Griever

Thanks guys

Prologue Often I lay awake at night pondering the events of my life. The roads not taken and the paths that I have chosen for my self to lead me where I am today. It's in the earliest hours of the night that are the hardest for me to deal with, the constant loneliness and unassurance of what lies out there for me. Sometimes when I pass other people in their tents coupled together or when I hear the laughter of comrads in good company I am faced constantly with the reality that I am alone with no one to turn to in dire straits. If I was to perish no one would morn my passing or regail my deeds in song, but merely sigh in relief as a burden of fear was lifted off of their meek shoulders. A solitary life is not for every one and in the begining I would have said that it wasn't for me. How wrong I was, how very wrong. I'm the type of person that if you saw me in a dark allyway, a lump would clot in your throat, choaked with fear as you took in my dark sword glowing with an unworldly light. You would recognise the translucent blade instantly as a slayer of countless lives and would turn away without a second thought; putting aside your pride and exiting out the avenue you came in or simply breaking down in a panic. I've seen both senerios and I laugh every time it happens or I simply recall them in thought... They never seem to fail to bring me amusment. In my opinion the weak have no place in this harsh world and I belive that emotions are my greatest folly to my trade. But in the very end, after I'm gone they'll all admit, be it my enemy or employer, that I was remebered in reverance or that my name was feared as the Great Assassin of my time. But where did I come from?, most strive to know that answer. Perhaps they wish to lash out at all I hold dear in a feeble attempt to cause me harm, who knows or really cares for that matter. I do not, my past is dead and nothing more then a fleeting memory. It was always my belief that it's a man's actions that define him and not his past or memories... but it is an interesting tale, even I was a boy once. ~ Griever Kormus * * * Chapter 1 ~ Dawn Griever Kormus opened his small blue eyes lazily, sleep still clouded his mind and his ears buzzed from an uncanny silence. It was morning and just before dawn when the sky was still black and the red fire hung just below the uneven horizon. The avid calls of wild birds and the sweet pungent odor of flora wafted in through an open window riding on a warm morning breeze that was always present in the deep jungles of Amon'd dais. The soft hissing of sleeping siblings in adjoining rooms told Griever that every one was still deep in slumber, silently he tip toed past them as they were coiled about the Tami mats dreaming uneasily. Most Amon'd youth experienced night terrors, Kyren were everywhere and spreading like a wildfire plague. No one was immune. Griever looked over to his cousin Leuqa as he passed her frail body, beads of cold sweat had broken out on her pale brow. She was in pain, but asleep. "She must be exhuasted" He thought and took one final glance at her, she was a year younger then himself. Leuqa had been running a fever for days and it vexed him more so then anything had ever before. Earlier the boy had over heard the elders of the village whispering secrets in a meeting that was not suppose to have happened. His father was one of them, whom he trailed all the way to their sanctum. Plague' they said and they feared that it had spread into the very jungle that was home. The youth had also heard of a cure, and found hope. Chimera root, a rare purple and green herb that was almost impossible to find. Only because it grew around droppings from the name sake. A live chimera. The most ferocious beasts in all of Amon'd dais. He knew of such a den, it was deep in the jungle and many men had lost their lives to claim the prize. Griever's hair was nearly almost completely jet black, save for a few markings and discolorings of ashen silver behind his ears. Garbed properly he would stand a good chance of escaping with the precious ingredients needed for making the life saving medicine unhindered, or so he reasoned earlier. Exiting house Kormus proved little difficulty for the fledgling rogue as there were no need for guards, and even if there was sentries present Kormus's agile body assured that he would travel in silence and with stealth. Outside, the boy could barely be told apart from the shadows of the jungle canopy his village was suspended far above the earth built right into the trunks of ancient trees that were large enough around to fit six and sometimes eight houses. The town was built layer upon layer connected to each other until it resembled somthing that looked like a spiders web of domiclies and temples. The various dwellings were linked by rope bridges and walkways that were almost always covered with moss and slick from condensation. Griever crouched low and made his way to an adjecent open doorway as his master at arms had taught him ages past, he mimiced the movements with peerless articulation; Allowing his sleek and slender form to dart across the uneven planks of wood that made up the ground and easily avoided detection from a town watch that passed by the wooden doors of another great house. The rogue had done this action more times then he had fingers, it was a game that he remembered playing with his siblings and it lost all it's appeal long ago. Like a fish taking in water to give way to life giving oxygen, it had become second nature. Lightly armored guards that patrolled the walkways at various locations and levels were ardent in their duty, keeping a look out for dangerous predators that stalked the undergrowth and tree tops. Not only that, but also runways and mischief makers. Veiled in shadow and far from the soft glow of torchlight, he was safe in the gloom of mother night's embrace. He was like a loving child and the darkness his sheild, his aegis from all that would strive to end his life abruptly. With little effort the guile rouge was able to give the guards the slip by levitating to lowest levels of the tree top town by simply activating the tree sap amulet around his neck. A closer inspection of the amber rock ensconced in gold filigree would revel a tiny wasp locked away inside the petrified resin. Griever clasped onto it tightly and smiled with satisfaction. Sometimes he even managed to impress even himself, he had just learned to use that trinket this morning. He touched down softly on a wide avenue near the base of the village just short of the main guard house. From his vantage point he could hear the gruff voice of a particular guard he loathed, Tigr rangsu. A fat lazy man, with an impeccable eye and sense of hearing who always some how managed to best the fledgling youth when he tried to exit the town though the main gates. Griever clenched his fist and huffed slightly as he reflected on the lashings that man caused him in the past, oh how the rouge wished he could just run a thin red line across his neck from ear to ear. That would solve nothing of course, the boy surmised early on but it would make him feel better for a time. By besting the oaf at his own game and beating him soundly would be the only way to regain his lost confidence. Leaping off off the bridge and using his new found ability to defy gravity had crossed his mind. But there was only one small problem with that logic, there was a permanent anti magic field in place that surrounded the village like a bubble. Though the barrier was only a few feet thick perhaps an arms reach in length, but that would be sufficient to deaden the magic keeping him afloat. Falling to his death was not in Griever's agenda. He would have to wait until the field was cleared, but that would leave him only seconds before hitting the ground hard. what's this? he thought and narrowed his eyes to slits, keeping low and looking just over the side. A line of darkness slithered this way and that just below the bridge. Under growth cracked and in the darkness. The noise was coming from every direction beneath him.

