The following part is based on a character I created while writing my first fanfiction and to be honest I could never leave that character to be forgotten, so here is a story about him with better writing.

Updates will be frequent for this story.

And take a look at my website its been updated beyond reckoning, I have a blog there which is updadted weekly, read and comment if you want.

The Slayer:

The burning heavens watched down as they unknowingly cast their heat at those of the Witchwood Arena. A total of five thousand people had come from every corner of Albion for the final days of Saliek the Balverine slayer in the Arena. The young Arab had an extensive and impressive life in Albion but he had finally finished his research of his fabled ancestor ‘Faustus’. He’d first been thrown in to the Arena sands against criminals, he’d been nicknamed ‘The Executioner ’ by the announcer due to his past days as a assassin, but soon came to be loved by the Arena’s crowd as the only name they could create ‘Saliek’ such a name the Arab thought, the people stupid, uneducated, but soon he came to love them and his new name.

Faster and harder opponents where tossed at the young swordsman, and they all tasted the foul end of his deadly blades. The young boy was first treated like a slave given rusted weapons and clothe that was meant to protect him, it did not. Eventually the crowd demanded Salieks freedom the Arab took it, and with freedom he left the Arena his home since he was taken captive there. Free once again he’d missed it, surely killing innocents for money was a mistake it given him a bad reputation but he shook this idea off always, his killings had led him to the Arena a place were it seemed more like home than anywhere else, everywhere else seemed soulless.

During his two years he spend most of that time in the wild, he found one creature in the wild forests of Witchwood, these particular creatures made his blood boil from excitement ‘Balverines’ these fearsome beasts were black, furred, like the wolves from the forests to the east of Albion. But they stood upright like men powerful as dogs and nimble as cats, he killed many of them. He became so engrossed in them that he learned their way of life more so than human life, people fear them, Saliek learned a obvious but overlooked quality that the wolves had ‘they never attack once they’ve fed’ and why would they? Their animals after all, leave them alone they leave you alone, provoke them and fight for your life.

The end of his two years out of the Arena, he met two of these Balverines one was black and greying, another was pure white “Glorious” he spoke softly as he stalked them. Such Beauty they have, truly a gift from what god is unknown.

The two beasts seen him and run at him to inspect the small intruder, Saliek looked at the white one as it looked back at him, its hair is so thick, its skin strong as steel, he’d broken many weapons trying to kill these two, their muscles flexing constantly. Stronger than any barbarian you’d ever have the misfortune to see. The black one its eyes were yellow, piercing, the vision that these creatures possessed was Salieks dream, yet he knew the most he could have from these beasts as a trophy were their skins. Their nails sharp, edged thick as timber, Saliek looked at his blades he had took two short swords named Katana’s from the armoury in the Arena, this time with silver mixed with the steel, it seemed to hurt the wolves more.

The three of them stood in a opening in the forest of Witchwood, Saliek eyed his surroundings trees everywhere and a soft rain beating against the wet mud, you could smell the pine on the soft wind. The Balverines walked forward both to attack at the same time, Saliek readying his feet, his blades. He pulled his damp hood down from his darkly tanned face to get a wider point of view, his armour, if it could be called that, was simple brown leather mixed with bull fur to keep him warm.

The black beast kicked its legs to jump, Saliek seeing it then breaking with unnatural speed for a human, twisted and jumped rolling to the wet dirty ground, just missing the full blow of the wolf his feet got knocked by the fast wolf in the haste, it caused him to land face first in the mud. He jumped to his feet before the wolf knew what had happened, he looked at it laying down for barely a second then broke in a sprint for the giant white Balverine, it looked at its mate on the floor and seen Saliek, in mid air with his swords facing downwards aimed for the beasts chest.

