Fantasy Story (untitled)
Posted: Thu Jan 22, 2015 9:58 amby Jon
I haven't posted anything I've written in a long time, mainly because I haven't been writing. But I'll probably start writing this again, I liked the idea I had behind it, and I've been reading more fantasy lately, so yeah.
Spoiler:
Incursio
Jon Edwards
Prologue
Twilight's caliginous veil had dropped, pinned to the sky by many stars when Jomm woke in the woods. It was dark, how long had he slept? He glared at the stars that twinkled in the sky. This wasn't good. Three days ago he'd heard that Mort had been invaded and the people captured or slaughtered. No news had since come from the city. The stories were all the same; an unknown army, brandishing an unknown banner invaded the city for no particular reason. Jomm kicked a stone in front of him out of frustration.
I should have been there a day ago, he thought.
He swallowed hard. Erring had likely killed his mother, father, his brother Dayne and his nephew Olan. If they was dead, their blood painted Jomm's hands. What an idiot he had been. Rage surged inside him. He gripped his longbow tightly. The chill of the breeze on his damp cheeks made him shiver.
And it was here, that he began to laugh. This was not the laugh of a man who was happy. This was the laugh of a dangerous man who had the taste of vengeance on his tongue and nothing left to lose.
Grey smoke billowed in the distance towards Mort. His manic laughter subsided, and his old masters teachings flowed through his head like a song.
'Dark smoke signals a fire still burns,' Master Abe said. 'But white smoke means the fire has been extinguished.'
'A fire still burns,' he said softly.
He kicked sand onto the ashes of his old campfire and slung his knapsack over his shoulder, leaving the woods in search for smoke and fire.
Chapter 1: The Burning City
Jomm stood on the smooth stone bridge. He stared with wild eyes as Mort, the city he loved, burned before him. Fire licked at the castle walls and the air was thick with smoke and ash. Boiled blood and burnt hair filled the light wind with a stench. He slammed his fist onto the granite railing of the bridge.
'I should have been here,' he whispered to himself. 'I could have-' he paused.
What could I have done? he thought. Nothing.
He walked through the streets of burnt buildings and charred corpses. The smell was unbearable, and Jomm fought down the vomit that seemed so eager to come up. He coughed and choked as the burning in his throat and chest grew. Uneasiness spread through him like a plague. The streets were eerie and silent, where they once bustled and were noisy with life. The sound of footsteps broke the silence. Jomm drew his longbow off of his shoulder and nocked an arrow. His body relaxed as the scarlet feathers gently caressed his fingers with a soothing familiarity. Deep inside, he focussed on his breathing.
In, he inhaled.Out,he exhaled.
Behind him, a man stepped from behind the husk of a burnt house. His mail boots rattled and shook. As Jomm turned, he caught a flash of sunlight off the man's heavy scarlet armour.The man's chestplate bore an unfamiliar mark; a black, clenched fist engulfed by flame and a monster of a great sword sat at his hip. The man was at least a foot taller than him. His shoulders were broad, and his arms were thick with muscle. A malicious grin spread across his lips, and his deep dark eyes stared at Jomm with heated malevolence.
'Another rat comes squeaking out from a hole,' he said. 'Where have you been hiding?'
The man pulled his great sword from out of his sheath and the iron shimmered in the midday sun. Jomm's bow twanged as the arrow launched into the air, but the arrow skimmed off the man's thick plate armour. The man burst into laughter, and charged towards Jomm. With a mighty swing of his sword, he sliced at Jomm. A thin scratch opened up just beneath Jomm's left eye, as blood began to slowly trickle down his face. The man thrust his sword and tried to catch Jomm in the stomach, but it was easily side stepped by the smaller, nimbler man. Jomm released the short sword at his hip, and sliced at the back of the man's leg, leaving him hamstrung. But the man did not fall. He spun, and swung at Jomm once more. Jomm tried to parry, but the strength of the man's swing jarred his wrist and elbow, leaving his arm uncomfortably numb. His short sword slid across the sand, and the man grinned again. He lifted his sword, and began a flurry of attacks towards Jomm; chopping and hacking at the air where he had been. Jomm ducked and stepped, narrowly dodging each ruthless attack. He managed to slip behind the soldier, and planted a swift kick into the back of his hamstrung knee. The man fell to the ground, sending dust up into the air. Jomm turned and ran, distancing himself from the unknown attacker. He kept his eyes over his shoulder. He turned back, and drew his bow and nocked an arrow in quick succession. The man began to stand on shaky legs, balancing himself with the point of his sword in the dirt.
