Short Stories And Fan Fiction From A Gamer

“Firearms?! What would be a …soldier…, an Earthrealm Soldier? No…It couldn’t possibly be…” Firearms had become increasingly scarce in the region; it had been a long time since Ahngrim had set eyes on one, nearly 16 years ago during the invasion of Oblivion Mountain. It was said that only military organizations and armies had the power to own these firearms, much less being able to recover the lost technology for making them. The 2nd Dimensional War destroyed about 3/5’s of Earth’s remaining land mass, bringing an end to most massive civilizations. This eventually gave rise to Earthrealm, The Principality of Nurach, Humanbane, and the many various military organizations which plague Earth and pretty much whole of the Crevi Galaxy.

As he turned the corpse around, his biggest nightmare came to reality. He had just injured his best friend, Agares. Ahngrim dropped his blood-soaked dagger; his weak trembling knees found the cold and wet floor, stunned and oblivious to what he had done at the same time. “What would Agares be doing here in the wee hours of dusk? Why is he in a soldier’s uniform? Why did he want to take my life!? Why? Why? Why!” Ahngrim was puzzled and wanted answers to the many questions that flooded his mind. He then let out a loud cry and placed both hands onto Agares’s shoulders, shaking him hoping that he would awake.

Unwillingly, he searched Agares’s unconscious body. He found a crescent shaped metallic object pinned onto Agares’s uniform pocket, the initials “C.M.E” were engraved onto the object. Ahngrim also discovered the weapon which had injured him, it was some sort of a blade launching mechanism, something like a gun-blade, and he also found a pistol without any shells inside. As Ahngrim was inspecting the object, he sensed that something was amiss. In the midst of the faint moonlight, Ahngrim heard weird sounds coming from the near distance as he detached the blade from its trigger component.

Two massive claws suddenly smashed down onto the murky water as he abruptly stopped to scan his surroundings. The mutant-like creature swaggered slowly towards Ahngrim, flailing its claws and picking up pace with each step. The creature’s tail was coated with a thin layer of what seemed like poison, with threatening spikes jutting out from the edges of its tail, it also had a collar leashed around its neck with the same initials of “C.M.E” engraved upon it. Suddenly, a strong gust of wind blew past. Being a genius in the art of environmental combat that he was, Ahngrim manipulated this to his advantage. Under tremendous amount of pressure substantiated from the wind, particles of water and dust orbited around his feet as he flash stepped towards his enemy. Within a split second, his newly found blade severed one of the monster’s legs, ending off with a stylish victory pose as he landed right behind the enormous creature. The worse was still yet to come though, the creature then let out a growl and lunged towards Ahngrim, unaffected by the lost of its limbs. Both men and creature then engaged in a long stand off of blades versus claws, trying hard and desperate to land a hit on each other.

"Swoosh!" the monster’s gigantic scaled tail came crashing down onto the water as Ahngrim leaped out of the way just in time to evade the lethal blow. Thinking that he would have enough time to sneak a slash in, he charged towards the monster with rage building in his fired up body, only to be smashed to the wet ground as his blade parried the menacing strike.

“Ugh…” Ahngrim let out a painful moan.

Picking himself up, Ahngrim used his blade to support his weakened and battered body as he exerted his body pressure onto the sword whilst struggling to stand up. With one final ounce of strength left, he swung his blade and pointed at the beast with a stern look on his face.

“Die in the name of Agares!” He yelled with tear-filled eyes of hatred and sorrow.

It was now or never for Ahngrim, to end the beast’s life in one final strike or risk falling in battle from exhaustion. Many thoughts of Agares were filling his mind as he continuously told himself to make the move now. However, without much warning, Ahngrim was caught unawared as the foe suddenly came crashing head-first into his chest, throwing his drained body onto a murky puddle of water.Ahngrim faltered onto the moist ground like a lifeless bird, his body reaching its threshold. Images of Agares and his master flashed through his mind as he slowly fade into a state of unconsciousness.