The giant swiped out with its claws but it was to late, Saliek landed on the Balverine with the swords dug deep into the wolfs chest it howled in pain, Saliek got Goosebumps from the loud pain filled cry his hairs stood on end, Saliek slightly moaning also it had cut his back the nails went in deep. Both of them lie on the floor, the black one was at its feet once again. Saliek grabbed the tree they nearly crashed into and then grabbing the branches to lift himself, Saliek unsheathed another sword a rare one that he used only when necessary, it wasn’t at all silver but could make up for Balverine poison in its dangerous pointed edges.

The Arab ran at the black creature then stopping with lighting footwork sliding with the mud, and spinning in a 360’ angle slicing at the balverines throat as he spun, it fell to the floor with blood pouring from its neck. The giant still on the ground, the silver swords had worked and gone deeper than expected. Saliek looked at them both and sighed he walked over to the white giant whom was stuck to the ground it didn’t even move when it seen Saliek. It looked at him with those bright yet darkly orange eyes, Saliek knew it was smart enough to understand what was going to happen, the beast looked at Saliek in the most calm way a Balverine had ever been seen, peaceful, the Arab dug is jagged blade into its head giving it the rest it deserved. These two had fought bravely for many weeks, bless their cursed spirits thought the slayer.

On from then Saliek wore the black Balverines skins as a sign of love and compassion for the beasts, and the great white Balverine, dismembering her was the hardest thing Saliek had ever had to do. But it was worth it, wearing the bones and skins of monsters says a lot, about a man mainly "I’m not to be f*ck*d with" but other words can be proclaimed. The Arab certainly earned a mean reputation from killing and knowing Balverines, wearing the bones and red chain mail in battle he looked like a skinless white Balverine it send everyone running in fear from the demon encased in bone.

For ten years he has lived and fought in the Arena, thirty years of age now and he leaves us, this is his last battle among Albion. Down at the centre of the ring stood the immortalised speed demon Saliek, fighting a different opponent for once, a earth Troll. The barbaric green and brown brute tossing clumps of sand at the small fighter, who dodged them mostly, Saliek stood there in the centre reaching for an arrow from his back to load into his short bow he’d been sending arrows whizzing for all morning. Swords blurring the sight of his enemies and his feet dancing like a madman of war send the crowd in constant roar.

He hated magic apart from the few spells he trusted, but aside from his own, he despised magic and that’s exactly what these Trolls are, shadow magic keeping an element together, keeping it alive. Saliek wore his Bone armour, the skull fixed on his head, the ribs, the spine, everything and where bones couldn’t fit, red chain mail making him look like bone and muscle, horrifying even to a Troll.

Running, attacking, defending, every movement was a dance of death, with no waste of energy every time he moved his blade blood spilt, twirling weapons, blood flying, the speed demon was his favourite title and he truly did deserve it. The man could reach you before you blinked. Without the magic he’s divinely skilled with a blade, and his feet, but with it he is Skorms champion nothing is left breathing, he bathes in the blood of his targets as he cuts them down.

The Crowds noise was beyond deafening no wonder heroes fear coming here, only a select few can withstand the thunderous roars of the crowd, Saliek is one of the few who gets better as the crowd gets louder. His feet never stop, running up to the troll he rolled from an oncoming bolder hurled by the Troll. Then letting loose a stream of arrows at the fat thing, the arrows went straight into the monsters stomach, and when it tries to block the arrows they go to its hairy arms. The Troll was full of arrows. Saliek with no more arrows tires of long range combat, and goes in for the kill, he furiously dashed at the Troll.

Coming close the Troll punched out at tiny Saliek, only to find that he ran up its arm, the Troll begins to panic, Saliek gripping onto the arrows lodged into its back, while removing a old friend from his back hilt “Vipers Fang” a true meaning of the word legendary weapon. The sword handle is a black snakes head with the eyes being blue gems the snakes hood was the hand guard, the blade ridged, jagged, deadly.

