The End of Infinity

Hello there, its me, Alipeewee, someone who you probably don't know. That's because I'm mostly new to the world of writing. I've attempted to write pokemon fanfics before now, but they all died after the first chapter because...well, they sucked. Hopefully, this story isn't quite that bad. It is not a fan fiction but an original piece of writing, set in a world that I have created for the purposes of this story. As you can guess from the thread title, I'm struggling to think of a title for this tale (heh, semi-alliteration) so if you have any strokes of inspiration, please do share them. Anyway, that's all I can think of to say right now so sit back, read, enjoy, then give me a review! ;)




I gritted my teeth as my entire body was jarred by the impact of steel on wood. A crack resounded throughout the impromptu sparring ring and I glanced down in shock. As I feared, the crack had been the sound of my shield splitting, a huge line down the middle. Biting my lip, I shook it off my arm and it fell in two pieces as it landed on the ground. My opponent grinned as he leapt forwards. Once more, he swung his weapon – a fifteen pound hammer, its handle four hand-spans long. I threw myself backwards, swinging my own identical weapon, smaller and lighter than his. With a huge effort, I pushed his hammer to the side and landed, stumbling slightly. Seizing the opportunity, he raised his own shield and batted me round the head. I fell to the ground and he laughed, stepping forwards and swinging his weapon once again. I shut my eyes, then opened them a crack. As I had known he would, Brent had held his swing, leaving the weapon dangling directly above my face, the short spike on its head pointing between my eyes. Chuckling a little, he swung it over his shoulder and stepped back before dropping his shield to offer me a hand. Gratefully accepting it, I pulled myself up and slowly rotated my left wrist. The shield seemed to have mostly protected my hand – nothing was broken at least. At last, my mentor spoke.

"Your technique is improving," he declared, "But you still fight too passively. Go to your enemy; don't wait for them to come to you." I nodded, but didn't say anything, swinging my hammer in a recently learnt attack pattern, fighting invisible foes. Brent studied me, then stepped in front of me as I finished. He muttered something, almost too low to hear.
"Do you want this?" I frowned, somewhat confused.

"Of course. I want to be able to defend myself, to defend the tribe, to–"

"No." His voice was flat. "I mean, do you really want this? Your training is almost complete and once it is, you will become an official guard to Chieftain Kemble. When that happens, you will go to be a member of the tribe, under him. No longer an apprentice, under me. Are you willing to sacrifice your freedom and choice in order to better serve this tribe?" I didn't reply. How could I? We both knew that it wasn't truly what I wanted. Haltingly, I spoke, the words stumbling out of my mouth.

"It is…necessary…for the tribe's survival." He sighed.

"Sometimes you have to put yourself before the tribe. You have no obligation to do this. If you so wished, you could leave. Head east, to the land of the scholars and academics." I shook my head, smiling a little.

"There's nothing for me among those toga-wearing bores. I'm suited to a tribal life, not sitting around and eating honey-roasted dormice while discussing philosophy. Besides, I have a life here. I couldn't just abandon everyone." Brent nodded, then turned, motioning to me to follow.

"There's a meeting soon," he announced, "At sundown. As the protector of this tribe, I have to be there, and as my apprentice, you also have to be there." Without saying another word, he strode off towards the main campfire and I quickly hurried after him. As I did, I looked around the camp.






At the moment, we were pitched at the base of Gratün Marjug, or Giant's Steps in the old tongue. The mountain was aptly named, for the entire thing was completely regular in shape – like huge boxes stacked in a pile with the smallest at the top. There were no cut paths, though and climbing it was forbidden for safety. Should someone fall from the top, they would be washed over each 'step' by the powerful waterfalls that surrounded the mountain. At the summit, there was a large lake, fed by underground springs. Legend claimed that the water of the lake had the power to grant immortal life, but this was normally dismissed as an old wives' tale. There were still a few kooks who would risk their lives to scale the mountain, though. I drove my thoughts away from the mountain for the moment, however, to focus on the larger mystery of what this meeting was all about. In my entire life with the tribe, there had only ever been two councils such as this – one when the chief died and there was a dispute over the succession and the second time less than a year ago, when the tribe had been travelling and gotten lost in the ice fields to the south. So whatever had happened, it had to be something truly huge for a council to be called.






Lost in my thoughts, I wandered past the central fire and followed Brent into the chieftain's tent. Many people were already sitting around with sombre looks on their faces. There was Kemble, the chief and his wife, Armelle. People often said they made an odd couple, as Kemble was a large man, standing a head taller than most. By contrast, his wife was a short and slight woman, who looked even more so when she stood by him, as was often the case. Sitting across from them was the tribe's doctor, Coalan, a hook-nosed, lanky and repulsive man with whom I shared a mutual hatred, stemming from an occasion upon which one of his treatments had failed miserably and I had called him up on it. There were other people there, the rarely seen priests and shamans, the chief of hunters and as far as I could tell, everybody with any importance within the tribe. Brent, as the Protector and guardian of the tribe, took a seat on the floor by Kemble. As his apprentice, I stood behind him.

"What is this about?" I whispered to my mentor, but he just shook his head.

