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Stories Write a story to catch Pokemon. A Grader will then decide if it catches or not.

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Old 01-01-2007, 06:41 AM
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Default Origins

((OOC: Well, I finally managed to pump this puppy out into readable form. Standards from my other story apply. Italics = unspoken thought, gray italics = flashback. There is mild language here, but nothing terrible. Basically, if you're offended by donkeys, turds, curses, fatherless children, fiery pits, deities or some skewed combination of them, then you may wish to stop reading. Otherwise, please enjoy the story.))



-Calendar Year 1432, May 24th-
Sunday [01:27 GMT // 1:27 AM]
Skies as red as blood. It was night, but impossible to tell. Burning, swirling mayhem barreled towards the ground, twisting the very air with chaotic fury. Enormous flames spilled forth as the meteor hurled its gigantic mass at the planet’s crust, hunks of rock cascading off in all directions, setting everything in sight ablaze. Whirlwinds of fire and rubble consumed all that once was in this place, smoldering with hectic energy, unyielding to the metal and stone of the victimized city.

The ensuing damage could have been nigh comparable to an atomic bomb, if the people of this era had obtained such technology. A vast crater, smoking and sizzling with flames, now stood where three-quarters of this medieval city had been. Thick, black fog clung to the ground, hanging as some curtain of Death for the fallen.

And at the edge of the town’s destruction, a pile of house turned rubble stirred. A single person, shoving a bulk of splintered wood and crumbling stone off of his body. Coughing through the heavy clouds in his eyes, he tried to stand, relieved to find only minor pain in his shoulder and ankles. Glancing down at the armor he had been wearing during the moment of impact, a thankful sigh left his mouth. Dents and scratches littered the surface of his metal suit, leaving him to doubt his survival had he not been wearing it. Amazingly enough, his head remained relatively unscathed, save for a few small cuts and some rumpled, dusty black hair. Appearing as a man of his early twenties, he began to fumble through the dense clouds surrounding him, trying to find a way to a street or a surviving building… anything that might seem helpful.

The heat was almost unbearable, but he was not about to relinquish the armor that had saved his life. No, it was fear that kept it on his body. Fear of what he might find in this murky sea. Even the extra weight burdening his bones was of little consequence compared to the unease in his mind, so when he finally noticed the longsword still in the scabbard at his hip, he couldn’t help but touch the handle with his palm. Such destruction… he thought blankly, almost surprised at how clearly the words rang through his head. His russet eyes trailed around, trying to take in the sheer damage that had been done to his city as an encompassing mist slowly melted further away from his vision.

Yet there was something strange about this ‘mist’. Its coloration seemed to make subtle jumps between different shades and hues. For a moment, it seemed a deep violet, but then the next, it seemed more scarlet, then maybe a bit golden… An intriguing sight, to say the least.

Suddenly, he stopped. Low, dulled cries echoed throughout the ruined city. Terrible moans, as if even the wraiths of the Underworld were lamenting their own twisted fate. Then a silhouette in the mist caught his eye, forcing his hand to grip the hilt of his sword. The unstable fear tearing through his mind seemed to have a hold on his throat, nearly choking him.

Shuffled steps brought the creature forward, revealing coarse, tough fur around its roughly oval-shaped frame. It was some sort of giant rat. The pair of sharp teeth below its whiskered nose and the grotesquely pink tail at the other end seemed reminiscent of such.

“A monster!?” his mouth gasped as he drew his sword, clutching it fiercely with both hands. But before he could move to defend or attack, another figure appeared.

Uncoiling out of the dense fog, lavender scales covered the elongated body of what must have been an eleven-foot snake. Its ‘neck’ flared out with a bright warning colors painted into the center. Large fangs dripped with venomous intent as it glared harshly at the rat from before.

“What devilry!?” the man nearly shouted through his nobleman’s accent.

The snake lunged, sinking its teeth into the other creature’s light brown fur and twisting viciously as its prey cried out in pain. More and more creatures came forth as the two struggled with one another, filling the hapless man’s vision with what seemed an endless sea of foreign monsters.

