In the Age of Ancients, the world was unformed, shrouded by fog. A land of grey crags, archtrees, and everlasting dragons. But then there was Fire. And with Fire came Disparity. Heat and cold, life and death, and of course... Light and Dark. Then, from the Dark, They came, and found the Souls of Lords within the flame. Nito, the First of the Dead. The Witch of Izalith, and her daughters of Chaos. Gwyn, the Lord of Sunlight, and his faithful knights. And the furtive pygmy, so easily forgotten. With the Strength of Lords, they challenged the dragons. Gwyn's mighty bolts peeled apart their stone scales. The witches weaved great firestorms. Nito unleashed a miasma of death and disease. And Seath the Scaleless betrayed his own, and the dragons were no more. Thus began the Age of Fire. . . But soon, the flames will fade, and only Dark will remain. Even now, there are only embers, and man sees not light, but only endless nights.

[quote]A light blizzard danced amongst the frost-bitten trees, snow falling from a cloudless sky. It wrapped the valley in its cold embrace, pushing down on the hills and sharpening the blades of grass with a whetstone of ice. Like the cheap snow-globes they sold down in Comrade Ellem’s knick-knack shop, but on a scale which would make any god blink twice. And the Titan loomed over all. It was moments like these that made life - staring out at the infinite stretches of the valley which so promisingly faded into the fog, and taking it all in with eyes as round as the moons. Buried under the snow as the houses and other constructs of man were, you could almost forget there was any trace of civilisation in the frozen valley; a snapshot of the world from a million, billion years ago. All the worries were suspended in a fragile chalice of winter. Niall scooped up a handful of snow in a tattered glove, and saw a million diamonds trapped within as they snatched the light from the skies. Pure and white as an angel’s wings, the antithesis of the devil behind him; the one he’d given an invitation of smoke and fire. The snow in Niall’s hand melted away and the worries thawed; he turned back around and looked at the scarlet blemish in an otherwise blank pasture. The blood had stopped flowing at least, but there was still an awful lot of the scarlet snow to get rid of, and he only had the one sledge. [/quote] Opening of some overwritten piece of shit I wrote about a year back, got through 2 chapters and left it. Haven't done any creative writing since, shame really I used to love it. u mad i can out-write all u kunts?

Fantasy Genre! I haven't seen much from that in a long time! Then again, with so many other races out there, there's bound to be plenty! Although some of the other races are terribly un-imaginative.

[i] There was only one ship... [/i]

