her, "I'm not gunna say I'm sorry because you set yourself up for ever hoping I could keep my mouth shut."
She stopped suddenly, in front of Black Mage, her short and bouncy bangs hanging in her face. She blew the bangs parted.
"What is the matter with you?" she crossed her arms, turning her head to the side, "You're such... you're such a..."
He looked at his yellow-gloved hands, and then put them on White Mage's chest. Not her boobs, not her crotch, not her ass, her chest, and looked to her eyes.
"...White Mage.. I...." he choked on his words. Saying anything positive out loud that wasn't cold and sterile was enough to make him puke.
"Black Mage.." she looked back at his cute and glowing eyes from beneath the hat, and that's all she wished to see, "Love, to you, is a feeling that you siphon from our world so that you can destroy more."
"Yes, but I don't-"
"I know.." she sighed, and looked down again, "I haven't been there for most of your ventures, but... I can feel the hesitation for your rotten and disturbed magic."
Black Mage's eyes pleaded with her. "... we won't ever be together..."
He watched White Mage's reaction, which lost a step, as her face almost sunk.
"... not until you can be honest with your emotions out loud.. Not until you're a good person."
Softly, Black Mage closed his eyes, and hugged White Mage close to him. As she hesitantly hugged back, she felt warm in his hands, which was all Black Mage wanted. Just the fact he knew she gave a damn about him was enough to keep him from releasing a hadoken for years.
"I'm sorry..." he sighed, trying to rekindle whatever in him could make her even the least bit happy, "That.. I'm not good enough for you..."

"Black Mage? Sure, he isn't too strong in magic recently," I mumbled, looking at the clone beside me, "But he is more than capable in his knowledge of it."
I shook my head.
"What exactly are you looking for?"
The man shook his head back at me, and put a hand on his forehead.
"I was told to find someone from your group whose magic is weak because of his use of, both, white and black magic.."

Fighter looked around.
"Where'd RM go?"

and I like your story, Bludd. o o''.. it's really cool. You got me interested.

[Karenaide]

Magnum sat up, wincing at the pain in his chest. He rolled his head from side to side, a crack! that would have been barely audible was loud as a wolves howl in the silence.

"I thank you for your help," Magnum said slowly. "But I must alert my comrades of my whereabouts. Do you have a hawk whistle?" Fighter immediately leapt up, toppling his chair, and raised his hand in the air, shouting; "Ooh! Ooh! I have one! Me! Me! Pick Me!" Magnum raised his hand as a signal of silence and Fighter immediately stopped, his dark blue iris' had completely dominated his eyes, leaving nothing but a blue circle on the white orb. He picked up his chair, handed Magnum the whistle, and sat down. Magnum put the whistle to his lips and blew. A long, shrill note rang out in the stillness, causing everyone but Fighter to clamp their hands over their ears. When the note stopped and they had all looked up, the only thing anyone could say was 'Oh, wow," for on Magnum's arm was a bird, roughly the size of a peregrine falcon, but so pitch black that if not for its' gleaming eyes they would have thought he had torn a hole in reality.

"His name is Grimmjoww," Said Magnum. "He's a Sleek, named after a good friend and an amazing warrior." The bird turned his head to look at each of them in turn, before Magnum whispered in his ear and sent him on his way.

"So..." Thief spoke slowly. "How much is that bird worth?" He never got his answer, however, because at that moment Magnum snapped his fingers and Fighter sprang up, his eyes normal once more.

"Me! Me! Pick me! Oh! Oh! Pick me! Wait..." He stopped hopping like a neurotic rabbit and lowered his hand. "Did I miss something here?" He looked back and forth, and when no one answered he shrugged and left the room.

"Well, I guess that the real hero today was A.D.D." Magnum said. Everyone burst out laughing, and even Fighter poked his head back in, a large sandwich in his hand, to ask what was happening. Black Mage recovered first, and asked Magnum; "What did you do to Fighter just now? He's never been that calm, even in his sleep!"

"Hakufuku" Magnum answered. "'White Crawl', it will pull the target into an unconscious state while destroying everything in a certain radius. However, I stopped at the stage of unconsciousness and used a form of suggestibility or, as you would call it, total hypnosis," He looked at Thief, who immediately began hopping around the room like a kangaroo and spouting particle theory.

"However, it is much harder to use Hakufuku on a Mage than any other class," Magnum snapped his fingers and Thief landed back on his chair. Black Mage stared in awe.

"Can you teach me that?" He asked, eyes wide under the veil of shadows cast over his face. Magnum smiled and replied; "The knowledge has already been imparted to you. In time, you may figure it out," He looked around the room, suddenly alert.

"You can come out now," He said, looking towards the seemingly blank wall to Red Mage's left. Red Mage looked over and found himself face to face with a man with inky black hair, who looked surprisingly like Thief. Red Mage yelped and fell backwards, toppling his chair and landing in Thief's lap. The man laughed and flipped backwards, landing on the headboard of Magnum's hospital bed.

"Magnum, what happened?" Even his voice was like Thief's.

"Ataru happened, Falcon. Ataru happened," Magnum waved a hand over his bandaged torso.

"Yeah, well, if I was there I wouldn't have lost," Another man, this one standing at an amazing six-and-a-half feet tall, walked in. He had spiky, electric blue hair which stood straight up in many spines. His armour was a darker, more indigo-looking blue with a golden cross formed by two intersecting I's. Most amazing of all was his sword. It was enormous! It was strapped to his back, the handle poking over his shoulder to the side of his head. The blade itself was almost as long as he was tall, and it wasn't a smooth, perfect sword, either. It was ragged, shredded, serrated. Strapped to his waist was a crossbow, and on his head there was a circlet of gold. His armour, too, was majestic and spotless, as if he had just stepped out of a painting of a war hero. He even had a scar moving from his chin up to his right temple and over to his left eye, ending near his left ear and jawbone. Across his left shoulder plate, printed in gold, was his name, 'Rallis'.

"Yeah?" Magnum was trying to get up, but it was obvious that he was in pain. "I may be injured, but I can still fight! You want to try?" His eyes were set with determination, but he was in no state to stand, much less fight. Nevertheless, he stood, bare feet planted firmly on the tile floor...

And something collided with him, sending him sprawling right back on the bed. Sitting on him, a hood over it's face, was...

:fighter:Haha! Cliffhanger, Yo! Everyone likes the story? Wow, I'm better than I thought! Heh, does anyone have any, I dunno, predictions?

[Jared Todd]

Cool!! It's like the Light Warriors from the future, except with wicked names, and the BM counterpart is named like my Red Mage character from Subliminal Catastrophe! o o.... Magna and Nauticus, wha-hah... v.v... but, uh, that's for another time, and definitely another place.

Now, I'm sorry if the end of this is really going to piss people off. But I'm sorry.

