|
Free Porn - Sex Stories - Porn Videos |
06-07-2012, 06:47 PM
|
#101 | |
|
Guardian of the Snow
Join Date: Jan 2008
Posts: 3,588
|
Quote:
|
|
|
|
|
06-08-2012, 03:42 AM
|
#102 |
|
Guardian of the Snow
Join Date: Jan 2008
Posts: 3,588
|
Beginning of the gambits end.
In the depths of his fortress manor Master Gordon listens with ever growing horror as story after story from his agents tell of a dangerous tapestry being woven. Someone is trying to kill him, or take down the Grandfather and pin the blame on him personally; thus eliminating some of their deadliest of rivals in the process…but who could it be.
A few days ago his precious roses were returned, after his butler had traded them to the maiden Clairice in trade for sexual favors. Soon enough the butler was captured and tortured into confession and then summarily executed by skin stealing. As for the girl, and that madman Darius, they soon vanished, presumably killed by the agents of Grandfather or of Master Gerald; the shop having been left in such a state of disarray showed they fled the city that very night. Or it was staged that way to cover up their executions... The next morning brought more trouble...the mysterious deliveries to agents and assassins of the guild; flowers from the shop of Clairice, supposedly over his signature, though he was proven to be here in his manor (the only reason Grandfather did not summarily execute him; for the moment at least). Even the stolen roses had been returned intact, and watered by the girl; then as some of his agents examined and smelled them, declaring nothing to be wrong… This could not be said of the rest of those deliveries. For some reason, like with Master Finneous, and his lover Kimberly, and at the ale-house operations, the receivers just seemed to up and die in their tracks! Now there are other Masters of the guild, underlings who would not dare to strike at Gerald; who are openly making plans to do just that, and it appears Grandfather is encouraging them due to his silence on the matter... His silence and encouragement is probably due to one of the bouquets of flowers having been sent to his throne room as well. The man has no sense of humor; especially as there are rumors of him offering one hundred bars of gold to anyone taking down the Grandfather of Assassins; as if he would actually be suicidal enough to make such a move!!! Such is his mounting rage and frustration that when he grips the railing of an upper floor balcony he tears the wood free in two large chunks of debris. So far no one has been able to find out much of anything, save that the agents of Master Gerald are following his own…with more and more open boldness…probably to strike in one well coordinated action; collapsing his entire network and assault his estate… Yes that makes sense…Gerald, his one remaining associate… There is one way to deal with that traitor… Quickly he calls for his senior agents and guard leaders. Once gathered he explains what needs to be done and to be on the double quick for it; there is a small window of time open, and he intends to exploit it to the fullest. Right now only one thing could interfere with his plans, and that is the Grandfather of Assassins himself… “Grandfather of Assassins Gordon…” he examines his knife blade, loving the way the light plays over its razor sharp edges. How fine of a blade he will use to end the life of both Gerald and Grandfather – then claim all for himself. “Yes, that is what will happen then, both shall fall in the end…” ====== Within the hour an agent of Grandfather reports directly to him of the plan that Master Gordon has laid down. Upon hearing that a coup is indeed coming, and by the hand of Gordon the Grandfather’s rage is absolute. He calls for his personal guard to assemble, for the best fighters, rogues and assassins to gather and arm for battle. For too long he has allowed this game to go on, now all shall see the wrath of the guild and of Grandfather once and for all. Quickly he goes over the series of plans and contingencies he long ago prepared for such an event; one after another are rejected, until the best overall remains…complete extermination… When the group has assembled two hours later he explains the plan and gives one final order… “When Gordon strikes at the estate of Gerald, we surround the place, move inside and slaughter everything. I mean that emphatically, there are to be no survivors at all. Slay every living being or animal in the place; then reduce it to ashes afterward. Then the same will happen to Gordon’s estate; these traitors will be rooted out completely…” Building up the frenzy of his forces, Grandfather intends to use this execution to the townsfolk of Providence as well – to remind them HE rules the town. Once that is done, he will purge the guild of any and all threats from top to bottom. ====== “My lady,” her Associate softly calls, touching her soft shoulder. He also moves slightly to the side, keenly aware of the envenomed blade she keeps handy when sleeping. Seeing her still drowsy eyes open, he sighs softly, making sure the iron plate over his manhood is still in place…the last few times she had ever struck out from being awakened too fast... was too close by far... Some habits, thankfully, are ingrained deep enough to be easily forgotten, even with the night of intimacy they have shared between them... It may be the one edge they still have for what is ahead. “My lady,” he again calls to her, “the forces of Gordon are gathered and on the move; they will hit the estate of Gerald within the next two hours. One of our agents also reports that the Grandfather is personally leading most of the guilds strength against BOTH of them. I believe he means to end this matter of the two once and for all.” He sees the excitement growing on her face. “Even with the Grandfather of Assassins entering the fray now, do we stay on the plan or change it?” he asked. Considering the situation, and then asking some questions, she comes to a decision; swiftly she conveys it with her sign language. Yes the plan does change; among the many contingencies they have, such an opening as this means the end game is at hand; faster than either had dared to anticipate. Many of her agents have long since given up hope of Providence being freed from the iron grip of the guild; but now, shown the truth of the matter, that the guild IS VULNERABLE, they are ready to strike back and do so with absolute lethality. Their fear and despair has become anger and uttermost determination; tonight she and Associate make the most important strikes; they will do the rest…tonight Providence has a new cry of “Freedom or death.” For the members of the guild, it shall hold a simpler set of messages, all ending in doom for each of them. Associate grins a most fiendish smile, his years long quest to avenge his sister, her husband and all their children will be completed; he will avenge them and they may finally find rest. It will be by his hands and no others, the final target of his wrath shall perish…the Grandfather himself. “My lady,” her Associate says, “good fortune on your part; I have to move quickly to get at my own target. I have dispatched word to the leaders of the waiting groups for the uprising to begin.” “Today the Guilds ruling of Providence comes to an end,” he says, "and my pets shall feast extremely well this eve." Once again she smiles as that lesson of Shan Tiel came to her – in staging rumors of a pending coup, the natural paranoia of the assassins have led one to stage a real coup. So once again the assassin’s guild is dancing to her tune and not their own. Now comes the time for the dance, and with it the hunt, to end. |
|
|
|
|
06-09-2012, 06:58 AM
|
#103 |
|
Guardian of the Snow
Join Date: Jan 2008
Posts: 3,588
|
Bounce.
|
|
|
|
|
06-09-2012, 10:54 AM
|
#104 |
|
Forum Porn Laureate
Join Date: Mar 2010
Location: Southwest Michigan FILTH AS LITERATURE Recommended XNXX Writer Multiple CAW Winner
Posts: 4,274
|
I am still avidly following this masterful story and anxiously awaiting the outcome. It looks like the silent girl and her associate are about to make an impact.
__________________
"My aim is to put down on paper what I see and what I feel in the best and simplest way." . . . . . NEEDLESSLY VERIFIED: Pictures of my cock Writing Wrongs But Whom?
|
|
|
|
|
06-10-2012, 02:41 AM
|
#105 |
|
Porno Junky
Join Date: Jul 2011
Location: A Secret~
Posts: 286
|
It sounds like everything is slowly closing in on the Grandfather, Gerald and Gordon. However, the associate and our amazing wise assassin seem to have things going right on schedule for them. However, the mystery of exactly what the pets of the associate are have no been revealed. I'm still waiting on that answer snow.
__________________
Currently working on my newest story; Blinded Love. Here's a link: http://forum.xnxx.com/showthread.php?t=274552 |
|
|
|
|
06-10-2012, 05:13 AM
|
#106 |
|
Guardian of the Snow
Join Date: Jan 2008
Posts: 3,588
|
ELP - the two are about to bring some major changes to Providence; but the part of a major impact, was not blowing Master Cinnius to kingdom come a kind of 'major impact' already?
