[Fanfiction] Sages of Despair (My take)

So, lately I have been writing a story based off of the Sages of Despair social group. Tell me what you guys think about the writing and stuff.

(Disclaimer: I make no claim to the name Sages of Despair, or to the character's Michael, Golgoth, or Doran. The belong to their respective owners. And yes, I have permisson to use them.)

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Prologue



“He needs to go.” The horn-tailed demon, Kag-maw said, in a hushed whisper.

“But how?” An airy, almost non-existent voice said back. “He has control of everything.”

“I know, my love, but I have aplan”

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The voices carried on the wind, hushed as they were, carried on the wind, through the black stone caverns and tunnels that made up the Under-Dark. The wind passed above several demons-demented and malformed in the most horrific ways imaginable-as though it had a direction it needed to go in.

The wind took the conversation to the she demon Zag-Com. Her ears were like a bat's, as was the rest of her body, black, leathery, and sticking straight up. They were made for picking up gossip and secrets, and she would give it away, that is, for the right price. Zag-Com smirked, showing her fangs, and took off running to the throne room, her talons clicking and sending sparks up as she went.

Bleak and endless. That is the best way to describe the Under-Dark. It connects all the planets and realms together, acting as the path between them all. In theory, if you knew the changing paths the tunnels take, than you could go anywhere, at any time. And if you run the other direction, you will end up in the throne room, where the queen presides.

Zag-Com skidded around the corner, her talons easily letting go of the floor and then latching on when she needed to turn. This was the last corner she had to take to get to the throne room. Two heavy, stone doors, and larger than anything in the Under-Dark, guarded by two stone golems, twenty feet tall, and holding battle-axes across theirchests. They looked like decoration, in some stone armor like knights, exceptfor the green fire billowing from the slits in their helmets. “STATE YOURBUSINESS!” Two deep, rumbling voices said in unison. “I have information for the queen, about a murder attempt on the prince.” Suddenly, the doors burst open, a strong burst of wind following, almost enough to knock Zag-Com off ofher feet. No one was behind the door to push it, and nothing else was in theutter darkness.

Suddenly, a female voice rang out.“Who is trying to kill my son!

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Fyrex was walking through the dark tunnels, exploring what was going to be his kingdom someday. He called out to the demons he knew, saying hello to the grotesque creatures. Fyrex himself looked very human, a scar running down the right side of his face, and dressed in a black T-Shirt and cargo pants, that he had gotten in one of his many adventures. It was one of his favorite outfits. Only he was forced to wear some tights underneath his pants by his mother.

Fyrex continued his path, finding a tunnel that he hadn’t marked on the side with his sword with his emblem, a skull with two sword scrossing behind it. It was easy when you were skilled with the sword, but it doesn’t hurt to have a magic sword too. He looked along it, and saw something he had not seen for several weeks. “Light” He thought, scrambling to get to the end of the tunnel, as if it would disappear if he didn’t get there soon. He was suddenly blinded by more light, but when his vision cleared…

He was greeted with a stunning view. Closest to him was arolling plain of perfectly green grass, with a very clear cut stone path in the midst. Farther down the path was a grand castle of white marble, with towers on all four corners. Fyrex was in awe of the entire scene, so in awe that he did not notice the several hundred demons lining the sides of the hill.

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A man cloaked in black crept towards the black stone wall. There was almost nothing to be seen of him in the dead of night, save the glisten of his black and silver dagger he held in his hand. The wall was over sixty feet high, higher than any man could ever jump. The man did not falter, but continued to walk straight into the wall, and walk through it as if it weren’t even there.

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Doran awoke to the dark feeling of a curse within the walls of the Temple of Despair, head quarters of the vigilante freedom fighters, The Sages of Despair. Their goal was to try and keep the peace in the realms they knew of, and discover more to gain knowledge. Inevitably, that made it so they gained enemies of the power-hungry and dictators. The sages always had to be on their guard, and always had a system of wards running along the walls and on the grounds as they slept.

Doran sat up, his blood red eyes awake and alert. He quickly stood up and threw on his dark robes from the day before and ran up the stairs, checking on where he thought the curse had originated from. He flung open the door of the leader of the Sages, Golgoth, hoping vainly that nothing would be wrong. Golgoth lay on his bed, breath shallow and quick, and deathly pale. The window to his chamber was open. Grimly, Doran rang the bell that stood outside every door in the temple to alert everyone to the crisis.

