The Legacy: Prologue-Ten Legends

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Posted on March 25, 2009 17:32

Dawsoe20
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The prequel stories for the inspired characters written into The Legacy.

Volume I:Legend of the Sage

Garrinski was a scholar in his early years. Studying under many professors his time was spent day in and day out learning the significance of the stars and the heavens.

"One day, I'll be apart of those constellations and my name will be that of legend," he said to himself one night.

He laid out on top of the town library this evening and continued gazing at the lights above. A light soon caught his attention. This light was not in the sky though, but rather out at sea. No ship sailed these waters this late at night and that much he knew, so with much haste he made his way to the docks.

As he continued towards the floating light he could feel a chill work its way down his spine. The wind was still, but faint whispers could still be heard above the muffled waves. The rest of the night was a blurred nightmare. Garrinski could do nothing to stop the marauders that crept silently into the town. He was found, beaten half to death, and left for dead.

When his eyes opened the next day his previous life was gone, stolen without a trace. His books, his telescopes, and his teachers were all destroyed. Never before had he felt the pain of losing something he loved so dear. His mind with it's vast compendium of knowledge could not grasp what was to come of a life shaken and left void as violently as his had been. Nothing made sense or had meaning in it anymore and as night fell on the battered town no stars could quell the feelings bolstering inside his heart.

As quickly as his feelings had overtaken him they departed from him just as suddenly a day later. Something clicked in this young scholar's mind. After years of tutelage from the words of books and the mouth's of his professors, the meaning, the true meaning of such things finally came to fruition inside this young soul. Everything so beautiful and dear had no reason to last forever, for then such things could not become precious. The stars were not named after the heroes who lived out their days to the end of them. It was time to fulfill his duty, his promise, his wish.

There was no sadness for his lost friends, no hatred for those who most would deem his enemies, there was only a man and his fiery grip on life. The child was no longer the student, he had discovered the passage of life and death. His wisdom reached beyond that or practical teachings or moral codes. To those who came to know his legend he was a sage, the first and last they ever knew.

Volume II: Legend of the Sinner

Flashy was a demon among the pirate world. His actions were merciless and his twisted smile struck fear into all those unfortunate enough to cross his path. No pirate commanded a stricter rule and none had committed atrocities as terrible as Flashy. It wasn�t until he met a special priest that his life changed forever.

Ravaging a traveling vessel, Flashy�s men ripped through the crew and all it�s passengers. Few were captured and only for the purpose of being a tribute to their captain. Among these men was Father Regan a very old and very faithful priest.

Flashy approached the captives with a contorted look of loathing. He scanned the petrified faces looking for his first victim when his eyes locked with Regans. The man�s face was void of any fear and Flashy took some small enjoyment in staring this man down.

�Are you prepared to die?� snarled Flashy.

�My son, death is inevitable. But if you�re concerned about my preparation for the afterlife. I am more than ready,� replied Regan.

�You @!#$, there is nothing for you besides a watery grave in your afterlife!� chuckled Flashy drawing out his knife.

�Do you see these people frightened around me, pirate? They may not be prepared for death as I am, but I say unto you they shall have no fear in the afterlife either. Their eyes can not even bare witness to these sins you are about to commit before us all. They have chosen a higher path and one that you can not travel, at least not now.� said Regan.

�Is that so?� queried Flashy. He approached a woman captive and plunged his knife deep into her chest. She coughed for a few moments and then lay limp on the floor. �It seems the path of death is the highest of them all!� Something shook Flashy as his eyes once again laid on the priest who had watched him through this whole ordeal.

�Allow me to thank you pirate, for a world void of all sin can not know the true meaning of salvation. You have strengthened my faith and the faith of those you hold captive I�m sure. The world is such a simple place where good men are happy and content and bad men are evil and full of sorrow.� said Regan. �These people know that past tonight they will never witness such evil again. You were simply born to do wrong and you�d be a fool to do otherwise. For if the devil turns his back on you who will you have left?�

Flashy grimaced at these remarks. �Fine,� Flasy began, �have it your way�. He began taking the lives of the rest of the captives until none were left. �I�ve released them all into your little fantasy world, I�ve done my duty. You must truly be a prophet to have predicted my intentions.� Flashy smiled most deviously saying all this. �Aren�t you happy now?�

�Nothing could be further from the truth my son. I was so terribly mistaken. A father can not take joy in seeing his son make the poorest of choices and endure such pain by himself.� Regan sorrowfully said.