TCO - patience; the 'pets' of associate will be revealed soon enough; hopefully the suprise revelation of them will have been worth the wait. Anyhow, the gambit continues... |
|
|
|
|
06-10-2012, 05:37 AM
|
#107 |
|
Guardian of the Snow
Join Date: Jan 2008
Posts: 3,588
|
Thus falls the Third King of Four...
Master Gerald’s manor, a fortress from top floor to the dungeons below, bristles with activity. His best soldiers and agents prepare the defenses, layer upon layer of insidious traps and secured passages; the outer yards with their fields of fire shall be turned into one massive killing field for Gordon’s forces when they arrive…
“Continue with all the preparations, I need to see to the final line of defense upstairs; remember to keep all of the designated reserves in place. I do not expect the great doors or walls to be breached; yet we take no chances at all…Gordon has shown himself too cunning and skilled in preparation in his elimination of Finneous, Cinnius, and so many others,” Master Gerald said to his chief-of-arms. “Remember, he sacrificed his own men initially at the inn-operations to set up Cinnius and me as well; we must not underestimate him at all,” the first true traces of fear creped into his voice. For one time in his life Gerald feels the cold hands of death reaching out for him…watching his every move from nearby… ====== Indeed a pair of eyes watched Master Gerald’s every move from the rafters above the great hall; then as he ascends the great stairs. She silently shifts from one location to another, descending down to the main floor. Once there, she commences the dance of death with his agents and guards, one by one their labors cease to be productive… This is due to the fact that most of them are no longer capable of breathing, as a slashed throat, sword wound through the heart or the poison coating a throwing star that enters into ones system does complicate doing any labor just a bit... Especially when death finally claps his hands and reaps the harvest of souls into the next world. When she has finished, she sees her reflection in a mirror, the amethyst fires of her eyes glowing like a beacon of doom; telling of her inner rage and determination to finish the matter. She recalls with absolute clarity the final screams of her mother and father; of her brothers and sisters as they were butchered, while she was taken to safety by Shan Tiel…her teacher and caretaker. Looking up the great staircase; she knows the one whose name was screamed by her father, just as death came for him…that of the manors master... Master Gerald, assassin of the Guild, and the third of four kings she means to deal with; tonight he will die by her own hand... ====== During his wandering around the upper floor he cannot shake the feeling of death being nearby; one of two companions always with the assassin – the other being fear, in all of its numerous faces – refuses to leave his side. No, companion death refuses to leave, almost as if he longs for the show to continue just a bit more before needing to escort Gerald into the next world. All too soon his attention came back to the lower floors, silent as an open grave; a foreboding of what was soon to be his own fate…almost as if he is walking in a dream he heads back to the upper floor landing, expecting to find all of his guards and agents fleeing or already fled. Either that or they have already been turned by Gordon, to join his side in the coming fight that will leave Master Gerald alone to face many a hundred warrior in a last, hopeless battle before he perishes either at the end of a poisoned blade or skewed upon a crossbow bolt to his heart… Sighing at the great, final treachery his agents have performed, he turns the last corner, his crossbow held loosely in his hand, prepared to meet the enemy who has to be there in unlimited numbers. Master Gordon has won the fight, somehow outfoxing Finneous, Cinnius and himself one after the next, and now with his death will turn upon Grandfather to become the new leader of the guild. Thus he has made only the second mistake in his life…he underestimated his friendship with Gordon; and will pay the price. The first he ever made was ten years ago when the girl escaped the fate of her family, and the four covered it up to stay alive… Master Gerald gave out a loud sigh; his second mistake indeed is the greatest, to assume friendship existed with such a viper as Gordon. He has used all of us for years to set the stage for the overthrow of Grandfather, and now he comes for me... Maybe, back when he made the first mistake with the girl who had escaped, death would have been better. He then would have never known this depth of trechary, betrayal and weakness - now he does not care. He has been betrayed and defeated morally, intellectually, and physically, by an advesary so out of his league, Gordon knows now he never had a chance against... Around the last corner he just let’s the crossbow fall from his unresponsive hands; expecting death to come by blade or crossbow bolt…only to see a lone figure, a slender and young women standing at the other end, just feet from him. Clad in black and gray clothing, a single mask is drawn up over her mouth and nose, while more cloth is over her forehead and hair, leaving only her eyes exposed. He watches her drawn blade, twenty two inches of glittering, razor sharp steel come up in her hand; a blade he knows all too well, for on its handle is the symbol of the old man - Shan Tiel. Shan Tiel! He was the father of the bankers wife...and thus grandfather of the girl who escaped... "Oh no," Gerald said to no one in the area, consined to his death, understanding at last who the true mistress of the gambit being played is... The one before him here and now... She moves the blade into a cross guard position, her gloved hands holding it in a grip like iron, to strike or parry as needed, the blood on its edge glistening like red fires, telling Gerald of his agents fate on the floor below… She began to advance upon him, economy of motion displayed to perfection with each movement; a true avatar of death made reality advancing to collect her due upon Gerald... Her eyes glitter in the light of the wall lamps as she passes by; the clear fires of amethyst dancing in their depths. “The girl…ten years and you survived…how…how…how…” His nerves shattered, he falls to his knees, whimpering and completely in the grips of uttermost terror; he knows there is no more running or hiding, no mercy can be expected at her hands... Though he tries... "Please...please...don't kill me; I'll do whatever you want, I did nothing to you...why...why all the deaths..." She shakes her head at this display of cowardess in the end; the streams of tears flowing without restraint from his eyes, the smell of urine and loosened bowls corrupting the air as he loses control of his mind and body... Having closed the distance between them, the blade in her hands eases back high over her shoulder, ready to deliver the third part of her vengeance in one clean strike. “Justice is delivered then…Gordon never betrayed us, it was you all the time...” Gerald says to her. She just nodded, as the reflected light glimmered on the blade; as it delivered vengence upon the Third King. So it is that the Third King of Four surrenders to the inevitable, his role in the gambit done. Standing over his corpse, the Queen with the amethyst eyes cleans her blade on his shirt; then heads off into the manor to prepare for the last King of Four to arrive…and for the gambit to come to an end.
__________________
To Dream of Dragons: Saga of Snow Cat Winter War: legend of the snow fox Sharks of Steel Last edited by snowleopard3200; 06-10-2012 at 05:46 AM. |
|
|
|
|
06-10-2012, 10:24 AM
|
#108 |
|
Guardian of the Snow
Join Date: Jan 2008
Posts: 3,588
|
Associate has his revenge...and his pets are revealed...
The Grandfather of Assassins, out at the head of his armed band is not happy today; the ongoing fight against Gordon’s forces has been taking far too long. His plan had been simple and easy, encircle the entire area of Gerald’s estate as Gordon’s forces mounted their assault, and then work their way in, burning the buildings and killing all – citizens or enemies who were found.