"I don't know," he replied honestly, "I was simply told that this was of utmost importance." Then, Kemble clapped his hands twice and the
buzzing that had filled the tent disappeared. He rose to his feet and cleared his throat

"I'm sure you are all wondering what this is all about. I would first like to inform you that as far as we know, we are not in any immediate danger." As he said this, a collective sigh went around the room. Council was normally only called during times of great peril. "However, we are not entirely certain of our safety either." Now everybody was back on edge. "During a recent hunting expedition, Melgon and Biwon discovered something – a crypt." Mutterings broke out across the room. Disturbing the dead could bring down all kinds of evil. "They entered it and found that it held a tunnel, leading underground to deserted and ancient catacombs. The pair of them entered the tunnels and while down there, they became separated after Melgon fell through the tunnel floor. He remained where he was, so that he could be more easily found, but by the time Biwon reached the area where he was, he had disappeared, leaving behind nothing but this." With a theatrical flourish, Kimble threw something down into the centre of the circle of people. I craned my neck, trying to see what it was. As soon as I glimpsed it, I understood. Lying there, forlorn, was the clan necklace. All male members of the tribe wore one; they were ceremonially carved from the bones a man's first kill in the hunt. Mine was dangling around my neck right now, the fragment of a doe's skull cool against my chest. Everybody always kept them clean and unblemished, as a sort of superstitious good-luck charm, but Melgon's was not clean. It had been stained with blood.

Well there you go, the first part of my brand new story! please, let me know if you liked it! There may be a few comments which seem a little random to begin with, but I'll try to explain this world throughout the tale without destroying the narrative.

Reviews please!

Chapter 2

Well, here is my second chapter, very, very late. As before, if there is anyone reading this (unlikely) then please, give me a review to let me know what you liked, what you didn't and where you think I could improve. And by the way, I have a title in my head, so I will be PM'ing Astinus after this post ot get the title changed. If you think it sucks though, go ahead and let me know ;) Now, without further ado, onto the second chapter!



"We can't risk a journey into dangerous territory." Kemble sighed as Brent made this decision.

"Surely, it's worth the risk? Melgon could still be alive -" Brent snorted, interrupting the chief.

"Come now, you don't believe that, do you? He is dead and others will go that way if we send them into the catacombs!"

"Well we have to do something!" Kemble snapped, his face bright red. "What do you think people will say if I suggest that we run like cowards? Melgon's family will want to avenge him, against whoever or whatever took his life."

"Survival comes before pride! Chieftain, it is my solemn duty to protect this tribe from danger wherever possible. If that means physically restraining you to keep you out of those tunnels, I will do it." Kemble sighed; even he knew that Brent was famed for being incredibly stubborn and unmoving when it came to his duties.

"Very well," he snapped, "But you can be the one to tell his family that we'll be leaving his body down there, to be slowly devoured by scavengers."



Melgon's family took the news as badly as had been expected. His mother dissolved into a pool of tears and there was a distinct feeling that had he not been busy comforting his wife, Melgon's father would have taken a swing at Brent when he revealed that he would not be allowing a rescue mission. I myself had wondered over this decision, but Brent had been right. There was no point in taking an unnecessary risk to recover a dead body. His father wasn't seeing it that way, though. That night, as I sleep, I hear the sound of rustling and muffled clatters, like someone fiddling with a weapon. I look around the tent that I shared with Brent and see him fast asleep. Rather ironically, the body-guard of our tribe is a very heavy sleeper. Picking up my battle-hammer, in case the rustling is a wild animal or a rival tribe, I quietly push the tent flap open. The fire is dying, but there is enough light to see the man standing opposite, frozen in a mixture of fear and guilt. Melgon's father is standing there, his pony by his side. In his right hand is a short spear and in his left, a small, square shield. There is a dagger tucked under his belt also.

"I can't allow this," I mutter, but the half-hearted tone of my voice is obvious even to me.

"It's not your decision to make," he says, his voice low and empty, betraying the loss that he feels, "Nor is it Brent's, or Kimble's. Melgon was my son, this is my mount and these are my armaments. Why should anyone else dictate how I use them?"

"Your wife has already lost a son," I reply, "If she loses her husband too…" I leave the sentence unfinished. Both of us know what grief that horrific can do to a person. Unfortunately, this man is in no mood for reasoning.

"Why do you I assume that I am unable to take care of myself?" he spits with unexpected venom, then looks to the mountain which shades us at this very moment, "The lake at its peak…they say it can heal any wound of the flesh-"

"It's a myth," I interrupt, "A fairy tale." The bereaved man just shakes his head.

"I'm leaving now," he says in a slow, careful voice, "Please, do not stop me." I look at him for a few seconds, then shake my head. I have no right to, nor the will. Before he leaves, he makes one last parting request.
"If I have not returned by dusk tomorrow, seal the catacombs. Bury whatever evil lurks in there." I swallow nervously, then nod. I cannot speak. Somehow, both of us know that this is a doomed mission. But it is one that he is compelled to undertake.



There is the sound of rustling from my tent. Brent is finally stirring.

"Go now," I say, finding my voice again, "Before anyone arrives to try and stop you." Quickly, Melgon's father turns on his heel and mounts his pony. He trots out of camp as Brent emerges from the tent.

"Who were you talking to?" he calls, seeing me outside. I just shake my head and sigh, but Brent knows what that means.
"Melgon's father has gone to look for him, hasn't he?" he barks gruffly. I nod in reply, feeling numb. Brent curses, then stumbles back into his tent. A few moments late, he comes out with his hammer and shield. I gasp.

"You can't go!" I shout, but he just sniggers.

"Really? Why not?" He asks sarcastically

"Because you'll almost certainly die!"

"That wasn't enough to let you stop him, though was it?"

