Uega Ren Vakir

Hola amigos. I'm officially far enough into this that I'm confortable with posting it. Couple things to knock out of the way, first:

1. Note: I recommend reading Irim Da Ravola before reading this, as this is its sequel. This should be interesting on its own, but still.

2. Disclaimer: Will contain violence, detailed descriptions of gore in some parts, and language/content that may be found offensive. I advise that you read it anyway, but you've been warned.

3. The content posted by me in this thread IS copyrighted by me. Don't try to steal it.

And now, without further ado, the prologue to Uega Ren Vakir.


Prologue: Hero of Radiance

?Shadow Prism!?
The silent warrior shone brightly not only in important moments, but even as he took simple steps. As he walked through the raging chaos of the battlefield around him, he was the one star who was visible through the massacre, the one warrior who might be able to make a difference. And yet, he walked. Slowly but steadily, questioning his action further with every passing moment.
With the shadowy attacks flying from his enemies and ceaselessly blinding light roaring from the hands of his allies, the battlefield was ablaze in the fiery wrath that subsided only to the flooding darkness. But the shimmering soldier continued on his hushed stride, not getting involved in the battle except with those who got in his path.
In those cases, he would silently duck under whatever attack they might throw and ram his shoulder into their back, piercing their flesh with his white-crystal-studded shoulder braces and leaving them to suffer on their own.
After a few minutes on his silent path, he reached the defined limits of the war. The edge of the fighting, so to speak. At that point, he stopped. Taking a deep breath, he stared over his shoulder at the devastation taking place behind him. As much as he wanted to help, he had no place there. It was in the best interest of the future of the world that he continued on his chosen path. But many of the warriors out there were some of his closest friends?
?Orion!? shouted a familiar voice from somewhere nearby.
Clenching his fists as his white cape fluttered in the wind rushing from the battle, he reluctantly turned his back on the fight and continued to walk away.
His eyes fell on a strangely out-of-place tent just a short distance away from the battle. A man wearing strange yellow clothing leaned out of an open flap, motioning for the radiant warrior to hurry.
But the man only resumed his quietly stable pace, taking each step as they came as if restraining an urge to turn back and run into battle.
?Orion, you know what we must do!?
The man called Orion gave a reluctant nod and broke into a run just as a ball of black light rushed through the spot where he had been standing only moments before. Without any further delay, he had ducked into the tent and the flap had been closed. It was clear that there were more than just the two people inside, but exactly how many was something that no one in the battlefield could be certain of.
There was silence in the tent for several moments. Not a calm silence, but an awkward one. The noise was conspicuous through its absence, and the quiet pierced through even the sounds of the close by war. Those closest to the tent stopped fighting and turned to watch the tent as it seemed to be surrounded by a strange glow that it itself emitted.
After several moments, there was a bright flash, blinding the audience momentarily. When the brightness faded, it was clear that the base of the hiding place had erupted in pure white flames.
By now, the bright flash had drawn the attention of most of the soldiers, with only a small fraction of the multitudes still fighting. The ones who still attacked continued to rain black light onto any enemies which stood nearby.
Then a stranger thing happened: the wind blowing toward the edge of the fight seemed to double in velocity. It fanned the blazing white inferno until the flames entirely surrounded the otherwise peaceful tent.
Without any warning, a storm had formed. It began to rain with fierce determination, strong enough to hinder the flames but not to put them out. As the entirety of the war now stared through the storm into the fire, a stray bolt of lightning reached down from the clouded sky and grabbed the fire, causing the flames to burst higher with small traces of static electricity.
Even with the loud crackle of the thunder, no one budged. For the white flames surrounding the tent seemed to subside as if on cue from some unknown controller. They slowly crawled down the fabric until they reached the muddy ground and then vanished.
For what felt like an eternity to those watching, it was a complete silence. The only decipherable noise came from the patter of the falling rain.
Then, just as suddenly as the flames had died, the tent exploded in a flash of golden light, engulfing more than twice the area of the original blaze with a magnificent aura. The warriors who had not been knocked over by the force of the explosion shielded their eyes as a glorious stream of multicolored light burst from the gold and shot out from the display and rocketed off to some unknown location.

