View Full Version : The Brothers (1787 words) Will contain violence, sex and swearing.

September 12th, 2015, 01:01 AM
**K folks this is a work in progress, started it about 2 hours ago and just sat here doing this at work. Gotta do some thing now but will add extra posts to this when on shift. Can't save to works computer **


As a way of being awakened, there are much more pleasant ones than the feel of cold, sharp steel against ones throat. I had expected to be woken in a rather more pleasant way by the female of negotiatable affections that had accompanied me to my tavern room last night, but something appeared to have gone wrong in that respect. I opened my eyes slowly, ever aware that the man at the blunt end may be less inclined to take me in alive than I wanted him to be. As my eyes adjusted to the gloom I could make out three shapes gathered around me as I lay on the low hard mattress, two men and one, unsurprisingly, was the woman who had kept me company, not exactly inadequately either, during the night. A slight increase in pressure against my neck told me they knew I was awake, that and the rough voice that commanded me to get up in no uncertain terms. I remained stationary, the point of the sword still pressed uncomfortably into my neck, until it was removed a mere fraction of a second before the boot came crashing down into my stomach from the other bounty hunter. Air exploded from me as I double up instantly, pain blossoming throughout my body. Before I could recover a hand wrapped itself into my hair and yanked me onto my feet, painfully. Whilst I recovered the ability to breathe I stood naked in the gloom, not even contemplating running, watching the two bounty hunters inexpertly search the room, which I could see had already been done over by someone much more proficient in the skill. The prostitute stood to one side with a knowing grin, her double crossing skills obviously as well practised. The search over a pair of trousers came sailing out of the gloom at face height and wrapped themselves around my head, almost but not quite muffling the chuckle from one of the hunters. Assuming they wanted me to get dressed, I pulled on the trousers and slipped my feet into a pair of shoes, just in time to be shoved roughly towards the door, which rushed at me at an alarming rate until my nose stopped me in my tracks. Blood sprayed across my face from my flattened nose and once again pain filled my every nerve ending, this was not shaping up to be the best of days, all considered. One of the bounty hunters swung the door open into my ribs, and once again I found myself lacking the simply ability to breathe. As I lay in a ball on the floor, the prostitute stepped over my groaning form and enquired about her share of the bounty. Inside the part of my brain not filled with pain, albeit a small part, I began to imagine the cruel and unusual ways this bitch would pay for her betrayal. I was lifted from the floor then half carried half dragged into the hallway between the two men, their odours penetrating even my blood blocked and damaged nose. The hallway was illuminated by big torches that flamed in brackets along the wall, with the occasional patch of darkness where the torch had gone out. I let my head hang down and my eyes close, easier for the blood to flow straight from my battered face and onto my chest than have it run down in rivulets and I had no real desire to see where they were taking me, I already knew. My feet dragged along through the dirt on the floor as they hauled me towards the stairs, and the hunters themselves were already planning how they were going to spend the reward money on either side of me. Thatís probably the main reason they never knew anything about the crossbows until the bolts had buried themselves into their necks, which caused their dying bodies to drop me unceremoniously to the floor as their hands grabbed feebly at the feathered flights until their brains realised it was no use, and the two hunks of foul smelling dead flesh collapsed upon me accompanied by the sharp indrawn breath of the prostitute. As I lay under these carcasses I heard footsteps coming towards me, and the sound of crossbows being reloaded, perhaps this bounty hunter would be happy to take in the corpse. The footsteps stopped in front of me, and I felt the top body being pulled off me, then I heard the soft voice.
"Brother, Brother, Brother. Your taste for the flesh is going to be the end of you one day."
Koll, my homicidal brother, never before have I been so happy to hear his voice. I rolled out from under the second body and looked up to find him stood over me, one hand still holding the arm of the first bounty hunter as he lifted the corpse to allow me out and the other aiming a crossbow at the statuesque woman. He looked down and raised an enquiring eyebrow at me, the question unspoken. I never got the chance to reply, as if she sensed what was coming she turned and tried to run. With hardly a movement Koll sent the bolt flying after her, catching her high in between the shoulder blades. She collapsed face down into the dirt and lay motionless, all three died with almost no noise outside of the room. A quick search of her and with my money back in my pocket I returned to the room and gathered a few more items before rejoining Koll who had busied himself searching his handiwork. He helped me to move the bodies into my now vacated room, at least they might not be found for some while. The bloodstains were easily removed by spreading more dirt over them. The whole episode had taken less than five minutes, and hardly any noise meant that no other residents heard anything. We left by the window, it seemed a prudent idea at the time but when I hit the floor my battered and bruised body told me exactly how much of a bad idea it had been. I lay winded but Koll was not about to let me catch my breath, he hauled me up and pushed me round the side of the building to the front. 3 horses stood at the main door, they may once have been tied to the tether but now all three reins were grasped firmly in one hand of Farge, my other brother. In his other hand was the limp form of another bounty hunter, his neck totally encompassed by the hand and crushed and mangled. Farge saw us coming, and almost idly tossed the body away before trudging over with the horses in tow, and believe me, if Farge wants to lead you somewhere, your going whether you like it or not. His dull eyes took in my injuries without comment, he simply handed me one set of reins and then threw me into the saddle without pause for my pains. Koll leapt into the saddle of another of the mounts, then Farge himself clambered into the final saddle and as one we turned our horses and kicked them into a canter.