"He had lost his son! Who are we to tell him what to do?" Brent spits on the ground.

"You're a bloody fool!" he retorts, "Do you think he would still feel this way if we left him for a few days? Of course not! He is emotionally unstable and because of that, you have just sent him to his death!"

"Well maybe he'd rather die out there, doing something, then sit here in slavery!" Brent stops.

"You think it so noble to die for what you love? Fine. You have decided it for me! I am going to retrieve Melgon's father and if I die in the process…" he looks at me angrily, "…Well, at least I'll have died doing something!" He storms off as I stand there shocked. I can't allow Brent to die. If he does…I push that though out of my mind. Brent is already fading into the night mist, but the ground is wet and he is leaving tracks. If I take him by surprise, I may just be able to stop him before he enters those tunnels of death.

Sorry, but I can't do a proper review until all of the paragraphs are spaced out. It looks like one big wall of text; moreover, one big headache as well. Unfortunately, you need start a new paragraph any time a person speaks and such.

New paragraph? I always thought it was just a new line....my bad, I'll fix that up now

Chapter 3 is here! If anyone is bothering to read, C+C, R+R and while you're at it, give us a review!





Something is wrong. I have been following these tracks for almost five minutes, but according to Biwon's guess at the location of the catacombs, we're going the wrong way. In fact, we're on exactly the opposite side of Gratün Marjug to where the tombs apparently are. So either Melgon's father has gone the wrong way, or Brent is deliberately leaving false tracks. I doubt that he would bother though – while he has the brains to do so, he's already got to catch up with his target and he's carrying a fifteen-pound hammer. He won't want to be doing any more running than he has to. I gulp in fear as the tracks go directly into the mountain, then stop. Brent must have climbed the mountain. But why? Taking a deep breath, I reach out and grasp a protruding rock. I check it, to see if it can hold my weight then slowly, cautiously, I pull myself up. I have only climbed a few times before and I am not confident, but after a while, I get into a rhythm. Reach, grab, pull, step, reach, grab, pull, step…the cycle becomes a monotonous drone, sending me into a trance-like state. So much so, that I almost don't notice when I reach the top of the first 'step'. My arm flails madly for a second, deprived of another hand-hold, before it collapses onto the ledge and I wearily pull myself up. For a second, I don't even stand up. The climb has totally exhausted me. Yet the tracks continue, which suggests that not only did Brent make the climb with his hammer, he also went on his way again pretty quickly. Cursing myself for being so out of shape, I stagger to my feet and stumble along the tracks in a lumbering jog.




Up here, the ground is wetter and the footprints more prominent, allowing me to track at a greater speed. As I near the corner of the mountain, a sound floats into my ear on the wind. It's almost like someone grunting in exertion, except they sound desperate. Scared, even. Cautiously, I round the corner and see, strange Brent standing there, desperately pushing at a large boulder near to the edge of the cliff. Glancing up, he sees me.

"Thank the gods, you're here!" he gasps, "You have to help me!" Confused, I don't answer, simply wandering over to the edge, trying to see where the boulder will land. I gasp I realization as my gaze slips over the edge. Though the view is difficult to comprehend from above, I can see what appears to be the entrance to the catacombs, directly below us. The tomb seems strangely small and fragile. Then I realise - Brent is trying to seal them shut by knocking down the tomb that hides the entrance.

"Where's Melgon's father?" I ask, though I already know the answer. Brent looks at me, disgusted and spits on the ground.

"I got here just in time to hear someone screaming from in there. I very much doubt he is still alive." Solemnly, I nod and turn to Brent.

"Can I help?" He looks as surprised at my offer as I am, but nods gratefully.

"I won't be able to move it as it is, so I need you to hold it in place as I try and break off a little at the bottom." Not bothering to reply, I step up next to him and grip the rock firmly as he steps around the other side. Now he is balancing on a thin ledge between the boulder and the edge, barely a foot wide. Steadying himself against the gusts, he unhooks his hammer from his back and slowly draws it back. Then, in one swift motion, he swings down the weapon and smashes the flattened head into the rock. I'm not entirely sure what kind of rock this is, but it shatters a little under the blow, though not enough to get it rolling.

"Again," I say and brace my legs against the ground, knowing that I will have to hold the stone while he clambers back onto the safety of the mountain. As I settle into position, Brent takes another swing at the boulder with the sharp edge of his weapon and this time, huge sheets come off, while Brent's hammer is stuck fast. Desperately, he tries to tug it out while the boulder creeps towards him, tugging my arms so hard it feels as though they must tear soon under the strain.

"Leave it!" I gasp, "I can't hold it much longer!" Ignoring me, he continues to yank at it, until it finally comes free. Smiling, he returns it to its covering on his back, then turns to face me. The smile quickly drops. He is running out of foot space and the boulder is beginning to crush his leather boots. He is trapped, no longer bale to slip around the side of the rock.