His eyes widened with shock as they absorbed the sight before him, and his legs seemed more aware of the danger than his stunned head, for they were already fleeing the scene before he realized that he should run. Even the heavy clinking of his armor lost out to the sound of the beating in his chest.


-Calendar Year 2013, March 9th-
Wednesday [09:38 GMT // 9:48 AM]
“What is a beginning? A place where things are born into a world they know naught of? Or is a beginning really anything at all? A phrase such as ‘today is the beginning of the rest of your life’ would imply that beginnings happen all the time, perhaps even at all times. And yet… there still seem to be certain points in time that hold more importance, so to speak, than others. Are these moments more ‘beginning’ than others? What is a beginning?”

At the humble age of twenty-one, Nathaniel Galderon looked at the question scrawled across the top of his test paper, his chocolate eyes sunken with disappointment. A midterm consisting of one question…? he thought as he looked towards his smiling professor at the other end of the lecture hall. The man only sat there, feet propped up on a heavy desk. You bastard… Nathan sighed. I hate this philosophy crap… He wore a rather plain, but comfortable, long sleeve shirt, white with navy stripes lining the arms. His dark blue jeans held a faint brown tint to them as they led down to a pair of hastily tied, retro tennis shoes. A couple fingers fiddled with the thin, translucent gem clinging to his necklace, its crimson sheen glistening against sterile classroom lights.

The exam had just started, but others around him were already writing furiously, probably concocting some cleverly abstract answer for which they’d need a dozen pages. A glance at his watch told him the morning was nearing ten o’clock. A beginning? Oh, come on. Who the hell cares?! It’s not like giving it some huge definition would make a difference in the real world, anyway! His face twisted with irritation as he ran a hand through his bushy brown hair. A beginning’s just when something new comes along. Anymore than that is just useless babbling… He paused, staring at the tip of the cheap hotel pen he’d found on the floor. Should I put that? Gazing around the room, everyone else seemed much busier than he, apparently full of glamorous ideas. Eh, what the heck? I hate this class anyway. A grin slipped past his lips as he scribbled his answer.

“The start of something new.”

He promptly stood up, quite pleased with himself. But what if he flunks me? protested a stray thought, making him pause. Biting his upper lip, Nathan just stood there for a moment, drawing strange glances as he tried to decide what to do. Would I really be able to just shrug something like that off? The professor’s voice interrupted his thoughts.

“Did you need something, son?”

“Uh…” No more time to think about it! Just choose already! “Uh, I-I’m done.” He could feel hundreds of eyes staring at him, glaring even.

“Oh really?” Professor Uldine remarked with a slight grin, “Well, bring it here then.”

Making his way past the other seated students, Nathaniel tried to ignore the harsh looks and whispers of what he could only imagine were threats upon his life. Beads of sweat tickled his forehead as he descended the long, flat stairs, trying to seem nonchalant for some ridiculous reason. Standing there, in front of the man who would pass judgment on his poor soul, he handed the man the paper.

“…This is one sentence."

“Don’t worry. It’s a good sentence.” I’m an idiot. I’m an idiot. I’m an idiot…

For a moment, Uldine just looked at him wonderingly. “Okay, thank you. You can go, now.” He merely placed the paper on his desk.

“Ah-” Nathan stammered, “You can’t grade it right now?”

“I’ll grade it with the rest later,” he answered, still smiling shamelessly.

“…But it’s only one sentence…”

Pushing up on a thick pair of lenses, the man just said, “Don’t worry. It’ll be a good grade.”

Nathaniel blinked. You bastard…


Wednesday [12:34 GMT // 12:34 PM]
Sitting alone in the midst of the Luthridge University’s vast cafeteria room, Nathan only poked the burrito he’d picked up with a plastic fork as he stared through the acrylic table. Why the heck did I do that? he asked himself, I’m so screwed…

It was the height of the lunch rush, so hundreds of people filled the large chamber. Numerous wide pillars carved with intricate lines and curves held up the domed, glass roof, leaving sunlight to pour down on the crowd of hungry patrons. Voices packed the room with endless noise, setting that familiar sense of hustle and bustle about the area, yet Nathan wasn’t really listening to anything at all. Perhaps it was the gloomy cloud hanging over his head or perhaps people found his hunched demeanor creepy or intimidating, but whatever the reason, he sat by himself.

