Fiction By Tristan Cody // 12/7/2010

Now this is an unedited draft of the first chapter of my book Antrium: REDEMPTION.


Chapter 1: WolfBlade…

                Erik pressed his back against the base of the tall tower. Water beneath him with a thick fog looming about in the midnight air and a forty story climb above of him. He looked up and saw a window that was cut out of the stone wall, turning around to feel the cold wall press up against his chest. He pulled out a knife from his waist and stuck it firmly in the tower’s side. After taking a moment to let out a deep breath, he grabbed the knife and lifted himself up; placing his unoccupied fingers in between the wide gaps between each brick. Pulling his knife from the wall he plunged it a foot above him and repeated himself. Finally he swung side to side until he was making a half-moon shape with his swinging body. He waited till he was completely on his side before letting go of the dagger and spinning onto the window ledge. He knelt down on the window ledge and reached for his knife, pulling it out of the tower sheathed the steel weapon. A pale grey room greeted him as he hopped off the window seal and straight into a darkened room with only a single chair in the corner. A small strip of light emerged from beneath the door way. It was firelight and Erik knew that guards were standing by it; taking its warmth to numb the deadly chill of this watery prison. Slowly Erik approached the light and saw the door knob. Putting his hood up, Erik grabbed the knob and slowly twisted it. The musky air filled his lungs as the door squeaked opened. No guards. “What the..?” Erik thought.

                The empty room was circular and did indeed have a fire roaring in the center. A staircase was to the left and spiraled up towards the sky. Suddenly the tranquil room was filled with clattering and hard thuds as four large men came from above. They landed with ease on their large bare feet; they had axes that were crudely sharpened and black tattered pants on. A dark beat up silver shoulder armor fitted each one of their shoulders and black paint sprawled all over their faces gave the feeling of fear to almost all their enemies.

Erik looked side to side and saw each of the men. Four in total, all armed, all obviously known for brawn not brains, and all ready to kill. Erik did what he always does in a situation like this; he smirked. They closed in on him and he bowed his head, closing his eyes. Waiting for the scream of his enemy. Silence filled the room except for the occasional crackle from the fire. The first man charged.

Erik unsheathed his katana from his back; in the process placing a diagonal slash to the charging foe. Turning the upper half of his body he placed a side cut to another’s chest. Holding the blade backwards he plunged it deep into the third’s stomach. All that was left was the fourth and Erik kept his ground. The fourth held his axe high and Erik swung his arm over the man and grappled him to where his head was facing straight up to the ceiling with Erik’s tight grip holding him like a constrictor. With the man’s body facing up, Erik pivoted his katana into his adversary and pulled it out. Letting the man drop to the floor, lifeless and cold.

The clinking of chains filled the air as three separate chains fell from the top floor. More men sliding on them. Soon to be upon Erik. The thunder of heavy foot falls pounded as even more men came running down the staircase.

“Too easy…” Whispered Erik. The men dropped from the chains; dressed like the first four, they were holding curved swords and heavy shields. With his stained blade in hand he readied himself for this fight. “Six? This should be easy…” He taunted towards the men.

They groaned in rage, raising their weapons high to strike.

Erik  ducked low sliding his sharp katana across the thighs of an adversary. Coming back up he slit the one straight in head of him with a long gash to the stomach. Turning around, he grabbed the wooden handle of the axe in a man’s hand and pulled him forward, with only a few inches between him and Erik; he stop his breathing by pivoting his blade through the man’s chest.  As the man let go of his weapon and fell to the floor, Erik swung the heavy axe into an enemies torso and kicked him back.  His heavy body crashing against the stone floor. Quickly he sheathed his katana and turned around to the two remaining opponents. 

Placing his feet at shoulder width and placing his arms out, ready to fight, “Ready?” He mocked.

The first man ran in a fiery rage as he raised his broadsword up high in the air. Erik stood still until the man started to lower his weapon upon him; then he took his forearm and slammed it against the swordsman arm to knock the blade aside. Elbowing his chest the man staggered back and Erik grappled the man such as he did to the man in the first group. Face up and bent backwards. Erik slammed his fist in his foes abdomen and he fell with a thunderous crash to the hard floor.

Erik straightened his posture as the single man quivered in his armor. “Want to give up?” Erik asked.

The scared man ran at him with a meek charge and Erik lifted his leg high, sweeping it through the air and landing his foot right between the shoulder of the man. In a second Erik crippled him with a furious push from his leg. And the man joined his fellow men on the floor.

