Curse

Saox · Jan 29, 2006, 01:29 PM // 13:29

Hurray, the guru is back up! Now I can post this fanfic where I originally wanted to. Anyhow, here it is. Hope you enjoy :\ *copy and pastes*
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Well, after reading over a few of the fanfics and "roleplaying," stories here, I've decided to type up my own little plot. Yet, I do not like to jump right into the first chapter, so I shall first give a brief summary of the story (of course the chapter following right after this.)

Summary:
Ance and Sen have been together ever since birth. They grew up together, dreamed together, and loved the world together. But as the young grow old, so do their dreams. As the two come of age, both Ance and Sen develop into trained "Hunters," an underground class of political assassins, trained to take hits from clients and get rid of high ranked statuses, keeping everything quiet. But as one law of matter, you must never become attached. Never. Ance and Sen lose their childs spirit, their hearts stolen by the lust of blood and gold.
Yet, there is always hope for a lost soul. When Ance meets a young crippled child named Jake, he begins to remember the young man he used to be. As he does, Sen begins to see the old boy of her past re-emerge, the boy she used to love. But not everything comes without a price. As Ance begins to form a bond with the boy, he must also break bonds with his highest clients. Yet they do not share his passion. As Ance dives deeper into the world of hunting, he rises closer and closer to his payers knowledge. Soon, he discovers that not all customers can be satisfied so easily, and that not all hunters, can simply leave the hunt.

Ok, I believe that gives you enough knowledge as to what this story may in time, be about. Anyhow, you sat through the opening summary, so it's only fair to give you an opening chapter. It's not the greatest of writing talent, but I hope you find it enjoyable. Here is chapter one, to Among The Hunted.