After getting out of high school, he hadn’t really done much of anything with his life. Two years he whittled away at home, working odd jobs with lackluster effort. Looking back, he hardly even remembered the time he’d wasted. Geez, I’d probably still be there if it wasn’t for Uncle Ethan… Not sure if that’s good or bad though… A sophomore in college now, he found himself pretty indifferent to the whole ordeal. Nothing here had seemed to ‘light a fire under his ass’ like his uncle had said. Well, started resolving thought, I guess it doesn’t really matter if I fail that class, anyway. What kinda job could I get with a degree in philosophy? Fortune-cookie writer? Look out… He almost smirked at his own joke, but he knew things would be more complicated. The sound of another lunch tray tapping against the table stole his attention.

“Mr. Galderon,” came the familiar voice of Professor Uldine, “Mind if I sit with you?”

Oh, great… “Knock yourself out,” he said through a mouthful of stuffed tortilla.

“There’s something important I’d like to discuss with you,” the man explained, unfolding a napkin in his lap.

“Mm?” Nathan hummed, “Come to tell me how horrible my grade is?”

“Oh, not at all. You did fine on the exam.” The professor only sipped a bit of warm soup in between his sentences.

Hell. Yes. Nathan blinked confusedly at the man. “You mean I got an A?”

“Of course not.”

Aww… His head tipped down a bit by the other man’s bluntness. “But… then what did I get?”

“Well…” Uldine started, touching the napkin to his lips before continuing, “Though your answer was quite short, to put it mildly, it also showed me that you held to the idea that there was a very simple answer to the complex question I presented. That kind of thinking is probably more applicable in the real world than most of the other five or six page long answers I received.” He paused for a moment, studying Nathan’s expression. “Plus, I figured you must have a lot of guts to hand in a five-word response like that.”

Do I rock at this education thing or what? “Heh…” His hands wandered back behind his head to emphasize how relieved he felt.

“Hold on there, chief,” the professor said, “Even if your answer was essentially correct, it was still only five words. That kind of carelessness also shows me that you drastically oversimplified the problem. It would’ve helped if you had explained why you thought the answer to be so simple. At least I could have gotten a more accurate assessment of your thought process.”

The little pig squealing inside his head only narrowly missed his mouth. “Ah… haha… so, wha’d I get?” His teeth clenched together, bracing for impact.

Professor Uldine kind of half-smiled. “…B minus.”

Oh God, I think I almost had a stroke… “Oh, okay,” he said, trying not to show his utter relief, “That’s pretty reasonable.” For a moment, he couldn’t help but feel like a hypocrite for his thoughts about how much he didn’t care earlier, yet at the same time… he felt just plain happy, and nothing, not even hypocrisy, could spoil that for him.

“Ah, but that’s not what I wanted to talk to you about.” The man set his plastic utensil down to look more directly at his student. “Do you know why you are here?”

Nathan cocked his head back at the strange question. “What do you mean?”

“Do you know why you are here,” he repeated, “Why you are at this university? At Luthridge?”

“Oh, uh…” Taking a moment, he tried to think of the most honest answer. “I guess… I’m here because of my crazy uncle and all his money.” He shrugged, a little unsure of how much sense it made aloud.

“Okay, but why this school?” the man persisted, apparently looking for something deeper.

Nathan’s brow turned up as he tried to answer. “Well, I just assumed that my uncle liked this place ‘cause it was famous and stuff. You know, because of how they built this place around a meteor that landed here… five hundred years ago?”

“Closer to six hundred, actually. I suppose I can understand why you would think that’s the only reason, though…” The man touched the tip of his glasses as he stared at the table for a moment, apparently thinking about something else.

Last edited by Galleon; 05-13-2008 at 11:35 PM. Reason: "Did I do something stupid?" ...No! ......Maybe......... yes...
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Old 01-01-2007, 06:42 AM
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Default Re: Origins

Nathaniel squinted, wondering why his professor was acting so strangely all of a sudden.

