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Post by Nuyori on Feb 24, 2016 18:16:35 GMT -5
Charred Life - World Royale - Bodyguard Series
Genres: Fantasy, Action, Adventure Style: Short Story Prose
Info: This series is a side story of "Charred Life", another story of mine. It takes place in another world than where the main characters are from. The stories follow three characters as they enter World Royale on similar jobs, but in different areas of the world, as bodyguards.
I. Part Ron II. Part Kate III. Part Nick
I will be posting each part in sections since they are rather lengthy.
Without further ado - here is the first of the stories:
Charred Life: Bodyguard Part Ron Chapter 1.1 The builders seemed to have used more stones than people when building the Town of Oschelar. Stolid looking soldiers lined the solid bridge leading to the stoic arc entrance. Each static figure carried a pair of daggers, a sword, and a 3-point halberd.
"Hoods seem to be a thing," Ron muttered under his cowl. Not only the guardsmen, but several townsfolk traversing across the bridge were hooded. Notably, the more dangerous looking fellows strolling about wore the more decorated head coverings. "Guess I fit right in."
He passed through the gates unhindered, emerging into a rather active thoroughfare. The crowd noises though seemed to shrink under the imposing silence of the fortifications. Ron glanced with his eyes. Market stores, trinket shops, butcheries lined this street it seemed.
"Good day." An older woman stopped at an open bakery. "I trust you are doing well today?"
The shopkeeper already was bagging pastries for her. "As usual. What about yourself?"
"Keeping well." The lady perused her wrist bag. "But not doing as well as I used to - oh!" Several coins slipped from her fingers. Before she could reach down, a hand caught hers, turning it upward gently as it placed the change in her palm.
"There you go." The young man closed her fingers and passed on. "Careful. Good day."
"Ah..." The woman blinked in surprise. "Why thank...you." Turning to look at the figure, she scanned the crowds in confusion, to find the young man absent.
"Who was that?" The shopkeeper leaned over the counter in equal surprise.
"Why...why I'm not sure." The lady handed him the money. "Everyone seems to want to hide their faces these days. It's a shame really. Are folks so afraid of the own looks now?"
"Most have a reason, nowadays," the youth lined up behind her responded. He signaled the baker his selection. "You're pretty bold to be showing yours, auntie."
"I have nothing to hide." The lady straightened her back with dignity. "I'm too on in years to be doing that. But people must be protecting themselves now, yes."
"Good day, ma'am."
"Good day."
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Post by Nuyori on Feb 29, 2016 16:10:14 GMT -5
Update: Chapter 1 part 2 posted. I hope to update the parts every 5 days hopefully. Chapter 1 will be kept to the first post. If you have any questions about the story, feel free to ask! Chapter 1.2 Further down the thoroughfare, armour and weapon stalls, blacksmiths and jewelers narrowed in on the denser crowds. Ron slowly moved past tall able-bodied men striding to business, mothers smiling sweetly at their young children yanking on their arms as if puppies on a leash, and stray animals posed wherever they liked, at whatever they liked.
"That looks like the guild." Ron looked up. A bold red flag fluttered between taller business buildings. Another cryptically hooded figure slipped by Ron and he noted the red patch stitched onto the left arm. "Several members huh...I fit in but stick out..." He moved on.
The hooded man halted and turned in alert movements. His eyes caught the motion of the young man he'd just passed with curiosity. He gazed as that person slowly moved away through the people. The man's feet shifted, walking back in the direction they had come, "Black hooded uniform with a metallic blue trim...and no guild patch," he observed trailing closer. "Is he trying to get to the Oschelar Guild?" Nearly right behind the stranger, the man could discern a distinct mumbling.
"If the guild is there, then the community centre is nearby..." The hooded stranger glanced up, maybe at the flag. "And the castle is beyond that..."
The guild member perked instinctively, his hand sliding to his pocket.
"Alright."
The stranger stopped suddenly, forcing the man to turn aside to a shop abruptly, as if browsing the wares. He settled his gaze on the objects before him. Then cautiously in the young man's direction.
"Ah!" His eyes widened and he swung his head to see the whole street. He was not deceived. The hooded stranger was nowhere to be noticed on the road. He jogged to where he'd last sighted him, pulling out a small hand-held object which he raised to his face.
