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| Tweet Topic Started: May 8 2012, 08:37 PM (114 Views) | |
| Lord Talancir D'Landior | May 8 2012, 08:37 PM Post #1 |
~ RP Knight ~
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Here's the game. With a prompt, I put fingers to keyboard and I write a scene. they will not be connected to each other and they will not go on any further than they have to. the prompt is to be simple; a stated time and place, fictional or non fictional. the prompt can even be a picture. The idea is for me to craft the scene according to how my imagination gives life to the prompt... with some discretion, of course. let's begin.
The clouds were gathering in force, blotting out the sun above us. A mixed blessing; Apollo's chariot wouldn't give us to thirst and sweat, but his guidance would sorely be needed today. Under him, the Persian arrows rained down on us, streaking black against the blue sky above me like Harpies. "ΑΝΑΛΑΒΕ! IP’EK BELEON-EXO VELOUS!" our commander screamed, and we raised our shields against the deadly rain as we echoed his command. The sarissas still suspended above us deflected some of the shafts, but others darted in among them to strike among us. "ΑΝΑΛΑΒΕ! ΑΝΑΛΑΒΕ!" Get those damned shields up! The arrows pattered against our shields, and I was reminded of the torrents of rain which fell among my village back home. Demetrios wasn't fast enough, for a Persian arrow pierced his shoulder before his shield was fully raised, and he fell backward against me, shrieking. I shoved him off me with my spear arm, and leapt forward to take his place in the rank. The others behind me moved up in rank, and stood over the injured Demetrios. As ever, Iakchos was the first to condemn Demetrios. "Damned fool! Get to the back ranks!" Humbled and mewling, Demetrios slunk under the shields to the rear. And then, like the calming of a storm, the arrows were gone, replaced by a distant rumbling. At the horizon ahead, a brown cloud had formed; beneath it, the locusts of Persia, the army of Great King Darius III, stormed onward like a great wave of Poseidon over land, toward our phalanxes. I was in the third rank. "Filaxis!" As we echoed the command, we brought the shields down, some bristling with impaled arrows, down to our front. "Kathes ta thorata!" We echoed the command, and brought down our sarissas, 6 meter long splinters of death, parallel to the ground. "PROAYETE!" I inhaled a deep breath, and then we were away, the entire phalanx moving as one, with small and rhythmic steps, toward our destiny. I was overcome with emotion. I had survived the Sieges of Tyre and Gaza, and now we were facing the Persians once more, on this barren plain of Gaugamela. In spite of myself, and knowing the discipline I would endure later should I survive the battle, I shouted my own battlecry, one that I knew would echo with my Cypriot brothers. "ZEYS,SOTIR,NIKH!" Zeus, Savior, Victory! |
 RP Aid: So, you want to be a storyteller? A must read for any Storyteller who wants to be better at his craft. RP Aid: Combat: A Comprehensive Guide to Beating Arse By the way, I'm on skype. Search for talancir. Millstone of Time Resources
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