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Chapter One: Red Gold

"Sen...Se-Sen! What the hell are you...damnit, come here!" Struggling, Ance kept his voice to a whisper, beckoning to his companion and throwing insults at her as she paced her way from one side of the abandoned home to the other. She stopped once again to peer down at the rocky floor, scanning it as if she had misplaced an item and needed to make a recovery.
"What are you doing? If they spot us, we'll surely be-"
She interrupted him with a gesture of the hand, holding her index finger up to his face, still gazing down at the floor. "I need to see if they laid out traps. They may know we're here. Or at least be on to the fact that there are hunters out for them."
"Are you insane?" Ance had calmed down, but was still annoyed at Sen's over-cautious attitude. "How would they know anyone was out to get them, Sen? The stupid fools haven't even reached their peek in political power; they couldn't possibly know that they're already being watched. I mean-"
"Yet they know that they've already gained themselves many followers. That's sure to gain someone’s attention, and they know it. If they were as stupid as you say, then they wouldn't be leading this revolution right now."
"Dear lord..." Ance rested up against the corner of the home he had been leaning against, and slumped down, brushing away pebbles and rocks as he did so. "Well, let me know once you're finished. I on the other hand-" He reached into his side pocket, pulled out a quill, followed by an ink bottle, and soon after that, a parchment of paper "-am going to see how much R.G. this is bringing in."
R.G. A term that they had made up between one another, mainly for when discussing business in town to avoid attention. It stood for red gold. Any money they had made had come from their kills, and the deaths themselves were hardly clean. Usually, most of the time, the body needed to be disposed of once ruined, and a bullshit reason was usually given to the heroes many followers, the story mainly being the victim dying while fighting a horde of trolls, just outside of Ascalon or some other known town. It was a good enough business. Nobody asked many questions, and the pay was well. This is how their life was. Simple and without rules; the life of a hunter.
"So..." Ance dipped the tip of his writing utensil into the ink jar and studied over the paper. "Who are these guys we're hunting again?"
"Marcus Trueshot and...Marcus Trueshot...Oh! Yes, Marcus Trueshot and Howard Nights."
"Uh huh..." Ance looked down through the paper, skipping over various markings on names and descriptions, looking for the two given identities. When finding his two targets, he began to see what their reason for death was.
"So...they've been boycotting the Lion's Archs merchants...and have been inspiring other consumers to stop buying from them? Right...and...and...Sen? What the hell is this? An A? You're a woman, you should be able to write beautiful words; this is horrid. And yes, I’m sexist, so don’t start bitching."
Sen flicked a stone towards him, but he caught it in midair and smiled. Flashing the paper towards her, she looked up, confirmed his thoughts and he read on. As he went, Sen got up and walked towards him, resting upon the wooden frame behind them, and sitting next to her friend, looking over his shoulder as he read in his lowered voice.
"By the way..." she said. "It was only bad because I had to constantly shift positions while writing, just to keep that fat pigs eyes off me. I'm surprised you didn't notice…I hate our clients."
"Oh I did. Problem was, you were moving. Made you look like you were nervous. I guess that turned him on. Anyhow, I have to say, this is by far one of the stupidest targets we've gotten. He boycotted Lion's Arch, so what? If he can't afford the damn black dye, then don't buy it."
"It's not just that. The higher quality items have attracted many rich merchants, none of which are that kind to the locals. It's been hurting the natives, but the higher officials just want their profits. Seeing as this kid is starting to make others follow in his footsteps, we need to get rid of him, before he starts a whole riot."
"I guess..." Ance had stood on his feet. Quickly putting away his materials, he leaned over and picked up his bow, facing Sen as she too rised off the ground, standing right beside him. "So did you find any traps?"
"None."
He smiled, and she smiled back. "Ok then. Here's what we do."
Ance's head peered around one the houses corners, and in the distance, beyond the brush of the plants and forest, a faint glow shown dimly in the night. "They're either sleeping. Or they're eating and doing...something. I'm not sure if they're alone or not, so we should be cautious. Got it?"
Sen nodded and followed him as he moved slowly from his hiding spot, creeping slowly behind the branch of a fallen tree. For about a minute or so, both Ance and Sen moved from tree to tree, bush to bush, each second closing the space between they and their targets. And after the minutes had passed, they were there. Peering out from beneath a bush, they spotted both Marcus and Howard, wrapped under rawhide blankets and snoring softly as their fire slowly began to fade out.
Ance looked at Sen, and she replied with a brief nod. They both crept out from their spot, now in the open, approaching the two men, quietly, cautiously, making sure as to not wake them. Had it not been for the crackle of the fire, Ance and Sen might be heard, due to the many stones and branches, which lay on the floor, scattering about as they both inched their way closer to the prey. But they had perfected this routine, even the fire itself had been brought into the equation. Kill the men, return their heads to the big man, collect the pay, and leave.
Ance now stood over Marcus, the main man behind the growing revolution. Kill him, and the tension would end. Sen stood foot length away from Howard, staring down at him with both her butterfly swords held at her side, tensed up, just in case. He had been Marcus’s companion, the man who supported Marcus on every move. His name was just as big among the followers.
A few seconds, maybe ten or twelve, passed between the two killers, complete silence save for the fire, as the two eyed their targets. Both men were young, surprisingly young at that. If either Ance or Sen had to make a guess, they would say they were in their early twenties, and they would have probably been right on the on the money. But then again, they had not come to discuss looks. They came for the kill. And as always, the driving force behind each event, the R.G.
Finally, Ance looked up and waited for Sen’s approval, and once catching her eye, he tilted down his bow in an arch, placing an arrow behind the string as he aimed it for the front of Marcus’s chest. Sen mimicked him, taking her two blades and directing the edges at Howard’s neck, waiting to make a clean kill as soon as he awoke. The string on Ance’s weapon was pulled back, slowly, silently, ready to take aim and fire. Sen crouched down on one knee, holding her blade just inches above Howard’s neck.
Yet it happened in an instant, and the plan was ruined. Before either of the two could act, Marcus Trueshot shot up from where he lay, sweeping up a handful of dust and thrusting it towards Sen’s eyes. Hitting the exact target, Sen screamed and fell back, Howard now too on his feet, a magical staff held in his hand. Ance hoisted up his bow, afraid Howard would hurt Sen, but he realized his mistake much later than he usually would have. Before he could aim the weapon back to his original target, Marcus had wrapped his hands around the bow and threw himself on top of him, causing them both to land in the dirt, now tumbling about as Marcus attempted to reach a knife out of his side pocket, Ance latching his arms around Marcus’s wrists.
Howard, leaving Ance to his companion, turned his attention towards Sen, his eyes turning a brilliant white as he hovered inches above ground, the flame behind him suddenly growing in size. Before Sen could react, a flaming bird flew from the fire directly towards her, its wings held out to its sides, its beaks edge facing directly at her. She threw herself to the floor, but the flames on the creature’s wings still managed to scorch her shoulder. Another being was conjured from the flame, but Sen was ready this time. Quickly running at the elementalist, she rolled forward as another phoenix flew out towards her, this one completely missing, and leaving its user completely vulnerable.
Howard could not get out more than a scream before Sen took her two blades and thrust them into his thighs, pulling back as she had attached her weapons to his body. As his body fell, she spun her own and thrust up with one hand, taking a clean slice of his neck and decapitating the young mans head, his body now laying limp on the floor, its arm caught in the once again, small campfire. His head rolled over towards the two men wrestling and the floor, its dead gaze catching eyes with Marcus.
“Howard!” The sound, which echoed from Marcus’s voice, did not sound like a shout, but an enraged cry. This man had not simply been his companion he was his friend. Marcus, suddenly thrusting Ance off his body, looked up at Sen, his eyes red and bulging with tears, his teethed clenched together like that of a wolves. “You bitch!” He pulled out his knife, and completely forgetting Ance, rushed Sen, his dagger held in front of him, it’s edge facing Sen, exactly as the bird’s beak had.
Had Sen not been stricken from that horrible noise of the man’s cry for his friend, she may have dodged the first attack. But she had broken out of her hesitation too late, the man’s knife piercing her as she tried to step back. Sen let out a cry, causing Ance to rage into his own loyal fury. Quickly snatching up his bow, he stood up and shot one arrow into the young warriors back, Marcus letting out another scream (this sound was new to both the hunters…it was different…it was proud…it was…dying), staggering forward as the arrow stayed in place, drawing blood from his body. He turned around…the same sneer he had held towards Sen now facing Ance. Tears filled his eyes. Yet these tears did not seem the same as other men and women they had killed. These were not out of fear or rage…but out of disgust…remorse. Before Marcus could utter another word, he fell forward, the tears falling back into midair as he land.
Ance rushed over to Sen, who, now still on the ground, held her waist. “ Shit! Sen, are you hurt, are you ok? Come on, we need to-“
“I’m fine…” she smiled. “The weapon wasn’t too long…I’m…”
“Jesus Christ Sen, you’re bleeding! Oh my lord…hold on…”
Before she could protest, Ance snatched up one of her daggers and ran over to Marcus’s dead body, cutting off an edge of his shirt, holding it gently in his hand as he rushed back.
“Stand still…” Quickly, precisely, he wrapped the clothing around his friend’s waist, tying the loose ends in a knot to try and stop the blood flow. “We need to get you back to town…”
“Ance…” Ance turned towards her, already stood up and ready to piggy back her all the way back.
“The way he screamed…he…why are we doing this?”
Ance stared at her, silent for a moment. Not knowing how to answer. “We do it for the money…we need the money-“
“But we have enough, don’t we…I mean” She stopped and bit her bottom lip as her hand rushed back to her waist, holding down the injury.”
“Damnit Sen…stop talking…we need to get you to town.”
Quickly snatching up the head of both Marcus and Howard (he had to quickly take the head off Marcus’s body, using the mans own knife to do so), and wrapping them both in the rawhide blanket, he dragged them along in one hand as he made Sen rest upon the opposite shoulder, putting his arm around her to help her hold down the stab wound.
“Shh…no talking, ok? We’ll get you to town, find a nice Inn, and get you fixed up. We can collect the gold afterwords…”
“But Ance…Marcus…why do we do this if we already-“
“Shh…no talking…”
Ance did not want to hear it, for he had asked himself the same question many times. Why had they hunted? They had the money to quit. They had the money to settle down. So why did they continue? He didn’t know…but then it hit him. He wasn’t in this for just the gold. No. It was the Red gold…wasn’t it?
Silent…hands wrapped around both his treasure and his companion, Ance stared down at the cold floor as he ventured back to Lion’s Arch, listening to the crackle of the distant fire fade away…the souls of two glorious men stuffed away into a hand-made bag…their hard work, their effort, all put to an end for gold…red f#cking gold.
Ance formed what seemed to be a smile.
“What is it?” Sen had spoken again…but Ance did not protest.
“Ance…”
Ance looked away…
“It’s nothing Sen…stop talking.”
What held him was not a grin but a distorted frown, his teeth biting down on his upper lip. This was what it was all about, right? Gold. Red f#cking gold. Ance laughed, but not of humor. Sen looked up again, but before she could ask, Ance just shook his head.
“It’s nothing Sen…”
He stared back down at the ground, putting the thought away.
“It’s nothing…”