"Orval reporting from Fallyre Thoroughfare in Area 12," the man breathed, stopping on the position. "Suspicious person un-guilded was heard mentioning the castle but last seen in Area 12. Appearance is a young man in a black hooded cloak with metallic blue trimming. Area 12 Units and those in the vicinity to keep an eye out for suspicious person..."
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Post by Nuyori on Mar 5, 2016 11:31:10 GMT -5
I change my mind. I'll just make it one post each. Chapter 1.3 Ron emerged from a quiet alleyway right on an avenue congested with people to the walls. He eyed all the commotion and he then recognized a wide strip of road was clear right down the middle.
"Can you see him?!" A couple of young women stood on a raised doorstep, craning their necks.
"There - there!!" One threw an arm to Ron's right, motioning up the broad avenue.
So he looked there, from his back seat position, yet he could clearly see what was being regarded.
A metallic burgundy-coloured carriage of wide berth entered the avenue, pulled by a magnificently large red stallion decked in dark livery. Four mounted horses of black escorted the carriage at its four sides ridden by those same hooded figures bearing the Red Patch.
The two women stepped off their perch all of a sudden, and without warning, the assembly, rather than erupting in cheers, lapsed into a reverent silence. Ron blinked, going quiet with the folk and folding his hands in front as they did. He noticed that as the carriage came on, the people nearest to it would bow, rising when it fully passed.
Approaching, the carriage appeared to convey only two beings: the coachman, and standing in the open coach, a ... boy. A child? No, he was already of tall stature, yet youthful in his countenance. A well-dressed lad with cultured light brown hair and eyes, regarding the crowds levelly, neither frowning nor smiling -
Ron inclined his body forward with the rest, the figures hidden from view for a moment. Eyes aimed at his boots, they caught a glimpse of another pair of feet behind him.
"Suspect located. Train passed. Proceeding to engage." The hooded man raised his body as the carriage moved on. "Lewin, out." He set the communicator back into pocket, eyeing the figure before him poising with the crowd.
... the carriage exited the avenue. And as if a music box opened, the crowds released their look and moved about, regular conversation rising to max as it had originally been... and the hooded stranger yet gazed after the departed escorted coach.
"He's young, isn't he? Our ruler," Lewin spoke up. The figure started and turned to look at him.
"How old is he?" came a pleasant deep voice.
Lewin noted the young face, northern complexion, dark eyes. "Fourteen this year. Some argue that he's unfit to be ruler."
"Yeah, I understand that..." Ron scanned the other fellow. Dark brown hair, green eyes, wary look...
"It's common around here. but several of the other rulers want him down, or dead even." Lewin watched the unmarked man's expression. Thoughtful and interested. "They've sent their guilds here, I suspect."
"What's Oschelar's Main Guild called?" Ron glanced down the road and stepped into the alley, across the other.
Lewin chuckled, "Just Oschelar Guild." He could see several curious points on the young man's garb, suggestive of weapons. Mercenary? "Say, you're not from Oschelar?"
"I'm traveling. The name's Ron, by the way."
"Lewin, from Oschelar Guild." They shook hands. "Take care, Ron. If you need any help, just drop by the Oschelar Guild. We're located near the town centre. We've an info desk, and you can always hire a guide."
Ron straightened with a nod. "Thanks Lewin." He gave a slight bow and the guild man walked off briskly.
"Lewin reporting. Suspect not forwarding hostility. However keep tabs. Suspect name Ron. Confirmed armed northerner exhibiting interest in the castle..."
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Post by Nuyori on Mar 10, 2016 10:51:02 GMT -5
Chapter 1.4 Two roads led from the castle and they ran on either side of the thoroughfare. Ron glanced at the two ends of one of those paved stone roads.
"The castle is that way....but the prince went that way..." Ron shifted on his feet, glancing. "Judging on Lewin's kindly given info, more attempts have been made...I'd better get to him first." He breathed in slowly, pulling his hood lower, and slid a visor down over his eyes that had been hid in his hair. A pat to his side produced a metal clink.
"Ohh~ cobblestone streets leading to my love on an Eschellipse night..." the young baritone ecd away in the lonely alley.
"...sitting alone waiting for me under a chandelier light..."
