Something New for you guys

While I myself Am not a fan of "Fan Fiction" as i find most of it rather undetailed and usually poorly writin, i do however respect the fact that people love something enough to write a story of their own about it. So dispite my not liking fan fiction, i am willing to open a section of the forums for you guys to post YOUR PERSONALLY MADE FAN FICTION(not ones made by others). if you guys are up for this idea, just PM myself or venge asking for it, and if enough people want it, i'll open a section for you guys.

I want this forum to be for you guys(while abiding by the rules lol), so i have no problem doing this for you. you guys just need to let me know that you want it.

i also want to add, dont be afraid to PM me or venge about anything guys. again, we're here for YOU, not us. if you have an idea, just PM one of us and we'll discuss it.

I would also like to take this oppertunity to show you guys, that while i may not care for fan fiction, i to am known to write stories every so often(yeah, kinda hypocritical, sue me lol). although i dont write short stories like most fan fiction is, i instead am more inclined to write full novels(i've written 3 novels sence i was 18). i would like to share with you guys the first chapter(rough draft/incomplete) of my current novel, Immortal, to show that i can be supportive of you guys writing your fan fiction. hopefully you guys can get a kick outta it. enjoy

It was late afternoon. The sun had begun its slow retreat from the approaching moon making the sky look alive with orange fire. The dining room was adorned with Numerous gaudy trinkets all around it. A large table that sat in the center, appeared to be crafted out of some odd material not normally used for making tables. Its was scale like in make up, but to large to be the scale of anything normally encountered. The dining room was quite even though several figures sat around the large center table. As the servants finished filling glasses with wine, placing cutlery and setting napkins, the room began to fill with the smell of perfectly roasted meat. The rest of the serving staff soon ushered in carrying plates sporting meat that was giving off the delicious smell that had filled the room. After setting the meals down in front of each person sitting at the table, the staff dispersed from the room save for a few who moved to the corners of the room holding pitchers of wine, ready to refill any glasses that were close to being drained.
No one had began eating yet. Instead they waited and watched a frail old man, who sat at the head of the table. His face appeared to be that of a man who had known hard work his whole life. A scar ran from from the crown of his forehead, crossing his face diagonally, to just under his chin. His head was bald, save for but a few strands of hair that spotted the sides of his head. His left eye, which was in the path of the scar, was blank and unseeing, the other deep green. He shakily cutoff a small piece of the meat ever so slowly, and placed it into his mouth and began chewing. Everyone at the table sat watching, as if waiting for his approval of the meal before partaking in it themselves.
“How is it grandfather? Is it too your liking? It may have taken me 3 hours to do so, but I managed to bring the animal down myself”, asked a young man who sat 3 places away from the old man. His face was that of a man that had never worked a day in his life, but instead, that of a man that had been given everything he wanted. His hair was ear length, and bright blonde. His eyes were a dark color of brown. He was a spoiled, dimwitted fool. His life handed to him at his asking. The old man knew all this, but he still smiled sweetly at the young man.
“Its still a tiny bit tough, the chef did have his work ahead of him, but that is to be expected when eating a wild animal like this. Kelbi should never be expected to be tender. But to answer your question my boy, yes, its just fine.” the old man said. With that said everyone else in the room began to eat as well. The sounds of forks and knives going to work, of glasses being set back on the table or refilled soon became the only sound in the room. “I'm also impressed to hear that you hunted down our dinner. We are ever so grateful that you did”. He began to chew another piece of the meat.
“I also see that you have been putting the useless things I've taught you to work my boy” the old man chuckled, “I'm glad to see you have put them to use. The Gods know your father never did”.
“I don't find those “things” useless grandfather. I find the skills you taught me to be very handy and useful. In fact grandfather, its thanks to the skills you taught me that the Guild has finally accepted my request. I'm now a licensed Hunter just like you once were grandfather.”
The old man's expression changed. “My boy, the life of a hunter is not one I wished for your father, nor you. I wish you had reconsidered and instead took up the family business.”
“But Grandfather, you know I'm not exactly the brightest of people, and thus I'm not suitable to run the family business. Asha Is more suited for that. She...”
“I know full and well that your sister is better with business then you are. But how can you expect to be a successful hunter When it took you 3 hours to bring down a kelbi boy? Wheres your sense there? Even the simplest of hunters can bag a kelbi in mere minutes.”
“I'll have you know grandfather that I'm more then capable of handling myself as a hunter. I'll