He held on to the neck of the Troll and jumped to the giants face, while stabbing and slashing madly at its chest, it bled, it cried, and Saliek laughed at the monsters cries. The Slayer pushed himself off the beast with the compact power of his legs, sending the Troll stumbling, it gathered its feet and charged at Saliek. The Arab jumped up and landed on the sand hard signalling and taunting the dumb thing to come faster, it didn’t like it,the earth Troll began screeching.

It came to contact with the slayer, but Saliek darted behind the monsters legs slicing at its knees, it fell to one knee, while the Arab run at it from behind, sprinting up its back and jumping from its head in mid air turning to face the beast and deliver his blade to its skull, The blade cracked and sawed through the beasts head, it fell dead to the floor....

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updates will be coming soon, please give much feedback, tel me what you think of it.

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I will be writing more, but please give feedback. Oh and only the beginning of the story is set in Albion the rest of it is set somewhere else, somewhere to the east where reptiles and sand cover the heated landscape.

Like the sound of it? Then post! And tell me your comments

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Very nice. I've only skimmed over as I'm pretty tired. I'll re-read it later and tell you what I think.

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Thanks for reading and replying EynEvau I just read yours, posted a comment.

Hope you come back to read all of it.

Hermit

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I liked it I thought it was very interesting and adding to the next chapter a place with sand and lizards will make it more exotic so yeah go ahead haha.

Thanks Samuel

I'd love some constructive feedback, on my writing, and what you thought of the story/characters. if you can spare a review

But thanks for reading, I hope you continue to do so.

But what do you guys think of the main character being an Arab, I'm not trying to spread a message of peace between English and Arabs, honestly

Another part should be up soon(ish)

Hermit

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hehe yes I can spare a review

First off the whole Arab english thing doesn't make it seem like your bringing peace at all it just show's how the arena was alot like the collosseum which it was it took on prisoners of all shapes and sizes and from different lands too so I think it takes on a history that was long forgotten heck for all we know this guy could've been in the hall of heroes in there.

And another thing I thought was interesting is that this person had never ever seen a balverine before and yet he thought so much of them he thought they were majestic beautiful creatures whereas the people who'd lived with them for many years think of them as a curse.

and I really can't wait to see how he brings things he knows from albion into a heated landscape so

job

P.S. I know that Desperate Essence was a short story but it could be alot more but that's just what I think.

Thanks

I'm writing chapter one now, the one before was the prologue.

The next part is Saliek bidding farewell to the arena by himself.

Edit:

Chapter One

The crowd sent themselves in a sting of shock as they made more noise than had ever occurred at the Arena, the ground seemed to shake from it. The holding cells, the armoury, the hall of heroes, all over the Arena you could hear the booming sound of five thousand shouting beyond their volume. Saliek down at the centre of the ring, was pushing at the dead Trolls head with his feet trying to pull his blade from the beasts skull, even he was nervous from the roars. “This is what immortality feels like?” he spoke through his helm to himself barely hearing the words, “its epic” smirking as he said it, embracing his slightly nervous state.

The white clad swordsman felt a motion from the sword, at last he thought it was moving, the blade slid out of the Trolls head with blood pouring from the open wound. He sheathed his weapon back to its hilt, and began walking back inside away from the constant cries of the crowd missing him already as he walked into the preparation area the room that led from the hall of heroes to the ring.

A guard shut the door behind Saliek as he entered the room, the guards huffed at the sound of the now quietening sound of the crowd. The Arab walked over to a table in the corner of the rectangular chamber filled with fighters, traders, and blacksmiths, he walked to his area of the room where his coach sat. The old man was bald with a very simple beige cotton shirt with brown leggings on him, he passed a flask of water to Saliek, “thanks” spoke Saliek quietly as he removed his helm showing his dark skin and black fine hair, he placed the helm on a table, then pouring water over himself, the blood washed away from his bone armour.

