Would you like to see more of this?

[HemlockGrey]

After I finish Rays of Fire, I have another idea brewing in my head. Here it is, tell me if you would like more:

As the clocks in Scion struck four noon, I was seriously considering what to do with my life in the immediate future. This is easy in Scion- the shops are always open late, the artsy districts are warm and well-lit and on Sickle Street alone there are eight different shops where you can sip freshly roasted coffee and ponder the grand questions of life well into the night.

Sadly, I was not in Scion. I was not even in the Empire. I was a hundred and sixty miles away from the nearest Imperial borderfort, and the smoke, screams, and bloody chaos that surrounded me did not quite accomodate any sort of philosophical activity.

Around me seethed a vicious, raucous horde of humanity. Twenty spans away a noble line of pikes dueled with polearm-bearing skirmishers. The skirmishers flooded across the bridges, to dance with the line of pikes and drew back, leaving bodies broken and smashed in the aftermath.

The saber in my hand dripped warm red blood. The hard, polished leather and gleaming links of mail that covered my form were obscured by dust and dirt and grit and the dried blood that coated the field. A wound had opened in my left cheek and I could not see for the torrents of sweat that poured forth into my eyes.

To the left and to the right my fellow horsemen strove for victory, hacking and slicing whilst I did the same. The witch-men crumpled under the hooves of my steed and my saber whistled as it arced through the air, slicing open the flesh of the westron soldiers.

A thousand reserve pikemen had been thrown into the battle and they swiftly marched down the winding hills and came upon the battle, their ranks flowing around my troop of horsemen as they pressed themselves against the enemy, driving them back to the bridges of death and the red river of fire, carelessly trampling on the fields of the dead.

I pulled hard on the reigns and turned about my horse to regroup with my fellow horsemen. Out of the very corner of my eye I spotted Eldric Darrelbow, my unlikely friend and ally, laying about with saber and spear.

"Ho! Zane!" he cried, "There is the scent of victory upon the wind!" I do not recall what I screamed back for the next moment I was engulfed by my own company and my thoughts turned to more important matters.

How quicky the fortunes of battle shifted- mine own company now stood at the rear of the fray. The river of fire flowed now thirty spans distant, and the imperial pikes surged back and forth, contending with the enchanted obsidian swords and black daggers of the witch-men. On the west bank the archers of the sorceror-kings drew and fired, speeding great thick wooden shafts with huge blazing heads into the ranks of infantry. From the hills our own archers sped forth their own shafts, lethal and light and tipped with steel.

The captain rode to the center of the company.

"The witch-men have taken the fourth bridge!" he screamed, "And Tralor's men are besieged on all sides! We ride to the relief of the general! FORTH!"

With a great and mighty yell he turned, and I and all his men followed behind.

We reached the third bridge when a tremendous crack echoed in the valley and an orb of searing flame shot across the bank and tore the ranks of imperial steel.

In reply came the resounding salute of the greatest of our cannon as they hurtled shot across the searing river.

We cleared the ditch and made for the beleaguered soldiers, sheathing sword and hefting shield, casting aside the reigns and drawing forth the spears that hung at our horse's sides. We passed a company of riflemen on bended knee, their concentration fierce and their wrath swift and terrible as the clamour of gunshots filled our hears and frightened our horses. A line of swordsmen screamed and fell, tumbling down in a manner that would put the greatest thespians of Scion to shame.

And then, he came.

Dark and terrible, driven like a black arrow from the very pits of Hell he rode forth, heralded by a demonic trumpet that sounded with a shrill and angry shriek that purged the sounds of gunshots from the air. The shadows of the field gathered 'round the rider as he streaked down the field and his lunatic laughter carried like dust in the wind, for his heart was filled with fire and anger and hatred that poured forth into a blazing lance, for whatever touched the lance was smitten with cold grey flames and lay writhing, tossing and turning until all his flesh was ash.

As I watched him charge through the routing imperial ranks, untouched by spear or pike, a thousand men-at-arms trailing in his wake and the most vicious cries escaping from his lips I was deeply touched for I knew now what I- what the armies of his Majesty- faced, and among the curses and screams of the rank-and-file I was faced with a terrible truth.

This man was Vanguard the Mad, and I was going to die.

[Kuja]

Intersting, but don't spread yourself too thin. Focus on one at a time.

[weemadando]

Intersting, but don't spread yourself too thin. Focus on one at a time.

My downfall, I get a cool thought, run with it, then get distracted and start another.

Speaking of which.

DALTON, WHERE THE HELL ARE THE GSDAs?