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Thar

Game of Forums (PG-16+)

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Plot: In a forum ruled by one admin, there are many who seek such a position, be it for power, riches, land, corruption, or justice. All the same, the Game of Forums plays on.

 

Rules:

 

-Forum rules apply.

-Creative Writing section rules apply.

-Do not ask to be in the fic.

-If you are a part of the fic but are not satisfied with your character, PM me. Do not post personal complaints in the thread.

-Do not ask when the next installment will be posted. Resort to PM or other places where it is not considered spam.

 

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[spoiler=Prologue - The Fate of the Watcher *608 words*]The dark and murky Wood of Exilium was shrouded in mist, whispering chants amongst the crippled trees which surrounded YCMaker, so-called the Watcher of YCM. He was stripped, and his naked flesh was decorated with lashes and bruises, all for which his sweat seeped into to add to the pain. Strapped to a hunched, kneeled position with ropes that were staked to the ground, he kept his head down with his eyes focused on the bug-infested soil beneath him.

 
“You savages…” he groaned between heavy breaths, “I am the Watcher of YCM! I rule this nation!”
 
There was only silence. He struggled to pull out the stakes that held his constraints, but only in vain. His teeth gritted hard enough to potentially crack them, and every vein in his body seemed to pop out with every amount of effort he put in.
 
“Don’t struggle,” an echoing voice rang throughout the woods, sending an ice-cold shiver down YCMaker’s spine, “and don’t speak. You will disturb the demons that lurk in these woods.”
 
“What makes you think you’re not a demon yourself?” YCMaker spat, still breathing heavily with eyes aflame.
 
“I tell you this because I am among the numbers,” the voice responded, “but I am the most forgiving, as I am generous enough to warn you.”
 
“Hmph!” YCMaker spat again, this time literally, “You sound familiar, like someone that has been exiled from my kingdom,” he looked around, getting a sense of the area, “this forest… is this where the exiled go?”
 
“The exiled, the exterminated…” the voice lingered on the thought, “...whether alive or dead, all who enter here, be it by fate or choice, are damned.”
 
“Exterminated…” YCMaker pondered, suddenly twitching in fear, “...No...no, it can’t be!” The fog stirred up like a hurricane. YCMaker braced as well as he could as a tall, feminine figure formed in front of him. She appeared as a silhouette with glowing red eyes, her long hair dancing in the harsh winds, which settled as her eyes were glued to YCMaker’s naked, kneeling body as he slowly looked up.
 
“Hello, sweetheart.”
 
“Crab Helmet…” YCMaker was shaking, and almost breathless from panicking, “...you’re…”
 
“Alive? Far from it, I’m afraid, yet somehow I’ve never felt more so.” Her voice was clearer and more delicate than before, but just as bitter. Her arm reached behind her head as she pulled out a blade, holding it at a downward angle with her arm locked straight.
 
“Wait, Crab Helmet, listen to me!” YCMaker cried, “I’m sorry! I did wrong and I was wrong to send you away! My kingship was at stake, and I had no other choice! Please understand!”
 
“Understand?” In an instant, Crab Helmet was inches away from YCMaker’s face in a knelt position with her blade practically touching his neck. She glared into his eyes as he began violently shaking with broken, panicked breaths, “You’re the one who needs to understand. I was to be your only wife, and you tossed me aside. I was NOT going to be insignificant to you. I could’ve been a good wife to you, YCMaker, but you let your power take me for granted. I cannot forgive that, and I will not draw another empty breath in this world with you ruling it. Your kingship ends now!”
 
“Crab Helmet, wait… I said I was sorr-” The sound of steel slicing through flesh and bone rendered his last statement incomplete as his lifeless body fell to the earth as it absorbed his blood through its soil.
 
“Not even you deserve Hell. Either way, I’ll see you there in chains.” Crab Helmet sheathed her sword, disappearing into the fog.

 
 
 
 
 
 
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Enjoy! Feedback is appreciated.

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I had my phone scrolled so the identity of Crab Helmet was just out of sight as I read up to it, and realized who she was just before seeing the name. Gotta admit, that moment had me hyping hard.

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[spoiler=Prologue]I had my phone scrolled so the identity of Crab Helmet was just out of sight as I read up to it, and realized who she was just before seeing the name. Gotta admit, that moment had me hyping hard.

 

I'm glad. This has me processing the first chapter, which is a good feeling.

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I've gotta admit that the issue with Crab Helmet predates my activity here on the forum, but the reveal still had quite the effect. I really enjoyed the prologue. I think this theme/setting will be interesting to see developed. Can't wait to see more!

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Couldn't have asked for a start that would better set the tone than Crab Helmet doing that.  Looking most forward to seeing how this story progresses.

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Glad y'all enjoyed it. I'll be sure to get the first chapter up soon.

