Gawyn's Horus stories

[Anyriand]

I finally got around to reading this ...awesome stories Sam, grats

[Malik2]

Gawyn was gracious last time I posted on his post. Maybe this will wear out my welcome, but I have been thinking about it for quite some time:


“It’s days like these,” Onette said, “That resurrects all the memories.”

The two sat close together on the stone seats of the arena. Ulixes draped a protective arm around the slight warlock’s shoulders as she softly shivered against the landward breeze. “I wonder what you’d say,” She continued, “If you were here today.”

Below the Spanish conversations flowed above the occasional coughing sound of seagulls and punctuated by an occasional explosion by Ben Warrior, the inaptly named warrior of magic.

“When I think of you,” Ulixes answered, “mixed emotions cloud my view. Would you be proud or have I have let you down?”

Onetts slim almond eyes sparkled, the red robes, silk, slipped demurely a few inches down one shoulder. The hunter was constantly amazed at Onette: her wisdom, her gentleness, her generosity, and in battle her tenacity. The kind of ferocity that made her constant companion, Master of Doom, look like brilliant rings circling a peaceful garden, to devastating effect. Lately she was interested in history, clan history, and writing things down as they happened. “I don’t look back in anger,” Ulixes continued, “I look back in awe. When ever I stumbled you never let me fall.”

“You have to go.” She said. Below the Spanish combatants were laughing, “Portero! Portero!” echoed around the empty stone seats. “I am just a dream after all.”

Ulixes kissed Onette’s exposed milk white shoulder, stood, and opened his eyes…

He was on Horus. Warm light flitted between outspread oak leaves as the early afternoon sun filtered into the central save. Ulixes yawned and stretched, brushed a few blades of grass from his insignia of office, the clan crest of the White Company, the chevron that indicated he was Lord.

The usual crowd was gathered around the pillar: dancers and those simply not paying attention. Anglewinged Devil stood apart speaking, almost muttering, his long beard intertwined with the grass pushing up against his ankles, rotting shoes, and sun faded robe.

Ulixes’ great bear, Cobi Jones- named after the long serving US National Soccer Team Midfielder, a player built on speed that got clever as he aged and managed to drive Mexico’s Blanco out of his mind on his last game, waited nearby, forcing the dancers into uncomfortable poses with faces too near his rear end to be natural or acceptable.

Not far away he could hear her rasping voice. Some saw her as a ginger haired beauty. The Lord of the White Company had been around long enough, close enough, not to be taken in.

Platyna stood near the merchants, a few men like Mg Noctis orbited her. Dazzling to her followers, Ulixes saw her with Prometheus’ eyes: greasy hair, stained and ragged robes, a plain face accented with a missing front tooth, the gap of which proved a home for her to insert the cracked stem of a grubby little clay pipe, that gave off an acrid smoke which should have kept the gnats which continually encircled here away, but seemed only to encourage more to circle her.

“Wolfhair,” She cawed, “do you have a halberd in that bank of yours. I know you do.”

As was his custom when dealing with the ridiculous, the White Company Commander ignored the question and set off for his rendezvous.

“Wolfhair!” She crowed. Then when he was out of hearing range, “That guy is an ass.”

An army was gathering at the swamp bridge, for the White Challenge: that White Company rite of passage. People come and go, but ceremonies, rites go on. If he could see the ghosts, the revenants of Pelez and Landriel, of Rulez and Nerlon, and a dozen others he would know that they would agree.

[Gawyn_Trakkand]

^^ awesome story prom, You are a much more descriptive writer than i. Your stories are awesome and i'm honored you posted them here. You where even a clan leader of mine for a short time so i would never get weary of your tales .

Awesome platyna description.

[platyna]

Me? Greasy hair, wearing rags, smelling bad? WTF! I am most elegant person out here!

Regards.

[platyna]

Simply someone is being a jackass as usual. That's why I am no longer playing this game.

Regards.

[S_N_I_P_E_R]

Originally Posted by platyna

Simply someone is being a jackass as usual. That's why I am no longer playing this game.

Regards.

If your not playing the game anymore how about letting people that are have those items you have stashed away?

[Torin_Ironfist]

Originally Posted by S_N_I_P_E_R

If your not playing the game anymore how about letting people that are have those items you have stashed away?

If you play Alsius, who cares about what she has stashed away o.O

Ontopic: Love the new additions, don't want to see it end D:

[Malik2]

Part 2

Already they had gathered at the swamp bridge, a cluster of figures becoming more defined as Ulixes neared. Soon he could pick out familiar faces: Jaud, slim and dangerous; Aarisewan, youthful and energetic; the twin hunters Otava and Pallaama; the mysterious Turrican, the final surviving member of the Magical Five, and others…all wearing the white stag crest of the White Company Dragoons.

“We ready to go?” Ulixes asked, answered by a general positive murmer.

Rob the Knight nudged Clutter, “This is great!...ummm…what are we doing?” Clutter shrugged.

Amanra, glanced over one slender shoulder at the young knight, then in her heavily accented French, “The White Challenge: we will take every fort one after the other and not return to Syrtis until we are done.” Rob nodded then glanced back at Clutter with one of those “are these people crazy” looks.

All in all about 15 members of the White Company Dragoons stood on the bridge. “Were we waiting for anyone else?” asked Dingbat.

“Wait!” came a voice from the direction of Stonehenge. Another group, easily larger, much larger, approached including members of the Inquisition, Reclamation, Indignation, Steel Brotherhood, Forest Guardians and a number of other clans. Anpu, his wrinkled elven face stretched into a powerful grin, “we heard there was something interesting going on.”

“Excellent” said Ulixes as Bullshit and Bulgaro clenched a full arm shake, Salvia bashed shields with Jaud, while Xia and Lorenz waded into the waiting group clasping hands and clapping backs.

“OK, anyone else?” said Dingbat sounding a little exasperated. “Let’s go!” Everyone felt excited as the barbarians urged everyone forward.

The group crossed the bridge and entered the foggy damp confines of the swamp. At a comfortable jog Anpu pulled up next to Ulixes, “Numbers are easy in Syrtis. Easy to grow, easy to lose.”

“We just need to keep them moving. If we stop, people will forget what they are doing.”

“Are you suggesting Syrtians have an attention problem?”

Ulixes answered, “I wouldn’t say attention problem. I would say that just about anything will make them lose focus.” The two laughed.

Out of the swamp without incident and into the desert proper, Ignis is an empty land, not particularly vast, but infinitely unexciting, bland, like a bowl of oatmeal without the raisons, the brown sugar, and also without the milk and water and lacking the actual bowl: a pile-of-horrible-gruel of a place. Past the tumbledown sandstone pillars and onto the beach, then up the incline and toward the black basalt walls of Shaanarid castle.

[Silent_Shadow]

That was great. I can't wait for the next

"I wouldn't say attention problem. I would say that just about anything will make them lose focus."

Haha I loved that line, it's so true

[Angel_de_Combate]

Originally Posted by Malik2

...

Again awesome story

But im still loving how you describe(in this case, Ignis)places(previously it was a person), well put i likey.

Originally Posted by Malik2

Out of the swamp without incident and into the desert proper, Ignis is an empty land, not particularly vast, but infinitely unexciting, bland, like a bowl of oatmeal without the raisons, the brown sugar, and also without the milk and water and lacking the actual bowl: a pile-of-horrible-gruel of a place.