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Angelklaine

The Summoned - Chapter 1

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Greetings and thanks for taking a moment to read my story!

 

One side of me not known to many is that I am a storyteller. I love to create stories and I have created many. However, those stories have been lost to time on old notebooks that I have never published. I have always been an aspiring writer, but have been to shy to show the world what I create.

 

Well I have found my courage now. My inspiration had been lacking recently, afraid to touch topics I know little about. But last night I decided to turn to something I know and love:Wurm Online.

 

This is my first public work of art. I will be releasing a series of short chapters part of a book about stories that may be familiar to you. Please keep in mind that all characters featured in this story are not real, and any similarities to your characters are not intentional. 

 

If you'd like for your character to be featured in my work, please send me a forum PM and we can talk about it ?

 

Please feel free to post your feedback below! This is my first work, and your opinions and suggestions are valuable and will push me to create more stories for you all to enjoy (if they are enjoyable, I mean!)

 

Without further ado, here is the Chapter 1 of The Summoned.

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The Summoned (Chronicles of the Horde, Book 1)

 

Chapter 1: A New Night

 

The black mass of fungi stretched across the forest. The mass of infected pine trees covered the once pristine and beautiful lands of the massive continent island simply known as Wild by those that live there. It is a war torn land, where different kingdoms find themselves at war against each other. No one remembers how it started or why, but nevertheless it wages on.

 

In the darkness of the night the mass of fungi spreads. It corrupts everything it touches, transforming vibrant green forests into brown masses of infected wood, the trees swaying in perpetual agony. The trees are not dead, no. The Goddess of Libila would not let them die. That would be too easy. They are doomed to hover at death’s door, eternally consumed by the evil that permeates the place.It is said that the howl of the spirits that inhabit these mycelium covered lands can be heard by those who traverse the place, but tonight everything is quiet. The eerie silence is palpable.

 

The sound of breaking branches and crushed leaves breaks the silence of the forest. As the black haired man runs through the mycelium-infested woods the creatures who had made the place their home run away from him. He is a young man, perhaps in his late twenties, with jet black hair falling down to his shoulders. His face sports a short beard close to his face and his body is of medium built. His arms are muscled as someone who works with his hands, and he wears a simple tunic with breaches down to his calf. His bare feet are bloodied from running barefoot along the forest.

 

An exposed root catches his foot and he stumbles, falling on his side. He gets up to his feet quickly and continues running. He keeps looking behind him, wary of something, as he runs straight ahead. His chest heaves as he pants and beads of sweat form on his brow. Slowing down for a moment, he covers his mouth with the back of his hand and gives a soft cough. He slows down for a moment to catch his breath, his eyes wandering about the immediate area. He stops for a moment and cocks his head, listening.

 

 

“This way.” A fully armored figure wearing full steel plate armor and a basinet helmet says. The man, who carries a steel shield and a tabard with the markings of Jenn Kellon, pulls on the reins of his horse. Known as one of the three warring factions, Jenn Kellon controls the north of Wild. Jenn Kellon is ruled by a Grand Prince known by his subjects only as The Dragon Prince who rules his kingdom sternly, demanding loyalty and service from its subjects.

 

“I saw him duck down the ravine, Lord.” says a lithe man with red hair and a clean shaven face. His hair is cropped short and his blue eyes search the forest floor looking for tracks. He wears an embossed set of leather armor with the image of a dragon on his chest, which indicates his allegiance as also of Jenn Kellon. On his left hand is a willow long bow with intricate carvings on its surface, the quality evident for anyone who would care to look, The red haired man pulls on the reins of his brown mare with his right hand, and moves his horse next to his companion.

 

“Nonsense, he went through the woods. I saw it with my own eyes.” says the armored man as he turns his horse around. But his voice was not as convincing as it was before. “No lord. He did not. Remember what you said last time. We followed your suggestion and we lost him.” The red haired man responded.

 

The armored man looked at the forest. Although he was at the edge of the mycelium, he could sense the nervousness of his mount. Mycelium has been known to corrupt even creatures, although how the process happened was unknown to the people of Jenn Kellon. Warriors of the Kingdom have been known to traverse the mycelium infested lands before with no one worse for wear. But they don’t often willingly traverse it, entering mycelium infested lands as a last resort. “It's not worth it anyways. He was unarmed and unarmored. It must have been a farmer, nothing more.”

 

The red haired man turned his horse to face in the direction they came. “The Horde has no need for farmers, my lord. They feed from the disgusting fungus that covers their lands, or so the reports say.” He begins to slowly walk his horse away, knowing the armored figure will follow. The armored man turns his horse after him. “You know what I mean, Vlad, whatever that man was, he was no warrior. And I am not taking a risk wading on the mycelium for a brick chipper.” Vladnor noded his head and they both rode north.

 

 

The black haired man dropped to his knees. He remembered very little of what happened, his mind fogged by recent events. He remembers the pain of fire coursing through his veins and an insatiable hunger. He remembers men chasing him with pitchforks, torches and blades, and he remembered blood. Blood everywhere. He doesn’t know how he got here, or how the armored knight and his companion had found him. What he remembers is escaping by the skin of his teeth.

 

Kneeling on the soft mycelium covered ground, his hand scoops a handful of the white silky substance that covers the brownish infected grass. He brought it to his eyes and examined it. It had a sweet scent that beckoned to him. His nostrils flared and he brought it to his lips. Within a short amount of time, he took another handful and consumed it as well.

 

He thought nothing of it at first, but he suddenly stopped as he thought about what he was doing. His hands were trembling, and his skin felt as it something was crawling underneath. He planted his hands on the ground, bracing himself for what felt would be the embrace of death, a poison coursing through his veins and reaching for his heart. But it never came. The trembling subsided, and he felt a rush of energy coursing through his veins instead.

 

The black haired man stood up, his eyes now focused, alert. He looked at his hands and bare feet and noticed the open wounds and bruises were gone. But so was the mycelium. Where he stood the forest had returned to its former beauty, the infection gone and the green grass restored. He carefully stepped away from the green grass, a frown forming on his brow. But as he watched, he saw the mycelium reacting. Tendrlls of corruption seemed to slightly move on the edges, locked in eternal battle with life itself. It may take hours or it may take days, but the black haired man knew the mycelium would win.

 

The black haired man lifted his gaze from the battle at his feet and took measure of his surroundings. He was invariably lost now, but he knew he was home. Nothing else matters. A smile formed on his face, showing the pointy end of a single sharpened canine.

Edited by Angelklaine
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