story sample (story needs title)

The cold air was everywhere, it was everything. The outcrop of a rocky shoreline was one of few things indifferent to the cold. It was midnight of the new moon. The cold black tide of the sea raged under the stormy, cloud-covered sky, thrashing against the shoreline.

Two men stood along the shoreline. They glared at each other in the light of lightning breaking through the raining sky. Within their eyes was a stare that contained nothing but hatred and unbridled rage. These meetings were rare, and never ended without blood.

One stood tall in his sand brown robe, tattered and ragged from years and years of continuous use. Along it were multiple markings and symbols, all for a specific purpose. His bare feet were indifferent to the cold, hard rock below them. Upon looking at his face, he was obviously old, very old. The wrinkles lined his face, and the skin was withered and discolored with age. His head was nearly bald, with some strands of white hair atop it, while a short, well trimmed beard added to the indication of his age. It was only his eyes, one gold and the other green, that appeared ageless.

The other who stood opposite was dressed in a fine Italian suit, as if this chance encounter was a business meeting of some sort. However, this was all he ever wore. He was completely bald, having rid himself of the last of his hair years ago. He was not as old as the robed man, he appeared just over middle aged, perhaps early fifties. He had removed his sunglasses, revealing his eyes, also ageless, one brown and one scarlet red.

The gaze they held upon each other would have made the most vicious of lions back down and cower.

The sound of the pouring rain, the cries of the thunder, and the roars of the waves was all that could be heard. Until, at last, the voice of the bearded man broke through. "John, must this really go on? Surrender to me and you may be free!"

John, the man in the suit, responded with a voice cold and bitter. "You and I both know I would never do such a stupid thing, Jpetle."

Jpetle merely shook his head. "It is not stupidity John, it is the right thing. I've bared this curse long than you, and I plan to keep holding it."

John laughed, amused. "That's funny, I was thinking the same thing."

Jpetle's stare turned cold and unforgiving. "Then make your move, Guard of Detrinon."

When the sound of thunder clapped through the icy cold air, the battle began.