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Rated: E · Fiction · Fantasy · #1421085
The start of a fantasy adventure I'v written bits of over the years.
There is a long establish and honourable tradition of starting storeys form the beginning and generally I believe it is a good idea to follow it, however for all kinds of reasons an attack upon a small village by overgrown demoniacally possessed carrots is not a good place to start this one and so I shall skip over this grave event and place the record needle of narrative down upon two survives of this raid, during a sunny day in a busy and only moderatly stinky town on the north-easterly hills of the Redhair Kingdom.
In a ricity lopsided room above a herb store Ert was bored, his girl friend Peap still asleep soundly on the straw mattress. He'd realised he wished he had a job to do some days ago which had shocked him because he'd bean told he was a lazy boy (that is to say he was when it came to house choirs or schooling but not when it came to exploring the woods or setting rabbit snares) and had enjoyed his first few days of adult relaxation. But there were no jobs in the town at the moment not unless you were a trader or a craftsmen or served bear or food to traders and craftsmen. Ert wasn't any of those things, what was he now? A adventure? A beast slayer? It seamed ridiculous to even think it. Those discriminations were for hard men covered in scars with no future to risk and no past they cared to remember, who's mistress was the road and who's only loves were there sword and the plunder it brought them. Well perhaps not all of them were like they were in the story's but he was fairly sure they weren't meant to have a fresh young face and come home (if he even went out) everyday to a cosy home and a warm broth made by there darling fiancé.
And yet he did have that scared past, and the coin in his pocket had come from killing beasts, monsters, even daemons!. He laughed at himself he didn't even dere relieve his boredom by practising with the sword incase someone saw that he didn't really know how to handle it, and worked out that he'd just bean in the right places at the right times. He still had difficultly of thinking of it as his sword it was just something that had bean at hand when that twigy thing attacked and he'd been alowed to keep (the store seeing it as good business to have a "hero" carry use there weapon). He stared at it in its holster against the wall, he didn't know what he was, he didn't know what he wanted to be or how he was going to become anything. Perhaps he could found a shrine to the god of indecision he joked with himself.
He herd a slight rustling on the straw, well theirs one thing I'm sure about he though as he looked over at Peap steering gently as her dreams slowly left her. I'm still in love.
© Copyright 2008 K.A.R.A. (owenbevt08 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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