A BLAST FROM THE PAST- READ THIS FIRST!
This is an oddly-written story. The first chapter was written and stored on my Zip disk for about a year. And about half of the second chapter, too. But, luckily, I have learned how to write. I'll eventually edit this, but not now. Well, I did some editing. Anyways, look for a second chapter, and welcome to a modern-day, twisted version of the Forgotten Realms series.
Forgotten Realms: Second Age
Aftermath
Forgotten Realms, D&D, and all trademarks of the series belong to Wizards of the Coast. The characters are mine, however. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------
PROLOGUE
It was the dawn of another day in Shadowdale.
Well, technically, it was one day before the Time of Troubles.
Elminster looked back at four years of toil. He looked back at the trickery of magic he had created, along with 11 other mages, and twelve clerics, and numerous potty breaks. He was called upon to create a spell, a spell that was unlike any other. Not only did it require the arcane magics of the mage, it also required the god-given powers of a cleric.
This spell was so powerful, no mind on Faerun could contain it within his mind, as it resulted in major headaches, bulging eyes, and almost always, the exploding head.
So, they had to commit it to a scroll. A VERY long one.
To keep it safeguarded by villians, ne-er do wells, and the like, they made a scroll case that was practically almost unbreakable and wouldn't break up over time, thanks to some runes from the Shadowdale Quilting Society. After that little endeavor, they had to choose a place to bury it. The place chosen to bury it was six miles north of Shadowdale, in a graveyard.
Many people got very angry about that.
The Mayor of Shadowdale made a town hall meeting to explain how no one could possibly find the scroll in the graveyard, but, the exclamations of how the last time they tried to do that.
"What the hell is wrong with you, you drunken fool?! The last time ye put yer gaudy junk in ye damned graveyard, the town was swarming with ye damn undead! And, we lost most of the town's population thanks to ye damned "Sword of Re-Animation"!" a dwarf ranted. The town cheered.
So, the mayor said to the town that he would not disturb the undead by putting the scroll in the graveyard. I've already filled it up with my leftover chicken bones, The Mayor thought.
But, he did it anyways. On the morning that The Time of Troubles began, The Mayor fetched a boy from a poor family to go do the work for a small amount of gold. The boy left with the scroll, but, never returned. When the parents found out, they let the cat out of the bag, and Mayor Jull was impeached, never to show his face in Shadowdale again.
The scroll, however, seemed to have been lost forever.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- --------------------------------
BOOK 1: Wherein our heroes and villains meet
CHAPTER 1
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- --------------------------------
Pentonville, New Jersey 5:37 AM
Somewhere, inside the forest, you would hear birds. Lots of birds chirping. So, why was this forest constantly bearing the sounds of something un- Mother Nature like?
To answer your question: A house by a dirt road was housing a 19 year old gamer named Marvin Hadablaster. Marvin Hadablaster was the pale-skinned, nerdy six foot three person that never gave any thought to almost anything except for these things: 1) Food, 2) Phone and his DSL connection, 3) His computer, 4) Electricity, 5) His computer and his games. Other than that, well, he'll ignore it.
So, on this one fateful morning, Marvin was jamming to the sounds of Green Day while playing an intense game of Unreal. His eyes were glued to the screen, as if he were the character inside the game, and he wondered if he would get out of this situation alive.
Then, suddenly, inside the game, a rather large alien popped out from behind the doorway. Marvin's character picked up his rocket launcher, took aim, and blew the creature's face into his skull. The monster collapsed and ceased to exist.
Then, ten other monsters decided to do the same thing. They popped out of their hidey-holes and crevices, and began to fire at Marvin with their blasters. Marvin circle-strafed in vain, trying to deal with the creatures one by one, but, it was too late. The last shot connected with his character's leg, snapped it right off, and Marvin's character hit his head against the wall. Then, his character suddenly lost his IQ points, decided to look at what gun he was carrying at the wrong end, and accidentally fired the trigger.
Marvin slapped his hand against his forehead. "Dammit. Stupid Realism AI." Marvin sighed, and looked at the clock.
And then the knock on the door came.
=====================================================
Bangor, Maine
=====================================================
Man, whatever is past those tripwires and security cameras must be really good, Jeric mused.
Jeric Halper was 22, had brown-blonde hair, was 6'1", and usually wore a outfit that you would normally see only in a Star Wars novel.
He was a regular, peace-loving citizen by day, but, he was the one who usually disturbed the peace unintentionally at night. Why, you may ask.
Because he was a self-proclaimed master thief. Don't let the "master" fool you, "so-so" may have adequately described his skills. He was nowhere near being a master thief, he was a man fueled by his ego and the obsession with getting his valuable shineys. And, he looked smart, but, in truth, he wasn't very bright.
And when Jeric was tipped off about the science lab and the possible mysteries that surrounded it, he was eager to go take a look.
They had waited, or so they thought, for the inevitable comedy that would result in his arrest.
Jeric studied the tripwires. Out of his backpack, he pulled out some mirrors with wooden stands. Then. he placed the mirrors in front of the tripwires, making them point their laser sensor directly at the ceiling. He did this with the other tripwires, making a safe passage to the lab.
