Akebo
2010-04-12, 01:29 PM
Fanfiction time! :D
a/n: So I got bored and started writing...something. The beginning is a random thing I wrote and then it sort of...erm...evolved into a MapleStory fanfiction. Everything's left open to both interpretation and correction. If you feel something needs to be changed/there are errors or whatever, go right ahead. Also, I roast my marshmallows with flames. <3
Hero
A MapleStory Epic
Part One: Maple Island
Chapter One: Level 1
The truck moved slowly through the rainy waters, climbing slightly higher through the rough downpour. The slight squeal of the tires on pavement resounded through the chatter of nervous conversation inside, where a dozen-odd children sat huddled in small groups. They were newbies for sure, easily recognizable by the tight wolfhound hunger of their features; sunken cheekbones and round, tight stomachs, the muscles of wiry youth sat quietly with them. They were not adventurers, at least not yet. Still, the prospect of being an explorer was a shiny bubble of hope beyond the many doubts and fears of the prenatal society these youngsters found themselves in. Still they chattered away, expressing both fears and doubts and exchanging them with an almost quiet reverance. They were; quite simply, beginners.
One of them, a young kid with shaggy black hair, sat with a quiet expectance and an air of annoyance, as if the whole situation seemed to be grating on his last nerve. Still, he kept a blank face and ostensibly refused any conversation thrown his way. But packed like rats they were, so he was forced in on some of the conversation around him. He tuned in and out of it; at least he picked up some entertainment while he was here.
“—and I hear that there are dragons, actual dragons in Leafer!” one of the kids was saying.
“Nah…I hear most of them are either wyverns or the bones of dragons re-animated through dark magic,” said another kid, a young girl with braided hair. “And it’s Leafre, not Leafer.”
“I don’t care!” said another. “When I become a Hero, they’ll all find their way on the end of my blade!” A chatter of a confused mix of approval, admiration, and envy rose among the kids, and suddenly the conversation turned to the prospect of jobs.
“I’m gonna be a Night Lord!”
“Bishop!”
“What are you going to be?” a voice by his side asked quietly. Artemis, only really half-paying attention at this point, was somewhat surprised when the question was directed at him. He turned his gaze from the metal interior of the truck and fixed it on a young boy, around his age. This kid looked less starved than the others; still disquieted with the same white-shaken fear but a brightness behind his gaze that spoke of either great bravery or great ignorance. Despite the hope they might have talked about, the wonder and amazement, they all knew deep down the difficulty of what they were about to do. People died from this. And not just being an official Adventurer; they died in training as well, the very training they were a few minutes away from.
“I…am not sure,” Artemis admitted when he finally found his voice. It was smooth and rough at the same time, but held a steady, unwavering determination. “I was hoping to become a Paladin, some day.” The other kid nodded.
“Well, I’m gonna be a Dark Knight!” he crowed, his face relaxing into a cheery smile. Artemis ‘mmm’d’ and settled back to stare at the wall. They sat in uncomfortable silence before the other boy broke it.
“They call me Kit,” he said. Artemis swung his head towards Kit, a small grin playing at the edges of his lips.
“And you can’t get them to stop?” Kit made a face.
“Noo, it’s my name. What’s yours?”
Artemis considered him for a minute. “Artemis,” he said after a while. Kit glanced at him.
“Sounds dark,” he said slowly. “Most kids with names like that grow up to be a thief of some sort.”
“I find no honor in fighting in the shadows,” replied Artemis.
“Nah, me neither,” Kit agreed. “So what made you decide to come out here?”
“It was time,” Artemis shrugged. “I needed to start my own story.”
“Me too. It’s my turn to add to the Angelise family name.”
“Kit Angelise?”
“Never said my parents were poets.”
Artemis said nothing but listened to the dull pitter-patter of rain pounding the aluminum truck. Kit looked at him expectantly, earnestly, and opened his mouth to say something when the squelch of the tires drowned out all conversation. The truck was thrown into complete silence. Without the mindless chatter it was easier for Artemis to see how scared these kids were: chalk white faces and fear-frozen eyes bulging slightly over purple blotchy skin. These kids looked like death, Artemis thought grimly. And he wasn’t too far behind.