___Chapter One End

EDIT: Had to take out chapter two opening...accidentally put it here. Also, I hope you enjoyed the opening chapter. Criticism and comments appreciated. Why the hell is it taking so long to edit this post...? :\

Ristaron · Jan 29, 2006, 10:15 PM // 22:15

Very mature writing. Not talking about the language, but the way the characters are human, and not killing robots. I look forward to Chapter two.

Goats17 · Feb 04, 2006, 10:47 PM // 22:47

didnt enjoy this one as much as i did the other featured writings this week, but this was still good. U should check out the others ones.

Saox · Feb 06, 2006, 08:30 PM // 20:30

yea..I sort of...[I]forgot[I] about this site...anyhow, here's chapter two...to those reading it. It's a bit rushed, but here it is.

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Chapter Two: Where Sinners Call Each Other Family

Ance lay quietly in his inn room, his clothing thrown to the side of the far wall, piled up over his bounty (the stench of death now finding its way out of the bag), and his bow thrown neatly on top. He held his arms behind his head, staring up at the poorly crafted ceiling, pondering on the events, which had taken place the previous night. Marcus had hurt Sen, bad, or so he had thought. They had reached town the night before, and as promised, Ance had found them an inn (which, sadly, was not much of a place in itself), to get her helped in. According to those who had looked over her, the wound was not deep enough to be fatal, and all she really needed was proper stitching with some rest on the side. Ance had agreed, and rented out a room.

Now here he lay, naked, save for his undergarments, staring off into space as he thought on his next course of action. He could either wait for Sen to regain her health, or go with his better judgment and finish the hike back to Lion’s Arch on his own, coming back for Sen once he had received their pay. After not much self-arguing on what to do, he put on his clothes, and crept out of the small housing, granting himself some alone time in the small village, enjoying the crisp morning air around him.

Yet sadly, there was not much to take in. Aside from the Inn, the area was pretty much a flat plane, save for the few huts, which stuck out of the ground, horrid signs advertising wears and foods hanging loosely on their doors. Yet, despite this, the place gave off a calming aurora, the flattened roads seeming to go on forever in each direction, making it seem as if their were nothing beyond this small, quiet town. And oddly enough, Ance enjoyed the setting. He killed for money, enjoyed the sport, and despite it all, he found this place to be the most pleasing. Out of habit, he laughed at his own thoughts, giving off one of the only sounds in the desolate town.

“Well…” He turned his attention towards the shack with the small, hand-made apple sign on the front. “I guess there’s nothing else to do.” Walking back into his room (giving a brief nod to the inn-keeper who had eyed him and Sen suspiciously the previous night-but could you blame him? The girl was bleeding and bloodstains were seeping out of the man’s bag-smiling as he did so), he hand-picked some of his finest arrows from his quiver, hoping that whoever ran the shop would be willing to make a trade. Walking back out (and now gaining another odd glance, but hey, this time he had a bundle of arrows in his hands), he stared at the ground as he let his feet guide him to the front door.