"Hey, you guys..!!" I screamed, barelling down the streets, toward my fellow Light Warriors, "You will never guess what just happened!!"
As I happened upon Black Mage and White Mage, they had torn apart, and Black Mage had his head turned to the side, White Mage fidgetting her hands, trying hard not to look at me either. I had more important and new news, though.
"Where's Thief and Fighter?" I asked quickly.
"Uhh.. last time I saw Fighter, he was with you. Is there a problem?" she tugged on her robes, pushing the bottom down more so it was touching the ground.
I rose my brow oddly, and brushed a hand across my other arm.
"If you call an incredible mistake a problem," I narrowed my eyes at her, and looked at Black Mage.
Black Mage looked at White Mage, who was staring at him, then looked at me. He took a step back.
"What!" he exclaimed, looking straight at me now, arms crossed.
"A friend told me one of my fellow Light Warriors was using Black Magic..." I paused, looking at Black Mage, "and White Magic.."
White Mage gasped, and put a hand to her mouth, as I looked at Black Mage, who stared at me.
"It's him!" he pointed to me, "You're the Red Mage!"
I shook my head dissapointedly, and put a hand forward, growing a ball of light in my palm.
"Red Magic. I use Red Magic, not White or Black. My character sh--"
"Oh, shut up about your character sheet! You use white and black magic!"
There was a pause again. I was growing tired of the long pauses, Black Mage obviously either didn't get it, or he was guilty. I couldn't place which it was, but I did thing Fighter was more plausible for using Black Magic and White Magic.
I crossed my arms, about to pull my character sheet from out of my cape as proof that I did, in fact, weild Red Magic, and not White or Black, but Black Mage caved in and realised the difference as much as he could in the given time frame I had.
"Well, obviously you don't think it's me. My name is freaking Black Mage, for God's sake.."
"I don't know what I believe. My prediction is, either you or Fighter," I said stately. I nodded for assurance, so that it might ween the truth out of him.
Black Mage made a face at me.
"Fighter? He doesn't even use magic."

"Thief! Hey, Thief! Look! Look at this!"
Thief leaned against a tree away from Fighter, peripheral vision barely making out the jumping and flailing shape.
"Yeah, I'm looking.."
"All right, are you looking? You're looking, right?"
He sighed, "Yes, I'm looking.." he shook his head and muttered something under his breath.
Fighter clasped both armored hands together, and stared them down. He stared and stared at his hands. Fighter stared at his hands for a good minute.
"Oh, that was so cool.." Thief mumbled, unknowing to him.
"No, no, I'm not done yet, just wait!" Fighter exclaimed, still staring at his hands.
Feeling ready after a while, Fighter softly started to pull apart his hands, and as his hands pulled apart from each other, an orange glow filled the close space between the two.

I shook my head again, "No, I've seen him explode his sword with fire, and one time, I swear he healed me after you stabbed me."

There was a small orange and glowing orb in the air between his gauntlets, and his face lit up along with the gauntlets, from the success.
"Y'see??" He smiled brightly.
Thief looked at Fighter, and pocketted his knife into the saschel on his leg, "Fascinating, it really i-"
As his eyes fell upon Fighter's energy, Thief's eyes went wide.
"Wh-wh.... how.... but..." he stumbled on his words, "Fighter, where did you get that?"

Black Mage shook his head.
"A fighter isn't capable of using Black Magic. Fighter isn't capable of using Black Magic. His mind is too simple and naive. He excels in swords and shiny things! Someone like that just can't use Black Magic."
Nodding, I understood what he was saying. But that changed things, if he honestly meant it.
"Well, then the only explanation is that you're using White Magic," the ball of light escaping my hands slowly melted, and collapsed out into a wyrm of pure water.
Almost astonished, Black Mage attempted to shake off my superiority. White Mage was more visible in her reaction, as she stared at me.
"N-No! I'm evil! I do things normal people couldn't fathom! I-I don't have a face, goddammit!"
Suddenly, without warning, before BM could finish his ramblings, the streets ran grey, blurred, all besides BM, White Mage, and I.
"My goodness.." White Mage mumbled, looking around. Before she could react to her surroundings any longer, she jumped, and pointed, "Black Mage, behind you..!"
As I looked behind Black Mage, a harsh-looking man, face hidden beneath a charred yellow wizard's hat, wearing a heavy red cape that covered most of his side, gold boots and gauntlets, appeared. It was the copycat again. He put a gauntletted hand forward, and built a ball of absolute blackness, surging from inside him, from all over his robed body, into the air between his surging fingers.
"It.. is time.. to see... if you are the one I'm looking for..!!"

Is it Black Mage, or is it Fighter who the guy is looking for! You don't know, do you! ^ ^-
Join me next time to see what, both, Fighter, and Black Mage are capable of, and maybe even the identity of the doppelganger!

[Karenaide]

...A White Mage.

"You tried to fight Ataru, didn't you?! You did, didn't you?!" She was torn between anger and relief.

"Yeah. Um, Rach? You're sitting on the gaping wound in my chest," Magnum was lying back, his eyes closed in pain. Suddenly, the White Mage laughed. She stood up and got off of Magnum's chest (he was relieved) and took her place beside Rallis.

"This is my family," Magnum gestured towards the newcomers. "Samuel Rallis, little brother," Rallis nodded. "Peregrine Falcon, an even younger brother," Falcon raised his chin in acknowledgement. "And Rachel Slythin, an old friend,"

"She's his girlfriend!" Rallis called out loudly. Two replies came at once:

"Am not!" Rachel snapped
"Is not!" Magnum seethed. Oh yeah. That was totally the truth.

***

For the next month as Magnum was rehabilitating, life was not exactly normal in the Light Warriors Citadel. Magnum was always doing some odd experiment with herbs or some other odd, bloody more than often, item. Rallis was always in the duel arena, swinging at some target or another with that silly big sword of his. Nobody saw much of Falcon, but he usually popped up whenever they didn't need him, and then disappeared along with their wallets. Rachel, as fate would have it, turned out to be White Mage's distant relative of sorts. at least, that's what she said. She was usually in the infirmary tending to someone or another. Life was... kind of supercharged.

But this peaceful life is not the focus of this story. The focus is Ataru, who is the villain, and the story leading up to him. So begins Black Mage's chapter, the first chapter.

Which will be done in a short while.

[Jared Todd]

Okay, it's been long enough, and I already made the fifth part, like, 5 days ago, which was the day after I posted the third part. BAH! You guys can't wait for that long, you just can't. It's impossible. Heck, I can't.

"It.. is time.. to see... if you are the one I'm looking for..!!" his fingers charged with electricity.
Black Mage immediately put his hands together, enough warning for him, trying to fit in as much energy as he could into the orb of power beneath his robes, obstructed from my vision.
The face grinned beneath the mage hat.
"That's it... show me your true colors.."
The doppelganger obviously was trying to represent Black Mage, but a much darker and evil version of him. As his hands clasped with stronger electric current, the smell of burning metal scoured across the waste of grey. It was getting stronger now, as well as the energy Black Mage had in his hands I couldn't quite place. Clouds of swirling black surrounded the skies around us.
"Now, defend yourself!"
As the clouds parted directly above Black Mage, striking and thunderous rage of legions of lightning bolted down toward the ground.
Black Mage stepped back, and cried out a spell. He spun around, and before he could release the orb, I managed to see what was between his hands. It was white! Black Mage kneeled to the ground, and a vibrant and beautiful flash of green filled the grey world, and with Black mage as the eye, a rippling tornado surrounded him, and the bolts of lightning were instantly trapped among the bowl of wind. The wind started rippling, and shocking with electricity, storing the bolts inside the wind.
"Black Mage..!!" White Mage cried, running toward him, but the wind tossed her easily off and away from him.
As the giant orb of wind and electricity now surrounded Black Mage, it slowly started to subside the electricity useless. As Black Mage made an incoherent sound of suffering, the rippled tornado flew away from him and dissapeared with sparks. Black Mage collapsed to the ground, his gloves surging with electricity for a second before that dissapeared too.
I stood back, astonished.
"... was that..." is all I could manage out. Black Mage growled a human growl under his breath, and shuddered, breathing heavilly.
"I can't control it as much as I can normal Black Magic..." he sighed, putting a hand to his mouth, wiping it off, "I have no idea what it is.. I didn't think it was White Magic.."
Immediately, I looked to the doppelganger.
"The wind attack... but..."
Black Mage slowly started rising, staggering toward White Mage.
"Red Mage, you were foolish to say there isn't anything you don't know about magic," the doppelganger shook his head, and put both hands together in front of him, "What you call White Magic, I prefer to call positive magic.."
He dissapeared and re-appeared next to White Mage, and kneeled down to White Mage softly. Black Mage could do nothing but collapse again, tired. The imposter put a hand out to her. I could see White Mage stare into the imposter's eyes for a second, before taking his hand and rising up with him.
"So... I can use White Magic then.." Black Mage muttered, disgustedly almost.