They all listened as the pounding from the rain stopped and the truck stopped completely, coming to rest with a forlorn sigh of heaving metal and burnt rubber. The kids inside huddled closer together, seeming to realize for the first time where they were. Flirting with death was something no kid should have to live through, Artemis decided. He stood up, a tall and sharp profile against the white of the kids’ faces that gleamed in the meager lights on the ceiling of the truck. Striding over confidently, he staggered when the truck lurched once more and a panel slid to the side to reveal a narrow pointed face and long, oily hair. Artemis stepped back as the face proceeded into the truck, sweeping around to look at the stark-frozen fear of everyone. Artemis noticed that Kit stared back, managing a small smile.
“Hello kiddies,” the face said, retreating back outside before the panel was slid completely back, revealing a large opening. Outside the day was gray-white with storm clouds. The sudden burst of light shocked and dazed Artemis for a moment before he adjusted and stared back with intent curiosity.
“I’m Roger,” the face explained, his blue hair tied back into a ponytail. Underneath the green poncho he wore a red track suit. Artemis eyed him over a few times with a silent curiosity. The man, to him, seemed nothing but strange. “Welcome to Maple Island,” said Roger, moving aside to gesture outdoors. Behind him a mushroom-shaped home stood, and to the left of it was a pathway that led further north. “These are the training camps.”
Artemis was the first to leave the truck, eager to stretch his muscles after a four hour truck ride from MapleLeaf Station, where the train had let them off. At least on the train he could sleep. Not with a truckful of scared newbs.
“I’d imagine you’d want to get started right away,” Roger said, moving a blue lock away from his face, tucking it behind an ear. “But unfortunately the rain says something different. So for now we’ll assign the necessary tents and training regime. It’s not going to be easy kids. This is a boot camp. We’re training you to be able to survive in the outside world, so prepare for plenty of blood and sweat.” Artemis scoffed. Of course, training like this was always about life or death. That went without saying for what most of them will be doing: killers for hire.
“So. The tenting arrangement. Angelise, Kit. You’ll be bunking with…”
-----
“I can’t believe we’re bunking together!”
Artemis sent Kit an irritable look as he unrolled his sleeping bag, patting down the blanket and quietly stuffing the pillow and any other possessions he needed. He packed light so it was nothing more than toiletries and an old, worn book. Kit was putting his things away as well, packing as lightly as he could. He moved beside a cloth and revealed a long, polished spear.
“Ain’t she pretty?” he cooed, running his hands down the glossy exterior of the blade.
“I suppose,” said Artemis languidly as he slid into the bedroll and stretched like a cat.
“I can’t use the weapon yet…I promised my family I wouldn’t try to use this until I felt ready.”
When Artemis didn’t respond Kit frowned but didn’t elaborate, opting instead to re-wrap his spear and place it behind him.
“Let’s get some sleep,” he said, rolling over to face Artemis. Artemis looked up and nodded.
“Training starts tomorrow. Early.”
“Our new lives start tomorrow. Early.”
For some reason that brought a smile to Artemis’ lips as he curled into himself and fell asleep.
---
“State your name.”
Artemis blinked in confusion as he stared at the man behind the counter.
“My…name? Artemis,” Artemis answered. The man grabbed a graying clipboard and drew a line with a quick sharp jab of pencil. Reaching behind him, he grabbed a package off of a counter and tossed it to Artemis, who caught it easily. He gripped the plastic package, tearing it open with a jerking motion before settling down to examine the contents. He pulled out a gray t-shirt, shorts, and a pair of sandals. Holding up each item in blatant confusion at the man behind the counter, the man shrugged.
“Standard dress code for all beginners.” Artemis nodded slowly as he unfurled a jumpsuit. Puke green with a matching hoody that was meant to cover everything but his face. Distinctly horrified and somewhat sick, he found a stick to hold the jumpsuit up by.
