Minegarde: LoneSyndal - Viewing Profile - Minegarde

I don't expect many fans of the game or so. I have played Guild Wars and own a box copy of the first four games. Got into the GW2 Beta Weekend and did as much as I wanted until I stopped while recording the gameplay for all to see. The first day seemed pretty fun. More than hundreds of people traveling on the screen to do a local event. Player base dwindled with players on time constraints and transfers to other servers, etc.

Playing as Charr for beta and full game when it comes out.


My Youtube contains videos of gameplay. I have more videos but they aren't uploaded yet as so I can use my connection during the day.


www.youtube.com/lonesyndal

Prelude

Time went by at a pace he could no longer cope with. Even in this space, he remained the same. Around him were visible afterimages of everything that had come and go. So was the life in the heart of the city. People, no matter where they went, never bothered looking at each other. Ignorance is bliss, or so the saying goes. The ignorant world of monotony was pitiful. Everything always came and went with it, nothing ever truly happening. When something happened, not even a soul would stop to help out. Everyone was out for themselves. His only friend was the night. The night was always there, always embracing him with its shade. He sat with legs pulled to his chest, curled into a ball. This form hid away his tears and loneliness. It kept everything away.

He wasn’t sad. Only anger fueled his heart and soul. The world had already rejected him in mind and body. Even his family from birth called him a mistake. To him however, everything was fine as it is. Everyone that took away his light and shine was already dead. His anger stemmed from the burning hatred of not because of the dead, but because of the one who took away his prey. The one who had taken everything away gave him a gift. In his hand was the same weapon used to remove the ones he despised, and with the same weapon he would kill the one who had taken it all away. He would become one with the night. With his gift, he could become even a god. And with such power, he could end his deep seated hatred and return to the cycle that was filled with ignorant bliss.


His target was only beyond the door that was just a few meters away from where he sat. It was the perfect setting – a backdoor to a restaurant in an alley that people rarely visited. When it opened, a man came outside with a loose collar and vest. He rolled up his sleeves to reveal a tattoo of a phoenix’s wing. Everything matched the description.

The boy who sat curled up lifted his head from between his legs and muttered in a raspy tone, “Sir… do you have any food?” The most likely reaction would be a rejection.

“Oh? You want food, huh?” The man’s voice was intense. He cracked his knuckles as he walked up to the boy. “My boss has been really nagging at me lately. If you want food, you’ll have to earn it after this!” He lifted the child up and slammed him against the wall. The tight grip around the child’s collar caused him to choke. It didn’t stop the man however as he sent a punch into the boy’s stomach.

He was used to the pain. This was nothing compared to what he had to go through. The child managed to smirk in the situation, “So do I get my food?” He felt another blow to his stomach, making him cough up the saliva in his throat and then dropped to the ground. The answer was obvious however, he wouldn’t get any food, but he couldn’t let his target get away either.

“Just get the hell out of my sight!” the man rubbed against his bruised knuckles, walking with his back turned to the child.

From his pocket was a metallic contraption which he pulled and was now in his hands. His small two hands held the device in the proper position. When he pulled the trigger, the weak caliber handgun launched a pellet that contacted the man’s back, penetrating one of his lungs from behind. The body fell to the floor just as the smooth jazz played from the speakers around the district.

The man turned his head around from where he lay and saw the red eyes in the shadows of the alley. From there he knew what was going on, but he couldn’t say much when coughing out blood and lacking the air to shout. The thoughts in his head raced as the child held the small black old-fashioned pistol with the same smirk on his face.


“Lucifer!”


The alley echoed with another gunshot, but was almost inaudible compared to the loud jazz that played. When the music faded, so did the child who disappeared in the alley.

Author's Note: This is a complete remake made in my vision instead of basing it off of a game. I hope this appeals to a larger audience with its style than the others. ;P

EDIT: As always, please send notes or messages of criticism to my Profile Page or PM box. Any thoughts or messages regarding this or other pieces are welcomed as I need a lot of fixes and help to perfect my style.

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Chapter 1


It was said that God abandoned his people, but never did anyone said he saved them. A long time ago, people truly believed he was the savior. The fate of Man was at risk when they lived in the abyss. Only when He descended did the people began fighting back for he taught them Light. Within the deepest pits of the Darkness, there is always a Light. This truth brought equilibrium and balanced the scales in Man’s favor against the residents of the Dark. However, even in the heart of Light, there was only more Darkness. When the people began to take notice, they were too late and faced even more perils and soon, the world began to crumble.