“Tell me, Mr. Galderon,” Uldine went on after a time, “Are you familiar with the Luthridge family?” The quizzical look behind those indigo eyes seemed to know more than it let on.

Taking a long breath, he tried to answer, “Isn’t this school named after someone from the Luthridge family? I guess that’s kinda obvious, though…” He folded his arms, trying to decipher the serious expression on the other man’s face. Well, isn’t this a little suspicious? What the heck does he want from me?

“Yes, the founder of this institution was Samuel J. Luthridge, the same man who invented the predecessor to the modern Pokéball.”

“Yeah…?” Nathan only watched the man expectantly, hoping he would just get to the point already. Apparently, that was too much to hope for.

“You know, this place didn’t become a school until just over two hundred years ago.” Professor Uldine took up his white spoon again, scooping a few morsels of soup. “Originally, Luthridge University was Luthridge Research Institute. Like you said earlier, it was built around the meteor that crash-landed here almost six hundred years ago, so that researchers, like myself, might study it. Of course, there was a rather large city already here, and even though the impact caused massive casualties amongst its citizens, the meteor itself actually served as a means of revitalizing the town, so to speak.”

Nathan broke in, figuring it would be easier if he just told the man what he already knew about this story, “It destroyed most of the city, but in the end, people just came back because they were interested in the meteor. The new flock of citizens rebuilt the town along with this place, right?”

“Correct." Uldine smirked. “At least Ethan managed to impart some knowledge upon you.”

“Eth-“ Nathan raised an eyebrow. “You know Uncle Ethan?”

“Quite well, in fact,” he said with a knowing smile, “We studied at this very university together.”

“Gah, why didn’t you tell me before?” He ran a hand ran through his hair as he listened.

“Mm, I didn’t feel like it.” The man just smiled that aggravating little smile of his. Every time Nathan saw it, he got the feeling the guy was hiding something from him… “But anyway, like I was saying… researchers wanted to study the meteor that landed here. Do you happen to know why people were so interested in it?”

“Ah-” Nathan hesitated, trying to clear his head. “A lot of people think that Pokémon are from outer space and that this meteor was what brought them here, right?” Geez, this is all pretty common knowledge… but this guy makes me feel like I don’t know anything…

“Yes, that is one of the most popular theories to date. Many scientists believe that the wide variety of Pokémon is due to their inherent ability to rapidly evolve, thus making natural mutations progress at a much faster rate than any other species on our planet.” He spouted the words off as if reciting some famous speech or something, staring into his bowl of soup the whole time. “Yet… this seems a bit too presumptuous for many of us.” He almost seemed depressed with his last words.

“You actually study the meteor yourself?” Nathan asked, regretting that he couldn’t keep the surprise out of his voice.

“Of course,” the man replied as a matter of fact, “Did you think I came here to teach philosophy? Psh…”

“Haha,” the younger man laughed, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to assume…”

“Well, I have to study something as long as I’m a ‘professor’ here. Otherwise I’d be an ‘instructor’, and I don’t like that title as much." Uldine just kind of shrugged carelessly.

“So, uh…” Nathan continued shakily, not wanting to be too outright with his interest in the earlier subject, “You don’t think Pokémon came from space? That’s what you were saying, right?” It was difficult to hide the curiosity in his eyes.

“Well, like you, I don’t want to assume anything…” Finishing off his meal, he tapped the napkin to his mouth and laid his spoon down again, perhaps wanting to be more focused on the conversation. “At this point, there’s just not that much evidence to support claims that they originated in space.”

“But aren’t there ancient Pokémon to discredit the theory of them arriving six hundred years ago?” Nathan asked. “I thought someone discovered fossilized evidence.”

“Yes, but there is also reasonable evidence supporting the theory that some Pokémon may be able to travel through time. Even if there is only one that can do it, then that one Pokémon could have gone into the past and done any number of things to spread the influence of similar creatures… It’s truly a perplexing theory…”

“Hm, I see what you mean..." His eyes fell towards the table in thought before easing back to his teacher curiously. “Do you… have a different theory? One where they don’t come from space, I mean.”