“There is no way in hell I’m wearing this,” he said. The man behind the counter bit back a grin.
“You’ll have to take that up with Roger,” he said, dusting off grime-worn hands. Artemis gave an exasperated sigh at the outfit and was unsurprised when Kit bounded up to him, shuffling around the contents of the bags they were given.
“A few dozen potions, a map, and a weapon of our choosing,” Kit listed, holding up a metal axe with slight disdain. “It blows that they only had three choices. No spear. What did you choose?” Artemis said nothing but stuffed the horrible torture device into his bag, slinging over his shoulder. He took a few moments to take in the scene around him.
Now that the rain had cleared up, the field was vaguely muddy but wholly green, stretching in rolling hills a few miles outward before hitting ocean. Behind him the other children from the night before were looking better with their sleep; the deep bags underneath their roving eyes had dissipated, giving way to the shiny-eyed hope, a physical longing to be done with the training and on to becoming the people they were meant to. Artemis scoffed at them. This wasn’t a game…people died in training.
Artemis moved past them, closely flanked by Kit, who apparently had become Artemis’s shadow over the one night he knew him. Artemis didn’t comment on it, but found it strangely comforting that he had at least one friend while he was here; perhaps another person he didn’t immediately find annoying. Kit, to his credit, hadn’t embodied the insipid foolhardiness the others showed yet. As if reading his thoughts, Kit swung his head to meet Artemis's, a questioning looking on his face. It slowly turned into a look of curiosity. Artemis was about to open his mouth to ask just what he was staring at when Roger’s voice echoed around the small plain they were located in.
“Everyone, this is Maple Island, and the boot camp that will decide if you’re worthy enough to move on to the second part of your training: the part where you decide exactly which job you will follow on Victoria Island. You’ll get to meet the job instructors of each of the five jobs: Archer, Magician, Pirate, Rogue, and Swordsman,” said Roger, moving between the clumps of new recruits, his voice light and cheery. It made Artemis’s hair stand on end…something didn’t match between the dullness of Roger’s eyes and the happiness in his voice, like a smile that didn’t quite reach the man’s eyes. He didn’t trust Roger.
“Your physical training will be overseen by Mai,” Roger said, sweeping his arm out to indicate a woman with long brown pigtails. Her body was muscled and toned, and she carried herself with a nervous energy like a bow about to snap; she was tense and coiled, prepared to pounce like a wildcat. She nodded at her acknowledgement, gripping a long blade at her side before relaxing, moving back next to a woman with blue hair. “You will train with all of your instructors as a group.
“Your mental training, the studies that you are to keep up in, will be overseen by Rain,” explained Roger, indicating the woman standing next to Mai. She gave a timidly gave a nervous smile and a small wave before settling back into her spot by Mai.
“Your initial training, however, will be overseen by me.” Artemis gritted his teeth, not really wanting to be anywhere with this man alone. “In the meantime you are to go over the materials you’ve been given. Paperwork, forms, whatever.” Murmurs of acknowledgement spread through the camp and they began to break, collecting their things into packs.
“In five minutes you are to report to me here,” Roger intoned to the group, turning around, his blue hair bouncing with the moment. Artemis sighed, fanning fingers through his shaggy black hair before starting to break his tent down with Kit.
---
Long a/n is long:
I do want to take a brief minute to share with you my artist's intent. I wanted to create a fanfic that would become a reflection of my own thoughts and experiences while playing MapleStory. I also wanted to take certain aspects of the game and bring a bit more realism into the situation for dramatic effect, as well as a bit of satire (which you'll notice later) about aspects of the game from the NPCs to actual players and the archetypes both mediums represent. This is how Artemis was born: through him I express my conflicts with certain aspects of the game. You'll see this a lot more in later chapters as I try to work in more of a realistic viewpoint to MapleStory.