Agares Blightwood was a man of high integrity, an upholder of upright moral values and a loyal young man. He had slightly tanned skin and a silvery mane given to him by the gods, everyone called him the “Silver Wolf”. He could arguably be considered one of Ahngrim’s closest friends; they met on that very fateful day after the invasion of Oblivion Mountain. Unlike Ahngrim, he wasn’t wholeheartedly accepted by everyone just then. He was probably 8 and a half at that time, many rumors was floating around claiming Agares to be a Bastorian during that phase. Nevertheless, under the guidance of master Zephrius, he was polished into the good man and fine warrior he is now.

Sadly, tomorrow would be the day of reckoning for Ahngrim and him. Contrary to tradition, both of them had to compete with one another in a no holds barred duel, in which the winner would have the responsibility to fulfill the master’s duties after he passes on. It has been a tradition carried on since past times, having a deep place in Zephrius’s old heart. No one dared to defy old master Zephrius’s decision; everyone had to respect his decision. According to the annals, a master has to choose his successor from two of his best students when he feels that he has reach an old age and is not able to carry on soon.

Agares trotted towards the edge of the mountain, reflecting upon a big tree and praying for the heavens to show him a way. Though he knew such a thing would not happen, he was desperate for an answer. Questions continuously came to his mind as he stared into the beautiful crimson sky. “What should I do, Sigh. If only I wasn’t chosen as one of the duelists…” Agares was known to put others before himself; he would always try to please the ones around him and would do anything for the sake of his friends. There were times when paranoia would strike him; he always tried to appease the ones close to him.

“Creak”, the wooden door opened. Ahngrim entered, looking exhausted after a long day of training. He threw his blade onto the ground, blade first. The blade always seemed to sink itself into the same spot; he never missed it a single once. “Forgive me master…” he muttered to himself, while taking out a cigarette from the half filled packet. Ahngrim looked like he had finally come to a decision. He hastily went over to his cupboard, packed his things and then left for Death’s Gaze Tunnel at the other end of Oblivion Mountain. Everyone had been warned never to enter the tunnel, rumors saying that an ancient beast resided in there whereas others claim there to be the only path to the outside world. Of course, Ahngrim had better things to do than believing the former claim.

Little fragments of Ahngrim’s childhood kept reiterating in his mind; he had always wanted to find out more about his origins and heritage. Furthermore, he would rather be beaten to death than stand the fact that he would have to go into a duel with his best friend. The path to Death’s Gaze Tunnel was treacherous; rocky landscapes and narrow bridges, nothing any adventurer would like to encounter. Alas, after an hour of traveling, Ahngrim had finally reached the entrance of the tunnel, two stone sculptures of what seemed like gargoyles stood by the door with threatening ruby eyes. “Danger! Enter at your own risk” A signpost read. Ahngrim then smirked and laughed to himself. The atmosphere inside was different, it was almost pitch black but the flash light was sufficient to provide some navigation. He began to feel chillier as he traversed deeper into the tunnel, a bad stench also started developing, something just wasn’t right.

“Bang”, a loud shot was heard. In an instant, Ahngrim lost grip of Sciilatia, immediately placing his hand on his right shoulder. “Gah, what the hell?” Ahngrim mumbled, as he continued putting pressure on his wound. It appeared that Ahngrim had been wounded by some sort of projectile. “Who’s there? Whoever you are, show yourself now!” Ahngrim picked himself up, without much thinking he decided to leave Sciilatia behind and made a run for it. His right arm was just too weak to wield such a massive blade; he had rarely practiced his swordsmanship on his left arm either. It was also foolish of him to leave his sword strap behind at home. The moonlight was getting scarcer; he had to start relying on his other senses to make his way through and try to detect this hidden foe.

10 minutes of endless running and he had still not reached the end of the tunnel, how long more could he endure until succumbing to fear? He crouched down panting, trying to catch back his breath. He then heard a sound, the sound of a trigger about to be fired. Ahngrim quickly rolled over to his side, dodging the projectile. He was finally able to see his enemy. Dagger on his left, he charged towards the foe in a side winding manner. “Boom”, several shots were fired but none of them hit Ahngrim. With a final boosting step from his right leg, he propelled himself forward and plunged the dagger into his foe’s chest, instantly shattering the man’s ribs with the force.

“Fool…” He then took out his flash light and shined it onto his pursuer for a clearer view. Ahngrim then stood there, motionless and shocked.