Systematically his forces pushed Gordon’s back step by step, always pushing, seeking to find a weak spot and make the final strike. Complete annihilation would result. Then came the news from messenger’s that the citizens of the city have started an armed uprising, armed with spears, blades and even tools in some cases; supplemented by the bands of hunters who work in the woods around Providence. So he found himself fighting two fronts, Gordon to the fore, the mobs to the back; so his forces have been systematically whittled down. Even his own bodyguard has been reduced from forty to the dozen surrounding him. Many bear wounds from the last clash, nearly a hundred members of the mob will not be going home tonight; his grimace became a grin at that thought. When a cloud of smoke momentarily drifts over his band, a quartet of soft thuds sound out; his guard is now down to eight. The four on the ground in the death throws, the shuriken’s embedded in throats delivering their poison for best effect. “Shield wall!” Grandfather shouts out, the guards forming a crescent wall of wood and muscle between him and their attacker; two more of his guards collapse, throwing stars embedded in their throats, the envenomed tips sending them into violent, wracking spasms as death reaches forth with his hands to claim them. Holding his twin blades at the ready he directs the guards back down the street, towards a four way intersection. As they reach the smoldering remains of a shop one more guard falls, clutching his torn throat. One guard advances down the street, a forward scout for the remainder of their ever diminishing band. He peers to each surrounding store front, street and alley opening, to the windows high and low, seeking the least bit of movement to indicate the next strikes of their unseen pursuer… He failed to look from behind as a small snake is placed on his shoulder by a gloved hand… The deadly bite of the Tai-Pan racks him with indescribable pain and torment as his body explodes cell by cell, the nerves last of all to perish as death welcomes him to join his fallen comrades of earlier this day. Grandfather and the others watch with growing horror at the ease with which they are being toyed with… Until the lone figure steps out of the shadows and over the fallen guard; blades at the ready, he advances with the coolness of death personified… The five remaining guards, with Grandfathers gesture of a hand, charge at this foe; no fear shows on their faces, as they are the elite of the elite for many a kingdom. No one in the Western lands can stand against one of them, let alone all five. In the swirling, twirling, flashing dance of death that flows as their foe jumps high and into their midst, they learn that he is no warrior of the West; but a deadly assassin of the Far East, the Ninja, who sends them unto their just reward in the afterlife. Before Grandfather could even take a breath, the man is before him; a long, slender blade, honed to absolute razor sharpness is upon his neck. He feels the veins pulsating against the keen edge, and the slightest trickle of blood flowing down from where it pierced his skin… Grandfathers breath came is gasps, as he dared not move an inch; for this unbelievable warrior has him at his mercy, and to judge from the cold eyes looking back into his own, Grandfather knows mercy is not on the agenda for the day. Sweat beads and then flows down the face and neck of Grandfather, as the warrior stares at him without end, as if daring him to flinch and give him cause to execute him immediately. For that is what Grandfather knows is about to happen, no trial, no jury or such nonsense, just an execution without compassion or mercy. He feels the knifes edge play ever so gently upon his skin, fires burning from the sweet kiss of deadly steel that teases panic and ever present flinching of muscles; all too familiar with such blades, Grandfather can imagine what the final cut on him will feel like… Grandfather feels the burning pass into the rest of his body, hands shaking and churning in his gut induced by the final fears racing in his mind. His knees threaten to give out beneath him, no matter how hard he wills it to be otherwise, for he refuses to coward himself before this unknown foe… How Master Gordon ever snuck such a warrior into Providence, passed all of his agents and spies Grandfather cannot understand…unless, after all, it was Master Gerald who did it…who may have been the true mastermind of this entire coup… “Hello Grandfather,” the strange man greeted him at last, “I know you are more than wondering who I am, and why this is happening. For the record, and what it will be of worth to you, the four masters – Finneous, Cinnius, Gerald and Gordon had nothing to do with a coup or this uprising…” Grandfathers eyes widened in disbelief as the information flooded into his fear sodden mind. “That’s right Grandfather,” the man nodded in conformation, “I and my lady have systematically destroyed you and your guild. Ten years ago you killed my sister, her husband, and their children; one of whom my own father whose family name I shall reclaim as my own, said has exceptional talents…until you sanctioned the hit for the sake of the towns, and hence your own, bankers.” The absolute calm and steady manner of his voice brought more fear to Grandfather than he has known in his entire career as an assassin… “Yes I can see in your eyes the fact you know of whom I speak. I have waited for this time for so long now.” “Oh by the way,” he casually continues, “as you probably have figured my blade is poisoned; you will not die from the venom now coursing in your veins, yet the execution I have in store, you will get to enjoy each and every sensation of pain that comes from my pets, until you die of course.” Pulling the blade away, the mysterious warrior delivers a blindingly quick series of precise strikes, inducing absolute loss of muscle control in Grandfathers legs and arms; just to make sure he is not getting away if the weakness inducing poison fails in its task. “Oh by the way,” he says to the shaking assassin, casually holding the man up by his neck with one hand. “This is for my lady who was raped by Master Gordon’s butler; I would have killed him myself if the plan did not demand he live for a time. So this is nothing personal…I do it for her…well, okay, as I have grown very fond of her, it is personal…still…” WHACK! He watches as the Grandfather’s eyes cross over, his mouth contorted as much as his poison wracked body will permit in purest of pain; a victim of the move all men dread to imagine…the nutcracker…delivered with a kneecap to the most private and injury prone area any man has… ====== Associate looks down on the groaning, croaking, mewling form of Grandfather, and has no pity on the most powerful member of the Guild. For too long he has waited this outcome; prepared to sacrifice all if need be just to avenge his sister, and restore the honor of his family and restore his name. Ten years since he swore his name shall be unheard and unspoken until the vow of vengeance is completed. As it shall be this very hour. Pulling from a pouch a slender, black silken rope, he quickly binds Grandfathers hands and feet, ties a gag about his mouth, and then casually grabs hold of the loop he makes to drag the assassin along. Heading for the place where his pets wait, he makes sure to cross each area of dirty water, sewage, bared rocks and cactus, determined to make sure the cause of ten years of torment and dishonor enjoys every moment of pain he has left in his soon to end life. Several of the forest hunters, and their sons and daughters, master archers each who snipe at the remaining forces of the guild watch the two pass; each one knows that Associate is about to fulfill his own hunt at long last. The one man who helped Associate with the patrol of Jambis not long ago smiled; even knowing of Associates particular ‘pets’, as he helped capture them in the woods, he has no sympathy for the now helpless assassin that is to meet his pain filled fate… “Die slowly Grandfather,” he shouts and then moves on, determined to kill as many guild assassins this day as he can. Once he reaches the warehouse, Associate opens the door wide, no longer caring nor needing to be secretive as to the contents. He drags Grandfather across stones worn smooth by centuries of cargo moved in and out of the massive interior; then up one flight of wooden steps, each one marked by the steady thud-thud-thud of the Grandfathers head slamming into its surface. A steady moan slips from Grandfathers lips as the top of the loft is reached, and Associate can easy imagine the stars he is seeing at this time. He drops the rope from his hand, and advances to the edge where an opening is set between the rails of the lofts edge. He gazes down upon the ‘pets’ he has prepared for this moment; and calls loud and long to them, whipping them into a howling, snorting, tusk-rending blood lust as they know their favored meal is about to be sent down to them – human flesh and blood and bone, raw… Time and time again Associate calls out to them, and they respond with a dozen and eight cries of hunger and longing, a pleading and demanding for Associate to send them their promised dinner. Each one of them, some four hundred pounds of absolute bone and muscle, tusks huge and gleaming with razor sharp tips, eyes blood red and great chests heaving like the bellows of a fiery forge, they paw at the stone floor…. They wait…they call…they plead for warm blood and sweet flesh… When Associate turns back for a moment, the pets howls and snorts grow ever louder, as they know now that dinner is at hand; they smell the man fear of the assassin, hear his panicked heart beating beyond all ability to sustain for long, and the final moans of pain as he is lifted from the loft floor… Associate lifts Grandfather up by the neck, savoring the howl induced panic in the fallen assassin; Grandfathers eyes are absolute in their wideness, as he is pushed by the sounds of the pets howls and snorts to the edge of his own sanity, his mind refusing to accept what he knows logically is down there…waiting for him to go over the edge… Associate holds Grandfather by the arms, forcing the unsteady assassin to bend down enough to see his fate at the edge of the loft. “Look well Grandfather, I gathered a great collection of special pets just for you; I learned long ago how you were nearly killed on a forest hunt by a wild boar and have been afraid of them for your life. How ironic is it not; here at the end, you literally get to go hog wild, or I should say…go to the wild hogs…” “NOOOO!” Grandfather roars as Associate shove him bodily into the empty air ahead of them; his scream is heard for blocks until it ends abruptly on the cold stones below. Without hesitation, Associates pets, twenty of the most savage, massive, wild boars the woodland hunters could gather tear into the assassin… Associate watches from above, savoring each sound and scream, until the last bone and scrap of flesh is gone into the guts of his pets. “I am once again Shan Fae, son of Shan Tiel my late father. Now my task is complete.” He only hoped his companion; she with the amethyst eyes was having as much success. |
|
|
|
|
06-10-2012, 07:38 PM
|
#109 |
|
Porno Junky
Join Date: Jul 2011
Location: A Secret~
Posts: 286
|
And so, Gerald and Grandfather have fallen.