For centuries, folklore and fable alike have predicted the rising of the ultimate evil: the son of darkness. The tales of his coming varied widely with each passing generation; the stories were as common among country folk and thieves as they were among soldiers, but were much different depending on the teller. Even some high ranking shamans, those who claim that they have mastered the art of foresight, insisted that this dark being would one day rise from the shadows and claim his spot as ruler over a chaotic world.
According to the prophecy outlined by these mages, the creature will be of an origin familiar to the world. He will be born the son of a ruthless species. Some believe this species to be the Jauvi, the religion based on those warriors who have devoted their lives to the ways of shadows. These ruthless creatures kill with graceful and swift destruction. Having unlocked their full mental potential as a part of their training to become what they are, many shamans are convinced that the Jauvi will be the base for the creation of the ultimate evil.
Ten years ago to the day, rumors began to spread regarding the coming of a dark warrior. The rumors insisted that this warrior submerged himself in the purifying waters of an enchanted spring known in myths as Wetre Kaluj. Some believe the warrior changed his ways that day, casting his dark past to the shores of the spring. And since that day, the folklore has been evenly split between believers of different aspects. Many believe that the son of darkness will still arise, forcing his ways onto those around him. But since that day, new rumors have begun.
Legends foretell of a mystically radiant hero, fighting through the shadows in defense of his brethren. A silent but stern defender, battling back against the sadistic species that opposes his kind. A white warrior, traversing the very bounds of life itself as he accepts his place in the never-ending war between good and evil.

?Zu velard nekran??
The seemingly unaffected army of green skinned soldiers paused at the hiss of their master. They had been questioned as to whether or not the were afraid of their death, and such a fear was considered treason in Jauvain culture.
?Zu velard nekran?? demanded a figure clad in black robes at the front of the army. ?Your enemies do not fear their fate when they walk into battle? what right do you, a superior species, have to allow you to feel fear??
There was silent unison in the Jauvain soldiers as none of them were willing to respond in any way that might annoy their master..
?You, the ravagers of all living things, will NOT be afraid of your own demise!? commanded the robed figure. ?You WILL obey me! Prove your worth!?
A united snarled, followed by a blur of demented laughter as the creatures attempted to kill one another.
The green warriors continued the demolition, as if taking part in some sort of twisted scrimmage. They would blast each other with this darkness, fall to the ground when hit, and stand back up to redeem themselves.
?Death will not find you until you allow it to! Zakama fro falin! Virey zumes!?
The robe figure broke back into his sick laughter as the Jauvi followed his order to attempt to kill one another. They continued to blast each other without a second thought, but none were strong enough to kill one of their own kind.
Then, in an instant, the laughter stopped.
?Salisate?? the figure muttered, bringing the entire army to a simultaneous halt. Without any further warning, several of the creatures fell to the ground in small heaps. ?Sen vat lan edlis??
At the knowledge that they were not alone, the soldiers began glancing around themselves, searching for any sign of an attacker. But they found nothing.
All was silent for several moments, a silence broken only by the rushing of a comet-like ball of black light. The shadowy orb fluctuated with pulses of white electricity and was closely followed by a trail of black and white light.
Before anyone could react, the enormous blur had crashed into the central group of the legion, causing a vast white explosion. Those closest to the epicenter of the blast were washed away like so many ants in a flood, incinerated on contact. Almost the entirety of the remainder was knocked over as the white dome began to dissipate.
As the energy finally faded, a figure wearing entirely white clothing materialized where the comet had struck the ground, a long and slightly curved blade in his hands.
?Virey!? Hissed the robed figure as an black orb formed in his hand. ?Cez ren sefen hamez!?
Instantly, all of the remaining soldiers were back on their feet and had, in unison with their masters, fired an orb toward this white assailant.
The target of all the attacks clenched his fist in front of him and was surrounded by a mysterious aura. Before the blackness could reach him, all of the spheres exploded in a dazzling spiral of darkness around him.
After a few moments, this energy, too, had faded. But the white warrior was no where to be found.
Without leaving time for speculation, he fell from seemingly nowhere into the crowd and slid his blade across the spine of the nearest Jauvi. With his already bloodstained katana, he spun around in a tornado-like movement, slashing all Jauvi within a five foot radius of his arms.
With all of the creatures around him collapsing in a pool of their own blood, the white warrior stood quietly, his sword held out in front of him so that the tip of the blade was pointed directly at the robed master of the Jauvi.
?VIREY!? commanded the now infuriated master as several more spheres of shadow rocketed toward the mysterious attacker. But, just before they collided with his flesh, he disappeared into a puff of white smoke, leaving the army to regroup itself for a later assault.

