Genre: Fantasy
About Nikolai GeierLocation: Corvallis, Oregon Home Region: Age:25 Favorite novels: The Ender books, Betrayal at Falador Favorite writers: T. S. Church Favorite music: http://www.dennyschneidemesser.com. Seriously, listen to it. He's got some really good music up there. Non-noveling interests: Dungeons and Dragons, cartooning |
Joined: June 27, 2009 This Year: Official Participant NaNoWriMo History: NaNoWriMo posts: 41 NaNoWriMo buddies: 0
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Excerpt: Ancient Memories
Yenklet saw the red robed figure long before the Zamorakian saw him. He quickly got down, using his knowledge of the Wilderness to easily evade the man. When the man's back was turned, he struck. He murmured a spell that froze the man. Then he ran out from hiding and held his staff at the man's throat. “One move, and we find out how easily blood boils.”
The man, still held by the spell, said nothing, though he looked alarmed.
“Now, you'll take me to your camp right now. Do not try to scream for help.” Yenklet ended the spell.
The Zamorakian was not a brave man. He nodded, and led the man onwards.
Ten minutes later, they had arrived. Yenklet lowered the staff, and the man struck. He drew his dagger and leaps at Yenklet, shouting a Zamorakian warcry. With a shout of anger, Yenklet clubbed the man over the head. The man crumpled to the ground, but Yenklet knew it was too late. The other Zamorakians, having heard the commotion, had managed to surround him. Yenklet knew he had no choice. He pulled out his Zamorakian symbol. “I am Yenklet, top agent of Zamorak!” He shouted. “Take me to Lord Sermin or face the consequences!”
Stelpur was about to decide to try to follow Yenklet when the mage appeared from the fog. “Alright, the road ahead is safe. Come quickly!” He said.
Stelpur sighed with relief. “Thank Saradomin.” He said. “We were worried something had—are you alright?” He noticed a nasty gash on Yenklet's arm.
Yenklet shook his head. “It's nothing, a giant rat surprised me. Come on!”
Stelpur and Tom followed their guide, Stelpur feeling wary. Suddenly he felt Tom stiffen next to him. “Tom, what--”
Tom raised his crossbow, which Stelpur realized he had drawn without Yenklet or he noticing. The former barkeep fired, and Stelpur saw a red robed man fall out of the tree. The man fell, his longbow falling out of his hands. Then Tom turned the bow on Yenklet.
“Tom! What are you doing?” Stelpur asked, drawing his sword. Yenklet, however, did not seem surprised, or even worried. Tom's fingers tightened on the trigger—
–and then went slack as an arrow whizzed through the air and hit him. Tom fell to the ground. Yenklet turned, shaking his head at Stelpur. “Put away your sword, Saradominist. You are surrounded.”
Stelpur did not take long to make sense of it all. “You tricked us!” He shouted, drawing back his sword to strike down the traitor. Then he felt something pierce his shoulder. An arrow. Burning like fire. Poison...
Stelpur lost consciousness.


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