For fear of going against one of the village customs (if it had any), Ance knocked on the door, curious as to whether he should just barge in like he would in a high-ranked town, or wait for a reply from inside. Yet there was no answer.

“Al…righty then…” Ance turned and began to pace his way back, when he heard the doors wooden mass go ajar.

“Hey! You with the pointy things!” A voice called out from the shop, it sounding as if it belonged to a youngster. Ance turned, a grin spread across his face as he laughed at the thought of someone referring to his arrows as “pointy things.” There, peering their head out of the opened frame was a young girl with cherry red hair, a barely noticeable pout expression slapped onto her face.

“Excuse me?” He called back, in his oh-so-adult-voice. “I’m sorry, but these are called ‘arrows.’ Would you like to see-“

“-let me see! My mommy runs this place! She’ll take em, make em fine and good too.”

Ance laughed, and to his surprise, he caught the little tomboy thrusting up a middle finger at him, sending him into another brief smile. “Ok then,” he put his hands to his sides, mimicking the girl (he had always been fond of rebellious children…if he could recall, he had been one himself. But the laws of hunter hit him once more. Never become attached. Never. The enjoyment he got out of speaking with her was now diminished), a pout rivaling her own now stapled to his face. “May I speak with your mother then?”

She nodded, her eyes not on him but on the mighty fine ‘pointy things,’ which rest in his clenched fists. She turned and retreated back into the small structure, calling out for her mother, telling her a man with ahroes had come to trade. After what seemed like a minute of hard-to-hear gibberish between the two, a much older women came out, an obvious I’m-not-happy-but-I’ll-pretend-to-be smile on her face. She greeted Ance with the lying grin, and bowed her head, Ance returning the gesture.

“So…” Her voice was calm, yet it sounded dry, as if the women had been previously crying or singing, something to take away the moisture “I presume you’re on a trip? I haven’t seen your face around here before. What do you have for me?”

Ance loosened his grip on his ammunition, holding it up the woman’s face, letting her look over them from a distance. “I’m really just making a hike to El A and back, and I was hoping you could hand me some food to fill me while I go.” He selected one of the finer arrows and held it in his free hand, letting the morning sun reflect off its tip. As he did, he shot a thumb backwards, pointing towards the hut, which was obviously made for selling and (he presumed) buying weapons. “If these do you fine, and you can perhaps sell them for a fair price, I’d only ask enough food for two or so days.”

The shopkeeper looked hard into Ance’s eyes, her gaze shifting back between the arrows and the man himself. And through long years of hunting and experience, Ance knew exactly what she was thinking. Who was this man? Why was he traveling? So on and so forth; the typical passer by looking him on… trying to see what lie behind the shadows of the troubled man. And just as he had done so, so many times before, Ance shifted his gaze to that of a piercing stare, the effect working as the woman caught his eyes and stuttered as she tried to speak again. “Yes…fine…c-come in.”

Ance smiled, bowed his once more (bring back the charm, someone had told him this when he was younger. He could not recall who), and allowed himself into the small shop, eyeing the small shelves as his eyes shifted from left to right, scanning the room for anything which was small yet filling. There were various slabs of meat hidden in a barrel full of ice behind the counter, and lined up behind those were rows of home-made pies, breads, and other dairy products which would be fit for a snack. But Ance needed something, which wouldn’t cause him to slosh about. He turned to the women again, and, once again using his calm gentlemen voice, asked for any apples. She nodded, and walked past him behind the counter where her daughter was staring at Ance, turned a corner, and made a few noises as she dug out the man’s request.

“Here you are…” She came back with a handful of apples, all placed neatly in a leather pouch, the end open as she showed him exactly five. “Does this fit your needs?”

“Yes…” Ance smiled “Yes it does. But I’m afraid I have no money…all I have is-“

“Yes, yes those are fine. One arrow for one apple, I’m sure the payoff at the Ron’s shop would be nice.”

With a few more formal remarks to one another, the trade was made, Ance handing the fair woman five arrows as she handed him a now tie-ended pouch. Ance turned to leave, but before he left, he RED ENGINE GORED ENGINE GORED ENGINE GORED ENGINE GOed his head back at the lady. “Ma’am?”

She looked up, a questionable expression facing Ance.

“It is not my business but…you seem a bit exhausted. Is there something bothering you…?”

She stayed silent for a moment…but with a brief shrug she told him, her voice lowered as if she were whispering, and an obvious sob rising up from her throat.

“My son…he’s been missing for some time. Ran off with a friend of his to Lion’s Arch. I’m not sure if they’re still there, but if they left to somewhere, I’m sure my son would have sent me a letter first.”

Ance smiled, showing sympathy for the loving mother and offering a solution. “Hey…what’s your boy’s name? If I see him, I’ll tell him that his mother wishes to see him.”

The woman smiled, looking up into Ance’s eyes once more. “Thank you very much, sir. My boy’s name is Howard…Howard Nights. Please tell him that I miss him, and that his dear sister hasn’t been the same without him.”