Flashy finally pushed his blade into the priests chest, ever so slowly. �I�ve never understood how foolish men in white coats could call everyone their son, chanting away about tales of charity and righteousness.� Flashy said.

�Not son of the church,� coughed the priest. �You�re my son, my name is Regan Man. I�ve searched for you for so long. I heard so many rumors, but prayed for them not to be true.. I prayed I�d have the fortitude to meet you even if they were... I prayed you�d have the strength to change if I could speak to you.. but I�m still so happy I found you. Don�t worry my son, as I have been, I�ll continue to say my prayer for you. Even if you choose to be a demon for the rest of your life, I�ll keep my promise.�

The priest slowly passed away as a last hint of light left his eyes. Flashy stood their in shock as the weight of his actions crept up on him. That night was not the last he would kill a man. That night was not the last he would commit a sin. That night was not the last he�d lose someone who loved him. But that was the last night Flashy would feel any form of joy. His father would pray for him and Flashy in return vowed to always uphold his prayers. Words could not change the sinner, but unshakable faith had. All who came to know Flashy and his legend knew him only by what he called himself, �The Sinner�.

WereGARRurumon will devour your poke-roster =.=;(Credit: Sevr)
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Posted on March 25, 2009 17:32

Dawsoe20
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Volume III: Legend of the Swordsman

Sam was the finest blacksmith in all the land. From coast to coast there was no name more renown than Sam the Blacksmith. His prize winning weapons drew adventurers and pirates alike from across the world to view and buy his fine wares. All knew him to be a kind man with a good heart and also with an incredible knack for crafting blades.

Every night he spent training with sword in hand, breathing new life into each of the blades he had forged for months and months. None knew his secret passion or tireless hours spent wielding these fine blades, but one day someone found out.

The greatest swordsman of the land had come looking for a new blade to compliment his oldest of weapons. Although he favored two blades in combat he had never found a sword to compliment his first. It was a black tinted blade with no glint in the metal at all.

Upon arrival at Sam�s shop he checked out a few of his finer blades safely deposited in glass cases. Sam emerged from the back of the store to witness his blades being admired by this most marvelous of swordsmen. He paused for a moment and then nervously began to speak.

�Hello fine sir, if I may be as bold as to go back and acquire a sword that would be more befitting to such a warrior as yourself.�

The swordsman smiled and nodded politely to Sam. Sam rushed to the back of the store to a box he had kept locked since the summer before last. It was the finest sword he had ever crafted. The heat wave of that summer had hit the land and devastated many a field and livestock, but from those ashes a forging of epic proportions could take place. The blade of a dozen suns was thusly created. It shone the brightest of any sword ever created by Sam and was his dearest by far. Sam removed the sword from the box and ran it in hand to the front of the store. To Sam�s surprise no one was there.

�Out here boy.� Sam heard a voice call from outside.

Sam stepped out front to see the swordsman with his blade drawn directed at him.

�Now I know a few things about swords boy. And I know that those blades have been wielded before. So by that measure it�s clear that you either stole them from would be swordsmen or you have used them yourself. I will ask that you defend yourself now, thief or blade master, because my sword seeks only the truth and you shall divulge it to who you truly are.�

The swordsman quickly crashed his blade down on the boy. Sam blocked for all he could, but his strength was no match for his foe's. He rolled from underneath the swordsman and felt the cutting wind of his next few strikes. Sam knew he had to parry the blows and maintain his wrist strength or risk losing in a couple more hits. He knew everything there was to know about a blade and armed with this knowledge he began piecing together the forged steel of his opponent. The fight carried on for an hour and then two and before anyone cared to notice the sun had set and the bout was being waged by streetlight.

The swordsman chuckled to himself seeing the fight progress this far. Never had he faced an opponent as skilled as this boy. Every move he made was perfectly countered and returned. The difference in strength was apparent, but so fine the boy�s technique was the swordsman�s blows caused less and less damage. The swordsman realizing his position held out his hand and ended the fight. Both fighters winded stood their for a moment breathing heavily staring the other down.

�Why do you call yourself a blacksmith boy? You�re talent is obviously far superior in that of the blade.� queried the swordsman.

�I do not call myself anything but Sam. It is the world that recognizes me by the title of Blacksmith.� replied Sam.

�Well boy, after tonight you shall be known by the world by whatever title you see fit. For I have never been bested and you have never been properly addressed. So young lad, what shall it be?� asked the swordsman.

In all of Sam�s years he was never known by anything other than a blacksmith. But in his heart he knew what his true calling was. He brought life into his blades and gave their existence a purpose. Sam was a swordsman. And from that day on, his swords were no longer talked about in stories of legend, he was.