 

EDIT: Let the fun begin:

 

[spoiler=1 - The Wielder of the Greatsword (1079 words)]A guard stood stiff at the top of the corner tower of a wall that guarded the edges of the city of TCG. The view of an endless snowy horizon blistered his eyes as the blizzard from a yonder assaulted the steel armor which absorbed the cold only to sting the flesh beneath him, despite the layer of clothing that he wore between them. However, as a guard serving under the lord, he stood motionless, letting the environment bash against him like a stone wall, such as what was guarding the city.

 
“I am one with the wall…” he muttered just as another guard marched past him.
 
“You’re what?” The other guard responded in curiosity, stopping in his tracks, “What nonsense are you blabbering about now?”
 
“Sorry, just trying to adapt to the cold, is all.”
 
“It’s cause you’re standing still. You need to move around.”
 
“But my orders are to stay here.”
 
“Yes, stay in your area. You’re not assigned to a specific spot, you know. You’re assigned to a certain area. You think the lord’s willing to pay for guards to watch over every square meter of this wall?”
 
“Oh okay, that makes sense, but what are you doing here… you know, in my area?”
 
“My shift just started. I’m on my way to my own area. Don’t get so defensive.” The other guard faced forward and proceeded to march, “Anyway, carry on.”
 
“Aye!” The new guard took note of his superior’s advice and marched the opposite direction to where his area ended, and turned to march the other way.
 
Meanwhile, the other guard was halted in his march towards his own area when he looked out towards the forest far into the horizon of snow and white wind. Within that span of white emerged a great number of crippled figures, all running, limping, and crawling towards the wall.
 
“Dwellers!” The other guard grabbed what appeared to be a ram’s horn from his belt, inhaled, and blew hard into it, signalling the TCG guards nearby with the sound of a horn that would summon an avalanche on a mountain. The sound of frantic footsteps could be heard throughout the entire wall as several guards ran to where the horn was sounded with weapons drawn like barbarians. They gathered as much as they could and looked at the span of land that was spammed with dwellers.
 
“We are the guards of TCG!” one of the guards shouted, conjuring the hype of the surrounding guards. The guard who blew the horn did not shout, but merely stared at the undead army that neared the wall. A smile began to creep across his face, but a guard put a hand on his shoulder, deflating it.
 
“You ready, brotha?” The guard said half-mindedly, but the summoner wiped his shoulder away.
 
“If anyone’s ready,” the summoner said with a calm mind, “it’s me.”
 
The rejected guard shook off his rejection, “FOR TCG!” he shouted without a second thought, bringing another more powerful wave of hype from the crowd of guards.
 
“Form a line!” the summoner shouted. The guards lined up the edge of the wall towards the dwellers that inched closer and closer towards it. The guards drew their arrows, aiming at whatever creature they could find, and fired. A few dozen stopped in their tracks, but many others continued their pursuit. Another wave of arrows unleashed, but the amount of eliminated targets was still not enough. Several waves followed, and all had seemed hopeless.
 
Then a miracle came. From behind the wall of guards atop the tower, a gust of wind blew the backs of their heads as a figure was seen diving into the mass of land ahead of the wall. The figure had a sword literally as big as he was, not swayed by the distance of his fall as he swung, slaughtering several dozen dwellers to rubble. As the attack processed within the guards, the figure looked back with assurance of victory.
 
“It’s Black! Black is here!” The entire group of guards burst into a cheer as Black lunged back towards the wall, where dwellers were about to climb the wall. He swung, sliced, and slashed as, one by one, the dwellers fell victim to his blade as parts of bone and rotted flesh. It was not long before the entire span of white from the guards’s views was eliminated of the threat.
 
“Yeah, Black! You’re our hero!” The guards shouted in rough unison, despite Black’s indifference to it. He withdrew his sword to the strap that bound it to his back, casually walked around the wall towards where the gate was, which was a great distance away.
 
“Wait, my lord…!” A guard shouted, but Black refused to listen. He continued walked.
 
“My lord, the gate’s a long walk away! Should we bring down a ladder?” Black still said nothing. The guards all watched as their savior strutted along the wall, which made them all feel helpless.
 
“Sir!” The guard who originally stood at the corner tower spoke up in a stiff stance, “May I advice that you don’t just casually walk the walls so casually! As a member of the guard, I have seen what threats await beyond the-”
 
“You don’t know sheet what’s beyond the wall!” Black’s voice was enough to paralyze the entire group of guards, let alone the one who spoke up, “The lot of you are only meant to let me know that a threat is near! None of you would survive this wave of dwellers even in the numbers that you are! Steel won’t defend you like you wish! These dwellers can see where you’re vulnerable before you can even get into a stance that makes you look cool!”
 
The entire group of guards mingled in awkwardness as Black continued to walk along the wall. Finally, the group dispersed to their instructed posted, with several headed in Black’s direction, and of all the guards who merely kept an eye on the greatsword-wielding warrior, one decided to speak up.
 
