My NaNoWriMo Novel based off of League of Legends. Please Enjoy.
It's been a long day, and all I want to do is go curl up in my bed away from the ingrates of society. I live among them to hide. I do not have to enjoy it though. Every waking moment is self-sacrfice, but I do not abhor it. One day it will pay off. One day I...
"Ex, excuse me," wheezes a crotchety old voice behind me. I sigh and turn around. As expected, he is nothing more then your average beggar. Dirty clothes, dirtier hair, no shoes, missing teeth, broken nails. Yep, all in order. However, there is some kind of something swimming across my subconscious.
"I have no money for you. Sorry," I quickly turn back around so I don't have to see his eyes. Those poor starving eyes. One day I say to myself and clench my glass tighter. I will right the wrongs of the powerful, and they will answer. To me. Time ticks by; he is still standing there. It's not his smell that accosts me most, its his breathing. I can hear the irritation of seven day work weeks. Of the tar and smoke that pollutes the air. His hands are gnarled and hardened from the stress of the machinery. His dirty feet are covered in sores from rocks and bites. His eyes are full of cataracts. His heart will proabably give out any second...
I turn back around. He's alive I remind myself. That's what matters. I sip the cheap ale this place serves. My hood is pulled low enough I can peer out from under it, but he can't see my eyes. Now that he has my attention he suddenly seems to remember how to speak as he opens his mouth and says, "N,no I don' beg ma'am. I trade."
I look him up and down again, and almost laugh out loud. He hasn't anything I could want or need. I say nothing, hoping he will get the hint. He stands there, fidgeting, and I roll my eyes under my hood. If he's supposed to be some kind of thief, then he's a really horrid one. And If he's in the line of promiscuity then he needs to find another customer, considering half his teeth are missing, and there's a huge boil on his nose. My patience is ebbing away, and it has almost run out.
"W,would you like to trade, ma'am," he says, standing there grinning like an idiot. He has no reason to smile.
I fix him a glare, "And you believe, you would have something I would want?" He nods. "Well?" I question. He simply stands there. Severly annoyed now, I drop the **** they claim is ale back on the counter and get up to leave. I make it almost out the tavern when I hear his footfalls behind me. "Legends," he says. I turn back around.
Standing now, I realize how crooked his back is. I am easily a foot taller then he. "What," I say, hoping he will become mute again.
"I trade Legends," he murmers.
He nods. "I know of many Legends."
"I don't need Legends. I need..." but he cuts me off.
"E,everyone needs legends. They help the lost."
I stand there, my fists on my hips. I quickly scan the place, but it's relatively empty. Something isn't right, but I can't put my finger on it. I decide to indulge him. I have time to spare, and in all honesty being in here is much better then being out there. "Fine," I say, "how much for your 'Legends'."
"One gold piece per," he replies giving me his half tooth grin. One gold piece. Is this what the world has really come to. I agree, and he points me to a table in the back of the tavern. I make him lead. Demacia the city where the streets flow in prosperity. Where justice previals. Where the weak have nothing to fear. Oh Demacia, how you have fallen.
The truth is, I don't want to be a cold, heartless person. I would gladly give him all the money I have on me, but then what about the next one and the next one after? If you give one person help the rest flock to you, and if you can't help all of them then it becomes your fault. He clears his throat loudly, and it almost makes me gag.He then fidgets with the bottom of his shirt, pulling absent mindlessly at a string protruding from it.
"Are you going to start earning your gold friend?" I prompt him. I don't have all day after all.
"Ah,h sorry ma'am," he clears his throat one final time, and then he hooks me. "Have you heard of the Warrior in Chains..."
[Sorry it took me so long to update *cough* thank Skyrim *cough* I've gotten behind but I really plan on finishing this]
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Lies. Betrayal. Murder. It all swam through his mind, buzzing like an angry wasp.
"That's right," the devil woman said. "You served your purpose. It's time for you to let go of your meager existence." Smiling, she relished the thought of finishing what she started. "You have lived much longer then intended. It is time we say 'adieu.'"
He snapped. His hands wrapped around her throat, and he wished nothing more then to squeeze the very life from her. Her face took on a blueish tint, and her manicured nails clawed at the back of his hands. Suddenly she stopped and went very still. His eyes grew wide. Had he killed her?