Volume IV: Legend of the Prodigy

Red was the youngest of his two brothers. He grew up always in the sheltered attention of the ones he loved and cared about. His older brothers teased him constantly for not being able to go to work with their father. At home with his mother is where he spent the bulk of his time. Although this is not where he wished to spend his days he diligently followed his parents wishes and helped his mother with the work around the house.

It wasn�t long before Red had mastered all the duties set forth for him by his mother. He would always watch patiently while she taught him the intricate techniques of sewing and baking. Soon his ability to clean and cook become far superior to that of even his mother.

Astounded by the boy�s perseverance and his humble attitude Red�s father allowed him to come to the field with him for a day. As before with his mother he watched patiently his father and brothers toil in the field most of the day until his father approached him and asked if he was ready. Within an hour Red had completed as much work any of the three men had done throughout the duration of the morning and afternoon. His dad was marveled by this display so much he decided to bring his youngest son to work with him everyday.

Before long Red was helping the family save quite the sum of money from all his hard work. His father wanted nothing more than to send his youngest son to a school in the city in hopes he�d be a success and be able to live a happy and full life. He sent Red soon after his first year of work with all their savings into the city to attend his first class.

Upon arriving in the town Red noticed a crowd of people gathered by the pier. In the center of the crowd was a tall slender man armed with a fencing sword. He could tell right away the man was apart of the Navy from his medals and badges, even though his green suit showed little resemblance to anything from the military. It appeared as if their was another man in the circle as well but he was on the ground holding his side, shuffling through a small satchel. He took out and tossed ten gold pieces at the green suited man.

�Is there no one else who can best me but once in three rounds? Why I can double, hell, triple any ten gold wager placed against me.� chimed green suit man. The crowd simply roared with applause as the green suit man smiled and glanced around.

Red had never held a sword in his life, but wanting to make his parents happy he couldn�t pass up a challenge like this to prolong his studies with more tuition money. He moved slowly through the crowd as his small frame wove around a dozen sailors. He stooped down to pick up the sword left by the man still sitting on the ground when an uproar of laughter came from the sailors.

�I won�t waste my time playing swords with you boy,� snapped the green suit man, �if you have no money I have no need of you.�

Red smiled and dropped the gold pieces from his pocket to the ground a foot in front of the green suit man. The crowd grew eerily silent and both combatants starred at one another drawing their weapons to a beginning pose. Red watched the green suit man carefully as his first move and was made. Without hesitation Red parried blow after blow until he was backed to the edge of circle and struck.

The crowd roared in excitement as Red ripped a strap from his pack to cover his fresh wound. The second round began the same way. Both drew their pose and the green suit man darted straight for Red without hesitation. Red could see his moves and blocked each while waiting patiently for a chance to strike, but no matter how many strikes he could ward off another just came with redoubled strength. Red�s arm was beginning to tire, but he maintained his stance and composure same as his opponent. After a few close calls the green suit man finally managed to land a cut on Red�s right cheek.

The crowd responded with a symphony of �ohs� and �ahs�. Red simply left the fresh cut bare and focused intently on his opponent who was now completely fixated on the small boy. His eyes were burning and nostrils flaring. Could it be this little person had begun winding the veteran swordsman? Both combatants returned to their ready poses and began the final match. Red had waited long enough and had measured his opponent up perfectly now. He drew a quick smile as the green suit man came forward and tossed his sword up in the air. It landed prominently in his right hand. The green suit man glared at this display and increased the speed and force of his first lunge. Red dodged the attack completely and thrust his sword into the shoulder of his opponent. For the untrained sailors watching this display none could remark how the small boy landed such a crushing blow on the veteran swordsman.

The green suit man winced in pain as he looked at the boy square in the eye.

�Who did you learn your swordplay from, boy?� he asked.

Red wiped the sweat from his brow and began picking up the gold he had tossed on ground a short while earlier.

�Sir it�s not someone from which I learn. You simply learn more than others if you wait patiently for life to teach you its lessons.� replied Red still drawing his coins into his pack.

�Well my son, you are truly a prodigy in my eyes.� said the green suit man.

And Red remained a gifted learner till the end of his days, improving on the perfection studied only by the finest of warriors and artisans of the world. He was a prodigy in the eyes of the world and his potential became that of legend.