However, this brings up another issue. It seems our assassin and her associate are related! Which is definitely interesting, since it seems he is aware of such things and she is not? Will he tell her Snow? Even after that night of deep passion? I should have known! Boars! Of course, it was right in front of my face, especially when he roused them all up constantly. They do tend to make quite the noise when they are riled up. You have me all giddy in excitement to see the final act of vengeance Snow, and what our two major players plan to do afterward. Now, off to your other thread to comment.
__________________
Currently working on my newest story; Blinded Love. Here's a link: http://forum.xnxx.com/showthread.php?t=274552 |
|
|
|
|
06-11-2012, 04:57 AM
|
#110 |
|
Forum Porn Laureate
Join Date: Mar 2010
Location: Southwest Michigan FILTH AS LITERATURE Recommended XNXX Writer Multiple CAW Winner
Posts: 4,274
|
The girl and her associate have been a remarkable wrecking crew, wreaking havoc on the Guild of Assassins. Continues to be a fantastic story.
__________________
"My aim is to put down on paper what I see and what I feel in the best and simplest way." . . . . . NEEDLESSLY VERIFIED: Pictures of my cock Writing Wrongs But Whom?
|
|
|
|
|
06-11-2012, 06:25 AM
|
#111 | ||
|
Guardian of the Snow
Join Date: Jan 2008
Posts: 3,588
|
Quote:
The idea came from the Silence of the Lambs movie series (the second I believe). And as they say, the stage is now set for the final King to enter the scene of battle; and then we will find out who shall live and who shall fall in the end... Quote:
I have to admit, as this story developed, I got to have way too much fun at times. Though the part of Grandfather going to the boars took me a long time to get just right. At the least, Grandfather went "Hog Wild" in a manner of speaking... 
|
||
|
|
|
|
06-11-2012, 09:27 AM
|
#112 |
|
Porn Star
Join Date: May 2012
Location: Aneheim, CA
Posts: 1,728
|
Thank you for such an amazing tale.
I have to confess, however, that I saw the identity of the "pets" as soon as you mentioned tusks. The pig: the only animal which is an omnivore and devours not only meat but also bones (the best body disposal unit that can be imagined). The wild boar: the deadliest of hunts. The feral hog: more deadly to the hunter than the fabled Razorback due to their lack of a fear of man. No rhino can be as unflinching, no water buffalo as enduring, and no lion as blood-thirsty as the feral hog. |
|
|
|
|
06-11-2012, 04:29 PM
|
#113 | |
|
Guardian of the Snow
Join Date: Jan 2008
Posts: 3,588
|
Quote:
Nothing else tastes so good after basted in sauce and butter and cooked in a fire pit as they do in Hawaii.
|
|
|
|
|
|
06-12-2012, 02:54 AM
|
#114 |
|
Guardian of the Snow
Join Date: Jan 2008
Posts: 3,588
|
The board is set for the last King
Outside the gates of Master Gerald’s estate Master Gordon and his band of men stand ready for the final fight in their little war. Three entire city blocks lay in smoking, smoldering ruins from the all too stubborn efforts of his foes men to keep their line from being breached. All too many of the shops and homes Gerald had owned were miniature forts in their own right, costing him more men, and most critical – time, than desired.
Yet he has won after all… Now he stands on the eve of his vengeance; Gerald waits just beyond the meticulously maintained grounds, the great doors of the manor lay open, silent and still. Gerald must be so afraid of his impending doom that he has either already fled, or some servants have betrayed him on the slim hope of mercy being shown to them. No mercy, that is the order given to his current band of troops; he wishes there were more of them at hand yet he had to leave too many of them to fend off the tightening ring of Grandfathers forces. He will finish off the one here first, then take his men back and finish off Grandfather, and then the purge of the city and the guild of all traitors will truly commence. If he has to rule over a land of the dead, so be it, he will rule in the end. With a nod of his head several men commence to skulk from cover to cover, crossbows at the ready, swiftly but steadily closing on the open doors. They cover one another, alert for the least notice of the expected ambush to commence. His scouts reach the manor doorway with no problems, and then signal they are entering. The great doors silently close behind them… One minute passes… Five minutes pass… Ten minutes… Twenty minutes… Thirty minutes… Then one manor door swings open silently, the shadows beyond beckoning with all the kindness of a silent and open grave in the woods. Nothing moves from within or without… |
|
|
|
|
06-12-2012, 12:22 PM
|
#115 |
|
Porno Junky
Join Date: Jan 2011
Location: South of England
Posts: 325
|
Well, I finally caught up and it just seems to go from strength to strength. Now I see there’s a new chapter posted, so I’ll read that tonight. You obviously love writing it as much as we love reading it and your enthusiasm shines through. Hope there’s lots more to come.
|
|
|
|
|
06-12-2012, 07:11 PM
|
#116 | |
|
Guardian of the Snow
Join Date: Jan 2008
Posts: 3,588
|
Quote:
|
|
|
|
|
|
06-13-2012, 07:07 PM
|
#117 |
|
Guardian of the Snow
Join Date: Jan 2008
Posts: 3,588
|
The end game accelerates...
The sudden collapse of a nearby building in a cascade of brick, wood and flames combine with a sudden cacophony of blade on blade clashes, shouts of victory and screams of the dying. Gordon’s men begin to look one to another, debating as what to do at this time to ensure their survival.
