Wednesday, June 17, 2009

Oh when i used to be creative...

Yers back I had convinced myself to write a novel...well it never did get past the first few chapters.. who knows maybe some day I will finish it. anyways for your pleasure or is chapter 1.

The Story Begins chapter 1

The leaves on the trees were changing from deep green to the sickly yellows and oranges of an early fall, soon winter would blanket the northern village of Brackhurst. Aaron D'vin sat atop the stone wall surrounding the small settlement. To his north lay his fathers tanning shop, to the south lay open fields, then forest,then the dream of a warmer climate. It was to the south the young mans attention was fixed. He had always dreamed of leaving the village, dreamed of adventure. The look on his face however was not one of dreams. The look on his face was that of resolve, someone who had their mind set and was ready to take the thought and put it into motion.

He didnt have a set course really, he knew their was a war to the south in the land of the humans. Where there were wars, there were mercenary units. Where there are mercenary units, there was need of a skilled swordsman. In the village of Brackhurst there was no finer swordsman then Aaron D'vin. This was not all togethor a tough feat, the village totalled a mere 323 people. Most of those people expected Aaron to join the local militia, help protect the villages borders from outside threats. In fact many hoped he would, as the militia was curently undermanned, due to a recent goblin raid. It was however this same goblin raid his mother had died in. Aaron did not mourn her death as most would think. He looked upon her death as "moving on to a better place" or "Finally out of that bastards reach". That bastard being Aarons father.

It was no big secret that his father was an abusive man, in fact the entire village knew. On two occasions people tried to intervene, The first of which was the local butcher. The butcher was a kind man by the name of Otus, a man with a big heart, but very little fighting skill. Aaron's father had left the man a bleeding mess by the end of the exchange. Suspecting his wife and son of haveing involvement, he punished both of them severely. The second attempt had been Aaron himself in his adolesence. That skirmish had left Aaron with three busted ribs, and bruises covering the vast majority of his body. The real damage however was dealt to his mother, who was bed ridden for a week with her injuries.

Ten years had passed since then, Aaron was now a man.

"WHELP, Get yer ass in here" came a loud voice from inside the tanning shop.

Aaron pretended not to hear.Let the bastard wait

"Aaron, Get yer ass in here now!" his father had moved to the door of the shop to issue this demand.

Aaron looked to the man in the door. "Coming" he stated evenly, no hint of emotion in his voice.
Aaron rolled off the side of the stone wall, landing in a crouch on the ground below. He then stood to his full height of six feet and began walking to the shop.

Seeing that Aaron had heard him and was on his way, his father turned and entered the shop. Aaron allowed a tight smile to cross his face "Yes I am coming" ,he thought to himself,"But you are not gonna like the reason."

As he entered the shop Aaron noticed a freshly stretched deer skin, but also ten feet from the skin, laid the rest of the deer.
"That idiot Vargas bags a deer," the older man started "but he don't know ass end from horn when it comes to skinning. Get yer lazy ass in motion, take that carcass to the butcher."

Aaron paused a second, then looked up to look the other man square in the eyes.

"Take it yourself." was his flat reply.

The older man took two steps forward and hit Aaron with his right hand. The blow was expected, Aaron took a step back and let his head roll with the punch, thus taking much of the impact out of it.

"You insolent lil shit, I gave you a job to do, I am still your father and you will obey me!"

Aarons faced turned back to stare directly into his fathers. He wore a smile on his freshly bleeding lip. "Nope!"

This one word answer infuriated his father, it was intended to. When he threw the second punch, Aaron this time did not stand still. A quick sidestep avoided the hit. His right hand shot up and caught the older mans wrist. His lefthand went up to his opponents shoulder and with one fluid motion he used the momentum of the punch to throw the man halfway across the room.
Aaron chuckled aloud "If only mother were here to see this."

The crumpled heap of a man was slow to rise. When he had finally regained his footing he turned to face Aaron, his face had lost all its color, the fall had apparently knocked the wind out of him. Reaching for his skinning knife from his apron he said, "That whore? I dont think she would like to see what I'm about to do to you."

Aaron stood un-moving. He didnt reach for the sword at his waist, nor for one of his numerous daggers fastened to his body. Of all the things this idiot could have said, he picked the worst out of all of them. Aaron knew the old man was trying to anger him into making the first mistake,knew he was trying to make Aaron make the first clumsy move. Anger Aaron, yes he succeded. The tight smile dropped from his face, replaced by a scowl. The anger in his eyes mirrored that scowl. Yet Aaron remained still. He may be angry, but when it came to a fight, he wasnt prepared to lose to his anger.

"I give you one warning old man." Aaron steadied his voice."you try and use that blade on me, I promise you it will be buried inside you not me."

The attack came quick but sloppy. A slice from the right at chest level. Once again Aaron took a step back, the attack passing harmlessly in front of him.

The smile was back on his face.make him miss a bit more, he thought to himself.

Three more attacks and three more evasions. Aaron chuckled, "Funny, I used to think you could hit hard, but soo far, I just find you amusing."

Amused, he actually was. Aaron knew how to fight, fighting wasnt about hitting. Fighting was about making your opponent miss, and then capitalizing on that miss.
Aaron dodged another attack, and countered with another round of words.

"Hmmm you know they say hitting isnt fighting and that any fool can hit." another chuckle. "guess you dont rank that high"

The older man was furious by this time, and the last statement pushed him over the top. He jumped at Aaron, fully expecting to skewer him with an overhand swing. It was the attack Aaron was waiting for. He waited till the last moment to side step. Getting his hands over top of his opponents, he added his weight and strength to the momentum of the swing, driving the blade deep into the older mans thigh. Aaron then immidietly stood upright using his legs to power a strike with the palm of his hand to the chin of the older D'vin. The old man went limp and collapsed to the floor unconcious.

Aaron stood there for a moment, admiring his handiwork. For a split second he thought of waiting there till the bastard woke up, only so he could knock him out again. He quickly decided against it, deeming it as only something a monster would do. In fact it was something that this monster at his feet had done, and that in itself was a good enough reason for Aaron not to.

Aaron walked to the front door. Then paused. He turned round and began searching. Finding what he was looking for was easy. He took the parchment , ink vial and pen, and wrote a short note. Dropping it on the floor in front of the unconcious man. He then turned around and strode out the door.

In the growing dimness of the setting sun, his features were hard to make out. A figure dressed in tight fitting hardened leather armor, long black hair blowing in the breeze, exposing his long pointed ears. A finely chiseled face which the females of his race found attractive, but as far as he was concerned, he was ugly. His eyes glowed red with the night vision that came natural to his race. His smile came back to him, showing one of the other traits only found in people of his race., over developed canines. He was high goblin, and now...a man. He had one more stop before he left this village behind, and he rushed to get there.


The footsteps finally receded. The man on the floor let out a gasp. His hands shooting to the blade in his thigh. He had forced himself to be quiet, forced himself to remain still, feigned unconciousness.

"what was that lil shit doing that took him soo long to leave?"

He rolled over onto his knees. A very painful process, which almost resulted in him losing conciousness. Directly in front of him, on the ground, was a piece of parchment. It had been flipped over, so that the writing was face down. He crawled forward reached down and flipped it over. Three neatly written words were on the parchment. At that point he blacked out from his wound, but the words were burned into his dreams..


so endeth chapter one, I do have 5 more completed, but those i will save for another time.

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