A few things + The new ‘Retired’ Assasin part.

Well because I decided to start up my blog again, which basically means start writing something that I like to call creative again, I decided to write a little something for the Retired Assasin. I will probably write more parts for the Retired assasin series later, and might even come up with a better name for it, because I have an uncompleted temporary storyline at the moment. So I’m sitting here on a close to useless portable pc writing this while even the program “Word” laggs the computer, hoping that someone will read this and enjoy it. Also I’d like a few comments. For those who do not know, “The ‘Retired’ Assasin” is in the medieval fantasy genre. The weather is quite bad at the moment, but due to a trip to one of the nearest towns, I seem to have mostly whatever I would need for when the weather gets better(hopefully). I wish you all a great summer from here.

The ‘Retired’ Assasin Part 9

The young man known as “ The Beast” by his enemies was wondering wether he should rejoice over their recent victory or not. Because from what he had heard, the king’s royal guard was supposed to be a larger force than the enemy they had just fought, and the council that chose him had also told him not to count on underestimation from the King and his advisors. Maybe they were simply trying to lull him into a false sense of security, and as he thought of it they had succeded in doing that to his men, he had actually had protests when he denied their request to start a huge campfire to celebrate, also when he denied them to pursue the retreaters, something that the men, his men had made into a tradition after entering the lands of the thieves. The stench of human and horse urine alike made it near unbearable to just sit still in the camp, causing a huge amount of noise because the soldiers all tended to weapons or horses or food, the food which had to be served cold due to Rendal’s orders, causing even more protests from his men.

Despite their protests none of them would even consider going against his orders because of what had happened last time in a similar situation. Rendal had proved that his “head was in the right place” over and over again. Also many of the seemingly crowded tents were basically falling apart, and the fact that there were trees almost everywhere made it hard to see even some order among it all. The camp looked like a lot of tents assorted randomly among the trees. Except for Rendal and Sarize’s Tents and a few other tents that was placed in a perfect circle around a clearing in which the ashes of past fires lay. The young man called Rendal was sitting on an improvised bench, of his own making. A broad plank balanced across two huge wooden stocks.

As he was imagining all apparent reasons for the enemy’s defeat he did not notice that one of his officers, hi only one to be exact, Sarize, was standing infront of him, until she cleared her throat loudly. “What?” He said irritably, “You’ve been sitting here for hours. The men, your men are loosing sight of what they are doing here in the woods, to them it was a surprise that you ordered a stop to their plans of pursuit of the thieves retreat.” He licked his lips slightly before answering, sounding rather annoyed. “Sarize, have i not told you already?” She sighed and looked severely at him with her round brown eyes. “Yes Rendal, but your men need to hear it from you it seems.” Rendal sighed loudly, Why don’t they get it? Sarize smiled at him, So young he thought. She was the oldest of the two, but he still felt that she was too young to be there. Too young to risk her life for a cause not her own, like himself.

The temporary end of Part 9. I am hoping to be able to add new additions to my blog as I’m going home tomorrow, and after that I will head north in Norway to stay at my grandmothers place and meet some of my relatives. I also hope that you will now comment after reading through. Hopefully I will also manage to add more poetry and/or fantasy writing as the summer continues.

Please visit the blog of the week: Life at the edge

Also I’m planning on doing a “surf-a-ton” evening/night to tuesday to get some new readers.
Everybody have a great summer.

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The ‘retired’ asssasin part 8.

As Rendal was looking over his restless men, he could not help but wonder if any of them actually betrayed them, allthough their betrayal might be the only reason that they were alive and free now, it could present humongous problems later. Actually, if there was a betrayer, and if he somehow managed to contact the thieves, most likely none of them would survive this week. God how he hated the damn mondays!