Shrill cries of war sound off, combined with calls of “Providence and Vengeance!” One of his chief lieutenants shouts in the smoke for his men to hold the line, his calm, steady voice suddenly cut off in a gurgle. The now leaderless men stumble into sight of Master Gordon, one by one shouting out a scream of death as envenomed arrows pierce armor and flesh, before they fall to the ground as gracelessly as a scattered and tattered burlap sack tossed from a high floor window. Gordon’s eyes widen in fear as he understands what is happening…his own doom is soon to be at hand… The rapid twangs of bows is followed by over a dozen of his men slumping to the ground, a second volley is followed by another in short order as the citizens of Providence storm out of the smoke clouds and debris; they are taking their town back once and for all. Somehow the people of Providence have found the courage and means to stand against the Assassins Guild; despite the knowledge they will all perish in the end… Charging like the wildest of fanatics they head right for Gordon and his men. He has only two very simple choices to make – stand here and die for sure, or retreat into the manor. All that matters is for him to decide which he fears less: the mob or the silent manor house. “Retreat to the manor house with all haste…Go! Go! Go!” Half of his troops make it to the doorway, the rest dying under the hail of arrows and then under the blades of the mob when they sweep up over them. Just as he clears the doorway, one of his men pulls him to the side with an unaccustomed roughness, though as a salvo of poisoned arrows miss turning him into a hat rack for one time he does not mind. With a resounding slam the great iron doors are closed, the cross bar firmly secured. The citizens of Providence pound with impudent fury on the other side, their howls for blood and vengeance retorting like the cries of the banshees on the moors, foretelling of his pending death and judgment to come in the next life. Gordon thanks his fortune that Gerald built the manor as a fortress first and a home second…now the bigger enemy outside is out of his hair, all that remains to be done is find and gut Master Gerald. Passing from the entry foyer into the luxurious great hall, Master Gordon sees that things are definitely, and desperately wrong on a massive scale. The agents of Master Gerald lay all over the place, their armored bodies heaped three or four deep on the great stairwell ascending in the middle of the hall to the dimly lit halls above. Each of them bears the same markings of their death, a single, well executed cut to the heart or the neck; with a few felled from envenomed darts… “I guess Gerald finally went insane and killed most of his own men?” Gordon asked to no one in particular. One of his men howls in shock and surprise, back-peddling from a side room. His broken, hastily spoken words and gestures indicate trouble may await them beyond; until he enters behind his bodyguards…the remains of his six scouts, sent into the manor earlier, hang upside down by their feet from ceiling, a silken rope secures them to the great wooden rafters of the ceiling. Upon each one is a single slip of paper…which Gordon directs removed and the bodies to be cut down… The paper reads: Flee or share the same fate as I, death awaits you all around. The men who took up the papers, five in all, are observed to have their eyes roll up into their heads, deep pink and red froth emerging from their mouths as they fall over dead. Within seconds of their passing, the agents who have been cutting the silken rope began to choke, hands start to move to clench at their throats until muscles suddenly lock, eyes bulging out and turning blood red. Each of the seven men begin to take on surreal forms as their bodily muscles all begin to contract, inflicting untold of pain and soon causing the loud cry of bones snapping one after another… Until at last the neck bone sunders and allows them the escape of death. Gordon looks with absolute horror at the double trap that someone has set; a contact poison, absorbed through the skin, on the slips of paper; and then on the ropes themselves…just where someone would place their hands to cut the rope, and let their dead down… The hanging bodies move like a pendulum, as small bells rings in harmony of their movement, the call to the grave all of them will occupy for eternity. Gordon shouts for his men to spread out and search the lower floor; to scour all life from every room and hall that exists in the place. He looks back to the great iron doors, hearing the people of Providence being given orders to find a large beam or log they can use as a battering ram. He knows from the strength of the doors there will be only a small bit of time until they are battered down. “Master Gordon I have something here,” one of his agents calls from a room at the end of the hall. A moment later there comes the ringing of a small bell yet again…followed by the holocaust of fire and shrapnel that tears the agent and the three other men in the room with him, into smoldering lumps of flesh and meat that no longer can be recognized. From another room, just down the side hall from here a small bell sounds yet again; followed by the crashing of heavy furnishings to the ground. Soon enough Gordon sees the sight of bookcases piled on top of three of his men, one limb extended from beneath them holding a small golden unicorn that has a almost invisible cord of silk tied about it. One guard gives off a soft gurgling sound, passing into the convulsions of death from where a slender venom coated blowgun dart has hit him in the neck. Another guard suddenly jumps in front of Gordon, shielding him from the second to arrive. As he falls into death the remaining guards fire off their crossbows into the shadows above, seeking out their unseen assailant on the level above. Despite their best efforts three more guards fall into the eternal night all shall know of at the end of their days. “Someone is playing games here with us,” he said, enraged beyond anything now. He is going to make his old associate Master Gerald pay dearly for this, ending his madness and the insane game once and for all; tonight the gambit Gerald has played comes to an end – and violently at that if Gordon has his way… If he only knew how true his words are; just not as he has expected… “Back to the foyer on the double; get under shelter now and keep watch. When we have gathered get ready to storm the stairs and eliminate whoever is up there. Understand clearly, no survivors at all, absolutely no one is to live…when we find Gerald he is MINE alone!” Gordon tells his men, rage beyond reason and rationality burning in his body. Gerald will pay in the most hideous methods he can imagine; for bringing his world crashing down around him in his efforts to dispose of Grandfather. Crossbows or blades ready for battle, covering every possible spot of ambush they advance back the way they have come…unaware of the amethyst eyes watching them from the shadows. Gordon leads eight men into a side room, a small study untouched by the carnage already inflicted on the place. Far above the band of armed men, twin eyes of amethyst sparkle with the fiercest of flames, matching the grin of glee upon her face; they had no clue as to where she hid as she downed the ones with her blowgun…these assassins are true amateurs indeed. Silent as anything, even death would have been hard pressed to hear her pass by; she shifted from her location to the next, ready to watch and inflict the terror in full these assassins deserve; payment for the terror they have for too long inflicted unchecked on others. Assassin against assassin…The ultimate portion of the gambit… Queen against the final King on the chess board… |
|
|
|
|
06-14-2012, 01:28 PM
|
#118 |
|
Forum Porn Laureate
Join Date: Mar 2010
Location: Southwest Michigan FILTH AS LITERATURE Recommended XNXX Writer Multiple CAW Winner
Posts: 4,274
|
I have read and enjoyed this last portion. I am looking forward to the final showdown and finally.
__________________
"My aim is to put down on paper what I see and what I feel in the best and simplest way." . . . . . NEEDLESSLY VERIFIED: Pictures of my cock Writing Wrongs But Whom?
|
|
|
|
|
06-14-2012, 08:57 PM
|
#119 | |
|
Guardian of the Snow
Join Date: Jan 2008
Posts: 3,588
|
Quote:
|
|
|
|
|
|
06-15-2012, 01:34 PM
|
#120 |
|
Guardian of the Snow
Join Date: Jan 2008
Posts: 3,588
|
You will know fear...
Master Gordon turned to give the signal for the rush up the stairs. He explained the plan – secure the landing, spread out room by room in large groups and kill everything. The first hollow, booming slams of a ram on the great iron doors ring loud and clear through the manor; telling all they are running out of time to deal with the enemy within for once the doors are breached, they will face the wrath of those outside.
With a gesture the first group rushes up the stairs, while a second covers them, crossbows aimed at each of the shadows above…only for all to freeze when the soft chiming of a bell comes yet again when the first one up the staircase brushes a trip cord 2/3rd of the way up… Gordon sees the fine silken cord jerk for a moment to where it leads up to the rafters and connecting with a dozen small silken nets…that loosen instantly, scattering their contents of many small, egg shaped spheres out towards the floor below… He turns and dives with all haste that panic can induce into the room, knowing that he rushed against certain death as his final, desperate leap sends him into an uncontrolled roll ending with him slamming into the far bookcase… -BOOM! -BOOM! -BOOM! Master Gordon barely avoids the falling books and massive bookcases that sought to crush him. Five of his surviving band covers him, creating a solid armored wall between their boss and the room’s entrance. Once the smoke clears, a quick peak out shows the carnage, his men torn apart by shrapnel and fire… Such is the scene that no one can describe it…one of the survivors’ rushes into another room, grasping a vase to empty his stomach out into…only to be met by the fangs of a deadly Tai-Pan snake. Within moments he joins his companions in death. The explosions… The same kind of explosions reported to have taken out Cinnius; only the strength of the manor’s design kept all of it from coming down on top of him instantly. “Charge the stairs, anything moves ahead of us, shoot to kill and waste no time…” The great iron entry doors bang like a massive gong, the mob outside getting more coordinated in their efforts to breach them. Master Gordon estimates he has less than twenty minutes before they break open; and death will come in the most horrendous manner from without. Bounding quickly they cross the foyer, the main hall and up the stairs, trying not to look at the remains of so many dead…then the first to the upper landing looks about as a small bell chimes, followed by his grunt of pain and slumping to the ground…already in the final throes of death from the poisoned needle in his throat. |
|
|
|
|
06-15-2012, 01:38 PM
|
#121 |
|
Guardian of the Snow
Join Date: Jan 2008
Posts: 3,588
|
You will know terror...
