Metal Reviews

I demand closure on my counterpart! Where am I?

Aaaaaahhhh! I am selfish and I demand to be brought back!

here too, i got killed off in the first chapter :evil:

Well I merely disapeared!

Funny, he reflected to himself, how little death hurts. From the way the mystics spoke of that hallowed subject, you would expect it to be a colossal wrench, ripping one out of his universe and ejaculating him into… well, whatever lay afterwards. The Priests and Imams said that beyond lay a paradise, where every whim was accounted for, and delights beyond one’s wildest dreams grew from the trees.

Azrael had not found this to be the case, however. After the mild discomfort he experienced when his head exploded, he had found himself in a sea of nothingness. Darkness lay all around him, and although he could distinguish shapes in the murk, when he tried to move towards them they shifted and became other things. From time to time he felt a strange sensation, as if something was watching him, yet he saw no one there. After a while he learnt to focus on the shapes, and find peace in their chaos. He fell into a kind of trance, and remained so for some time. Until he felt the calling, and, opening up, his world had collapsed in on itself, sending him down a long tunnel, eventually finding himself back in his body.

Rising with difficulty, he looked about him. He soon realised that someone had rebuilt his head, although not perfectly – there were gaps in his memory and his teeth felt funny. He was even standing in the place he had died, the doorway to Flingon’s bar. Looking inside now, he saw the fat friendly face of the barkeep, although less fat and definitely less friendly. There was a peculiar grey colour to his skin, and as Azrael watched, a gobbet of slime slid out from his nostril, then turned and crawled back inside. “You too, eh?” Flingon said, and with a gasp of horror Azrael rushed before the large mirror that hung on one of the walls.

He was a zombie.

Hearing footsteps behind him, he turned, and saw Ztef’n standing behind him. He looked back at the mirror, but the Wizard left no reflection. “We need you,” he said quietly, and Azrael knew that he had been called back for a reason. “I am making an army, to march upon The Tower and rip it apart,” the Wizard explained. “You two will be a part of that.” Flingon grinned and held up a cleaver. “To victory!” he shouted, and bought the weapon down hard on the counter. The Wizard grinned, and taking Azrael unflinchingly by the arm, led him outside, where a crowd awaited, at least several hundred. They were all zombies, rotting yet moving and experiencing life like a living person. He looked at Ztef’n, and felt afraid.

*

Radagast stepped back from the giant forest warrior, who fixed him with a stony glare. “What is your purpose in the Forest Ov the Impaled?” he asked. Another stepped up besides him, “Answer our leader Skartasis, fag!” he said in a loud, shrill voice, and was hushed down by the others. “Forgive young Husker his rudeness,” apologised the one called Skartasis. “He was not always of our ways. We found him in the forest as a child, and bought him up. Although at first he called us names and tried to run away, in time he became one of us.” Dead Machine stepped forwards, and said, “Hails, Lord Skartasis ov the nevermost black! I, Dead Machine, formerly known as Masheen, salutes you in the name of the night empress and queen of the netherworld, and crave gracious indulgence for our thuggish trespassery. We ignobles are veridaciously travelling to the foul city of Opeth to wreak vengeance on the vermin, and seek only to pass through the forest.”

The forest-dwellers went into a little huddle, and the robot whispered, “I used to know this girl…” to Radagast, who was staring at him in astonishment. He looked around to see what Rio was doing, and saw that he had walked up to one of the facepainted ones, who was watching him cautiously. Lifting up his arm, Rio made the head rise up and look into his eyes. They stared at each other for a moment, and then Rio’s head flopped and fell. He gasped in pain, and holding it up with his other hand, saw that a red liquid was running out of the creature’s eye sockets. He screamed, and as everyone watched in amazement, the creature melted into a red slush. Rio collapsed on the ground jerking, eyes rolled back and frothing at the mouth. Radagast quickly went to him, but Skartasis stood in his way. “Bring him to the healers’,” he commanded loudly. “We shall offer them our hospitality.”

They unrolled a stretcher, and carefully placed Rio upon it, before lifting him and setting off, waving at the other two to follow.

*

Bastard was hungry. He had been wandering the hilltops for weeks, not daring to go back to Radagast and Rio after he had tried to kill his friend with the spear. He still didn’t know what had come over him; suddenly, he had felt such an all-encompassing hatred for his friend that if he hadn’t have tried to stab him he would have strangled him with his bare hands.

