Alright, I looked at my teaser and it came out horribly so I'm sending it
again. Please send thoughts, C&C's, MST's (but only if they are funny), etc.
And if it doesn't work this time I am shooting my e-mail system.
Once again...
bri - chi
Emania - The Land of the Dead
bua - Basically it's just spell energy.
The King of Ducks
And now on with the show....
King of Ducks Publishers Proudly Present,
In association with Seven Drunken Albino Dwarves Ltd.,
Funding Provided by Nabiki Tendo Investment Firm (NTIF),
Blood Of Heroes
A Ranma 1/2 Fanfiction
Written By: The King of Ducks.
Chapter 1:
<Insert standard disclaimer here. For more information check out
"Disclaimer" by the Offspring on Ixnay on the Hombre.>
Time does not flow like a river like some would have you to believe, no,
instead it is a maelstrom moving only to the whims of Chance and Fortune.
Some say the past is unchangeable and even if you write history differently
than it happened that what really happened is unchanged and the truth will
come out once more. This is true if you only rewrite history in the literal
sense, but what if you were to go back and change it?
Time sweeps backwards and forth according the will of the dice of fate
and thus can someone from age find him self or herself thrown into another
age, either in the past or more strangely the future. Sometimes something
other than fate changes things; spirits have great power over the mortal
world though can rarely or will rarely use it. Sages differ greatly on this
subject, but it assumed that the more important the spirit was the greater
power the spirit has over the world of the living. Some can even be reborn
in it. Assuming that they wanted to, of course. But sometimes what even a
spirit wants doesn't matter...
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The old man whirled and danced around a burning fire within a forest
clearing. As he spun his chants seemed to stretch into the heavens
themselves and into the eternal blackness of the night sky. With each step
the forest around him grew darker and darker as the power stretched into
Emania. With each passing moment the echo of the spirits grew more and more
powerful until the old man stopped. Now the land beyond his fire was
indescribably dark and the icy presence of the spirits beyond set the wind
colder than it should have been on a summer night. The old man slowly sat
down and started chanting words of power to ward off evil spirits and to bind
the summoned spirits until he was finished or until dawn, whichever came
first. After a few moments he stopped and looked into the darkness.
"Hound of Culan step forth from the darkness that blinds you," the old
man cried into the night wind.
Within the passing of a few minutes a groaning could be heard as a
translucent figure stepped into the light. The figure stood, clad
resplendently in age-worn battle armor, and slowly he solidified. He stood
taller than the old man and his long black hair hung down past his shoulders.
Looking down he stared at the old man with eyes of ice that were filled with
anger.
"Shaman, why in the name of all the gods did you bring me here? Is it
time for my
rebirth," the Hound of Culan asked the shaman.
"That is up to you great warrior."
"What do you mean it is up too me?"
"That star which fell and slept when ere the earth was full formed is
soon to awaken and rise. Then shall it's light battle a darkness which is
soon freed from it's sleep. With the light may ride a host of the past and
with the darkness a similar host. Then shall the blood begin and the star
and the shadow truly fight. Three outcomes are possible and as in all things
three is the number of Fate, Fortune, and Chance. The first is that the
light rises and shines through the darkness and from him springs forth a new
generation of man whose bri and bua shall achieve great wonders. The second
is if the shadow smothers the star then all shall perish in it's night. The
final outcome should either one not come to pass, is that both star and
shadow being weakened shall sleep once more and gather their strength for
another battle on another day," the old man's eyes had the look of one
speaking to the fey as he related the message.
"The truth shaman and speak not in riddles."
"In no other way shall we speak Hound of Culan. In other way shall we
speak and in no other way shall we live."
"Which outcome will happen?"
"Chance, Fate, and Fortune have decided to leave this destiny in the
hands of man and the spirits of man. We are required to summon the spirits
of both sides; light and dark, to rebirth and arraign them in rebirth. Now
stand to the side as we summon the second upon this blackest night, Great
Bear appear."
A huge bear of a man loped forward from the tree-line, solidifying
instantly he stepped up to the fire. He stood in every way a contrast to the
other; the first was tall and the second not. The first's eyes were as cold
as ice and the second's burned with a fire. The first's bearing was that of
a soldier and the second's was that of a king. The Bear sat in front of the
shaman and stared lazily at him.
"Why have ye called my soul from Avalon? The fey mists were comfort
enough for me," the Great Bear plainly stated.
The faeries related the same tale to the Bear as they did to the Hound.
The Bear sat for a minute thinking before he asked the faeries, "And you wish
for me and my cousin to return to the world of life before our true time of
rebirth and fight this shadow?"
"Yes Great Bear, that is our wish. Chance, Fate, and Fortune require
that we ask."
"I don't like it," the Hound snorted with derision.
"Yes cousin, but you didn't like much of anything," the Bear replied
without looking from the shaman. "If we return, which outcome will happen?"
"That is blocked by mists even we cannot penetrate. Not even the three
know that
destiny. Son of the Lake, come forth from your watery sleep."
A third figure emerged and solidified upon the ground as soon as one
ghostly foot touched it. He strode forward without care and the fire danced
upon his fair features. He stood proud and confidant behind the Bear and
looked down upon the shaman with disgust.
"Thou foul and dirty peasant! Why have you awakened the Son of the Lake
from his deserved rest? Speak now or I shall smite thee," the Son of the
Lake's voice sounded as thunder.
Once again the message was told and the Son of the Lake beamed. His
smile grew as he pulled the sword which hung at his side from it's scabbard.
Holding it above his head he Son of the Lake shouted out in a thunderous
voice, "A quest in which I, the Son of the Lake, greatest warrior of the
Bear's court can truly shine. Surely I, the Son of the Lake, am this star of
which thou hast spoke."
The shaman lifted his head and stared into the Son of the Lake's eyes,
"No you are not the StarSworn who will rise and shine above the earth."
"Then I shall fight with him to ensure victory once more. The shadow
shall rightly fear my prowess as I..." the Son of the Lake was cut off by the
Hound's fist punching into the Son of the Lake's solar plexus. The Son of
the Lake fell over in a gasping heap.
"Fool," was the Hound's only reply. "I agree shaman, faeries, or
whatever you are. But I have one question before I return to my slumber."
"Which is, oh Hound of Culan," the faeries-speaking-through-the-shaman
asked.
"What of my descendants? Have the kept the way that Merlyn, the druids,
and I taught them?"
"Yes Hound of Culan, the next to be born will be the greatest master of
your way that this world has seen for over a thousand years."
"Then he must be the StarSworn of whom you spoke."
"We do not know that. Now Great Bear, the Hound and the Son of the Lake
have
agreed, do you?"
The Great Bear sighed, he didn't like to have to make decisions of this
magnitude without ample time to think. But then again, thinking wasn't his
strong point. "Alright shaman. You have a deal."
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