The four remaining guards charge past Gordon, covering all approaches as he comes up behind them. He takes just enough time to pick up the dead mans crossbow and a handful of bolts, each one tipped in lethal venom. Making sure one is fixed on the bow, he tells them to head down the right hand hall. The attack came from the left, so they will circle back around and corner their prey – it can only be Gerald…maybe…
Room by room they search, quickly and efficiently, finding nothing more than bodies and silence. With the second floor cleared, they ascend a small stairwell to the third level. No ambush awaits them at the landing as they expected, just an area for the servants to eat at…the table still set with tea and biscuits out. Three of his men grab the partly filled cups while the fourth watches, declining any sustenance. In less than a minute the poison inside the tea sends them into pain wracked death, leaving Gordon and his lone surviving guard looking on at their horror filled faces, blood frothing from mouth and nose. The other man gave a sudden grunt, then collapses before Gordon’s eyes, going into death on the end of a deadly dart and its poison. Gordon dives into a nearby room, barely avoiding the mechanical trap that sends spears with razor sharp blades a moment too late. Boom! Boom! Boom! So comes the steady pounding on the great iron doors… Boom! Boom! Boom! Blow after steady blow, like a beating heart, the clock winds down with each one for Master Gordon. Pulling the spears out of the doorway Gordon hesitates; sweat beginning to bead on his forehead, as a small, subtle sound comes from his left, just down the hallway. Carefully as possible, he eases his hand around the corner and into the hall, to see if any reaction is generated. Then he lowers himself to the floor, and eases his head outward, crossbow in hand to shoot the first target that comes into sight… Only to have a trio of the envenomed darts miss him by a hairs breadth in quick succession. His desperate roll to the side and kicking out with his feet, propelling him into the hall, saved his skin…or so he figures… Then again, with a madman as Gerald appears to have become, anything is possible… Breathing hard, rage and terror mixing together, he bellows out for anyone around to hear clearly, “GERALD! COME AND FACE ME YOU COWARD!” He quickly heads deeper into the manors upper floor… Boom! Boom! Boom! The clarion call sounds again, fainter yet more and more steady of that battering ram on the iron doors. Crossbow held out in front of him he sweeps the long hallway, stopping by each silent room, glancing quickly into them to see if anyone waits in ambush. All is in perfect condition, looking as their occupants left them this morning…save that they will no longer be coming back. So silent is everything that not even a single mouse is to be heard moving in the area. Boom! Boom! Boom! Finally he advances close enough to the end to see where the end of the hall turns sharply to the left and the right, two branches and three rooms to pass for the ambush to come. Three rooms to search and then the halls to check; where is Gerald to be found? Boom! Boom! Boom! Three rooms become two with a quick glance. Boom! Boom! Boom! The next one has a partially closed door, with a shadowy silhouette off to one side; something is not right, the figure is just too still. As he reaches for the door of the last room to be checked, he stops. Just a hairs breath from his hand is the doors brass handle, the faintest glimmer of poison coating it – if he had touched it with his bare hand, death would take him quickly. A beautiful trap, lure him one way, force him to go for the unopened door and have the handle poisoned. It has almost worked – which means Gerald has to be around one of the corners ahead…which one… Boom! Boom! Boom! Sweat streams down his head and neck, as he knows the end game is now at hand…but which way…to the left or the right…which way… |
|
|
|
|
06-15-2012, 06:35 PM
|
#122 |
|
Forum Porn Laureate
Join Date: Mar 2010
Location: Southwest Michigan FILTH AS LITERATURE Recommended XNXX Writer Multiple CAW Winner
Posts: 4,274
|
Very good description of fast-paced action here. You are one of the very best at this. There was a lesson here too: When in a desperate fight to the death, never, ever stop for tea and biscuits!
__________________
"My aim is to put down on paper what I see and what I feel in the best and simplest way." . . . . . NEEDLESSLY VERIFIED: Pictures of my cock Writing Wrongs But Whom?
|
|
|
|
|
06-16-2012, 01:20 PM
|
#123 | |
|
Guardian of the Snow
Join Date: Jan 2008
Posts: 3,588
|
Quote:
This portion of the end game I wanted to emphesise the sheer chaos and utter paranoia the assassins (Gordons faction) have been reduced to. This is liken to a battle between two people with knives in a darkened room filled with rattlesnakes. No guarantees to who will win, or even emerge alive. And thanks. |
|
|
|
|
|
06-16-2012, 06:55 PM
|
#124 |
|
Guardian of the Snow
Join Date: Jan 2008
Posts: 3,588
|
The fourth King enters Check...
From nearby, among the very structure of the building, one moves silent as death; becoming the very shadows as she follows the last assassin. Footfalls so quiet that even a sleeping mouse is not roused, she moves ahead to prepare the end game…soon justice will be delivered after so long of time…and in such a dramatic way…
Once in position, she hears the soft footfalls echoing to her ears like the thunder of a heard of beasts in a full panic approaching. Her prey nears with each passing beat of a heart. Amateurs indeed, these so called ‘masters of death,’ amateurs indeed… ====== Step by step he stealthily advances, straining his ears to pick up the slightest sound; every instinct honed by his years of dealing in death yells that Gerald is off to the left. Just shy of the intersection, he shifts his balance and stance to jump ahead, planning to come in low and shoot high…any return shot of Gerald will pass right over him. Boom! Boom! Boom! Springing out he lands and shoots… Into completely empty space… The crossbow bolt slams into the far wall with a dull thud, the same sound in his heart as he awaits arrow or blade to slide into his heart. Boom! Boom! Boom! His world collapses completely, the doors will shortly be breached, and the death blow is to fall before that by the hand of Gerald; for one time in his career the deadliest of the four assassins has made a mistake… Blind instinct alone saved his life, as he flings the now useless crossbow above his bared neck and head; feels the solid, strong and all too real bite of a blade deep into its wooden mass. Twisting to one side he shoves with strength topped by sheer panic and fear as the blade pulls free of the wood, and two quick slashes miss him by a hairs breadth, two lockets of his hair falling to the ground in silent grace. Gerald continues his frantic twisting, turning, rolling and hopping dance with the assassin pursuing him; for who else could possibly command such skill as to take him by surprise. Even with all his skill, training and honed battle experience he cannot help but feel as if he is being toyed with… Then the hilt of his opponents’ sword slams full force into his forehead, and only a wild, fortune blessed kick out that connects with a meaty thud saves his life. He has only a moment to spare as his opponents blade lands on the ground with a loud clanging sound, leaving him the choice of offense, defense or pragmatic (i.e. run like Hades for his life). As he shakes his head to clear his blurred vision, he hears the soft thump of his opponent regaining their feet; and the gentle sliding of a blade on stone as its rightful wielder takes it up once again. Offense, defense or pragmatic…what tactic is he to employ? Whipping out a throwing knife from his sleeve; he uses it to parry the next slash coming his way, the echo of steel on steel carry far into the charnel house that Gerald’s manor has become. He blocks the next three of his foe, who jumps from shadow to shadow, always one step ahead of him, driving him back step by step, yet not taking the openings in his desperate defense to press home the killing blow… Pressing him back… Into a trap…one set to catch him from behind. In desperation, understanding dawning that the assassin here before him is only to push him back into the trap Gerald has obviously set up for him he redoubles his defenses, refusing to yield up a foot of ground unless he absolutely has to… Bumping into a small podium, Gordon pulls on the massive vase atop it with all his might, seeking to slow or crush his opponent beneath its great mass. The resulting crash whirls up a swirling, dancing, bellowing cloud of dust and dirt from which he hastily retreats, crouching low to one side, ready to spring the