"Pardon, my liege?" The black-clad coachman glanced back.
"Nothing, Silvestre. It's a cool windy day today." Shaking off coat sleeve, the boy in formal dark blue attire seated himself on the carriages pale red cushions.
"Do you not like it, my liege?"
The boy looked over the silent streets. "It carries unwanted mutterings to my ears."
"Shall I tell the guild to...?"
"No, it is not unusual."
Silvestre was silent for a moment. "Would you not wait for your Protector? He is to arrive today..."
The boy snorted. "I doubt such a small deal would require such inconveniences. Let us haste to that place."
"Of course, my liege."
Street after street the coach rattled over. The colorful structures passed on to plain looking but quaint domiciles on to what might be called shabby but respectable buildings. The party here halted before a red brick edifice, it's facade dull and chipping, yet it's framed windows in pristine condition.
The doors opened. A hooded man in dark brown stepped down the open porch, arms opened in a formal gesture while two maids in paper yellow uniforms stood on the threshold.
"Welcome, my liege, Prince Nicolao." The man and maids bowed. "The Red Brick Inn."
"Thank you for taking us." The boy stepped down from the carriage and inclined his head. Silvestre dismounted as well and with a nod, sent a guild member with the carriage to the stables.
Another guild member followed as they entered the inn. A counter beset by staircases face them immediately, a luncheon room to the left and bar with a billiards table on the right. Few persons lounged in either at this time of day.
"This way, my liege." The innkeeper led them to the left.
The boy, Nicolao, noted three individuals seated sparsely among the round tables other than the four kitchen staff standing by for service. A particularly larger table rested in the centre of the room. And facing the royal prince on its other side were three grown men. Nicolao raised his hand to them, and seated himself across as Silvestre pulled the cushioned high back chair for him.
"You've requested that we meet here." The boy leaned forward, resting his head on his right arm, relaxing his left as he crossed his legs. "To discuss the terms where you, the Rebelle Guild, would withdraw your attempts of assault if I agreed to them."
The one facing him, a broadly built man with stiff graying hairs on his voluminous head, gazed intensely at the boy. "Exactly. I am Grenouille, leader of the Rebelle Guild. You see, my liege, we are yet a poor..."
Nicolao drooped his eyelids, resisting the urge to frown, How can you say 'my' liege if you refuse to acknowledge me? Hypocritical man. His eyes wandered over the room. Why couldn't you have just sent a diplomatic letter if you're dissatisfied? One of the other individuals in the room, a young man by the looks of it though he was hooded, glanced their way, If you're dissatisfied then just leave Oschelar. We may have power since we're rich, says Silvestre, but can only do so much.
The hooded individual by the window glanced their way again, only slightly upwards this time. Nicolao followed the gaze...and noticed the glass chandelier hanging above. There's so much you people don't see...
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Post by Nuyori on Mar 15, 2016 10:40:28 GMT -5
Chapter 1.5 A Red Patch member, the prince boy, and his coachman were discussing some inaudible matter with the three rough looking men across from them. Ron caught little snippets of words, "assault", "terms" , "agree", "poor"...
"What am I doing here..."
On the small square tabletop before him rested a white paper detailing information about his reserved room at the Red Brick Inn. Higher ups always seemed to like to hide the most important specs out. If Kinan had told me that kid would be coming here, I would've arrived earlier...
Ron watched the curious gathering, eyeing the young boy in particular. The kid was sitting straighter now. The Red Patch even more so. The coachman spoke to the other party now, in place of the kid. The man from the other party appeared to be thoughtful, nodding from time to time.
Ron glanced behind him. The two other individuals were reading a newspaper and having a coffee. They were not very notable, wearing hoods and bearing arms...although that didn't seem unusual anymore. In fact, the young princey boy look as if he were uncomfortable with that metal barrel pressing against his side...
"I can agree with those terms." Nicolao's voice rose as he stretched his left arm and shoulder, thinking, Whatever they had been. Silvestre does not seem perturbed, so they must've been of trivial specialty. "You have a document for...?"
The Rebelle Guild members looked pleased. "Of course!" They produced three files.
Ron narrowed his eyes at them, picking up his papers and stashing them in his coat. Imposing silence accompanied the sifting of papers. The lead Rebelle member, Grenouille, flicked out a pen and began to hand one document to Nicolao.
