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My Fantasy Story bits 
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Joined: Thu Dec 28, 2006 6:32 pm
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Location: Red Deer, Canada
Post My Fantasy Story bits
While I've been going through collage I took a creative writing class that has helped me write bits and piece of things, particularly a fantasy story that I have had in my head for a bit and would like to write a book with and I thought I'd share what came out of that class!

of course that does mean that when I do publish that I will have spoiled you guys of what may be some of the best bits and whatnot, so spoilers maybe?


There once was a young Dragon that flew out to seek out a hoard of treasure to claim as her own, she flew far and wide in search of one. After a time of flying (punctuated with the occasional acts of burninating an orc band or two.) she found a cave in a plateau and fell into a great slumber.
Once when she woke up, there was something new outside, but being still drowsy from her rest and figuring that it was unimportant and wouldn’t bother her, she turned over and went back to sleep. When she woke up, she looked out from her cave and the thing had grown and changed into something new. After she had had another sleep and had woken up again, she found that the thing had grown and changed again. Occasionally after waking it she would pretend to be a part of it, to see and find out what it was. It was so interesting and magical, like a treasure that grew and changed like a bag of gold becoming two bags of gems, that she she realized, that this was surely a great magical treasure that was worthy of a dragon’s hoard!
Then one time she awoke and the thing outside was quiet, cold and empty. Going out, she had an awakening regarding her treasure, it didn’t grow and change, it was instead replaced, that instead of becoming two bags of gems, the bag of gold rotted away and was replaced by those gems, and now, her whole treasure was rotting away, for her treasure was a town, and the plague had come.


“You, have harmed my hoard.”
Everyone stopped, stopped in fear and turned towards what had been the tower as the unmistakable sound of an angry dragon echoed from its rubble. A glow came from within as tonnes of broken wood and stone shifted aside to reveal… Isha the half-elven midwife?
Althalos blinked, and then widened his eyes as it was in fact Isha that pushed aside the rubble and walked towards the assembled host of orcs as well as the warlock at their head. As she walked, what struck Althalos most wasn’t her hair becoming blood red, or the scales that appeared across her cheeks and ears, but rather how her eyes, that had previously been a cheerful amber, had become the color of the gold of a mercenary’s pay.
The warlock took a half step back as the very angry woman walked towards him, his senses like everyone else’s screaming in fear at the presence she was radiating. “Great Dragon, we have not touched any treasures here, we have no quarr-” the warlock hurriedly tried to say before Isha cut him off.
“Wrong. This village is my nest, its fields my gold and its people my jewels . And you. Are. Harming. It. All. and I will remind you all that when dealing with a dragon, you DO. NOT. TOUCH. A DRAGON’S TREASURE!


“Oh!” Ayleth let out as she neared the clearing, intending to take a bath, but from the pile of equipment leaning against a tree indicated that someone else had beaten her to it. It had only taken a glance at the shield to figure whom it was.
“Ah, Merek?”
An ‘ack’ barked at her left, signifying her long-time friend’s location. Then a quick call of ‘’m indecent!’ informed here that he probably wouldn’t want her to look his way.
She walked forward and knelt at the pile of his things, the simple but dependable spear, the proud sheathed sword, and the folded armour.
A frown came onto her face as she brought up a finger traced along the many, many lines that crisscrossed his kite shield.
“Your shield has been through quite a bit I see..” she murmured
“Just means it’s doing its job, every scar there is a scar that those it protected did not receive.” He said, moving in her peripheral vision getting his clothes together. From his hopping movement he was apparently getting his trousers on.
She stood up with a soft snort. “you’ve been on quite a few adventures since we were…” she had noticed his back was turned she impishly stole a glance. Her voice then died off, cutting off her remark as her eyes fell upon his back. She had thought that his shield had been incredibly scarred, but the lines that were on the wood had nothing in comparison to the amount of lines that etched Merek’s flesh. For a few moments Ayleth could swear that there wasn’t a patch of unblemished skin upon his back.
It was at this point that her sudden silence registered to Merek who glanced back to Ayleth and saw her frozen, her face twisted in an open display of shock and horror. It took him a moment and a slight further craning of his neck to figure out what she was looking at.
“Oh, forgot about that.” finally was how Merek responded.
Ayleth’s eyes snapped up to his, incredulation crawling onto her features at his tone, it,... he had honestly sounded like this had been a mere slip of the mind, like it was something of little consequence. Then he half turned towards her and the incredulation fled, a hand drifting to her mouth as the front of his torso was just as scarred- no, even more so- than his back had been.
“Merek! You forgot!? How could you-?!” words failing her and she took a step towards him, trying to see, to understand how in only a few short years he could have become so scarred and then could treat it like a scraped knee gained from a childish scuffle.
“Well, They’re just mean that I’m doing my job.” he started “every scar here is a scar that those I protected did not receive.” he said with a shrug and a calm smile.
Her head made an aborted turn right, but could not turn fully away from those countless scars. It was then that the shock on her face followed her incredulousness and left only horror as she realized how he could treat himself as just a shield. And who it was that made him like that.