---
Blanket disclaimer for this fanfic (will apply to this and all other chapters in Hero): I do not claim any rights to MapleStory or any associate works. Those rights belong to Wizet and Nexon, et al. I do, however, thank them for giving me a game in which to corrupt.
a/n: So I got bored and started writing...something. The beginning is a random thing I wrote and then it sort of...erm...evolved into a MapleStory fanfiction. Everything's left open to both interpretation and correction. If you feel something needs to be changed/there are errors or whatever, go right ahead. Also, I roast my marshmallows with flames. <3
Hero
A MapleStory Epic
Part One: Maple Island
Chapter One: Level 1
The truck moved slowly through the rainy waters, climbing slightly higher through the rough downpour. The slight squeal of the tires on pavement resounded through the chatter of nervous conversation inside, where a dozen-odd children sat huddled in small groups. They were newbies for sure, easily recognizable by the tight wolfhound hunger of their features; sunken cheekbones and round, tight stomachs, the muscles of wiry youth sat quietly with them. They were not adventurers, at least not yet. Still, the prospect of being an explorer was a shiny bubble of hope beyond the many doubts and fears of the prenatal society these youngsters found themselves in. Still they chattered away, expressing both fears and doubts and exchanging them with an almost quiet reverance. They were; quite simply, beginners.
One of them, a young kid with shaggy black hair, sat with a quiet expectance and an air of annoyance, as if the whole situation seemed to be grating on his last nerve. Still, he kept a blank face and ostensibly refused any conversation thrown his way. But packed like rats they were, so he was forced in on some of the conversation around him. He tuned in and out of it; at least he picked up some entertainment while he was here.
“—and I hear that there are dragons, actual dragons in Leafer!” one of the kids was saying.
“Nah…I hear most of them are either wyverns or the bones of dragons re-animated through dark magic,” said another kid, a young girl with braided hair. “And it’s Leafre, not Leafer.”
“I don’t care!” said another. “When I become a Hero, they’ll all find their way on the end of my blade!” A chatter of a confused mix of approval, admiration, and envy rose among the kids, and suddenly the conversation turned to the prospect of jobs.
“I’m gonna be a Night Lord!”
“Bishop!”
“What are you going to be?” a voice by his side asked quietly. Artemis, only really half-paying attention at this point, was somewhat surprised when the question was directed at him. He turned his gaze from the metal interior of the truck and fixed it on a young boy, around his age. This kid looked less starved than the others; still disquieted with the same white-shaken fear but a brightness behind his gaze that spoke of either great bravery or great ignorance. Despite the hope they might have talked about, the wonder and amazement, they all knew deep down the difficulty of what they were about to do. People died from this. And not just being an official Adventurer; they died in training as well, the very training they were a few minutes away from.
“I…am not sure,” Artemis admitted when he finally found his voice. It was smooth and rough at the same time, but held a steady, unwavering determination. “I was hoping to become a Paladin, some day.” The other kid nodded.
“Well, I’m gonna be a Dark Knight!” he crowed, his face relaxing into a cheery smile. Artemis ‘mmm’d’ and settled back to stare at the wall. They sat in uncomfortable silence before the other boy broke it.
“They call me Kit,” he said. Artemis swung his head towards Kit, a small grin playing at the edges of his lips.
“And you can’t get them to stop?” Kit made a face.
“Noo, it’s my name. What’s yours?”
Artemis considered him for a minute. “Artemis,” he said after a while. Kit glanced at him.
“Sounds dark,” he said slowly. “Most kids with names like that grow up to be a thief of some sort.”
“I find no honor in fighting in the shadows,” replied Artemis.
“Nah, me neither,” Kit agreed. “So what made you decide to come out here?”
“It was time,” Artemis shrugged. “I needed to start my own story.”
“Me too. It’s my turn to add to the Angelise family name.”
“Kit Angelise?”
“Never said my parents were poets.”
Artemis said nothing but listened to the dull pitter-patter of rain pounding the aluminum truck. Kit looked at him expectantly, earnestly, and opened his mouth to say something when the squelch of the tires drowned out all conversation. The truck was thrown into complete silence. Without the mindless chatter it was easier for Artemis to see how scared these kids were: chalk white faces and fear-frozen eyes bulging slightly over purple blotchy skin. These kids looked like death, Artemis thought grimly. And he wasn’t too far behind.
