Stariji Radovi (Engleski)

Evo ponovno postam svoje stvarno stare (ali sada tek shvaćam kolikog potencijala za širenje) radove od kojih je jedan napisan za Oblivion mod. Stariji članovi sa Sovinjaka će se možda sjetiti nekog od navedenih, a za vas nove slobodno pročitajte i ocijenite. btw. iznad svih citata sam ponudio i link na Docs lokaciju za vas koji ne volite čitati s foruma.

Valenwood Teaser

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Valenwood Teaser

In the forests of Valenwood lies a city, a noble city. Once it was a site where the 1st King of Arenthia came from, thus it became known as the "City of Kings". That time is long gone and the city itself has become decadent and corrupt under the Imperial boot. Borders between rich and the poor are now more visible then ever; Imperial aristocrats in their lavish residences have but completely Imperialized the city while it's natives now flee to Gardens of Arenthia, a seedy and forbidding part of the city in hope of finding some freedom.... and to plot revenge against these usurpers.

The conflicts between these two factions rage even to this day, and with the recent rumors of Y'ffre's return along with Precursor's mysterious warnings, people are constantly on the edge. City elders only hope that this doesn't escalate to a complete civil war as time goes on. But it would seem that they have no power to end this stalemate and can only hope a champion will rise and lend them his aid in this grim hour...

The City of Kings is a place of great importance and you'll have plenty of opportunities to make a name for yourself when you reach it, be it with the aristocrats in power or with the tradition-clinging natives. You can shape the fate of an entire city, and with it affect the balance of power in Valenwood itself.

Do you think you're up to the task of taming the land?

~Arbiter

CHAPTER TRILOGY - Sneak 1

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CHAPTER TRILOGY - Sneak 1
by Arbiter of Change/Arbiter

I remember it all, for to forget would be the greatest heresy and betrayal of our greatest Primal Law.... and also willingly ignoring information about our enemy, now turned into unlikely ally. Until we see it fit to rectify the mistake called history, we may pretend and play along the schemes of our Avus, but we will never forget nor forgive.....

Beautiful banners that danced with the wind, birds on the field of battle seeking their share of rotten flesh, grass tall as now corrupt and overgrown statues of ancient warlords.... all of that is now forgotten and belongs to the past. Armies of men fought each other, vying for power and prestige, never satisfied with what they had, always thirsting for more.... how predictable. Their predictability was their greatest weakness, and my kind has always been ready to strike directly at the enemy's heart just like the hunter chases and unavoidably kills his prey. But what to do when the hunter becomes the hunted? When prey reveals fangs of it's own, fangs that thirst for blood?

A clash of titans. When pride and arrogance take over there is no room for wise councils and charity or kindness. The beast within wants to kill, to destroy, to win.... at all costs. Cities fell in those bloody days, cities betrayed by their very lords and their confidants. Thousands were slain.... they were the lucky ones, for some were taken to be used for some darker and more sinister purposes. It was not until much later down the stream of time that we discovered why they were taken, were they were taken, and what purposes they were given. But in those dark times our thoughts and will were focused on saving ourselves and our own progeny from our former cattle, now turned against us in war that lasted for better part of two decades. War in which they were slowly but steadily winning.

For many nights did our Avus leaders ponder on our possible actions, and the consequences that may be the result. They understood that some sacrifices were necessary to make the wheels of the war-machine turn, but parting with our isolated and over-sea Covenants was not an option which they took lightly. What was the actual meaning of that? They, no we, left our allies and our own blood, alone and defenseless like pebbles on the bottom of powerful river. They were swept off the board known as battlefield in matter of weeks, falling as easy game to our enemy's cursed Sanguari Legions. Our watchers informed us that they died shouting our names and forsaking us to bitter and bloody end. They had every reason to hate us.

You will have to forgive me for my memory already begins to betray me, starts to plot against like a degenerate but power-hungry apprentice who plans to strike his master. The present itself has it's fair share of dangers as it is. And the future?

I dare not think about it.

CHAPTER TRILOGY - Sneak 2

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CHAPTER TRILOGY - Sneak 2
by Arbiter of Change/Arbiter

As arrows and fire flew around him, Aryon was already screaming his incantation in a language now cultivated only by Oroburos Ordo and forgotten by all others. Power was starting to manifest around him, tension building in the air and suddenly his hands were engulfed with unnatural force made to pierce even the thickest armor worn of the Walkers that towered over the battlefield like Titans of old. Grin that was on Aryon's face just a moment ago now turned from confusion to flat-out horror; something was wrong with his spell. Just as it appeared the Arcane energy was now growing stronger in magnitude by the second, as if his body was too weak a weasel to hold such an overwhelming power. Forks of lighting burst from his fingers and jumped around the battlefield as he stood in shock and every hair on his dirty and gritty body was electrically charged. His eyes couldn't believe what was happening.

"This is clearly some kind of side-effect... but caused by what?" Aryon wondered with haste."The incantation was right down to the last letter and there was no mistake in it's saying either. It must be affected by something present here on the battlefield, there's no other possible explanation."