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“I don’t understand. How did he make it through the walls and the courtyard without being spotted or tripping one of the wards?” Michael asked Doran, who shrugged, looking at the barelyalive body of Golgoth. Michael looked a bit disheveled, his pitch black hair ina mess, his black eyes wide. His armor was clumsily thrown on, the spikes on his shoulders lopsided and his breastplate uneven.

“The assassin was cloaked with black magic, bypassing our wards as if they were not even there. What is odd, though, is the poison used. It is derived from a magical plant, which only grows within the darkest reaches of the Under-Dark, by the name of Nightthistle. It is incurable by any means we have here, but I have read in ancient texts that, there is a machine, across the Great Divide, that can grant the user good health and limitless youth. It is the only thing that I can think of that may save Golgoth’s life. I believe that it may exist, but is impossible to prove unless we see it ourselves.” Doran said.

“If you say it is the only chance we have of saving his life, then we ride in the morning.”

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Fyrex looked around the entire hill, still missing all of the demons were around him. The scene was beautiful, with green, rolling plains, and outcroppings of trees all around, still with the castle gleaming in the distance. It was one he withdrew back into himself he finally noticed the trap he had walked into.

The horde of demons advanced, bows in hand, while Fyrex still pretended to not notice them. All in one motion, they knocked their arrows, drew back, and released, the arrows whistling through the air, and the shadows blocked the sun for a moment. Just before they reached their target, a blast of wind burst from Fyrex, stopping all of the arrows in their tracks.

Fyrex whipped around, drawing his sword. In his moment of distraction, almost one hundred demons had moved behind him, blocking the entrance to the cave that led back into the Under-Dark. Fyrex took in the entire situation, assuming a rest position, the tip of his sword in the dirt. The horde that was immediately in front of him was the strongest of the four, with the largest demons. The ones on the right and left were the weak ones, meant to keep him occupied while the front flank moved in on him. And the ones in front of the cave were the weakest of the Kag clan, meant as a last line of defense if all else failed.

In the time that Fyrex was analyzing this, nothing moved. The reason for this lull was the demons hesitation, because they were scared. Everyone in the Under-Dark knew of Fyrex’s skill with the sword, but they finally found courage in numbers. They moved forward like a wall of gnashing teeth and clashing weapons. The space between Fyrex and the other demons was slowly closing, and from the air it would have looked like a several large waves from every direction were swallowing up an island. Just as Fyrex came in the reach of one of the demons, he jumped into the air, and used his powers over the wind to raise himself even higher, and direct himself towards the cave.

While in the air, wings sprouted from his back, but they did not look like regular wings. They were transparent, one light, and it seemed to sparkle in the sun, and the other was dark, and seemed to suck in the light around it. The wings flapped as if on their own accord, as Fyrex sheathed his sword and pushed his palms towards the ground, and a flow of lava came out of his hands. From the air, the streak of destruction was easily visible; the ground burnt to where nothing could ever grow again, and not even charred bones to mark the existence of the demons that were in its path.

Coincidently, one of the demons that were in its path was Kag-Maw. He was able to let out a blood curdling screech before he was turned too less than dust.

Fyrex furled in his wings, and prepared to hit the ground. When he felt his feet touch, he tucked his knees and rolled into the dark stone cave. He took off at a full sprint, so fast that a human’s eyes could not follow, knowing that there was no way that he could kill them all.

While he ran into the tunnel, one of the demons had the sense to grab one of the discarded bows that were on the ground and nock an arrow into it. The demon smiled a sharp toothed grin while he pulled the arrow back, and released.

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Doran sat on his skeleton horse, his cloak fluttering and the horses bone’s clanking in the wind. The sun had yet to show over the Mountains of Ruin, but he could see a little light peeking up over them, turning the gray sky pink. Doran thought that this was uncharacteristically happy in the world of Sotama. He sighed and shook his head, pondering what it would take to cross the divide.