I get it now, it's a parlor trick.. that's it. It's just a-"
"No, Thief, I made this with my mind! I don't know how I'm doing it, but I've been working on it lately."
The ball slowly tossed and turned in itself, starting to grow bigger, flames waving slowly in controlled directions.
"Cool, right?"
"But how..??" Thief questioned, "If.. if a lowly human like you can control magic.."
Fighter looked at Thief, and the fire in his hands dissapeared in a wisp of smoke.
"You mean, you think you can do it too?"
Thief shook his head.
"No, Fighter. I don't think I can do it," he narrowed his eyes, and put his hands together like a magic user would, and concentrated on them, "I know I can."

"Anyone can," he smiled a little, and walked between I and Black Mage, "Anyone can use negative magic as well.. if they have the need for power and enough negativity."
I put my hand on my chin. Magic was my plaything, there hadn't been anything to do with negativity and positivity in my days of learning Red Magic.
However, Black Mage nodded understandably.
"S'why sacrificing makes people like me stronger.. why Darko entrusted me with Blue Magic.."
"That's it. It's time you stopped faking. Who are you, you imposter! How do you know so much about magic, and why are you sharing your knowledge with us?"
White Mage was still silent. She stared between Black Mage and his doppelganger, overwhelmed and confused looks on her almost-hidden face. His eyes flickered under the hat he wore.
"Janus..." escaped his lips, and I was stunned.
I thought a second, doubting my initial shock.
"J-Janus.. the greek god?" I raised a brow, "The god of power, and twofaced-ness."
He nodded shortly.
"I am named after the one and only, I'm afraid. I'm the god of White and Black magic, and the inner workings of the two."
White Mage cleared her throat, and looked to Janus.
"I'm sorry, but... the White Mage's oath... I mean.. I had no idea that White Magic was.. so capable."
"Oh?" Janus looked quickly at her, "Well, then you are going to get an earful that will change your grasps of White and Black magic today.."

So I lied about showing you what Fighter is capable of... to an extent. Black Mage said, himself, that Fighter is too naive and innocent to use Black Magic, and Janus' words about how Black Mages gain power are enough to tell us Fighter could never ever use Black Magic ever. So obviously, what Fighter is using is fire-elemented white magic.

Oh, and to explain the whole "it was supposed to be an air attack.." thing Janus and RM and BM went through... The candles each represented an individual Light Warrior. It's obvious now who owns each element.
RM.......Water
BM.......Wind
Fighter..Fire
Thief....Earth
He was told the person he was to help was supposed to have a dominantly Wind element soul, and possibly the be future holder of the Wind Orb. RM has water element, which is why RM was blasted with a water attack back in part 1. Janus pulled the element from RM (and later, BM) and used it against him. Hope that clears up any uncertainties that should be certain at this point in the story. I would predict there aren't many more chapters left, I'm running out of stuff to right about. >.>

[Karenaide]

CHAPTER ONE:
PRE-ADVENTURE PREPARATION
BLACK MAGE

I was in the duel arena with Magnum. He wasn't having too much trouble from his chest, though it was still a little stiff, and you could tell. He was still very agile, though.

"So, what type of mage are you?" I was moving fast, dodging everything from fireballs to spears.

"Blood Acolyte," he answers, back-flipping over a stream of fire. "I had to turn down the title of Priest and even Cleric for... well, that's kind of obvious," he smiles at himself while throwing a lance of lightening at me. I leaped aside, face turned towards the explosion...

And felt a strong hand clasp my right shoulder. I just froze up. I couldn't move at all, no matter how hard I tried. Magnum shoved my shoulder down, slamming me into the ground. I gasped for breath, the wind knocked out of me. I felt hot breath on my ear and heard Magnum's voice whisper in my ear:

"You are weak. You have so much raw power, but you cannot control it. In terms of raw energy, you are strong. But as for control, you are weak," A wave of realization hit me, and were I not pinned to the ground I would have been reeling in shock. All through my life, every spell, every stab, every Hadoken, I had known I hadn't reached my potential. He was right.

I was weak.

"Would you like to become strong?" His voice was soft, yet firm. I turned my head to look at him catching only a brief glimpse of his face. I didn't need to speak, and even if I tried, I wouldn't have been able to. He knew the answer. I felt my collar tighten around my neck as he lifted me to my feet.

"It is emotion that fuels magic. Anger is the easiest. Try an infuriating memory," Magnum was standing in front of me, about twenty feet away. "Just strike me. One strike will complete your first lesson," I was in disbelief. An infuriating memory? Too easy. I had plenty of those! I selected one and concentrated on it. I felt heat building up in my body, as if I was on fire. It was like the heat of the sun, without the burn. I opened my eyes... and I lunged.

Before I could blink I was leaning over, my knife had pierced straight through Magnum's gut. He smiled, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth.
"I will show you... true power," he whispered. I was thrown back, waves of magic slamming me into the sand. It lasted for a while, the wind howled and the light shone, but when it died down, I was frozen in awe. Before me stood a figure, robed in black, his left hand gloved by a black, steel claw, while his right was a gold and black wristband from his wrist to his elbow, a thin, golden chain connected to a long needle over his middle finger.

"Mag...num?" I asked, my throat dry from the whipping sands.

"I am not Magnum," Whoah, his voice was echo-ey and kind of... ominous? “I am not as weak as that fool of a Magi. I am Suzemushi, the Hornet, the demon within the man," With that he was gone, and I had a long, thin needle-like claw against my throat. He was fast. Drawing Magnum's sword, he leaped over me. Fifty feet in the air! Drawing back his arm, he recited:

"The prison of flesh, the cell of blood, the trap which is man, I am confined in. Break free, I will my brethren, and slay the men unworthy," His enormous, demonic grin grew to be just a little too wide, and an enormous curling spiral of black-and-red flew towards the ground.

Towards me.

I was stunned. This was, like, superhuman! I covered my head with my hands, ready for the spiral to slice right through me. It never hit its target. I opened one eye, then another. I was in the stands! I looked at my hands, my arms, my legs. I felt my head, neck, chest... I was intact! But how had I gotten here?

“It is a simple technique,” It was Magnum, standing on the spire above my head. “You pull the particles in the air under your feet, pulling you away faster than a warp. However, warping mixes your particles with the air, then reassembles you wherever you wish. Warping is safer, because as air you cannot be harmed,”

Wow. He liked to talk.

