Weapon of Choice.

[Arclite]

Just me again, for those of you who don't know me, i'm Tommy/Arclite, resident geophysicist-in-training whose university doesn't allow me to spend anytime in Darkfall, just yet.

In addition to this, i'm a bit of an amateur -emphasis on the word amateur- writer and a serial never-finsher and my noodle has once again again being invaded by a nice little idea for a story, inspired by the troubles the clan is currently facing.

Anywhom, for those of you are interested, my other stories will get finished, i just can't devote any time to writing really large sections at the moment, so probably in the holidays in a month or so, when i get my graduation on.

Without further ado.

[Arclite]

Arclite tried to move himself up from his low lying bed, when he was instantly greeted by the familiar pain in his right leg, it had been present for over 2 months now, dogging him everywhere he went, it was a painful reminder of his own foolhardiness and youth, his thoughts drifted to how he sustained his injury.

It had been a seemingly normal hunting expedition, several miners from the Mirdain Alfar border had reported sightings of their most hated foe, making raids deep into Mirendil, so young Lord Dorundain had sent two of his most proven scouts, Arclite and Silver-Amil to report on the supposed sightings, they had gathered little information from the locals, who, over the course of recent months grown to distrust the Oromean people, much to Arclites bewilderment, they were about to return back home, when a scream pierced the cool autumn air. Arclite had arrived first on the scene, he had found three Alfar terrorizing a group of miners, who equipped only with their required tools, were no match for the trained warriors, Arclite had raised his yew bow and struck the Alfar on the left squarely in the chest at the same moment as Silver-Amil had hit the far right Alfar in the same fashion, killing them both instantly. The final Alfar had reacted quickly, sending a bright red spell straight towards the two men, Arclite tried to move his frame out of the way but was struck in the leg, instantly paralyzing him, although the Alfar victory was short lived as Silver let a second arrow fly.

Ever since that moment Arclite had been ordered home by Dorundain, who insisted Arclite rested while the wise men of the Oromea searched for a cure to his ailment, his leg had lost tone and Arclite had began to feel restless. They had only recently acquired the necessary ingredients to lift the curse from him and had promised to have it ready within the week. Still, Arclite grew more restless, not only for his injury.

[Lorak]

Arclite,
I know its late, But I did always enjoy your stories. look forward to reading more. :cheers:

[Silver-Amil]

Yay, I like your stories, as long as I'm mentioned that is, höhö .

[Arclite]

I thought about killing you off within the first 2 lines, but then i decided against it, i thought being run off a cliff by 1000 naked women was more your style.

[Avienda]

Lmao, totally, needs to be done.
I may even steal that idea.