The Red Patch reached for it instead. Grenouille angled the page to pass it to the guild member, the pen in his hand shifting. Red Patch grasped the paper, and the Rebelle's finger brushed against the clip of the pen cap - pressed down.
A stream of liquid splattered directly into the Red Patch's face - the man recoiled and a scream suddenly burst from his lips as he clawed frantically at his face. Nicolao knocked back his seat as he shot violently to his feet, full indignation in his expression as his eyes darted from his guard to -
The air rushed by the boy, turning his shocked gaze to the left. Silvestre's body tumbled down, dripping red, a dying yell from the man's throat.
"Silvestre - " Nicolao gasped, his breaths rising erratically. He glanced at Rebelle, who now aimed a large barrelled pistol at the boy. "Traitors!"
"If you were listening carefully." The Rebelle leader's smirked widened cruelly. "These were our terms exactly - if you don't step down from that position, we'll execute you here and now."
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Post by Nuyori on Mar 20, 2016 11:51:24 GMT -5
Chapter 1.6 It was a given that stone made people have stony silences. The different grade of stone seemed to carry differing weight to it and the tension in the Red Brick Inn was crimson indeed. The brute man held a young child at gunpoint and his two henchmen aimed their sights at the other individuals of the room. Namely, two customers, four kitchen staff, and Ron.
This is bad. Ron braced himself by the window seat, on his feet since the Red Patch was squirted with acidic poison. That man lay still now, face scarred by the liquid. The kitchen workers stood frozen with fear, and the other two customers regarded the scene from the back of the room.
The doors and windows are closed, the Guild guards outside may not have heard the commotion since that man has a silencer on his gun. Ron took his breaths slowly, eyes darting about.
Nicolao could feel a strange tingling sensation pricking throughout his whole body, trembling in his chest, beating with his heart. Wide eyes fixed on the Rebelle members, he ground his teeth, not feeling the will to run in his legs. What? Why? Why?! Why do this you scoundrels! I would've give you anything had you not done this! I won't give you anything now! Nothing you ask! And if you shoot me now - you'll never get what you want in the end anyway!
The silence in the room changed, Ron felt. The flickering red was shifting, starting from the boy in the middle of the room. Like the burner fire on a stove, controlled heat rising towards a stubborn icy hot blue.
It's coming. Ron closed his eyes. Five.
"Step down?" A tone of incredulity rang through the room. "You dare suggest a thing?"
"Do you want a little encouragement?!"
Nicolao saw the trigger pull and flinched in a spark of alarm. A silent bullet sailed past his face, grazing his cheekbone. He gasped, staggering.
He actually shot...Ron opened his eyes, gaze drawing to the tear of red on the boy's face. Four.
"You...you actually think I'd abdicate for you near sighted fools?" Nicolao found his voice shaking.
The quaking of that voice...blue flames flared higher. Three.
"You ancestor's chose my family to rule over them and without us - where do you think you'd be now?!"
"You incompetent child!" Two.
"Incompetent beggar! You'll be paid retribution for your crimes! Step down?!" A smirk stretched itself upon the boy's face. "Shoot me then! I would rather die than submit to your terms'."
One.
Rebelle's eyes smoldered in the waves of pride radiating from the child. "We gave you a chance! Let's see who'll pay now! Die you shall!"
Zero!
Ron dove forward in a roll, throwing a small round ball at the three men. The round table suddenly flipped up in their faces, smashing their noses when a blinding flash and bang burst from below.
"Cover your ears." A deep voice and strong grip around his waist arrested Nicolao's mental processes. Yells and ringing filled his hearing as he struggled to force his face away from the solid body in his face. A single glimpse saw the glint of a long barrelled pistol and his hands flew to his ears.
The roar of ignited gunpowder and splintered glass were only slightly muffled in this contained dining room, erupting in a flurry of blinded scrambling men groping for their weapons. Nicolao felt his feet depart from the ground in a forward rush that left him breathless. Noise vaporised behind quickly as he felt a change in the atmosphere - surprised cries sounded from in front.
"M'lord Oschelar!" Guild members stationed in front of Red Brick Inn started in alarm seeing the black hooded stranger holding the prince. "You! Who are you?!"