Suddenly, I felt a burning sensation on the back of my hands. It crept up my arms, onto my chest, and down to my legs. The strange pink marks were growing, too.

“I-I’ve got to go,” I muttered hastily, running to my room. I tried out the Particle Feet technique, as it turned out to be called. I was pulled up to my balcony from the stands in the blink of an eye. Now I was fast.

I ran into my bedroom, pulling off my hat as I ran. I threw it onto my bed while pulling off the rest of my Mage garb. I saw angry-looking red marks like popping veins moving from five marks on my body, forming a web of intersecting lines. One mark on my forehead, one on each hand, one on my chest, and half a mark on each foot. the marks ran up my legs, arms and down my neck, reaching the largest one on my chest. all of them were pentagrams. Each glowed with a strange, red light and each one felt hot to the touch. I looked like a human spider web.

Hearing the lock click, I grabbed my clothes and threw them on hastily. Before I put on my hat, the final piece of my outfit, the door opened and White Mage walked in.

"Hey," she greeted me. "What's wrong?" Oh man. I was not about to tell her the truth.

"Uh, I just... got sweaty. Yeah, and I was wiping my forehead," I fingered my hat nervously, hoping the lines were gone from my face. She bought it, thank goodness. Walking forwards, she looked at me in a way that made me uncomfortable. It was like Magnum was staring at me. I looked down, my long brown hair hanging in front of my eyes. She was right in front of me now.

"Where were you earlier?" she asked, reaching out and running her fingers through my hair.

"I was training with Magnum," I answered looking up at her. I could see my reflection in her eyes she was so close. I was green, but yeah, I could see myself. And seeing my face, looking back at me made me wonder, and I came to the conclusion;

Something big was going to happen. I was sure of it.

What? You were expecting a Fighter/WM situation, like in Seran's BM Nightmare? You assume too much. Also, I think that last sentance has something wrong with it.

I had writers block, so this took a while. I did most of it this afternoon.

Jared, It's getting good! Don't stop!

[Jared Todd]

I can see my character narrative is addicting? o o'...
But I don't understand a lot of the story. >.>.. the characters are all derived of individualism so it's hard to spot individual characters and character growth.. (a lot of people who write have that problem, though), and there's a lot of things that just rush by my head a little too fast. It's probably just the way I read, but I can't really understand a lot of it. It's cool how you're giving BM wicked abilities though.

Anyways, this is the next part in the Janus' Curse saga. Wha-hah. It probably isn't as good as the last one, unless you don't picture the wind attack BM used as as cool as I had pictured it. But it'll explain more of the magic thing.

"Did you ever wonder why White Mages like you would always be so wholesome, and why Black Mages like your friend here are so despicable..?" he looked at Black Mage softly, and smiled, "Well.. was."
"No..!!" Black Mage tried to stand up, glaring at Janus, "N-No, there is no was...!! I'm still all-powerful, I can still be evil!! You don't know what you're talking about, I could.. I could kill you-- I will if you don't.."
Janus helped White Mage up, and walked toward Black Mage.
"This is wrong..."
He tried to help Black Mage up too as he approached, but Black Mage tore away from him, spinning off feebly, and collapsing to the ground against his stomach, cringing and crying out in agony.
"No....." he cried, just staring at the ground, "I don't.. I've vowed I'd never.... This is wrong..."
"Black Mage.." White Mage stared down at him, "This is good.. you deserve this. You deserve to be better, more healthy.."
"Uhh," Janus tunred slightly to her, but Black Mage interrupted him before he could go any further.
"No, no... no... no.. it's wrong..." he shook his head, "I don't deserve anything nice.. I've been a walking plague all my life... it's not going to stop now.."
I scratched my arm again, watching the scene, mostly not believing it.
".. so... how.. does this work? and.. why can Fighter all of a sudden use magic?"
Janus nodded softly.
"Like the four elements, the seven elements each represent a state of being.. Earth represents strength, water represents security, fire represents relationships, wind represents love," he looked to Black Mage, who rose a brow as far as I could tell, but stayed silent, "Combining the four elements, having each in syncronization, creates the fifth, light. The final elements represent connection to the spirit world, and connection to the mind. Having all seven in syncronization allows an incredible power to be weilded at any White Mage's fingertips.. Holy."
White Mage shook her head.
"So.. White Mage has incredible healing and defending power.." I thought, putting a hand on my chin, "But.. Black Magic has... much more offensive powers."
"But.." White Mage kept her eyes on Janus, "The White Mages only console within the powers of Holy and light.. Someone should tell the White Mages about this..! It would help them, all of us, protect others!"
He smiled slightly, "Learning the natural white elements would be against all foolish code that makes the White Mage acceptable in society today.
"and.. Red Mage. You are wrong again," he shook his head, "Black Magic is the opposite of the strengths and elements. When using, say, ice, instead of water.. the user must twist the security inside them, and suffer themselves insecurity. When using lightning instead of wind, Black Mage must despise love in order for his powers to stay strong. If all the four elements are out of balance, Black Mage can use an incredible and deep power that can disease whoever comes across it. If the final two elements are in balance, however, he is capable of ruling over the darkest powers known to man.. Chaos. But a Black Mage has to be incredibly unhealthy, disease their body with negative and overpowering thoughts, and Black Magic can only harm. White Magic can heal, White Magic can defend, and it can harm."
White Mage stood back, putting both hands to her face.
"... the Hadoken..?" she looked to Black Mage, "You... Black Mage... how could you..."
"Hmm?" I spun round to her, "White Mage, you've known Black Mage siphons love out of the world with each blast.."
"N-No!" she cried out, stepping further away from Black Mage, looking to me sadly, "You don't understand this at all, he has to hate love in order to use the Hadoken..! Th-Those were Janus' exact words..!!"
I thought for a second. It made perfect sense now.. He was weak when he tried to kill me with the hadoken blast back in the airship. His Hadoken was getting less and less useful as he grew more in love with White Mage.
"White Mage," he pleaded, leaning against Janus, "I.. I'm so sorry..."

"I don't think it's working," Fighter mumbled.
Thief continued to stare at his hands, focusing on it. A vein had already been almost popping out of his tan skin a few minutes ago.
"Come on, dammit... what's going wrong, why can't I do this..."
Fighter shook his head.
"No, no, no, you do it like.." Fighter tightened his fists and spread his legs, closing his eyes, the area around him and Thief blurring. It was obvious he had no idea what he was doing, but before he could draw his hands close together, the two vanished out of thin air.

GASP! Did I just kill off two characters? Whoops!
Anyways, I think it'd be lamer than what I was planning on if I wrote more of this. I could, but I think the story should just be a short one, not a huge adventure. If anyone wants to see more of this, you're welcome to plead? But I just don't think I should write more, it wouldn't be stylistic. v.v

[Karenaide]

CHAPTER TWO
I TOLD YOU SO
RED MAGE

Black Mage had gotten cool new powers, so why didn't I? I was going to go whine about it to Magnum, who I believed was in his room. When I got there, Rallis was in front of the door.

"Hey Rallis!" I smiled, and waved, but he just kept on standing there. "Can I go in?"

"Nope," Rallis said, not even looking at me. "Magnum is doing something important, and you can't interrupt him,"

"Okay. Well what if I told you that there was pudding in the kitchen?" I asked, looking away nonchalantly.