Posted on March 25, 2009 17:32

Dawsoe20
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Volume V: Legend of the Bewildered

�Crazy� was his name from as long back as he could remember. The townsfolk always worried what antics he�d get into next. One day he�d ride a herd of cows down main street and the next he�d show up in lady�s undergarments dancing in the town square. The cows were a prize to him and he�d spend hours each day playing with and teasing them, often causing the farmers to chase him in an uproar. So entranced was he by the enormous bovines that he took it upon himself to wear one of their bells around his neck at all times. He was a nuisance no one wanted around their homes or children. The only problem about this young fellow and all his trouble making ways was that no man, or group of men for that matter, could ever catch him. All manner of man and beast alike would try and try to subdue the madman to no avail.

It wasn�t until a hunter one day came to the town and was sought out by the richest man of the town. For crazy had misplaced a number of items from the rich man�s house and he was willing to pay top money to anyone who could bring the raving lunatic to justice. The hunter who was skilled in all manner of trapping and killing exotic beasts, earnestly accepted this offer.

On the first night of the hunter�s stay Crazy came walking into town. His cowbell could be heard from any seen distance and the sly hunter had done his homework on this primitive creature. On all fours Crazy approached the town fountain and submerged his head into the cold pool of water. A faint click could be heard by the madman�s acute ears. He jumped at the sound and faced the dark figure emerging from the alley. In his hand he noticed a big rope. Crazy watched the rope intently as it slid out from the dark alley into the pale moonlight. This was not a tool to be used to capture him as he soon realized. It was a device for dragging around a small baby calf. Crazy watched with feverish eyes as the hunter drug the animal around.

�You see boy, I know better when to chase a beast. And I know when it�s better to have to beast come to me. I�ll give you five seconds to come over to me or something �unfortunate� will happen to this animal.� called out the hunter.

Crazy without hesitation began solemnly walking towards to hunter. In a few steps the trap was sprung and Crazy was netted to the ground by a volley of ropes and weight mechanisms. The hunter burst out in roar of uncontrollable laughter.

�Well now I don�t see what�s so crazy about you boy. Such an obvious Achilles' heel and no one has taken you down before... truly pathetic.� The hunter paused for a short moment as he lit a cigar releasing the rope of the calf. �Hrmm, there�s really no point in letting a good kill go to waste. That rich man told me I could give the life of this calf if I needed too. After all anyone in this town would do the same thing if they could afford to hire me. You�ve just become a thorn in everyone's side.�

He kicked the calf and sent it running past the fountain up the street. With his gun carefully aimed he fired off one shot. A cry was heard then nothing more. A few of the townspeople awoke and ran to their doorways to check on the commotion. The hunter victoriously held his gun over head as he turned around to show the display of his superior cunning of the boy called �Crazy� for all to see.

Crazy who had never produced a noise other than a hoot or a holler suddenly roared out with his head hung fighting back his tears. �MURDERER!�

The sound was frightening and the next set of images even more gruesome. Within a few seconds the young man had torn through all manner of rope and weight that held him down and was latched onto the hunter�s frame tearing away at everything his teeth and hands could bear into. The townspeople watched in horror and the ones who couldn�t were forced to listen to the haunting cries let loose. After nothing was left and no life could be breathed back into the hunter Crazy rose back to his feet. Something was different in his eyes. Even his stance was foreign to any the townsfolk had witnessed him carry. He looked normal, like a regular man with a stern expression on his face. His steps took him past the fountain towards a dim shadow laying in the street.

Crazy reached around his neck and ripped his bell off in one quick tug. He placed it gently around the small calf�s neck. With that small token given he walked out of the town forever never to return.

One of the townspeople noted that in all of Crazy�s adventurous days of acting foolish and playful, he�d never seen the young man act so bewildered in his life. Crazy later on found it less and less easy to return to his mischievous state, and to those that ever saw him �bewildered� he became one of the fiercest of legends.

Volume VI: The Legend of the Entity

Ray was the finest marksmen in the military. His assignments were often the assassination of top ranking enemy officials and political leaders. His life was carried out mission to mission, his purpose always the same. He was a tool to be wielded by those who ordered him. On one summer day this �tool� met his purpose face to face.

Ray was riding on a train to eliminate a high priority target in a neighboring country. He had nothing more than his coat and rifle stowed safely in the passenger cargo cart. He sat quietly staring intently outside the window next to his seat. The hills were green and flourishing with life, but he saw none of it. His eyes were marking a road rolling through the hills, a possible return route from his future destination. Nothing had meaning in his world other than his targets.

A girl who�d been singing and running down the cart for sometime now, finally stopped and came up to Ray�s seat in the car.