He hadn’t eaten for several days, except for what roots he could find in the cold ground. Inside, he knew that he was in trouble, as the weather was turning cold. A quiet sob escaped his lips as the first flakes of snow began to fall…

*

Iyzor lifted his head. Far off, someone had shouted. He listened carefully, and was rewarded with a scream, cut-off halfway through. Crast, his guard, turned to go out and see what was going on, but at that minute a figure appeared in the doorway and stabbed him in the face. He fell heavily, and with a sinking heart the Wizard recognised his rescuer as none other than the Bishop Kathaarian. There was a strange smile on his face, and his voice made him tremble. “If I thought for a moment that I could get away with cutting your throat here and now, Traitor, I would do it. But alas, the story about your foul kidnapping by the vile wretches who are now being slaughtered like diseased cattle has already passed around. So, I’m just going to have to be as careful with you as I can, especially after this traumatic ordeal you’ve been through. You might even need some time in the Asylum to recover!”

“What have you done with the Princess?” the Wizard asked feverishly. Kathaarian grinned hatefully. “I have her where I want her,” he said. “Now, we had better get you to a doctor…”

To be continued…

Wooo, selfishness payed off!

I'm the leader of The Forest of Impaled? Nice

We take it we're as powerful as a 100 zombies Zad? We don't want to be on the same level with those bar losers ;)

Although the band is not that awesome...

This story is like a collection of everything that kicks ass. From zombies to robots. And stuff.

Plain servitude was never Tlaloc’s forte. Although on the outside he was a Noble Knight, rescuing maidens in peril, defending the faith, all of that, yet on the inside he was a seething mass of hatred, eagerly awaiting the day when he could cast aside his mask and take on the world. It was partly for this reason that he had taken up so easily with Bishop Kathaarian – it gave him the outlay for a bit of good old-fashioned sexual assault and murder.

He was following orders for the moment, but would wait for his moment, and then grab it with both hands. From the day of his birth, when all the stars were in their correct astronomical positions and the village witch-woman had fainted in religion-induced terror at the sheer size and shape of his birthmark, he had known that his destiny was not just to be another sheep, blindly following others.

All this and more passed through his mind as he sat perched daintily aboard his faithful Giant Eagle Hugo, lazily watching the people far, far below crawl over each other like ants on a dunghill. He contemplated dropping a rock from up here, and then flying down to see how large a crater it made (and how many heads it had caved in on its journey – if you were careful and dropped it over a high building, it was amazing how many heads leaning out of windows you could take out) but dismissed the idea. Word was, the Bishop wanted him to transport the heavily ill Wizard Iyzor to the Asylum to begin his treatment for the terrible shock he had undergone after being kidnapped by the revolutionaries. At the current moment, their battered bodies were being put on display, even the women and children’s. After all, any company that was willing to use innocents to do their wicked deeds deserved nothing better than being treated like animals.

Receiving a beep on his buzzer, he put Hugo into a dive, swooping down towards The Tower to receive his charge.

*

Radagast watched the face of his friend as he went through more contortions. Since their arrival in the Castle Ov The Impaled, everything had been a blur, people rushing here and there, all with the same white paint, men, women and children alike. They had taken Rio to a strange old man who, after checking his breathing, sat down next to him and began to yowl in an uncomfortable manner, eyes rolling back in his head and foaming at the mouth just as he did after staring into the warrior’s eyes. It had gotten so bad that he had to leave after a while, and when he returned several hours later he seemed to be asleep. During his absence another old man had carefully sewn his nose back on to his face, and after plastering some black mud on, assured him that in a few days’ time he would be as good as new.

Rio heaved himself upwards again, flailing at nothing, and he looked questioningly at the old man, who bared his teeth in a savage grin. “Is asleep,” he said. “Dreaming bad things.” “Shouldn’t we wake him?” he asked. “No! Is good to face fears,” the old man scoffed. Dead Machine was waiting outside, playing with the local children, who had never seen a robot before. The last Radagast had seen of him, he was allowing them to paint his face in the same manner as theirs, causing much amusement in the process.

Feeling a hand on his shoulder now, he looked up to see Skartasis standing behind him. “You should eat,” he said to him, then turned and left. Another with him, a sprightly little fellow named Jurgen, tugged at his arm excitedly, spraying clouds of spittle from his ungainly jaw. In the eating hall, they gave him an entire pig’s head all of his own, which he set to quickly, not having eaten for a while. Although the Castle had some similarities with his old family underground home, it lacked the warmth, which was an essential part of the atmosphere there. He missed Norris, his brother, and just as he was wondering whether the forest dwellers would let him use their telephone, the colossal oaken door opened, and Rio entered.

He was very pale, and there was an empty space on the side of his head where his ear used to be. His arm was withered after the creature died, and there were still red stains where its bodily juices had dripped on him. Scratching at it absently, he walked over to Radagast and sat down next to him. Radagast tried to speak, but his friend held up a hand, stopping him. After a while, he said, “This must be what an abortion feels like,” then turned his attention to the pig’s head. He never spoke of the creature again to Radagast’s knowledge.

To be continued…

Yes, I'm back, and yes, I was serious about quitting Latt'm Land. HOWEVER, I am about to start negotiations with someone to continue it, and if all goes well you'll soon see another episode. I'm not sure that more than five of you give a shit, and really I've wasted more than enough time on it when I have a mountain of reviews to do. Anyway, watch this space...