"PUDDING?!" he ran away from the door so fast that his foot hit it and left a dent in the heavy oak. He was like Fighter, in a way I couldn't quite put my finger on. I blame physics. But anyway, I walked through the door and found Magnum doing something quite odd.

In his hands were two stones about three inches in diameter. The stones smelled like a zombie's used gym socks, and glowed brown, but he didn't seem to mind. Clasping them together between his hands, he recited something indistinctly, and a red circle of light sprang forth into the air in front of his face. Symbols were at the four 'corners' of the circle, were a diamond would have vertices. It looked like it was a compass of sorts. He spoke a name, which sounded something like 'Wormwood'. I didn't see diddly-squat, so I knocked tentatively on the door and stepped closer.

"There you are," Magnum whispered to no one, his eyes reflecting the circle hovering mere inches in front of his face. "Ataru," His head snapped up, the circle disappeared and I felt like the court jester, the center of attention.

In a bad way.

For a moment he just stared at me, and I thought he might blast me or something. But he sighed, stood up, and walked forward, his long black cloak trailing the ground, sending up dust from the stones. I opened my mouth and began to speak, but he interrupted.

"You feel left out because Black Mage got a new move and you want compensation XP or a cool move so you don't look like the only person who's still levelling up, am I right?"

Woah, he was good. I was about to ask him how he could possibly have known that when the answer, in his voice, just popped into my head. Cool! I could read minds! Magnum walked out of the room, leaving me to thank the air in front of me.

The slow, stupid court jester waiting backstage for his long-missed cue. I began to follow him, but decided to gloat about it to Black Mage first. As I walked, I pulled out my character sheet, a scroll of parchment tied into a tube with a red piece of leather, and looked in the 'Spells' column. Sure enough, it said 'Mind Reading, Level One'.

That was cool. If he could teach me to read minds by saying a sentence, what else could he do? As I pondered, I ran headlong into a chocolate-covered Rallis.

"The pudding was good," he said. I smiled and inched away, his breath was chocolatey and overpowering. I would have fainted if he hadn't walked back into the kitchen! But I had some gloating to do, and gloating does not wait! I ran towards the west wing of the citadel, taking in the thought of the people around me. Hidden knowledge, how this magic trick works, what this person did last night... UGH! THAT was disturbing! but anyhow, it wasn't long before I locked onto Black Mage's 'scent'. I ran into the magic-absorption room, where Magi trained in an environment that magic couldn't destroy.

Upon opening the door, I was thrown back, the wall crumbling as I was slammed into it. rocks fell, and the last thing I remembered before I blacked out was a figure in black, with a white skull on his head.

Jared. Write. More. Now.

[Jared Todd]

"I want to get out of here," White Mage refused to look at Black Mage, who was clutching Janus' robes to pull himself up.
I shook my head softly. There were so many more questions I wanted answered. Black Mage and White Mage could wait to have their fights, I honestly had never seen Black Mage and White Mage meet and not fight before. Knowledge was much more important.
"I think we should let him go on. About magic. There are two questions I have..
"One, why is it the white mages follow a set of rules that are completely senseless, and
"Two, why is it I have no idea what you're talking about, yet I'm the most potent magic caster on our team?"
"H-Hey..!!" Black Mage yelled, arms holding around Janus' shoulders to keep himself steady.
I could see the uncertainty in his orange eyes, so I shook his self-realisation off of me, and continued to look beside him, toward Janus, the epitome of the questions rattling my brain now.
"Fft. To answer your second question quickly, I have no idea. You have powerful gifts, without any reason I can manage to recognize. Yet I don't feel any real power in you at all, you just feel like an ordinary human who doesn't know a thing about magic," he narrowed his eyes, and put a hand on the back of Black Mage's before he could slip off his back, "Which is basically what you are."
I took a step forward. My hands immediately started pulsing with white magic, the white magic Janus knew, or at least thought was the same white magic Janus knew.
"You said you're the god of White and Black Magic! You don't have the power to tell me I don't know a thing about magic if you can't tell me what my power is!"
Slowly, Janus rose his other hand. Slowly, the armored Black Mage outfit began glowing white.
"Don't tell me what I know... I am a god of something you think you know, yourself. You have no idea what fear or true power means compared to me.."
As the white armor exploded in sparkles, his true, non-doppleganger clothes came into sight. He was dressed in a long coat that sipped up from his chin, to his waist, and then parted off over his baggy white pants. The sleeves of his coat were sky blue like the rest of it, and came to above his wrists, which were covered in white gloves. A saggy sky blue hat with a feather on it, also sleeved with white, was on his curly brown head, skin tanned. He had one head, but three identical faces facing three different directions. The sparkles continued to gleam slowly down toward the ground.
I was glad he shurked his copied form, but his spectacle wasn't about to make me feel any better. He and Black Mage had insulted my ways of magic too much, and went too far.
"Janus, please.." she looked at him, and obviously couldn't help but look at Black Mage, whose eyes were pleading with her now, "... I want to go. I don't have a place here, nor do I want to be here."
"I know very well you don't belong here, white mage.. This so-called red mage, as interesting as he is, doesn't either.. I am here to help Black Mage," he put his raised hand down to his heart, and started another white ball of energy.
Slowly, I took a few steps forward. No, as important as Black Mage thought he was, Janus was not going to get away that easily. I softly put a hand outward, walking faster toward him, creating my own white ball of energy in the other hand.
"No.. I'm not going anywhere until you apologize," I turned my head sideways a little as he shifted, "You have done nothing but insult me since we met.."
Janus only smirked. Yet again, he was mocking me.
"The only thing I've done is spoken the truth and proven your incorrect theories wrong.." Softly, he rose the hand toward me, and the ball in it swirled blacker.
I tightened my fist, cold steam pressing through my fingers, shaking my head, readying to attack him.
"Like I said..."
I lunged for him.

So anyways, I just felt I owed it to this thread to make a fight between Red Mage's ego, and Janus, so that's coming next post.

For those that can't figure it out, Red Mage's power isn't a part of the plot, it's only a nuissance. The plot circles around the entire group coming to terms with their abilities (BM with the blessing/curse of white magic, WM with her oath, Fighter with his fire magic, and Thief with learning how to use magic). Red Mage isn't a part of this circle of knowledge and coming-to-terms, he gains power through his character sheet, so all the magic and knowledge he has is solely on the activation of his said magic; knowledge to make things from his character sheet surface to the physical plane. In this sense, Red Mage is far stronger than pretty much all the Light Warriors and even might be a little stronger than a God, but I just want to make it very clear that RM doesn't have some kind of power that's going to be revealed later, it's just his character sheet.

I'm going to switch to BM soon (narrator)... I'm not looking forward to having all the "BOOO!!"s from not doing BM good enough... x x

[Karenaide]

CHAPTER THREE
A STARTLING MOVE
BLACK MAGE

"...It is the base of all magic power," Magnum and I were sitting in a Magic-Absorption Room, and he was answering my questions.

"The mark on your forehead," He placed the tip of his index finger to the center of the star, and instantly warmth flowed down the pink marks into my arms, legs, feet and chest. It didn't hurt, but I could feel heat. he removed his hand, and I felt the marks cool down again.

"It is a Pentagram, ancient symbol of God's power, like the Crucifix," he held up the silver cross around his neck, the dim light making it glimmer and sparkle.

"But when turned on it's head," he let the crucifix swing back into place under his cloak. "The Pentagram becomes the symbol of Dark Magic, which are the works of the Serpent," he spoke about this as calmly as if we were discussing the weather over a cup of tea.

