The Slayer
The following part is based on a character I created while writing my first fanfiction and to be honest I could never leave that character to be forgotten, so here is a story about him with better writing.
Updates will be frequent for this story.
The Slayer:
The burning heavens watched down as they unknowingly cast their heat at those of the Witchwood Arena. A total of five thousand people had come from every corner of Albion for the final days of Saliek the Balverine slayer in the Arena. The young Arab had an extensive and impressive life in Albion but he had finally finished his research of his fabled ancestor ‘Faustus’.
He’d first been thrown in to the Arena sands against criminals, he’d been nicknamed ‘The Executioner ’ by the announcer due to his past days as a assassin, but soon came to be loved by the Arena’s crowd as the only name they could create ‘Saliek’ such a name the Arab thought, the people stupid, uneducated, but soon he came to love them and his new name.
Faster and harder opponents where tossed at the young swordsman, and they all tasted the foul end of his deadly blades. The young boy was first treated like a slave given rusted weapons and clothe that was meant to protect him, it did not. Eventually the crowd demanded Salieks freedom the Arab took it, and with freedom he left the Arena his home since he was taken captive there.
Free once again he’d missed it, surely killing innocents for money was a mistake it given him a bad reputation but he shook this idea off always, his killings had led him to the Arena a place were it seemed more like home than anywhere else, everywhere else seemed soulless.
During his two years he spend most of that time in the wild, he found one creature in the wild forests of Witchwood, these particular creatures made his blood boil from excitement ‘Balverines’ these fearsome beasts were black, furred, like the wolves from the forests to the east of Albion.
But they stood upright like men powerful as dogs and nimble as cats, he killed many of them. He became so engrossed in them that he learned their way of life more so than human life, people fear them, Saliek learned a obvious but overlooked quality that the wolves had ‘they never attack once they’ve fed’ and why would they? Their animals after all, leave them alone they leave you alone, provoke them and fight for your life.
The end of his two years out of the Arena, he met two of these Balverines one was black and greying, another was pure white “Glorious” he spoke softly as he stalked them. Such Beauty they have, truly a gift from what god is unknown.
The two beasts seen him and run at him to inspect the small intruder, Saliek looked at the white one as it looked back at him, its hair is so thick, its skin strong as steel, he’d broken many weapons trying to kill these two, their muscles flexing constantly.
Stronger than any barbarian you’d ever have the misfortune to see. The black one its eyes were yellow, piercing, the vision that these creatures possessed was Salieks dream, yet he knew the most he could have from these beasts as a trophy were their skins. Their nails sharp, edged thick as timber, Saliek looked at his blades he had took two short swords named Katana’s from the armoury in the Arena, this time with silver mixed with the steel, it seemed to hurt the wolves more.
The three of them stood in a opening in the forest of Witchwood, Saliek eyed his surroundings trees everywhere and a soft rain beating against the wet mud, you could smell the pine on the soft wind. The Balverines walked forward both to attack at the same time, Saliek readying his feet, his blades. He pulled his damp hood down from his darkly tanned face to get a wider point of view, his armour, if it could be called that, was simple brown leather mixed with bull fur to keep him warm.
The black beast kicked its legs to jump, Saliek seeing it then breaking with unnatural speed for a human, twisted and jumped rolling to the wet dirty ground, just missing the full blow of the wolf his feet got knocked by the fast wolf in the haste, it caused him to land face first in the mud.
He jumped to his feet before the wolf knew what had happened, he looked at it laying down for barely a second then broke in a sprint for the giant white Balverine, it looked at its mate on the floor and seen Saliek, in mid air with his swords facing downwards aimed for the beasts chest.
The giant swiped out with its claws but it was to late, Saliek landed on the Balverine with the swords dug deep into the wolfs chest it howled in pain, Saliek got Goosebumps from the loud pain filled cry his hairs stood on end, Saliek slightly moaning also it had cut his back the nails went in deep.
Both of them lie on the floor, the black one was at its feet once again. Saliek grabbed the tree they nearly crashed into and then grabbing the branches to lift himself, Saliek unsheathed another sword a rare one that he used only when necessary, it wasn’t at all silver but could make up for Balverine poison in its dangerous pointed edges.