"It's not over yet," Ron gasped as he landed. "Hold on, kid." He lifted an arm under the boy's legs and sprinted into the alleys across the street.
"Halt!" the Red Patch guild members started after them. "All units to Area 23, Remrey District! Nicolao Oschelar is in the hands of a mercenary armed with a gun - "
Bursts of gunfire startled them. The left side windows of the inn shattered outwards. The personnel ducked in a frenzy, swiveling to face another enemy. Yelling murder and curses, three burly men tumbled from the windows, flailing violently.
"Get the brat! Get him Rebelle! Kill him!" The lead Rebelle man waved his pistol, firing at random.
"It's Rebelle Guild!" The Red Patch Oschelar members dove into cover. "Halt them here! Find the prince! Hurry!" The Rebelle men let out roars, charging at the other party. The Oschelar started as several others poured out of the opposite alleys in numbers larger than theirs.
"Get back! Retreat!!" Oschelar threw several flash bombs at Rebelle. "Reinforcements to Area 23! Find the prince! Move!"
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Post by Nuyori on Mar 26, 2016 10:29:55 GMT -5
My apologies for the late part. Yesterday was a busy day. Chapter 1.7 Gunshots and yells sounded afar off. Footfalls ecd in their ears as Ron skirted swiftly through the empty red brick back alleys. The weight in his arms gripped his cloak tensely, breathing shakily.
"You're heavier than Nanik," Ron muttered under pants. "Hang in there. I'd like to bring you straight to the castle, but that's kind of far right now, since I'm not allowed to use that."
"...down." A feeble gasp sounded.
"Eh? What's that?" Ron's head twitched at the sound of cries nearing them.
"Put me down this instant!" The boy forced a panicked plea.
Ron opened his mouth when several figures came across their street exit. "Kuh, here's where things get messy. Stay here. And I mean stay here."
Nicolao found himself standing but was roughly shoved into an empty structure. He swiveled breathlessly, catching onto the table inside. Through the open window he caught a glimpse of the young man in black stand in the path of five men, their ragged garb notably of Rebelle.
"What is he doing?" Nicolao sunk to the floor near the door, catching his breath, "Where is the Oschelar Guild?" His body felt strained, trembling at the shoulders. He clutched his arms. "Rebelle...the rebelle...they....they shot Silvestre..." His eyes widened, remembering the body collapse beside him. "They're going to shoot me..." Nicolao felt his throat tighten. "What am I even doing here - they're going to shoot that man too - and then they'll kill me." His vision went blurry. "I... I don't want to die here..."
Five rough and broad looking men came tramping down the road towards Ron, brandishing knives along with guns. He threw back the left side of his coat, exposing the hilt of a short blade attached to his thigh. Two men halted, raising their pistols, and fired. Ron flicked out his weapon in a slash and two distinct pings rang out. The other three ran at him, swords drawn. He dashed for them, quick on his feet, ducking a slice while sliding his blade across the back of another's legs.
"One down." Ron jumped up, riding on the shoulders on the leading Rebelle when that person went slack from a couple of bullets in his back. "Two down, watch the friendly fire, fellows," he engaged in a clash with the third blade man's hilt, ducking the blade as he grabbed the man's wrist, skidding underneath his legs. He released hold, cleared the gap, and twirling, smashed his hilt on the man's skull. "Three down - " Rolling aside to avoid bullets, Ron sheathed his sword. "And four." A hollow bang sounded and the gunner staggered, crying out. Ron brought the gun out, blowing imaginary smoke from the barrel.
"Oh wait. One - two - three - four..." He swiveled and prepared to fire. The man's back faced him. Ron darted forward at him quickly, grabbing the back of his collar and knocking him out with a handle smack.
The man fell...and Nicolao looked up at the young man stashing away his weapons, and shivered.
"Hey, we have to keep moving." Ron reached down a hand but the boy withdrew, shaking his head. "And you're more adamant than Kate. Come on, it'll be safer when we reach the castle."
"Who are you?!" Nicolao back away as the hand was held out to him again. The stranger's hood had blown off during the fight, and his youthful features were now exposed. Nicolao couldn't place an age, but he couldn't have been twenty yet.
"I'm...well, I'm Ron." The young man stepped forward. "You can call me Ron."