�Hey mister, whatcha doin?� she asked.

Ray knowing right away he�d have to think up a lie carefully returned a stern look to the small girl. �Just watching the clouds go by.�

�I like clouds too,� she giggled, �Can I watch them with you?�

Before Ray could answer the girl bounced into the seat across from him and looked out of the window squinting very hard as if it helped her see them better.

�There�s a bird one!� she exclaimed. �Do you see it?�

Ray looked at all the clouds now, but did not see one that resembled anything remotely close to a bird. So he shook his head and looked back the girl as if to ask �where?�

�Well, how about the doggy one right there next to it. Do you see it?� she asked again.

Ray tried a bit harder this time scanning through every cloud that could be seen from every possible angle, but to his dismay he couldn�t find the dog. He shook his head again.

�Geez Mr. you�re kinda poopy at this game. How about you find me one?� the little girl said with a smile.

Now Ray did his best to think up something the clouds looked like, but no images came to his head. They all looked the same to him. He sighed and looked at the girl again shaking his head. �Sorry I just usually watch the clouds,� he said with some remorse.

�That�s ok, maybe we�ll try again later,� said the girl as she jumped up and started off. Right as she made it around the corner of the doorway Ray heard an �oomph� from the hall. A man came into view with the small girl behind his leg. They both stood in the doorway of the room.

�I�m sorry for my little girl,� began the man. Ray took one look at the man and felt an intensity in his body. �She gets away sometimes and I just don�t know what to do. I always tell myself I don�t know what I�d do without her, but then she almost instantly turns up again.� The man began chuckling and patting his daughter on the head. �Well I�m sorry again, I promise to keep her with me the rest of the trip.�

�Awww,� whined the girl, �we were gonna play some more games later.� The father started talking quietly to the girl as he lead her back to their seats.

Ray had never met this man before in his life. He never knew him to be a good or a bad individual. How could it be that someone with such a wonderful daughter could be targeted for termination? Ray could see how empty his life was now. He had no meaning, he was but a tool for someone else�s purposes. His shell did for others what he couldn�t decide for himself, but now looking at his own life for the first time through the eyes of a small child he knew what he wanted. He wanted to search for what life he was meant to have, until he could do so he�d only be a hollow shell of a man. He left the train station after that day and was never heard from again. Some say he still exists to this day and has found his purpose, for a man is known to live and answer only to the name �Entity�.

Posted on March 25, 2009 17:33

Dawsoe20
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Volume VII: The Legend of the Dreamer

The visions haunted her throughout her childhood. Sevr was a prophetic child in her tiny village tribe. Her people were native to their land and had many times defended their homes against wandering pirates and aggressive military forces. Their tribe itself was very akin with nature and the spiritual world and Sevr was destined someday to become the elder of this same tribe. The Chieftain who lead the clan at the time did his best to protect his people using Sevr's gifted ability of foresight, but ultimately it was the events of the past that would spell the destruction of everyone in the tribe.

Sevr�s visions came to her without much warning or control. She felt a tightening of her eyes and throat when they began and this feeling would not let up until the vision played out in its entirety. The last vision Sevr ever saw on the island as a child she was with her standing on a cliff overlooking her village. A terrible storm was taking place all around her and she could barely make out the shadows of odd men wandering around her village. In a few seconds screams drowned out the sound of falling rain and a steady wind. Sevr felt a sense of dread as she could not find out why she was unable to move from the spot on the cliff. The screams came louder and louder as lightening and thunder filled the pitch black sky. As the sound reached deafening proportions it suddenly ceased. The scene she was witnessing started to drift away into a dark abyss until there was nothing more and she was all alone.

Sevr was extremely troubled by this vision and she raced to tell the Chieftain of the news right away. She didn�t leave out a single detail of the ominous fortune that would soon befall the village. It was late, but storms clouds could already be spotted way off in the horizon. The tribe left all of their goods and belongings in the camp and decided to make their way up to the forest in the cliffs.

