Author's Note: So most of you reading this will be fellow GCers, but for those who have stumbled onto this unawares, allow me to explain. These are the exploits of my characters from Green Cloaks LARP, owned by Trinity Games. I have not put this on because I don't actually think there's a LARP section on there, and also because I want to keep this separate from my actual fanfic. The world is the property of Trinity Games. The Point of view characters are mine. Other characters belong to other people. Basically, I'm not making dolla dolla, this is just up here so that I and other people can keep track of what I've written. Enjoy reading, and if you don't LARP you should totally try it out sometime.

This first piece features my current character, Morveren Fealoke.


The Fall of Al'Azif

January, 6012

It was the bombs which woke her.

The dull thuds of far off explosions echoing through the night stirred her from her dreams and had her scrambling to the window to stare out into the dark streets. The city was glowing; not with the soft white light of the energy saving lamps that dotted the streets of Al'Azure, but with a hot, red angry gleam which sent a shiver of fear through her. The One Bakkar had been weeks away, she'd been told, messages had been sent to Melrose, asking for aid, for the means to evacuate the citizens of an entire continent. Refugees had been pouring through the city for days, heading to the port, but there weren't enough boats to take them. And now, as Morveren stood at the window staring out into the city and heard the screams of terror, she knew that they had vastly underestimated their foe. The red hot burst of fear that spread through her at the thought sent her scrambling for her clothes. She pulled on yesterday's trousers, shirt and her thickest jumper, yanked on her boots and ran across the landing to her mother's bedroom. She hammered on the door, and when she received no answer, she burst in. It was empty, the bed unslept in. Was she downstairs? She thundered down the steps, nearly tripping and falling head-first in her panic, but she managed to catch herself.
"Mum?" she called, running into one room, and then another. The house was empty. She must have been up at the University, working late on her project as she often did when she couldn't sleep.

"Shit," she whispered under her breath, before grabbing the emergency kit they'd prepared days before, when they'd first heard about the One Bakkar from the refugees that started filtering into the city. How had their forces got here so fast? They'd expected that it would take them some time to take most of the South, but here they were, already in the South East. She swung the kit over her shoulders and tentatively opened the front door. Her street was full of people running for the ports, many in their nightwear, some crying, some screaming, some in shocked silence. She joined the crowd, but instead tried to push her way back, towards the University, which was only a few blocks away. It was hard work, the flood of people in front of her didn't want to part, but she managed to make steady progress until a nearby blast sent her sprawling. People around her began screaming more than ever, and someone trod on her hand as they ran past. She swore viciously, managing to regain her feet, scared of being trampled. She began to run, her hand throbbing with pain, and she prayed that it wasn't broken. As she neared the University, the streets became clearer she realised why when she turned a corner and saw where the bomb had hit. There was a massive crater in the centre of a row of destroyed houses. She took a step forwards and something squelched under her foot. She looked down, and saw the body of one of her mother's students, her lower body missing, her intestines spilling out onto the ground under Morveren's boot. Morveren managed to stagger several paces away from her before she dropped to her knees and vomited, her throat burning, her hair falling in the sick. She managed to climb to her feet after a moment, her eyes watering as she lurched through the gates of the university, which had been blown off of their hinges. She broke into a run as she entered the technology building, bounding up their stairs and bursting into Lab C. "Mum?"

The room was empty, glass vials smashed on the floor, papers everywhere. She headed through a door, into her mother's office, but here too, paper was strewn all over, folders knocked off of their shelves. She was staring around, a terrible feeling of helplessness washing over her, when she heard heavy footsteps approaching. Much too heavy for her mother. It felt as if the blood in her veins had been replaced with molten lava; her limbs felt hot and heavy. She could taste the metallic tang of fear in her mouth, or maybe it was blood; she had bitten her lip so hard that it had split. She looked around desperately for a hiding place, and ran to the cupboard, shutting the door behind her. It was dark and small, crammed full of filing cabinets and bookshelves. She worked herself into a small alcove behind a cabinet and stayed still, her heart pounding, thanking the seas that, at thirteen, she was small and skinny enough to fit. The footsteps grew nearer, and she could tell that the owners had entered the lab. She bit her fist to stop herself sobbing, and more blood began to trickle down her wrist. Whoever they were entered the office, and she heard them talk to a companion in a harsh, guttural voice. She couldn't tell if they were speaking the common tongue or not, she was in too much terror to try and decipher their words. The door to the cupboard swung open. She didn't dare breathe as light spread through the cupboard. A great, shadowy figure filled the doorway, and from where she sat, crouched in the corner behind the cabinet, all she could register was their size. They spoke again, in that guttural voice, before closing the door. Morveren felt dampness spreading down her trousers and realised that, in her fear, she had wet herself. Shame spread through her, red hot and prickly, although it was not as strong as the fear still pounding through her veins. She heard the footsteps receding, but it was not until ten minutes after they had gone that she dared stand up, stretching out her cramped limbs. It took her a while to open the cupboard door. She was scared that they'd seen her, that they were waiting for her, that this was a cruel joke. She finally managed to turn the handle and peered around the edge of the door. The office, and the lab beyond were deserted. She headed out, carefully at first, but when she was out of the lab building and saw the empty courtyard, she ran. She ran through the streets, past craters, and pools of blood, and burning buildings, past the injured, screaming for help. Their cries chased her as she sprinted, taunting her, and she was crying as she ran, nearly choking on the vomit which burst from her mouth and down her front, too scared to stop to throw up. She saw the harbour ahead and her pace quickened, although she hardly knew how that was possible. She reached the harbour and stopped. The boats where gone. Even her aunt Nessa's boat. The harbour was deserted and she was trapped. She took a deep breath, and chocked on residue vomit, and fell to all fours to throw up again, although by this point there was nothing coming up but bile.

"Girl!"

She looked up, half blinded by tears.

"Girl, here!"

A hand pulled her to her feet, and began dragging her down a set of stone stairs. Wiping her tears away, she saw an old fisherman, who she'd seen around the docks a couple of times.

"In you get, girl," he said picking her up and swinging her into his boat, which had been moored just around the corner. "You're one lucky kid. I'd just about given up on anyone else arriving when I saw you tearing down the street like that."

Morveren sank to the floor, staring up at him in disbelief as he started the engine. She looked around and saw that there were other passengers on board as well, a woman clutching a screaming baby, a boy she knew from school, about ten other faces which all blurred together as tears filled her eyes again. As the boat began to pull away, she turned around, staring back at Al'Azure as they pulled away. Her fingers clutched the edge of the boat, her left hand throbbing painfully, as she stared at the burning city as it dwindled away into the distance as they pulled out of sight, the screams of the dying echoing in her ears once more, even though she knew she was too far away to hear them, or help them now. As they moved further and further away from shore, she blinked her tears away, her eyes hardening. Morveren Tregereth knelt in that little fishing boat, covered in vomit and piss and blood and silently vowed to herself that she would never stop until the One Bakkar were annihilated, and her home was free once more.