Your plan worked master, you might have saved his and many of his men’s lives.
Sarize thought intently, and made it wander, wander until it reached her master’s mind.
Of course it worked! Have I ever given you any reason to doubt my abilities?
The thought was forced into her mind like a nail into a plank.
No.
Her simple answer brought a long silence upon her mind, after the series of intense interruptions it had suffered this last hour, finally being able to relax was soothing.
The boy must live, see to it that he does, and remember, you suffer the same fate as him.
With this he was gone, no longer did his presence torment her mind.
Not only shall he be alive, he shall serve our will.
Sarize thought.

Back again?/Reviewing "The Red Dragon"/The retired assasin part 7

I know i probably don’t have any readers anymore and that this will be pointless to say.. But nevertheless..
I’ve just seen what I consider a good and creative movie, which somehow draws me to my digital home, My blog.
(It might shock some of you that the movie I was just watching was “the red dragon” the “follow-up” to Hannibal. Where the intellectual cannibal Hannibal Lecter, yet again, almost manages to kill the f.b.i agent that almost caught him, it really is a good movie you know.. I bet the book, if there is a book, is good too.
Hannibal is a good movie to by the way, and anthony hopkins a brilliant actor.
If you by now have jumped to the conclusion that I’m a sick human being, you may or may not be right, as I’m in the process of finding out now.)

I know i almost never write anything here anymore, the motivation for it is somewhat lacking because it seems that noone really cares if i write here or not, and in the end. Thats why I’m here, I want you to read and comment on my writings, not because I’m a control freak and want to “fuck” with your minds. Simply because a large percentage of bloggers are more than averagely gifted with brains, And this offers an unique opportunity to “reach out” to someone I feel more akin to than people I know “in the real world”.
And besides, if I’m going to be a Writer, I might as well start somewhere, and for some reason, I believe a blog is a good place to start.
If I do have any readers left, I hope you have coped in the absence of new posts, I hope that this post will mean a change in the trend I’ve been having lately, to drop out on the things I really want to get done. (Practicing playing the base, writing posts on my blog, add a few pages to my book/short story, and work out)
I’ll keep any readers informed of the “make over” I’m going to enforce on my way of living.
Keep your minds keen, allthough this won’t be seen, you never know when its your turn to be terrorised by the mean.
*Laughing* wow.. Was that crap or what ?
No matter how good or bad that poem was, the importance is of this is certainly existent, as “loosing your head” in difficult situations, or not being able to come through difficult situations because of an untrained mind, could prove to be a person’s downfall.
It seems my mind could need some training as I don’t seem to realize how to get readers to my blog that will actually stay readers for a longer period of time than the counter on a “blog traffic exchange”.
As it is this means to me, all my work on this blog is wasted, all my time spent writing, designing and surfing, all wasted, since I am unable to reach out to the readers in the way I’d like to.
If I only got like 2-3 “permanent” readers, I’d have no grudges whatsoever, to go back to blogging on a regular basis, the thing is, I’m writing this blog for myself, but for it to have the wanted effect(kind of self therapy really) I think I’d need some very deep and intellectual comments..
Just joking, but some comments would be nice though, and if you just read through it, I’ll be more than satisfied with that.
Well, now that I’ve told you my excuse for not blogging on a regular basis anymore, I think I’ll perhaps try and add a new part to “The retired assasin” series, which noone seems to like/read/look at the title.
Nevertheless, here it goes, and I really truthfully, hope you like it, wait a second her matey! The review comes first!(Mostly all “very very bad writing” comes from my very lacking Englich vocabulary, as my primary language is Norwegian not english, so if you have any suggestions for improvement when it comes to choice of words, please refer to this in a comment with what would be your choice of words, and a precise definition of this/these word(s).)

