All Roads End Somewhere.

[The Hedge Knight 173]

((This is a post to end all the stories of my unfinished characters.

If you know them, or don't I still hope you enjoy the reads.))

 

 

Cameron Douglas

 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pUZeSYsU0Uk

 

A large man marches onward. His face is wrinkled, old. His once black fine hair now ashy and thin.

His knees are weak, he'd been walking for so long now. Even in his prime he'd feel this pain.

All his life he was plagued with leg pains and joint issues. 

His height and size used to be his pride, but now they crushed his mobility.

He looked around him, young folk running around, preparing to leave the land. It was chaos.

His old mind almost could not keep track, it no longer felt like keeping track.

He could not speak properly anymore. The scourge had ruined that for him.

His face was unsightly, and the only thing to his name was the armor he had taken with him.

The same old set of Rhodir armor that he'd found in Anthos, the one he felt was most fitting.
He continued to march, as he had done in his once glorious life.

Age does not discriminate, all patrons feel it's wrath at one point or another.

Cameron felt his joints burning, hotter than he had felt while fighting beside the lava pits of the scourge.

 

Amidst all the chaos a fire had started. His head turned, hearing a woman shout for her cat.

He dropped his luggage, age old armor sitting in a canvas bag, big enough to fit a child in.

Slowly he lumbered out, making his way to the burning home. He could hear the small creature.

It's sound was no average cat's meow, but a scream. The large man's heart could not handle it.

He barged into the building, against all shouts to stop.

He coughed, peering around the home for a way upstairs. He finally made his way to the steps.

Making his way up, the cries were louder and louder.

Finally, a large door before him. He slammed on the door, trying to bust it down.

Over and over, he banged on the door. His massive fists soon filling with splinters.

Finally, the door came from it's hinges, falling flat with a thud.

He entered the room, his eye red from all the smoke. He then saw it.

The feline had been clawing at the window, trying to open it. It then turned as the door fell.

He looked to the young feline, a smile drawing on his lips.

The feline had no intention of staying and bolted past him, right downstairs, and outside.

He stood there, unsure of what he expected.

Perhaps he was looking for gratitude. The gratitude his family never showed him.

He could not find it in him, a reason, for doing such a foolish thing.

He turned back, looking to the stairs. Small tears working up in his eye now.

He then made his way over to the stairs, trying to exit the building.

-CRACK-

He had fallen into the steps, the splinted wood stabbing up into his ribs.

Horrified, he yelled out. Then began to cough.

His legs kicked, but did not manage to reach the floor below.

His body weight pushed down on him, forcing the splintered wood more into his chest.

He soon came to cough blood, his nostrils flared.

He could not tell if he had been inhaling too much smoke, or if the wood had pierced his lungs.

He then gave up, his body unable to cooperate as it lost oxygen. The smoke being too heavy.

He looked up, his mind now playing back his most cherished memories.

Picking berries with his mother.

Playing with his puppy in the early day, then sleeping with his cat at night.

Practicing with a wooden sword, learning from his uncle.

Learning to ride a horse.

His first time on a boat, fishing.

And finally, that wood elf girl that brought him back to being human after his agony.

 

He slowly blinked. His life was nearing its end.

He could no longer feel his legs anymore. His whole body was numb.

He finally shut his eye, a tear rolling down his cheek.

He then smiled.

This was not the fate he would have wanted.

But fate was beyond his grasp.

Finally, a burning piece of timber had fallen from the roof, ending his time on this planet.

 

 

James Douglas

 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1WZi34V_5OU

 

The sea, an unforgiving place to be.

First son of Gavin Douglas, also the forgotten.

His father left him, his sister, and mother at a young age.

What was he supposed to do with no true father figure?

That's when the old sailor at dock had found him.

He ran away from his mother as she grew less sane due to the events of her life.

He looked to make his own start, one better than his father's rumored life.

Get rich fast, meet many open women, and have all the adventure your heart desires.

Not a bad deal.

He then became a deckhand at a young age.

He worked, eventually becoming your average buccaneer.

 He met a red haired woman, produced some landlubber children then left them.

Why not? He had no father and he turned out alright!

He battled, boarded, and stole much of his gains from the lesser merchants of Oren.

Finally, the Captain called the crew together.

"We're goin' after an ore hauler boys."

The crew was unsure, their captain seemed crazy.

But his words inspired them, and well, lets be honest ale has it's work in the mix.