They all listened as the pounding from the rain stopped and the truck stopped completely, coming to rest with a forlorn sigh of heaving metal and burnt rubber. The kids inside huddled closer together, seeming to realize for the first time where they were. Flirting with death was something no kid should have to live through, Artemis decided. He stood up, a tall and sharp profile against the white of the kids’ faces that gleamed in the meager lights on the ceiling of the truck. Striding over confidently, he staggered when the truck lurched once more and a panel slid to the side to reveal a narrow pointed face and long, oily hair. Artemis stepped back as the face proceeded into the truck, sweeping around to look at the stark-frozen fear of everyone. Artemis noticed that Kit stared back, managing a small smile.
“Hello kiddies,” the face said, retreating back outside before the panel was slid completely back, revealing a large opening. Outside the day was gray-white with storm clouds. The sudden burst of light shocked and dazed Artemis for a moment before he adjusted and stared back with intent curiosity.
“I’m Roger,” the face explained, his blue hair tied back into a ponytail. Underneath the green poncho he wore a red track suit. Artemis eyed him over a few times with a silent curiosity. The man, to him, seemed nothing but strange. “Welcome to Maple Island,” said Roger, moving aside to gesture outdoors. Behind him a mushroom-shaped home stood, and to the left of it was a pathway that led further north. “These are the training camps.”
Artemis was the first to leave the truck, eager to stretch his muscles after a four hour truck ride from MapleLeaf Station, where the train had let them off. At least on the train he could sleep. Not with a truckful of scared newbs.
“I’d imagine you’d want to get started right away,” Roger said, moving a blue lock away from his face, tucking it behind an ear. “But unfortunately the rain says something different. So for now we’ll assign the necessary tents and training regime. It’s not going to be easy kids. This is a boot camp. We’re training you to be able to survive in the outside world, so prepare for plenty of blood and sweat.” Artemis scoffed. Of course, training like this was always about life or death. That went without saying for what most of them will be doing: killers for hire.
“So. The tenting arrangement. Angelise, Kit. You’ll be bunking with…”
-----
“I can’t believe we’re bunking together!”
Artemis sent Kit an irritable look as he unrolled his sleeping bag, patting down the blanket and quietly stuffing the pillow and any other possessions he needed. He packed light so it was nothing more than toiletries and an old, worn book. Kit was putting his things away as well, packing as lightly as he could. He moved beside a cloth and revealed a long, polished spear.
“Ain’t she pretty?” he cooed, running his hands down the glossy exterior of the blade.
“I suppose,” said Artemis languidly as he slid into the bedroll and stretched like a cat.
“I can’t use the weapon yet…I promised my family I wouldn’t try to use this until I felt ready.”
When Artemis didn’t respond Kit frowned but didn’t elaborate, opting instead to re-wrap his spear and place it behind him.
“Let’s get some sleep,” he said, rolling over to face Artemis. Artemis looked up and nodded.
“Training starts tomorrow. Early.”
“Our new lives start tomorrow. Early.”
For some reason that brought a smile to Artemis’ lips as he curled into himself and fell asleep.
---
“State your name.”
Artemis blinked in confusion as he stared at the man behind the counter.
“My…name? Artemis,” Artemis answered. The man grabbed a graying clipboard and drew a line with a quick sharp jab of pencil. Reaching behind him, he grabbed a package off of a counter and tossed it to Artemis, who caught it easily. He gripped the plastic package, tearing it open with a jerking motion before settling down to examine the contents. He pulled out a gray t-shirt, shorts, and a pair of sandals. Holding up each item in blatant confusion at the man behind the counter, the man shrugged.
“Standard dress code for all beginners.” Artemis nodded slowly as he unfurled a jumpsuit. Puke green with a matching hoody that was meant to cover everything but his face. Distinctly horrified and somewhat sick, he found a stick to hold the jumpsuit up by.
