Chapter 1 - Note From Father
Submitted June 10, 2012 Updated June 14, 2012 Status Incomplete | Some ish for me an Nanu to pwn ppl in (no big deal) **Comments are always appreciated**
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Comics » - Original Comics |
Chapter 1 - Note From Father
Chapter 1 - Note From Father
Chapter 001: Note From Father[/u]
T[/font]he sound of bare skin slapping against wet rock was pulsating through the cave. But not the rhythmic sound of a single pair of feet. It was a stampede. The sound of dozens of in-debt slaves screaming, scrambling. A single boy, short but wielding a sword almost as large as he, shifted through the masses silently. Each civilian that crossed his obscure path swiftly dove to the ground as quickly as he could hop to his next victim. A group of 4 slaves slid around to a halt to face the cloaked boy. They squinted in his direction trying to glimpse the scene but couldn’t grasp the situation. What they saw looked like the adolescent boy skipping around like a lagging video game. They each simultaneously flung their arms to their sides with their palms wide open pointing at the young man. Flames suddenly burst around their hands and they unleashed a volley of flame spheres upon the boy. As they all approached him at incredible speeds, the boy stopped moving and started to walk towards the group. He smirked and his eyes began to glow a brilliant blue that illuminated his whitened teeth, showing a sharp, jagged, demonic grin. The blazing balls of heat each started to slow as the neared him and the instant that one got within a few inches of him it would slowly frost over and fall to the ground, shattering into solid ice. The awe-struck slaves were frozen in fear. Their panic-driven strikes launched hundreds more of the projectiles (divided between the four of them) but the results were not altered. Once there was a brief moment of pause in the flames, the boy’s smile disappeared with the glow and he turned around. As he walked away the four slaves fled for their lives to escape with the other slaves.
“frack!” The kid yelled as he swung his fist into a stone wall. He walked into a bright opening that led to outside of the cave. As he exits the sun flares the world into illuminesence. He flips his hood backwards, off of his head and his light hair shines bright with royal blue highlights as the sun reflects off. He sticks his sword into the dirt of a forest floor as his shoes stop crunching through loose gravel. He pulls a small, dirty and wrinkled piece of paper from a pocket in his embroidered jacket. The writing on it is in a very well-written script that stands out perfectly from the darkened paper. As his eyes glide through the sentences an older man’s voice recites them in his head with a warm and familiar-feeling tone.
“Son:
You’ve made me proud. My son, the Soultoucher. You’ve shown so much talent. Please remember all of the lessons of our tribe in swordplay. In my closet are the items I would’ve liked to give you once you completed your training in both your Ancestor abilities and swordplay. Our clan’s prized possession: the Lightning Blade. Also a guild’s hooded robe, boots, and gloves. They should have embroidering on them. Seek out the others. With the other embroiderings. I’m sorry I couldn’t watch you grow to your fullest. I’ll always love you.
~ Father”
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T[/font]he sound of bare skin slapping against wet rock was pulsating through the cave. But not the rhythmic sound of a single pair of feet. It was a stampede. The sound of dozens of in-debt slaves screaming, scrambling. A single boy, short but wielding a sword almost as large as he, shifted through the masses silently. Each civilian that crossed his obscure path swiftly dove to the ground as quickly as he could hop to his next victim. A group of 4 slaves slid around to a halt to face the cloaked boy. They squinted in his direction trying to glimpse the scene but couldn’t grasp the situation. What they saw looked like the adolescent boy skipping around like a lagging video game. They each simultaneously flung their arms to their sides with their palms wide open pointing at the young man. Flames suddenly burst around their hands and they unleashed a volley of flame spheres upon the boy. As they all approached him at incredible speeds, the boy stopped moving and started to walk towards the group. He smirked and his eyes began to glow a brilliant blue that illuminated his whitened teeth, showing a sharp, jagged, demonic grin. The blazing balls of heat each started to slow as the neared him and the instant that one got within a few inches of him it would slowly frost over and fall to the ground, shattering into solid ice. The awe-struck slaves were frozen in fear. Their panic-driven strikes launched hundreds more of the projectiles (divided between the four of them) but the results were not altered. Once there was a brief moment of pause in the flames, the boy’s smile disappeared with the glow and he turned around. As he walked away the four slaves fled for their lives to escape with the other slaves.
“frack!” The kid yelled as he swung his fist into a stone wall. He walked into a bright opening that led to outside of the cave. As he exits the sun flares the world into illuminesence. He flips his hood backwards, off of his head and his light hair shines bright with royal blue highlights as the sun reflects off. He sticks his sword into the dirt of a forest floor as his shoes stop crunching through loose gravel. He pulls a small, dirty and wrinkled piece of paper from a pocket in his embroidered jacket. The writing on it is in a very well-written script that stands out perfectly from the darkened paper. As his eyes glide through the sentences an older man’s voice recites them in his head with a warm and familiar-feeling tone.
“Son:
You’ve made me proud. My son, the Soultoucher. You’ve shown so much talent. Please remember all of the lessons of our tribe in swordplay. In my closet are the items I would’ve liked to give you once you completed your training in both your Ancestor abilities and swordplay. Our clan’s prized possession: the Lightning Blade. Also a guild’s hooded robe, boots, and gloves. They should have embroidering on them. Seek out the others. With the other embroiderings. I’m sorry I couldn’t watch you grow to your fullest. I’ll always love you.
~ Father”
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