Story of a Paladin

This is my first note as an author in a good while.

Those fragments in italics, without title, have no time or continuity. They are part of the story, but at the same time they are not. Despite their timelessness, I can confess that they take place in the future, for sure, since Samrux's arc hasn't reached that point yet.

I enjoy writing these, but I intend to write pages 41 and 42 to finally sum up the third awakening. After that, it'll just be a matter of time before the fourth begins. I hope to not let down.

I'll travel out of town 'till Sunday. It has been an honor, everyone. I now want to continue what I left off; I don' t know for how long, but some, at least.

Oh, I also wish to fix some mistakes and offs across the entire story. Mostly punctuation. I actually understand semicolons now. Sigh :p



Edit: I have let down. I now posted another titleless fragment, though.
 
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A paladin gazed into the faint light coming from above his head. He had stood in that same spot just how many times before, but he realized something, only now: How much he has lost, and yet, how little he truly had.

How much worth is one human life? In a world with a million different creatures, each one singular, each one unique, how is one person of any value? When a being is just another collection of matter and energy, with their willing movements and so-called "sentience" standing as the only quality separating them from rocks and dust, how can any such life be thought of as important? When all is special, nothing is.

I had companions, though little family. I had a kingdom, yet lost was their humanity. Because those that were called civilized went against everything the human race represented, and stabbed in the back not only my order, but God himself. Maybe they just understood that we truly weren't worth a coin; that life is meaningless. My armor: once symbol of righteousness, order, worth of respect, worth of remembrance; later, the mark signifying my imprisonment; in reality is just metal, fruit of the Earth. Magical metal, yes. Magic and technology make for some very beautiful metal, one can agree, but its true nature remains: It's purified stone. Adamantium is strong stone. Tungsten is weak and conductible stone. We are no more fruit of the Earth than slimes or dirt, and someone knew this. Someone powerful.

I lament that I won't see the true light of day again. I lament not being able to taste water, be comforted by a bed, feel the breeze, or embrace a human being. I lament the death of every person I ever knew. I mourn for these things, every second.

I lament that my armor is now worn by a monster. It now sparkles with the gleam of death unto the eyes of my victims. It wasn't meant to be this way, not according to the morals of a human. A cruel god decided it should be this way. A cruel god thought it was a good idea to punish the innocent for the deeds of the evil.
It raises the question: Who is the evil?

Because if a god acts in a way that we consider evil, is the god itself crazed, or are our morals the wrong ones? Who is in the wrong, then? Were the skeletons that accompany me here in the wrong, was I wrong?


An armor, a hammer, a shield, and a curse. One of the things I carry is not like the other: Three of them were creations of men whose materials were formulated by God; The other, is the act of a god itself. Three of them are neither good nor bad, but can act in either way, while of the fourth I am not sure of its nature. Because every single one of my notions start to fall apart once I consider the fourth. Because the fourth holds so much more meaning, hidden beneath its crude and brutal appearance.

A kingdom praises their king. Their king watches over the kingdom. Their king betrays his kingdom.
A cultist group worships a god. A god watches the Earth. A god punishes both its disciples and the heathens. A god's reasons stay unclear.
A place of enlightenment is turned into a dungeon. Its blue walls covered in rot and blood. Its halls made dark, its people torn of their flesh and mind. The place of enlightenment was made an orphan of the king, and a victim of the god.

Such is the story.


I look into the single beam of light that falls from the surface. I touch the barrier that prevents my escape. I feel my face which has decayed with the millennia. I hold on tight to the hammer that tried to protect the human race. And think. I think of the things that I did right, and wrong. I think of the things I lost and lament. I think about the true meaninglessness of reality and this world. Hearing the undead roar in the shadows and screech in agony, I think that Cthulhu might think the same, and that is why it did this. I think its cultist disciples believed the same, in a way which transcends a normal human being's desire to live and let others live. They weren't human the moment they took that decision. The mad god wasn't human the moment it was born. I am not human anymore, because of those two before me.

And I think some more: Maybe existence is just a game of gods and pawns. Maybe the gods are also the pawns of some bigger gods. Maybe Cthulhu itself, while believing it possesses victory and great power, is, too, a worthless being. And here I sit, not stand, beneath the Earth, in the lowest of ranks; no value, no exit, no hope... Yet I hope my thoughts turn out to be the truth. Because if that were the case, it means nobody won. Cthulhu might just as well be dead, like I am now.




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TheQuietBisharp said:
This is :red:ing writing my friends. While reading this I questioned almost every bit of myself, the feelings that you can relate are uncannily unique and awe-inspiring. One day, maybe I'll have writing skills such as yourself, dear Sam.
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Thank you so much... 5 minutes ago I honestly thought nobody would care.

Edit: Many thanks to any and all readers of that short fragment. In reading it, you and I are both sharing the experience of the piece. It was intense writing it, if I must say.
 
And just when I was starting to think I was getting good...

Samrux, both you and your writing are extraordinary. I find it hard to believe how this fragment is both interesting and fun to read, but also incredibly thought provoking. I'm sure this is the reason why many people here view you as the most talented writer here. :)
 
Brick Creeper said:
And just when I was starting to think I was getting good...

Samrux, both you and your writing are extraordinary. I find it hard to believe how this fragment is both interesting and fun to read, but also incredibly thought provoking. I'm sure this is the reason why many people here view you as the most talented writer here. :)
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Oh no I'm definitely not the most talented. I take some pride in my improvement through this last year, and from not being native to the language, but that's all I can say. I just managed to echo my little knowledge and skill in a more-or-less meaningful way, and get it out to the people. I made this story and other pieces by heart, and desiring to do the best thing I possibly could. But I even got some help. I can recall @Pixel and @aWolfen being of great help and inspiration during the daily process of writing, back on the first and second chapters.
Maybe I'm just being excessively humble about it, but I can't ever accept being called the most talented. With so many amazing people out there on the forums, no. Look at the three winners of the anniversary contest, for one thing; maybe one of them is.

Thanks a lot.
 
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man, it's been so long since you posted on this thread, got me jumpy when I got an alert for it, but hot damn was it a sight when I saw the new piece.
good stuff, bub, very good.
 
Samrux said:
Oh no I'm definitely not the most talented. I take some pride in my improvement through this last year, and from not being native to the language, but that's all I can say. I just managed to echo my little knowledge and skill in a more-or-less meaningful way, and get it out to the people. I made this story and other pieces by heart, and desiring to do the best thing I possibly could. But I even got some help. I can recall @Pixel and @aWolfen being of great help and inspiration during the daily process of writing, back on the first and second chapters.
Maybe I'm just being excessively humble about it, but I can't ever accept being called the most talented. With so many amazing people out there on the forums, no. Look at the three winners of the anniversary contest, for one thing; maybe one of them is.

Thanks a lot.
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DEAR GOD!

this is one of the best pices of writing I've seen! This also gets me slightly angry because I say things like this at school and the only thing I get is someone saying "are you high?"
 
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