The past told in the present (standard:poetry, 1346 words)
Author: Mazrim Taim	Added: Dec 29 2000	Views/Reads: 3723/2249	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
This is my first submission, so I could really use feedback. It is the story of a knightly quest to save the world from an evil taint that touched the world in a time forgotten.

Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story

The world is now what it should be so go, 

Will you end all that these people know, 

Imagine the chaos they will rent, 

Once their whole world is bent, 

But that is saying too much, 

You cannot save the world from our touch, 

You are too weak and we too strong, 

So stop before we freeze you in a prison of time everlong," 

And the five men, these knights of valor, 

Refused to turn around and offend their honor, 

In retort they spoke the words now considered divine, 

"On our quest we won't draw a line, 

Step out of our path or we shall cleave, 

We will do anything to make you leave, 

The common is more important than the individual, 

The greater good does rule, 

The power in all of us that rest within, 

Is it out of the purview of your sin, 

We will be valiant and commit the ultimate sacrifice, 

Now get out of our way, for you smell and have lice" 

Now with the trolls being offended they heaved and threw their clubs at
the knights, 

But they were stopped by the last vestiges of what once was, the
sprites, 

9 feet in height they appeared from dust, 

And unsheathed their swords and into the trolls hearts did they thrust, 

The sprites chose to speak, 

"You are only our hope, so this information I will leak, 

Ride west to the last one, 

He will provide what is needed to load your gun, 

Your gun of a chance that is, outdated by a million years, 

So ride, he is the last of your peers, 

Remember what you fight for, 

We can't ask for any more," 

Saved from their death, they knew what must be done, 

The quest had once more begun, 

Days and days they toiled on end until their legs became a twist, 

Riding as if tommorow did not exist, 

With no end in sight, 

The group decided to camp for the night, 

Into the tent the leader of the group went, 

Called Jezabel, because in that land destruction he did rent, 

Following in his path was the lanky axe-wielder, 

Called Durham, followed by the shielder, 

Miscas, who was followed by the healer, 

Whiskal, and then the death dealer, 

Croscus, for there was no man he could not slay, 

Atleast he had not met one up in his up until today, 

Clear drops of rain began to fall from the sky, 

And in the air strange creatures began to fly, 

The rain turned the color of green and landed and became ooze, 

It filled the ground, boding bad news, 

And then it morphed into something having even less pleasance, 

And became monsters of green dripping of their essence, 

Slowly towards the unarmored men they marched, 

And the men were too tired to fight with throats dry and parched, 

So they attempted to run from this menace, 

But they were captured in nets the color of lettuce 

Part 2. 

Dragged on the ground they were, 

The monsters were on a quest none could deter, 

They were souless and lacked minds, 

They were held together by the force that evil binds, 

Thus they were fearless and did not fear destruction, 

And could not be destroyed except by extreme suction, 

And even this suction did not eradicate them completely, 

It just bottled them up rather neatly, 

But a plan of action did not enter one of the knights head, 

They were still unconsicous, quiet as the dead, 

Lolling along the entourage went, 

Then Jezabel arose in pain, feeling as if his head was bent, 

Awakening from a dream, his perception of reality was altered, 

He had forgotten they had been captured, in one way or another faltered,


He had dreamed of a ring, shining on the horizon, with the power to end
the cataclysm, 

Shining so bright, blurring his vision, 

To slip it on his finger would be an act so innefable, 

Wielding power so undescribable, 

But with the arise from the world of dreams the vision shattered, 

And with it, the memory splattered, 

The fragments splintered his mind like shards of glass, 

And he felt himself supine in morass, 

And he rubbed his eyes and opened them to the light, 

And he saw himself sinking into the ground, 

And his companions slowly falling without a sound, 

With a shriek he tried them to wake, 

But he was not within the reach to give them a shake, 

Slowly Croscus woke from the realm of another plain, 

And with a start he started clawing with ground to gain, 

The others started falling into the abyss, 

And there was no hope for them, it was time for them to accept mother
earth's kiss, 

Frantically the two men tried to climb out of the predicament they were
in, 

But they kept falling farther and farther, unable to win, 

They were unaware of the rules of quicksand, 

The harder you try, the more quickly from the world you are banned, 

And then under his foot Croscus felt something like a vine, 

He knew if it was what he thought it was his last lifeline, 

But reaching for something of which he was unsure was a risky endeavour,


If it was only a mirage of the mind, his arm would be stuck forever, 

So he gathered his courage and into the sand he did thrust, 

And his face fell in, and now air was his lust, 

Unable to breath he slowly pulled himself along, 

With muscles burning, having no idea of how far he was along, 

And then the oxygen started to deplete, and black became the norm, 

And he resigned himself to a death of quiet after the storm, 

But he decided to give one last try, 

He did not yet want to die, 

And he put one hand in front of the other and opened his mouth in
attempt for one last breath, 

And he saw a man standing before him, most likely the seraphim of death,


But instead of finding sand in his chest, 

He knew air once more, but he needed rest, 

Strength to continue he did not posses, 

But he started rising from the morass nonetheless, 

The angel of death was none other than Jezabel, 

But for now Croscus slept, later on his thoughts he would dwell 


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