As with most of her visions, Sevr�s latest one left her exhausted. Her fears were put to rest though when the tribe arrived at the temporary camp site. She rest her eyes and slowly fell asleep. Sevr always had the most comfort in sleeping, for she had never had a dream or a nightmare in her lifetime. When she was at rest no painful premonitions would ever come forth. This night was different though. Sevr dreamt for the first time in her life. She was on the ocean and gazed out at the endlessness of the dark blue water in all directions. She felt an ease pass over her and a jovial feeling of excitement race through her chest. But then something jostled her back awake�

Sevr was hung over the Chieftain�s shoulder who was running through the woods. Before Sevr could find her bearings the Chieftain had set her down and told her not to move no matter what happened or what she heard. He repeated these words until Sevr anxiously promised to abide by her leader�s request. The Chieftain than darted back into the woods from the way he came. Sevr slowly turned around and was petrified by what she bore witness too. She could see the village camp a mile away below the cliff. In utter disbelief she turned back to the woods staring into the empty catacombs of wood and leaf. She was starting to come out his dreamlike state even more as she could begin feeling the rain hit her already dampened clothes. And then they came like gunshot, the screams. Sevr could feel her body go limp and her legs numb as she gripped her ears trying to drown out the sound.

By morning Sevr had seen the whole vision come to fruition and the terrible truths of how the known event could not be avoided. A band of pirates which his tribe had previously fended off and sent away the year before had returned with much greater numbers. They had used an alternate path to reach the camp in an attempt to flank the tribe after an initial attack was sent in. What the pirates and Sevr�s tribe hadn�t counted on was meeting one another in the woods miles away from the camp.

Sevr was exhausted and cold. Her spirit was nearly depleted and her heart torn asunder. For all the pain her visions caused her she would have never imagined they would cause so much pain to the ones she loved. As the day grew longer she sat in the abandoned village waiting for another vision�she was completely lost now. With no present and no future Sevr fell asleep on a bed of tears.

The same dream she had witnessed the night before returned to her and with it Sevr felt some amount of warmth and comfort. When she awoke the next day Sevr understood what she should do. She would no longer be a fearful slave to the visions that brought the destruction of her village. She would be the fulfiller of her own dreams and forge her own destiny. She left his tribe�s island that day to sail the rest of the world and find all the marvelous things he saw in her dreams. To all those that met this tribal prophet she was nothing more than a deluded dreamer, but so powerful and fantastic her dreams were that with each fulfilled they became a tale of legend.

Volume VIII: Legend of the Blind

Not many men are born into the world under the best of circumstances, but even those that are have trouble holding on to it for very long. Vash was one of these unfortunate souls. His entire life was dedicated to sailing the world for new lands to settle and help in developing those new lands. The company he served paid him very well and most of the islands he founded prospered and gained much wealth from being discovered. New animal species and plants were always credited to this fine explorer and no man saw more of the known world than Vash. He truly lived above what most men dreamed.

He was a good man too, with a beautiful wife and a beautiful home he could call his own. Every summer he�d come home to see his loving wife for three months and have then go back to the job sailing the world. Every month his wife would send him a letter and Vash would write back. The letters were always pages long describing life in the village, how the animals were, and how the plants changed seasons. They always ended the same way, with the words �I hope you come home soon.�

One year Vash noticed the length of one of the letters decline somewhat and included was an odd request for some extra money to get her through the month. Vash had no problem sending the amount in his next letter back, but asked also if everything was alright. The next month came around the letter was a bit shorter than the last. This time his wife had even excluded any of the events happening in the village. She told him all was alright, but asked again for a small amount of money in addition to his usual amount. Vash sent the money again and asked if any of her friends were not doing so well.

The next few months came by and letter by letter the words declined and the descriptions of life at home sounded uninteresting and bleak. Vash was very concerned by this and decided to write another letter to an old friend of his who lived near his home. Once the reply came back he was shocked. It read: �I�m sorry I�m the one to have to bring you this news my friend. But I don�t know what else I can say. The postman who�s been delivering the letters to your home seems a most shadowy individual, but even more troublesome he spends many a night in your home and leaves often without any letter. I pray you are well and hope this news is understandable given your recent letters, but please be safe and come home soon.�

Vash was stricken by sadness. Not only had he been foolishly worrying about the one he thought loved him, he�d been supporting her unfaithfulness all this time as well. The next letter that followed by the month was the shortest yet. At the very end of it the only words written were, �I�ll cherish you forever.� Vash couldn�t stomach the cruel words for little they were worth. He threw the letter away and no reply was sent back that month. In one month's time he�d confront his soon to be ex-wife face to face.

In one month Vash did return home he found one letter waiting for him. It was post marked nearly a month ago. He entered the house to find a crude stench overwhelming the air. He covered his mouth and coughed struggling to find the source. Down the cellar he found the horrifying answer. His wife lay chained to a wall lifeless in a dried pool of blood. Vash was stricken with grief he cried for hours and hours, until he could take the stinging smell and sight no more. He sat on the porch and gripped the letter in his hand.