"Climb over!" I bark, "It's your only way out!" Snapping to his senses, Brent clambers quickly onto the slowly rolling boulder, causing me to grimace as I take on the extra weight. Seeing the increased speed with which the rock slips towards the edge, he throws himself forwards, pushing off from the rock as it tumbles off the edge, taking a portion of the cliff side with it. I hear the crash of the tomb being decimated, but I don't see it. My eyes are fixed firmly on where Brent is now hanging from the cliff by one arm, beginning to lose his grip. The other arm hangs useless by his side, seemingly broken when he jumped straight into the side of the cliff. Though the mountain is still crumbling beneath me, I reach forwards and grab his arm, trying to take his weight. But with the huge weapon on his back and my energy spent from holding the rock in place, all I can do is stop him from dropping any further. Pulling Brent up is beyond my means. I lie down carefully as I feel the ground move slightly beneath me, trying to spread out my weight. It doesn't work. Under my chest, I can feel the turf of the cliff-edge breaking off. The two of us will fall if I don't do something. But there is nothing I can do. If I don't move, the cliff edge will fall and we will both be killed. If I do, then I have to release Brent and there is no way he can hold on with one arm. I look down at him, silently pleading for some kind of solution. But he has none.

"Please…don't let me fall," he pants and I shiver at the sound of his voice. The confidence and self-assurance has all been stripped away, leaving behind the voice of a man who knows he is facing his death. I shake my head, tears blurring my eyes.

"I…can't hold us both," I whisper, though it is so low I am unsure that he can hear it. He hears what I say next though.

"I'm sorry." His eyes widen for a fraction of a second before they disappear over the edge, my extended arm of help finally withdrawn. I scramble back from the edge, not wanting to see him land. I still hear it though. I hear his scream as his skeleton is pulverized beyond repair. I hear his wails of agony for what seems like days, but is really mere seconds. Eventually, they fade and are replaced by one last, rattling breath, deafening in the silence of death.




I sob uncontrollably. My mentor, my teacher, my friend…has gone. There is nothing here for me now. I know what I must do. Shakily, I force myself to climb back down the mountain, slipping on numerous occasions and cutting my arm open on a jagged rock. Eventually, I reach the bottom and stagger to the mix of rocks and blood that mark the spot where Brent fell. Snarling a little, I wipe the tears from my eyes and grab a large, flat stone from the pile of debris. I have a friend to bury.

Now, since no one has bothered to review this story, I guess I'll do so.

To begin with... Wow. This story is well told, with good descriptions and through story. I can actually figure out where the story is going without having to re-read lines.

Now, the story itself is... interesting. After a good introduction, one character dies, and soon afterward, another. Normally I'd stop reading at this point, but the story has me hanging, so I can't really leave it without knowing what happened next.

One last thing: My attention span is very short; I can't stand chapters as long as yours normally, but somehow I can now when I read your chapters. Weird.

Yay, a review. I was beginning to get worried. Thanks for taking the time to tell me your thoughts, though, it really means a lot. Character death...well, if I'm brutally honest, I never really had Melgon, or his father penned in as major characters, so the main character doesn't quite care so much about them. Brent's death was the one I wanted to focus on, really.

And I'll take the last remark as a compliment, so thanks ;)

Yeah, that last sentence was a complement.

It does make sense that Melgon and his father aren't main characters, since they weren't described in much detail.

Although I can't believe such a good story is already dying, with no new reviews. Maybe its because:

1) People don't read the fanfiction boards much

2) The Other Writing section is not very popular, since most people who read fics here are interested in Pokemon based fanfictions. They're missing out on a lot of good stories...

dying? Not just yet, my friend! The next chapter is nearing completion....maybe...

Lucky you~~ I read anything and everything, so yeah, when I see a wall of text, I say, "Bring it on!" xD Okay, I think it was very well-written, barely any grammar mistakes, but you need to use the semi-colon for a few things. It's good, very descriptive and interesting, keep up the good work!

Thanks for the review, every one I get is helpful! Semicolons? I hadn't noticed...which would explain why you had to point it out! I'll try to look out for where they're needed from now on. the next chapter should most likely be up this sort of time tomorrow, so stay tuned!

oh my god, that was corny

Wow, I'm sorry this is so hugely later than I said, my internet's been down...and I'm lazy....:P

Anyway........review, review, review!

As I stumble into the camp, the sun is drifting towards its peak above me. It should be blazing down and scorching the earth with its heat, but the clouds and mist have reduced it to a watery glow above us. Something is going on, but I can't tell what. Kemble and a few of the other tribesmen are sitting around the fire and as I stagger past, they look up. Apparently shocked, Kemble leaps to his feet.

"Where have you been?" he shouts, his voice a mix of concern and anger.
"Where is Tristram?" For a second, his question confuses me, then I realise that he is talking about Melgon's father.

"Gone," I whisper, my voice slipping out between my unmoving lips like a rebellious strand of smoke. By the fire, a woman collapses into wracking sobs. Looking up, I recognise her as Deirdre, Melgon's mother and Tristram's wife. She has lost a husband and a son. But she is not the only one to grieve.

"Where is Brent?" Kemble asks, ignorant of the truth that must surely be obvious to even the most foolish buffoon.

"Gone," I hiss once again, but this time, my face does not remain a frozen mask of unfeeling. Like a scab cracking off and revealing a festering wound beneath, my façade falls to pieces and my face contorts in grief and horror as I sink to the ground, overwhelmed by my loss. Almost involuntarily, my mind floats back to our last real conversation. Brent, telling me that I am not bound to the tribe as he is. I am free to leave. He encouraged me to leave. But I rebutted him; I told him that my life here was too important. Now, though, it seems I have no life here. My brother, my father, my teacher: all have been taken in one swift blow from fate. Perhaps there really is nothing left for me here. I snap out of my reverie as Kemble lays a comforting hand on my shoulder, guiding me back to the seats where the small crowd of mourners awaits, to welcome me into their grieving arms. Too tired and drained to resist, I slowly sink down to the floor and let the blissful ignorance of sleep wash over me.