“My lord! Are you sure you don’t require a way into the other side of the wall shorter tha-”
 
“GOD DAMN IT, I CAN WALK!” Black’s voice was like a shockwave to the few guards that walked in his direction, almost literally knocking them back. Some of them couldn’t move, while others were shaking, and not just from the cold, yet they continued to walk. Regardless, duty called, and no one questioned anything else.

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I don't honestly know what to expect from the Dwellers, and those guards seem a little overly relaxed given the situation they were just in, but I like it and want to read more.

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I don't honestly know what to expect from the Dwellers, and those guards seem a little overly relaxed given the situation they were just in, but I like it and want to read more.

 

Good to hear.

 

[spoiler=As far as the guards]The segment where they faced the walkers is a common trope as far as helpless situations as they're faced with. As far as Black, the guards are as fearful of him moreso than an overwhelming mob of Dwellers as far as they know. Plus I know from experience with anything fantasy-related that guards are usually indifferent to their duty so long as they're paid well.

 

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Finally, took you long enough to start this sheet.

 

Promising so far. Not much to say as of right now, just keep it interesting. 

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Finally, took you long enough to start this sheet.

 

Promising so far. Not much to say as of right now, just keep it interesting. 

 

Trust me, this is just the start. As for the rest, I'll leave that to the promising bit.

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[spoiler=So what you're telling me is] Black is Cloud? XD

I can dig it. That was pretty cool, and amusing, keep it up. ^^

 

[spoiler=What I really meant was]Black is Guts

 

 

Biut I see what you mean.

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[spoiler=What I really meant was]Black is Guts

 

 

Biut I see what you mean.

See I would have caught that if I had watched/read that. But either way, I at least got the general idea I guess. XD

*excited*

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See I would have caught that if I had watched/read that. But either way, I at least got the general idea I guess. XD

*excited*

 

They both have a similar sword, but that's even MORE interesting for me.

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[spoiler=What I really meant was]Black is Guts

 

 

Damn, my mental image is right. So far looks quite interesting, though I did share Creator's sentiment that the guards felt like they're a bit acting erratically, but I guess your explanation works.

 

This is going to be quite a ride, it seems.

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*Reads prologue and Chapter 1*

[spoiler=Thoughts]

Prologue

I believe the Issue regarding ??? was before my time as well, but you really couldn't have thought of a better way to start this off tbh

1

I like how you portrayed the TCG house/city/section because it sounds pretty accurate.

 

 

 

This is shaping up to be a pretty good fic, and I can't wait for more.

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Chapter 1 is up already???

 

[spoiler=My thoughts]

The conversation between the new and senior guard I thought was hilarious. 

 

I am eager to see how you portray the other sections, given the accuracy you portrayed TCG. 

 

Keep up the good work!

 

 

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Loved the prologue, you can never have too much CrabxYCMaker interaction.

I see Black is TCG's Jon Snow, I could see that. I'd say hopefully he doesn't see have to see as much sheet, but we all know that'd be kidding ourselves.

Good start, looking forward to what you do here.

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Chapter 1 is up already???

 

[spoiler=My thoughts]

The conversation between the new and senior guard I thought was hilarious. 

 

I am eager to see how you portray the other sections, given the accuracy you portrayed TCG. 

 

Keep up the good work!

 

 

 

I started writing it and planned to include a few more scenes, but I got tired and figured I'd just post what I had written.

 

Glad you liked it. :)

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you'd better not funk up showcase

 

it doesn't help your case that any of your peeps' names would look precious with Stark after it.

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[spoiler=2 - Plague in Purple *1044 words*]A cannon sounded, and the sound of a roaring applause burst from a set of bleachers on two sides of a long stretch of dirt ground. A fence split it equally in half lengthwise, dividing the rivalling regions of Custom Cards that were about to clash. From around the corner of the bleachers, three well-bred horses, one white two black, appeared, causing that crowd to stand and cheer. On the white horse sat a beefy figure dressed in red and gold lacing with a traditional silver crown. The two black horses behind him carried his guards, each holding a flag containing his colors.

 
“ALL HAIL STRIKER!” The crowd chanted as the three horses rode out to the middle of the field and stopped to turn towards them. Striker held out his arms to make the cheers louder, but held his hand up to silence them, which they immediately acknowledged.
 
“Citizens of Custom Cards, I welcome you to the seventh seasonal Custom Cards Jousting Tournament!” The crowd thundered, stomping their feet and throwing their half-eaten food in the air, “Now, before we begin, I have an announcement to make. At the first tournament, I myself have participated as a champion and was victorious. Throughout the next five tournaments, I have suffered injuries that kept me from participating again, but by god did I wish I could!” More cheers echoed, “However, about a year later, here I am without any reason to not fight!”
 