Review of “The Red Dragon”:
The plot:
The retired agent that put Hannibal Lecter away for life, is contacted by one of his former partners, about a serial killer case he’s assigned to. During a thrilling chain of events,(for instance where their plan to get the killer out in the open backfires, and gets an irritating journalist killed.) the retired agent, finds out that Hannibal tries to have his family murdered, via the serial killer, who apparently is a big fan of Hannibal Lecter and his work, this new serial killer believes he is transforming into a dragon, by killing (what he calls transforming) women, and just killing (not transforming) their families. The serial killer meets a blind woman who treats him kindly, and there were at least strong indications that she also had sex with him, through this, the serial killer does not want to become the red dragon anymore, and tries to stop the transformation by eating the original picture of the red dragon.(The red dragon is the name of a picture which he has tattooed over the entire backside of his body.) But, when the serial killer was away, someone the blind woman used to see as a “creep with a constant hard-on” somehow persuades her to let him take her home and stopping for dinner along the way. And the serial killer sees this as betrayal and shoots the man.
I will not tell you more of the plot, and definately not the end. If you have not seen it you should see it, and fast! As I mentioned earlier I think this is a very good movie.

Some of the reasons I think this movie is above average:

First of all there is a lot of good actors in the movie, and no, I do not (like some people) refer to famous actors, I simply refer to people who are good at acting. For example: one of my favourite actors is in it, Anthony Hopkins, he’s one of my favourite actors partly based on his permformance in the movie called “Hannibal” the movie preceding this one in the “series”. I do not think that many people would argue against a claim that he’s a good actor, but if you disagree, you can post a comment.
Secondly, I like the story of the movie.
Thirdly, I think there are a lot of good lines in the movie, like when Hannibal says something similar to this: the weight of imagination is fear.
These three factors and more make this movie more than worth watching, sadly it reveals who the killer is quite early, but in despite of that there are many surprises in the movie. I reccomend viewing it in a relatively dark room, late in the evening or even the night.

Now, before you walk away from your computer to rent/buy “The Red Dragon”, read the newest part of the retired assasin, and I also hope that you will take time to comment on the new part of the retired assasin before you go out to rent or buy the movie/ something else.

“The ‘retired’ assasin”, Part 7(may add more later)
Sarize was standing there, breathing hard trying to drag the enemy general out of his saddle or freeing her blade from his wooden shield, both scenarios seemed impossible though, and those two scenarios being her only hope to survive this battle, it could not be helped.
Time seemingly slowed down to a point where the blink of an eye lasted seconds, and all sounds were blocked out, the only thing she could see was the general slowly rasing his sword-hand to deal the last and deadly blow, she could not let go of the sword and run since this would cause here to die at someone elses hands and she could neither pull her sword loose of his shield, or pull the muscular general out of his saddle, the only thing she could do was stand and watch the deadly sword arise, and then begin the curve that would end at her throat, in the middle of that deadly curve, Rendal appeared, whirling his special battlestaff as usual, but this time he was looking more purposeful than she had ever seen him before. He frowned quickly as if wondering how to save her, she allready new this was impossible as the General had already started swinging his sword towards her. Suddenly Rendals staff blurred past her, at a speed that seemed close to impossible, and missed the sword by a hand, but hitting the hand, had not been Rendals target it seemed, because the sword racing toward her throat suddenly stopped, and was dropped when the hand was janked back by the body which was falling out of the saddle, Sarize had already unknowingly dropped her two handed sword, so she caught the general’s sword in mid air and walked over to the unconscious body of the general, and picked his horn of retreat of his leather belt. The sun showing that only minutes had passed surpised her as she walked the trampled grass over to Rendal and handed him the horn. As Rendal sounded the horn, a harsh schreeching sound spread throughout the battle, and everywhere, the armoured army of the “king of the thieves” was retreating. “Leave them be,” Rendal shouted, “Let the cowardly thieves run, and tell their comrades in arms what awaits them if they plan on attacking us again!” As cheers of victory spread throughout the newmade muddy wasteland, Rendal and Sarize lifted the unconcious general onto his horse, and rendal tied him to it. “We need information.” Rendal said to answer Sarize’s questioning gaze, “I believe this was only a small part of the army the thieves can present in times of need.” Always playing the warrior, Sarize thought to herself, and so young too, too young. She thought sadly, but yet she could not help but admire his ability to stay focused in times of need, espescially at his age.
The cheering soon stopped though, even though this had been a surprisingly easy victory, many had lost their friends, and seeing all the dead and badly hurt, had the effect of removing cheeriness from a human being. Most of the soldiers stood still and made a simple sign of respect to those who passed away, while the others where tending to the wounded and dead lying in the mud.
Rendal however was walking restlessly around and trying to comprehend why the king did not send more soldiers, as he would have heard from the generals on the loosing side that his host was huge.
Perhaps there was a traitor among them…