Consciousness returns far too soon, and with it, memories of the day before. I look up, shivering, to be greeted only by the dying embers of a fire. The sun has set and the cold is setting in as I enter the tent that I share – shared – with Brent. I climb into my hammock and try to get back to sleep, but to no avail. For several hours I toss and turn, desperately keeping my back to his bed, in the childish hope that I will turn and he will be there, saying it was a dream, that he wasn't hurt, that all is forgiven and everything can be exactly how it was. I know this to be foolish, but it doesn't stop me. Then, a quiet voice comes drifting through the opening flap of the tent.

"Brent?" I whisper quietly, but the voice simply stops. After a second, it starts again. I can hear snatches of words, and try desperately to put them into some kind of order.

"Hurry…keep…down…they're armed…leave…heavy…" Unable to control my curiosity any longer, I lift my hammer, a cheap imitation of Brent's powerful weapon, and peek out through the gap. It is too dark to see clearly, but there are two distinct shapes. One of them is thin and lithe, a female, perhaps. There is a short spear in her left hand and what appears to be a loaf of bread in her right. The other person appears to have some kind of bag on their back, making their physique impossible to gauge. As they turn, however, I see the curved chest and realise that our tribe's food stores are being pillaged by two women. Barely able to contain my outrage, I throw open the tent flap and they spin around. I can see them more clearly now: the thinner one, holding the spear is pale, lean and red-haired – beautiful but clearly well trained in armed combat, as she quickly jabs out with her weapon. Allowing my anger to lend me strength, I swing my hammer and cleave the tip of the spear clean off. The two women are left holding half of our food and a broken stick. Breathing heavily, from anger, not exertion, I raise my weapon, pointing the spike on its tip directly at them.

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't call the entire camp down on you right now!" I spit and I notice that the words seem harsher than normal, more forceful and cruel. It scares me, the tinge of evil that has entered my voice and I lower the spiked hammer, lest the cruelty should spread from my mouth to my arm. The other woman, the one holding the sack, drops it at her feet and raises her hands.

"We don't want any trouble," she says in an almost cautionary tone. I spit on the ground.

"Trouble? If you don't want trouble, why are you stealing our food?" They glance at each other.

"We've been on the road for days, without food. The last time we ate was five days ago." I narrow my eyes at the red-head as she speaks, but she doesn't back down. As far as I can tell, she is telling the truth.

"You say you've been on the road, but where from and where are you heading? There's nothing but the open moors for miles in every direction." The shorter woman shakes her head, her black hair swinging in an arc behind her.

"That's not quite true. We've heard word of a tomb, hidden under this very mountain." My breath catches in my throat. "It is rumoured that a king was buried there, long ago, with all of his riches." I frown.

"Do you know anything else about this tomb?"

"Only that the force that guards it is invulnerable to all human weapons. It is an ancient evil, born of the king's lust for gold that prevented him from ever letting it go, even when he was dead. It's just a legend, though…" she catches my eye, "…isn't it?" I raise my weapon again.

"I have seen that tomb with my own eyes…Our tribe has lost two to that mysterious guardian in as many days." The two women gasp.

"Perhaps…this mission is just too dangerous," suggests the woman holding the bag.

"No. We've come this far, we can't give up now."

"But if we don't give up, we may well end up dead." The red-head smiles.

"Every job has its risks." She glances at me, "Could you show us where this tomb is?"

"Are you not listening? If you go in, you will not come out! Besides, the entrance has been destroyed."

"Then we will dig our way through! I will not ask you to enter the tomb with us, but could you at least show us the way?" I stare at them both, hoping they will back down. They don't.

"Fine. I will show you the entrance, then I will leave and you will not return to this camp. You will leave all the food that you were stealing here. And if we meet again, I will treat you as simply another raiding team, come to steal our food. I will not grant you mercy."

"I wouldn't expect it." I swing my hammer over my shoulder and turn, marching out of the camp at top speed. If we move quickly, I might just get back before the tribe rises.

"Wait!" I look round. "I'm Ingrid and this is Amma. I don't believe you mentioned your name." I shake my head, chuckling a little.

"My name? It doesn't matter. After all, you're going into that tomb, so you'll be dead within a few hours anyway."


Hmmmmm.....I didn't like this chapter very much myself. Your thoughts?

Hm... I liked this chapter, and there were no grammar mistakes to be found. So instead of correcting you, I'll go ahead and ask a few questions.

1) If the two women were so hungry that they would raid the tribe's food stores, then why did they leave the food there?

2) Why didn't they assault Mr. Main Character while he was giving his speech?

I think that's all for now.

Raibutai said:

Hm... I liked this chapter, and there were no grammar mistakes to be found. So instead of correcting you, I'll go ahead and ask a few questions.

1) If the two women were so hungry that they would raid the tribe's food stores, then why did they leave the food there?

2) Why didn't they assault Mr. Main Character while he was giving his speech?

I think that's all for now.

Click to expand...

I think the two questions can be answered together - he was holding a big-ass spiked hammer!

But yeah, I can see where you're coming from so thanks for the review!

Whoopee, I remebered to update! And in just under a month as well! I'm a speed demon! i should be rewarded with reviews!

WARNING: This chapter is rated PG-15 for one use of naughty language! It's blocked by the filter anyway, but whatever.
EDIT: okay, so it didn't block it. The word it did block, quite humourously, is "ch!nk", probably because it thought I meant a chinese person :P I didn't.