The Arab ran at the black creature then stopping with lighting footwork sliding with the mud, and spinning in a 360’ angle slicing at the balverines throat as he spun, it fell to the floor with blood pouring from its neck. The giant still on the ground, the silver swords had worked and gone deeper than expected.
Saliek looked at them both and sighed he walked over to the white giant whom was stuck to the ground it didn’t even move when it seen Saliek. It looked at him with those bright yet darkly orange eyes, Saliek knew it was smart enough to understand what was going to happen, the beast looked at Saliek in the most calm way a Balverine had ever been seen, peaceful, the Arab dug is jagged blade into its head giving it the rest it deserved. These two had fought bravely for many weeks, bless their cursed spirits thought the slayer.
On from then Saliek wore the black Balverines skins as a sign of love and compassion for the beasts, and the great white Balverine, dismembering her was the hardest thing Saliek had ever had to do. But it was worth it, wearing the bones and skins of monsters says a lot, about a man mainly "I’m not to be f*ck*d with" but other words can be proclaimed.
The Arab certainly earned a mean reputation from killing and knowing Balverines, wearing the bones and red chain mail in battle he looked like a skinless white Balverine it send everyone running in fear from the demon encased in bone.
For ten years he has lived and fought in the Arena, thirty years of age now and he leaves us, this is his last battle among Albion. Down at the centre of the ring stood the immortalised speed demon Saliek, fighting a different opponent for once, a earth Troll.
The barbaric green and brown brute tossing clumps of sand at the small fighter, who dodged them mostly, Saliek stood there in the centre reaching for an arrow from his back to load into his short bow he’d been sending arrows whizzing for all morning. Swords blurring the sight of his enemies and his feet dancing like a madman of war send the crowd in constant roar.
He hated magic apart from the few spells he trusted, but aside from his own, he despised magic and that’s exactly what these Trolls are, shadow magic keeping an element together, keeping it alive. Saliek wore his Bone armour, the skull fixed on his head, the ribs, the spine, everything and where bones couldn’t fit, red chain mail making him look like bone and muscle, horrifying even to a Troll.
Running, attacking, defending, every movement was a dance of death, with no waste of energy every time he moved his blade blood spilt, twirling weapons, blood flying, the speed demon was his favourite title and he truly did deserve it. The man could reach you before you blinked.
Without the magic he’s divinely skilled with a blade, and his feet, but with it he is Skorms champion nothing is left breathing, he bathes in the blood of his targets as he cuts them down.
The Crowds noise was beyond deafening no wonder heroes fear coming here, only a select few can withstand the thunderous roars of the crowd, Saliek is one of the few who gets better as the crowd gets louder.
His feet never stop, running up to the troll he rolled from an oncoming bolder hurled by the Troll. Then letting loose a stream of arrows at the fat thing, the arrows went straight into the monsters stomach, and when it tries to block the arrows they go to its hairy arms. The Troll was full of arrows. Saliek with no more arrows tires of long range combat, and goes in for the kill, he furiously dashed at the Troll.
Coming close the Troll punched out at tiny Saliek, only to find that he ran up its arm, the Troll begins to panic, Saliek gripping onto the arrows lodged into its back, while removing a old friend from his back hilt “Vipers Fang” a true meaning of the word legendary weapon. The sword handle is a black snakes head with the eyes being blue gems the snakes hood was the hand guard, the blade ridged, jagged, deadly.
He held on to the neck of the Troll and jumped to the giants face, while stabbing and slashing madly at its chest, it bled, it cried, and Saliek laughed at the monsters cries. The Slayer pushed himself off the beast with the compact power of his legs, sending the Troll stumbling, it gathered its feet and charged at Saliek. The Arab jumped up and landed on the sand hard signalling and taunting the dumb thing to come faster, it didn’t like it,the earth Troll began screeching.
It came to contact with the slayer, but Saliek darted behind the monsters legs slicing at its knees, it fell to one knee, while the Arab run at it from behind, sprinting up its back and jumping from its head in mid air turning to face the beast and deliver his blade to its skull, The blade cracked and sawed through the beasts head, it fell dead to the floor....
-----------------------
Comments would be lovely :wub: and yes this is a story not a short story
Remember I have a website, read my blog for updates, I have a tonne of fiction on there.
So feel free to check it out the links in my sig.