"But, why did these marks appear when you made the Pentagram?" I asked. Magnum answered by taking off his cloak and unfastening his jacket.

"Just as a farmer brands his cattle, a master brands his apprentice," he answered, letting the jacket fall to the purple-black ground. I stared in awe at what he had revealed. For crisscrossing across his body were two consistent sets of marks.

The first set was similar to mine, but more ornate, with sigillum rings around the stars and I noticed that several marks were used over and over again.

The second set was like nothing I had ever seen before. Rings of thorns and pouring blood, it looked like he had taken rose stems and tied them to his skin until he was mangled and torn. And didn't stop. There were rings and blood marked on his shoulders, wrists, neck, forearms and I bet they were on his ankles and thighs, too. Finally, as he lifted up his shoulder-length black hair, I saw symbols circling his forehead like a sigillum had magic numerals.

Combating, Empowering, Chastising, Red, Thursday, Ruby, Iron, Furie.

The symbols formed a long, thin crown around his head and forked up into a crown that reminded my of Fighter's.

"Each thorn," he spoke softly, as though it was painful to say. Maybe it was for the sake of drama, but I didn't care, I wanted to know more.

"Represents a master," he turned to face me, and I saw something I will never forget.

Under his piercing blue eyes were black marks, turning into lines and moving straight down his face.

"Each band represents a lifetime. And the tears," Wind howled and light shone, Magnum was replaced with a man in white with golden hair and a staff of diamonds.

"Represents all that has happened to me, in these eleven lifetimes," Magnum faded back into existence, the man in white was gone. Suddenly, his face broke into a grin, the dark, sad Magnum was gone and in his place was a normal man.

"Enough with the gloom! Training starts now!" He drew back his arm and released a torrent of flames. I barely had time to warp. And even after the warp, he had moved behind me. One hand on my shoulder, the other grasping his knife, which was soon embedded in my right arm. But even before I could scream in pain he had wrenched it out and thrown me to the wall.

"Focus!" Magnum was like a kid in an amusement park. Happy. "Your power is like a piece of coal, raw, unfocused, but strong, in a way. And if you press hard enough, you might find a diamond," I turned, my arm burning, to see Magnum raise his hand and begin something extraordinary.

From every nook and cranny of the room streamed blue. It was tangible magic energy! It flowed to his raised hand and hardened, becoming an enamel white. Soon, two swords took shape and patterns began to etch themselves into the surface. When he removed his hand I got a clear look at them:

Skulls for cross guards, rough leather for a hilt, misshapen blades that had become a dark silvery colour, and the chains. Chains were wrapped around his forearms, up to almost his elbows, and it looked like they went inside his arms. The three teeth on the skulls were sharp and brownish-white, while the blades gleamed in the dim light,

"The weapons of a Spartan Berserker," Magnum rose to his full height, his robes had gone crimson and he had a collar that went up to his nose. "Grave Blades", and with that, he whipped on at me, letting go of the handle and letting the blade and chains do the follow-through. I leapt to the left and rolled, stopping by the door. The blade had dug a three-foot gash in the nigh-indestructible wall! I shuddered to think what would happen if I hadn't dodged. But I grasped my knife and leapt forwards, attacking as he recoiled.

He was ready for me. as I leapt through the air, he brought his right hand, still clutching the blade, around. it dug into my left thigh, and as he tore it out the serrated edge tore my flesh to shreds. I didn't even have the strength to scream, but I could feel something warm trickling down my leg at an alarming rate. Blood. The cut was very deep, and I could actually see the bone. But try as I might, my legs buckled and I fell to my knees. Magnum raised his blades above his head, I closed my eyes as he swing down...

Nothing happened. As I opened my eyes, I saw Magnum, a bloodthirsty, psychotic smile on his face, and behind him... What was that behind him? It was as if the shadows had come to life, and taken the shape of a human. out of the shadows, dressed in pitch black, was...

Me.

[Karenaide]

It doesn't count! It's been too long to count as a double post! One week is, like, a-week-in-between-post.

CHAPTER FOUR:
SOULLESS
BLACK MAGE

One second I'm looking death in the face, the next second I'm looking myself in the face. How messed up is that? I... HE was wearing a cape that was pitch black, and had boots that looked really hard and thick. His hat was black and instead of a crescent he had a silver skull tied to it. His eyes were a dark, crimson red and his teeth gleamed white. Teeth? I meant fangs. Glittering, white fangs. It was like my Doppelganger, back at the Castle of Ordeals. But this guy was, like, super-evil.

"You are just pathetic," He snarled, and for the first time since he appeared, I realized where I was. On a rooftop, about a hundred feet squared, several hundred stories above ground. Just thinking about it made me sick. The sky was blue, the clouds white, and a creepy dude was behind me. I looked back to my Doppelganger, who was standing in the middle of the rooftop. He didn't seem to be hostile, but even so, I kept one hand on my knife. My not-sliced up, not bloody hand. Wait, my what?! This was getting a little too bizarre. I looked to my Doppelganger and spoke:

"What the heck is going on here?" I was kind of pissed, kind of scared, but I tried not to show it.

"This is you mind. At the moment, it is falling apart, because you are dying, and confused," Sure enough, I saw that windows were boarded up, the stone was grey and crumbling, and weeds had overgrown the ground. The place looked like an old, Hadokened city. Kind of reminded me of Lefein, to tell you the truth. I was having a serious case of Deja Visite, too.

Turning back to my Doppelganger, I realised he wasn't alone. So, I guess that should be Doppelgangers. Plural. With an 'S'. The second was like me, but... black lips, black teeth, snow white hair, skin and robes. And his eyes. Glowing, menacing yellow eyes.

"You must gain control again," The first one said. "Defeat yourself, and regain control," The second guy had my knife, I had a cheap little bread-knife that you could buy at a Dollar Store.

"Your blade pulsates with energy, with power! And yet, you cannot realise me..." The first one looked down, stepped back and nodded. Immediately, he second one leapt forwards, his black teeth glittering, and his eyes wide. The knife just missed me. I tried to stab him back, but he twisted in the air and landed a blow on my shoulder.

"Wow! What an amazing weapon!" He crowed. "And you CAN'T REALIZE IT'S POWER?!" The blade instantly changed, morphed, like Magnum's had done. Into...

ENOUGH! A voice in my head rang out. I lunged forwards, slicing the still-forming weapon in two. The first guy was looking at me, and said:

"Remember my name. It is... Furie,"

***
The blades were moving down at me, to cut me in two. Clink! I caught them in my bare hand. Shirahadori. I stood, the blood pouring from my leg was in the past, now. I had to beat Magnum, I knew that for sure. Holding out the knife, I called out the name I knew could help me:

"FURIE!" My knife glowed and seemed to melt into a white liquid, curling up my right arm, around my neck, and down my left. Some of it grasped my face, hardening into a helmet. When I next opened my eyes, I myself was shocked. I was wearing snow-white robes, the same style as Magnum's black ones: Like a suit from the neck to the waist, but then it split into a skirt-like contraption, revealing the front of my legs. I was wearing white pants, and I could see myself in a mirror behind Magnum.

A glittering, white skull with two large fangs and a case of under bite encased my head, heavy rings of appropriate bones (arm bones around my arms, leg bones around my legs, a ribcage around my chest...) acted like a suit of armour. My knife was a large blade, bigger than a wakizashi, katana, even a long sword could only tie in length, and the cross guard was made of a human skull. from the elbow to the phalanges, a human arm made up the handle and pommel. Looking at my reflection in the sword, I saw that my hat was gone...