The end of this part, as of this hour. I cannot guarantee that I will not add more to it later or that I will, so I reccomend that you check in on this blog again if you liked what I have written so far.
Now please make a serious, and long comment.

That’s all for now,

Sincerely,
Ragnar.

"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..

Regards,
Ragnar.

"The ‘Retired’ Assasin" Part 5.

I realize that the spaces of time between my posts has been increasing lately and I’m going to put this straight..
I like blogging, I won’t stop if i can help it, at least not for a while, but somehow the free time needed for blogging has eluded me.
Either I’ve been to tired or to busy or to sick to get myself to sit down in front of my computer and concentrate on writing a post.
I’ve noticed another upside to keeping my blog alive, even when I don’t bother putting any effort into an english assignment I never get grades worse than B+ so needless to say I am quite satisfied by that.
And now (*insert “To the moment you’ve all been waiting for” in a ‘TV voice’ here*) “The ‘Retired’ Assasin Part 5” Will unfold below.

The so called “Beast” vas sitting at a small wooden table in a large tent, the fire in the middle of it was burning low, and because of the retreating darkness it was easy to tell that it was nearing dawn.
The walls of the tent were made of thick special treated leather and bands of color spiraled upwards to the top of the tent, where smoke flew slowly into the air through a medium sized whole.
“The Beast” smashed his gloved fist into the wooden table so hard that the ground trembled, “We have to press on, or our men will loose faith, you heard them didn’t you? They are practically begging for more blood, more land, more coin to spend, more of everything!”
He said loudly, to the woman sitting on the far side of the table.
He sat in a chair, weakly built at first sight, but when you looked closer you could see muscles bulging under the clothes that covered the slim body.
He was young, had short ruffled brown hair, blue eyes and a slim face and thin nose.
His jaw was clenched so tight that his teeth aced, and the two spots where his muscles where bulging formed an irregullarity in his otherwise almost perfectly formed face.
The woman sitting in the only other chair in the tent, at the far side of the table, was also quite young, a bit older than the man she was now staring intently at, and was slimly built.
She had long ravenblack hair, perfectly green eyes, a bulky nose, looking as if it had been broken a couple of times, numerous scars covering her face, and a set of slightly irregular and pointed teeth.
She closed her eyes for a moment, then frowned and said.
“It’s okay for them to press on, they see you as an unstoppable beast invurnerable to harm, even though the losses have been minimal men have still died, but they don’t seem to notice.”
She paused as if considering what to say next, slowly opened her mouth and said “Its a mob being led behind the light, and I’m sorry but its your fault, I mean, they’ve seen nothing but victories since we’ve come into the lands of the thieves, and we both know, most men get overly bold after such events.”
The face of the woman took on a smug look, just as she looked down into the table to hide a smile.
She had won this discussion she knew, oh he might argue a bit more but with that one devastating argument she had crushed his in one verbal blow. “This is getting harder and harder.. ” She thought, “Maybe next time I won’t be able to talk him out of the stupidity.”
“But… Eh.” The young man said, with a frustrated look covering his face, No not again. He thought, he was on the verge of yelling “Words, come to me!” but as ever, he did not.
“Oh come on Rendal..” The woman said calmly, her voice cool, with the hint of something else, somethign soft hidden within, her face the perfect picture of serenity, “Obviously you can see the sense in what I’m saying here, and of course, you didn’t make me your second in command for nothing did you? The council said we should stop here and defend what we’ve allready conquered. And not only that, until now the king of these thieves has until now considered us nothing but a minor band of raiders, if we press on, we are destined to meet an army we cannot defeat, and what will your men do then, surrender? We both know the answer to that….”
“A death in battle is an honorable death.” The young man called Rendal said stubbornly.
“What good does honor do you, when you’re dead?” The woman asked.
Rendal had no answer so he kept his mouth shut eyes down in embarrasment.
The woman thought he looked childlike when he was embarassed but got no time to consider it more because just then, faint horns could be heard in the distance, even the louder of the drums could be heard faintly.
As they both knew, these were the sounds of war.
“It appears you were wrong Sarize, the king has allready noticed us for what we are..” Rendal said, his face had already set in stony look, as if he had no human emotion.
“Always have a back-up plan, always..” Rendal thought as he strode out of the tent.