Zad is being a meanie. :cry:

Everyone boycott Zad's reviews and spam this thread so he writes more latt'm land!

c'mon, you can't let it end with me only having one appearance! I mean, yeah, I got the first song, but I wanna do some more!!

btw, this is awesome! you should try to get it published.

Wait...you said you you were leaving the board, but you'd continue with the tale. Weirdo.

So, someone else will continue it, not you?

we could do like a joint effort, where everyone trades ideas in a thread and then we all put together each chapter... or competitions... tis is awesome, it must not die!!

Let's turn it into a "continue the story" kind of thing where each person writes one sentence, then someone else writes the next one.

I'll start:


Considering his sitatuation, the doctor Kathaarian had sent Iyzor to had been surprisingly gentle yet thorough with him, although, because Iyzor was not hurt at all, he was wondering whether the toe-sucking had really been necessary.

That's right Zad, if you don't keep writing we will butcher your story. Or at least I will. :twisted:

Here's my chapter:

THE END.

Well, well. We haven’t seen you for awhile.

What? Who are – oh. How did you get here?

You thought you got off scot-free, didn’t you? You thought you could take refuge in charcoal and Conte.

Charcoal is a bitch. What I do with my life –

Is not your concern. You know what rules you in the end.

They went away.

They didn’t go away. They just stopped being discrete.

They weren’t what fueled it, anyway.

You are correct in that. You know, you’re a tricky one. You slipped out so quietly. But it doesn’t matter now. You’re caught up again, and you’re going to make sure this gets finished.

It’s not mine! It doesn’t have any hold on –

Oh, but it does.

What are you –

There, now. Isn’t that better? You’re free from everything that’s been driving you to distraction. Isn’t that nice, not to have to worry about –

You sons of bitches. I’m going to –

“Are you sure you won’t partake of our hospitality any longer?” Skartasis frowned grotesquely at the trio, an expression that held comradeship rather than enmity, they had come to learn.

– and shove it up your collective –

“Yes. Thank you for your help, but we must be on our way. Opeth sits before us, a bright blight upon the world, and we must reach it.” Dead Machine’s voice had started to take on the peculiar grating screech that colored the voices of the forest-dwellers. It seemed to reassure them.

– with low-grade sandpaper!

My, such a fiesty one. Maybe if he had had some of that fire in his belly, things wouldn’t have turned out this way. So unfortunate.

What are you – oh, my God! What did you do to him?

Nothing at all. Some people just can’t handle it. Takes too much out of ‘em.

Who are – ?

Nevermind. It’ll be ok.

“Then may the darkness speed your path.” Skartasis and the others melted into the forest, gone as silently as they had emerged. They had brought Dead Machine, Rio and Radagast as far as the forest’s edge, and they stood looking out upon a wide plain. Curiously, although the sky was clear, the horizon was obscured; their eyes seemed to slide around it, so that the land and sky continued until they wrapped around to the beginning again.
“We’re entering the Epic Lands now,” said Dead Machine. “This should prove interesting.” His voice was already free of the affected screech, and they wasted no time in setting off across the gently rolling landscape. Radagast glanced at Rio’s arm out of the corner of his eye. It was a white, dead thing, hanging uselessly at his side. The forest healer had said it would remain that way forever, but had refused to remove it, saying that we had to have reminders of the darknesses we embrace. Radagast quickly looked away before Rio could catch him at it. His thoughts were interrupted by a distant clatter of steel meeting steel. The trio looked up to see two knights dressed in elaborate, shining armor and mounted on chargers, locked in battle. They were yelling at each other, but were too far away to make out any distinct words.
“It doesn’t matter what they’re saying,” said Dead Machine, answering their unvoiced question. “They’ve been fighting the same battle since the beginning, for the same reasons. Only the ornamentation ever changes.”
“Why are they fighting?” Rio felt a spark of interest stir in him. He had been very subdued since being treated by the healer, and was a little surprised to find it.
“For True Metal. Neither of them opposes it, of course, that would be foolish, especially in their eyes. But this is how they express it. Countless scores have shed their blood this way.”
Radagast opened his mouth to make an objection, but thought of his own indoctrination into the ways of True Metal. “Are they being forced to fight?”
“They say their burning will compels them.”
“What does that mean?”
“No one knows.”
Rio’s mouth twitched at that, but he said nothing. They passed out of sight of the dueling knights.

You shouldn’t be here.

Shut up. It’s not my fault. You’re the one who let them get so much power in the first place. Don’t you know anything about keeping those sorts under control?

I can’t do it anymore.

Well, that’s why they found me, isn’t it?

How?

An old door I thought I’d locked. It doesn’t matter. I’ve withstood better and stronger than the likes of them. Hell, this should even be fun.

I can’t…

*sigh* Men.

To be continued…