With horror, he no longer held the woman but instead his wife. He recoiled, dropping her to the ground. His fingers longed to brush against her face. To feel the sweet softness of her skin, but he knew they never would again. His wife and child may just be ashes, but he hears them. They called to him, wanting to reunite with him, but he can't yet. It's not over. The woman on the ground smiled at him. Her little pointed teeth gleamed, and her eyes showed the pleasure she found in torturing him. He turned around in disgust, realizing she knew he couldn't touch her. It's just too painful.
"This is the last time you will use me," he growled, and walked off into the vastness of the desert.
Her lips curled up into a small smile.
"I wouldn't count on that."
Rain pounded down from the heavens. The booming drops turned to a deafening roar as they slapped the tent. This was not what Gabriel had imagined when he had signed into the army. It promised danger, excitement, glory. To make a true warrior out of him. The only things he had experienced however, was rain, boredom, and marching. This was the monotonous cycle that was driving him and many of the other new recruits mad. He had not encountered a single Noxian soldier, and he was growing tired of it. His troop was composed of mostly fresh recruits. They were eager, jumpy, and excited, but that energy was slowly being drained as the storms raged on.
A young man with brown hair plastered to his forehead threw back the tent flap. He quickly rushed inside, but wind and rain still poured in soaking everything.
"Dammit, sorry Gabriel," he muttered. He crossed the room, rain dripping off his soaked clothing. He slid his boots off and tossed them to the end of his cot. They landed with a wet thud. "I'm so sick of this rain."
"It has been raining almost ever since we got here, eh?" Gabriel asked.
"Yeah," Garen replied, while stripping out of his soggy clothes. "Hopefully, one more day of this and we'll be past these d@mn jungles."
"And hopefully, one day you'll remember I'm in here before stripping," he said keeping his head turned.
Garen laughed and finished changing. He then settled back into his cot, clutching an envelope. He slid his dagger across the top, opening it with ease. "Haha," he laughed.
"What's happening this time," Gabriel asked. Whenever Garen laughed out loud it was because he wanted to share something.
"Oh, Lux got in trouble again in school," he replied, continuing to laugh. "Sh, she destroyed a bunch of windows on the third floor."
"Yeah, her powers are going out of control. But, if she can just get through this last year then she can get training some where." He looked wistfully at the letter in his hands and then his gaze flickered onto Gabriel.
"Did you hear anything?"
Gabriel shook his head.
"I'm sure you'll hear from them soon. The mail is kinda slow from the weather. I hear we're moving out soon. We're supposed to be meeting up with one of the other camps."
"Yeah that's what I heard too. Maybe by then it'll stop raining by the time we get there. How long you think we'll be in this hell hole? If I could just get one day in Demacia." He shook his head. "So when are we moving out?"
Garen looked up at the ceiling of the tent. A small spider skidded back and forth as if trying to decide where would be the safest place to make a web. "Soon, hopefully. But they still haven't had any signs of Nox-"
A man walked inside the tent. They both jumped up to salute him but were rewarded with a fresh spray of freezing rain. Both of them fell to their cots, grabbing their blankets. The man rolled his eyes. "It's not that bad you know, and it could be worse," the Sargent said, spitting on the ground.
Unfortunately Gabriel just couldn't hold his tongue. "How so sir?" he asked.
"Well private, it could be raining fire. Would that be better for you? Well?"
"Now if you're done flappin' your gums, I have a small mission for you two to complete." They both perked up at the word 'mission.'" This is what they had been waiting for. Shrugging off their blankets, they both stood at attention.
"Humph," the Sargent said,"that's more like it. We need both of you to run over to one of the other camps. We haven't heard word from them in a few days. More then likely their messenger just got delayed in this weather, but we need to check on 'em. So your mission is to check out everything, and have this," he pulled out a thick envelope,"signed by the General. Understand?"
"Sir, yes sir," they both said in unison. Neither of them could hide the excitement in their voices.
"Oh," he said as an after thought,"under no circumstances are you to engage any Noxians, unless it's self defense. They're tricky little b@stards. We donít need you two running into traps like idiots."
They both assured him that they wouldn't engage even a fly, but the grins on their faces and the fire in their eyes told other wise.
The general sneered and muttered something about idiots and not knowing which way was up on a sword. "Move out asap."
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