instant his opponent comes through the cloud. Taking a second blade in hand, he knows his foe will now die, for there is only one way past the cloud of dust and it is right past Gordon. He will stop this assassin that Gerald has pitted against him, and then deal with his old “friend” in person… The second blade is gripped tight in his hand by its razor sharp point, ready for the coming throw… He needs only one second of time for the perfect throw, the blow to end all blows…so he waits, and steady and still as death, as only a master assassin can… And waits… And waits… And waits…until the sweat begins to run down his face and neck, his arm muscles straining to be unleashed… He strains his hearing for the whisper of sound to tell of Gerald’s forces closing in from behind; while he still waits for the assassin to come from ahead. For a continuing eternity of time he waits; tense and ready, muscles screaming in pain and turning to leaden weights from maintaining a crouched pose into an eternity of time; yet only deathly silence is heard… Nothing, no noise at all…his opponent has to be waiting for him to come forward…through the settling cloud of dust that now shows the shadows beyond, all the lighting extinguished for the giving of complete cover… The world of the assassin, waiting to spring death on Gordon the instant he enters… “Unless,” Gordon softly whispers to himself, “the assassin has worked around me…” A near silent whisper comes from nearby, over his shoulder… He twirls about, a full half circle and thrusts out his one blade to block the expected blow; the other flung with great force to his target….that is not there… He knows death is at hand, having turned his back on his opponent and prepares to feel the fiery kiss of steel into his back… The blow does not come from behind though; it comes from ABOVE! The first smashing fist, or flat palm misses crushing his larynx by a hairs breath, then comes a savage flurry of kicks, jabs, and open handed attacks; such skill and attacks he has never imagined anyone could be capable of unleashing… His body rings as blow after blow strikes home, the pattern becoming all too clear as his opponent, dressed all in black and grey clothing, dredging up a memory from long ago…Shan Tiel, the old man on the mountain and his style of unarmed fighting… He is facing the old man himself! The one legend speaks of in dread whispers, the only one even the Grandfather of Assassins gave all deference to in the tales told; a matter of honor and a debt long expected to be paid over some old matter. Three roundhouse kicks smash him into the walls and then drive him to the floor; from which his assailant grabs him by the collar and lifts him off the ground, only to batter him more with an open hand, delivering blows so much harder than any punch he has ever endured. Throwing a wild punch, his wrist is grabbed and his forward momentum is added to the massive strength of his foe in the throw that slams him into the wall, the audible sound of ribs shattering heard by the both of them. Then the beating stops…blinded, panicked, and driven by imagined demons of his assailant all about… Fleeing in blind panic Gordon bounces down the right hand hallway, slamming off of walls and around the next corner; only to come face to face with Gerald…more precisely, his body, slowly swinging upside down from the rope running up through the rafters. His roars of uttermost panic echo long and loud across all the silent spaces of the manor. |
|
|
|
|
06-17-2012, 11:50 PM
|
#125 |
|
Guardian of the Snow
Join Date: Jan 2008
Posts: 3,588
|
Bounce.
|
|
|
|
|
06-18-2012, 05:46 AM
|
#126 |
|
Porn Star
Join Date: May 2012
Location: Aneheim, CA
Posts: 1,728
|
Snow,
Are you going to collect this story and put it on the story site when completed? |
|
|
|
|
06-18-2012, 06:43 AM
|
#127 | |
|
Guardian of the Snow
Join Date: Jan 2008
Posts: 3,588
|
Quote:
Figure it will be in the main site probably in a couple of months; I only set new stories out about every six weeks or so there. And due to the size it will be in probably two or three parts. How have you liked or not liked the last couple of chapters? |
|
|
|
|
|
06-18-2012, 07:43 AM
|
#128 |
|
Porn Star
Join Date: May 2012
Location: Aneheim, CA
Posts: 1,728
|
I have really enjoyed the entire thing. Thank you for your assurance that it will be going on the main story site; easier to capture for my Kindle
You show the attackers as being unstoppable (like Van Damne or Chuck Norris) but rarely go into detail about their actions; this makes them more real in my eyes. You tell the story from multiple viewpoints (something that can be hard to do well) and thus bring all characters alive instead of simply being props for the main few. Your story line is well plotted and I want to read the introduction of those pets again without the interruptions to see how that actually plays in the completed work - I STILL love the use and how you described it.  I have only seen them used in two other works that I remember. In one, the pet was actually killed to provide proof to put a murderer behind bars and in the other, it was a simple plot element (a two part episode of Criminal Minds).There is only one question that I cannot find answered: Why did grandfather have to die? I only hope to find out that "she who has the amethyst eyes" finds out who and why at the end. Maybe that blade will not then end short of its target.
|
|
|
|
|
06-18-2012, 09:24 AM
|
#129 |
|
Guardian of the Snow
Join Date: Jan 2008
Posts: 3,588
|
Darthel0101 - I will try to clear up some of the confusion with why the death of Grandfather occured:
Associate (a.k.a. Shan Fae) is the son of Shan Tiel. His SISTER was killed by the four assassins in the stories beginning. Grandfather is the leader of the guild who allowed the hit to happen, thus in the killing HE (Grandfather) has become a matter of family honor that had to be dealt with (life for life). Shan Tiel is the one who rescued the little girl at the beginning who is the one we know as "She who has the Amethyst Eyes." SHE is the grand-daughter of Shan Tiel. Her ties to the gambit are the four assassins who killed her parents; that is her matter of family honor to finish. And before anyone else asks, in the last part of the gambit, the next one I will post this week, their relationship will be absolutly clarified, plus a couple of other suprises. In the second reason Grandfather had to perish; consider the battle still going on for Providence to be free of the Guild of Assassins; so long as the head remained alive, as a rally point for the other guild agents and assassins, then victory could not be guaranteed. The guild had dominated Providence for a century or more; the people all but cowed into absolute submission. But when shown the guild and the leaders are vulnerable, they would strike back and hard. Hence - The death by flower of Finneous, the ale-house operation massacre, the explosive ending of Cinnius, and the sheer pandemonium of paranoia set into action by the two main characters. Also this was a matter of larger honor paid back in full in the saying of Karma coming back: The assassins took family and kin, so these two take the guild down and aid in freeing the city of Providence. Consider this question in modern day terms; if you wanted revenge for the death of parents and kin, as Associate and his lady do, and the city where the slayers are based in is held in the centuries old iron grip of a Mafia family how would you go about taking down the murderers and free the city at the same time? Also in reference to Gordon seeking the death of Grandfather; that one is very simple, in the manner of the assassin, to advance is by murdering those who are above you while guarding your back (and food, drink, etc) from those both BELOW and ABOVE you who see you as threat/opportunity. I guess I have been too subtle in some ways of the plot. I need to go back over it and check it all out to see where tweaking is needed.
__________________
To Dream of Dragons: Saga of Snow Cat Winter War: legend of the snow fox Sharks of Steel Last edited by snowleopard3200; 06-18-2012 at 09:28 AM. |
|
|
|
|
06-18-2012, 09:39 AM
|
#130 |
|
Porn Star
Join Date: May 2012
Location: Aneheim, CA
Posts: 1,728
|
PM time
|
|
|
|
|
06-18-2012, 02:36 PM
|
#131 |
|
Forum Porn Laureate
Join Date: Mar 2010
Location: Southwest Michigan FILTH AS LITERATURE Recommended XNXX Writer Multiple CAW Winner
Posts: 4,274
|
Still following. Still enjoying.
__________________
"My aim is to put down on paper what I see and what I feel in the best and simplest way." . . . . . NEEDLESSLY VERIFIED: Pictures of my cock Writing Wrongs But Whom?
|
|
|
|
|
06-19-2012, 01:13 AM
|
#132 |
|
Guardian of the Snow
Join Date: Jan 2008
Posts: 3,588
|
The gambit comes to its conclusion...
