Tag Archive: Fantasy

another story set in the elysian universe, this one takes place before “Siege of Fortuna”

Janus Merak hated people. He hated all their little quirks, their little annoyances. He hated trying to talk to them, and would rather be the man running the lights at a concert than the guy on stage. It irked him incredibly when others would disturb him during his work. And he detested public speaking and listening to others with a burning passion. Yet, somehow, Janus Merak had become a politician. And after becoming a politican, he had somehow become the Chancellor of the Circle, the highest ruling body on the planet Inasti, capital of the Langrith Empire. He supposed it was the power, the sense that his choices had weight, that balanced out his hatred of people as he stood on the balcony of the Castaraine Building, overlooking a massive crowd of those irksome cretins and holding a few wisps of paper in his hand, containing a speech. He walked up to a podium, and straightened his papers, then leaned towards the microphone, and began.

Despite his inward feelings, Janus was well liked by the people. This had been proven during the elections, when he won in a landslide victory against his opponent from the Gaean Party, Verona Castille. It had been proven again when the crowd cheered as he had announced his plans to strengthen the military from his podium on the balcony. And it was being proven again now, as nearly the entire city of Joathi, center of the empire’s government on Inasti, attended his state funeral, and the rest of the empire watched, coupled with the newsreels about the man with an Elysian ID and weapon who had gunned him down mid speech.


A short story I wrote, based off of  a certain historical event, and tied to a short historical fiction piece i wrote!

..As Joseph Pavlik led his squadron of Damocles class missileboats towards the fusionpulse gate, he looked over his shoulder at the hundreds of other Damocles and Excalibur class vessels forming up for their own gatejumps, their sleek, almost shark-like hulls glistening in the light of X26-G13, the nearest star. The emblem of the Langrith empire shone out on some of their delta wings, its crossed swords brandished over a single golden shield. He prepped his missileboat’s pulsedrive, before nodding at his wingman, and entering the gate, heading for the Asopus system, and war.

    The planet Fortuna wasn’t a planet persay. It was far too small to be a planet. Nestled in the rings of the gas giant Asopus, Fortuna was a small moon, mostly covered in blue-green seas. Its gravitational forces had made a small clear space in the rings, large enough for a fleet of warships to dock in. This gap had been taken advantage of by the Elysian Republic, who had colonised the little world that hid in the shadow of its leviathan neighbor. The gap had been quickly filled with large dry docks, storage tanks, and stations. Fortuna itself had become somewhat of a vacation world for the Elysian crewman when they were on shore leave. Several small towns had popped up on the planet, mostly along the shoreline. On the first sunday of the last month of the Elysian calendar, the 72nd Battle Fleet, under command of Admiral Patrick Mcdonough, was in port for refit and repair at Fortuna.

    Patrick Mcdonough stood on the bridge of his flagship, the ERS Athena. He was a fitting presence there, one with authority. He could trace his lineage all the way back to Old Earth, where his ancestors fought in the United States Army Air Corp. The military was in his blood, and his crew knew it. On this particular day, He stood looking over his combat information display, at the twenty four ships scattered throughout Fortuna’s facilities, all under his command. There were three hundred small blue dots as well, sprinkled throughout the asteroids in small spindly lines. These dots represented Fortuna command’s defense force of Ceres Class fighters, all docked in their high capacity parking limbs. He glanced away from the console as he sat down, and looked out a nearby viewport at the Athena’s seven sister ships, sitting in a set of two straight lines across the gap from the Athena, their splendor and strength clearly evident against the backdrop of Fortuna’s topaz seas. He gazed at the ships for a few more moments before looking away and picking up a stack of E-Pads, and prepared to spend another uneventful sunday reading reports.

    The computer in Joseph Pavlik’s Damocles came to life as they neared the Asopus System.  He looked at the computer for a moment, before letting out a sigh, and opening up a channel to the rest of the Missleboats and Fighters, ordering them to warm up their weapons and prepare for re-entry into normal space. As he prepared his own weapons, he let out a heavy sigh, the weight of what he and his comrades were about to do, and about to start, finally hitting him. He rubbed his face, then ordered the attack force to cut engines as the the pulsedrive tunnel collapsed.