“ALL HAIL STRIKER!”
 
“So this season, you all are in for a special treat, for not only am I going to fight, but the champion will have the honor of facing me!” Waves of cheers followed Striker’s every statement, “So while the champion wins the grand prize, he can also have the chance to win a special prize for defeating me,” Striker reached down to grab the hilt of his sheathed sword, pulling it out and holding it up, “my very own sword!” More cheers, “So without further ado, let’s begin! Bring out the first combatants!” As the crowd continued to roar, a man scurried across the field with a scroll in his hand. The guards shifted to face him, swords drawn.
 
“State your business.” One of them said.
 
“Apologies for the interruption,” the messenger said with a shaky, breathless voice, “I have a message for King Striker.” He held out the scroll, letting the guard take it and giving it to Striker.
 
“What’s this?” Striker asked with curious eyes, prying the scroll from the guard’s hands and opening it, “By the gods! You boy, come with me!” Striker and his guards rode off the field to a red and gold tent sitting just outside of the arena as the messenger struggled to keep up, “Come inside,” the boy did so as he looked around in awe at the display of a king’s tent. Striker sat down, pouring a jug of root beer into two glasses, “Want a glass?” He said, handing out of the glasses to him.
 
“No thank you,” the boy said, nervously shaking his head.
 
“No need to be nervous, boy.”
 
“M-my name’s Raeg, my king.”
 
“Right, right, let’s cut the formalities. Who sent you?”
 
“The queen regent, sir.”
 
“That makes sense, I guess. Is it true? The Watcher has gone missing?”
 
“I was told, sir, but I don’t know for sure.”
 
“It must be true, then, hearing it from the queen. Regardless, I want you to send a message to Huntar for me.”
 
“The assassin, sir?”
 
“Yes, you can find him in the central square past the Flavor Gardens, there should be a wooden target with arrows on it opposite of his door.” Striker spoke as he wrote, later rolling up the paper and wrapping it in red and gold ribbon, “If anyone can find a missing person, it’s him.”
 
“But sir,” the boy said, taking the scroll, “isn’t he an assassin?”
 
“Assassins are hunters, they know how to find people-” The crowd outside began to scream in terror, drawing the pair’s attention.
 
“My king!” One of the guards shouted, entering the tent, “We must go! We’re under attack!”
 
“What the devil is going on?!” Striker exited the tent, seeing the arena being slaughtered by a group dressed in purple hoods. Blood painted the bleachers red.
 
“What’s happening, sir?” The boy peeked out, his eyes widening at the sight.
 
“My king, we must go!” The guards mounted their horses, swords drawn.
 
“Raeg, come with me! Now!” Striker mounted, pulling Raeg up. Raeg wore a look of confused panic as Striker and his guards rode off away from the arena.
 
“But sir, what about the message?” Raeg asked.
 
“You’ll have to wait until we get to safety. These people in purple are here for my head.”
 
“They’re trying to kill you? Why?”
 
“I’ll tell you everything once we’re sa-” An arrow flew past Strikers head and hit the guard’s horse, sending him tumbling.
 
“sheet! My king, are you alright?!” The other guard shifted to ride behind Striker.
 
“I’m fine, just keep riding!” Raeg was tightly embraced to Striker as they rode faster, later to have another arrow hit the other guard in the neck, making him fall off dead.
 
“Sir, he’s aiming at us!” Raeg cried, squeezing tighter. The arrow released, hitting the horse’s leg and making it tumble like the first guard. Striker wrapped his arms around Raeg as he fell on his back, groaning as he struggled to get up.
 
“So you want me, now, do you bastard!” Fully stood, he drew his sword and marched towards the attacker, who drew his own sword. He charged with a raspy battle cry and swung, being blocked by Striker. Striker lowered the clashed blades to bash the attacker’s skull with his own, knocking him own, “You alright, boy?”
 
“I told you, my name’s Ra-”
 
“Yes yes, all the same, are you alright?”
 
“I think so.” Raeg looked up to see another man in purple charging at Striker, only to see him get stabbed from behind by the guard that tumbled.
 
“My king!” he shouted, “Let’s keep going!”
 
“Right, sounds like a good idea.” Striker sheathed his sword, “Let’s go, Raeg. We’ll have to run now.” The three fled as the area was wiped out by the men in purple.

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Probably just me but...

 

[spoiler=stuff]

The part where Striker get up from his fallen horse and attacked the guy that shot down his horse felt a bit odd. Since the narrative seemingly make it that he's the one that eliminated the two guards, it'd be weird for him to be in any range for Striker to actually melee him without getting riddled by arrows in the process, unless he's also in a horse. Which would still be problematic.

 

 

 

Otherwise, intense stuff. Not sure whether the pacing is too fast or not, but I like it so far tbh. Keep it up, thar.

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