“Well, yes, but…” The professor paused, unsure of himself. “I’d rather not discuss it until we gather more evidence. And it’s not like it’s my theory. It’s the team’s theory, and we’re not supposed to discuss it with others until we’re more certain.”

Nathan pursed his lips for a second. Agh, how anti-climactic… “I understand…”

“But,” Professor Uldine started again, “You might be able to help us with that.”

“What do you mean?”

“The reason you’re here; the reason why Ethan wanted to send you to Luthridge University.” He spoke with a bit more fervor than before, as if to say there was something very important in this matter. “Ethan wanted you to help us.”

“You keep saying that, but how can I help a bunch of researchers? You guys are some of the greatest minds in the world! You want the power of my 2.9 GPA?” He almost laughed at the thought of himself in a white coat, standing over a crowd of geniuses and shouting out orders.

“I suppose Ethan didn’t tell you, since we aren’t exactly sure yet…” He paused again, looking around conspicuously for a moment. “…We think that your family may be directly related to Samuel J. Luthridge.”

“…Huh?!” Nathaniel blurted, more than a little taken aback by the idea. “What in the world makes you think that? My last name isn’t even close to ‘Luthridge’.”

Uldine smiled at his student’s reaction. “It would be very unlikely for you to have kept the same name as him, actually. Yet even so, there are special circumstances surrounding this case…”


-Calendar Year 1432, May 26th-
Tuesday [14:34 GMT // 1:34 PM]
”Two days have passed since the object fell from the sky,” the nameless man wrote in the small journal that he had recently procured, his cursive handwriting scribbled as fast as his fingers would allow. ”Creatures have taken the city. It seems that they are everywhere at once, regardless of which direction I choose. I do not know from where they come, but they are like nothing I have seen. They wear my fear about them as armor that is impervious to me, and I cannot stir them from my mind. Without sleep or food, I have trekked through the ruins of the city, filled with both hope and fright, never knowing which will take me next. It is a strange thing… that I should find freedom in this abominable event, yet find new bonds in the terrors of my heart and mind…” He stopped writing to glance around the corner of the crumbling stone wall that he had been hiding behind. Heavy bags pulled at his eyes as they continuously scanned the area around him for any signs of wonder or woe. After a few moments of penetrating silence, he decided to write a few more lines before moving on. ”I have lost my aim. I fear that I am headed not towards salvation, but to the heart of this damnation that the sky has wrought. The beasts have forced me into this sloped terrain, at the bottom of which I imagine I will only find the source of my troubles. I am in dread when I imagine I might arrive in the center of this calamity, yet I cannot move past the monsters that bar my desired path. It seems they leave me with naught options but to head down this dieing hill…” The distant sound of falling rocks closed his journal.

He moved over the mounds of rubble with a skilled ease that he had suddenly acquired over the past two days. The moaning that he had heard two days ago had not stopped for even a moment since, yet the knowledge that the sound was from monsters and not wraiths did little to soothe his spirits.

Looking around at the desolated land, he found it quite disheartening that he could still not see much further than twenty or thirty paces ahead of him. This section of the city he remembered as being filled with sky bending towers, ever present in his memory as he gazed at the ashy sky.

The curious mist still clung to everything in sight, as did its foul stench. He had been breathing it for two full days now, and he felt as if it was finally starting to wear at him. A feeling in his chest suggested a sickness beyond his reckoning, yet no signs or symptoms of such ailment presented themselves. Sometimes, he might feel an approaching cough or lightness in his head, but it would always fade without being fully realized. It was a worrisome ordeal, but he knew of nothing that could be done about it. Only the wish to find a way out drove him. The frantic wish to see the face of another person, to feel a sense of security once again.

A large bird cried out above his head and he ducked behind a piece of toppled stone, trying to quell his trembling hands as he quickly jotted a few more notes. ”A flock of estranged sparrows have been following me for nigh a full day now. I know not what they want of me, but their pursuit is unsettling, as I am scarcely given a moment’s rest before I catch sign of them again. There is one in particular, far larger than the rest that seeks to find me from the sky. Its great wings and fierce beak strike fear into my heart, thus I have dubbed it the nickname: Fearow. I have done so in hopes that I might familiarize myself with this creature and justly calm my fright when I see it again…” He slapped it shut again and tucked it behind his dented breastplate to continue moving. And then he saw it.

