Merry Christmas

Hello boys and gals, (I know this is a bit late, but..) I wish you a Merry Christmas, I wish you a Merry Christmas, I wish you a Merry Christmas, and a happy new year. At least I wasn’t late for that last one eh? Cyber drinks for everybody! Thou shall not suffer. (All I want for Christmas is more comments on my litterature works :P).


"The Retired Assasin" Part 6.

Its been a while since the last one, simply because I needed some time to picture how the battle would be.

The sunlight started creeping over the nearing hills as Rendal planted his feet outside the tent, he clenched his fists and shouted “To arms my brethren!”, after the echoes had retreated total silence replaced them, even the horses were silent, then the first warning came in, the howl of a shadowlurker sounded twice. Even if noone had heard the weak wardrums, nobody would ever have missed the penetrating howl, unless they were deaf. Somehow the camp started moving again, the howls had triggered a part of their minds were the only things that existed were warlust and obedience, total obedience. Everyone was getting ready for battle, saddling horses, preparing their armor, sharpening their weapons, eating and drinking, feeding horses and so on. The camp was now a stew of noice and shuffling, but due to effiency and discipline the camp was cleared up in less than twenty minutes, meaning they had less than five to prepare themselves properly for the battle to come, even less if Rendal and the officers’ estimates were wrong. The soldiers had now assembled around the rounded hill Rendal had placed himself on, obviously expecting him to make some sort of speech, so he figured it was just best to get it over with. “This is what we started the journey for!”, he said holding his battlestaff high, “To send them back to their supposed creator!”, he paused and took firm hold of his battlestaff with both hands, “Lets show the thieves that there exists none!” he said as he smashed his battlestaff into the ground, as the wood met the mud the collision made an incredibly loud “bang”. “KILL!” he shouted as loud as he could, his voice dark and rasping. The men, his men, raised their swords and shouted back as one. “KILL!”, the word echoed again and again, and the massive shout spread to the edges of the small hills west of the camp where the enemy forces were moving forward. Sarize rode up to meet Rendal leading his horse beside her, when she finally reached him at the top of the hill she leaned in close and said “You’ve already lost this battle, even from afar I could see that the enemy host was huge, they outnumber us at least eight to one. How can you possibly hope to come out victorious.” Rendal blinked slowly, mounted his horse and said “I don’t.”, Sarize opened her mouth to protest but Rendal raised his hand and said “I mean I know how we can get out of this alive, and victorious.” To this Sarize answered “So, are you gonna tell me what your plan is ?”, Rendal looked calm and sincere as he said “No.”, he started riding slowly down the hill, holding Sarize’s horse’s reigns tightly in his left hand and his horse’s reigns in his right. “Battle calls!” He shouted as he let go of the reigns of the horse beside his own and started riding slowly out of the small collection of trees where a camp had once been. When they emerged into the blazing sunlight, they rode so that they all looked like completely inexperienced riders, and 200 paces away the enemy general thought, “Ah, how fitting, if it rides like a dog, it most likely is a dog!” His men rode with newfound overconfidence, and had allready passed on the battle as won before they even had met with the other ranks. The only one that rode clearly unaffected by the sight of the enemy was “The watchman” of the troop, an elite within all tools and tricks of war, strategy, spionage, and survival. If the troops ended up at a loss the watchman’s only task would be to survive, and inform. The watchman was dressed in a black silken cloak, had black hair, black ringmail and two shining shortswords clearly made of Dorian steel. When the hosts were 50 paces from each other, as the clash between hooves and grass rang loudly throughout the plain, Rendal’s host donned bows and notched arrows, ready to loose at command. Naturally when the other host’s general saw the notched bows he ordered a quickening of the pace, then fell a bit back among the ranks. Even as the first ranks increased their pace to a gallop, their minds affected by adrenaline, they never realized that they were only there to shield the more experienced soldiers from the arrows. Rendal shouted “Loose!” and the sound of bowstrings straightening spread throughout the would-be battlefield, surprisingly the arrows were aimed at the horses, and for each horse that met its bane another 10 horses and soldiers were affected by its fall, and after the second wave of arrows the host had almost been stopped entirely. Somehow most of the soldiers managed to start up again, and even though hundreds of them were dead, there were still thousands left. “Spread!” Rendal shouted, and each and every of his men distanced from each other, to allow riders to ride between. The enemy host was only 10 paces apart from the riders, and as the first wave galloped in between the first rank of rendal’s host closed together and trapped the first ranks among enemies, as their dying screams could be heard the watchman realized that they were dealing with a tricky general, where as the General thought he was dealing with an unexperienced kid. Rendal smashed one end of his staff to the ground, and eight razor sharp blades appeared, four blades placed in a circle near each end of the rounded staff, and rode out into what was now a frenzied war zone.
Whereever he wirled his staff men died in front of him, and his men fought even more fiercily in his presence. As metal smashed against metal, where men’s dying howls could be heard even fierce shouts of anger rang in the ears of the soldiers, and after Rendal himself had joined the battle it seemed as if the men from the north was winning. The general spotted rendal and thought himself the only one worthy to beat him so he started to cut his path forward, the general was riding with his sword in one hand and his shield in the other, fighting men at both sides, as Sarize appeared in front of him, a two handed sword in her hands. The general gave the man to his right a new hole in his stomach and bashed the man two his left’s nose in so hard that the splinters of bone penetrated his brain. He slashed at Sarize’s head but his steel met hers, and witthin the blink of an eye, the end of her sword was flying towards his legs, but when it should have met flesh, it met wood instead, and with a “chunk” her sword was firmly attached to his shield..

The end of this part..


Completed open blog section of my site :D

Yes, I already know that I’m a very talented man, yes, thank you, no, do not praise me to much for my incredible work..
What is all this fuss about ? Well I managed to custom write a blog script for my use and apply in less than one day.
Not only that, but I also had to mess with the design, and deal with minor(and huge) bugs as I kept going, but nontheless.
Now I am done, finito, finished, my work is completed, now all I need is for someone to post something in my open blog, it will be seen rotating on blogsoldiers, blogexplosion and hopefully blogmad also.
Where you can post:
Thank you for your time.. Will be back soon with some more extremely creative content 🙂

Warm regards,