“There is no way in hell I’m wearing this,” he said. The man behind the counter bit back a grin.
“You’ll have to take that up with Roger,” he said, dusting off grime-worn hands. Artemis gave an exasperated sigh at the outfit and was unsurprised when Kit bounded up to him, shuffling around the contents of the bags they were given.
“A few dozen potions, a map, and a weapon of our choosing,” Kit listed, holding up a metal axe with slight disdain. “It blows that they only had three choices. No spear. What did you choose?” Artemis said nothing but stuffed the horrible torture device into his bag, slinging over his shoulder. He took a few moments to take in the scene around him.
Now that the rain had cleared up, the field was vaguely muddy but wholly green, stretching in rolling hills a few miles outward before hitting ocean. Behind him the other children from the night before were looking better with their sleep; the deep bags underneath their roving eyes had dissipated, giving way to the shiny-eyed hope, a physical longing to be done with the training and on to becoming the people they were meant to. Artemis scoffed at them. This wasn’t a game…people died in training.
Artemis moved past them, closely flanked by Kit, who apparently had become Artemis’s shadow over the one night he knew him. Artemis didn’t comment on it, but found it strangely comforting that he had at least one friend while he was here; perhaps another person he didn’t immediately find annoying. Kit, to his credit, hadn’t embodied the insipid foolhardiness the others showed yet. As if reading his thoughts, Kit swung his head to meet Artemis's, a questioning looking on his face. It slowly turned into a look of curiosity. Artemis was about to open his mouth to ask just what he was staring at when Roger’s voice echoed around the small plain they were located in.
“Everyone, this is Maple Island, and the boot camp that will decide if you’re worthy enough to move on to the second part of your training: the part where you decide exactly which job you will follow on Victoria Island. You’ll get to meet the job instructors of each of the five jobs: Archer, Magician, Pirate, Rogue, and Swordsman,” said Roger, moving between the clumps of new recruits, his voice light and cheery. It made Artemis’s hair stand on end…something didn’t match between the dullness of Roger’s eyes and the happiness in his voice, like a smile that didn’t quite reach the man’s eyes. He didn’t trust Roger.
“Your physical training will be overseen by Mai,” Roger said, sweeping his arm out to indicate a woman with long brown pigtails. Her body was muscled and toned, and she carried herself with a nervous energy like a bow about to snap; she was tense and coiled, prepared to pounce like a wildcat. She nodded at her acknowledgement, gripping a long blade at her side before relaxing, moving back next to a woman with blue hair. “You will train with all of your instructors as a group.
“Your mental training, the studies that you are to keep up in, will be overseen by Rain,” explained Roger, indicating the woman standing next to Mai. She gave a timidly gave a nervous smile and a small wave before settling back into her spot by Mai.
“Your initial training, however, will be overseen by me.” Artemis gritted his teeth, not really wanting to be anywhere with this man alone. “In the meantime you are to go over the materials you’ve been given. Paperwork, forms, whatever.” Murmurs of acknowledgement spread through the camp and they began to break, collecting their things into packs.
“In five minutes you are to report to me here,” Roger intoned to the group, turning around, his blue hair bouncing with the moment. Artemis sighed, fanning fingers through his shaggy black hair before starting to break his tent down with Kit.
---
Long a/n is long:
I do want to take a brief minute to share with you my artist's intent. I wanted to create a fanfic that would become a reflection of my own thoughts and experiences while playing MapleStory. I also wanted to take certain aspects of the game and bring a bit more realism into the situation for dramatic effect, as well as a bit of satire (which you'll notice later) about aspects of the game from the NPCs to actual players and the archetypes both mediums represent. This is how Artemis was born: through him I express my conflicts with certain aspects of the game. You'll see this a lot more in later chapters as I try to work in more of a realistic viewpoint to MapleStory.
---
Blanket disclaimer for this fanfic (will apply to this and all other chapters in Hero): I do not claim any rights to MapleStory or any associate works. Those rights belong to Wizet and Nexon, et al. I do, however, thank them for giving me a game in which to corrupt.