Have a good one

Congradulations guys =)

A hole in her iris? that sounds to me like glaucoma. Usually it can be cured with a high rate or success through Laser Iridotomy. If not it could lead to blindness.

I always wondered, what exactly middle earth was in the middle of?... can any one answer me that

Very good, and written too!

Have a good one, Happy 18th

I learned to write by a "free writing" technique so to speak and eventually developed my own style. When I was about 12 I used to take an hour a day to just jot down what I was thinking or anything that came to mind, no matter where I was. On the bus, at the park or even at a friends house Though I should come to the pen more often, I'm missing out <_<

Thanks guys, happy birthday to you too Kas I had a bbq at the park, it's finally spring here

Shouldn't some alarm bells be going off when you start to belive hitting people is ok? Just my thought in this issue

happy b'day =)

Yay for me =D

Wow, very well drawn. Everything is in proportion. Yui, you have some skills =)

Griever was sitting under the shady boughs of the oak tree, his head tucked into his knees as he leaned back on the thick trunk. The loud cry from a horse destroyed his train of thought. He had been going over in his head some of his past memories of childhood, Griever couldn't remember anything. That was disturbing. "Wha... what was that?" Griever's voice was wispy as he lifted his head in time to see John get tossed like a rag. A single kick from the massive beast sent the man reeling to the ground. He rolled, anticipating another, and barley avoided getting stomped on. The horse broke free and ran off into the night wildly. Griever lifted one of his brows and narrowed his eyes, a wry smile formed on his lips. "Amusing..." griever put his head back down into his knees. "But I suppose we might have to go look for his horse... drat."