become a hunter who's name goes down into legend, into the annals of history. Unlike some other hunters” the young man said sourly
“Boy you are being a fool. You said it yourself, your not the brightest of people. Its because you aren't the brightest of people that you should not be a hunter. You Need to listen to me on this boy. I was in your position once, a dimwitted fool who thought he could be some legendary hunter. It took another to teach me I was wrong, and to show me the way without holding my hand every step of the journey, unlike you. Your a spoiled child that has never worked a true days work or known struggle his whole life. Those are not qualities of a hunter. As was explained to me, A skilled hunter is one who's mind is sharp, tactful, capable of split second decisions. Strong of body, mind and will. You need to have an open mind, a realizing of your station in things. If only the one who explained it to me was here, you would understand. The I...”
“Oh father, will you stop with that already. Those stories were fascinating and all when we were all but children, but now they're nothing but fairy tales. You need to realize, no one here is a child any longer, thus your bedtime stories hold no meaning or moral value” Exclaimed the man sitting next to him, his son.
“FAIRY TALES! Boy these are not fairy tales. Every one of those stories I told you when you were a child, are true. I have not once told you any fairy tales at bed time. Your mother may have, but not I” the Old man said furiously.
“Father, you're senile. In your old age you are beginning to confuse the stories of the “Immortal hunter” you told us when we were but children with reality. Just the very thought of an “Immortal Hunter” is preposterous. Think about father. Immortality is something found in fairy tales and legends. No man has the capacity for immortality. Suggesting the immortality is real is foolish, and you would be made a fool to even think that someone in the profession of a hunter could ever live long enough to achieve something like immortality” said the old man's son.
“How DARE YOU! You insult me at my table. MY TABLE! In MY HOUSE! A house that was built off the money I had made from all of my hunting exploits. Exploits that would never have occurred had it not been for that man. You, nor any of your children, would be sitting at this table had it not been for him. I would not be sitting here if it were not for him. I owe that man my life, as do you and your children. I do not care if you do not believe me, but to call me a fool for believing what I know. Its no wonder your son is as dimwitted as he is.”
“He may be dimwitted father, and if it takes him getting roughed up a bit during a hunt, then so be it. But none the less, he'll give up on it and take up working in the family business”
“You fool, He wont just get “roughed up” in a hunt, He could end up dead. What then? What will you do when your boy comes home wrapped up in some bed roll or doesn't come home at all. The boy is not Hunter material. You've handed him his life. You gave him everything he ever wanted. The boy doesn't have the means, and its YOUR fault. I never raised you that way. You had to work for everything, and look at you now. You have done so well, you don't even need my money to run the business. But your son will not end up the same way. I know for a fact. I was in his place, and it was the Immortal Hunter that set me straight”.
The old man's son sprang up from his chair. “Father, I love you with every fiber of my being, but I will NOT have you repeatedly insult MY son, nor will I ask you again to stop with these foolish stories of an “Immortal hunter”. Now if you'll excuse me, I am finished with my meal. I've lost my appetite. We bid you goodnight father. Hopefully by morning you'll have regained your sense”. The Old man's son began to walk away from the table, followed closely by his wife, and then his son. soon the room had emptied, save for the old man's granddaughter. Her face was fair, and complex. That of a woman who's true self could not be derived by her looks alone. Her hair was long and dark, which she kept in a single braid. She had the same dark green eyes as her grandfather, a trait no one else in her family shared with him. She had remained in her seat, ever so quietly, during the course of the debate,

either to scared to walk away with the rest of the family or just defiant of her father's treatment of her grandfather.
“You should follow your father and mother my dear. No need to stay around and listen the “ramblings” of some old fool. That appears to be all that your family thinks of me”. She sat up and crossed the room, stopping to kneel down next to her grandfather.
“Grandfather, I do not take you for a fool. I was not there to see nor experience what you have, thus I cannot debate what you say. No matter what my father says, if you say its true, then I believe you until proven otherwise.” she said to her grandfather.
“My dear Asha” the old man said, “You truly are as bright and gifted as everyone says. Its hard to believe you are sprouted from this family's stock.”
“One thing grandfather, I have heard tale rumor of a man referred to as the “Immortal hunter” while working in the shop.” she said. “Though all I have heard is rumor, and never full tale. Would you be willing to tell me of this man grandfather? Please grandfather? We've rarely have time to ourselves to talk. I was a child last time we spent any time together.”
“Oh my dear, dear sweet granddaughter, has it truly been that long? Then yes dear girl, I will tell you about him. But first, let us finishing eating our meals before the become cold. No sense in telling a story as long as this on an empty stomach. Once we are finished, we shall go to my study, and there I will tell you the story” the old man smiled at his granddaughter.
“Thank you grandfather.” she said as she stood up and kissed him on the head before heading back to her seat to finish her meal.