    Asopus’ light blue clouds disguised a large molten iron core. This iron core, five times the size of the planet Earth, projected a massive magnetic field. This magnetic field disguised the pulsedrive tunnel collapsing on the far side of the planet from Fortuna. Asopus also hid the 420 tiny flecks coming out of that pulsedrive tunnel, as they approached the azure jewel nestled inside the ring of icy rocks that orbited the giant ball of gas.

    Eveline Hersman guided her mining barge through the rocky maze of Asopus’ rings, navigating towards a particularly ore-rich clump of asteroids. As she neared the cluster, she saw several dozen bright flecks of light approaching her, not showing up on sensors. She shrugged the flecks off, assuming the navy was simply running exercises. As the flecks approached, and became small ships, she quirked an eyebrow. “Those ships don’t look right.” she thought.  “Their shapes are all wrong.” As the ships grew close enough for detailed inspection, her eyes locked on the crossed swords and shield painted onto their hulls. “Those are Langrith ships!”  Panic flew across her face, and she powered down the barge, save for the comm, which she used to try and contact Fortuna Command with a warning.

As the strike force approached Asopus’ orbit, Pavlik spotted a mining barge drifting in the gas giant’s retinue of asteroids. He let out a sigh, and motioned a couple times to his nearest wingman with his hand. The pilot gave a nod, and veered his craft towards the barge. The small strike craft descended upon the barge like a hawk, weapons hot, but instead destroying the lumbering defenseless giant, simply shot out its comm array. After making its pass, the strikecraft gently turned, and headed back towards the FusionPulse gate, its engines on lowest power levels to avoid detection.

Despite his best efforts, Admiral Mcdonough had dozed off in his command chair. He dreamed of his home on the planet surface, right on the coast of Fortuna’s pristine oceans. He and his small family were on the beach, his young son playing with the sand as he and his wife watched. The hours passed, and day turned to dusk as he and his family watched the massive blue orb of Asopus settle down under the horizon as Fortuna’s night cycle began. Suddenly, his dream world was shattered to bits as a klaxon blared out on the bridge. His eyes flew open and darted around, trying to figure out what was going on. The bridge was in chaos, alarms flashing  and wailing, people scurrying about to their battle stations.  He jumped up as a small blast shook the ship, and wobbled his way over to the  C.I.D. As he leaned against it and studied the display, his eyes widened and he paled. For every blue icon on his screen, he saw at least four or five blood red icons racing around, attacking any and every ship in Fortuna’s Orbit.  The Athena’s bridge shok again as another blast, at least twice the size of the first, shook the mighty giant to the core. Mcdonough’s eyes flew to the viewscreen, and his jaw dropped as the massive destruction being delivered upon Fortuna’s infrastructure became obvious. Flashes were going off all around from the sheer amount of laser fire pouring down on the defenders like a torrential downpour of angry red rain. Several smaller ships were listing uncontrollably towards Fortuna’s atmosphere, their lights and power conduits flickering, and most of the larger ships had clearly visible impact burns on their hulls, some of which were bleeding atmosphere. Then another Impact shook the Athena, and the viewscreen went dark.

The engines of Pavlik’s Damocles’ screamed as he dove towards an already battered fighter parking limb. He lined up his crosshairs on the rapidly approaching structure, and pulled the trigger. His missileboat shook a bit as he pulled up, verifying to him that he had hit the parking limb’s fuel storage, and most likely destroyed the structure. He then pulled up, and headed towards the center berth in the harbor, where eight lumbering Zeus Class Battleships lie in dock. He lined up his missileboat for an attack run on one of the  battleships, with the name Ares painted onto the hull. He gave his missiles a few seconds to lock, before sucking in a breath, and pulling the trigger.

The Athena’s Viewscreen flicked to life, just long enough to give Admiral Mcdonough a view of the Ares being struck by two missiles. The mighty ship listed for a moment, before igniting into a massive fireball and ripping in half. The massive shockwave hit the Athena, and the ship shook, the screen flickering back out along with the lights, casting Admiral Mcdonough and his crew into darkness.

The news reports the next day were grim. Within two hours, 24,030 men had been killed by the Langrith attack. The most devastating blow was the loss of the Ares, along with 11,170 of her crew. The next morning, The Elysian Republic, under urging of their president, Fairfax Radburn, declared war on the Langrith Empire.  Analysts were spouting off about how there hasn’t been a surprise attack against a naval base like this since Old Earth’s second world war, when the Japanese Empire attacked the naval base at Pearl Harbor on December 7th, 1941, with results much like what occurred here at Fortuna.