Nicolao stood up, retreating to the other side of the table. "Who...who do you work for?" His hands and legs were still shaking. "You've neither a patch or emblem."
"I haven't got one yet."
"Are you a...plebeian?"
"Commoner? No, I wouldn't say that of myself..."
"What do you want of me?" Nicolao locked eyes with Ron. He wasn't sure of what he saw in the other's gaze. "You can just tell me. I am the ruler of Oschelar. Nothing is over my power - "
"Kid, you can't even stop this conflict." Ron gestured impatiently. "I don't want something of you. I need your cooperation. We need to get you back to the castle or somewhere safer, that is. " He held out his hand again.
"But, what are you? Why should I believe you?" Nicolao stepped back further.
Ron clapped a hand to his face. "We don't have time for..." He stiffened suddenly. The next thing, Nicolao saw him whip out his gun towards himself. He ducked instinctively, covering is ears. A bang and yell deafened him for the moment, when a strong grip propelled him forward.
"Get out!" Ron barked, fairly throwing the boy out the door. The sound of the table smashing brought his attention to the wrestler looking man that had somehow ninja-ed himself behind Nicolao a few seconds ago from the next room over, fists raised to maw the Oschelan Prince.
"You've got a long way to go, Nico," Ron breathed, dodging a swift punch at his chest. He rolled to the other side of the hulk, nicking the rouge's ankle. The Rebelle roared, staggering. He stumbled around to face Ron, snarling. "Yep at this point these guys are more powerful than you, kid."
"Actually..."Ron's eyes widened as he saw gunpowder rolls strapped to the man's vest, "They are too overpowering for themselves..." He turned on his heels and dashed for the back of the building. "Just a bit."
His hand reaching out, Ron heard the stomp of the following brute - the switch of a flaming wick. The man entered the room and Ron instantly splashed him with water from the kettle sitting on the stove. Startled, the Rebelle glared at him for a second, before a nasty grin broke onto his face. Ron glimpse the unmoistened pistol in his opponent's hand - aiming at the barrels for some reason stacked at the other end of the room.
There sounded a bang. He saw the blinding orange flash, felt the impact of the heat wave bashing him against the counter top behind him. Fire washed over him, roaring, when the crash of the collapsing building filling his ears.
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Post by Nuyori on Mar 31, 2016 9:56:32 GMT -5
Chapter 1.8 (Final Part) "My liege! Get away from there!"
"Prince Nicolao! Are you alright?!"
Strong arms supported the young noble as he gazed up at the smoldering structure, eyes holding a dazed expression. He attempted to stand on his own, and it was the only thing he could do. The fire engulfing the structure lashed out to the neighbouring buildings as screams broke out, alerting the whole area. The Oschelar personnel hurried about, contacting other members, the constables, the fire department - medical aid, and rounding up the Rebelle members lying unconscious on the ground.
Nicolao snagged the nearest standing Oschelar guild member. "A-ah, hey - there's still someone in there - "
The man glanced at the inferno, shielding the boy. "Sir, I don't think anyone could've survived that - we need to get you back to the castle."
Nicolao's grip tightened. "What of Silvestre - my steward?! What about him?! I...is he okay?!"
"Calm down sir. Let's get you to safety. The Rebelle forces are still - "
"Rebelle - !" Nicolao scowled. "It's their fault - " He let go, staggering against the wall.
"Prince Nicolao!"
The boy slumped to the ground, teeth gritted. He felt heat in his eyes, burning. A rage hotter than orange flame pulsed through his head. Rebelle's fault: charge of 3 accounts of murder, and several attempted murders of the Oschelan Prince. They would pay. Nicolao heard the voice in his mind. They would receive their due punishment.
He closed his eyes, weak and tense. "I couldn't prevent it. I'm sorry. You tried to help me. I couldn't stop anything!!"
Confused cries rang throughout the street. Gunshots and mental pings. Rebelle was closing in again...
"There's....there's someone there - ! It's that - that mercenary!"
Nicolao's eyes flew open. What? That mercenary? Which one? A flash of black caught his eye and they all saw the figure of the young man drop between them and a band of Rebelle's approaching. Breathless yet disbelieving amazement caught Nicolao in a surprise yet relieved expression.
