Battlelord Mateus Kelborn

Equite 3, Rogues, Force Disciple, Mandalorian
212
Total Fiction Activities
29
Regular Fiction
27816 words in 29 activities
Run-Ons
0 words in 0 posts and 0 activities
Roleplaying
0 words in 0 activities
Displaying fiction activity reports 11 - 20 of 29 in total
Competition
Aftermath: Week 2 Poetry 3
Textual submission

We’re Arcona, we’re true blue
We’re Arcona through and through
We’re the best clan, so they say
Tried to go to heaven but we went the other way!

We went down! Down! Down! Down!

And then you keep chanting down until we’re done *going down*.

Competition
Aftermath: Week 3 Poetry 3
Textual submission

A betrayal now
Vengeance for Telona's death
There is no hope left.

Competition
Aftermath: Week 2 Scene Writing 1
Textual submission

There he sat. Bruised, battered, broken. The body of the Dragon of Selen, mangled beyond belief. Tarentum had not been kind to him for his insolent betrayal and they were not showing any signs of mercy yet. Someone had to, though.

Five Arconans walked through the door, a detachment from the *Nighthawk* led by Mateus as he cradled a blaster – mostly for show, truth told. So did the rest of them. The blue man’s jailor’s surrounded him, whips and batons in their hands. Both parties stopped, stared – it was just a regular old showdown now.

“Out, out!” shouted Mateus as they rushed to the barely-conscious Wuntila’s side. “This man needs medical attention.”
“And who the frell are you?”asked the nameless, faceless Tarenti.

“The medic. Leave.”

As Mateus began weaving the Force to fix what ailed the Wroonian whilst the Tarenti left, Ood looked to his long-time friend and companion. “Wuntila, you had best stop doing this to us one day, my friend,” mentioned the Neti. “You need to talk to us. They’re gone.”

“Pravus... made me an offer,”choked back the broken Consul emeritus, spitting up a mouthful of blood. “Save the Clan. Buy us time.”

Mateus shook his head. He was barely functional. “Get him back to the *Nighthawk*. Failing that, we bust him out.”

“I’ll talk to the Shadow Lady. Look after him, Kelborn.” Ood left only a moment later.

A nod from the medic, and the Arconans set to work. That was enough info. A spark of hope.

Competition
Aftermath: Week 2 Poetry 2
Textual submission

Thrill. Heart beat. Closer.
Every step, hunting down prey.
Blood will flow freely.

Competition
Aftermath: Week 3 Poetry 2
Textual submission

Pravus has a weapon
His name is Ranarr Thul
He's actually a traitor
Who played it rather cool
Pravus used him quickly
He ran a Shadesworn through
Seven seconds later
The rest of us died too
Ranarr got paid some credits
We didn't know he did
And stuck between two forces
Of us the Throne rid

Competition
Aftermath: Week 3 Poetry 1
Textual submission

Pravus has a weapon
Its name is Big and Black
It's actually a saber
He pulled it off his stack
He used it rather quickly
And ran a Shadesworn through
Seven seconds later
The rest of us died too
His saber can shoot lightning
We didn't know it did
With a mighty blinding flash
Of us he was rid

Competition
Part II: Teenage Years
File submission
PartIITeenageYears.pdf