'Who are you?' Jomm asked with a fire in his voice.
The man spat.
With another twang, the arrow was loose. It struck him in the chest, penetrated his armor, and sent him sprawled onto the ground. The man gasped for breath, winded by the force. The arrow danced and vibrated and pierced the insignia on his armour. Jomm walked over, with another arrow nocked on the bowstring.
'Were there any prisoners taken?' Jomm asked, standing over the man.
'Die,' the man said through his gasps for air.
Jomm released tension on the bowstring, and gripped the arrow that stuck out of the man's knee. He pulled on it slowly, easing it out inch by inch. The man wept with pain.
'Tell me,' Jomm said.
'Yes. We took some,' the man cried.
Jomm ripped the arrow free. The man's cry echoed through the abandoned streets.
'You bastard!' the man screamed. His face writhed in agony.
'Where are they keeping them?' Jomm asked.
The man spat a wad of crimson blood towards him. Jomm glanced down at the man, and stomped his foot on his knee. The crack of the bones were almost drowned out by the scream of the man.
'I'll ask you one more time,' Jomm said, smirking.. 'If I don't get the answer I want, I will put you through hell.'
The man smiled that malicious grin again. His teeth were stained dark red as blood leaked through the cracks.
'Do you worst, rat.' he said. 'They will be tortured worse than anything you could do to me.'
Jomm's smirk disappeared. Pent up rage boiled inside his stomach and he pulled the bowstring back. The twang reverberated through his ears, as the arrow struck the man in the crotch. He howled and rolled and twisted on the ground.
'I wonder how it will feel if I pull this out slowly?' Jomm said dryly. 'I imagine it would be quite painful. Tell me, now.'
'They're in-' he stopped, grimacing with horror. 'Courtyard. Courtyard.'
Jomm released another arrow and the man's cries stopped. The arrow pierced his right eye, and blood trickled down his cheek like a calm and gentle stream down a small mountain. His body lay limp and calm, free from the writhing agony he was in.
'Thanks,' Jomm said. He walked away and left the corpse to rot in the street.
Jomm continued on down the streets slowly, sticking to what little cover there was in the dilapidated houses and shops. A familiar body made him come to a standstill.
'Olan?' he said, choking on the thick smoke. 'Olan, is that you?'
Guilt tore shreds at his heart as he rolled the charred body of his nephew over. Olan stared at Jomm with lifeless eyes. His golden hair was burnt and crisp. Cracked, blackened lips lined his mouth, which lay agape as though his last breath had been a scream of agony. A low groan escape Jomm's throat. He bit his lip, as grief took his body with a shaking force. His hands hammered the ground. Smash. Smash. Smash. Until his hands were bloody. He buried his face into his hands, and wept warm tears that fell off his chin, blackened by the ash and soot from his stained cheeks.
His face twisted with the idea of vengeance on the men who brought this upon his city and upon his family.
'I'm sorry Olan,' he choked. 'I should have been here. I should have-'
I wasn't here, he reminded himself.
He stood on shaky legs. Stomach knotting and head spinning, he threw up on the street. His throat ached and he gasped for fresh air. His head bowed with helplessness. He walked away from the corpse of the boy he had helped raise, still crying tears boiling with grief and anger.
Night had crept in over the city. A canopy of thick smoke hid the stars, but a bold, blood-soaked moon pierced the shroud and spilled an eerie luminescence onto the city. Jomm strained his eyes against the darkness, as he watched over the courtyard. Guards patrolled the ground at regular intervals. Their heads held high, as though they were proud of the feats they had accomplished.
Jomm scowled low and hard at them. The prisoners were huddled together tightly. No familiar faces jumped out at him from the darkness.
A man walked out from the compound, and into the courtyard with a burning torch. The light spread and revealed the surrounding guard, and the prisoners they kept.
'Alright you maggots,' the man said with the booming voiceof a captain, strutting around the camp like a proud rooster. 'Get on your feet, it's time to go for a walk.'
Chains rattled as the prisoners stood. Each one chained by hand and foot. Despite the torchlight, it was still difficult to make out any of the prisoners. They began to walk, but were quickly pulled to a halt. One prisoner stood tall, and proud, defying the orders of his captives. Jomm strained his ears at the murmur of conversation below. The guards grouped towards this man. The captain walked over to him, and the torchlight revealed his face.
