FireSkittlest
New member
- Sep 14, 2009
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I thought I hated writing thanks to high school English, but I've discovered that I actually quite enjoy it when I'm writing about something interesting. Can anyone take a quick read over what I have so far and give me some tips?
Introduction
A cold grey dawn found three travelers lying asleep, sheltered from the misting rain by the boughs of a great pine. A young man, Rayne, his tall frame stretched out on the wet grass, shifted in his sleep, disturbed by the ambient noise of the forest. A girl, Ferde, was curled up against one side, while another several years her senior - Nala - pressed tight against the other. All three slept not in just their clothes, but in full armour; stiff leather sheets covered by ring or plate mail, with mail-backed gloves on their hands and weapons lying within easy reach. The younger girl woke with a start, her hand scrabbling for the short, thin blade at her side, but realizing there was no danger she dropped it and stood, stretching her lithe body as her wiry muscles rippled under the skin. “Rayne!” she murmured, shaking the man by the shoulder. “Nala! Wake up.” The others woke and stretched as she had, then set about gathering their possessions. Nala and Ferde belted on their swords, and Nala strung her bow, while Rayne slung his long blade on a baldric. They cleared up their small campfire, whose embers were already as dull and cold as the dirt beneath it.
They were hunters; freelance mercenaries who tracked down any quarry their employers named – be it a person, a rare item or simply information. Their travels took them all over the country, and today they were hunting westwards, travelling through a valley pocked with marshes and quicksand, tall trees rising around them. They had been travelling this way for weeks; but today they would reach their destination.
Chapter one
“Gods!” cried Ferde. “It’s so wet! Why can’t we ever get jobs in the centerlands? It’s always mountains covered in ice, or scorching hot deserts, or swamps that get more rain than any area could possibly need!”
Nala turned away as a smile tugged at her lips. The youngest of the three, Ferde was the most vocal. While Rayne rarely spoke and Nala was merely shy, Ferde filled their days of travel with incessant chatter. To others it might be annoying; but Nala loved it, as she had always loved Ferde, since she was a round-faced toddler bouncing on her knee and first experimenting with the words she had later grown to love.
Rayne suddenly stopped, Ferde not noticing and continuing for several more paces, before she paused in her tirade to cast an inquisitive glance at Rayne. “What’s the story?” she asked.
Rayne walked up to the cliff wall of the valley, his short black hair tossing in the breeze, and called back to the others, his voice as flat as always, “The entrance is here.”
Nala and Ferde followed him to the wall and saw a thin door, cut roughly into the rock. Pitch black, they could see only a short distance down the tunnel behind it. Raising her hand, Ferde snapped her fingers and looked at Rayne. “Shall I Call some fire for light?” she asked, but he shook his head and with barely a twitch of his fingers a small blue were-light popped into being above their heads, giving off a steady glow. “Nice,” murmured Ferde appreciatively, gazing at it. “I see you’ve been practicing. Just don’t lose it and burn us all to a crisp or anything.”
The blue orb moved into the tunnel above Rayne as he strode through the opening, drawing his sword as he went, Ferde and Nala close behind with their weapons likewise readied.
As they walked, Nala quietly went through the information they had on this area; the tunnel they were in was a back-door, an escape route, for the great stone castle whose ruins were crumbling into the ground several miles away. After an attack by a warlord that killed the residents and took control of the castle, some careless soldier dropped his torch in the cellar, where a spilled barrel of strong home-brewed liquor caught fire, igniting the hundreds of other barrels in a great explosion that smashed the great walls and sent rocks and other debris thousands of feet away. The interior of the castle, which was mostly wood, was totally destroyed, and the treasure-holds were presumed destroyed as well. Nobody wanted to make sure, as shortly afterwards a colony of spyrrals which had been living in the labyrinth-like tunnels under the castle found their way up into the castle proper. Spyrrals were fearsome creatures, for all that they were barely three feet long; Twelve powerfully muscled legs allowed them to move with enormous speed and jump huge distances, and their two great fangs, each eight inches long, were wickedly sharp and could slam down with enough force to pierce the thickest armour. The trio had dealt with spyrrals before; but not in the number that must be present here, and for that they were cautious. They were to follow this tunnel to the castle and search whatever was l
Ooh, a cliffhanger already! =O
eft for an item that their employer claimed had been in the treasure-holds, and was spelled well enough that the fire could not have touched it.
Hours passed as they crept slowly along the tunnel. All was silent – even Ferde made no sound out of fear some creature would hear her voice. Eventually they came out in some kind of cellar, the walls fortunately whole around them and an open doorway above their heads the only exit; the explosion hadn’t touched this room. Rayne led them into the next room, easily leaping the eight or so feet to the floor above, Ferde and Nala following him close behind. They were lucky nothing had entered the tunnel in the long years since the castle’s destruction, but they knew they would encounter foes before they found their prize.