The man smiled while sighing also “I don’t know how this place will cope with out yer lad, I really don’t, there’s not a single fighter here worthy of the champions seal.” The warriors around the room glanced cruelly at the old man, he gave a quick laugh back at them. “Where about is this city?” he enquired at the panting Arab, “east, the books I’ve been studying tell of Faustus coming from a country to the far east of the world, were people ride camels rather than horses.” Replied the tired fighter as he removed his chest piece and chain mail.

“Camels? What in Skorms hell is that?” laughed the old coach, “I don’t remember, all I can recall is oceans of sand and the heat, a dying memory” chuckled Saliek. “Did your parents ever tell you the name of their country?” asked Salieks trainer, “probably, but I might have been to young at the time, wasn’t much of a chance to soak in my heritage I was merely three and I was brought to this country, still its been an intriguing journey.” told Saliek as he sat down pouring water over his arms and face.

                                                                            البيت هو حيث الروح هي

The Arena was empty now, Everyone but Saliek and the guards on patrol were left. “So quiet” Said a guard to Saliek as he sat on a stone bench looking down at the ring. Saliek smiled, “you on your break?” Asked Saliek, “yer, it’ll be a long night especially with the performance you gave it‘ll have me thinking of that fight all through out the night haha!” laughed the guard as he placed his sword below the bench. Saliek removed a thin black long coat and threw it on a bench, beneath it he wore a cotton shirt open at the chest and rolled up sleeves revealing his dark skin with simple brown pants and boots these were rare clothes on the Arab he usually only wore clothes like this in private.

“Which fight? The Troll? Or the Nymph clan?” asked Saliek always wanting comments from his fans. “The Troll was a fight, but the Nymphs were amazing the ring was lit up with every possible colour I can imagine” spoke the guard softly as he removed his cap and gazed at the many stars of the night sky, entranced in its unknown beauty.

“Hey we best get going” Rushed Saliek, as he pushed the guard to his feet. “Why what’s the rush got somewhere to go, I thought your ship didn’t arrive till tomorrow?” asked the guard at the Arab. Saliek pointed to the moon, “its very late, the arena isn’t that quiet around this time if you catch my drift.” stated the Arab at the guard.

“You mean the noise of a night comes from out here?” wondered the guard, “no down there” Saliek said as he pointed down at the ring, the guards always heard noises from the ring of a night that’s why they avoided it, everyone did except Saliek and the new guard that Saliek had dragged along for a quiet chat.

The guard began gathering his belongings, grabbing his sword and cap, and running for the nearest exit from ringside. Saliek laughed at him, no one would dare to see the splendours of the Arena in its darkness. Stupid all of them thought Saliek as he walked down the steps, wanting to get closer to the ring, he got to the front row seats and sat down. “Ancient, forgotten, immortal, fresh, all variations of souls live in the twilight of the Arena.” he mumbled to himself, seeing the Arenas history literally come alive. He pushed his fringe back waiting for a long dead barbarian…

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Tell me what you guys think

love ya's muah!

*kiss, kiss*

Hermit

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very I liked this chapter alot it left me wanting the next segment, I think watching the twilight battles of Nostro and other past heroe's would be an interesting sight to see.

I also like how humble this character is, I mean he was looking after that guards well being there for a second hahah.

but yeah keep writin.

 I just got done reading it. Very nicely written, my favorite is the troll battle. I can't wait for next part, I wonder if the main character from Fable would be included inthe midnight battles?

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Thanks guys!

I'll be introducing some new charaters soon: Perry, Aundo, Marcus, Sheeba, and maybe some more, but those are the main ones.

If you ever read my first fanfiction you would know Perry Aundo and the name Sheeba. Sheeba is coming along with us to Arabia, she's a beautiful white Balverine whom was raised in the Arena.

Should be up by next Wensday or Friday, as I'm busy with the bloody Easter thing happening. I hate Easter

Hermit

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Woah,  lol I have a dog named Sheeba what a concidence.

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haha that's pretty coincidental

but it sounds very interesting since there's going to be a balvarine in the desert hehe those people won't know what to do

A white balverine would make for a graceful and deadly steed over the glistening golden sands of the Eastern deserts...

