View Full Version : Fantasy Medieval

January 4th, 2011, 12:59 AM
Comments appreciated. If you are to comment on grammar or writing in general, please tell me what areas I lack so I can research. I am attempting to get better.

The village of Drumsdin was located in the heart of Alzac, a country plagued with both external and internal turmoil. The King, Howard De Paerks, had recently been assassinated. The killer’s origin remained unknown. Priority was given to ruling clan nobleman of each house—for King De Paerks had no heir. Internal disputes waged as each house grabbed for power, the final result ending in stalemate.

News spread of the internal conflicts of Alzac, as both human and non took advantage of the ongoing conflicts. Villages were plundered, land was stolen, and houses remained divided. This once great kingdom eventually withered due to the segregation of the ruling nobles. The houses were no more, no heir had risen, and the conflicts destroyed all parties. The land itself had become bleak. In few remote areas, once prosperous cities now hoarded for survival. The land brewed into a safe-haven for outlaws, murders, and something not to be mentioned. For once the great kingdom of Alzac stood, now only a shadow of its former self remained.

************************************************** *******

Back and forth the men paced guards who patrolled the walls of Drumsdin. It was rather late at night, most villagers slept quietly by this time. In the towns walls, far to the west side, sat a manor. Inside, a round woman wearing a smock could be seen cradling a crying baby.

“Jarold,” the woman asked, “do ya jest?”

There in the corner stood a rather voluptuous man. His face covered in a large beard. He had on a peculiar wool tunic, brown in color. A symbol of a crying clown was etched into the right breast. On the left, a design of a spade and a heart somehow fused with one another. Clips of fur dangled throughout his attire. He was holding a large axe which rested on his right shoulder; in his hand, a wooden mug which held a dark liquid.

“huh?” Jarold replied,

“ya has to drink today?” the woman asked, glaring at him.

Jarold froze for a second, staring at Cecily and the baby. It was rather late and he wasn't in the mood. Irritably, he rose his mug to finish and with a large gasp, slammed the mug on a nearby table resting his axe alongside it.

“happy.." he mumbled, heading towards the door.

“Don’cha taketh that tone with me” Cecily whipped back, as he headed out the door.

Jarold grumbled, “Yosh betta be glad, yosh holding a child” glancing around to see if anyone had heard him. He was in the rural district of Drumsdin, only manors were in sight. A few small candle flames danced in the window frames of the neighboring homes. He began walking down a connecting dirt road with no destination in mind. Step by step he paced onwards, staggering about, fading into a memory. His best friend Sir Gravis Light had just passed away. He and his wife not even a week ago were found brutally murdered. The newly born baby was all that remained.

The image of the crime scene continued to haunt him, although, two peculiar things were discovered—nothing was taken, and there injures couldn’t be identified. One witness was found; however, she only saw the manor from a distance, and noted a weird burst of red light that she remembered seeing.

Onward he staggered, reminiscing of those days of good with Sir Light and trying to forget the harshness of reality. A loud noise suddenly broke his concentration, snapping him back to reality. “Ding, Ding, Ding,” he froze, for he knew what it meant. The bells were designed to be an alert system, whenever they were used—it meant approaching danger for the town.

“Ding, Ding, Ding” the bells continued, Jarold perked his head about, still uncertain on what to do. Small lights slowly started flickering on, as people awoke from the echoing rings. Jarold took a small gasp of air, his mind was racing. He turned sharply around only to fall face flat in the mud. “behhh” he groaned, as he got up, staggering towards his house.

“Ding, Ding, Ding” the bells were relentless, as more and more people flocked outside their doors, an expression of alertness on their face. Jarold picked up the pace at this point. All the commotion was giving him quite the migraine, due in part to the repetitive question that everyone was yelling, “what’s going on?” Everyone waited patiently for a passing news bringer, but Jarold focus was elsewhere.

A sparkle of hope, for his manor had finally come within sight. While passing a neighboring house, he had heard his name being yelled, “Jarold,” “Doith ya know?” the man had said, “noooo” he barked back, stopping momentary. Everyone around had become silent, a feint voice was yelling passing news. Jarolds mouth dropped as he listened in. Everyone around gasped simultaneously, as they too heard the cry, “Tisen, run!”

Jarold gulped, it felt as if death itself stood before him, squeezing his heart and mocking his soul. “Tisen!” “Tisen!” “It’s Tisen, run!” the message was being relayed throughout the area, but he knew what it meant. Death was here. In the corner of his eye, he spotted a group of people all standing on a small hill. Their face seemed gripped with fear, he soon joined them, gasping alongside. In the horizon he could see it. Parts of the town tore ablaze; smoke was rising throughout the air. By this point, screams of help could be heard.