"If you think about it, it's quite fitting that you're going into a tomb to die, don't you think?" I call to the two women marching ahead. Ingrid gives me a look of disgust and almost trips over a protruding root. A gentleman would ask if she was alright. It's much funnier to just laugh, though. You may think that it's sick that I'm laughing at their impending doom, mere hours after my best friend has died. But that's the way of the tribe. Death is just another, albeit rather final, part of life.

"Is that it?" I look over to where Amma is shouting. A few broken pillars are poking out of a midden of rubble and debris.

"It would seem so," I reply, slowing to a stop as the two women start to dig through the rubble. I don't bother offering to help.

"So, what's your story anyway?" I ask, curious. So far, they have been dodging the question.

"Well, in here, there's a lot of money," Ingrid replies, as if speaking to a child, "And if you have a lot of money, you don't have to do a lot of work." I laugh.

"So you're treasure hunters, seeking an early retirement? Why are you working together, anyway? It's normally a very solitary career, if you can even call it that." Ingrid ignores me and Amma simply gives the short and unsatisfactory answer:

"We met on the road." Shaking my head, I decide to leave it be. Soon, the pair give a cry of joy and heave up one more slab of stone, revealing the tunnel that bores into the mountain. It is perfectly formed and the walls are paved and set with torches. Whoever made it was clearly skilled in their trade, but they had a morbid sense of style. Each of the enclaves is carved into the shape of a skull, clenching the unlit torches between their teeth. The women fiddle with a box of tinder and some flint for a minute or two, grinning when they are rewarded with a small flame that quickly grows as it covers the torch's head. Amma takes the torch and steps forward a little way into the cave. Ingrid glances back at me.

"Will you wait for us?" she calls and I start at her tone. The aggression is greatly diminished and there is a hint of desperation creeping in. She might be putting on a brave face, but I can tell that Ingrid knows that something is not right here. We can all feel it, but I'm the only one who acknowledges it. Slowly, I nod, not saying anything. Ingrid gives a grim smile and disappears into the cave after Amma. Letting out a long breath, I sit down, then jump up again as the sun glances off something all too familiar. Barely able to believe my luck, I pick my way over to the glinting metal under a slab of stone. Reaching under, my fingers brush the sharpened point and I grin. Stretching as far as I can I grab the tip and pull out Brent's hammer from its hiding place. I laugh in delight as I realise that apart from a slightly chipped handle, it is completely intact. Settling down again, I lay the weapon next to my own to compare them. It is no contest as for which is better and I casually throw my own hammer into the pile of debris, shouldering Brent's hammer. As I do, a faint scream trickles from the cave mouth. I look round instantly. I wasn't paying attention when I heard the shout, so I couldn't tell if it was a scream of terror or triumph. Then it comes again and I hear a few words.
"Please….help…" I sigh and slowly creep towards the tunnel, hardly believing that I am even considering taking such a risk for two complete strangers. The women have even taken the only torch, so I am forced to stumble about in the darkness, relying on the weak sunlight flowing down through the entrance. I almost walk into a wall in the darkness, cursing as I stub my toe before turning to my right. Left, right, right, left. The entire place is a giant maze. I doubt I could find my way out now without a hefty dose of luck. Something moves in the dark up ahead and I grip my new weapon tightly. A ***** in the wall provides some light, so I cling to it like a baby to its mother. The dark shape stops and I get the feeling that it is looking at me.

"What the hell do you want?" I hiss, unable to keep the tremor out of my voice. The shape recoils.

"My god, Ingrid, it can speak!" I blanch.

"Amma? Is that you?" The shape moves closer and some light falls across its face, revealing me to be correct. Another shape emerges from round the corner – Ingrid.

"We have to get out of here!" she whispers frantically, "We found….something. I don't know what. There was just this great big gust of wind and it blew out our torch. Then something grabbed my leg, I think with its teeth." I frown. The bite I would normally dismiss as a wild animal that got lost down here, but its timing straight after they lost their light can only point to the supernatural.

"Can you run?" I ask, suddenly aware of how urgently we needed to escape. Three people with one weapon vs. some supernatural monster that had probably adapted to life in the dark is hardly a fair fight. Ingrid shakes her head. I think.

"The best I can manage is a slow hobble." I growl.

"Fine. Amma, take this." I thrust the hammer into her hands, hoping that I haven't misplaced my trust. Turning to Ingrid, I grab her arms.

"What the hell are you doing!" she shouts, pulling back. I wince at the loud noise.

"I'll carry you. Don't argue!" I add as she starts to protest. "I don't care about your honour, we just have to get out of here as fast as possible!" begrudgingly, Ingrid slings her arms around my neck and climbs onto my back. I can feel blood soaking through my shirt from her leg where she was bitten. I turn to go and then I hear it. A low growl, rumbling through the tunnel. Another shape has appeared at the end of the tunnel. It's huge – something that resembles a head is brushing the ceiling which is several feet above our heads. The two women freeze.

"Oh," I gasp. "Shit."

Nothing beats a cliffhanger :D That's why you should review me.

Haha... Nice.

So Mr. Main Character's true nature is finally revealed! He's a greedy man who likes hammers..

But back on topic, I generally liked the chapter, and the cliffhanger. It leaves many questions to be asked, so I won't ask anything until the next chapter.