And my eyes belonged to my inverted Doppelganger, the one I fought on the rooftop.

Yeah, who can't gues where I ripped this off from? Huh? Anyone, take a guess. I can almost guarantee Quickman will know it.

EDIT: Huh. It looked so much longer when I was typing it...

[Quickman X]

Yeah, who can't gues where I ripped this off from? Huh? Anyone, take a guess. I can almost guarantee Quickman will know it.

EDIT: Huh. It looked so much longer when I was typing it...

Quick says... Bleach, but she's not sure. Damn uncertainty. ><

[Karenaide]

Quick says the right answer.

[SykoJul]

I read this whole thread, [pretty much] in one day. O.o THAT can't be good for me... Anywho...I'll move on to crituque my favorite stories. ^^

Seran: I like Black Mage and Red Mage's nightmares a lot. Their nifty. :D I think sometimes your sentences get a little confusing, but other then that, their both veyr good. If I were Red Mage, I would be more worried about getting rid of said cursed orb then sidequests. Pssh.

Jared: Your story looks fun. It was really funny reading about BM, WM, RM, and Janus having their super serious conversation while blipping to Theif going: GAH! WHY WON'T IT WORK; and Fighter going: No no no, like THIS! [makes neato little fire ball] Black Mage has the power of love huh?

...That sentence just sounds funny, doesn't it. I think it will turn out really well, but don't write if you think it'll be bad. [although I'll probably still think it will be great]

It's really late, just wanted to finish the thread and comment on you two. Everyone else is doing really well too, just so you know. [makes me want to start one of my own...[evil cackle]] [in other words, Bludd, yours is good too, but if I don't go to bed now I shall fall over. Meep.]

So anywho, hope someone posts soon; I'll be looking forward to everyones stories! ^^

[Karenaide]

Aww. I feel all warm and fuzzy inside!

Le Chapter Cinq!

CHAPTER FIVE:
THE POWER WITHIN
BLACK MAGE

Spines ran down the spine on my back, and my hands were covered with razor phalanges. The blade in my hand seemed to be aware of me, the empty sockets seemed to look over at me. All in all, I looked pretty badass. But at the same time, it was a little disturbing. I mean, I said a name I had heard before and suddenly I was a different person. Magnum nodded in satisfaction, and his bloodthirsty, psychotic grin was back. He lunged at me, the chains rattling, and he threw the blades.

Clang! I had spun my sword, knocking his aside, and took a swipe at his shins. spinning head over heels, he jumped over bringing the chains down upon me once again. Nothing a Particle Foot couldn't solve. I knocked his sword out of his hand, and it became the long, black katana once again. I raised it above my head to strike, but his heavy boot caught me in the chest, cracking the ribs around my torso. I fell back and he leapt forwards, snatching the weapon. Running his hand along the blade, it became blood red, an orange top made up half of the blade.

"Meet Blood Lust," Magnum grinned. "Originally Suzemushi's, I use it when I need to," The blade was melting through the floor of the room, opening a hole by Magnum's right foot. The heat was something I could feel, even across the room! Well, as I always said, fight fire with fire! I lit up a flame in my hand, and it snaked along the blade of my sword, streaming from the end and engulfing everything above Magnum's waist in flame. He was panting, his skin shiny with burns and his shirt in shreds. But faster than I can remember, he had sunk the sword through my sternum, shattering my armour and leaving my torso exposed. once again, I disarmed him, his blade in my left hand, mine in my right. But almost before I had touched the handle, I heard a voice in my head.

Suzemushi. He was alive in this blade, I was sure of it. And he was in my head, too. Kill him! Rip out his heart, gut him alive! Fill his eyes with salt and then rip them out! Whoah, this dude was hardcore. Uh, can I just, like, stab him? I tried to compromise. No! Kill, rip, tear, shred! Yeah, hardcore was he word, alright*. I dropped the blade to the ground, my mind overflowing with images. All of Magnum, all of blood, all of-

"HA!" Magnum had pinned my to the ground, his knee underneath my chin, his arms pinning down mine. I could feel my helmet crumbling, and my armour was soon no more.

"You were distracted!" Magunm laughed and leaned closer. "Never become distracted," His voice was serious now. Suddenly, I heard the door creak and managed to twist my neck to see Thief, his head poking through the door.

"I see. Despite my objections to being educated in the human reproductive system, you have decided to educate me anyways," That took a moment to sink in. Magnum was sitting on me, I was laying down, neither of us had a shirt on...

"Dude! Sick! You know that I'm heterosexual, and he's and Acolyte! Why would... that... be what you immediately assume??" I was disgusted.

"Whatever. Listen, we need you in the infirmary, now," He turned and left, Magnum hot on his tail. I got up, fixed my robe, and followed.

***
"He was found across the castle from you, in the opposite Mage Absorption Room,” Rachel had bandaged Red Mage up, but he wasn’t in very bad shape. Blunt force trauma and minor burns were the worst of his injuries.

“Magnum,” He rasped, his eyes barely open. Magnum leaned closer, face to face with Red Mage.

“It was Ataru,”



* Hardcore: Adjective, Definition 1. Uncompromising and committed

NOTE: AAH! Ataru?! Hide ME! *Cowers In Corner*
NOTE: I actually based this on a comic inspired by 8-Bit. I stopped shortly after my Grandma died, but it's based on me and my family. So far, me and two of my four little brothers are in this story:

Me=Magnum
Isaiah=Rallis
Noah=Falcon

The characters reflect their personalities!
NOTE: Really, is it still okay, or does it belong in the recycle bin?

Note: If you have Microsoft Works Word Processor, then open the file using that program.

[SykoJul]

So I can't say if they would be happy with their characters or not, but I think it looks okay. If Magnum is you, be careful not to make him a Mary Sue, or Gary Sue, or whatever the term is for guys. So far so good, I do think. [and I'm still up typing too late. sigh.]

Thief is funny. XD [that was so random, but it WAS funny.]

[Karenaide]

It's John Doe, not Gary Sue

And my name is Zachariah (Means The Lord's Remembrance).

[PCD]

Acutally, yeah, it's Gary Stu, to my knowledge. I think John Doe goes under a different character stereotype.

I'm thinking of pulling together a story of my own. We'll see if procrastination kills the project or not, but it's in the works.

[SykoJul]

Huh. I didn't know there were so many kinds. And I usually deal with the girl ones, sorry. XD And I know what you mean about procrastination PCD. I think I'm one of the laziest people in the world. I should probably write a short story too...[ponders]

[PCD]

((It's four in the morning, and tomorrow I have a plane flight home that'll take up the whole day, yet here I am, posting up the story that's kept me from sleeping. I sure as hell hope it doesn't suck.
This story follows the storyline of Dawn of Souls. There is 8 bit influence, but it's mostly its own story.))

