Swifthawk

Sitting upon a boulder mound, Swifthawk carved away at an unfinished longbow. Weaponsmith was a favorite passtime when away from combat. A breeze flew across the vast, lush fields. Swifthawk, with keen sences, smelled blood and heard a far cry, seeming to come from the forest. Swift stood, shouldered a sword's sheath across his back, and leapt from the rocks. He sprinted across the fields to the forest edge, then stopped. Careful, as to not damage his blade, he slipped it from its sheath and continued on, into the cold of the forest's shade.

The winds became stronger, catching Swift's ruffed, orange fur. Swift listened, hearing a bow being notched. Several more followed. He sat down, acting unexpectant of attack. A bow's string twitched. A faint whisper came from behind an exceptionally large oak, an oak large enough for several archers, Swift thought. Swift crept closer toward the oak, putting himself in range of the archers. He heard one archer whisper to another.

"Fire."

Swift dove into a tangle of roots beside the archers as a barrage of arrows flew over. He rolled over, jumped up and swung his blade into the rabbits. He hit two, killing both. Five more approached, dropping their bows and arming daggers. Swift noticed their sheaths, with an intricate leatherworking pattern identical on each. The rabbits had been sent by only one, Mutilius. The archers engaged Swifthawk with a flurry of blades and steel. Two more black, green-cloaked rabbits fell, both with slash wounds. The last three disappeared. Hidden near a bush, Swift found an injured captive, and an old friend, lying with severe cuts in the legs and chest in a small pool of blood. Several InstaGel* bindings had ensnared the captive to the ground.

* InstaGel bindings are a series of tight wraps created by either a spell or potion. The bindings are thick and gel-like, also translucent. Color may depend on spell used. More technologically, a specialized energy ball can also create these bindings.

Swifthawk bent down to his comrade and spoke.

"Speedy, wake up, you're hurt."

If you guys like it I can continue writing. I have nothing but time. Just be honest, tell me if you liked it or not. -Speedy

It's pretty good Speedy. Keep writing. Hopefully people will add a reply once they've read your story (they don't with mine )

Tell me if you're taking joiners.
On a side note, archers? WHat happened to blasters?

Nice story, Speedy please continue!

I'll hopefully write more tonight after Saturday Night Live, when I have some alone time. About the archers, the story is based in an older time, although I realize that the InstaGel bindings might be considered as an anachronism. Dunno. Heck, it's a story. I also find older, more classic weapons (bows, swords/blades, daggers, basic stuff) to be more fun. Strangely, I like carving wood daggers when I'm camping and am bored. I figured that I don't want to write as much about myself and my own character in an unhonest light, to tell the truth, in reality, I'm quite the wimpy person. Swifthawk is more of the person we would all want to be.

Speedy rolled over, exposing a series of battle wounds, caked in blood and dirt. The plasmic blue tentecles braced him down until Swifthawk drew out a dagger and tore the wraps away. Speedy vaguely recognized his friend, croutching down beside him. He seemed concious but wouldn't speak. Swifthawk lifted Speedy upon his shoulders and strode away towards his camp.

Awoken by Swift yet again, Speedy lain in a crude but comfortable bed of leaves and grass. The only light came from a glowing, orange lamp under the tent's shadow and the dim evening's shade. Looking around, Speedy saw two shelves, one with various pieces or armor and weaponry, another with curious bottled potions and remedies, such as Sourdew, for stabs and slashes, or Goldroot, for bruises and concussions. Speedy gestured towards the shelves. "It's all yours. You might need it."

Speedy replied, "I'm not a warrior, you should 'ave known that."

Swifthawk turned away from Speedy. "You wanted to fight back, you know, when you were in the forest. But you couldn't." Speedy defencivly responded, "No, I'm too slow, and, well, too weak. I don't know how to fight."

"I'll train you.." Swifthawk offered, "if you'd like."

Speedy, overwhelmed by the offer, accepted. After several days in bed, he had recovered, all but his pride. His pride would soon be won, he thought firmly as he slipped into his armor. A newfound warrior spirit filled him, within him rest a fierce desire for battle.

Better then usual, chap..

`Ducky

Gee really, it's good? Thanks! As I said before, more later, got lots of Christmas vacation time off.

Swifthawk rolled off his bed and woke to the sunlight from his doorway. A figure cast a shadow upon the ground. "Good morning, Speedy." He was amazed at Speedy's new appearance. For once he stood proud and eager, instead of scared, and slump. Minutes later Swifthawk was also suited in armor, armed with a shortsword, two daggers, and a thin, curved blade. The two set out towards a clearing in the woods, Swift's preferable training grounds. Swift had arranged a friend to meet them.

"Speedy," Swift called out. "This is my friend defalcon. Def, this is Speedy." Speedy looked up and gave a faint wave, as he was naturally shy. Swift continued, "He'll show you anything that I can't."

Defalcon and Swifthawk both began sparring, first demonstrating proper dagger jabs. Soon enough Speedy joined in, starting slow but growing quicker as he caught on. On several occasions Swift was nearly pinned to the ground only inches from Speedy's blade. After several hours, Swift looked at the sun, dropping farther into the trees as it set.

Swifthawk motioned to defalcon and stepped away from Speedy to talk. "Def, I have a duel to fight," Swift explained, "and I need you to train Speedy in some basic woods stealth. I'll be off now." He turned away and left briskly.

Mutilius hid in a branch looming over the misty paths, longsword in grasp, awaiting Swift's arrival. Swift, on the other hand, strode unaware, expecting a proper meeting. He had come armed only with his trusted curved blade and mask, without heavy plates and pads.

Speedy and defalcon crawled under deep brush through the silent forest. Branches and briars scratched at Speedy's face, but he kept on, ignoring a cut on his leg growing deeper every few feet. Defalcon, with dagger in hand, cleared as many obstacles possible, making travel easier for young Speedy. Defalcon neared a path. Looking up, he saw a dark figure, resting upon a branch, bundled under a black cloak with sword in hand, he noted, fearful of attack.

Hey! I'm in it! Kewl! Do you need a profile Speedy?

Good story, keep it up!

It's good! Realistic in aspects and yet fanstasy genre in the same way.

PS: This might be sort of a jerk thing to say but... could I join, If I'm not using a blaster I'm using a bow and arrow minorly enchanted with fire/ice.

Sure, anyone can join, I'll eventually need more names. I really have to develop the plot a bit more. So far I've developed the current characters, except defalcon and Mutilius, except we know Mutilius is this mysterious, evil dude.

Do you need a Shword of Fire?

Hey Speedy, do you need my profile? If so I'll give it to you through PM.