Ance’s skin went pale, and his calm smile suddenly a tensed frown. “I’ll….I’ll tell him if I see him….”

“Thank you sir…” she offered him a free slab of meat, but Ance shook his head, his voice now dry as well. “No thank you, ma’am…I really don’t deserve it.”

With one last word of goodbyes, Ance left the shop, and made his way back to the Inn, thinking on what had just happened. Howard Nights. Howard Nights…oh lord.

Ance looked through his paper, looking over many names and descriptions, finding what he had wanted. Howard Nights…a line crossed through his name. Killed just the night before.

Ance put the thought out of his head. He was a hunter. He didn’t need to care.
…It was her problem, not his.

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Ance brushed his hands through her hair, smiling down at her. She smiled back, lying in her bed, naked, unclothed, a woman of sixteen, her lover of fifteen. She touched his lips with her own, and once again they were making love, the two young adults engaged in furious intercourse. Oh, how they had been so different back then. How Ance had been such a passionate boy, willing to help anyone. But she was waking up, please no lord, don’t let her wake up. She wanted to hold onto this dream, hold on to this past memory. But it was gone. That moment in time where the two had admitted their feelings for one another was gone. And Sen woke up.

“Sen…pst…Sen”

Sen opened her eyes, Ance greeting her as everything came into focus.

“Sen…I need to go to Lion’s Arch ok…I’ll be back.”

She yawned and stretched a bit, but she could still feel the sore by her wound.

“Why…? Are you going to-“

“-Get the pay? Yea. But I’ll be back in a day or two, ok?”

Sen nodded, and watched Ance as he turned and left the room, silently closing the door behind him. She turned to her side, closing her eyes, in the hopes of recovering the dream. The memory when her and Ance had made love. The dream did not return.
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It had been half a day before Ance had reached the gates of Lion’s Arch. He had left early morning, and the sun now seemed to be high in the sky. Night would come soon. Walking forward, he knew that he would be greeted by many merchants, half of which were selling shit to begin with, but it was something he would just have to face. Hearing roars and shouts from inside the city walls, he guessed the punk-ass “warriors,” (as the pathetic RED ENGINE GORED ENGINE GORED ENGINE GORED ENGINE GOs liked to call themselves) were having a mighty fine time, probably taking women home, having their own little victories in bed.

He greeted a guard with a nod, and the Krytan man returned the hello. He was inside now, standing amongst others who had come for their own profits. The roads were packed with men shouting to the top of their lungs of wares and items they had to sell. Punk-ass kids roamed the streets, acting as if they could hold their own in a fight. He caught a warrior thrusting his hip towards a young elementalist girl, her face red, and a whorish grin spread on her face.

Lion’s Arch; where sinners called each other family. Hadn’t someone told him this as well? He didn’t remember.

“Hey, you!”

Ance, just a few inches into the town, had already been selected out as a potential buyer. A short, chubby man waddled over to him, a mask, which seemed more fit for a women covering his face.

“You seem like a ranger, aye? I is got you a nice bow here which I’m sure you’d like. Wanna see?”

Ance grunted and tried to walk past, but the short pig (now pushing it) ran in front of him, holding a horribly made bow out to the Ranger’s face.

“It uh….it tends to pierce through armor pretty well…you know…in case you need to go hunting for any-”

Before he could finish his description, the short man was hoisted up in the air, the bow dropping beneath his feet. Ance held him with two hands, looking up into his eyes.

“Listen, you stupid RED ENGINE GORED ENGINE GORED ENGINE GORED ENGINE GO. I hate this town, and I hate every goddamned person I meet in it. Piss off, and take your goods elsewhere.”

Without another word, he threw the man back on the ground, and walked away. The short man snorted, picked up his bow, and ran off to the next customer.

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Ance had felt guilty for bursting out on the poor fellow, but he had pushed it…then again, he needed to relieve the anger. Relieve the pain of knowing of Howard’s mother…and her worry…and their conversation just before he had left the inn with his bounty.
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“Oh, I see you’re leaving?”

Ance looked back, the shopkeeper who he had previously spoken to now standing out her doorway.

“Yes…I am, need to…to make a trade.” Ance tried to smile, but couldn’t.

“I see. Thank you again, if you see Howard, please tell him that I miss him. And his sister too.”

Ance nodded, and tried to turn, but was stopped once more by the now ever so talkative woman.

“What do you have in the bag? Seems like there’s two boulders or something.”

Ance had went pale, but he managed to give an answer. A lie.
“Just…some huntings. I’m a trader. I trade materials.” He managed a grin this time.

“Ah I see. Whatever it is you do, whatever those items are you sell, best of luck to you. But…sir, I didn’t catch your name. I rather not call you a wanderer who helped me.

“…It’s Ance. But” he finally looked back and looked the lady in the eye. “I only said I would help…if I could…I haven’t done anything yet…”
She looked confused at Ance’s answer, but before she could plague him with more questions, he waved farewell, and walked away, grimacing at the fact. The truth. This lady’s son…her heart…was stuffed away into a bag. Ance’s bounty.