So, I updated in just under a month again. Thank god for bank holidays. XD oooh, some of the minor characters have returned for this week's episode as well :D

Anyway... GIVE REVIEWS OR FEEL MY WRATH



Our breath comes in short pants as we storm through the tunnels. I can feel the creature's breath on my neck, as powerful and as icy cold as a blizzard. I feel a twinge in the pit of my stomach and relying on literal gut instinct, I duck, almost stumbling under Ingrid's weight. Overhead, I hear and feel something lunge and snap at the empty air where my head was a moment earlier. You'd expect me to have terrified thoughts running through my head, but I'm too scared to even think. All that I know is to keep running until the monster catches me or I collapse from exhaustion.

"Look!" Amma shouts and I glance up. It's a light. A light. It's so hard to judge the distance that it could be the entrance, but very far away or a tiny gap in the wall, just an arms length away. But it is our only hope and we run for it desperately. I can feel the monster's breath weaken, as though we are pulling away. With a final burst, we reach the opening - a small hole, just about big enough to climb through. I dump Ingrid on the ground, much to her annoyance and turn to face the beast, emboldened by the light.

"You two get through," I whisper, "Say when it's clear." Amma scrambles through the gap at top speed, spinning around to help the injured Ingrid, who climbs rather more slowly. Unhooking Brent's hammer from my back, I hold it out, pointing the spiked tip at our foe. In the dim light, I catch small glimpses. A clump of thin, wiry hair. A clawed foot. A cluster of many small, black, glistening eyes. That must be how it sees us in this darkness. But by the window, even the weak sunlight must be torture. Inspired, I swing around and smash at the stone work with the hammer. A chunk breaks off and crumbles, widening the gap and letting more light through. Screeching, the beast retreats, staying hidden in the darkness. Finally, Ingrid is clear of the gap and I haul myself up and through, not wasting any time in escaping the creature. Outside, we stumble a little way away from the mountainside, then collapse on the ground, gasping for breath. The glistening dew drops seem brighter, the birdsong sweeter, the mountain less forbidding and more awe-inspiring. The cold light of day has banished our fears for now.



"Are we interrupting anything?" I scramble to my feet, shocked as the snide voice rings across the field. I spot the speaker immediately. Coalan, or 'Doctor Coalan' as he likes to be called, is the tallest man in out tribe and his huge hooked nose makes him resemble a flagpole, as well as making him look absolutely hideous.

"What do you want here, Coalan?" I ask, a cautionary tone in my voice.

"I want to know why you're alone in the middle of the wilderness with two helpless young ladies, one of whom seems to be injured. I know that you are grieving the loss of a friend, my dear boy, but ensnaring and seducing the local women against their will is not going to help…" I gasp as I realise what he's suggesting.

"I would never do that, Coalan. You've got this all wrong!" He sneers.

"Oh, I think it's pretty obvious what was going on here, boy." I turn to Ingrid and Amma.

"Tell him. Tell him the truth." They falter for a moment, then Ingrid slowly climbs to her feet.

"I'm so glad you came," she whispers in a high, breathless voice and I gasp, "I don't know what he would have done if you hadn't arrived. We were just travelling along, minding our own business, when suddenly, he jumped us, swinging that great huge weapon of his and threatening to kill us if we didn't do what he said." Great, fat tears roll down her cheeks as I gape at her in absolute shock.

"That's not true! I caught them stealing our food in the middle of the night!" Coalan bursts out laughing.

"You honestly expect me to believe that? Two unarmed women were robbing us and you just happened to come along and save the day? Your attempts at trickery make me glad that the others will be here soon."

"What others?" He smiles arrogantly, his oily skin glinting in the sunlight.

"Well, after you went missing in the middle of the night, several of your so-called 'friends' decided to come out and look for you, lest you do something stupid in grief. It seems that we are too late…" As if on cue, Biwon's head, looking disturbingly disembodied as it rises above the hedgerow against which Coalan is leaning. Seeing me, he gasps.

"Are you all right?" I open my mouth, but Coalan beats me to it.

"He's fine. Though I'm not sure that the same could be said for his two victims. This swine was attempting to force himself on these lovely ladies."

"He's lying! I wouldn't!" I yell, but Biwon is already shaking his head disgusted. Eyes narrowed, he marches over, shoving his face next to mine. As he does, his expression changes from outright disgust to a mixture of confusion and concern.

"Look," he whispers, "You have to go." I frown.

"What? Why?"

"I don't know who to believe right now," he raises a hand to silence my protests, "But Coalan has a way with words. If you stay, then he will make sure that the tribe finds you guilty of your crime. And I trust that you are aware of the suitable punishment?" I shake my head speechlessly.

"They make sure that you can never do anything like this again, regardless of consent! You see where I'm going?" Gulping, I nod, eyes wide.

"But…I have a life here. Where do I go? Will I ever return? How do I survive?" Biwon looks at me seriously.

"I don't know. But in about ten seconds, I'm going to punch out Coalan. Don't worry," he adds quickly as he sees my shocked expression, "I'm supposedly too 'unstable' to even be looking for you, so no-one's going to try and punish me. Not seriously, anyway. But I would rather never see you again than have you stay and suffer." He pauses for a moment, then smiles crookedly, "Time's up. Time to make a decision." Before I can respond, he swings around and smashes his fist into Coalman's giant nose with an audible crack. The doctor withes on the ground, eyes watering from pain, as blood drips from the fingers clapped over his face. I don't have time to savour the image, though. Turning, I run past the treacherous Ingrid and speed across the field, heading for a forest a league or two to the north. My life in the tribe is over. My life as an outlaw has begun.