"The ‘Retired’ Assasin" Part 4.

This is Part four of the story I have chosen to temporarily call “The ‘Retired’ Assasin”, ultimately that will be the name of the first chapter, but until I find another title for the story, it will remain named “The ‘Retired’ assasin”.
“The ‘retired’ assasin” Part 1 link.
“The ‘retired’ assasin” Part 2 link.

“The ‘retired’ assasin” Part 3 link.

At this time the so called “Beast” was ravaging large parts of Rolega, one of the “Civilized States”, it was rumoured that this was one of the huge barbarians that were living north of the border, and given the fact that Rolega was indeed the Civilized state placed north of all the others, that he drank blood and dressed in skin from the creatures he slay, be it man or bear or wolf.
The facts in this matter was of course incredibly different from what the rumours would have told as true, and as the “Beast ” progressed further and further south, the word got out that he was little more than a boy, and a fair one at that.
When people learned that “The beast” was youn, fair and seemingly unstoppable in battle, somehow the word spread that he was a lost prince, fighting his way to his rightful throne.
Matters only turned worse when the king forbid even speaking of “This little youngster who calls himself ‘the beast’ “.
The word spread to every little city or town in all of Rolega, and discussions about him were to be found in every tavern or inn.
Little did the king know at the time, that only his enemies called him “the beast” due to his wild ferocity in battle, that he wore only a chainmail chestguard and a bearskin cloak with the head left intact and that the loosing side of a battle always needed some kind of excuse for their loss, espescially when the odds had been on their side.
Allthough “the beast” was ferocious in battle, he was also rightful so that he always helped the wounded, treated the prisoners well, and avoided killing, capturing or harming unarmed women and harmless children if possible.

©Copyright 2006 Ragnar, The owner of This blog.

The retired assasin Part 3

I’ve been very tired lately.
So I’ve not had the energy to sit down, and write something over a long period of time.
I’ve been having friends over a lot too, so…

“The ‘retired’ assasin” Part 1 link.

“The ‘retired’ assasin” Part 2 link.