« Last edited by Seos san Nekros on Feb 16th 2007 »

As I said on MSN, it owns. Far too early to make guesses, and I can't see anything wrong with it. Great start.

Yay, Jauvi wars episode II: The Light strikes back!

Great intro, I've been waiting for this since the end of the last one!

Blackninja: Thanks a lot.

Sotek: Nice to have a fan.

Very nice, so far. One discrepancy, however - in the third paragraph, when the master says, ?Death will not find you until you allow it too! Zakama fro falin! Virey zumes!? isn't there supposed to be one 'o' in the highlighted text?

« Last edited by Cipher_Wizard on Sep 18th 2006 »

Yes. thanks for pointing that out.

Yay, I helped.

Enjoying the fic thus far... when can we expect the next chapter? Not pestering you or anything, but I'm just curious.

Not sure yet. I try not to use a schedule, just in case I don't get enough replies.

...And you don't have enough replies now?

Great stuff, Nekros. I wonder who the white and black figureheads are... ;) Next chappy'll be great.

This bump has been brought to you by no-one important. Please disregard this part of the post.

I'll bet the hooded figure that commands the soldiers is Maziel...

No comment.

Chapter 1: Amarth

?Splash? splash? splash??
Not only could I hear the soft whistling of the rain, but I could feel it? I had grown so used to the storms that the rain was a part of me.h
?Splash? splash? splash??
The familiar sound of the drops pelting into the street and sidewalk barely even reached my ears anymore.
?Splash? splash? splash??
It was a constant, the ceaseless storm burning through my mind in spite of my efforts to ignore the gale. And even though I was familiar with it by now, it was an unbearably ever lasting burden on my shoulders as I walked through the otherwise quiet dark of night. I couldn?t help but hope for a pause, and yet it drove on?
?Splash? splash? splash??
It was all around me, somewhere between a cast and a watery coffin. But I, like the incessant squall I felt, continued, not straying from my path even for a single stride. Tonight I was fortunate. The sounds of the pouring rain were quieted, or at least masked, by the sound of steady footsteps from the shadows in front of me.
I knew he couldn?t have gotten far ahead of me, and it was even more clear to me that he would be no match for me. But my interests were much more important than his simple death.
I had been following the misty creature since his intentional run in with an unfortunate couple, a very elderly couple who were brought to their premature graves by the object of my pursuit.
For quite some time, the only proof I had that he was still in front of me were the soft knocks of his footsteps. But soon enough, we came to a slight clearing in the shrouded fog of the abandoned park. My movement slowed to a crawl as he stepped out into the open, and I could finally see where we were. I could see the street he walked over toward the secretive darkness of a nearby alley. But I remained silent and still, looming on the edge of the park in the shade of the towering red wood trees.
He walked until I could see nothing of him but a blotch in the shadows of the pathway, one that I could barely see through the rain and fog. I was ready to step out from the cover of the lanky tree when I saw something extremely peculiar, especially when referring to the actions of a Jauvi.
Usually the Jauvi were creatures of focus, rarely straying from the exact orders of those who commanded them. If they were assigned to kill something, they would either simply do so or they would kill it then horrifically destroy the corpse in some way. But this Jauvi was different somehow. I was certain that his orders had been involving the demise of the elderly couple I had seen him attack earlier. Yet, in the darkness of the alleyway he had ducked into, he had stopped. Right in his tracks, right in the middle of the alley.
I stood quietly, ducked over and watching the creature for any signs of what he might be doing. My first though was that he knew I was watching, but subtlety wasn?t a trait possessed by these creatures. I knew he would attack me if he had the chance.
Yet he stood completely still. I couldn?t make out details through the shadows, but he appeared to be staring down the alley as if waiting for someone.
?Your fate has been decided.?
The strangely ominous voice sounded from the darkness of the abandoned town. It was a somewhat high pitched voice, with a calmness that somehow brought a sense of intimidation to the scenario. It was the voice of dignified power.
At first I thought the sentence was directed toward me, but the outline of the Jauvi seemed to shift uncomfortably at the sound of the voice.
?Your choices have been laid out for me to present, and they are limited,? continued the voice as another shadowy figure moved into my line of sight. He somehow carried his voice without shouting at all, and maintained the calm tone.