He gathered himself and dashed for his manor. Cecily was standing outside, the baby, firmly cradled within her arms.

“Jarold, what’s going on?” The baby was sleeping.

“Cecily, it’s Tisen,” her eyes widened on the word Tisen, a look of pure fear, “they have already broken through the walls. We must go!” Jarold seemed panicked,

Jarold darted inside the manor, grabbing his axe and helmet. Neighboring people had already begun fleeing at this point, heading away from where the screams originated. Jarold held his axe firmly as he stood outside his doorway, “let’s go,” he said, motioning for her to follow.

“Don’t you need to protect the town with the soliders?” Cecily asked.

“These are not men they fight Cecily, these are demons. Tisssen. They go to their grave. Follow and ill explain.”

They headed towards the gate in the northwestern parts joining a crowd of migrating people.

“I have experience with these creatures. They be different types. Most believe its all but one, but I know betta.”

“How could you know?” Cecily asked,

Jarold let out a long sigh of breath, as he continued pacing with the herd of people. “Aye, I guess its time for me to explanith, this be a time before I knew you. This was before I knew Sir Light. I was but a young lad, a traveler. I was hired for some mercenary work in a land far from here. Everything went on as normal, time was peaceful in those days, but that soon changed. A mysterious murder spree began in the town. That is when I meet Sir Light; he was called in to deal with the problem. Back then I only heard rumors of Tisen, but never experienced one first hand.”

Jarold shook his head, “A long inquisitor started, and many died. The murders only continued to rise. It is then that Sir Light called in a specialist, a Crimson Blood,” Cecily looked surprised, “A blood-sucker?!” she exclaimed, “You’ve seen a Halfling? I hear they are half man half demon. What do they look like?”

“They look no different from you or me, except their eyes, I will never forgot the look of that mans eyes.” Jarold said,

“What happened then?” Cecily was intrigued,

“Sir Lights judgment was right, it was indeed a Tisen. In fact, two of them. It is then that I learned that they are not all the same. Some are far powerful than one could imagine! Some hold incredible abilities, while others not so. There are three stages they go through for ascension. That Crimson Blood managed to win the battle, but he fought only two Tisen. One was far stronger than the other, but both were considered the weakest of their kind. No human could fight evenly with those beasts."

Jarold eyes were glued to a spot, he hadn't blinked in awhile. "Whilst I headed towards you, I took a stop on a hill. I saw multiple fires started, which mean multiple Tisen."

Cecily looked worried. “How many?”

Jarold paused, “…if it is indeed Tisen, we stand no chance of victory. They are able to disguise themselves among us. Even if that not be the case, they are far too powerful, even a platoon of knights could not slay but one."

Cecily interrupted him, "Jarold, how many?!"

Jarold paused again, "...around 50 fires"

(Not all of chapter 1 but I didn't want to bore with the entire chapter. This is long enough.)

January 4th, 2011, 03:44 PM
Hi Jonathanrs -
I like the story already and your dialogue is good. Your grammar is pretty good too, but you should capitalize the start of new quotes. Also, if you written out what the character is doing, the ellipses don't need to be in the quote -

Jarold paused again, "...around 50 fires"
In this sentence, Jarold is answering a question, so it is a complete thought, thus it doesn't need the ..., you told us he paused before answering.
My other advice is simply to really reread anything you do in fantasy - the great thing about these stories is that you can create anything, show us anything, but spellcheck is no friend of fantasy or sci-fi. I find it helps me to read my story out loud, or even backwards, word-by-word to see the individual words, not the "story."

January 5th, 2011, 12:31 AM
I like the your writing, It was easy for too follow along. But this reminds me of Claymore, no offense. Just not with girls. Still I wish to read more, if at all you are going to post more.

January 5th, 2011, 12:18 PM
@Fossil: Point noted
@Thelistener: Point noted, as for Claymore, one other person mentioned that. I looked it up, I can see how there would be a similarity between the two based on the samll amount that I posted. However, crimson bloods are vampires =P and there was a lot more into the story then just half-human, half-tisen (tisen were going to be creatures that were similiar to vampire bats that ate people. There was going to be other themes like taken from greek history gods and also there was going to a few similiarties to past heros like achilles, hercules, exc.

Anyways, this was just posted for pratice, I am not a good enough writer yet to attempt to write a full piece. ={ Thank you for the reviews. I wish more people would of atleast voted to tell me how they felt.