The letter from nearly a month ago was his friend�s. It told him that he had done some more investigating to find out about his wife�s mysterious visits. He�d learned that the postman was actually a pirate who was using the woman to supply his crew with funds. His friend heard him threaten to kill her husband if she didn�t continue writing him letters and receiving money.

Vash was in more pain than he�d ever felt in his life. Nothing could console the anguish he felt from his own ignorance. His only duty now would be to find the pirate who took his wife�s life and take his. Vash quit his job, left his home, and vowed to only see this final task through before taking his own life. He trained constantly to become a warrior without parallel. His methods were extreme and dangerous, but he had no reason to be cautious anymore. He was a man who saw most of the world and some, but to him and those who know his story he is a man cursed forever blind.

Posted on March 25, 2009 17:33

Dawsoe20
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Volume IX: Legend of the Noble

Pike was raised in a poor slum of the city. His father and mother were vagrants who did anything to get by. Though he rarely saw or cared for them they loved him deeply and did all they could to make Pike into something more than a street rat. Pike had been a clever child since he was small. His wit and trickery gave him a less than prestigious reverence among the poor. For all the trouble he�d got himself into he had become quite the fighter amongst the most hardened criminals. Although he was never schooled or brought up into the proper lifestyle he did know of many of their traditions and customs.

Pike ended up going to a gala late one night in hopes to watch some of the activities and perhaps rummage through some of the party�s leftovers. Spying through a window in the back of the building Pike could see the extravagant lights and tapestry that hung from room and ceiling. It was an amazing sight to behold. As the night drew on Pike was entranced and lost all recollection of his situation. A man soon came to the back door for a quick smoke when Pike became startled at the sound of his lighter. He fell back into the street.

The gentleman looked worriedly at Pike and than concerned. He knew this boy to be nothing more than a poor young man, but something told him not to recoil.

�Young man are you hurt? Did you get a look at the fiend who robbed you and made of with your clothes?� asked the kind gentleman.

Pike shook his head at first and then explained he had been robbed under similar circumstances for coming out to smoke. The gentleman brought Pike inside and up to his room where he fitted him into some more suitable clothes after of course washing him up a bit. Pike begged the gentleman not to worry about him, but his insistence didn�t falter. So Pike soon joined the party below and enjoyed the dancing and witty humor the rest of the night without anyone knowing the truth.

It wasn�t until a knock came at the front door that reality crashed back into Pike�s life. The gentleman who dressed up Pike and who apparently was the host of the party answered the door. From across the room Pike could see the officer come in with a woman in arm. It was his mother! Her head hung down and her body limp. A couple guests were attracted to the spectacle at the front door and coaxed the officer to leave the poor woman here for their own amusement. Pike rushed to front of the crowd to see his mother obviously passed out on the floor in front of him.

One of the dressed up man began to lifting her up into a chair. Another poured a glass of water over her head, startling and awakening the poor woman at the same time.

�Well, well, began one of the men. It seems our little thief here isn�t getting more than she bargained for,� said one of the men.

Pike�s mother cringed at the sight of all the men�s eyes moving over her body. The women of the party were annoyed, but remained silent as their suitors attention was fixed on this lady of the evening. Pike immediately stepped in front of his mother facing the crowd with outstretched arms as the first man approached her.

�How is it you say you have any class acting in such a manner as this?� growled Pike.

�Let me tell you lad, to be a man of wealth you must learn to take something when the seizing is good,� replied the gentleman. He crept an inch forward before being laid out by Pike�s fist.

�If being wealthy means being able to do whatever you want, then I guess I�m the richest man in the room.� said Pike.
Several of the other man, rolled up their sleeves and began throwing punches from every direction at Pike. These men were no match for his quickness or strength. He�d been beaten by men of enormous stature and ability and their blows could not pierce the pain he felt seeing his mother at their mercy. Within a matter of minutes more than a dozen men lay motionless and knocked out on the ground. The host of the party who had been watching this scene from the stairway began a small applause that echoed in the vastness of the open room.

�I know your true fortune boy, and it only became more apparent when this woman joined our good company. It is true you are not of wealth or prosperity, but I can see it now in your heart that you are a gallant fellow indeed,� the gentleman said.

�I�m� I�m sorry,� said Pike. �I didn�t mean to ruin your party.�

�Well my boy, if getting rid of some bad company is your idea of ruining a party, you�re sadly mistaken. And I think it�s I who should be apologizing to you, it was never my intention to cause you to have to endure this travesty. If I may I�d like to invite you and your family to join me here in my home for the rest of my days.�

Pike was speechless, but his mother, father, and himself decided to stay with the kind gentlemen till he grew old enough to go out and see the world. His past was poor and future rich, but to any that knew this once vagrant street rat he was a Noble among all men.