The figure turned. Ron caught Nicolao's eye. He pointed at himself. What? Nicolao gaped. The man's face was bruised and bleeding, but he smiled as he gave a thumbs up. What?!
"E-everyone hold!" he barked quickly before the Red Patch could act towards Ron.
"But sir - "
"Just - just leave it to him! The -the-the fire needs to be put out quickly!"
"Yes sir!"
"Looks like he's getting the hang of it," Ron panted, facing forwards again. "Now if you guys would just leave, maybe you'll start getting it too."
15 men in total stalked towards the slender figure, as if not hearing him. Ron placed a hand on his blade hilt, and thirty eyes locked on to him.
"That's what I meant." Ron drew out his weapon, inciting five of the men to rush at him. "Or maybe you didn't - maybe I should elaborate on that - " His other hand whipped out pistol, grazing the impending attackers with rapid fire, and they collapsed, crying out.
The remaining ten were halted by one of their own who stepped forward.
"Oh, you're still alive and active?" Ron re-aimed his sights to the air.
Grenouille, leader of the Rebelle Guild, held out his hands towards Ron, smiling crookedly. "Why, if I remember, our acquaintance from the inn."
Ron waved airily back at him. "You can give up now, y'know."
Grenouille suppressed a scowl. "I don't want to dispose of such promising skill and talent, of such a young one as well, so I think I'll advise you the same.
"I don't - "
"I know we don't have much right now, but once that brat is off, we can give you position of say....military general? Thing you want - only when Rebelle has the throne."
Ron looked at the man, a strange expression on his face. "Is that your queen?"
Grenouille started, scowl evident. "That's my guild - Rebelle Guild!"
A smirk stretched itself across the young man's face. "Haven't heard of it," and then it dropped, "I bet you haven't heard of mine either. But before you say me what that is, lemme just say some of your guys just tried to kill me. I've seen yourself cold-bloodedly kill and harm - goes to show..." Ron holstered his gun. "You are clearly unfit to be in any position of leadership since you don't understand the value of people's lives."
Grenouille roared, brandishing his gun at the young man, "Kill him!!"
Bang - ping! - BOOM.
A massive black ball rocketed from another of Ron's pistol's, exploding at the Rebelle's feet in a thick black cloud. Ron slapped a black device to his face that covered it completely, and dove into the smoke.
"What is that?!"
"Another fire?!"
The Oschelar Guild started at the smoke bomb cloud. Nicolao stared wide-eyed as well. But as he suspected, that man, Ron, wasn't to be underestimated.
"Who is that?" murmurs ran through the guild members.
"Isn't that that suspect from earlier?"
"But he's not suspect anymore..."
Nicolao, cordoned by Guild members, watched as the fire diminished and again saw the flash of black appear from the smoke. He got up quickly and shoved past the personnel.
"Sir - !!"
"Ron!!" Nicolao ran towards the young man. There was nothing to suspect about him. Rather...
Ron saw the red uniforms of the Red Patch members and started towards them when the street suddenly swirled before his eyes for a moment...and then it went back to normal. And then next he saw the kid running towards him, and coughed, "No hugs. Seriously. All this work piled on me the first day albeit not a regular day. I should've eaten breakfast this morning. Get back to the castle for goodness...." Movement from the side arrested Ron's vision. He shook his head, but it was not imagination this time.
Crack - !
The brick on the burnt building shifted, and the top of the structure began to cave in. Ron's feet acted to what his eyes saw, and his arms reached out in response, brain tingling sharply as the debris plummeted toward the running child.
"Aw man - ! So much trouble - !"
Ron's hands contacted, grabbing Nicolao. He brought the boy under his cover just as the brick barraged upon them.
"Prince Oschelar!!"
Sharp stings struck Ron from all over. The pain already throbbing throughout his scalded body was pounded further in, shocking him. But his legs moved, leaping into the air above the falling debris. He landed by the surprised personnel.
Light and vision came back to Nicolao, dazing him for a moment, loud noises around disorientating him further. He thought he saw Ron's face, dirty and bloody as it was, smiling from above. But then the figure swayed, and went slack, crumpling sideways to the ground.
"Ahh..."Nicolao froze, dread creeping into him seeing the young man down. "H-hey!"