Bu what do you all think of Saliek? :blush:
Hermit
The following part is based on a character I created while writing my first fanfiction and to be honest I could never leave that character to be forgotten, so here is a story about him with better writing.
Updates will be frequent for this story.
The Slayer:
The burning heavens watched down as they unknowingly cast their heat at those of the Witchwood Arena. A total of five thousand people had come from every corner of Albion for the final days of Saliek the Balverine slayer in the Arena. The young Arab had an extensive and impressive life in Albion but he had finally finished his research of his fabled ancestor ‘Faustus’.
He’d first been thrown in to the Arena sands against criminals, he’d been nicknamed ‘The Executioner ’ by the announcer due to his past days as a assassin, but soon came to be loved by the Arena’s crowd as the only name they could create ‘Saliek’ such a name the Arab thought, the people stupid, uneducated, but soon he came to love them and his new name.
Faster and harder opponents where tossed at the young swordsman, and they all tasted the foul end of his deadly blades. The young boy was first treated like a slave given rusted weapons and clothe that was meant to protect him, it did not. Eventually the crowd demanded Salieks freedom the Arab took it, and with freedom he left the Arena his home since he was taken captive there.
Free once again he’d missed it, surely killing innocents for money was a mistake it given him a bad reputation but he shook this idea off always, his killings had led him to the Arena a place were it seemed more like home than anywhere else, everywhere else seemed soulless.
During his two years he spend most of that time in the wild, he found one creature in the wild forests of Witchwood, these particular creatures made his blood boil from excitement ‘Balverines’ these fearsome beasts were black, furred, like the wolves from the forests to the east of Albion.
But they stood upright like men powerful as dogs and nimble as cats, he killed many of them. He became so engrossed in them that he learned their way of life more so than human life, people fear them, Saliek learned a obvious but overlooked quality that the wolves had ‘they never attack once they’ve fed’ and why would they? Their animals after all, leave them alone they leave you alone, provoke them and fight for your life.
The end of his two years out of the Arena, he met two of these Balverines one was black and greying, another was pure white “Glorious” he spoke softly as he stalked them. Such Beauty they have, truly a gift from what god is unknown.
The two beasts seen him and run at him to inspect the small intruder, Saliek looked at the white one as it looked back at him, its hair is so thick, its skin strong as steel, he’d broken many weapons trying to kill these two, their muscles flexing constantly.
Stronger than any barbarian you’d ever have the misfortune to see. The black one its eyes were yellow, piercing, the vision that these creatures possessed was Salieks dream, yet he knew the most he could have from these beasts as a trophy were their skins. Their nails sharp, edged thick as timber, Saliek looked at his blades he had took two short swords named Katana’s from the armoury in the Arena, this time with silver mixed with the steel, it seemed to hurt the wolves more.
The three of them stood in a opening in the forest of Witchwood, Saliek eyed his surroundings trees everywhere and a soft rain beating against the wet mud, you could smell the pine on the soft wind. The Balverines walked forward both to attack at the same time, Saliek readying his feet, his blades. He pulled his damp hood down from his darkly tanned face to get a wider point of view, his armour, if it could be called that, was simple brown leather mixed with bull fur to keep him warm.
The black beast kicked its legs to jump, Saliek seeing it then breaking with unnatural speed for a human, twisted and jumped rolling to the wet dirty ground, just missing the full blow of the wolf his feet got knocked by the fast wolf in the haste, it caused him to land face first in the mud.
He jumped to his feet before the wolf knew what had happened, he looked at it laying down for barely a second then broke in a sprint for the giant white Balverine, it looked at its mate on the floor and seen Saliek, in mid air with his swords facing downwards aimed for the beasts chest.
The giant swiped out with its claws but it was to late, Saliek landed on the Balverine with the swords dug deep into the wolfs chest it howled in pain, Saliek got Goosebumps from the loud pain filled cry his hairs stood on end, Saliek slightly moaning also it had cut his back the nails went in deep.
Both of them lie on the floor, the black one was at its feet once again. Saliek grabbed the tree they nearly crashed into and then grabbing the branches to lift himself, Saliek unsheathed another sword a rare one that he used only when necessary, it wasn’t at all silver but could make up for Balverine poison in its dangerous pointed edges.