The Sages would have to board an airship, an awful contraption. It looked like a large, oblong balloon with propellers all over the front and back, should the need arise to go in reverse.There were also several ‘observation globes’, as the schematics call them, that would make passengers able to look around outside of the entire airship, and watch as everything flew by.

Witchcraft… Doran scoffed, but even he had to admit, it was the only way to cross the Divide.

He was awoken from his thoughts by the clattering of hooves on stone as Michael, clean shaven and ready for thejourney in his long traveling cloak that covered his armor, along with the saddle bags on his and Doran horses.

“Took you long enough, brother!” Doran said as Michael came close enough to talk. Michael was on a skeletal horse of his own, but the bones were dyed black, for reasons unknown to everyone but Michael, and he wasn’t going to share the secret with anyone for the time being.

“We agreed dawn, did we not?” Michael yawned, wiping sleep from his eyes.

“Yes, I suppose we did.” Doran said begrudgingly.

“I assume you are ready?” Michael asked, eyeing the saddlebags hanging from Doran horse.

“Yes, I am.” Doran said, and without further conversation, they snapped the reigns to their respective horses and rode into the forest.

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Well, this is the prologue, and I will hopefully update it later. Tell me what you guys think about it, and ways I can improve.

My thoughts can be found here. Click on the highlighted part to see the corresponding comment. My general thoughts/advice on the piece are found at the end.

Overall, I think it has a lot of potential, and I'd like to see it continued with you working on some of the things I mentioned at the end.

I could almost hug you! I didn't expect to get a review so quickly, and am blown away by the detail that you looked over it with. Thank you for taking the time to do this, and I will make revisions as soon as I am at an actual computer.

Herro. Pinkie Pie's uploaded her thoughts, which can be found here.

Again, I COULD HUG YOU! It is amazing that you guys would take the time out of your schedules to read it and give good reviews that will help in all of my writing. My next chapter that I write will hopefully be much better thanks to you guys.

Chapter One:
The two men rode through the forest, towards the Mountains of Ruin, trees flitting past them at high speeds, while their horses just continued to ride to the destination. If either of them had tried to talk, the words would have been ripped from their mouths. They rode low, their bodies pressing against the skeletal horses, as to not be knocked off by the trees flying by.
When they reached the mountains, they slowed; looking for the small pass that would lead them to the plains, and then it was a straight two hour ride to the port town, Parkent. When they found the canyon, they resumed their frantic pace.

As they came through the middle of the pass, something flashed between the trees, caught by Doran’s eyes. He reigned in his horse, interested in what could be in this deserted pass, because it was not a beast.
Not only was there sight, there was a smell as well, and Doran’s sensitive nose picked it up quickly. The metallic smell of blood.
As the thing shambled through the forest, Michael slowed, then stopped, and listened for a moment. When that moment was over, he reached for his twin swords, strapped to the saddle of his horse. But before he could draw them, the thing, whatever it was, reached the very edge of the trees.
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Before he even felt it, Fyrex knew where the arrow was going to hit. He contorted himself while he was running, and felt it pierce his shoulder; saw the blood fly, and then the pain hit. The arrow stopped at the fletching, the forces behind it making him stumble, but through a sheer force of will, he stayed on his feet.

Tears coming to his eyes, still running, not caring to where, Fyrex gripped the shaft of the arrow that came through the front of his shoulder. He quickly snapped it, crying out. When the pain subsided, he grabbed the fletching behind him, and pulled it out, the pain obscrutiating. He turned left, and in a flash of clarity, saw light at the end of this tunnel as well. He stumbled towards it, panting, and the horde behind was him slowly disappearing, not realizing that he had disappeared into the side tunnel.

As he came near the end of the tunnel, he tore off a strip from his shirt, and slowed for a moment, just long enough for him to tie the strip of cloth around his wound. Then he was running again.

When he reached the end of the tunnel, the light was duller than in the other world.
The rocky ground was bathed in dawn light. With the blood seeping from his makeshift bandage, he knew that he would have to find help soon if he hoped to survive. He looked around him, hoping to find a path to a town somewhere.

With some bad luck, the tunnel that Fyrex had chosen came out near the top of a mountain. Knowing that, soon, the demons would realize that they had been tricked, he picked a path through the trees to get down the mountain. He hoped that he would find someone to help him. Otherwise, he wouldn’t need to worry about the demons any more.