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Has the world ended already? Oh dear, I must have missed it. . .

Riding a Balverine? Any self respecting Balverine would have the brains to make their friends walk! Even a friendly one.

As a small recap of my first one, perry was a trader but he became a soldier of sorts, Aundo was a guard but became Marcus'(Archon) body guard. And the Balverines aka pit dogs have been being bred to be domesticated by the people of the Arena thats the reason behind friendly Balverines.

Hermit

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I really enjoyed this, it is really , keep it up

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-Galactic-

I love your work.  It's exciting and adventurous.  And I think you must be really nice, coz you always leave nice comments on other people's work, except mine...*sheds tear*

Please don't let my phoney tears pressure you into commenting my story.  Read it in your own time, if you want to and comment it
if you feel like it.

Nice?

I'm actully rather selfish I only post on other peoples when I can be bothered, I barely read other peoples stories as I'm more of a writer than a reader, I may post to other peoples fictions but I wont continue to read past the first post, hehe sneakish I am.

Unlesh its a really one such as Marcasites or gottsteins.

I'll try and take a look at yours, pyro I think its called.

And thanks for the comments existance

Hermit

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 Wow. What a brilliant story! I like how unlike some others, you've chosen to follow a completely unrelated story, the only link to Albion being the Arena and Balverines. Nice touch. One thing I have to say though is when theres a new speaker (say someone says something then someone else says something)  you start a new paragraph, like this:

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 The two hunters hid behind the trees, watching the Balverine drink form the lake.

 "Do you want to strike first?" Says one, raising his axe at the beautiful creature.

 "Hell no! He'll eat me alive!" Replies the other, shaking his head furiously.

 "Very well," The first hunter sighs, "I guess I'll start this one off." And with that he charges out into the open, closely followed by his young companion.

____________________________________________________________

 Anyway, that aside it's a fantastic story. I'd love to hear about the untold tales of the East!

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Thanks for the feedback cheesus, I'll try and work on that point.

i'll try and get a new part up soon, but lately I've had ideas about my Ember story, I had a brainstorm and found a new idea about scythe loads of people think its logical for him to be archon yes?

Well I have a very old name that is even more logical though I can't say.

Should have a new part within the month sorry for making you all wait, but I'm just piecing together certain bits of the next segment, what will happen, the ghosts of the arena, archon castle scene opps

I said to much.

Hermit

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I enjoyed reading your story and one thing in particular really stood out for me.  When you described the armor, the bones over the red chain mail, that was brilliant.  I could imagine what it looked like and it was incredibly fearsome and intimidating.

Waiting for the next chapter now.

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Dear angel, where are your warming wings tonight? It's so cold outside. Won't you hold me for a while? And angel, I feel alone and unalive. The night is frozen and these tears have stung my eyes.

Thanks for reading and replying Marcasite

I'm ecstatic you liked the impression of the armour, thats exactly what I thought. ^_^

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As requested:

OK, there a few small grammtical errors, mostly regarding times and so on. So you write things like this, just as an example: "He seed the man and runned towards them". You're not actually using correct grammar at all in these cases so when do have a look at them first, and maybe read it out loud. This will help you pick up on errors like this.

Your writing style is very forced and archaic, try to use more natural language, again, writing a lot will help you with this. Typical example of strange language:

"Saliek with no more arrows tires of long range combat, and goes in for the kill, he furiously dashed at the Troll."

"Saliek, with no more arrows left, tired of long range combat, and went it for the kill, furiously dashing at the troll." Your writing is understandable, but certainly not easy to read. Read through it at least twice before posting it. It's hardly ever the best choice to tell a story in the present tense as you have done.

Keep working at it, but it's much better.

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Boo.

Thanks muchly Kalavande.

I'll try and improve what you spoke on. Haven't wrote since this fiction, try and get some more up soon.

Hermit

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