Here I come.
The slide-door was locked, and how much Jeric attempted to pull it open, he had no success. So, Jeric got out his lockpicks. He began to pick the lock very slowly at first, getting comfortable with getting his picks fitted in, and then-
SNAP! "Dammit!" Jeric cried, then, realizing his mistake, covered his mouth with hands.
Then, a voice cried out: "Who's there!? George, is that you?" Shit. Jeric looked frantically for a way to sneak up on the guard and club him over the head. He climbed up to the ceiling.
"George?" The fat tub of lard in his security guard outfit cried out. He took a bite of his jelly donut, and walked towards the door Jeric was trying to pick. "Huh. What happened to the tripwires? And why does the lock look like it's been picked into-"
Jeric fell from the ceiling, onto the fat guy's shoulders, and ripped off his helmet. The fat guy reached for his pistol, but, Jeric, in a wave of adrenaline, beat the fat guy to it. The pistol slammed against the wall, fired a bullet which went into the door, and clattered. The fat guy bent over on his back, but Jeric didn't notice, and he fell on the floor with a fat guy on top of him.. Jeric struggled in vain to get away, but, the guy's fat seemingly sucked him in and held him there.
Tim reached for his pistol.
========================================================= 5:55 AM
Pentonville, New Jersey ========================================================================
Marvin went up to the door and opened it. "Yes, yes, you have my attention."
It was an old lady, wearing white robes, a cowl, and holding a book written in Elvish. "Hello, kind sir! I just happened to wander by your house-"
"Get to the point. Unreal is calling."
"Would you like to join the masses of forest elves that have given themselves to Melikki?"
Marvin groaned in his thoughts. Fortunately, he had something to detract annoying Jehovah's witnesses types.
"Why?"
"Sir, you live off of the forest."
"I do not."
"But, sir, this house is made of wood. Your door is made of wood. Your goblet is made of wood."
Marvin snickered. "Wood."
The old woman seemed shocked. "You dirty man!"
Marvin then pretended to play dumb. "I took a bath in the evening! I'm not dirty!"
"Whatever, young man. Melikki is the forest goddess. She loves her forest, and I think it's time you gave something back to her."
"Uh. no. Please stay away from my house, and stop using the bong, you old hag." Marvin then slammed the door in her face.
The old woman was offended, right down to her withered heart. "Well, whippersnapper, I NEVER!"
She scoffed and walked away.
"What the hell is a Melikki? Sounds like a damn soft-drink!" Marvin said to himself inside his house.
This is an oddly-written story. The first chapter was written and stored on my Zip disk for about a year. And about half of the second chapter, too. But, luckily, I have learned how to write. I'll eventually edit this, but not now. Well, I did some editing. Anyways, look for a second chapter, and welcome to a modern-day, twisted version of the Forgotten Realms series.
Forgotten Realms: Second Age
Aftermath
Forgotten Realms, D&D, and all trademarks of the series belong to Wizards of the Coast. The characters are mine, however. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------
PROLOGUE
It was the dawn of another day in Shadowdale.
Well, technically, it was one day before the Time of Troubles.
Elminster looked back at four years of toil. He looked back at the trickery of magic he had created, along with 11 other mages, and twelve clerics, and numerous potty breaks. He was called upon to create a spell, a spell that was unlike any other. Not only did it require the arcane magics of the mage, it also required the god-given powers of a cleric.
This spell was so powerful, no mind on Faerun could contain it within his mind, as it resulted in major headaches, bulging eyes, and almost always, the exploding head.
So, they had to commit it to a scroll. A VERY long one.
To keep it safeguarded by villians, ne-er do wells, and the like, they made a scroll case that was practically almost unbreakable and wouldn't break up over time, thanks to some runes from the Shadowdale Quilting Society. After that little endeavor, they had to choose a place to bury it. The place chosen to bury it was six miles north of Shadowdale, in a graveyard.
Many people got very angry about that.
The Mayor of Shadowdale made a town hall meeting to explain how no one could possibly find the scroll in the graveyard, but, the exclamations of how the last time they tried to do that.
"What the hell is wrong with you, you drunken fool?! The last time ye put yer gaudy junk in ye damned graveyard, the town was swarming with ye damn undead! And, we lost most of the town's population thanks to ye damned "Sword of Re-Animation"!" a dwarf ranted. The town cheered.
So, the mayor said to the town that he would not disturb the undead by putting the scroll in the graveyard. I've already filled it up with my leftover chicken bones, The Mayor thought.
But, he did it anyways. On the morning that The Time of Troubles began, The Mayor fetched a boy from a poor family to go do the work for a small amount of gold. The boy left with the scroll, but, never returned. When the parents found out, they let the cat out of the bag, and Mayor Jull was impeached, never to show his face in Shadowdale again.
The scroll, however, seemed to have been lost forever.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- --------------------------------
BOOK 1: Wherein our heroes and villains meet
CHAPTER 1
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- --------------------------------
Pentonville, New Jersey 5:37 AM
Somewhere, inside the forest, you would hear birds. Lots of birds chirping. So, why was this forest constantly bearing the sounds of something un- Mother Nature like?