The Aging earl sat in front of the fire in his study, eating his afternoon meal. He had just finished a meeting with Earl Fraser and Prince Theobald over the grain shortage, and was exhausted. He was beginning to doze off when suddenly,  his chair was kicked over, and He lay on the floor. He looked up to see a well built, muscular man in a white cloak standing over him. “You Lied to me! i told you if you lied to me I would be back!” Sebastian Rigatonni, Fifth Earl of Bantyre, blanched white. “Lucius…” He  stammered “How wonderful.. to see you again!” His greeting was answered with a kick in the side. “Tell me what you know about The Shadow, you worthless pile of bones!” “The Shadow? Ive never heard of anything called the Sha-” He was cut off as Lucius hoisted him up and slammed him against the wall “You will NOT lie to me if you value your pitiful excuse for a life. I know you are connected with them, in fact, i’ve heard you are fairly high up in the food chain. Tell me how to get in.” Lucius said, tightening his grip on the other man’s throat. Sebastian frowned, turning even whiter than before. “Bu..but… they will kill me!” Lucius chuckled. “Then don’t tell them you fool! Tell me who to contact to get into the organization, and if i need it, vouch for me. Do so, and I spare you when the time comes. Decline, and.. well let’s just say I wouldn’t worry about what your shadowy friends will do to you.” Sebastian stammered for a moment, seemingly close to tears,  then he nodded “Fine… they aren’t worth my life. Go to the Flying Dutchman Inn and ask for a man named Balt. He’ll handle it from there” Lucius let go of the noble, who slumped into a heap on the ground. As he was walking away, lucius turned “Oh and Earl… We’ll keep in touch.”


Heres a little snippet i wrote. It’s a fanfic for the game Anno 2070. If you all like it i’ll write and post more of it!

Avina let out a sigh and ran a hand through her hair as she stood on the bridge of her ark, The Bastion, and turned, nodding her head at her helmsman to bring the Bastion to the surface. The helmsman nodded, and pressed a button on his console, then slowly nudged a lever upward. With each tick the lever passed, the Bastion’s engines became louder, and with a low groan, she began to move upward from the oceans floor. Avina looked out a nearby porthole, and watched as the water outside slowly grew lighter with each passing moment. She watched as a large tuna swam past, then her eyes widened as the Bastion rose into a large swarm of bright pink jellyfish, their sheer quantity diffusing the light entering into the bridge, sending pink hued splotches and shadows scattering across the small room. After a moment of staring in awe, Avina was shaken out of her reverie when her helmsman cleared his throat and looked at her, then said “Thirty seconds to the surface ma’am”.  Avina gave a nod, then walked over to the comm. She flipped it on, then pressed a button and spoke into it. “Sergei.. get a crew together and man the Hermes. Loadout for recon.” The comm crackled then a male voice came back over, garbled with static. “Aye ma’am. We’ll be ready in fifteen minutes.” With a curt nod, Avina cut the comm and walked up to the observation platform to have a look around.

A few moments later, Avina stood on the Observation platform that wrapped around the Bastion’s bridge tower, staring out at a decent sized speck of land off on the horizon. As she studied it, a tumultuous swarm of whirs and clangs issued forth from below her. The clamor ended with a loud splash as the Bastion’s hangar door hit the water. Avina wrinkled her nose as the smell of diesel exhaust assaulted her, accompanied by the sounds of an engine starting. Seconds later, another splash was heard, and the Bastion’s scout vessel, the Hermes, issued forth from the hanger, practically skipping across the water towards the distant speck, a land Avina hoped to turn into her home.

Jesters Blade Chp. 3

The next morning, Lucius awoke in the small room he had acquired in a nondescript inn in the countryside. Donning the new clothes he had also acquired, he went downstairs into the inn’s smoky, dimly lit, main hall. walking up to the innkeeper, he asked for a small meal, a mug of ale, and for the innkeeper to keep the room vacant for him, while handing over a small pouch of coin. After eating, he left the inn, and mounted a nearby horse, returning to the Kingdom’s capital city.

An hour or two later, as he rode through the city’s gate he saw a poster with an crudely drawn image of himself with the words “WANTED! dead or alive! reward: 50,000 sovereigns” written under it. He shrugged it off, knowing the guards would eventually discover the fact that his cell was empty.