The Study was a large chamber, full of books and artifacts collected from all across the world. A large fireplace sat against the far wall. In front of the fireplace sat two large, leather arm chairs and a small table between them. All facing the roaring fire. Around the fireplace were the various trophies earned from numerous hunting exploits. On one side was a shelf that held a small, azure colored gemstone that glittered with a malicious beauty. Above it on another shelf, was a pair of oddly shaped crystals, each was bizarrely, and faintly warm to the touch. On the other side were many small shelves each holding a claw, horn or a flawless, beautiful scale. Against another wall sat a small work bench that, by appearance, had been neglected for some time. On the desk sat a few wilted reddish colored plants and mushrooms covered in mold. A stack of books at the end of the work bench were covered in a think layer of dust, but the wording on the spine of one could be partially seen as “s: volume 4”. The wall opposite that with the work bench, sported a Tall book shelf that was brimming with volumes and volumes of old tomes. Several Books lay about the floor in front of it, either having fallen there from old shelving finally giving way, or left there by the rummaging of the old man frenziedly searching for something. In the center of the room was a large animal skin rug. It was roughly about 3 times the size of an average man and an ugly pinkish color. Positioned on the center of the skin rug was a mannequin that was adorned with an armor set Red in color, and Royal looking in form, more then fitting for a king to wear. This was the old man's armor set.
As they entered the study, The granddaughter was taken aback by the wonders inside. This was the first time she had ever been inside her grandfather's study. One particular wonder caught her eye. A most wondrous thing that sat on the mantle above the fireplace. Its was a marvelous sword. She made her way over to the weapon, still in awe of it. She ran her fingers down the flat of the thin blade and across the beautifully crafted scabbard. It felt oddly cold in some places, and oddly warm in others. The weapon was as mesmerizing to the touch as it was to see.
The old man noticed she was admiring the sword. It made him smile to see her admire the weapon with such awe as his own son never showed interest in it. His grandson never cared for such things until recently, so he could never truly appreciate the beauty of such a thing.“That my dear, is whats know as a Long Sword. They're not normally seen around this part of the world. But they're a

popular weapon in the east. I used that very weapon on many, many hunts. I would have no other weapon beside it. I had hoped to pass it down to your father, as to keep it as a family heirloom, a reminder of where we come from, but he cares not for weapons. Your brother is to dimwitted and would most likely break the damned thing trying to cut rocks.”
“Its absolutely beautiful grandfather. I've never seen a weapon with such beauty before. It doesn't look as if its ever been used before though, and if I'm not mistaken, the spike like protrusions are from a Rathalos. I have never seen a weapon so beautiful made from Rathalos materials.”
The old man began to chuckle. “A weapon is only as good as the user. Not taking care of your weapon will get you killed. That is why it looks as if it has never been used. And right you are my dear about it being made of Rathalos, but the weapon itself isn't made of Rathalos entirely. Its also made from a fierce dragon who's hide is a strong as steel itself and who's breath will freeze a man solid. A fierce beast that changes the very weather of the surrounding area.”
“This monster you speak of. It sounds like a terrible thing. I don't see how someone could stand against a beast capable of changing the weather, and you actually fought this beast grandfather?” she asked.
“Not only have I have I fought this beast, but I was nearly killed be the beast” the old man laughed. “It took us quite a bit of relentlessness to finally fell the elder monster.”
“Was it the Immortal Hunter that saved your life from beast? Is that what you meant by you owing him your life?”
“No my dear. That battle was after he and I had gone our separate ways. Years later my dear. But that is another story for another time.” He sat down in one of the arm chairs and gestured Her to the empty chair. “Have a seat in the chair my dear and I will tell you what you wanted to hear”. As she sat down, he began his story of the Immortal hunter.
“Before I can tell you about him, you must first understand how I came to meet him. It all started decades ago when I first received my Hunting License. I was around your brother's age at the time, and just about as dimwitted. My father and grandfather were hunters themselves, so like your brother, I had thought myself more the capable of handling the job. I had set off on one of my first quests as a licensed hunter that didn't involve slaying a wild pack of bullfango or congas. Instead, I was contracted to hunt down a Yian Kut-Ku that had been attacking livestock at night. After a several days of searching, I managed to track the beast into the hills and locate where it was roosting. So I set about my plan to take care of the beast, setting a trap to ensnare it as it returned home. I waited 3 nights for the beast to return to its roost, but I encountered a problem. The problem was, this was not the Monster I was contracted for. When the farmer's had petitioned the guild, they made a mistake. They had failed to correctly identify the monster to the guild. What was supposed to have been a Yian Kut-Ku had turned out to be a Yian Garuga. The sly beast noticed my trap right away, and in its avoiding the trap, was quick to notice me hiding near by. Now I heard tales of how foul the Garuga is from more experienced hunters. I heard stories of its intelligence being on a level that was unexpected. That is was smart enough to avoid traps, and cruel enough to enjoy misleading hunters into their doom. When I realized the beast had spotted me, I knew that I was not yet ready to take on a Monster of its caliber and I ran. I ran as fast as I could, but he gave chase, almost seaming to take pleasure in it. Every so often as it would close in on me, it would thrust its beak into the ground ever so forcefully as if trying to crush or impale me with it's beak. I manged to avoid being skewered or crushed by its beak several times. It was enough times that the beast, living up to the tales I had heard about about it, had smartened up and changed it's method of attack. As it closed in on me again, instead of trying to smash its beak into me, it took into the air, flipping around backwards as it moved forward, like some kind of acrobatic performer. It caught me with its tail, lifting me up off my feet and tossing me several stones throws away on the ground. I was hurt fairly bad. As I turned over on to back to help make breathing easier, I saw the monster running right at me, destined to trample me to death.”

