Note: This story will get better; I am just introducing the main setting
and everything right now. The main character will eventually have battles
and stuff. I should have another update by tomorrow night, so check back
than. -Gustcloak Runner (The goblin assassin)
Chapter 1
He woke up in the middle of the desert. He stood up and saw a team of horses riding of into the distance, over the towering dune in the distance. He saw the horses riding away and realized the situation he was in. "Wait! Stop!" He soon realized that his cries were futile, and they were quickly ceased. He sighed and took a glance at his surroundings. It all seemed alien to him. He sighed once more and decided to walk in the direction of the long gone riders.
He started off in that direction and tried to remember how he got in this forbidden, lonely desert. He remembered a great whit flash, and than his head hurt. He walked off the headache and realized he didn't remember anything besides the great white flash.
He examined himself: he was in poor, worn out rags that were a poor excuse for clothes; wore tattered boots that were made from some kind of hide of an animal; and had a small leather case strapped to his left leg.
His eyes stopped on the case and he halted altogether. He opened the case and found a small dagger in it. He took the dagger out and examined it: it was made of a very strong metal, and looked brand new. He could see his own reflection in it.
He looked at his face in the reflection of the dagger. He had a clean- shaven face, and long black hair that went down to his shoulders. He looked to the side of his head; he saw long pointed ears. He realized that he wasn't paying any attention to his build or stature, either. He quickly looked at his body. He did not look at all like what he expected. He expected a tall nimble body; but instead found a big, bulky, strong looking stature.
Why had he expected a tall nimble figure? He thought back and tried to dig deep into his brain. He remembered tall nimble figures, with pointed ears of course, jumping very quickly. Moving to fast for his eyes to keep up with.
His head started to hurt again. He decided not to do any more thinking until he got a good nights rest; he put the dagger back in his pouch, and continued walking.
After about four or five miles of walking, he stopped. He looked around in wonder; where was he? This place looked exactly like the one he had been at a while ago. Had he been walking in circles this whole time? His head quickly turned about, and the breeze that had been following him this whole time, changed direction and started to move faster; blowing his the only sign of the direction he had been walking, away.
His head turned about quickly, and he panicked. He looked around very nervously and lost all sense of what direction he had came from. Where had he come from? Where was he going? Is there any life on this miserable planet? These questions buzzed in his head, and he feared for his life.
He ran against the wind, and continued on, with the dust tearing and piercing his skin.
When the winds calmed down to the point where he could look past his arms length, he saw, or what appeared to be, the ruins of a city. He ran even harder, for fear that the winds might pick up once more and for the hopes of life and rest.
He went into the city, ran into the closest building to him and collapsed inside. Not noticing the native people eating their lunch as the winds howled outside.
Chapter 1
He woke up in the middle of the desert. He stood up and saw a team of horses riding of into the distance, over the towering dune in the distance. He saw the horses riding away and realized the situation he was in. "Wait! Stop!" He soon realized that his cries were futile, and they were quickly ceased. He sighed and took a glance at his surroundings. It all seemed alien to him. He sighed once more and decided to walk in the direction of the long gone riders.
He started off in that direction and tried to remember how he got in this forbidden, lonely desert. He remembered a great whit flash, and than his head hurt. He walked off the headache and realized he didn't remember anything besides the great white flash.
He examined himself: he was in poor, worn out rags that were a poor excuse for clothes; wore tattered boots that were made from some kind of hide of an animal; and had a small leather case strapped to his left leg.
His eyes stopped on the case and he halted altogether. He opened the case and found a small dagger in it. He took the dagger out and examined it: it was made of a very strong metal, and looked brand new. He could see his own reflection in it.
He looked at his face in the reflection of the dagger. He had a clean- shaven face, and long black hair that went down to his shoulders. He looked to the side of his head; he saw long pointed ears. He realized that he wasn't paying any attention to his build or stature, either. He quickly looked at his body. He did not look at all like what he expected. He expected a tall nimble body; but instead found a big, bulky, strong looking stature.
Why had he expected a tall nimble figure? He thought back and tried to dig deep into his brain. He remembered tall nimble figures, with pointed ears of course, jumping very quickly. Moving to fast for his eyes to keep up with.
His head started to hurt again. He decided not to do any more thinking until he got a good nights rest; he put the dagger back in his pouch, and continued walking.
After about four or five miles of walking, he stopped. He looked around in wonder; where was he? This place looked exactly like the one he had been at a while ago. Had he been walking in circles this whole time? His head quickly turned about, and the breeze that had been following him this whole time, changed direction and started to move faster; blowing his the only sign of the direction he had been walking, away.
His head turned about quickly, and he panicked. He looked around very nervously and lost all sense of what direction he had came from. Where had he come from? Where was he going? Is there any life on this miserable planet? These questions buzzed in his head, and he feared for his life.
He ran against the wind, and continued on, with the dust tearing and piercing his skin.
When the winds calmed down to the point where he could look past his arms length, he saw, or what appeared to be, the ruins of a city. He ran even harder, for fear that the winds might pick up once more and for the hopes of life and rest.
He went into the city, ran into the closest building to him and collapsed inside. Not noticing the native people eating their lunch as the winds howled outside.