I recently finished (cheat free) the entire easy campaign on Warcraft III,
and have started on hard. I am awed!! Another amazing game by Blizzard!!!
PLAY IT, YOU!!! Everyone is aware that they will make an expansion pack,
right? I mean, what happens to Arthas, and that night elf hero turned
Demon guy, and, and and. It'd be SO freaking cool to play as the Burning
Legion. (drools all over self) anyway, the story is about Warcraft III,
which I don't own. Now! To the story!
'You know that when my swords leave their sheaths, they will not return there, until either you or I are dead.' I told he who had once been a friend.
'Good. I don't like sissy chicken fools.' He responded.
We drew our swords, both of us, together. Despite the large sword he wielded, he struck first, slashing open my left knee cap, splattering the nearby rock face with my blood.
No. I should start the story earlier. I was, long ago, the greatest advisor to the king. The king that sat upon a throne that, had not the undead come, would be filled with Arthas, once paladin, now a part of a great evil. I have long forgotten the name I had then, and many names I have had since. This all occurred after the Great Alliance, Night Elves, Humans, and Orcs, all fighting, not only under a common cause, but under a common banner, a common leader. I had effectively taken the position of military leader of all of the races. When I was sent, disguised as a foot soldier, to inspect a rebellion of a group of the elves, I was amazed. I was quite sufficient in combat, even then. But the king had never asked me to voyage out of his personal guard's patrol territory. I hadn't suspected the corruption just yet. I still wonder if he knew of it then.
En route, near Blackrock, our small group came across a war party of Undead. We knew not of it then, but the undead had rebelled from the Burning Legion's control, under Kel'Thuzulad, (I hope I spelled that right) Arthas, and the Lich King. Needless to say, they absolutely slaughtered us. Near when we had fallen, my personal escort, which I had grown relatively close to, along with me, took a large blow from an abomination. The escort was instantly slain, and my shield was knocked from my hand. I lay, lightheaded for a moment, as the abomination turned away. When I regained my head a few moments later, I reached over and picked up the escort's sword, and readied it in my left hand. A bloodlust came over me, and I charged.
I was no hero. Better than your average foot man, but not much. Tactically, I was far, far superior, but not in combat. I rushed up to the abomination, and, almost as though in slow motion, stuck one blade into his torn belly. I then jumped higher than seemingly possible, blade slashing a line up the beast as I went. Near it's head, I removed the blade, and went a few feet higher. As I fell back down again, I spun, fast, blades out, chopping the beast into pieces. When I landed, I was barely breathing hard. The abomination lay, dead at my feet. I then attacked the leader of this evil expedition, a Death Knight, quite like Arthas himself- still alive, but serving the Undead Scourge nonetheless. His back was tuned to me. I threw one of the blades, and it imbedded deep into his back, poking out substantially in the front, splattering live blood on his ghouls, who proceeded to try to consume the blood for regained health, but succeeded only in consuming each other. The Death Knight turned, shaking slightly from pain. I ran, and, as he prepared to cast Death Coil, leaped onto the front of his horse. The Knight, in surprise, failed his casting. In a single swing, I beheaded him. His head, over pale and wide eyed, flew far and high, until hitting a tree edging nearby woods. It left a bloodstain that would remain for a long, long time.
Despite my effort, however, we were still overcome. Moments after the beheading, a blast from a gargoyle knocked me flat onto the ground, and I blacked out.
Whew. First chapter. It'll get better later, but every story needs a beginning, right? REVIEW!! This isn't quite the way I wrote before, so I need, and CRAVE criticism (assuming it's relatively constructive)
'You know that when my swords leave their sheaths, they will not return there, until either you or I are dead.' I told he who had once been a friend.
'Good. I don't like sissy chicken fools.' He responded.
We drew our swords, both of us, together. Despite the large sword he wielded, he struck first, slashing open my left knee cap, splattering the nearby rock face with my blood.
No. I should start the story earlier. I was, long ago, the greatest advisor to the king. The king that sat upon a throne that, had not the undead come, would be filled with Arthas, once paladin, now a part of a great evil. I have long forgotten the name I had then, and many names I have had since. This all occurred after the Great Alliance, Night Elves, Humans, and Orcs, all fighting, not only under a common cause, but under a common banner, a common leader. I had effectively taken the position of military leader of all of the races. When I was sent, disguised as a foot soldier, to inspect a rebellion of a group of the elves, I was amazed. I was quite sufficient in combat, even then. But the king had never asked me to voyage out of his personal guard's patrol territory. I hadn't suspected the corruption just yet. I still wonder if he knew of it then.
En route, near Blackrock, our small group came across a war party of Undead. We knew not of it then, but the undead had rebelled from the Burning Legion's control, under Kel'Thuzulad, (I hope I spelled that right) Arthas, and the Lich King. Needless to say, they absolutely slaughtered us. Near when we had fallen, my personal escort, which I had grown relatively close to, along with me, took a large blow from an abomination. The escort was instantly slain, and my shield was knocked from my hand. I lay, lightheaded for a moment, as the abomination turned away. When I regained my head a few moments later, I reached over and picked up the escort's sword, and readied it in my left hand. A bloodlust came over me, and I charged.
I was no hero. Better than your average foot man, but not much. Tactically, I was far, far superior, but not in combat. I rushed up to the abomination, and, almost as though in slow motion, stuck one blade into his torn belly. I then jumped higher than seemingly possible, blade slashing a line up the beast as I went. Near it's head, I removed the blade, and went a few feet higher. As I fell back down again, I spun, fast, blades out, chopping the beast into pieces. When I landed, I was barely breathing hard. The abomination lay, dead at my feet. I then attacked the leader of this evil expedition, a Death Knight, quite like Arthas himself- still alive, but serving the Undead Scourge nonetheless. His back was tuned to me. I threw one of the blades, and it imbedded deep into his back, poking out substantially in the front, splattering live blood on his ghouls, who proceeded to try to consume the blood for regained health, but succeeded only in consuming each other. The Death Knight turned, shaking slightly from pain. I ran, and, as he prepared to cast Death Coil, leaped onto the front of his horse. The Knight, in surprise, failed his casting. In a single swing, I beheaded him. His head, over pale and wide eyed, flew far and high, until hitting a tree edging nearby woods. It left a bloodstain that would remain for a long, long time.
Despite my effort, however, we were still overcome. Moments after the beheading, a blast from a gargoyle knocked me flat onto the ground, and I blacked out.
Whew. First chapter. It'll get better later, but every story needs a beginning, right? REVIEW!! This isn't quite the way I wrote before, so I need, and CRAVE criticism (assuming it's relatively constructive)