The Immortals #1 (PG-13)

Hiya! By popular demand I am posting my novel so far. This is the firts part, of the first chapter, and I don't like this at all. I think it was me finding my voice, but others like it. It certainly isn't me at my best. I will post more up in the near future.

Chapter One:
Through Veils of Ash

The ring of men weighed their swords in their hands, slowly backing away from the countless Kalbarcs. Each bearer muttered a silent prayer under their breath to their ancestral Gods. Just the weak circle of exiles, back to back on the summit of Mount Suntary stood between hordes of leather-clad savages and a complete conquest of the known world. The fingers trembled over their weapons, yet no one lowered their defence. Veils of fear and dread swept across their faces, but it was the sudden inspiration of vengeance that inspired strength. Their comrades sought retribution for their friends lying in the crimson snow.

There was no end to the swarms of Kalbarcs, each tearing through the misty pines. The end to the chase was far, and the end to these dark days was even further. Only a bitter ending had been unmasked. Death awaited them.

Overhead, what should have been the product of a shimmering twilight fused into a burnt orange. The Kalbarcs, their nimble purple statures exposed foul stenches that stroke even the rangers, were a closing distance away.

The peak bore no escape. The goblin-like creatures that leapt between obstacles and ledges rapidly closed in. Each leap brought nothing but a pounding heart to the outlaws. They raised their blades for the clash. Sweat and chattering teeth began to overcome them and they neared the verge to succumb to devilry before the front wave skidded to a break in the snow. In turn, the outlaws glanced at one another, not daring to bat an eyelid. A faint crackle sizzled from behind them. Wearily, they risked a sharp glance over their shoulders, unaware of the vista that loomed.

The sight that greeted them boiled their blood and sucked away the breath from their bodies. It presented no malice; in fact, it rekindled their hope. In the centre of the group, a jet black ground had burnt from the ice. Between them all lay barren dust heaps, punctuated by nothing save for the cacophonies of Kalbarc screams. It was not these that the men were gaping at, but the great, raging figure that had arisen from the ground. The Guardian had arrived.

Aedomir and Aganost, standing shoulder to shoulder exchanged a swift glance and turned to the enemy. “Let’s go!” Aedomir cried. After a moment to gather courage, they tightened their grips on their blades. “Now!” They leapt into the air, heaving swords handle first towards the now charging swarms. With a great smash, Aedomir’s sword clashed forward and knocked two Kalbarcs down. Dark blue blood gushed out, and with an instant drive of the blade a third toppled helplessly into the crowd. He felt a scimitar whoosh past his cheek. Guided now, he made for another strike.

Aganost delivered deep wounds but his strength soon began to wane away. Captain of the outlaws, Aganost greeted battle not so easily. Now he began to forfeit to age, but he knew that with Aedomir and the Guardian at his side he would be safe. Bless the lad. Aedomir would give his life to save him, and after all these years, he knew a favour ought to be handed back to him.

Aganost lashed his sword forward and spun sharply round, releasing his momentum in a sudden swipe, knocking a line of Kalbarcs down clean. A row behind these recoiled backwards and a path arose. But a path to what? Kalbarcs were still hurdling from the mist, and the great companionship that had lived with him through his life would be abandoned to die if he left now. The upshot of loyal men fighting alongside him come rain, come retribution. He could not leave his comrades.

After five minutes of battle had passed, Aedomir became aware of the dying men around him. The Guardian would be ready soon… just keep holding… seven minutes… eight... He threw his sword into the air. Two rotten spears broke from the crowd and clashed into the side of his blade. With a fine thrust of his blade, the spearheads cleaved from the shaft and propelled into the mist. Before the Kalbarcs could recover, a slash of Aedomir’s sword had gashed one’s neck and punctured the other’s stomach.

Hey Mark... if you edit this and start liking it, enter it in my beginnings contest!

I'm not going to post a review, 'cause I've done that at least once on YWS.

Ye, you have. . In fact, I will use this opputunity to post the new start of... erm... my novel...

I like Vagabond the best, by the way.

Ye, I am having mixed feelings.

I really like Vagabond and Wayward Always. Vagabond was the name of dodgy French film though...

Ah... Wayward Always is good too, but it REALLY reminds me of LotR/The Hobbit because of Bilbo's song...

Bilbo's song?

The road goes ever on and on, I think

Oh...

Yes, that song.