“I had avoided being pierced by the poisonous spines on the end of its tail, which was something most hunters don't get to avoid when struck by the it tail. But despite avoiding being poisoned, I was not going to be able to avoid its trampling me to death. I closed my eyes and gave my final prayer for I knew I was not long from this world. I was going to die because some fool of a farmer misidentified the monster that was terrorizing his cattle. I was going to die because my own inexperience telling me to run like hell when I should have tried for a distraction first. I was going to die and there was nothing I could do that would change the fact. I waited for death as the terrible sound of the beast's Feet hitting the ground grew louder as he drew ever closer and then it stopped. The pound of each step signaling my inevitable death, a death that felt as if it had been taking forever. I wasn't sure at first if this was a cruel joke that death himself plays on those poor souls he takes, or if it in fact was not my time to die and death had decided to spare my life. As I opened my eyes slowly, I knew that death had decided to spare my life. Standing in front of me, was the figure of a man who was adorned in the armor of a beast I'd never heard of at the time from a land I never knew existed. In his hands was a Hammer who's head slowly rotated in an odd manner, the only time I've seen a weapon move with automation as if alive itself. And in front of this man, lying in a crumpled heap on the ground, was the lifeless body of the Yian Garuga. Its head was crushed to a pulp and driven into the ground, almost becoming part of it”
“I backed away as quickly as an injured man lying on his back could. I was shocked by what I was seeing before me. The man in front me had appeared to be dully shining in the moon light. His armor tight fitting on his upper half, loose fitting on his bottom half, and black as the night. 2 large, red tusks from what ever beast his armor was fashioned from sprouted from the helm, The face being fully open, no doubt for improving visability. There were also 2 smaller tusks that sprouted from the sides of each of his forearm coverings. Large black Portions of the long dead Monster's carapace served as the armor plating as opposed to the smaller monster scales of other armors. His leggings resembled more so a pair of entertainer's pants in terms of size around the thighs and covered by hefty shin guards followed by sporting looking footings. His armor was crafted for mobility rather then hefty protection.
My fear had not yet left me, but I was beginning to be filled with astonishment. I was in the presence of a Real hunter. This man, adorned in an odd armor I had never seen, carrying a weapon forged with a great power as if bestowed upon it by a god, single handedly Killed the Garuga, and with the appearance of little to no effort. As I lay there admiring this God of hunters, He turned slowly to his right side, just enough to see me out of the corner of his eyes. We stared at one another for just a few seconds before he spoke. I remember his words as if they had been said just now”
“He Looked at me and said, “Fool. You should learn your station less you get yourself killed. Count yourself blessed that I showed up when I did.”

nice

While I do not have a good enough imagination to make my own fan fiction, I do enjoy reading other's fan fiction, given it is a good story. I personally think it's a good idea to open a section and try it out. If people don't use it, then close it. I'd like to read some good stories. I don't have time to read yours right now, but I will later.