'Dayne,' Jomm breathed. 'He's alive.'
Does he know about Olan? he thought.
Jon Edwards
Prologue
Twilight's caliginous veil had dropped, pinned to the sky by many stars when Jomm woke in the woods. It was dark, how long had he slept? He glared at the stars that twinkled in the sky. This wasn't good. Three days ago he'd heard that Mort had been invaded and the people captured or slaughtered. No news had since come from the city. The stories were all the same; an unknown army, brandishing an unknown banner invaded the city for no particular reason. Jomm kicked a stone in front of him out of frustration.
I should have been there a day ago, he thought.
He swallowed hard. Erring had likely killed his mother, father, his brother Dayne and his nephew Olan. If they was dead, their blood painted Jomm's hands. What an idiot he had been. Rage surged inside him. He gripped his longbow tightly. The chill of the breeze on his damp cheeks made him shiver.
And it was here, that he began to laugh. This was not the laugh of a man who was happy. This was the laugh of a dangerous man who had the taste of vengeance on his tongue and nothing left to lose.
Grey smoke billowed in the distance towards Mort. His manic laughter subsided, and his old masters teachings flowed through his head like a song.
'Dark smoke signals a fire still burns,' Master Abe said. 'But white smoke means the fire has been extinguished.'
'A fire still burns,' he said softly.
He kicked sand onto the ashes of his old campfire and slung his knapsack over his shoulder, leaving the woods in search for smoke and fire.
Chapter 1: The Burning City
Jomm stood on the smooth stone bridge. He stared with wild eyes as Mort, the city he loved, burned before him. Fire licked at the castle walls and the air was thick with smoke and ash. Boiled blood and burnt hair filled the light wind with a stench. He slammed his fist onto the granite railing of the bridge.
'I should have been here,' he whispered to himself. 'I could have-' he paused.
What could I have done? he thought. Nothing.
He walked through the streets of burnt buildings and charred corpses. The smell was unbearable, and Jomm fought down the vomit that seemed so eager to come up. He coughed and choked as the burning in his throat and chest grew. Uneasiness spread through him like a plague. The streets were eerie and silent, where they once bustled and were noisy with life. The sound of footsteps broke the silence. Jomm drew his longbow off of his shoulder and nocked an arrow. His body relaxed as the scarlet feathers gently caressed his fingers with a soothing familiarity. Deep inside, he focussed on his breathing.
In, he inhaled.Out,he exhaled.
Behind him, a man stepped from behind the husk of a burnt house. His mail boots rattled and shook. As Jomm turned, he caught a flash of sunlight off the man's heavy scarlet armour.The man's chestplate bore an unfamiliar mark; a black, clenched fist engulfed by flame and a monster of a great sword sat at his hip. The man was at least a foot taller than him. His shoulders were broad, and his arms were thick with muscle. A malicious grin spread across his lips, and his deep dark eyes stared at Jomm with heated malevolence.
'Another rat comes squeaking out from a hole,' he said. 'Where have you been hiding?'
The man pulled his great sword from out of his sheath and the iron shimmered in the midday sun. Jomm's bow twanged as the arrow launched into the air, but the arrow skimmed off the man's thick plate armour. The man burst into laughter, and charged towards Jomm. With a mighty swing of his sword, he sliced at Jomm. A thin scratch opened up just beneath Jomm's left eye, as blood began to slowly trickle down his face. The man thrust his sword and tried to catch Jomm in the stomach, but it was easily side stepped by the smaller, nimbler man. Jomm released the short sword at his hip, and sliced at the back of the man's leg, leaving him hamstrung. But the man did not fall. He spun, and swung at Jomm once more. Jomm tried to parry, but the strength of the man's swing jarred his wrist and elbow, leaving his arm uncomfortably numb. His short sword slid across the sand, and the man grinned again. He lifted his sword, and began a flurry of attacks towards Jomm; chopping and hacking at the air where he had been. Jomm ducked and stepped, narrowly dodging each ruthless attack. He managed to slip behind the soldier, and planted a swift kick into the back of his hamstrung knee. The man fell to the ground, sending dust up into the air. Jomm turned and ran, distancing himself from the unknown attacker. He kept his eyes over his shoulder. He turned back, and drew his bow and nocked an arrow in quick succession. The man began to stand on shaky legs, balancing himself with the point of his sword in the dirt.