Aryon turned and looked around; chaos for as long as his eyes could reach. Dead men lying around, some burned, some slashed and some even gnawed. There were very few enemy corpses if any at all; something that wasn't a good sign. Sanguari Knights in their scarlet Stilleto armor armed with long pikes and powerful swords with were progressing according to plan and were pushing the enemy off the bridge ("or at least holding them on the other side it seems"), Walkers (two of them... all that Partum Ordo could muster on such a short notice) barricaded themselves on the bridge acting as animated fortresses along with their controllers in the back row weaving their master magic to improve golem's performance. Aryon also saw his fellow Ordo brothers drawing seals in the air in front of them which were followed by sudden bursts of magic that flew in ridiculus arcs towards the enemy across the bridge and river. As he turned his eyes to the enemy he saw it; the Dampener. "You fool! How couldn't you see it earlier?" he thought in disgust. This kind of tactical mistake was not excusable for one of his rank, especially when lives of others depended on his ("miscalculated") decisions.

There was no time to lose, but one piece wouldn't fit into this puzzle; why was just he disabled in this fashion? His brothers controlled their innate powers with unmatched skill and showed no signs of fatigue. "Is this a direct attack on me and my mind? Is someone trying to undermine my ability to lead? No, this is no place nor the time for such questions." Aryon finally concluded. "There will be ample of opportunities to think about this later after the enemy is pushed back". He ran over to nearest rock formation, avoiding wayward spells and arrows along the way, to use it as cover. More determined than he remembered in a long time, Aryon turned to members of Oroburos.
"Brothers!"
As soon they realized who it was that called them, each and every one of them darted to his direction and finally facing him there. Her glanced over their faces; will of steel and inner fire, cultivated by Dragon's careful training, filled their hearts and minds. No, they would not fail him.
"Listen to me! Sanguari and Partuians can hold this bridge on their own ("at least for a while that is"), I need your assistance with another matter. Do you see that Dampener over the river, near the stockades?" He pointed with his right hand. "I need you to destroy it and do so with great haste.

And now they saw it; standing 10 feet tall the Dampener was a horrible thing made by craft long outlawed by most of the magic wielding communities across the known world. Of course, not that it mattered; this was war. Someone would call it a tower, but it was more than that. The Dampener was a living symbiotic tower that operates on quite basic principles of Synergic-Wizardry... reinforced with vilest kinds of sorcery. The Tower acted as magical devourer, a siphoning entity that sucked and consumed Arcane energy in it's vicinity, thus weakening enemies around it. Combination of natural materials, such as granite and wood that made his upper (which was also the protective part) section was merged with synergic-flesh that made his lower part (which servers as mobile section). The final aberration was a thing that resembled a tower that was moved by four thick and massive legs with one small, insignificant crystal somewhere in it's upper chamber, probably guarded. It was a sight to behold and one had to admire it's makers and their great endeavour.

Too bad it was going down.

Oroburos brothers nodded in sign of acceptance and rushed of to topple it. Aryon waited for a split second to gather his inner strength and he felt his muscles flexing underneath his chestplate and the robes that were thrown over it, robes with Dragon's insignia over them. Once again he had that familiar grin on his face.... this was something they couldn't take away from him. Picking up his saber he jumped over the rock and rushed to follow his kinsman into the fray.

još da na engleski čitam...


BTW ćemu ovo služi: http://docs.google.com/View?docid=dgnv9q59_12htd83b ?

E hebo vas nepismene...
Na šta misliš?

Daj reci.. fakat ne kužim zašto stavljaš radove preko tog sranja, to je i Morgoth radio... fakat ne kužim ćemu to služi!?

Zato da ih ne moram držati na hardu i paziti da mi se ne pogube, da im mogu stalno pristupiti, lakše se čita nego sa foruma (kad se navikneš)... da nastavim? Ne vidim zašto ti je to sranje (žalim šta nisam stavio neke stvari sa Sovinjaka)?

.....u nadi da će netko pročitati....

Tako ti svi mogu "ukrast" priču. i puno je bolje držat na hardu... sa neta mogu nestat, izbrisat se, propast stranica...

U yeah, moje će krasti priče.

A što loše pišeš... e odgovori na ovo.

Meni se gad esve priče forumaša jer su neozbiljni. Pišu žargonom, govorm ulice. Glavni motiv je piva ili kako oni zovu bira...

onda kad žele napisat da nekog treba ubit neće reći ubio sam ga, već prosuo sam mu facu...

Sada me zanim jel' i ti pišeš tako?

Kalma je napisao/la:

A što loše pišeš... e odgovori na ovo.

Meni se gad esve priče forumaša jer su neozbiljni. Pišu žargonom, govorm ulice. Glavni motiv je piva ili kako oni zovu bira...

onda kad žele napisat da nekog treba ubit neće reći ubio sam ga, već prosuo sam mu facu...

Sada me zanim jel' i ti pišeš tako?

Ma šta loše? Ćuti da te ne dohvatim preko monitora, e.
A čovječe - pročitaj pa prosudi. Ali ja mislim da ne.

O da... a što je ovo: "Onaj tip vani ima Scorpiona, a ja imam kitu"

jebaga cuk neda mi se prevoditi

Ja imam umjetničku slobodu, bar sam imao kad sam zadnji put pogledao. Ako se nekome ne sviđa ne mora čitati - bilo tko tko piše se ne mora nikome pravdati (uostalom, ja sam rekao da MISLIM kako ne pišem tako, premda ja uopće ne razmišljam o tim trivijalnim stvarima dok pišem. Previše parametara ograničava kreativnost) o onome što je napisao (ovo nije bilo napadački napisano, ako tako zvuči).

ah ti umjetnici

Ma sve ludo.

meni je ustvari draže kad netko piše žargonom, osim ako piše nekim koji je cijelu hrvatsku udaljen od mene. osobno ide mi na živce kad neko mijenja rod imenice. još bih shvatio da smo nijemci pa da imamo die das der, ali ovo...