The object that had fallen from the sky; the meteor stood only a short distance away, still sizzling with fiery sparks. He could even feel the heat emanating from the thing, an invisible wave drawing sweat from his tired brow. Echoing cries from his pursuer drove him closer to the heated rock, but when he turned to see where the bird was, he found it much closer than expected. Eyes locked on him as its prey, Fearow swooped low, talons gnashing at him ferociously as heavy gusts of wind pushed him back. Fortunately, the wind made him stumble over a large stone jutting out of the ground, letting the bird’s claws graze his dull breastplate.

He scrambled back to his feet, not even taking a moment to glance at the large scratches engraved into the metal on his chest as he bounded over fallen buildings towards the molten rock. He didn’t know what good the meteor would do him, but any other direction seemed certain death to him, anyway.

A glance over his shoulder told him that the terrorizing bird was wheeling around for another run at him, but the bigger surprise awaited his eyes as they turned back towards the fire ahead. A slender, red-orange shape lied in front of him, a thin, black line around the utmost tip. What look like eyes and nostrils filled an apparent face, and when it opened its mouth for the man to see a bright red flame billowing in its throat, he thrust his entire body out of the way.

Fire spewed forth, lighting the otherwise dark pit that he had tumbled into. If not for the shock of seeing this strange creature breathe fire, the man would have taken a sigh of relief, but instead he merely watched the blaze rocket into the sky, straight towards the oncoming bird.

Fearow twisted around at the last second, but not before its feathery wings grazed the fire, catching aflame while the flying monster spiraled through the air. Panicking at the flames taking its body, the enormous sparrow contorted around, trying to put it out with the wind.

From his tiny crevice, the man could only look on in awe. The fiery creature that had saved him stood there, defiant against the sky terror that had been chasing the man for what had seemed like an eternity. It was more or less a tortoise, he realized as he gazed at it in wonderment; the slim shape that he had seen before was its head and neck, protruding from a blackened shell. Smoke shot out of its small nostrils, as well as the small, crimson craters on its back, sending a deep piping noise reverberating throughout the area.

Is it… coming to my aid? the man thought, wary of becoming too optimistic.

Suddenly, the familiar squawks of the smaller sparrows that had been chasing him over land gathered in his ears. And there they were, standing in a line atop an upheaved boulder as their larger companion frantically swirled around in the air, casting off burning feathers as it whirled around feverishly.

The smoking creature only stood there, unabashed to the intrusion into its territory. Then, everything happened at once.

Dozens of sparrows leapt off the stone ledge, flapping their tiny wings to try and evade the streaming inferno exploding from the tortoise’s mouth. Several fell to the ground, rolling through tearing flames, but still more small birds pulled away, surrounding the tortoise to claw at it from above or behind. The steaming monster drew into its shell, to protect its head as they ganged up around it, clawing and pecking at its rocky exterior.

Sitting there, watching the scene unfold against his unlikely ally, a sudden surge of courage force the man’s sword out of its scabbard as he flung himself from the safety of his hole, slashing blindly at the crazed birds. He knocked a few to the ground, but there were still more to rise against him. Even through his wide swings, their grating cries and gnashing talons seemed endless.

In a moment’s glance, he caught sight of the tortoise’s shell, gathering a fierce, reddish glow. Instantly, he knew it a warning, and in the midst of those furious sparrows, he spun around and leapt back into the crevice he’d found earlier. And not a moment too soon.

A burning aura erupted from the creature’s entire body, throwing huge chunks of flame into the air, catching everything nearby within its searing grasp.

Last edited by Galleon; 05-13-2008 at 11:14 AM. Reason: Ah'm dumm...
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Old 01-01-2007, 06:45 AM
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Default Re: Origins

Through the flames, the nameless man could only bundle up and try to endure. Fire grazed the flesh on his hands and the side of his face, beating heatedly against the metal protection around the rest of his body as a scream belted out of his lungs. But he couldn’t even hear himself through the roaring flames, until they finally subsided, leaving his own cries to ring out into the distance.