Erik looked above and saw at least forty men with bow and arrows; they drew them back and let them fly. A complete hailstorm of wooden projectiles hurdled towards him and Erik responded quickly. Sprinting to the stair case he leapt and landed onto the stairs as the arrows just missed him by a hair. He rolled over and placed his feet against the wall, shooting himself off and across the room to the next layer of stairs. Gracefully he stuck the landing and raised his head to see the armed killers rushing towards him.

“You would think they would have learned by now?” He said, unsheathing his katana.

The men were on the next flight of stairs and Erik could hear their calls of anger. They met him  and it was no surprise that Erik easily dispatched them. He slashed across the first, down the second, and twirled around to unleash a spinning slash to the third, making sure to lower himself and cause severe damage to the upper body. He watched as an arrow grazed his face and stuck into the wall. He glanced to his left and saw three archers on the third flight of stairs. Running at full speed he curved the stairs and they were in front of him. An archer was launched at him and he parried it. Leaping into the air he pressed one foot against the wall and the other against the archer’s back, knocking the archer off the stairs and making him fall down to the first level. Again he pressed against the wall and onto another’s back and repeated it again until there were no more archers in his path. As he pressed against the wall he leapt into the open space and grabbed onto one of the chains that were still hanging from the ceiling.  He swung through the air and let go, flying to the fourth set of stone stairs. He looked around and saw that no men were around. Making his sprint up thirty stories, he started to get tired.

Finally he started to see some more opponents running down the last six flights of stairs. Erik slowed his pace to a walk and sheathed his sword. He only made it one level higher when two men came rushing down the stairs.

The man came within inches of him when Erik pulled his dagger out and ran it up his foe’s body. Grabbing him by the neck, Erik threw him over th edge and watched as he fell to his doom.

The last adversary glared at him with piercing eyes, drawing two blades from his back.

“Finally, a challenge.”

Erik charged. Swinging one leg high up and around the neck of his opponent. He clung on with the other and pulled back, crashing not only him but his opponent onto the ground. Moving his legs, he pushed him off the edge and the dual sword foe joined his fellows.

“Never mind,” he said, in a disappointed tone as he got back up on his feet.

Finally he made his way to the final floor.

The room was a half moon, completely open and a pillar in the center of the moon shape. The pillar was stone just like everything else and on top of it was a beautiful artifact. A black jewel surrounded by golden lace. Erik picked it up and felt it, the runes in the gold were a sight to behold. Underneath his cloak was a tan sack that he opened and slid the artifact into. Tying it to his waist; he turned around.

“Again?”  Erik’s face grew grim.

Yet again twenty more soldiers stood in his way.

“The Amulet?” Demanded one of the guards, placing his hand out to receive it.

“Maybe later.” Erik rushed at them and leapt far above them, falling down into the tower’s center and grabbing onto one of the chains. He slid down at least twenty stories before pulling back with his body and then pushing forward. Propelling himself straight ahead and towards a wooden door on the fifteenth story. Crashing through the door it soared into the room and shattered against the lower wall. There was a large window and Erik, still sliding, flew through the window and out to the cold midnight air.

A large bridge was beneath him. Fire lit to light the darkened path. For a moment he hovered in the air; His heart pounding out of his chest. “Now, I show them what I can really do.” He thought as he began his descent towards the solid ground.

The men from the tower flooded to the bridge and aimed their bows up and let out a volley at Erik. He could hear the laughter of the men as the wooden arrows flew through the night.  The volley was impregnable for anyone, a wall of death with no mercy. Erik was not just anyone though.

He spun his body sideways and the entire wall just missed his body. A small cut on his arm was all the damage their futile efforts caused. Correcting himself, Erik now spun feet first; ten stories in the air towards the lead archer.

The archer tried to run away but he was not fast enough. Erik slammed into the man’s back and they slid a good ten feet before a fiery explosion emerged from the bridge and the bridge collapsed with Erik still on it!

He fell with the large ruble and tried leaping from piece to piece but his luck ran out. A falling piece of debris pinned him and he went crashing into the water below.



Tristan? it's me Nathaniel. I

Tristan? it's me Nathaniel. I can't believe I found you on here! How's it been. Makayla's been a graet dog, though she can be a bit...oh what's the word i'm looking for? Anyway, this is great.  It reminded me of The Prince of Persia. 

I am Nate-Dude | Wed, 12/29/2010



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