Astaroth
[*screaming into the void intensifies*]
Original poster
STAFF MEMBER
DONATING MEMBER
FOLKLORE MEMBER
- Invitation Status
- Not accepting invites at this time
- Posting Speed
- Speed of Light
- Slow As Molasses
- Online Availability
- It varies a lot depending on my schedule, unfortunately.
- Writing Levels
- Advanced
- Adaptable
- Preferred Character Gender
- Primarily Prefer Male
- Genres
- Psychological horror
Body horror
Supernatural
Giallo
Splatterpunk
Dark fantasy
Historical
Low fantasy
Magipunk
Weird West
Noir
Thriller
Gothic horror
Southern Gothic
Gaslamp fantasy
Cyberpunk
Space saga
Clockpunk
Space Western
Space opera
Paranormal
Modern fantasy
Dieselpunk
Post-Apocalyptic
Crime drama
Medieval fantasy
ACT I: THE LOVERS, FATED
It was upon a day like any other that our story begins: a day which dawned on glinting spacesteel and the soft glow of phasers in the gloaming; a day where blood was bitterly shed; a day where a millennium-old hatred was perpetuated and reaffirmed on the silty soil of an unclaimed planet.
It began on the day that Alfarin Oddson fell to Tumen Arslan swords.
Our story, however, has its roots not on the battlefield, but on an unspoiled, peaceful planet half a system away.
This planet was called Hespera, and it was on this world that the Khagan's son and his closest men had taken respite. The marital arrangements with Clan Dashtai were beginning to take their toll on the young warrior, and so he sought the comforts of this green paradise when the diversions of war were denied him.
Although his required guard detail accompanied him to the planet's surface, Vachir soon slipped away, preferring the solitude for his thoughts. After all, no hostile soul was to be found on this sacred tract of forested land. What harm could possibly happen upon him which he could not best?
Little did he know that he was not the only young and prominent warrior who had chosen this day to visit Hespera.
Little did he know that he was to be bested, in ways he could never imagine.
It was upon a day like any other that our story begins: a day which dawned on glinting spacesteel and the soft glow of phasers in the gloaming; a day where blood was bitterly shed; a day where a millennium-old hatred was perpetuated and reaffirmed on the silty soil of an unclaimed planet.
It began on the day that Alfarin Oddson fell to Tumen Arslan swords.
Our story, however, has its roots not on the battlefield, but on an unspoiled, peaceful planet half a system away.
This planet was called Hespera, and it was on this world that the Khagan's son and his closest men had taken respite. The marital arrangements with Clan Dashtai were beginning to take their toll on the young warrior, and so he sought the comforts of this green paradise when the diversions of war were denied him.
Although his required guard detail accompanied him to the planet's surface, Vachir soon slipped away, preferring the solitude for his thoughts. After all, no hostile soul was to be found on this sacred tract of forested land. What harm could possibly happen upon him which he could not best?
Little did he know that he was not the only young and prominent warrior who had chosen this day to visit Hespera.
Little did he know that he was to be bested, in ways he could never imagine.