One eye sealed shut against the pain, he tried to look out to see what had happened, ignoring the labor in his breaths. The small birds were vanquished, leaving only a wearied tortoise and Fearow with smoking wings. Lugging his body into a seated position, the man tried to steady his breath.

The huge bird struck first, knocking the steaming tortoise back with a diving slam against its shell. But the fire seemed to be dying in the other creature; its flaming belches were poorly aimed, hardly even threatening to Fearow. The tortoise was as he: tired and nearing defeat…

Then, a long forgotten sound took the wearied man’s good eye away from the battle at hand. People. Human voices shouted out towards him, soon followed by numerous armored figures. Relief washed over him, relaxing his exhausted muscles to the point where he might have fallen unconscious if not for the desire to make sure they saw him first.

Using his sword as a crutch, he pulled himself to his feet, standing against a wave of sweltering heat.

Fearow reared up on him, apparently unconcerned with the tortoise, trying to finally get a hold of him, but when a burning arrow pierced its wing, the creature tumbled back through the air, crying out against the sky as it receded behind a mound of rubble.

He dropped to a knee, unable to stand properly any longer. Two full days without sleep, a burnt face, and not to mention a meteor impact later… he finally saw a human person standing directly in front him.

“Sir! Sir, are you alright!?” yelled the welcomed voice of a sharply clad foot soldier.

He thought he coughed out a, “Yes.”

“What is your name, sir? What house do you belong to?”

He remained silent, partly pretending that he couldn’t answer. If… I tell them the truth… if I tell them I’m just a servant who took my lord’s armor… then the freedom I gained here will be lost to me… I... I'll be… He couldn’t finish the thought, unwilling to admit the punishment that he knew he would receive.

“That crest!” said another voice. “The crest on his armor! ‘Tis the family crest of House Luthridge! You are a young lord from House Luthridge, sir?”

He only nodded, incapable of pulling words from his mouth.

“Captain,” came yet another voice to which he could not put a face, “This tortoise monster here… It is weak. Should we not kill it here and now, captain?”

The beaten ‘lord’ from House Luthridge looked up to cry out to them, “No! Do not harm it! Please… please… take it… into your care…” All other light in his eyes faded into slumbering blackness as he collapsed against the crumbling stone, unsure of whether or not they would heed his words, unsure of whether or not he had even said them…

((OOC: Whew! Aiming for a Torkoal, in case you couldn't already guess. I’ll continue this story... eventually... maybe. I dunno, but 'til then. ))

Last edited by Galleon; 05-13-2008 at 11:20 AM. Reason: merp
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Old 01-03-2007, 11:32 PM
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Default Re: Origins

Story/Plot: Very interesting, I really like the way this story played out and the contrast between the then and the now. Perfect timing in switching from one to another btw. Quite original in my opinion.

Grammar/Spelling: I didn't notice anything looking over it, and spell check isn't revealing anything so great job there. Grammar wasn't an issue, comma and period placement was done well. The sentences were nicely formed and easy to read. Great writing.

Description/Detail: I loved this part of the story, you and DU have the best detail in you're stories. Absolutely wonderful, everything was described awesomely, I didn't have to wonder what anything looked like or the what the surrroundings were made of so that's nice.

Length: Not a problem.

Battle: Again this was interesting, as it wasn't a typical battle by any stretch. That said, I think you did well, attack were described nicely wasn't overboard or overdone, In fact the only thing I didn't like was it was a little short. I thought it was a great battle, just a little short.

Outcome: Torkoal... Captured! There really weren't any problems I personally had with the stories. All segments were strong and well done. Keep up the good work

Congrats on the Capture. ^^


URPG Stats Gone In Sixty Seconds
Legendary Traitor
[22:48] Zinata360: I got my avvie done
[22:49] Zinata360: May Norman, she'll eat your babies.
[22:49] TigerintheArk: Dude, that so fails. Doesn't fit at all.
[22:49] Zinata360: Fine, what should I make it say?
[22:49] Ultramr101: May Norman, she'll have your babies.
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