When all else failed, Man sent its many champions into The Void. It was said that God hid a Door within their world. The Door was said to hold the key to salvation for at the other side rested God himself. There was no place throughout the known world that would hide a Door as well as The Void, the place of no return. Every champion that ventured into The Void never returned…



They all seemed to mock him. Without a memory, an objective, a goal, he ventured the dark hallways of the manor. Every painting, every piece of art, the design of the hallways of the manor all seemed to intimidate him with its design - a jester who pointed fingers and laughed, a peasant who looked down upon a knight, a slave who became knighted with a hoe against a master of the sword. Everything seemed to mock those who had power and skill. The man was quite confident of his skill, or so he assumed. He had a blade, a well-shaped carcass, and an unknown sense of bravery.

Every step he took into the darkness, he could feel himself slowly fading. The dark seemed to eat away at him until it completely consumed the bit of light he had. A great deal of time had passed and the feeling of fear and loneliness clouded him. These useless thoughts, however little they may be, continued to grow and engulf the little light he had. When he reached a spiraling staircase, he saw a large painting against the wall and a window above on the opposite wall with a moonlit glow that revealed the frame. The painting showed a crow perched on top of a large skull that seemed to grin at him. A playful Death, he thought. It too was mocking him. However, that feeling of shame faded when he walked up the steps into the moonlit glow. The bit of light it had seemed to melt away the fear, the loneliness, and brought about his inner strength. He stared at the moon and his face became awestruck when the once glowing white moon became red in and instant. The red glow illuminated through the window and he began to feel uneasy.

Caw, Caw! The crow gawked at the man who turned to the painting to see the skull had disappeared from its frame. The crow perched on the railing of the stairs just before him and stared, as if waiting for its prey.

The man unsheathed the blade from its scabbard and held it up before him, ready to strike at anything. When he turned around, his body stiffened at the sight of a creature he never laid eyes on before - its head was of a goat with large curled horns on its head, a body of a human, and the four legs of a horse. It seemed unreal, but he knew it was there. Its breathing was audible through its nostrils, eyes of bloodlust that seemed to have come for him. The man then heard the words flowing into his head:


“I am the fate that has come for you.”


He tightened his grip on the hilt of the sword and prepared himself in his usual stance, a lunging pose. The creature saw his will to fight and slowly walked up the steps and pointed at the man with its left arm, then back to its chest. It was as if the creature was inviting him to make the first strike. However, the knight didn’t give in to its temptation for he knew that any rash action would be his downfall. The Void was never such a safe place.


“You can never rebel against Fate. Accept it, and be born anew. The Old Kingdom… is such a place.”


The knight continued to ignore the words and stared down at his foe that made the first move instead. The creature charged into the knight who in return ducked to the side and slashed one of its forelegs. The stairs made it harder for the creature to retaliate and the man swiftly moved to its back and slashed the tendons of its hind legs. The once intimidating creature was now kneeling along the stairs and was being looked down upon by the knight who smiled at him with bloodthirsty eyes. The knight felt alive. The thrill of combat, the rush in the heat of moment, he could feel himself burning with might as he slew the beast with a swift blow at its neck. When it fell, the knight felt the rush of glory. He triumphed over fate!

However, the moon still emitted its red glow. The eerie glow made the dark manor seem more of an abyss than before, but it no longer mattered to him. He wanted to ride on this momentum to the very end. He continued to climb the spiraling staircase until he reached the top. At the end, he was once again in a room draped in darkness. He felt around the room for an exit and found a doorknob. He twisted it and heard the clicking of the lock. Just as he pulled the door open, he felt his body lurched forward and pulled by something. His body slammed into the floor and he quickly tried to dig his fingers into the ground and felt the marble floor strip away his fingertips and nails. He could feel the warm ooze of blood flowing from his hands as his body continued to drag against the floor until his back slammed against a wall. The man’s body was held up in the air, his feet nowhere near the ground. Before he could reach for his sword, his arms and legs were then pulled away, rendering him unable to move. And there he felt a hand covering his mouth as the creature that he thought he slew before stood before him again under the faint red moonlit glow from a nearby window. Its eyes were filled with anger, malice, and vengeance. The creature flared its nostrils as it pierced the man’s body with one of its arms. The knight couldn’t do anything as he was held there. He felt a hand covering his mouth as he tried to cough up the blood. The creature pulled out its hand and grabbed hold of his leg. In an instant, it tore the knight’s leg off his torso and did the same to every other limb. The man tried to cry, but was still being held back by these strange hands that came from the walls and ceilings of the hallway. When his eyes tried to close, they were forced open, being done in by the Fool’s Hands. He could do nothing but watch as the creature ripped open his stomach and spill its contents onto the floor. And there, he knew it was all over.