The Arab ran at the black creature then stopping with lighting footwork sliding with the mud, and spinning in a 360’ angle slicing at the balverines throat as he spun, it fell to the floor with blood pouring from its neck. The giant still on the ground, the silver swords had worked and gone deeper than expected.
Saliek looked at them both and sighed he walked over to the white giant whom was stuck to the ground it didn’t even move when it seen Saliek. It looked at him with those bright yet darkly orange eyes, Saliek knew it was smart enough to understand what was going to happen, the beast looked at Saliek in the most calm way a Balverine had ever been seen, peaceful, the Arab dug is jagged blade into its head giving it the rest it deserved. These two had fought bravely for many weeks, bless their cursed spirits thought the slayer.
On from then Saliek wore the black Balverines skins as a sign of love and compassion for the beasts, and the great white Balverine, dismembering her was the hardest thing Saliek had ever had to do. But it was worth it, wearing the bones and skins of monsters says a lot, about a man mainly "I’m not to be f*ck*d with" but other words can be proclaimed.
The Arab certainly earned a mean reputation from killing and knowing Balverines, wearing the bones and red chain mail in battle he looked like a skinless white Balverine it send everyone running in fear from the demon encased in bone.
For ten years he has lived and fought in the Arena, thirty years of age now and he leaves us, this is his last battle among Albion. Down at the centre of the ring stood the immortalised speed demon Saliek, fighting a different opponent for once, a earth Troll.
The barbaric green and brown brute tossing clumps of sand at the small fighter, who dodged them mostly, Saliek stood there in the centre reaching for an arrow from his back to load into his short bow he’d been sending arrows whizzing for all morning. Swords blurring the sight of his enemies and his feet dancing like a madman of war send the crowd in constant roar.
He hated magic apart from the few spells he trusted, but aside from his own, he despised magic and that’s exactly what these Trolls are, shadow magic keeping an element together, keeping it alive. Saliek wore his Bone armour, the skull fixed on his head, the ribs, the spine, everything and where bones couldn’t fit, red chain mail making him look like bone and muscle, horrifying even to a Troll.
Running, attacking, defending, every movement was a dance of death, with no waste of energy every time he moved his blade blood spilt, twirling weapons, blood flying, the speed demon was his favourite title and he truly did deserve it. The man could reach you before you blinked.
Without the magic he’s divinely skilled with a blade, and his feet, but with it he is Skorms champion nothing is left breathing, he bathes in the blood of his targets as he cuts them down.
The Crowds noise was beyond deafening no wonder heroes fear coming here, only a select few can withstand the thunderous roars of the crowd, Saliek is one of the few who gets better as the crowd gets louder.
His feet never stop, running up to the troll he rolled from an oncoming bolder hurled by the Troll. Then letting loose a stream of arrows at the fat thing, the arrows went straight into the monsters stomach, and when it tries to block the arrows they go to its hairy arms. The Troll was full of arrows. Saliek with no more arrows tires of long range combat, and goes in for the kill, he furiously dashed at the Troll.
Coming close the Troll punched out at tiny Saliek, only to find that he ran up its arm, the Troll begins to panic, Saliek gripping onto the arrows lodged into its back, while removing a old friend from his back hilt “Vipers Fang” a true meaning of the word legendary weapon. The sword handle is a black snakes head with the eyes being blue gems the snakes hood was the hand guard, the blade ridged, jagged, deadly.
He held on to the neck of the Troll and jumped to the giants face, while stabbing and slashing madly at its chest, it bled, it cried, and Saliek laughed at the monsters cries. The Slayer pushed himself off the beast with the compact power of his legs, sending the Troll stumbling, it gathered its feet and charged at Saliek. The Arab jumped up and landed on the sand hard signalling and taunting the dumb thing to come faster, it didn’t like it,the earth Troll began screeching.
It came to contact with the slayer, but Saliek darted behind the monsters legs slicing at its knees, it fell to one knee, while the Arab run at it from behind, sprinting up its back and jumping from its head in mid air turning to face the beast and deliver his blade to its skull, The blade cracked and sawed through the beasts head, it fell dead to the floor....
-----------------------
Comments would be lovely :wub: and yes this is a story not a short story
Remember I have a website, read my blog for updates, I have a tonne of fiction on there.
So feel free to check it out the links in my sig.
Bu what do you all think of Saliek? :blush:
Hermit
