Since I am terrible at posting actual events, I have resigned myself to posting my scribbles and scribes-works;
Prologue
A cold rain is falling harshly on the once dry, and dusty road. A hooded figure bearing a small wet bundle walks up the flooded pathway to a large set of double-doors, and sets the bundle down on the paved front steps of the Blood-War age building.
The bundle wakes, and starts to cry. The hooded figure turns her face upward, Silver moons for eyes, then gets up, and sinks into the dark of night.
1
Another high pitched whistle sounds in the darkness.
Crash. BOOM.
Rocks and other debris soars through the air, much of it coming down as a fine dust. In the distance, I hear men calling, searching for my soldiers. A scream tears apart the night. I hear gun-fire to both my right and left. As the sound gets closer, I check my own firearms. Three bullets. I re-holster my gun.
I am safe, for the moment, hidden under a totaled War Tank, the wires dripping around and on top of me, oil landing on the lace of my dress. Tearing off one of my petticoats, I bind my leg above the knee, and try to patch the gaping hole that is oozing blood in my calf.
While climbing the Barracks of the N.E.C. base camp, a guard came up from behind and shoved his spear deep into my flesh. Terrance had tried to stop him, but was hit over the head, and dragged away. I fought the assailant, kicking, biting, and scratching, and by some miracle, was able to escape into the chaos of the battle.
Terrance....
They didn't kill him immediately, so obviously he is of some use.
But that also means they'll torture him!
The stench of gun powder, oil, and smoke filled the air and sat in one's nostrils and lungs, refusing to vacate.
From the other side of the Tank, I hear gravel crunch ever so softly. I draw my gun, and cock the trigger. A shadow dances in and out of vision. Then, a looming and immense figure is standing there, smog swirling around him. He reaches down, and begins to search with his hands.
For me!
I slide farther under the Tank.
“Silvia, is that you?” It was a strong voice with a heavy rolling accent. I sighed with relief.
“Abdalla!” I carefully pulled myself from under the Tank. The tall dark-skinned Troll descendant stood at his full seven foot height, large muscular arms folded across his (Now bare) chest, his large white teeth almost glowing under the full moon.
“Aye, sweet. How are you doing? We been looking for you!” he glanced at my leg and his already large eyes became larger.
“Sweet, where you been?” he looked around, and after helping me to my feet and supporting me with one arm, said “And where is the General?”
I looked up at him, my brown eyes wide.
“Gone.”
~*~
“What is the location of your base?”
I grinned.
“Classified.” the Interrogation officer grimaced, and flexed his fingers inside his glove.
He turned slightly, then swung back around, bringing with him a forceful punch. I sat straight and tall, my hands bound, and armed guard on both sides. The impact of the blow made me want to wretch, and I swallowed quickly to ease the tension on my throat. Hot red liquid ran down my jaw and neck, staining my shirt. The officer his cracked knuckles, and began to circle me. We had been at this for at least two hours now, not long, really, but I had never exactly been through an interrogation.
“Every man has his price, Terrance Wilmington. And since yours is not gold or status, we must find..... Other means.” He grabbed a large hank of my hair, and yanked me backward, hard. He leaned close.
“We know about your little Street-rat lover; we have troops out looking for her, and we will find her--What's her name?” A fierce heat rose to my cheeks.
“Is it.... Silvia?”
I kicked my leg up over my head, and hit the officer right in the nose. He yelped loudly, and barked out orders to have my feet bound. I let a smirk take up residence on my face.
“Well, good luck with that.... She's much more capable then you would assume. I bet that she's already back at camp, drinking and laughing, and hopefully planning my rescue.” I paused, “Wait, that makes me sound like a Damsel in Distress-- Completely lacking in any sense of manliness.” I shook my head, “Damn.”
The officer was cradling his face and glaring at me.
“If you answer our questions, we might not kill the little Rat on sight.... You might get to see her before you die.” I gave him an empty stare, and set my lips into a hard defense against untimely or unwise words. The man snarled, walked briskly over, and took hold of the small gold ring hanging from my left ear lobe.
“Now that is just dirty! What are you going to do, yank?”
“Yes.”
“And what does that prove? Only that you envy my elegantly pointed ears.” He turned his head to one side, thinking to himself, then turned back around, and pulled down hard. I cried out. And by the way, there is nothing wrong with yelling when in pain. I also let fly several obscenities. And maybe wished for an ice-pack. But anyone in their right mind would. I twisted my head and chomped down hard on the officers arm. Once more, he has caused me pain, and I have returned the favor.
~*~
This is what I have so far.... Not much, but I am liking where it is going.