“Welcome... to The Old Kingdom.”

Author's Note: This is like a teaser trailer of the series. Every time I re-imagine this specific character, I cant help but feel too attached to him as he is the very first character I created.

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It was in the midst of darkness that this man continued to climb an endless flight of stairs. Each step revealed itself when its turn came and the previous faded. The trail continued upward through the vast darkness and at the ceiling was a glimmer of light.


"From nothingness, a tool was forged."


His hands gripped on the hilt of his sheathed blade as he continued.


"Imbuing reason, it became a pure entity.


The ceiling grew closer with each step, his legs began to pick up speed. He could feel his body tingle in excitement, hatred, and fear.


"To shatter reason, it had to be refined."


The steps began to spiral towards the circular hole in the ceiling.


"Given rationality, it began to think for itself."


He took his first step into the blinding light. His arms covered his eyes as the strong gusts of wind blew against him.


"With wisdom, it learned doubt."


The wind subsided, allowing the man to see the desert around him. Just a few paces ahead lay the throne. He wasn't alone. There was someone sitting there surrounded by a graveyard of instruments of war. He could tell that the person sitting there was the source of the voice he had been hearing on his way up.


"Come forth, Champion of the Void. The world awaits you."

Author's Note: Some of you may remember this. I kept some chapters the same with slight edits because they portray what I was going for when writing this. I have decided to release my books in a specific order for publishing and hopefully it goes well.

The Current Order for Project Leingod Series: Belkan Days, Belkan Crisis, The Crescent War I, The Crescent War II, The Old Kingdom

With that said, I'll be working at my best for this one, using the thoughts and minds of people in RPGs like "The Games" to portray the psychological situations the characters enter. Now for the re-release of the first chapter of one of the starting series I released here.


IMPORTANT NOTE: These will not be listed as Chapters in the official work but in Acts. When a whole Arc finishes, I will mark it as "End of Act I" and so on.
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Chapter 1




“Useless…”

“Worthless…”

The door opened slowly as the bald-headed teacher entered the classroom. He tossed aside his binder and clasped his hands together, breathing in and out until he mustered the confidence to face his high school class of sophomores.

“You have no place in this world!”

“Good day class, as you may have heard, we will be introducing a new student to our cubicle!” his voice echoing without a hint of nervousness from earlier.

He waved his hand towards the door and the new student walked in. He had a brand new uniform – a white dress shirt with black slacks and a tie, short black messy and curly hair, and a pair of eyes that seem to daze off into the distance as if he stared at only nothing. The class only gazed in awe and delight at the new face that didn’t even bat an eye to the rest of the class.

“You think you can match up with your old man?”

“Due to family circumstances, he will be staying in our private institution for the time being, I hope you all will give him a warm welcome. Let’s give our best to Dylan Faust.”
The class broke into applause, brightly cheering for Dylan as he sat down at his assigned seat. With the beginning of the lecture until the end of the school day, the boy had not once strayed away from his awkward gaze into the distance.

“In the end, you’re just trash like the rest of them!”

Several minutes have passed after the ringing of the bell. The classroom was empty except for Dylan, still sitting in the same position and posture. He began to mutter some words softly, even without people around.

“Everyone is better without me, I’m not needed… isn’t that right?”

Tears slowly dripped from his face as he continued, “I want to die… and yet I cannot bring myself to it, why is it so hard?” and he placed his face in between his arms.

The door opened again revealing the teacher who only returned to retrieve his belongings until he caught sight of the boy sobbing at his desk.

“Dylan? What’s the matter?” he asked, approaching the child slowly.

“Am I really that worthless?”

The teacher was surprised and stunned by his words, but as a teacher, he pushed himself to try and find out what was going on with the new student, “I don’t remember anyone calling you that. What seems to be the problem?”

Dylan stood up from his desk, wiping the last of his tears into the sleeves of his shirt. His eyes pierced into his teacher’s and his body emitted a deadly vibe that even made him take a few steps back.

“I am sorry, I seem to be out of it Professor Valesque, I will take my leave for today,” Dylan said, giving off a faint smile as he took up his bag and walked out of the classroom.