The Retired assasin was now watching the large man closely.
He thought “Thats not how you really look fella..” , he just knew that the man he saw was an illusion, there could be no other reason for the guys with the “orders” to pay him a visit.
He decided that it had to be someone he knew or once had known, and as he did the illusion was no longer what his eyes saw.
His eyes was now studying the confusing process of the illusion’s self destruction, at first, it switched back and forth between what the object/person really looked like faster and faster, and when it started to switch back and forth so fast that you could only see a blur, then the blur turned back into the illusion and it gradually retreated, revealing what was meant to be hidden by the illusion, quite slowly.
As expected the former assasin now had his eyes on a more slim and taller person.
“Why are you here Frindel?” The assasin asked loudly while he was trying to figure out just that.
“I…” The man named Frindel said.
“You were not supposed to pay me a visit unless you were in some kind of emergency?” The assasin asked angrily.
“We need you back in the old town.. The whole shit is about to be controlled by Shadow Slayers..
If we don’t do anything soon, the place will be lost. Do you want mad priests controlling your birth place?”
Frindel answered in a voice tinged by irritation.
“The old town was never really important to you now was it?” The assasin asked.
“It always was, its just that I wasn’t as passionate about building things as you were Telizer. And besides, most of my few remaining friends are stuck there.” Frindel said.
The former assasin named Telizer walked closer to the ruins of his door.
“And what makes you think that I want to help?” Telizer asked as he stopped nearly 1 foot from the ruins of the door..
“You want to help because the old town is still important to you, if not that, I got a bag of gold from the rest of the resistance.” Frindel said as he rattled the bag hanging from his belt.
Telizer looked seemingly uninterested at the bag of gold, and said.
“What would you have me do for the bag o’ gold?”
“Simply lead the mob of people that are against the mad priests in skirmishes and the like.” Frindel said.
Telizer looked incredolously at Frindel, and burst out.
“You want an untrained old man without any experience to lead your forces to battle?”
“Its not what you are that matters, it is what the enemy and your mob thinks you are, to lay it out pretty simple, they won’t be looking at this old shell.” Frindel said with a wicked smile.
Telizer gaped at Frindel as he realized what his one time friend was planning…
He realized that he never should have trusted the man with his whereabouts, or anyone else for that matter, soon everybody he’d once known would bloody well be standing at his doorstep demanding favors.
Telizer turned around looked Frindel straight into his green eyes and said,
“I can’t say I like your idea but it might work, and since the ol’ place s’ at stake, I’ll play along for a little while.”
He cast one last look towards the pitifully skinny man lying inside his damaged hut, and walked outside.
“If we need to get there quickly, I know just the trick”
Telizer said smiling, his eyes shining like diamonds in the sun, as he stood on the grassy ground outside his doorstep.

© Copyright Ragnar, The owner of this blog, 2006

"The ‘retired’ assasin" Part 2.

I mentioned in my last post that my creativity was back, and this is one of the many results as a cause of that.
“The ‘retired’ assasin” Part 1 link
“The ‘retired’ assasin” Part 2.

The assasin looked at the large, well-built man standing in front of the splinters left of his door.
He quickly twirled his knives and hid them in his sleeves with amazing speed.
“King, me?” He said incredolously and laughed.
“I can barely afford to live in this simple hut, or do they by any chance call this a palace where you’re from?”
He continued slowly in a farmer’s accent.
The large man burst out in laughter.
“Not that kind of king, for quite a long period a time, a little while ago, you were known as ‘The king of Shadows’ but the fact that we found you hidden here, tells me that you were not worthy of such a glorious title.” The large man said, eyening the sleeves of the retired assasin briefly.
“Another assasin” the retired assasin thought, “Here out of jealousy perhaps”..
“I still don’t understand what you are talking of, if you are in requirement of an assasin’s services I suggest you get out of here now, and quickly, because there ain’t no man living in these woods that are gonna give you that.” He said, in a different accent this time, something more of a minor merchant from a city.
The tall sinewy thin man that had stood completely still for such a long time, strode quickly into the room and said.
“We do not need or require anything from you.. We are here for other matters, we have brought you orders.”
The former assasin, eyed the thin man wearily, he realized quickly that he was the leader of the two, because he was the one with the most expencive clothes and weapons.
“What orders and from whom?”
The retired assasin whispered fiercely to the man with the orders.

“The orders are from the king, of what matter they are, I do not know, nor do I mind being kept ignorant..
I’m only supposed to give you these bloody orders, escort you to Frinleod’s castle and forget it ever happened.”

He said as he handed over the roll of parchment to the former assasin.
“I do not need orders good sir, nor will obey them when I get them.. I am a free man, not one of the king’s slaves.”
The former assasin said loudly.
“Well, I’m afraid you have to, if you do not follow us willingly, we are ordered to bring you forth by force, or kill you in the process ?”
The thin man said threateningly.
The assasin decided to read his orders before doing anything rash.