'Who are you?' Jomm asked with a fire in his voice.
The man spat.
With another twang, the arrow was loose. It struck him in the chest, penetrated his armor, and sent him sprawled onto the ground. The man gasped for breath, winded by the force. The arrow danced and vibrated and pierced the insignia on his armour. Jomm walked over, with another arrow nocked on the bowstring.
'Were there any prisoners taken?' Jomm asked, standing over the man.
'Die,' the man said through his gasps for air.
Jomm released tension on the bowstring, and gripped the arrow that stuck out of the man's knee. He pulled on it slowly, easing it out inch by inch. The man wept with pain.
'Tell me,' Jomm said.
'Yes. We took some,' the man cried.
Jomm ripped the arrow free. The man's cry echoed through the abandoned streets.
'You bastard!' the man screamed. His face writhed in agony.
'Where are they keeping them?' Jomm asked.
The man spat a wad of crimson blood towards him. Jomm glanced down at the man, and stomped his foot on his knee. The crack of the bones were almost drowned out by the scream of the man.
'I'll ask you one more time,' Jomm said, smirking.. 'If I don't get the answer I want, I will put you through hell.'
The man smiled that malicious grin again. His teeth were stained dark red as blood leaked through the cracks.
'Do you worst, rat.' he said. 'They will be tortured worse than anything you could do to me.'
Jomm's smirk disappeared. Pent up rage boiled inside his stomach and he pulled the bowstring back. The twang reverberated through his ears, as the arrow struck the man in the crotch. He howled and rolled and twisted on the ground.
'I wonder how it will feel if I pull this out slowly?' Jomm said dryly. 'I imagine it would be quite painful. Tell me, now.'
'They're in-' he stopped, grimacing with horror. 'Courtyard. Courtyard.'
Jomm released another arrow and the man's cries stopped. The arrow pierced his right eye, and blood trickled down his cheek like a calm and gentle stream down a small mountain. His body lay limp and calm, free from the writhing agony he was in.
'Thanks,' Jomm said. He walked away and left the corpse to rot in the street.
Jomm continued on down the streets slowly, sticking to what little cover there was in the dilapidated houses and shops. A familiar body made him come to a standstill.
'Olan?' he said, choking on the thick smoke. 'Olan, is that you?'
Guilt tore shreds at his heart as he rolled the charred body of his nephew over. Olan stared at Jomm with lifeless eyes. His golden hair was burnt and crisp. Cracked, blackened lips lined his mouth, which lay agape as though his last breath had been a scream of agony. A low groan escape Jomm's throat. He bit his lip, as grief took his body with a shaking force. His hands hammered the ground. Smash. Smash. Smash. Until his hands were bloody. He buried his face into his hands, and wept warm tears that fell off his chin, blackened by the ash and soot from his stained cheeks.
His face twisted with the idea of vengeance on the men who brought this upon his city and upon his family.
'I'm sorry Olan,' he choked. 'I should have been here. I should have-'
I wasn't here, he reminded himself.
He stood on shaky legs. Stomach knotting and head spinning, he threw up on the street. His throat ached and he gasped for fresh air. His head bowed with helplessness. He walked away from the corpse of the boy he had helped raise, still crying tears boiling with grief and anger.
Night had crept in over the city. A canopy of thick smoke hid the stars, but a bold, blood-soaked moon pierced the shroud and spilled an eerie luminescence onto the city. Jomm strained his eyes against the darkness, as he watched over the courtyard. Guards patrolled the ground at regular intervals. Their heads held high, as though they were proud of the feats they had accomplished.
Jomm scowled low and hard at them. The prisoners were huddled together tightly. No familiar faces jumped out at him from the darkness.
A man walked out from the compound, and into the courtyard with a burning torch. The light spread and revealed the surrounding guard, and the prisoners they kept.
'Alright you maggots,' the man said with the booming voiceof a captain, strutting around the camp like a proud rooster. 'Get on your feet, it's time to go for a walk.'
Chains rattled as the prisoners stood. Each one chained by hand and foot. Despite the torchlight, it was still difficult to make out any of the prisoners. They began to walk, but were quickly pulled to a halt. One prisoner stood tall, and proud, defying the orders of his captives. Jomm strained his ears at the murmur of conversation below. The guards grouped towards this man. The captain walked over to him, and the torchlight revealed his face.
'Dayne,' Jomm breathed. 'He's alive.'
Does he know about Olan? he thought.