Thread: Shadows of Nurontha

As of starting this, I have no intentions on including any adult themes... however this may change as I get my brain together and feel the story flowing a bit better, for now, it will be somewhere between PG-13 and R-rated. Chapter 1 The valiant man consumed by the shadows that never existed..... The night sky was cloudless and starlights filled it much like the twinkling of lantern lights filled the sleepy city. The streets were dry and dusty from the lack of recent rain. Footsteps echoed down the shadowy alleyways between run-down shops. Someone ran quickly, darting their head back and forth every so often as if expecting something to leap out at them. They stopped just behind the shadow of a small tannery, peering around the corner into the empty market square. There, atop a building across they way... they could just barely make it out. Something was hunched over the roof, eyes glowing a faint bluish light. It leaped off the building and landed in the middle of the square as if it were doing no more than hopping a couple of inches away. This thing hissed slightly and a gutteral growl escaped it as its tongue lolled out licked around its face. The figure hiding near the tannery burst out and quickly unsheathed a weapon, slashing at the thing with a grunt. The thing leaped backwards landing several feet away hissing loudly. The figure studies his weapon carefully. A shimmering wetness lightly coated the blade. I finally hit it, the figure muttered to itself. The thing rubbed at its body and licked a clawed hand, perhaps tasting its own blood. The thing growled and leaped at the figure, swiping a clawed hand at the figure. The figure held up the weapon and the claw smashed into the blade, a brief spark of light jumping away from the contact point. The brief flash lit the face of a man with dimly amber-colored eyes, and lit the face of the thing as well revealing something resembling a vulture or lizard. The man held his weapon down by his side and turned it slightly, the starlight and the sliver of moonlight reflecting off it. The creature lowered its head and hissed loudly, its skin rippling with waves of darkness. The man's reflexes reacted and brought his weapon back up, barely deflecting a wave of energy thrown at him. He looked down and realized the shockwave pushed him back a little, track marks in the dusty street proving it. The creature held its claws up and a ball of dark energy formed above it, slowly growing in size. The man reached to his belt and pulled a small card from it, placing it against the blade of his weapon. The weapon glowed with a dim yellow pulse and slowly began crackling with faint yellow waves of energy. The creature threw the ball of dark energy at the man with a lurch, only to discover that it hit the empty street. The creature suddenly jerked and screeched in pain. Its body convulsed violently as the blade of the mans weapon shot out through its chest. The man turn the weapon as much as he could and with all his strength slashed sideways ripping through the creature tearing out internal organs and bones. He continued the motion and spun around, lowering the weapon as he spun about, then turning it upward cleaving the creature's back from hip to neck. The creature's body began shaking and convulsing even harder, the guts and blood pouring out of the terrible wound dealt by man. Crackles of yellow energy formed around the creature and with a powerful thunderclap the creature exploded into a rain of ichor and chunks of carnage. The man didn't have time to rest as the lights in many nearby buildings slowly came to life. He retreated down another alleyway and sought shelter while the townspeople emerged to investigate the sudden noise that rocked their sleepy city. The man found an abandoned shop and slipped in. He barricaded the doors as best he could then found an out of the way spot to sit down in. He held his weapon blade down next to him to inspect it. It was a finely crafted weapon, nearly four feet of blade bolted into a long blunderbuss. A specially modified weapon called a gunblade. Gunblades were rare and difficult weapons. Very few metalsmiths desired tainting the ancient art of sword-making to fuse their craft with that of the newly created guns as they were called. The difficulty of the gun blade was the gun, as one had to be sure not to fire it off until they were ready. Many gunblade users had died from their own misfires. He pulled a cloth from out of his belt pouch and wiped the blade off, discard the cloth into another corner after he was done. That was the fifth one in three nights, he muttered to himself. He layed the weapon down and removed his leather jacket. It was getting beat up fairly badly from the fighting. Gashes and burn marks were all over it now. He'd have to repair it soon. He leaned his head back and let out a slow, deep breath. His mind was emptied of all thought as he tried to rest his body. Only a few hours of moonlight left before he would have to wake up all over again to assume his daylight persona. The coolness of the night washed over him, feathering his skin like the hands of sultry vixen. He took another deep breath and closed his eyes. The clattering of footsteps in the distance kept him from drifting too far into his mind. Muffled shouts alerted him to the townguard being roused. He pulled his jerkin back on quickly and picked up his gunblade. Looking around, he decided it best to slip out a window in the back. The window opened without much noise and he worked his body out of it and into the street behind the shop. He closed the window and darted his eyes back and forth and made for the edge of town. Hopefully he could keep one step ahead of the townguard. He sheathed his gunblade behind his back and took off, the ringing of the alarm bell from market square breaking the still of the night.....