The knowledge of this had made him crazy the whole way here, and he supposed the threat he gave to the merchant was just a way of blowing off the steam. (Don’t lie to me Ance, you know you’re a monster at heart. Who had told him these things?). The hunter did not care…he found an inn (thankfully, this one in better shape than the last), and rented out a room, giving him a place to sleep for the night. He left the heads in the bag for just a little while longer, taking the time to explore the town that he had come to despise. Lion’s Arch; where the sinners had called each other family. Usually Ance would laugh at his thoughts, just to send them away. This time, he did not, and he let the mysterious voice from his past talk to him once more.
It’s a bad place, Ance, that Lion’s Arch. It’s a bad place indeed…
Knowing why he was here, Ance could not agree more.

Chapter Two End.

Ok, I suppose I can carry this little plot on. I hope you enjoyed chapter two, despite the rushed errors which were made (I've been busy with school, sorry.)

Enjoy...

EDIT: What the hell is up with this site? It makes me re-login to post one thing...or just to make a brief edit.

Saox · Mar 07, 2006, 05:23 AM // 05:23

Haven't had much free time. Anyhow, chapter three, pretty short, but still satisfying as the story is only one chapter away from finally being where I want it to be now (yay?). Anyhow, chapter four is halfway done, as it was originally meant to be part of this chapter, but since I thought that would be too long for one post, I just shortened it. Anyhow, here you go...

oh...and as for the ZOMG GORE FILTER GORE GORE X THREE GORE THING11!!!111 That may come up a few times...

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“Please…please…stop…stop, please stop…”

The young man, pleading, eyes a burning red, begged for his mother’s freedom as he watched her body thrust back and forth amongst the feathered bed, the man above her thrusting his hips rapidly as he panted and groaned, gripping his hands around the women’s neck as he did so. The lower portion of his armor had been thrown to the floor, and the buckle he had once used to strap together his armor, was now used for tying his victim’s son down to the chair, where the boy could sit and watch as the man raped his mother to his content. The boy would have screamed, cried for help, but he could only whisper.

“Make one sound…and I’ll cut this bitches eyes out and [email protected] her till she can’t [email protected] breath anymore...you got me?”

The man’s threat stayed with him, and he could only whisper softly, knowing that it was useless, but still hoping that the man may stop…and leave his mother be. But the creaking of the bed, his mother’s limp body as her legs rocked back and forth while the man continued to thrust, only filled him with the sorrow of reality. His mother was being raped, right before his very eyes. There was nothing he could do…

The woman looked over to him, her eyes red, and she managed to speak to her son. She gasped and gagged as she was tossed around like a toy, but she managed to get out her message. Their eyes met, mother and son…and she spoke.

“Don’t…don’t worry Ance…I’m ok…we’re ok…”

The monster above her wringed his hands around her neck and clenched down, cutting off her breathing. He was moving faster now, clenching his teeth, ignoring the fact that his toy was now trying to gasp for air, her face swelling up into a berry blue.

There is an instinct in human beings. Whether it be gut feeling, adrenaline rush, or just the will to persevere, there is that chain reaction in human beings which causes them to act. Ance, forgetting the threat that had just recently been spoken to him, began to scream, began to scream so hard that he believed his lungs would burst. And this stopped it, the climax of the monster’s pleasure, and he turned his attention to the boy.

“What did I tell you…you [email protected] son of a-"

But Ance did not let him finish. Using all the might that had been stored up within him, he stood up, still bound to the chair, and charged the man before him. He turned in midair, hoping to have one of the chairs legs strike the groin of the murderous bastard who had come into their home. Yet he was a boy, and this person, whoever he be, had been trained in the art of fighting.

“I told you, you [email protected] little-“

Ance turned to his side, hopelessly, kicking up his legs randomly at whatever they could find. But the hands that had tied him down now found their overwhelming grip around his ankles, lifting him up from the chair, his long mahogany hair falling down to reveal his forest green eyes.

“You’re a feisty little one, aren’t you? That’s too bad, you could have been one of my men, but- “ The warrior scratched his beard and with one hand (the other still holding up his prey) reached down to his armor, and, after flopping it over, pulled out a knife “- looks like you’ll need to learn a little thing in keeping promises.”

He turned to the woman, an enormous grin now spread across his face, revealing a row of teeth, which looked as though they had belonged to a shark.

“Yea…just keep screaming now…”

He dropped Ance, letting the young man fall on his head, leaving him to lay sideways as he watched the man approach his mother. He walked over to the fair lady, her body motionless on the bed…

“Just keep screaming…it’ll all be over soon, baby…”

No…

A voice.

No…stop it

Ance’s voice, but not the one he had carried as a child.

Stop it!

There’s so much blood…so much blood. His mother…she’s not moving…wake up…please wake up. Her face is fading in, her beautiful face, torn by her sons sorrow.

Another voice…his mothers…

I’m ok Ance…

“Stop it!”

We’re ok…

“Stop it! I’ll kill you if you don’t, you son of a bitch! You hear me! Leave her alone!” Yet no one could hear him, he was all alone, alone in a world not meant for a boy who could love. “Stop it!”

As Ance left the world of dreams, all that were left to hear were the pleadings of a boy, a weak boy…one, which after that day, he would never allow himself to be again.