Volume X: Legend of the Divine

There was an orphan boy who grew up in a very small village. All his life spent their no villager had ever spoken with the child. They did not know his name and so he was called �Solo�. Solo�s days were filled with loneliness and despair. He knew no one in the village and could not muster the courage to talk to any of those kind enough to offer their help.

Although Solo spoke no words he still brought much happiness and pleasure into the lives of the villagers. Since he could remember Solo carried a small stringed instrument with him wherever he went. His music could be heard by one and all. Even in the hardest of times his melodies would call forth the most celestial of images in the minds and hearts of the devout villagers.

One day a traveling troop happened to come across the small village and decided to rest their for the night. Amongst these performers and entertainers were a couple of thieves. After arriving in the town the troop decided to put on a small show for the village and all came to watch in awe that amazing spectacle. Solo watched the acts from behind the stage. It wasn�t soon after the second act Solo overheard a couple of the performers talking in a mischievous manner.

�How much you got?�

�Only three pieces of fine�.ugh, these country folk are poorer than dirt.�

Solo swelled with anger and charged out of the shadows he�d been sitting silently in. He tackled the first thief violently to the ground. The other almost stunned seeing his partner fall out of no where took a few steps back before sizing up the boy. Solo immediately realized his unfortunate predicament as the his eyes fixated on the second thief who was now pocketing the money. In a flash Solo felt two huge arms clasp around his torso pinning him still. A cry was released from the boy�s mouth.

As the play was still going on a villager noticed a faint tone that could be heard behind the curtains. His intrigue turned to distress as he heard the sound continue over the performance. He immediately got up from his seat alerting a few of the other villagers to his interest behind the stage and rushed to see what was going on. By the time he reached the back of the stage the first villager held witness to Solo being strapped by his wrists to a pole under the stage. The rest of the villagers and a few performers caught up to the scene as the first villager began to speak.

�What�s going on here?� asked the villager.

�This poor worthless boy came back here to try and steal our hard earned money,� growled the thief.

�Solo is this true?� asked the villager.

Solo did not know what to do. He had just bared witness this crime committed against the only ones who cared about him, but what was their to say? It was his orphaned word against there own. He couldn�t help but close his eyes to stop the flow of water he felt gushing into his eyes. He choked a little on his emotions and looked up.

�Those men are the thieves. I tried to stop them, I�m sorry.� whispered Solo.

The thieves scoffed and chuckled half heartedly. One shook his head in disgust.

�Well it�s obvious the boy is lying,� said the thief as he reached into Solo�s pocket and faked pulling out the stolen money. �You see here, there can be no doubt. This forsaken little child had to have taken the money.�

�Well I�m afraid I have to tell you something,� began the first villager, �that boy may be forsaken, but any sound he makes is nothing closer to pure than the Great Divine. If he says that was what happened, there isn�t a second thought in my head. You have one hour to get out of our village or we�ll throw you out ourselves.�

From that day on Solo�s spoken word was that of the highest integrity and honor. He moved away from the village soon after the incident with new found confidence and continued to play his music and sing wherever he went. All those that came to know and meet this amazing wanderer knew him only as Solo the Divine.

Posted on March 25, 2009 17:33

AngellicAmethyst
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First. Sexy story?

Posted on March 25, 2009 17:34

(Cycangfx)
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I doubt this is a clan since its in the writing section, or am I wrong?

My Graphics Guide ll My Clan Guide || Gif || Fuji || Sig by Hab || Family || Kaka ||BM || Current tag by Kaka ||

Boo.

Posted on March 25, 2009 17:35

AngellicAmethyst
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(Cycangfx) wrote:

I doubt this is a clan since its in the writing section, or am I wrong?

Yes I read it wrong.

Posted on March 25, 2009 17:38

Dawsoe20
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The prelude to my story is now posted, enjoy S-B.

Posted on August 25, 2009 16:12

Dawsoe20
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#10

I'm going to bump this for the simple fact I fully revised/proofed these stories through another site and think in turn they are of far superior quality than what they were previously.

For those of you who've delved into my story The Legacy, or have enjoyed a chapter or two, these are a collection of short stories based of the crewmen aboard that legendary ship.

Hope this revision also captures the minds of a few new readers ;)

The Legacy: Prologue-Ten Legends

The Legacy: Prologue-Ten Legends

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