Rewrite of Legend of Draxxt 0.0 that one could've gone better. And hopefully this is. Now read it and be glad ______________________________ The fire crackled and shuddered, sending a flurry of sparks up. It would've been the ideal time to put another log on, only the hunting party had a little distraction. Not only was their delicious Thran meat burnt, but a Scralz had invaded their camp after smelling it, throwing all the appetites of the inhabitants away. Usually, one of the seven-foot long lizard-like monsters would be no problem. Their spiny armor had weak points, and the long curved horns on the side of their heads provided excellent blind spots. But, alas, this particular one had its sight set straight on them, merciless green eyes glowing in the semi-darkness. It's retractable claws slid out, glinting slightly in the firelight. It's upper lip curled in a low growl, showing its formidable fangs. The trembling hunters could just see it's barbed tail waving behind it. Of course, no one remembered about the guest the frightened hunters had on that night. He had wandered in, requesting to stay in a sheltered area before parting the next morning. This stranger had been accepted warily, for the hunters were not cruel enough to deny a traveler. His hooded black cloak shielded his face, as well as a shadowy black scarf, but it was enough to see that the man's pale green eyes and prove he was not a hated elf, for their eyes were narrow and slanted, and rarely so bright a color. Of course, in the blackness, the cloak also masked his swift approach, his feet barely making a sound. A soft reflection of the firelight showed a naked blade in his hand, long and slightly curved, coming to a sharp tip. The Scralz stopped for a moment as a sharp crack echoed in the clearing, but it was only the fire. It stares forward at a slow, stealthy crawl. It would soon pounce. Only a sharp pain at the base of a low spiny crest on the back of its head stopped it, and the blade retracted from its spine, the monster frozen in it's odd statue-like death. The stranger slipped the scimitar back into it's sheath, and crept back into the embrace of the black night, just beyond the reach of the waning firelight. "Good night, gentlemen" His low voice echoed through the campsite. ~•~ The next morning, the hunters were whispering quietly to one another about their guest. "A demon, that's what 'e is," one muttered through a mouthful of bread, "No man can walk close like that to a Scralz and not be 'eard!" "Aye," spoke another, "Or maybe it's a ghost, protecting travelers like 'imself who fell pray to them beasts?" "Or, perhaps," said the traveler, his eyes glinting as he inspected the hunter. Suddenly he was just there beside them: "I just happen to know how to easily beat them and I was in the camp at the time?" Two men, with twin cries of shock, fell from their seats, identical looks of fear on the faces. The remaining two shook away the stun of the random appearance and glared at him. "Well now, dear fella, I think it's time for you to leave, don't you?" The biggest man spoke in a dangerously low voice. "After all, the agreement was one night." The stranger nodded, spinning on his heel, and strode away, his wraithlike appearance in the morning light bringing an involuntary shudder to the men. Abdiel, as was the name of the visitor, chuckled to himself as he left the camp, picturing the hunters' expression as he stood beside them. Knowing what he truly was - and what made him so stealthy - would cause the hunters regard him with savage hate. Not that it was his fault, but it was the fault of his mother, a disgraced but beautiful Elven woman who had magically altered her looks to appear human for her unknowingly short remaining life, and had taken a rich man for a husband. Which means her son, or daughter, had that been the case, would've been a half-elf, an idea that the Riiths Priests would've called kin to the spawn of the Underworld. This, of course, calls for the immediate death of the infant, and Abdiel's mother had fled from her husband, and with the help of a mysterious hermit, had her son. Such births are looked on by the Gods of Men as a crime, and the long forgotten Gods of Elves as favorable. The blessing by the Elven gods mixed with the curse of the Human gods gave the child a terrible fate. However, the natural grace of elves mixed with the strength of man gave the boy prodigious skills in battle, as well as being trained by the hermit in a forgotten art of swordplay after the death of his mother, who apparently had been killed by nothing. The curse, as Abdiel had come to regard it, ensured that he never lost a battle, but every killing blow he struck marked a scar of the blow on his own body and slight pain in the same place as the attack struck. This rendered Abdiel, who faced battles drawn by bad luck, covered in scars on vital places, marring what was once a handsome face, and giving a horrid look to his strong body. Several scars ringed his neck, where he had severed the head of his opponents. All in all, he was disfigured, but an unyielding optimism , born of unknown origins, made him pleasurable to be around. Provided, of course, you never saw his ears, pointed as the elves, or his teeth, as fearsomely sharp as the elves own. The scars were just an addition to that. Abdiel, ever with that same optimism, didn't mind his fate, or at least he never showed it. Until he was alone for more than a day, upon which he muttered to himself curse upon curse at his heritage. In the end, as always, he convinced himself that this was the work of fate, and stopped his self-pity. At least, when he went without his scarf in town, women did look at him with interest. He was not overly unpleasant to look at, with a mop of raven-colored hair and his smiling green eyes. A slim yet sturdy build, not completely hidden by his bulky cloak, intrigued the women, and his scars promised wild tales. But his reluctance to answer them sent the women away, so he was never romantically interested.
By speechless I mean: OMFG I LOVE IT!!!!!!!!!!!! YOU HAVE TO UPDATE IT OR THE PUPPY GETS IT!!!!!!!!
0.0 what If I had a twin. Two me's = world domination, legalization of gay marriage and drugs (hey everyone needs to be mellow sometimes) ~ yup >.> don't judge me. Now about the story, I love how detailing your writing is. >.> You give me hope that Fan fiction might pull through and be full of amazing stories.
Update time Enough about him, let's get back to his story. After leaving the hunters, Abdiel followed the trail, not overly worried about where he was going. His mind was on the reason he was out there: to find and kill a notorious elf, who had been terrorizing a nearby town, and had killed at least three people, one of which was a child. That set Abdiel into a cold rage, for children were one of his favorite things, though they never seem to like him in return. After all, seeing an odd man who hides his face and wears a black cloak is enough to send most small children into tears, and more older ones running away in terror. But in the end, he still loved them. The town in question, Fjeon by name, was a humble little town, filled with many different races of the Aitbau, the great Southern country. Dwarves, gnomes, sprites, humans, they all lived there. Maybe not on the best of terms, but they were there together. The only problem was, why couldn't they stop one lone elf? The reason was simple: because elves were terrifying. They were the monsters that parents tell their little ones about at night to make them stay indoors, at least besides Irvda's, monstrous horrifyingly nightmares. Because it wasn't an empty threat to scare them, elves would actually eat small children, and they had the sharp teeth to prove it. So Abdiel, ever in the mercy of his heart, set out to rid them of this monster, hoping it would gain a little good favor in his name. That, of course, would tend to stop people from attacking him if he went with his hood down. The hatred of child-killers was only a bonus.