I’m ok Ance…we’re ok…

His mother’s face, fading away, the lovely smile melting into a liquid as the realm of reality once again began to take over. He would never allow himself to be weak. Not after that day. Never again.
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There was a gasp which came from the room, a man, his shirt off and his mask thrown aside, sitting up in his bed as he gasped for air, taking rapid breaths, slowly beginning to settle down. Ance lifted a palm to his face, feeling sweat drenched along the side. He sighed, putting away the dream, which was now haunting his conscious thought. How old had he been then? Eight? Twelve? Fifteen? He couldn’t remember.

Yet, he had promised himself, that day, to never be so weak again. Looking at where he was now, he supposed that in it’s purity that had been one of the only dreams of his child hood, which had come true. To be strong. To never be weak again. Never.

Looking about, and finally taking in his surroundings (as of late, he had been slower on picking up to his senses. He was getting old), Ance stretched out his arms and yawned, curious as to how he had ended up in his room in the first place. He had told himself that he was going to go explore town, had he not?
Guess the trip was longer than I thought…

Yet, here he lay, in his room, unaware as to what was happening outside the Lion’s Arch Inn. Getting up from his bed (regretting it as the firm cushion now left his back), he walked over to one side of the room, peering out a small hole in the wall, which had served as a window. Outside, there was a silence, which seemed rare for a town such as this. Looking both ways, he saw that much of the giddy youth had departed back to their own homes, and that many of the merchants had left as well. Staring up into the sky, Ance now realized why, as the sun had left for the hour. Night time. He had slept till night. Now realizing the stupidity of this, he supposed he could simply go back to bed, and wait for tomorrow before he – but Sen was waiting back in the other town.

No. He had kept a promise to return in at least two days. This had been one, and he didn’t know how well the trade off would handle with his ‘client.’ He had to go, now, back to the meeting place, the ‘headquarters,’ of where the man he was currently working for waited, like a hound, waiting for it’s pack to return with the kill.

Ance found his clothes tossed to the side of the room (as usual routine had it), and, with swift haste, dressed himself, grabbed the bounty (the blood stains at the bottom had been too much to bear, and Ance had ended up throwing the bag aside, purchasing another in town by distracting the merchant of thinking he had found a good dye buyer, and switched the carrier for his heads), and was off.

He looked about the wooden frame before he left, spotting no one in the lower quarters of the Inn, the chairs empty as they sat silent next to the fireplace, and the beer stall alone as its drunkards were now nonexistent. Not even the innkeeper, who had sat at his perch, taking in customers, was present. Ance supposed that, even in large ass towns such as these, there was always a time for silence. And all in all, he guessed that was all that was really needed.

Walking along now, the bag thrown over his shoulder, his boots clattering against the soft, moist ground, Ance kept his gaze forward as he listened to the center fountain illuminate (in a hearing sense) the night sky, something that was beautiful to listen to, no matter how many times it be heard. For once in a long time, he felt relaxed. There was no sense of being watched, and he felt no need to hold tightly and firmly onto his bow (at this thought realizing he had left it behind, but not truly caring). He watched the sky, counting stars, as he pressed onward, making pictures out of the formations in his head. Silence. This was what truly made him happy. Silence of the world, alone to be with himself. Nothing topped this, not even sex with the most alluring of women could top this. At least, this was how he felt.

Not wanting to become too involved with his own interests, Ance tightened his grip around the sack, tilting his head forward again, and kept his eyes set on the stairs that he now approached. Meet at the docks, turn towards the small outpost of huts, and move aside the row of carts in the third one from the right to reveal a stairway. From there, he would be greeted from one of the payer’s bodyguards. He would be lead to him, they would exchange gifts, and each would go their own way. These were the orders he and Sen were given before they had left to hunt down Both Howard and Marcus, and they would not be forgotten.

Ance blinked, surprised to find himself yawning, but now allowing it to come as he dropped the bag and stretched his arms out as he had when he woke up, taking in a large amount of air and breathing out slowly. His dazed groan mixed in with the ever so pleasant midtown fountain, but soon being drowned out from the flowing water, it became a simple noise of the past. Ance smiled, picked up the sack once more, and carried on. This night had so far, seemed to be going – There was a clattering of armor, sounding as if it were a person in pursuit, the carts which Ance had presumed to be his meeting place being tossed aside, and a series of curses followed by shouts and yells.

Two people running now; Ance dropped his bounty once more, and bent over to pick up his bow, but then remembered that he had left it behind. The sounds were closer now, and Ance was in the open. Cursing himself, he scanned the open plane for anything he could use as cover, but there was nothing close enough for him to run to. With no true options to decide on, Ance stood his ground, waiting for whatever it was taking place to come his way.

Around the split of the rocky shore where he had almost made a turn, a young man with short, sun blonde hair emerged, his face stricken with adrenaline, and his sea blue eyes raged with fury. He caught glance of Ance, peered over his shoulder, and ran towards him as fast as his legs could carry. Ance, again following instinct over common sense, reached for his imaginary bow, only to swear again as he found it not to be by his side.

“Run!” He whispered to the bows man, yet it was a crisp and solid command, not asking Ance to move, but telling him exactly what was going on. Ance heard the clattering of armor pick up speed now, and, without question, he turned to follow the blonde haired boy to the young man’s own hiding spot (whether he had one or not, Ance did not know, but without his weapon, he was useless to do anything else). The two picked up speed together, almost going in sync, eventually ending up hiding low on the ground, hidden behind one merchant’s abandon fish stall (conveniently tied up and secured for the night). The boy, now breathing hard, turned to Ance, and with that commanding voice, again whispered to him in quick breaths.