GREAT ENDING TO THE CHAPTER.

Ingrid is really untrustworthy, isn't she... I think I have a new least favorite character! Either Ingrid or Coalan, both seem like *insert explicit word here*'s.

Anyways, your work seems to be error-free, and the presentation is great.

I have nothing to say...

Thanks for the review, they're always helpful :D

Wait...another chapter...already? Surely, this must be a joke?

I groan in annoyance as I finally reach the forest, panting for breath. It is thinner than I realised, meaning that I am less likely to find enough food or anywhere to sleep. However, the forest seems to spread a long way, meaning that I should be able to get well and truly lost in it before anyone from the tribe attempts to follow. For now, though, the temperature is dropping and I need to find somewhere fairly dry to sleep. It takes several hours of searching, but I eventually discover a small hill with a large enough overhang to sleep under. Having stuffed the hollow with dry leaves, I attempt to settle down. Although the sun is in fact just beginning to rise, I have spent a night being hunted underground, instead of sleeping. Nevertheless, I am unable to sleep, thanks to my growling stomach. Finally giving up, I crawl out of my impromptu base to gather a few apples from a nearby tree. I know that my stomach's going to be giving me hell in several hours, but for now, the fruit fills me up and I tiredly collapse back into my bed, eyes fluttering shut from exhaustion. Before I finally fall into the peace abyss of unconsciousness, Ingrid's face flashes before my eyes. I grit my teeth. That woman will pay for her treachery. Just give it some time…

The sun is low in the sky as I tumble out of my little alcove, awoken by terrifying dreams of dark passageways and hidden monstrosities. But the dreams are not the only thing that have woken me.

"This way! I've found his footprints!" I curse as I hear the sound of trackers closing in. I had counted on getting at least a day's head start, but it seems that Coalan has recovered quickly. Crouching low to the ground, I glance at the sun to get my bearings, then begin to jog quietly northwards, deeper into the forest and further from my pursuers. The voices don't fade away, though. If anything, they seem to be getting louder. The tribe is catching me up. I swear again. If I can't outrun them, I shall have to hide. But where do you hide in a flat wood with little undergrowth and several feet between trees? This forest barely deserves its title. The trees are too thin to hide behind and there are no thick bushes or dips on the land. In hindsight, my sleeping place was the best hiding spot available, but they would have tracked me right to it. With nowhere to hide, I have to keep running. And running. And running. My breath becomes more and more laboured, coming in quick, short pants as my feet pound along the ground beneath my feet. I can still hear shouts, though, and as I pause for breath, a howl rises into the air. Faolan, the only dog in the tribe, belonging to Kemble. I curse for a third time. People I stood a chance of escaping, but that dog has an almost supernatural sense of smell. My cause is as good as lost. Unless…straining my ears, a faint tinkle catches my attention. A river. Grinning, I splash through it noisily. No dog can track a man through running water. Hoisting myself out the other side, I start running once more, having finally reached a slope in the land. Desperately, I scramble over the top of the bank and drop into a hollow on the other side, just as the trackers come into view. I can hear Faolan growling softly, but nobody talks. It is almost unnerving. A small noise can be heard, a hollow clacking, like shoes on stone. My stomach drops as I remember the rocks bridging the stream. Coalan and the others are approaching stealthily from just over this dip. Gritting my teeth, I launch off again, but stumble as something small and hard stings the back of my knee. I spin to see the good doctor standing there, a snide grin on his face and a still swinging sling drooping from his right hand. His left holds a collection of small, round stones.

"You always did prefer to attack from behind," I spit childishly. I know that the game is up, so I may as well get in an immature insult while I still can. Coalan simply raises an eyebrow as several other men, similarly armed, pop up over the hill. Faolan lopes up too, his teeth bared in a primal snarl.

"Now, are you going to come home quietly, or do we have to subdue you first?" Coalan asks in a sing-song voice, clearly loving every minute of this. I hang my head, wearily.

"I'll be peaceful as long as you are," I growl and he smiles, pointing back the way we have come.

"Time to get going, then. You really shouldn't have some so far out. In the end…its just more work for you." I ignore him, looking at the other hunters. Men who just hours ago were my friends, now my captors because of some stupid, childish lies. Feigning submission, I bow my head as Coalan produces a length of rope. Begrudgingly, I hold out my hands and Coalan steps forwards to bind them. He smirks at me and something snaps. Howling like a mad man, I bring both fists up into his jaw, charging forwards and barging him with my shoulder. Stumbling, he steps back, right off the hillside. His legs fly up comically and the doctor rolls head over heels down the hill, landing in the stream at the bottom with a splash. Retribution comes swiftly and painfully. Faolan leaps, teeth biting into my arm and as one of the men pulls him off, another whips his sling through the air, the stone cracking me in the side of the head. I stagger as more missiles fly my way, hitting me in the legs, feet and head. Finally, one clips my temple and a wave of nausea rushes over me. The world quickly fades to black as consciousness departs.

Woah i can't believe i haven't been reading this, i'm glad i came acroos this :)

Your narration is very good and the characters are awesome btw why no name for the protagonist..? :) and i love your story!

Curse that girl and that Doc, it's good that he threw him that way :D

I know i'm repeating a cliche dialouge but anyway i mean it.

Sad even after 600+ views very few people have commented on this thread, well anyway i like your work keep it up waiting for your next update :)