This is a short excerpt from the currently revamped fantasy-fiction story I'm working on. Read it over and offer your comments. Hope you like. Enjoy.
"The animated undead's polearm let loose a metallic 'clang' that reverberated down the stairwell, its body collapsing to the floor, a small bullet lodged into its forehead. Komali backstepped, closing the door behind him and fastening the deadbolt. "Damn, these things are persistent," Komali almost said jokingly, taking care to reload a shot into his dwarven rifle.
Sylaris gazed out of the window, seemingly lost in his own world. "You do know what this means, don't you?" he inquired, his normal tone seemingly disappearing.
"No, ... what?" Komali replied to the question, the sound of pounding against the wooden door raising his arlam and causing him to aim down the sight of his rifle by reflex.
"It means that he must've already finished the ritual ... we obviously don't have as much time as we thought we did."
"And exactly how much time do we have left?" Komali asked nervously, inching his way back across and towards the door.
"None." Sylaris replied grimly, glancing over at the door and removing the greatsword holstered across his back. Merely seconds after Sylaris had prepared for an assault of sorts, and undead hand slowly crept its fingers over the windowsill behind him.
"Behind you!" Komali yelled, yet Sylaris had already sensed the movement to his back. Swirling around, he struck at the hand, severing its fingers. Peering out the window, he watched with satisfaction as the remainder of the undead went soaring down and into the district below.
Turning his attention towards the door, he rose his sword above his head with deathly force, motioning for Komali to slide the latch and pull the door open. Simply nodding,h e complied. As the door swung open upon its hinges, Sylaris lunged for the unarmed animation and swung, severing it diagonally from its torso towards the floor. Not pausing to wait for the body to fall, he continued his way down the stairwell.
Komali lowered his firearm and kept it to his side, maneuvering himself down behind Sylaris until he reached the end of the stairwell. Darting his eyes towards his left and right, he sighted down his firearm, yet read the room as all-clear. Giving the sign to Stlaris, he moved out and to his left to meet up with the bar counter.
Komali did the same, leaping the barrier and landing between the bar counter and the shelves of ale. Reaching to his left for a bottle of ale, he grabbed a mug fro under the counter and poured a shot of alcohol, handing it to Sylaris. "Why not?" Sylaris grinned, grabbing the mug and setting it on the counter. About to raise the mug to his lips, he heard the sound of creaking wood to his west.
Drawing his sword and ducking just in time that the dwarven mug soared over his head, crashing into the planks of the wooden wall behind him, shards of marble and glass showering the floor. "My, aren't you a strong one?" Sylaris asked, taking in his opponent.
"A dwarven animation?" Komali asked, quirking an eyebrow and raising his weapon, taking in his undead opponent much the same as Sylaris was currently in the process of. The short and stocky dwarf (like most of the race was, of course) was beginning to ramble his way towards them from across the bar-section of the inn, a wicked smile crossing his pale, gray face. His teeth rotted and his flesh rotting, one of his dark brown eyes slowly worked its way around and into the back of his head. "I've never seen one of them before." Komali muttered, temporarily lowering his weapon.
"Neither have I," replied Sylaris, matter-of-factly.
"Well, one option, then," Komali suggested, raising the firearm to eye-level, pulling back the hammer, closing his left eye, and aiming down the sights of the rifle. Zooming in towards the undead dwarf's head, Komali held his finger to the trigger.
'Hope you enjoy the Demonweb, scourge ..."
--"Reaper"
Friday, October 13, 2006
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)