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All For Her
The ultimate sacrifice for the ultimate love.
F Luis Alvarez
I'm an avid fantasy reader, as well as gamer. I enjoy Dungeons and Dragons in addition to many other fantasy games (including those on the computer). Magic: The Gathering and Baldur's Gate are a few. I have always wanted to write a good fantasy story, and this is what I consider to be my best one. It has inspired me to write more about Krell and the war for the Necropolis.
All For Her
F Luis Alvarez
All For Her
By Francisco Luis Alvarez, III
The end was nigh. Krell surveyed the battlefield, gloom devouring his face. Thousands dead. Thousands of honest, innocent men, were lying breathless in the putrid marshes. But the battle was net yet through. The necromancer’s forces had been stopped, yes, but he, the Vile Lord, was still alive. He stepped down from the boulder, his shoulders hung in shame. He had lost.
To his left, he heard something whiz past him. His reflexes were so acute that he had turned completely around before the arrow had struck the ground.
The battle is not yet through. He comes for you… not alone.
The bottom half of the note was stained with the messenger’s blood. Innocent blood. Krell stuffed the note away just before he heard the footsteps approaching.
It was time to end this madness. He ran to the edge of the cliff just as the robed figure appeared. His features were darkened by some ever-present shadow looming over him. His black robe never touched the ground, seeming to float above the foul wastes. His fingers twitched eagerly, as an evil cackle escaped from his throat. Three corpses shambled up beside him. They’ll be easy enough, he thought. Krell gritted his teeth.
“Shall we dance, Brother?” he asked.
“Ay, but you know I don’t take well to dancing,” was the figure’s response.
“I don’t suppose your undead slaves do?” Krell replied.
“My, my. You know me well, Brother,” said the necromancer, flicking his wrist, signaling his minions to move forward. In seconds, they surrounded Krell, seeming remarkably fast for dead things. With a single, fluid motion, the rapier was out of its sheath and piercing one corpse through what was once an eye. The corpse turned, attempting to twist the blade from Krell’s hand. With a forceful inward motion, Krell used the blade to push the zombie towards the cliff. He had barely had time to remove the blade before the corpse was over the edge, where it fell; it’s mouth open in an unheard scream. Not forgetting his other opponents, Krell quickly rolled behind one corpse, snapped its head off with his hands, and kicked it off the cliff. He pitched it the head he now held in his hands at the last zombie, so forcefully it knocked the corpse to the ground.
“Not enough, I see. Well, here is my last surprise for you, Brother Krell.” As he spoke, Krell replaced his rapier and drew his longsword, slicing the last corpse to pieces. When he turned, his heart dropped in his stomach. The final challenge was unbearable, unforgivable. This was true evil at it’s worst.
“You bastard! How the hell did you-“ Krell started to scream.
“It’s simple when you are the cause of the Deceased’s undoing. Yes, Krell. I killed her.”
Slowly, shuffling forward to attack, Krell saw the one thing that could break him. Of course, she was different now. Aside from being somewhat rotten, she was bigger, about the size of an Orc now, carrying a massive axe. She had a sapphire pendant, the pendant he had given her, hanging about her neck. Krell fell to his knees. He could not fight something he loved. He could not kill her, whether or not it was truly her. If it looked like her, it would feel like her. It was her body, and he would not desecrate it. Tears flowed from his eyes, and a deep sigh of resignation slipped between his pale lips. She was upon him now, and seeing his current state, she readied herself for a firm, killing blow. She spread her legs apart, raised the axe above her head, and struck…
…the dirt. Krell had rolled out of the way just before the axe hit, drew his rapier, and charged at his brother. Caught by surprise, the necromancer remained in a witless stupor.
“This is for her, you black hearted bastard!” he screamed as he shoved the sword deep through the robes, into the flesh, into the heart, into the soul of the foul thing that was once his brother. He pulled the blade out, and stuck again, again, again. He pulled the sword from the last wound and watched the last of the necromancer’s life flee from his chest. As soon as the sword was out, something made a large thud behind him. Krell turned to see her, on the ground, an undead beast no longer. She had been poised to strike just before the necromancer had died, just before his hold over her had been destroyed. Just before she had returned to her home in the stars. She had been ready to take him home with her. She had wanted him with her. And he wanted to go. He removed her pendant from her corpse and clutched it tightly in one hand as he lifted his sword in the other. As the cold steel pierced his heart, a sense of satisfaction fell over him. He had won.
|READER'S REVIEWS (3)
DISCLAIMER: STORYMANIA DOES NOT PROVIDE AND IS NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR REVIEWS. ALL REVIEWS ARE PROVIDED BY NON-ASSOCIATED VISITORS, REGARDLESS OF THE WAY THEY CALL THEMSELVES.
"this is a very good story" -- jade.
"Immediate and vivid, especially the fight scene, and a splendid climax. I had one slight problem with it though - in some places I was not sure who the pronoun 'he' referred to, eg 'but he, the Vile Lord' sounds as if Krell is the Vile Lord - 'They'll be easy enough, he thought' - who thought? Also, 'As he spoke, Krell ...' Grammatically, 'he' must refer to Krell, not to the necromancer as is obviously intended. Hope you don't mind me mentioning these small things but they mar what is otherwise a very fine piece of writing. " -- Moya Green, Tamworth, Uk.
"Very good. Dramatic and succesfully descriptive. Keep up the good work. " -- Avis, Mumbai, India.
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© 2002 F Luis Alvarez
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