“Don’t make a sound, or we’re [email protected] Got it?”

Ance did not reply verbally, but instead gave a brief nod, keeping his eyes on the stairs that he had just moments before been walking along. Now waiting for his unseen target to emerge, he watched the boy from the corner of his eye, appraising him to decide on what he was. Judging from the armor he wore, and the gloves he had used to make his hand seems as if they bared claws, it didn’t Take Ance long to realize that he was a necromancer. Yet, he didn’t seem to fit the stereotype. His features were that of a healthy young man, one who constantly found himself to be working out, and of course finding a healthy dose of sunlight. His face was of course, very pale, but this had most likely been due to the running he had just done (the hard breaths he took complimented this theory as well), not out of a bad habit of staying indoors.

Silence was shared between them as they both kept their focus on the stairs, Ance waiting for the unseen pursuer emerge, the kid just keeping his gaze set. He turned back to the bows man and eyed him just as he had been seconds before. Ance returned the stare and frowned through a leather mask, trying to ask with his expression “what?” The boy’s face went pale once more, and suddenly, his head jerked back between the stairs and Ance. “Oh sh1t…you’re with –“

But he could not finish his sentence, for the mystery man in armor had finally emerged, his eyes now scanning the open town. Ance squinted, trying to drown out the other images to find a better focus, and see who this man was. The scruffy chin, the tanned arms with the many battle scars, and the long black hair tied back into a ponytail.
“Ronche...” A whisper escaped Ance’s mouth. The boy looked back to him, his fears confirmed. This man he had hidden with, this [email protected] bastard was one of – Ance stood up before Elx, a young, talented necromancer, could get out another image of what would happen to him.
“Ronche!” The warrior, covered in armor, all for his bare arms, turned towards the unequipped archer who now called his name. He looked at the long mahogany hair, which fell to the figures shoulders, the sand colored armor, which was worn over the chest and legs, and the bag with two lumps thrown to his side. It was Ance. A little late, but he was here, and that was all that mattered.

“Ance” He smiled, waved an arm, and waited for the man to pick up his bounty.

“You do have what we asked for, correct? There is much R.G. waiting for you.”

Ance, such a pathetic dog. Yet he was skilled, or so his boss said. Who cares, if he had the heads, then he would be gone by sunrise, and this acted out “friendship,” between them could be done with. Ance (that fool) gave a smile, turned his head and, from what little Ronche could see, seemed to kick behind the stall two or three times. Why he was standing behind it in the first place, ronche did not –

“You lose something?” The bows man held the hand of a young man, one who now seemed unconscious, and bleeding at the head. The prisoner who had escaped; This stupid dog had caught him.
“Yes…Ance, he’s a rat. Very annoying, seemed to have escaped while-“
“-You should really be more careful with your prisoners, you silly little man.”
Ronche grunted, taking the insults and enjoying a brief daydream of beating the ranger into a pulp. From the moment they had met, both men hated each other, yet both were under the orders to not fight. All in all, he knew that they would both kill each other, given the chance.
“Well then…come, and bring the boy with you. Pegs is waiting.”
He watched Ance, seeing him throw one bag over his shoulder, and dragging the limp body by its arm with the other free hand. It was just here that he noticed that Ance had come without a bow. And this fool still had the nerve to interrupt him.

“Alright…come, it’s best not to keep Pegs waiting. You know this more than anyone.”

He turned and paced back to his base, the cold son of a bitch Ance, straying behind. As they departed, the fountain in the center of Lions’ Arch continued to flow with beautiful melody, as it always had. Ance did not hear a thing. Instead, he looked down at the young boy, his head limp and his body almost gone. He thought of Howard and Marcus, and Sen asking why they had to kill. Ance whispered, to a boy, who had willingly attempted to help him minutes before, a boy who had been betrayed so quickly.

“Ok, I’ll let you live…got it?”
No answer, but Ance knew that in some way or another, he could hear him. He had made the boy dizzy, not unconscious.
“Hell, if I make it out ok…I’ll try and brake you out…it might work…but uh”
Ance laughed, smirking a bit (he had to stay calm and collected around those he did not know. But above all else, he had to stay cold. It was how he was taught)

“Whatever you do, don’t start bitching? Got it?”

Elx coughed, moaned, and fell silent once more. Ance watched him, thinking of Sen, and now, a bit random, thinking of his dream. His mother.

I’m ok Ance…we’re ok…
He had been very proud when he was younger. Perhaps this kid was too. Hell, he may even become a hunter some day.

“I might be the monster in his dream…”

This thought sent a chill up his spine. Yet he had a job to do. Ance grunted, tightened his grip around both the boy and the bag, and headed off. Sen was waiting. He needed to be back soon. And…

“Yea…don’t worry…”

…He had to get this boy out. He made a promise, and despite his old ways, he never broke a truce.

“You’ll be fine…”

Elx, now losing hold of his conscious thought, looked up at Ance, and, with one last breath, moaned two words.

[email protected]

With this, he fell back into the realm of dreams, containing a recent memory of his own monster. A monster named Ance.