I started this a long time ago but never finished it. I can post the rest of what's here if you like. Might be some errors since I never finished it. But give it a go. [spoiler]Darwin walked down the crowded cobble street, passing through the crowds of bustling people, all on their daily routines of city life. He had come from a far of land, and as much as he wanted to explore this one while he was in it, he had urgent and pressing matters that tugged him away from exploration. Almost one month ago today, he had received a letter, inviting him to this strange land, and a very specific location. Normally he would have thrown the letter out, but the one thing that lured him in was the writing. When he first opened it, he found that the writing was written in some dialect unknown to him. It had taken him a month to translate it, searching for scribes and wordsmiths, all of which had failed to do so. But he had pressed on, and eventually found the secret. Much to his surprise, the letter had stated there was a time limit on how long this offer was extended, and so he rushed off to this land as soon as his bags were packed. This was the last day for which the offer was still in effect. He hurried along through the crowds, and then, at last, he arrived exactly where the letter had stated he should go. The Drunken King. A Tavern. It still confused him, but he needed to know who wrote the letter. That writing was special, and incredibly rare in this day and age. The tavern had a large, sloping roof that rested just a few feet off the ground, with large windows in the front, giving a great view of the warm, wooden interior inside. Currently, it was empty, save for one visible man inside. As he stepped up to the door, a feeling of fear and excitement washed over him. Who or what he would find inside he didn’t know. As he stepped in, the door clanged a bell, and he almost winced. His presence was known now. At the very back of the bar, sat a man, leaning back in his chair, smoking a long wooden pipe. His clothing was as strange as his own was in this land, and he could tell right away that the man was a foreigner. He approached slowly, coming over to the man’s table, and when the man spotted him, he was up on his feet instantly, with a huge smile painted on his face. “Aye so you’re de one who sent me dat infernal puzzle of a letter! Come in den my friend, have a seat! My name is Jovik by the way!” He extended a hand, but Darwin didn’t shake it, and stared at him with a look of confusion. The man called Jovik kept his smile, but it faded noticeably when he caught Darwin’s look of confusion. “Aye, what’s de matter friend? You’re are here because you sent the letter, no?” Darwin spoke, shaking his head slowly. “No, I am sorry friend, but I’m here for the one who sent the letter. I thought you were him. You even have foreign clothes on.” Jovik smiled again, letting out a big puff of smoke from his pipe, extending his hand yet again. “Aye bloody hell, dis one’s gonna be tricky, more dan one invitation! Let’s start over, I am Jovik, and you are?” Darwin shook his hand. “Darwin.” “Good to meet you Darwin! Come, sit down! Our host has not arrived yet, and maybe we could shed some light on deese infernal letters we both received!” Jovik returned to his chair, leaning back on it with one hand on his head, the other stroking his small blonde braided beard as he smoked from his pipe. Darwin took a seat nervously, relinquishing his bags to sit beside him. Jovik smoked his pipe thoughtfully for a bit, before springing to life, setting all four chair legs on the ground as he leaned in close to Darwin. “Aye, so tell me! Where do you hail from Darwin!? You too bear the clothing of a stranger in deese lands!” Darwin cleared his throat before speaking. “I hail from the northern reaches of the world, from a small town in The Crags. High up in the mountains, very cold up there.” Joviks smile grew larger than Darwin thought it could at this point. “Aye, you come from de north then? Up by de Wailing Mountains and Frosttide Sea? Never been up dere myself, too cold.” Darwin nodded. “That’s right. My town was further north of the Wailing Mountians, far from anybody or anything out there. And where are you from Jovik? I’ve been around, but I don’t know your style of clothing, and can’t place your accent.” Jovik laughed. “Aye, I come from another continent, all de way from a place called de Isle of Joordran. Little wee island off the coast of Baltmora. Came all de way from dere just for de letter.” “I’ve heard little of Baltmora. I know it’s warmer than were I come from, but that’s it. What’s it like?” Jovik smoked more of his pipe, before he put it out, and slipped it into the pocket of his green vest. “Aye, she is a great place, Baltmora. No huge mountains and forests like we have in dis land or yours, but wide, long plains on hills of stone and earth, with much rainfall.” Darwin nodded silently. “Sounds like something I should see sometime. Actually, as a matter of fact, if this whole thing with our letters blows over, can I hitch a ride with you?” Jovik laughed again. “Aye, it would be my pleasure Darwin! I take it you are a man of de journey?” “You could say that. I like to see the world and it’s creatures. It’s people, and most of all, it’s magic.” Jovik smiled again. “Aye, you are a mage!? What sort of mage are you?” “I’m nothing real special, just an Elemental. I take it you know something about magic then as well?” “Aye, I do brother. I am proud to say that I am a man of Chaos!” “A Chaos Mage?” Jovik winked. “Aye, dats de one.” Darwin had seen all types of magic in his travels, and many different people belonging to their respective schools. He slapped himself mentally, why hadn’t he seen it sooner? The upbeat quirky attitude, the cheerfulness. Jovik belonged to a school of mages commonly frowned upon by others, considered an outsider, or not a true mage to most. But Darwin knew the stigmas that came with being a Chaos mage. Chaos Mages actually had no command of powers over Chaos, but rather, were given the name because of how unpredictable their magic could be, and what happened when one entered a battlefield. Chaos Mages have their power because they know magic from almost every school known to man, and dabble in everything, a jack of all trades, master of none. With such knowledge on each school, they could combine spells in ways none of the others could, creating their own form of quirky, odd magic. Which was why the man was so upbeat. One rule that stayed relatively true to magic, is that most wielders of it adopted a certain character to go along with their respective school. It often helped to learn magic, by developing characteristics of what they were learning. In Jovik’s case, the man was as quirky as the spells he could likely cast. As for himself, he was stoic and calm, but when enraged or angry, he could be compared to that of a raging storm. Jovik, in his eyes, was suddenly somebody to be respected. The amount of knowledge required to be considered even an apprentice Chaos Mage was immense, an understanding of all the magical arts being necessary. But Darwin didn’t upright tell the man his respect for him. His years of competing with his rivals had taught him that. But, he had also learned, that just like the elements, they should be paid respect. Instead, he changed the subject. “So, how did you get your letter Jovik?” Jovik took out a folded piece of paper from one of his many pockets on his dark green vest. He unfolded it and flipped it over, showing it to Darwin. “Aye, dis little bastard was delivered to me by a courier, but he never said who from. I was curious as soon as I opened it, and tried dechiphering it, but failed in my searches. Den one day, I had an idea. I traced de residual energy on it, and found that it came from another mage, but not just any mage.” He folded it back up and put it in his pocket. “Does de word, “Voidwalker” mean anything to you my friend?” Darwin almost fell over in his chair. “Yes, it does! In fact, I translated the writing in my letter, and found that it was old Voidwalker dialect!” Jovik laughed heartily. “Aye, and you say you’re and Elemental? I don’t know any Elementals who ever knew how to translate old dialect!” Darwin shrugged. “In my travels it became a skill that I needed.” Jovik was about to say something when another voice cut through the otherwise empty tavern, booming through it’s walls. “And it was a skill that served you well, I see.” The two turned to face the source of the booming voice, a cloaked man, standing not far from their table. Jovik bolted up his chair, taking the initiative. “Aye, you’re the bastard who sent me this confounding letter aren’t ya?” The cloaked man chuckled. “I indeed am.” Darwin remained in his chair, and spoke calmly. “Your letter, an invitation, along with promises of riches and power for those who came, why was it written in Voidwalker Dialect?” The cloaked man shifted on his feet. “The letter, was written in a dead language, long forgotten, because it was a test for those who wished to pursue it. And, evidently, you two, are the only ones who have passed the test.” Jovik spoke again. “Aye, you mean you sent more of dose letters?” They could see the nodding of the man’s head even with his hood covering him. “Indeed I did, to the brightest, most gifted of any and all mages.” Darwin interjected. “Now hang on a second, I’m not gifted in anything special, and if anything, Elementals are one of the simplest mages out there.” The man chuckled. “Every single form of magic has it’s place, you of all people should now that, Darwin. And you, are a master in your field. I know of no other who can rival your abilities.”[/spoiler]

An ancient evil returns...

In primordial Space, timeless creatures made waves. These waves made us and the others. Waves were battles, and the battles were waves.

I awaited the sangheili captain in his quarters as instructed. He arrived shortly and sealed the door, walked over and pinned me against the wall, slapping two levitating cuff links on my wrists. They forced my arms up into the air. He locked another pair around my ankles, forcing them to spread apart. "Tonight we will have a great journey of our own." He said, flashing an energy blade to life. In a few swift flashes, he had cut off all my clothes without touching the skin. His mandibles pulled into a grin and he unbuckled his armor, piece by piece clanked against the flood. As more and mor of his body was revealed, I couldn't help but marvel at his flawless muscles, carved beautifully under his scales.

It was a dark and stormy night...

Not the kind of fantasy I expected.