I knew the speaker was not Jauvain even though I couldn?t fully see him. For I had never known a Jauvi to speak English on their own free will. But I could also tell he wasn?t friendly, no matter how calm he seemed. It was obvious that the man?s reputation proceeded him, for the Jauvi was noticeably shaking with fear.
?Jexen?? the trembling Jauvi mumbled. I knew this wasn?t a Jauvain word, so I could only assume that it was a name.
?Silence,? the shadowy man hissed. Through the shadows I could see the faint rustling of some sort of trench coat around this creature. ?No amount of whimpering protest will save you, for your options are set in stone. You will either bring as many as you can to the gathering or you will die. Should Lord Maziel disagree, he can expect new enemies for his pathetic army.?
?We?ll? come?? the terrified soldier replied hesitantly. ?I?ll get as many as are willing??
?A wise decision,? the ominous voice said simply, a small laugh escaping his mouth as he turned away.
Before myself or the Jauvi could move, the strange messenger had begun to walk away, and he vanished into the darkness soon enough. I could almost feel the sigh of relief escaping the Jauvi.
And yet still, he remained motionless. I leaned back and prepared myself, but yet another figure moved into the alley before I could take a step.
Startled, I crouched in front of my tree and struggled to hear what was being said. The shadows of the Jauvi and the newcomer were circling around one another as if preparing for a fight.
?You would ally yourself with Jexen?? spoke the new figure in a deep voice.
As far as I could hear, the Jauvi made no reply.
?Disgusting creature,? growled the man, crossing his arms as a sudden gust of wind blew his long hair around behind his back. I could barely tell what was going on, but it appeared that the Jauvi was becoming irritated.
Before I knew what was happening, the dark soldier had leapt into the air and come down on the newest figure, who swiftly spun around and kicked the Jauvi square in the chest, sending it backwards against the alley wall. I hadn?t seen such rapid technique in quite some time, and the power behind the kick astounded me beyond words.
The attacker knelt down over the wounded creature for a few moments, seemingly strangling it. Then he abruptly stood up and leaned against the wall, outlining something with his finger. Without a pause, he glanced down at the creature and kicked it again in the chest before turning and walking down the alley.
I didn?t move for several moments, ensuring that the mysterious assailant was gone. I was stifling both rage and curiosity, furious that I didn?t get the creature myself yet wondering who the attacker could be. After the footsteps faded into the night, I slowly began to step through the ruined street.
Once I was in front of the Jauvi, I stopped. Studying him, I found his neck to be twisted at an odd angle, with a stream of blood pouring from an open wound. Barely fazed by the sight, I looked up to the wall. There I found even more confusion. There, written on the wall in a red liquid, were the words ?Praise Amarth.?
Glancing back and forth between the corpse and the writing, I slowly remembered the attacker and turned my head to look down the alley, but he was long since gone. Turning back to the Jauvain body, I examined it more closely to find a broken chain around its neck, as if some sort of medallion had been pulled from it.
Before I had time to speculate, I heard footsteps rushing from the other end of the alley toward me. Without hesitation, I vanished into the shadows, finding a private space to consider the events of the night.

« Last edited by Seos san Nekros on Sep 21st 2006 »

I wonder who the narrator is now. On another note, I like it, but suggestions and speculations will be withheld for later chapters.

And now for the random portion of this post - go to your RP.

« Last edited by Cipher_Wizard on Sep 20th 2006 »

'tis Auren, d00d. Anyone can see that.

fraid Pan is right, Cipher. And thanks for the comments.

Done.

Didn't want to spoil anything for those who didn't read Irim Da Ravola...

I hope that the following chapter will be as good as the last.

If I know Nekros (and I do) it will be. I also hope Auren gets a nice sword, maybe a white one like his old black one. Or maybe he'll just own Maziel only to find that he was just a puppet for another criminal mastermind. Oh, and Russell must come back! Auren's lady friend, too, but Russell especially. Maybe this guy is he?

You really don't like people being dead, do you?

I'm just a little bit curious as to why Russell seems so popular.

'Cos it's a conspiricy of course. no one can come up with the next bit without reviving Russell or, you know, thingy... Anyway, when can we expect the next chapter?

Nice chapter. Just one thing...

"Before I knew what was happening, the dark soldier had leapt into the hair"

I'm assuming you meant to say air. Hair seems slightly out of context...