Re: KaW Fan Fiction Superthread (The Story Index)
Prologue?
"No life is without meaning." A large burly man rose from a high throne. He stood at an incredible 6'10". A long royal blue cape flapped as a breeze came through the newly shattered window. The king could feel the heat of the homes below the window as they quickly burned to a charred mass of rubble. Looking across the throne room at his adversary.
"Give me the blade. Perhaps I will allow you to live." The tall man across the room demanded. He looked quite intimidating. With his long sweeping red cloak, black metal mask covering everything but his eyes, and a long curved blade at his side. The most intimidating thing however, was the forty soldiers behind him. Several on horses, many wielding long lances, and one man was even carrying a pitchfork. They couldn't all be professional soldiers. But that didn't matter much.
"So soon to the point? Why don't you sit yourself? We can have a brilliant chat."
"Garth. The blade. Now." a hint of irritation was edging into the masked man.
"Ah! You know my name. May I ask for yours?" King Garth smiled at the army arrayed before him.
"it won't matter. You won't live long enough to use it."
"Haha! I'll just call you...Corandthar. You look like a Corandthar to me."
The masked man, apparently named Corandthar, took a few steps forward and raised his blade. "hold." a single whisper of a word was heard throughout the room. The soldiers parted, making way for a tall thick man. He was wearing a blood red robe with tiger claws on a chain going across his chest. He carried a large menacing lance with a dark satin ribbon tied around the point end. Coranthar bowed to the man as he approached, the quickly joined the group of soldiers, tucking his blade into a black sheath at his side.
Smiling broadly King Garth welcomed the new visitor warmly. "Hello general Voltaire. You have come to kill me?"
Stepping up to the throne Voltaire raised his lance. "No. I have come for your son."
Garth suddenly became solemn. "He is gone Voltaire. You think I would leave my child here? He has left with what soldiers I could muster.." Drawing his sword slowly he stared into Voltaires eyes, into his very soul. A fire burning within. Through the open doors to the throne room rode eight cavaliers. Their spears causing immediate damage to the army amassed. Voltaire turned to see the commotion. As he turned King Garth came behind him and plunged his sword into Voltaire's back. Or it would have had it not been stopped by an invisible force right before reaching skin.
"Sorry friend." Voltaire turned back to King Garth and raised his lance, a wicked gleam in his eyes.
