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Buster Charlie, you're not making any friends.

I guess you could waive it - But i'm not sure if God would be willing to let you. Not my area of expertise.

Brian blinks in surprise at Foddercat's transformation, but he figures there must be SOME explanation for it, and he's long past laughing at people. He calms down a bit, continuing to waste the werewolves, but takes the time to ogle Foddercat a bit.

I'm quite sure they're electromagnetically shielded.

I've been thinking about Jack, and I think I've found one rule that can be used to model it slightly: The Right To Existence. In Jack, there is only one inalienable right that you are guarenteed by God: The right to existence. No matter how you may die, you will live on in the afterlife, and if you ...

Brian looks at the lurching tank, and spots the finger crawling around the edges. He turns almost white, stammering helplessly and stumbling backwards in helpless fright. "Oh no, oh no, oh God no, no no no..." He slumps against the far wall and lifts his spikerifle with shaking hands, pointing at th...

Woot! Looks like my fanfiction is already nice and canon from the looks of things. This works out great!

And you're absolutely right!

And that's the end of Chapter 1. Comments and questions? Come on, rip it apart. Nit pick me.

Adam screamed as he hurtled through the void, the endless gray.

Adam slammed in to the stony turf, his entire body rattling despite his armor shielding him from the brunt of the blow. The ground had come out of nowhere, and he heaved himself to his feet, armored hands lifting him up. With a cough he spat out one of his teeth on to the ground, the sound of its im...

It took what felt like forever for the killing to end. The screams died down, faded in to the distance - Still they waited. The peasants talked amongst themselves, worrying the subject of these two foreigners in their midst like a dog worries a bone, but eventually the two knights were forgotten, wh...

The story wasn't long, but they knew many, many stories. The eight dead men sat and spoke, and talked of things that they would never again see, like the arms of a lover, or the admiration of a brother, or the love of a mother. They would never see their grandchildren born, they would never more spe...

The greatest measure of a man is in battle. In combat, Cain said, everything good about a man shined through, as well as everything bad. Here was where he measured up. If he passed, if he was a good man, he would make it through. Poor men died. That's what Cain said, and that's what Adam was thinkin...

Of course, there is no such thing as a siege that ends the day it begins. Cain, Adam, and every other knight was forced to eventually accept that, today, no one would be killing anyone. They headed back to camp and watched the catapults do their work. The crash, crash, crash of the heavy boulders th...

It was afternoon. Adam and Cain thundered across the battlefield, side by side, in a massive throng of knights all heading for one spot, where the catapults had been barraging the wall with endless boulders and rocks and pebbles. The endless assault had formed a ramp of stones that they could charge...

When he pulled his sword out of the heart of the last archer on the wall, looking at his fellow knights around him, the bodies of the archers seemed dirty, dishonorable, and ugly, their presence unholy, their eyes wide and unseeing. He wished he could clean his blade, but he couldn't. His hands were...

A Creative Work of Fiction by Richard Hughes Certain characters, as well as the setting, are credited to David Hopkins and Katie Popp. Chapter 1: "For We Are The Best And The Bravest" A sword is a remarkable tool. Forged properly, it becomes an extension of the wielder. In the hands of a master swor...

Adam slept, then awoke with a start as Cain clapped him on the back. He looked up at Cain's face and then down at the armor. "Adam, you fell asleep on the job... Bah, don't worry about it. Is the armor fixed?" Adam nodded as he got to his feet, a vile taste of morning in his mouth. "It's fixed and p...

Cain sat in the muggy tent, the air damp with sweat. In his hand lay his war sword, an heirloom of his family, and he was polishing it dutifully, carefully shining it to a liquid gleam. Adam stumbled in, still not used to the weight of his armor, and set Cain's armor on the floor with a sigh. Cain n...