Upon the body is a single note:
Gordon – you are the last of the four, you took my family in blood and fire; so I take yours as well, your family of the guild and their city. You have danced to my tune for the last few weeks, I have controlled all, including now how you shall die. Ten years ago you sewed the seeds for your own destruction. “The girl…” he mutters, now understanding who he has been dealing with; the little girl of the banker they missed all those years ago. -Thud. The impact of the dart feels like that of a sharp hornets sting; followed by the burning, spreading of the poison upon its tip now coursing through his veins. The poison steals all the strength in his body, leaving him as loose as a rag doll casually tossed aside; only to be picked up like a sack of grain by a strong, young lady…and carried down to the main hall where she ties him to the banister of the stairwell. She moves to where he can see her eyes, those blazing fires of amethyst that tell his death is now at hand…and to show off the small billiard ball in her hand, which she places next to his manhood. As she walks off to a side hall, he sees one hand release a sling with a small lead shot within it; then the sling is spun…once…twice…three times and released back in his direction, followed by her lightning dive into a side room for cover. His eyes tracked the lead shot coming at its target…the billiard ball… He has just enough time to hear the front doors giving way from the mobs relentless pounding before the lead shot makes impact; and detonates the fiery witches brew held within. Needless to say, the ending for Master Gordon was both bright and fiery. As the mob rushes about through the smoke and scorched room they see someone else has already done much of their work and commence to plundering all they can take of value…no one pays attention to the smoldering, scorched and torn corpse by the banister that was the former Master Gordon. Word soon reaches them that the rest of the assassins guild has been crushed, the last dragged down unto death; the liberation of Providence is at last accomplished. The cost though has been high, for many are injured, some so bad they will join the fallen before the next dawn is seen. Buildings and homes have been destroyed or damaged; yet the town celebrates, for so long they have been terrorized by the Guild of Assassins and now they are free. The mysterious lady and her Associate showed that the guild could be beaten, helped arm and organize them; and now they are free. She with the Amethyst eyes walks among them in ease, dressed to appear as any other person, not wanting to be found out. Her grandfather and family now rest, the latter avenged once and for all; in taking her home and family she has returned the favor in spades, taking the town of Providence from the guild while shattering it at the same time. And in the same quest, her Associate has won his name and honor back. ************************* ************************* “My lady,” he begins, somewhat abashed as his voice cracks ever so slightly with emotion, “I wish you could stay here; there is plenty for us to do together, maybe…” he looked to see where her ever handy throwing knife was located, and shifted slightly to put a hunk of wood between her and his manhood… It never hurts to be safe when it comes to her skill with those throwing knives… “Maybe we could even have a family together…I don’t even know your real name yet, or if you even have one. It’s the one question of yourself you never answered…” he asked with a rueful look on his face; not even sure if she will answer him. She smiled softly, reached out for his hand and then motioned with her fingers over his palm; revealing in the intricate sign language more than he ever could have imagined. His eyes just widened in absolute shock! Never had he made the connection…he never would have! Her eyes glimmered with mischief and amusement, the amethyst fires dancing to and fro; as he accepts at last that she is the daughter of his long dead sister; the one who the four assassins – Finneous, Gordon, Gerald and Cinnius had murdered at the order of the now deceased Grandfather of Assassins. She is HIS NEICE!!! His shocked look remains until she eases up on her tippy toes, and gently kisses him on the lips; arms wrapping about his neck. He looks into her eyes, and sees the warmth and love reflected back at him, and yet, another secret her smile tells of more news coming his way… She softly strokes his cheek with one set of fingers, conveying in what most would regard as a gesture of affection, yet is their silent hand language, the next shock of his life… Make those two shocks… “You’re kidding?” he says, backing up a short distance within her grasp. She shakes her head to let him know she is not kidding or jesting in the least… She is going to stay in Providence with him; and there is even better news…they will have a family of their own after all; as she gently takes one of his hands in her own and places it upon her belly, letting him imagine the life growing within, though he knows it will be months yet before the first kicks will be felt… “Oh my lady, I am so happy for the both of us…” as he dances around like a drunken bumble bee, she just shakes her head, rolling eyes to the heavens and covers her face from the embarrassing mannerism he is so displaying. “Master Shan…” a voice comes from nearby, causing the two of them to see a band of townsfolk coming over; munching away on the remains of the wild boars he so generously provided for their victory feast. “Master Shan,” the new mayor of Providence spoke, his face covered in the sauce used to baste the boar’s ribs, “can you tell us what happened to the guilds Grandfather? You were seen to capture him, and take him away, if he is still alive we want to execute him ourselves…” Carrying a sheepish look of consternation on his face Shan Fae looks at them, gulps, looks to his lady who just shrugs her shoulders, and looks back to the mayor… “No the Grandfather is no longer alive,” Shan Fae said, “lets just say he was boared to death…” He looks back to his lady, and all that they have accomplished. For as with her uncle, she was trained by Shan Tiel in the ways and secrets of the ninja, the feared and deadly assassins of the Far East, to give her the edge among the deadliest killers of the western lands. Shan Fae just watches as her gaze lifts up to the night sky; the clusters of stars forming a river high in the heavens above, rendering unto her a mysterious, unworldly presence. It is that river of stars she has chosen as her personal name…”Pan li Lung,” or the “Celestial River Dragon of the Heavens.” It also has a second and more fitting name… “One who delivers vengeance for the innocent and the helpless.” And so it is that this tale of the Assassins Gambit comes to an end; two who risked all for justice, and to see the people of Providence free of the Assassins Guild have won the game. They now enter into the life of a family, and a time of peace. Yet should the need arise, they will go to do battle against any others who wish to take their home away… So one story closes; and a new legend, of she who has the amethyst eyes is born. (fin) |
|
|
|
|
06-19-2012, 01:22 AM
|
#133 |
|
Forum Porn Laureate
Join Date: Mar 2010
Location: Southwest Michigan FILTH AS LITERATURE Recommended XNXX Writer Multiple CAW Winner
Posts: 4,274
|
Bravo to a superb author and another great story. All is now well in the town because it was Providence.
__________________
"My aim is to put down on paper what I see and what I feel in the best and simplest way." . . . . . NEEDLESSLY VERIFIED: Pictures of my cock Writing Wrongs But Whom?
|
|
|
|
|
06-19-2012, 05:58 AM
|
#134 | |
|
Guardian of the Snow
Join Date: Jan 2008
Posts: 3,588
|
Quote:
|
|
|
|
|
|
06-19-2012, 07:03 AM
|
#135 |
|
Porn Star
Join Date: May 2012
Location: Aneheim, CA
Posts: 1,728
|
Thank you for your work.
WELL done. |
|
|
|
|
06-19-2012, 08:25 PM
|
#136 | |
|
Guardian of the Snow
Join Date: Jan 2008
Posts: 3,588
|
Quote:
|
|
|
|
|
|
06-20-2012, 10:09 AM
|
#137 |
|
Guardian of the Snow
Join Date: Jan 2008
Posts: 3,588
|
Final gratuitous bounce.
|
|
|
|
|
06-22-2012, 02:29 AM
|
#138 |
|
Porno Junky
Join Date: Jul 2011
Location: A Secret~
Posts: 286
|
Ah, a perfect ending to the gambit.
And the death dealers (pardon the pun) have rested. And yet again, she still (and you of course) manage to surprise me in the end. She is knows, and she's pregnant with his child~ Well done Snow. I look forward to your next endeavor. 
__________________
Currently working on my newest story; Blinded Love. Here's a link: http://forum.xnxx.com/showthread.php?t=274552 |
|
|
|
|
06-22-2012, 01:13 PM
|
#139 | |
|
Guardian of the Snow
Join Date: Jan 2008
Posts: 3,588
|
Quote:
|
|
|
|
|
 |
| Tags |
| blowjob, male/female, murder, sex, virginity |
| Thread Tools | Search this Thread |
| Display Modes | |
|
|
Linear Mode