As he made his way down the mountain, Fyrex found that he was becoming dizzier by the minute. His shirt was drenched in blood, and he had to balance himself against trees more and more to keep himself from collapsing. “Almost there…..” He said to himself, without even knowing where ‘there’ was. He was keeping himself awake by talking to himself.

Just as Fyrex was about to give up, in a detached part of his mind, he heard hooves hitting the ground. Drawing on his last reserves of strength, Fyrex stumbled through the trees toward the sound. It had stopped, but he could remember which direction he had heard it from. As he stumbled one last time, he saw two shadows, and, gratefully, he embraced unconsciousness.
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So, this is a little short to be a chapter, but I like where I cut it off. The reason for all of the skipping in the Prologue was because I wanted to set up the entire story. The no explanation for Fyrex's abilities was not given for a reason. When I post the next chapter, you'll see why.

Chapter One:
The two men rode through the forest, towards the Mountains of Ruin, trees flitting past them at high speeds, while their horses just continued to ride to the destination. If either of them had tried to talk, the words would have been ripped from their mouths. They rode low, their bodies pressing against the skeletal horses, as to not be knocked off by the trees flying by.

When they reached the mountains, they slowed; looking for the small pass that would lead them to the plains, and then it was a straight two hour ride to the port town, Parkent. When they found the canyon, they resumed their frantic pace.

As they came through the middle of the pass, something flashed between the trees, caught by Doran’s eyes. He reigned in his horse, interested in what could be in this deserted pass, because it was not a beast.
Not only was there sight, there was a smell as well, and Doran’s sensitive nose picked it up quickly. The metallic smell of blood.
As the thing shambled through the forest, Michael slowed, then stopped, and listened for a moment. When that moment was over, he reached for his twin swords, strapped to the saddle of his horse. But before he could draw them, the thing, whatever it was, reached the very edge of the trees.
__________________________________________________ ______

Before he even felt it, Fyrex knew where the arrow was going to hit. He contorted himself while he was running, and felt it pierce his shoulder; saw the blood fly, and then the pain hit. The arrow stopped at the fletching, the forces behind it making him stumble, but through a sheer force of will, he stayed on his feet.

Tears coming to his eyes, still running, not caring to where, Fyrex gripped the shaft of the arrow that came through the front of his shoulder. He quickly snapped it, crying out. When the pain subsided, he grabbed the fletching behind him, and pulled it out, the pain obscrutiating. He turned left, and in a flash of clarity, saw light at the end of this tunnel as well. He stumbled towards it, panting, and the horde behind was him slowly disappearing, not realizing that he had disappeared into the side tunnel.

As he came near the end of the tunnel, he tore off a strip from his shirt, and slowed for a moment, just long enough for him to tie the strip of cloth around his wound. Then he was running again.

When he reached the end of the tunnel, the light was duller than in the other world.
The rocky ground was bathed in dawn light. With the blood seeping from his makeshift bandage, he knew that he would have to find help soon if he hoped to survive. He looked around him, hoping to find a path to a town somewhere.

With some bad luck, the tunnel that Fyrex had chosen came out near the top of a mountain. Knowing that, soon, the demons would realize that they had been tricked, he picked a path through the trees to get down the mountain. He hoped that he would find someone to help him. Otherwise, he wouldn’t need to worry about the demons any more.

As he made his way down the mountain, Fyrex found that he was becoming dizzier by the minute. His shirt was drenched in blood, and he had to balance himself against trees more and more to keep himself from collapsing. “Almost there…..” He said to himself, without even knowing where ‘there’ was. He was keeping himself awake by talking to himself.

Just as Fyrex was about to give up, in a detached part of his mind, he heard hooves hitting the ground. Drawing on his last reserves of strength, Fyrex stumbled through the trees toward the sound. It had stopped, but he could remember which direction he had heard it from. As he stumbled one last time, he saw two shadows, and, gratefully, he embraced unconsciousness.
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So, this is a little short to be a chapter, but I like where I cut it off. The reason for all of the skipping in the Prologue was because I wanted to set up the entire story. The explanation for Fyrex's abilities was not given for a reason. When I post the next chapter, you'll see why.