Rayne continued on, walking along a tunnel which frequently opened up into large rooms, when suddenly - a flash out the corner of his eye; a subtle movement in the doorway of the next room that even his keen eyesight barely de
Introduction
A cold grey dawn found three travelers lying asleep, sheltered from the misting rain by the boughs of a great pine. A young man, Rayne, his tall frame stretched out on the wet grass, shifted in his sleep, disturbed by the ambient noise of the forest. A girl, Ferde, was curled up against one side, while another several years her senior - Nala - pressed tight against the other. All three slept not in just their clothes, but in full armour; stiff leather sheets covered by ring or plate mail, with mail-backed gloves on their hands and weapons lying within easy reach. The younger girl woke with a start, her hand scrabbling for the short, thin blade at her side, but realizing there was no danger she dropped it and stood, stretching her lithe body as her wiry muscles rippled under the skin. “Rayne!” she murmured, shaking the man by the shoulder. “Nala! Wake up.” The others woke and stretched as she had, then set about gathering their possessions. Nala and Ferde belted on their swords, and Nala strung her bow, while Rayne slung his long blade on a baldric. They cleared up their small campfire, whose embers were already as dull and cold as the dirt beneath it.
They were hunters; freelance mercenaries who tracked down any quarry their employers named – be it a person, a rare item or simply information. Their travels took them all over the country, and today they were hunting westwards, travelling through a valley pocked with marshes and quicksand, tall trees rising around them. They had been travelling this way for weeks; but today they would reach their destination.
Chapter one
“Gods!” cried Ferde. “It’s so wet! Why can’t we ever get jobs in the centerlands? It’s always mountains covered in ice, or scorching hot deserts, or swamps that get more rain than any area could possibly need!”
Nala turned away as a smile tugged at her lips. The youngest of the three, Ferde was the most vocal. While Rayne rarely spoke and Nala was merely shy, Ferde filled their days of travel with incessant chatter. To others it might be annoying; but Nala loved it, as she had always loved Ferde, since she was a round-faced toddler bouncing on her knee and first experimenting with the words she had later grown to love.
Rayne suddenly stopped, Ferde not noticing and continuing for several more paces, before she paused in her tirade to cast an inquisitive glance at Rayne. “What’s the story?” she asked.
Rayne walked up to the cliff wall of the valley, his short black hair tossing in the breeze, and called back to the others, his voice as flat as always, “The entrance is here.”
Nala and Ferde followed him to the wall and saw a thin door, cut roughly into the rock. Pitch black, they could see only a short distance down the tunnel behind it. Raising her hand, Ferde snapped her fingers and looked at Rayne. “Shall I Call some fire for light?” she asked, but he shook his head and with barely a twitch of his fingers a small blue were-light popped into being above their heads, giving off a steady glow. “Nice,” murmured Ferde appreciatively, gazing at it. “I see you’ve been practicing. Just don’t lose it and burn us all to a crisp or anything.”
The blue orb moved into the tunnel above Rayne as he strode through the opening, drawing his sword as he went, Ferde and Nala close behind with their weapons likewise readied.
As they walked, Nala quietly went through the information they had on this area; the tunnel they were in was a back-door, an escape route, for the great stone castle whose ruins were crumbling into the ground several miles away. After an attack by a warlord that killed the residents and took control of the castle, some careless soldier dropped his torch in the cellar, where a spilled barrel of strong home-brewed liquor caught fire, igniting the hundreds of other barrels in a great explosion that smashed the great walls and sent rocks and other debris thousands of feet away. The interior of the castle, which was mostly wood, was totally destroyed, and the treasure-holds were presumed destroyed as well. Nobody wanted to make sure, as shortly afterwards a colony of spyrrals which had been living in the labyrinth-like tunnels under the castle found their way up into the castle proper. Spyrrals were fearsome creatures, for all that they were barely three feet long; Twelve powerfully muscled legs allowed them to move with enormous speed and jump huge distances, and their two great fangs, each eight inches long, were wickedly sharp and could slam down with enough force to pierce the thickest armour. The trio had dealt with spyrrals before; but not in the number that must be present here, and for that they were cautious. They were to follow this tunnel to the castle and search whatever was l
Ooh, a cliffhanger already! =O
eft for an item that their employer claimed had been in the treasure-holds, and was spelled well enough that the fire could not have touched it.
Hours passed as they crept slowly along the tunnel. All was silent – even Ferde made no sound out of fear some creature would hear her voice. Eventually they came out in some kind of cellar, the walls fortunately whole around them and an open doorway above their heads the only exit; the explosion hadn’t touched this room. Rayne led them into the next room, easily leaping the eight or so feet to the floor above, Ferde and Nala following him close behind. They were lucky nothing had entered the tunnel in the long years since the castle’s destruction, but they knew they would encounter foes before they found their prize.
Rayne continued on, walking along a tunnel which frequently opened up into large rooms, when suddenly - a flash out the corner of his eye; a subtle movement in the doorway of the next room that even his keen eyesight barely de