He stowed his horse in a nearby stable, and walked to the “Gilded Dragon”, one of the city’s more famous inns. As he strode through the doors, he saw an aged, particularly pudgy, wealthy man sitting at a table and strode over to him. “Earl Fraser” he said quietly, slipping into an empty chair.  The man looked up, shock and confusion on his face, then exclaimed “Lucius! wha… how did you… never mind. Not here, this place isn’t safe. Meet me in my room in an hour, and make sure you aren’t followed.”

Around an hour later, Lucius snuck up to the Earl’s room, on the dragon’s second floor. He slipped into the room, to find Fraser sitting in front of a small fireplace. Fraser saw him enter, and got up, walking to him. “Lucius! I counted you dead for sure!” he exclaimed. “They’ll have to try harder than that to get rid of me” Lucius said, smirking. “Indeed…” the Earl retorted. “What were you thinking!” The portly noble said angrily as he shut the door “you were only supposed to spy on the king, gather information to help me get those grain trade rights, not kill the man!” “I knew my duties. I didn’t kill the king. someone framed me.” Fraser leaned back in his chair, stroking his small, white beard. “I see… Well this changes everything! If it wasn’t you, then who did kill our beloved imbecile of a ruler? And why would they want to frame you? Do they know of your true background, or were you merely a victim who was in the wrong spot at the wrong time?” Lucius looked at Fraser, cold, hard, determination on his face, as he replied “I do not know, but I intend to find out.”

An hour or two later, Lucius lay in his dark, dank, pit of a cell, eating Darkmyre’s terrible attempt at food. As he finished the “meat” he saved one of the narrower bones.

Within an hour, Lucius had managed to whittle the bone into a knife, and attempted to pick the lock on his cell door. At first, the lock stubbornly refused to co-operate, nearly breaking the makeshift pick, but after an hour or two of poking in the keyhole, Lucius heard a small click. He pushed on the door, which without the lock restraining it, swung open freely. Without the door to blockade him, the only thing between Lucius, Son of Graf, and freedom were four hundred guards and the second thickest gates in the entire kingdom.

The young Guard stood at his post at the cell block door, fighting against the growing urge to doze off for a few hours. As he was about to lose the battle, he was suddenly roused awake by an odd noise on the wall. He turned to see what the noise was, and after peering over the edge for a minute, decided it was the wind. He turned back to his post, to find himself face to face with a mysterious man in hooded robes. “G’nite boy!” the man said, before slugging the guard in the gut, and following up with an elbow to his head

After gaining a set of keys off the unconscious Guard, the man raced down the cell block, looking for the cell of Lucius, son of Graf.

As he came to the row of cells which contained Lucius he halted, checking for guards. Seeing none, he drew a small, dark, dagger out of his robes, preparing to deal a killing blow. He sprinted down the hallway, throwing his knife into Lucius’ cell as he ran, hitting Lucius’ cot squarely in the pillow.

Instead of hearing the dying scream he expected, the man heard only a dull thud. As first shock, then worry, then fear raced through his heart, he grabbed a torch off the wall and thrust it through the cell’s bars, illuminating the dank room. He found nothing.

As Lucius slowly slid down the wall on his newly acquired rope (courtesy of the Darkmyre store room) he saw a light shining out of his cell. Realizing either his escape had been discovered, or far worse had happened, he hastened his descent, rappelling down the wall as fast as he safely could.

The man ran to the cell window, and saw Lucius descending toward Darkmyre’s courtyard. He grabbed his knife and began working on the rope that Lucius was suspended by, hacking wildly, out of desperation.

As Lucius was nearing the bottom of the wall, he felt his rope jerk, then snap, falling down toward him. He began to freefall straight toward Darkmyre’s stone courtyard, just barely grabbing a drain protruding from the wall. Now hanging just a few feet above the ground, he dropped into the cover of a nearby bush.

The man mumbled something under his breath as Lucius touched the ground, then raced off, hoping to catch him before he escaped the prison entirely.

Lucius looked around for some means of escape when he heard a nearby door slam. He whipped around, to see a prison cart begin to pull away from one of Darkmyre’s towers. He raced after it, barely managing to grab a hold on the back of the cart, and passed right through Darkmyre’s 40 meter thick gates completely un-noticed.

The Man burst through a door at the bottom of the tower, and raced out of the gate before it slammed shut. He looked down the road and saw a cart tearing along into the night, with a poorly dressed, haggard man hanging on behind. He strode away, wondering where he might “meet” that man next.