He swung his blade into a wide arc, only to hear the sound of the wind as he missed his target. “Too slow!” a burly and disgruntled voice came from the background. The man moved in slow but steady steps, dodging all of Ahngrim’s strikes. It was as if the man knew Ahngrim like a book. His looks did not in one way contradict with his prowess. It could be seen that the man should be at least in his 50s, standing at about 5 feet 10. He was calm and wise in appearance, just like what a master would look like. Zephrius “Reflux” Exodia was his name, having taking in Ahngrim in as his disciple when he was merely a child.

He had found Ahngrim lying in one of the caves of Oblivion Mountain 16 years ago, when Ahngrim was only 8 years old. “Concentrate, you fool!” Zephrius continued to spur him on as flashbacks came back to him. In an attempt of desperation, Ahngrim chained a few strikes, 2 mid waist hacks followed by a fatal uppercut. “It this all you’ve got! What ever have I thought you?” Zephrius bellowed. Ahngrim was able to land a hit this time, but only to be parried by his master’s fan.

It could be seen in Ahngrim’s eyes that he was giving it all he got and that he would not put anything back on his strokes, hatred could be seen in his eyes as well. His master started on the counter-attack. With the opening of his fan, he moved gracefully across the stone floor, dust rising with each step. Ahngrim was caught off guard and received 3 blows on his chest. “Ugh, master, you leave me no choice”, a wicked grimace could be seen on his face. “Come on and get up now you fool!” As Ahngrim dug his blade into the floor and rested upon it, his master made the second move. “Ha!” It seemed like Ahngrim had applied some illusion and deception now. He pushed the dug blade with his palm which then forced him back on his feet, dodging all of the master’s blows.

It would seem that Ahngrim would be better off un-armed but he was always fascinated with power as a child. That was why he decided to wield Sciilatia, a blade forged by the great fires of Drognan, last great capital of the Earthlings. On the other hand, his master was a great practitioner of martial arts, putting Ahngrim through hell to help him strengthen all his five senses. “That will be all for today, Ahngrim” Zephrius said as he fanned himself and headed towards the other disciples.

During the 3^rd Dimensional War, Oblivion Mountain was invaded by the Earthrealm Humans; they were in search for the fugitive Bastorians which broke free from a Prison some 30 miles north of Oblivion Mountain. This was when Ahngrim first caught of glimpse of the blade, Sciilatia. It was wielded by Lieutenant Commander Roger Wilkins of Earthrealm at that time. The commander had led the 43^rd battalion into Oblivion Mountain, mistaking Master Zephrius and his disciples for the fugitives. They engaged in a battle which lasted for 2 days, most of which Master Zephrius and his disciples played a hit and run game. Ahngrim was only 12 then. In the final hours of the battle, a few crack troops chased Ahngrim his friends across the mountain range after their commander fell in battle, this was when he put Sciilatia into good use. Ahngrim saw the blade, glowing brightly in the midst of the battle, it was as if the blade spoke and tempted him to pick it up. Was it by chance or fate that he found it? It was then where Ahngrim had first slain a man; the powers of the blade were undeniable.

Ahngrim was still haunted by the events of the past, he is much more matured now though. He stood at about 6 foot tall, with a distinguishable scar that stretched from the edge of his left eye to his right cheek. Anyone could recognize him from afar with his red hair; he also had nice beady eyes and a trademark grin. One would say that he was tall, dark and handsome, just about what any girl’s dream man would look like. He would now have to make the decision of his life.

“Trust me, I will live on and fight until the end even if it means going against my master"

As Ahngrim unsheathed his dagger, he began to hear sounds from the distance with each passing second. Silent foot steps that threatened to tease him. His heart began pounding faster as the foot steps drew closer. Blood dripped from his soaked right shoulder which he had suffered from a stab in the previous encounter with "him". The trickling of his blood onto the murky sewer waters also impeded his judgment in the darkness. Ahngrim didn’t have time to think anymore, he had to act fast. He took his cigarette, anchored it on his mouth and then made his move.

Blessed with a solid, muscular physique doubled with nimble reflexes, he pranced through the shadows as if a cheetah going in for the kill. Blade held by his side in a arch-like grip, scanning through the abyss for his predator.