She stood before his desk, eyes glued to the hard, oak floor beneath her. She dared not look about the room, yet she sadly knew the place by heart. Every tapestry that hung on the high walls, every line in the walls’ grain, and each pile of parchment stacked high in the corners. So many times she’d stood here, but the familiarity of the surroundings only reminded her of how very deep her trouble was. She clutched her plumed hat in her hands, trying not to tremble in ashamed misery. She could feel his eyes on her, as though his eyes bore straight through her head of pale hair, through her scalp and skull, so he could glare directly at the shamefulness of her thoughts. She told herself it wasn’t on purpose, that he couldn’t truly hate her for this, but…

“Red Witch,” he said slowly, in a tone that hinted at reproach and disappointment, yet not of disdain. “It… shames me, to have you stand here. After so many years, it truly irks me that you have failed to learn your responsibilities to the Guild.”

The grip on her hat tightened. That’s not it, Sir, it isn’t like that, it’s just…

“You have been told again and again that you have the title of a red mage, and must act out your duties and responsibilities accordingly. Yet, time after time, I have found you standing before my desk once more. It brings to question your true loyalties.”

She stiffened, shoulders rigid. She knew he watched her every shudder, recording every hint of body language she unveiled to him. It was uncanny, how much he could read off a person’s stance. Perhaps he already knew how she felt, then? So, he couldn’t intend to…?

A sigh escaped his lips. “You’ve proven yourself a hard worker, Red Witch. You’re good at what you do, there is no denying. But your chronic procrastination of duties cannot be overlooked any longer, I’m afraid. It seems that, despite your eagerness, you are not truly dedicated to the betterment of the Guild. You could perhaps find yourself better suited else—”

“No!” she shrieked, unable to hold her silence any longer. Yet as the objection blurted from her mouth, she found her words to tangle up in her throat, frightened to expose themselves to his discretion. She still could not even manage to raise her eyes from their gaze towards her feet. An expectant silence filled the space between the two of them as he waited.

I have to do this, she reminded herself. I can’t just let this slip away. Her tongue slowly untangled itself, and she took a deep breath.

“Sir, I’m aware that I’ve made mistakes numerous times. I take responsibility for the issues that arise in consequence, and I apologize for my negligence. But, Sir…” She swallowed. “I truly do dedicate myself to the Guild, Sir. I have only its best interests in mind, I only want to preserve its standing in the world and keep it held in the highest regard.” The words came out stiff and formal, but a quaver echoed behind them, and she could feel wetness tweaking at the corners of her eyes. “I swear, Sir, if you give me another chance, I will not let the Guild down once more.”

She finally rose her eyes, shining with frightened tears, to meet his own careful gaze. “Please, Sir. I promise to you.”

Silence swelled between them once more as he watched her searchingly, his gloved hands folded in front of his face, elbows perched on the carved mahogany of his desk. His eyes filled with what she hoped to be confliction; if there was conflict, then that meant she still had a chance. She bit her lip and blinked back the tears, awaiting his response in horrible hopefulness.

He sighed again, unfolding his hands and leaning back in his high chair. “Red Witch, you are dedicated in words and in mind,” he admitted. “However, your dedication lacks in spirit. If you truly cared for the Guild, you would not need another chance when you have already been allowed so many.

Her face fell. “But Sir—”

He held up a hand, and she fell silent. Frowning, he looked up again. “I know you hope for our best, and have proven yourself able to learn the Guild’s ways. It would be foolish to discharge you entirely. Yet no amount of reproach and warning has spurred you on yet, so punishment must drive my point home. Red Witch.”

She set her jaw and braced for the blow.

“You are hereby transferred to the land of Cornelia. A ship will set sail for you the day after tomorrow. I expect you to fulfill all duties given to you there, henceforth.” He folded his hands in his lap and turned his head to mask his face under the brim of his hat. “That is all.”

She blinked. “Sir—Cornelia, Sir?”

“That is all, Red Witch. I suggest you set about packing your things and giving farewells.”

She faltered. That was it? A word from his mouth, and she was transferred to a Guild across the sea? She looked down to my feet once more, mulling over the thought. It was a grim thing to comprehend, yet she could not deny that she deserved any part of it in full honesty. She grimly raised her hat and set it atop her snow white hair. “Yes, Master Red Sage,” she said softly. She turned to leave the sadly familiar room a final time. “Thank you,” she added, before marching through the door.

~~~

The firm wood of the dock felt strange beneath her legs, which had grown so used to the rocking of the ship in the last five days. She felt as now it was the ground heaving beneath her, in contrast to the sea’s constant rocking.

As the sailors unloaded the cargo ship hired to bring her overseas, she looked past the noisy chaos of the docks, to the stone walls signaling the boundaries of Cornelia’s kingdom, standing not far below the horizon. A sad smile flickered on her mouth; here was her new home.

~~~

Half a day’s travel later, she found herself walking through the impressive portcullis of the city’s gates, arched high and open over her head. City guards clad in gold-and-crimson armor marched through cobblestone streets, and she could see the thicket of civilians down in the market square.

She looked around expectantly. Should there perhaps be a representative of the Cornelian Guild to see her? It would make sense that the Master Sage had arranged that, yet she saw no plumed hats or red capes on any of the people traveling through the gates. Apparently, she’d need to introduce herself to the Guild on her own. She turned to a nearby guard, smiling politely. “Excuse me, hi.”

He gave her outfit a glance and nodded. “Right, just go straight ahead, through the market, right through town, you can’t miss it,” he instructed.

She blinked. “Um. Thanks. Just straight through to the guild, huh?”

He frowned from under his gilded helmet. “The guild?”

She faltered. Had he thought she was going elsewhere? “Yes, the Red Mage’s Guild. That’s the way, right?”

Frowning deeper, he looked her over again. “The… the Red Mage’s Guild.”

“That’s right. Can you tell me how to get there?”

He seemed to focus on her intently, as though trying to figure her out. “I think you must be mistaken, Miss. There’s no Red Mage’s Guild in this town.”

Her smile grew stiff. “I’m… I’m sorry, I don’t think I understand.”

He shrugged. “Sorry, Ma’am, if you’re staying in Cornelia, you’ll have to go without visiting your Guild. So—”

She shook her head, still smiling vacantly. “Th-thank you. I appreciate it. I’ll just go… to the local inn. Thank you.” She turned and strutted off, eyes glazed and mind unsure of whether to race or not. No Guild in town. No red mages at all. No sages nor masters, no red-clad members strolling through town fulfilling duties. And that just left one question.

What was she, then?

[SykoJul]

Hm. I think it's very nice. I love Dawn of Souls. I can only think of one thing to critique, and it isn't even really a problem, say. And that is, it's very detailed. And that makes for nice reading, but a riduculously long story. Usually anyhow, in my experience.

Poor red witch. Will you ever give her a name? And I guess she should go about setting up a red mage guild then, shouldn't she? Because certainly making another branch of it and sucessfully guiding it would make her devoted to this Red Mage Guild, no? At least thats what I think. And you made a FF I story that didn't start in Cornelia, and that's new. So I guess she started from Elfland or Provaka? I'd say Cresent Lake but that would be more then a ship ride I suppose.

And enough of my mindless guessing. I say, pretty good so far. Sorry you stayed up all night writing this!

[PCD]

You make long stories sound like a bad thing. Nuklear Age was six hundred freaking pages long, man. In good fantasy/sci fi stories, description is everything, really. This ain't no short story, it's a full-fledged project. Unless, of course, Procrastination gets the better of me. (and it always does.)

And, actually, Red Witch is her name. I'm going along the same naming scheme as 8 Bit, for the most part.

I've already got the first three parts of story finished, but I'ma wait a while before putting the next part up.

[Fifthfiend]

Did up a proper sticky thread for you guys. Check the top of the page.