"You're still young, so at least listen to your elders," a weak voice came up to the boy's ears. Nico knelt down by the young man, unheeding to the flurried activity around him. "Anyhow, just one last thing..." Ron's hand moved within his coat, holding something...but then that too went limp.
"Ron?" Nicolao gasped. Hands clasped his shoulders, others turning the body of the young man up, when Ron's hand fell out, snagging an object with it that rolled to the ground.
An Oschelar Guild member picked it up. He looked at the unconscious form of the stranger and at the white parchment rolled and sealed with blue in his hand.
"Lewin, what is it?"
Nicolao found the paper being handed to him. He took it, glancing up at the member.
Lewin aided another in picking Ron up. "Keep it, your majesty. We'll find out what it's about when we get back. Your safety is our top priority right now."
Nicolao looked up at him blankly, then down at the parchment. He heard the clomping of horse hooves and he was suddenly lifted up into a saddle, a Red Patch behind him.
Lewin mounted a second horse, "Hey, can you hold on?"
"Oh, it's you, is it?" Ron slumped against his back. "I am exhausted. Are you really going to ask more of me..." He raised a slow arm and circled it around the other's waist.
Lewin grabbed onto it, handling the reins single handedly. "Good enough." He started forward at a trot. "I'm bringing this man to the castle as well - tending his injuries as a priority," he notified the other members. "Suspect status update..." he breathed to himself as they accelerated, "to the Prince's Protector."
"Oh, why thank you for the update," Ron muttered.
"You should've told one of us when you arrived, sir. We might've been able to back you up better."
"Don't think so. If the bad guys knew I were here, they might've acted faster. That's be more troublesome..."
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Post by Nuyori on Mar 31, 2016 10:02:34 GMT -5
So concludes Part Ron of Charred Life: Bodyguard.
I hope you enjoyed it.
- - -
In regards to Part Kate, I will not be posting it for a while, but hopefully not for a long while.
Until then I may be working on some other writing. So stay tuned!
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Deleted
Deleted Member
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Post by Deleted on Apr 7, 2016 20:00:42 GMT -5
Read it at last. Here's a quick review 1.Stolid looking soldiers lined the solid bridge leading to the stoic arc entrance. * Solid
2. "Hoods seem to be a thing," Ron muttered under his cowl. - I think hoods are always a thing.
3. "I have nothing to hide." The lady straightened her back with dignity. "I'm too on in years to be doing that. But people must be protecting themselves now, yes." "Good day, ma'am." "Good day." - Interesting
4. "Ohh~ cobblestone streets leading to my love on an Eschellipse night..." the young baritone ecd away in the lonely alley. - ecd`?
5. One of the other individuals in the room, a young man by the looks of it though he was hooded, glanced their way, If you're dissatisfied then just leave Oschelar. We may have power since we're rich, says Silvestre, but can only do so much. - I think dialogue is mixed in the middle here.
6. The hooded individual by the window glanced their way again, only slightly upwards this time. Nicolao followed the gaze...and noticed the glass chandelier hanging above. There's so much you people don't see... - Is he thinking?
7.It was a given that stone made people have stony silences. The different grade of stone seemed to carry differing weight to it and the tension in the Red Brick Inn was crimson indeed. -Do you mean the stone meant to build Red Brick Inn?
8. Gunshots and yells sounded afar off. Footfalls ecd in their ears as Ron skirted swiftly through the empty red brick back alleys. - ecd again. Did you mean to write ecd?
9. Ron glimpse the unmoistened pistol in his opponent's hand - aiming at the barrels for some reason stacked at the other end of the room. - unmoistened pistol? What did you mean here? Dry or...?
10. "Don't think so. If the bad guys knew I were here, they might've acted faster. That's be more troublesome..." - That would've been more troublesome
General Thoughts I'm wondering if its a sort of age where theres swords and morden pistols? Because thats the image that I had there. That was quite the intense chase scene. Interesting narrative style as always Echo. It's quite creative. Sometimes the lack of mention of a character even though their names have been identified slowed me down as I had to be careful not to mix people up, and I was unfortunately not quite sure what the agreement they wanted the prince to sign was, but it was really well done otherwise. Props! Ron seems like a quite skilled Bodygaurd. I wonder how he got so skilled.
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