The day came quick, James had only thought of the bounty he'd acquire.

He readied himself, his cutlass and buckler shield ready to go.

They saw the boat, a steam powered bastard. The men immediately felt shaken.

The Captain called for the boarding parties to ready, and they did so.

The boat came closer, then finally, through the mist the sails had shown.

Quickly the Captain's look changed. He looked to the men in disbelief.

The fool should've known Dwarves would not send such a wealth filled boat out alone.

It's counterpart was filled to the brim with axe wielding Dwarves, each better trained then the pirates.

The crew kept on doing as they would, the Captain dared not speak of his mistake.

He instead made his way down saying.

"Tell me when we's thar."

The crewmen nodded, they didn't know how to distinguish the Dwarves.

Finally it was time. The men began to get rowdy, ready to fight.

They came up on the boat, James readied himself.

Then suddenly, he saw it.

A large, slow steam boat following the one they'd been approaching.

His stomach twisted, his whole body loosened.

He looked back at the other boat, which now seemed to be hauling full speed toward their boat.

He backed up, looking around in terror.

Goosebumps went up his body, his face going pale.

Finally the men began shouting, screaming some.

It was too late.

The boat slammed, wrenching the whole thing sideways, cracking the haul right open.

Then, they came.

Yells of a couple dozen Dwarven marines erupted as they charged up their boat and into the other.

Was this how the victims of their raids felt?

James unsheathed his cutlass, swinging for one of the Dwarves.

His blade smacked right into a plate of Dwarven steel.

He backed up, his attempt useless.

The Dwarf returned his own swing, bending the flimsy cutlass and slicing into his arm.

James yelled out in pain, dropping his buckler to grip his injury.

He backed up more, watching his lads fall to the same fate.

They weren't armed for this.

The crew fell, axe to the ankle, axe to the gut, it did not matter.

He looked back to the Dwarf before him. His face one of complete and utter defeat.

The Dwarf laughed loudly, the smell of old bitter ale leaving his mouth.

Finally he spun his axe around and clubbed James in the head, knocking him out.

 

He then awoke, floating on a chunk of sinking ship in the middle of nowhere.

His arm still bled, he looked around to miles of open water.

Finally he exhaled, dropping his head back onto the wood he laid upon.

A poorly made wound dressing and a flimsy plank paddle later and he was off rowing.

Maybe he'd reach land before dying of starvation or thirst.

 

 

Igne

 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h_3QdRkwyiQ

 

Igne grew with a decent family.

He was a High Elf, things were always weird.

Preserve the bloodline!

His mother sold him off to her mentor and he then received countless beatings.

He was to learn how to manipulate fire.

That never happened. The master deemed him unworthy.

After running away from all the madness he faced with his High Elven family he got to Anthos.

He faced more garbage there then decided to just travel.

 

Traveling is not an easy life for a High Elf.

Oren was not too accepting of his kind.

He found himself in a much less suitable life style, his clothes dirty, his ears clipped.

He began to loose sight of who was meant to be.

Finally, he decided these lands were not for him.

He made his way to a small rowboat and kept rowing.

Through eating seagulls and other of the such he managed to make it to Athera.

Problem is, everyone left.

 

 

Kur

 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=U3TThcF-KBs

 

Following the death of the Empress Kur so loved and desired, he set off.

These lands brought him no more than a burning brothel, and dead friends.

Every attempt at opening an establishment was met with thug orcs asking for "donations".

He was even thrown off a bridge and left to drown. 

Kur couldn't swim.

Luckily some old man plucked him out, then nursed the small critter to health.

He now travels with this old warrior, cooking him all the finest meals and telling all the best stories.

Kur still tries to find it in himself to find his last remaining friends.

But the heartbreak the poor thing suffers from loss is far too great.

 

[The Hedge Knight 173]

~-Reserved-~

[Aedan The Bard 350]

One of the greatest character conclusion topics I've ever read. Your writing is heart-touching, man.

[Sir Verigan 21]

Wow! I can feel the emotion in the stories as each character goes down their path.

Awesome story writing!

[Roopak 21]

Wow, all the stories really touched my heart, especially the first and second one. You're an amazing writer.

[Jygg 330]

These are some really good stories. I like it.

[Suicidium 1295]

Although it was short, the stories were captivating and had heartfelt conclusions. 

[Dohvi 622]

Moved to the Archive. It shall be sorted into the appropriate category shortly.