To answer your question: A house by a dirt road was housing a 19 year old gamer named Marvin Hadablaster. Marvin Hadablaster was the pale-skinned, nerdy six foot three person that never gave any thought to almost anything except for these things: 1) Food, 2) Phone and his DSL connection, 3) His computer, 4) Electricity, 5) His computer and his games. Other than that, well, he'll ignore it.
So, on this one fateful morning, Marvin was jamming to the sounds of Green Day while playing an intense game of Unreal. His eyes were glued to the screen, as if he were the character inside the game, and he wondered if he would get out of this situation alive.
Then, suddenly, inside the game, a rather large alien popped out from behind the doorway. Marvin's character picked up his rocket launcher, took aim, and blew the creature's face into his skull. The monster collapsed and ceased to exist.
Then, ten other monsters decided to do the same thing. They popped out of their hidey-holes and crevices, and began to fire at Marvin with their blasters. Marvin circle-strafed in vain, trying to deal with the creatures one by one, but, it was too late. The last shot connected with his character's leg, snapped it right off, and Marvin's character hit his head against the wall. Then, his character suddenly lost his IQ points, decided to look at what gun he was carrying at the wrong end, and accidentally fired the trigger.
Marvin slapped his hand against his forehead. "Dammit. Stupid Realism AI." Marvin sighed, and looked at the clock.
And then the knock on the door came.
=====================================================
Bangor, Maine
=====================================================
Man, whatever is past those tripwires and security cameras must be really good, Jeric mused.
Jeric Halper was 22, had brown-blonde hair, was 6'1", and usually wore a outfit that you would normally see only in a Star Wars novel.
He was a regular, peace-loving citizen by day, but, he was the one who usually disturbed the peace unintentionally at night. Why, you may ask.
Because he was a self-proclaimed master thief. Don't let the "master" fool you, "so-so" may have adequately described his skills. He was nowhere near being a master thief, he was a man fueled by his ego and the obsession with getting his valuable shineys. And, he looked smart, but, in truth, he wasn't very bright.
And when Jeric was tipped off about the science lab and the possible mysteries that surrounded it, he was eager to go take a look.
They had waited, or so they thought, for the inevitable comedy that would result in his arrest.
Jeric studied the tripwires. Out of his backpack, he pulled out some mirrors with wooden stands. Then. he placed the mirrors in front of the tripwires, making them point their laser sensor directly at the ceiling. He did this with the other tripwires, making a safe passage to the lab.
Here I come.
The slide-door was locked, and how much Jeric attempted to pull it open, he had no success. So, Jeric got out his lockpicks. He began to pick the lock very slowly at first, getting comfortable with getting his picks fitted in, and then-
SNAP! "Dammit!" Jeric cried, then, realizing his mistake, covered his mouth with hands.
Then, a voice cried out: "Who's there!? George, is that you?" Shit. Jeric looked frantically for a way to sneak up on the guard and club him over the head. He climbed up to the ceiling.
"George?" The fat tub of lard in his security guard outfit cried out. He took a bite of his jelly donut, and walked towards the door Jeric was trying to pick. "Huh. What happened to the tripwires? And why does the lock look like it's been picked into-"
Jeric fell from the ceiling, onto the fat guy's shoulders, and ripped off his helmet. The fat guy reached for his pistol, but, Jeric, in a wave of adrenaline, beat the fat guy to it. The pistol slammed against the wall, fired a bullet which went into the door, and clattered. The fat guy bent over on his back, but Jeric didn't notice, and he fell on the floor with a fat guy on top of him.. Jeric struggled in vain to get away, but, the guy's fat seemingly sucked him in and held him there.
Tim reached for his pistol.
========================================================= 5:55 AM
Pentonville, New Jersey ========================================================================
Marvin went up to the door and opened it. "Yes, yes, you have my attention."
It was an old lady, wearing white robes, a cowl, and holding a book written in Elvish. "Hello, kind sir! I just happened to wander by your house-"
"Get to the point. Unreal is calling."
"Would you like to join the masses of forest elves that have given themselves to Melikki?"
Marvin groaned in his thoughts. Fortunately, he had something to detract annoying Jehovah's witnesses types.
"Why?"
"Sir, you live off of the forest."
"I do not."
"But, sir, this house is made of wood. Your door is made of wood. Your goblet is made of wood."
Marvin snickered. "Wood."
The old woman seemed shocked. "You dirty man!"
Marvin then pretended to play dumb. "I took a bath in the evening! I'm not dirty!"
"Whatever, young man. Melikki is the forest goddess. She loves her forest, and I think it's time you gave something back to her."
"Uh. no. Please stay away from my house, and stop using the bong, you old hag." Marvin then slammed the door in her face.
The old woman was offended, right down to her withered heart. "Well, whippersnapper, I NEVER!"
She scoffed and walked away.
"What the hell is a Melikki? Sounds like a damn soft-drink!" Marvin said to himself inside his house.