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  1. #1
    Senior Member
    Join Date
    Nov 2007

    The Furtive ~ Iron Knot

    Wow, DD actually has a section for this. =)

    The moonlight glimmered on the knight's shining, impenetrable armor. The branches cut and marked it, but it was glimmering nonetheless. Blood could be found on the knight's left shoulder, which spurted out from a gaping hole the size of a blade. Grasping the bleeding shoulder with his right arm, the knight hastily cast his gaze behind him. Terror had completely distorted his face. The worst part of the grotesque face were the eyes, which were balled up in a mixture of tears, sweat, and blood. Mark decided it was time to end the knight's life, as he loathed making his victims suffer. If I'm going to be an assassin, I'll need to be completely devoid of emotion, he kept telling himself. Regardless, he wouldn't let a victim suffer.

    So, with a quick maneuver of his hand, swung his sword horizontally, and decapitated the knight.

    Mark had to dispose of the body, and quickly, for it would not be long until the other knights went searching for their fallen comrade. He gathered the head, and hurtled it into a nearby stream. Hopefully it'll wash up in Capitol City, thought Mark, then that mediocre king will know that The Furtive mean business.

    Unable to lift the body, for it was weighted down with armor, Mark dug a shallow grave, using only Magic. He then heaved with all his might, and dropped the corpse into the hole, sealing it up afterward.

    If I make it back before sunrise I'll get the full pay of the contract, Mark thought. It was true, members of The Furtive had to find the target, eliminate it in the way defined by the contract, and return to the headquarters before the assigned time was up. It was a difficult profession, but they only selected the best. And Mark was among them.

    Running as fast as his legs could bare, Mark seemed to glide through the woods, the beauty of the seen enhanced by the moonlight. Not a stain on his armor, not that he wore any. All the members of The Furtive must wear regular clothes on missions, so as not to be distinguished in a crowd. The last member who had disobeyed one rule, and there are a lot of rules, was carried to the Dark Room, and never heard from again. Not a sound came from the Dark Room that night, only when the man was on the outside did the other members hear his wails of terror.

    "No! Not the Dark Room! Anything! Please, have mercy! I'd rather DIE than go in there!" the members heard, and then everything went silent.

    Mark continued to run away from the burial site. Trees flying past him, in less than an hour, he burst out of the trees into a clearing. The clearing was nothing but trees surrounding a vast circle, and a well in the dead center.

    The well was a beautiful cobblestone portrait of the history that took place where it now stands. Long ago, before the first king had ever ruled the land, there was a maiden, by the name of Andromeda. Her face was perfect. Her skin was as smooth as marble. Her personality was kind, caring, and responsible. She was so fair, so helplessly beautiful, everyone wanted her as a bride. Except, of course, the other ladies. Fury and envy combined drove the maidens to insanity.

    One night, a full moon night, all of the maidens in the neighboring village had gathered up, each one holding a knife in one hand. The traveled to the not-so-far-away clearing, were Andromeda would spend her evenings lying down in the center, stargazing. The dead center. She could here the maidens approaching, and yet, felt no danger, as she was unaware of their intent.

    The maidens suddenly rushed out of the forest, making no attempt to disguise their hatred. Andromeda sat up, fear rushing through her veins. As soon as she could make out each and every face, it had been too late. The maidens had tied her down with rope and stakes, bounding her every limb. One by one, the maidens took turns stabbing Andromeda in various places, always aiming away from the heart. After all of the maidens had taken their turn, they waited. Waited, while Andromeda was bleeding, bleeding like mad. After the maidens could bare no more of Andromeda's wails, they stabbed her in the heart.

    To this day, her one and only son, the leader of The Furtive, has looked for and killed all of the maidens responsible for his mother's torture. He built a well, and polished it daily in her memory.

    So there Mark was, not a foot away from the well. He stuck his head down there, closed his eyes, and fell down. He wasn't able to open his eyes again until some water was splashed on his face.

    "So, how'd the mission go, newbie?" Asked Vance, Mark's Master. Every recruit had a Master, who was their adviser on contracts, teacher, and the like.

    "I-i-it was f-f-fine, I e-escaped without n-n-notice," replied Mark, still recovering from the sudden impact of ice cold water against his face.

    And I know I need to work on my brevity with the details.
    Suggestions would be appreciated.

  2. #2
    Regular Member
    Join Date
    Jun 2008
    What's it to you?

    Re: The Furtive ~ Iron Knot

    Nice, long story...it kept the suspense at a good level and kept me wanting to read.
    Keep it up!
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