Allow me to properly introduce ourselves, I am Dief, the admittedly self proclaimed, intellectual. I am the mastermind behind most of our more intricate exploits. I do the thinking for all three of us all too often but someone has to.

The one that looks like a mountain of sheer muscle is the eldest of us, his name is Farge, Not the most talkative of people by any standard, often all he has to do is lurk nearby and people become strangely compliant.

Which brings us lastly to Koll. Kollís grip of social laws is very loose but his grip on a blade is better, as all too many people have found out. Some people pay for him to visit others, some people pay to stop Koll visiting them. But mainly Koll kills because he canít think of a reason not to.


Dief hung low in the saddle, obviously nursing his wounds. At least he was silent, which counted for something. I like the silence, it soothes me yet it also aids me in doing my best work. On a normal day silence around Dief is a rare thing though, but todayís treatment had at least managed to shut him up for now. Farge isn't the talkative type, in fact the only sound you may hear from him is the rolling thunder of his snores. The forests wrapped themselves around us as we rode, and soon a ground mist swirled around our horseís legs as we let them take us where they wanted. We left the tracks and paths behind as meandered through trees and round boulders. Still we rode on, sensing more than seeing the sun begin to set above the trees. Finally our mounts halted beside a small pool of brackish water to drink, and I watched with a wry smile as Dief almost fell from the saddle to a chorus of language even our mother would have been shocked by. I pondered asking him if she had been worth it, but decided the brotherly bond can only be stretched so far. I slipped from my saddle lightly, landing on the damp ground with barely a thud, drawing a glare from Dief that said he knew I was doing it on purpose. Even Farge tried his best to dismount gracefully but given his size and lack of co-ordination in some things, he ended up doing only marginally better than Dief. Farge set off into the trees; he knew the drill by now. He collected firewood and any food he could, he once brought back a badly stunned bear carried effortlessly on one shoulder! Dief should have been checking the area for any signs of habitation or people in general but given his state of health I allowed him to slump down onto the ground with a groan. I rummaged around in my pockets and found some bread I had taken from the bounty hunters. I tested each piece and threw the softest to Dief, his jaw was going to be sore for a few days and at some point, I was going to have to sort out his nose. He caught the bread and looked at it closely before speaking in a pained voice;
"Koll, you cannot expect me to eat this. It has got that mans blood on it!"

"Better his than yours brother, besides, it adds flavour and everyone knows blood is good for you. Why else do we have so much in us?"

September 12th, 2015, 01:02 AM
As an extra disclaimer, I am going to try and run all three characters at the same time but by individual sections, it might make my brain hurt.

Daniel Loreand
September 14th, 2015, 02:30 PM
Haha, not too bad at all! the introduction made me chuckle, reminded me of Abercrombies sense of humour, if a little more toned down. Brave of you to go with three POV's - not to sound patronising but I hope you know what you're getting into, people like George RR Martin can get away with that stuff because they've been in the buisness a long time (not saying you haven't I just don't know your writing background). Have to say though, it works - and I like the use of first person as the personalites of the brothers really shine through in this. I would tighten a few things up however as they seemed to stilt the read a bit - not ALOT just a little. Lines like The prostitute stood to one side with a knowing grin, her double crossing skills obviously as well practised. This could be shortened to something to the effect of 'The prostitute stood to one side with a knowing grin,her skills at deception obviously as well practised.' But as you said this was done at work and I imagine you didn't have much time to give it a pass in edit. I'd also maybe try changing the word prostitute to whore as perhaps Dief is angry at her? I dunno take my advice with a pinch of salt.

Overall though a totally enjoyable read - you thinking of this turning into a novel?

September 17th, 2015, 04:57 AM
I don't know what I am doing or where I am going with it to be honest, I sit here at work and just write stuff.

Not what I am getting paid for though :-p

Thanks for the feedback, any advice always accepted and taken on board.

Just written a few more lines for it, so posting them now.

September 17th, 2015, 04:58 AM

The sound of the animals in the trees pleases me, I stop to watch some rabbits playfully jumping around the base of a tree for a few minutes then I remember my task. I reach up and begin to tear branches from the trees until I hear Diefís voice in my head lecturing me on picking it from the ground. Diefís been good to me, so I listen. Soon I have plenty and retrace my steps to where Koll sits watching our brother sleep.


Farge had done well, returning with arms loaded full of wood which he soon turned into a brightly burning fire. Farge never seemed to have trouble lighting fires. He sat himself down and stared intently into the flames, eyes reflecting the dancing firelight but seeing nothing. I often wonder what he is thinking, or if he thinks at all when he sits like that. Dief is gently snoring on the ground beside the fire, having eaten the bread despite his protestations. The rest will do him good, but we could little afford to be out of action as our funds and supplies are low. Without disturbing them I slip off towards the same tavern we left in a hurry from earlier.