Hello Trizor, Its been a long time, and I need one last favor of you, I know you never really wanted to be an assasin and all that, and I also know that of the 150 you are supposed to have killed, only 10 were relieved of the burden of life by your hands.
You always wanted to lead an army, you were never a coward, so what I’m prepared to offer you my old friend, is a place as one of my generals and a new identity.

Zertain,
Lord of the seas, and King of the east.

The retired assasin that had been prepared to kill the visitors, was now unsure what to do.
“A real king wouldn’t write something as simple as that in a formal letter” he thought.
“Zertain is KING now? When did the old man die?”
The former assasin asked, trying his best to sound shocked and convinced.
“Not even a month ago, I’m not surprised that you’ve not heard it yet, considering this shithole you’re living in.” The large man said.
“When do we leave?” the former assasin asked eagerly.
The thin sinewy man strode against the former assasin who seemingly was not the least afraid of the man who was closing in on him.
The former assasin punched the thin man in the nose so fast that his hand blurred.
As the man collapsed into a heap on the floor, the last thing he heard before falling into unconsciousness was “Almost too easy old fella..”.




End part 2 The retired assasin..
Regards,
The President of UPD
(United Posts of Dust on a dusty road.)

"The ‘Retired’ Assasin" Part 1

An owl hooted, as the sound of steps neared a small clearing, in the midst of a dense oak forest.
The clearing was about 20 paces accros, and formed in an almost perfect circle.
The clearing was floored with grass, and the only tree was standing almost in the middle, to the left of a small house.
The house was made out of solid wood, was unpainted, only one floor tall, had 2 small windows, and a massive front door.
The house was what in those days were called, a forester’s hut, it was a simple building, where men or women could live in pact with nature, and live on the fruits given by mother earth’s generousity.
But, this perticular hut, was not the home of such a peaceful creature.
This was the home, of one of the most wanted men in the history of crime, the master of assasination, now retired, with a name, only his closest friends knew, all others, feared and knew him as, the king of shadows.

He had once speacialized in sneaking up behind his victims, pricking them on the arm with the point of his knife, and when they turned around, almost immediately, he cut their throats, because stabbing people in the back, was a cowards way out, and besides, he had once liked being showered in the warm blood.
The man who lived there, did not look anything like the assasin he had once been, he was almost skinny, tall, had long limbs looking like thin branches, rough brown hair, and green eyes.
He sat in a chair, in the combined kitchen and living room, and appeard to read a book that lay upon the decorated table, in the otherwise plain room.
There was a book shelf with a few but large books in it, an old fireplace made out of some grey stone that was full of cracks, and a decorated work table, where he prepared food for cooking, and carved different wooden items, if the weather was bad.
The sound of steps was nearing now, he had known someone was coming for quite a long time, and he was prepared for them, whatever their business with him might be.
He saw two shadows passing his small window, and thought “I’m not that old, I can still handle two, if need be.” The steps continued, and then stopped, before a rapid set of knocks on the door broke the silence.
The assasin had always thought letting people knock themselves bored on the door, and seing what they did next, was a good idea, because opening the door to the wrong sort of people could get you hurt, or worse.
“Better cautious than scarred” he whispered silently to himself, as another set of knocks, louder this time, interrupted the soothing silence.
If these people were of the right sort, he wouldn’t hear more knocks, then he would open the door, and yell them back, but if they were of the wrong sort, they would probably knock down the door.

CHUNK!

The axe he used for cutting wood was now stuck through the door, and the men standing outside was trying to kick in what was left of it.
When the door finally gave way, the former assasin was wielding two, razor sharp, curved and generously decorated blades, forged of the finest steel.
“Well KING, we meet at last..” A cloaked man said in a sarcastic voice to the former assasin.


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