It was her. It was all her fault.


Tirithon quirked an eyebrow.
“You heard me, do you want to spar?” Merek said as he secured a sparring sheath to his sword, “It’ll be far more effective than just drilling by yourself.”
“I have the feeling this is just another attempt of yours to get me to ‘lighten up’” Tirithon commented tiredly.
“So what if it does?” Merek replied with a carefree shrug. “Can you tell me that sparring with your fellow paladin’s was not more effective than drill when your were training?”
“It was, but then they were at the same level as me.” Tirithon answered in a level tone
Merek merely smirked in reply, the smirk then growing to a toothy grin at he saw Tirithon preparing to spar as well. A cheer to the side turned the man’s and elf’s heads as they saw Ayleth and Isolde watching them with Leofrick sitting behind them with his face in a tome as usual.
Ayleth huffed at Tirithon’s look, “What? This looks to be an interesting!”
Merek could almost see the effort it took the elf to suppress rolling his eyes, especially when Ayleth’s calls of “go Merek!” started. Merek stood in a ready position, bouncing on the balls of his feet. That is until a call of “go Tirithon!” made him pause and turn with a raised eyebrow.
Isolde gave him an amused look back. “What? Were you thinking I was going to let this cheering be one sided?” Merek snorted and turned back and raised his shield out in front of him, his sword held horizontal point forward over his head.
“When you’re ready Tir.” he called to Tirithon.

A snarl echoed in Tirithon’s mind; the human was now giving him a nickname. That was it, he’d show the cocky man his place. With his elven speed and agility Merek wouldn’t even see the blows coming. With this in mind Tirithon rushed forward, his longsword swinging diagonally for the junction of Merek’s shoulder and neck
His eyes began to widen as his sword brushed the opposite shoulder he was aiming for. His elven senses were the only reason he could really tell one event that followed from the next. The first strike hit the back of his knees, folding his legs beneath him, the next blow his him square in the stomach, driving his breath out even through his armor and folding him, the last one hit the back of his helm and then he was tasting grass.
Tirithon rolled over from his rather humiliating pose that the strikes had left him in and scrambled up to see Merek standing back, Much more wary now, Tirithon returned to a guard position and began circling. Merek banged his shield and mirrored the elf’s movements, shield up and leg forward. Tirithon, spotting a heavier footfall of Merek’s, charged back in for a thrust, but even though it should have been too fast to see, the shield pushed his sword up and it slid across the rounded top to slide past Merek’s head. A flash of color yanked Tirithon’s eyes away from his sword to see Merek’s sword emerging from behind the shield, driving for his head. Between his forward momentum and Merek stepping into the thrust meant that avoiding the blow was a rather dodgy question. Desperately Tirithon twisted his sword to bat the shorter sword away, or rather attempted to as when he started pulling the sword back Merek pushed his shield forward and away from his body, pushing his sword in the wrong direction. Merek’s sword then struck Tirithon’s cheek plate and slide along his helm.
Finally managing to check his momentum, Tirithon withdrew fast, but to his consternation Merek followed, his thrust suddenly whipped into a blinding cut. It was here as Tirithon frantically attempted to parry blow after blow that he realized what was going on. Somehow, Merek was starting his counters before Tirithon even began his moves.
He finally opened a gap between them.



Fri Jul 14, 2017 2:09 pm
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