SingingDryad~
New member
10! I love your writing style!
Here's part of the prologue to one of my stories....hope you like it.
THE CREATURE OF DEATH
The night was pitch-black, and as silent as a tomb. Only the occasional howl of the wind broke the stillness. The old trees of the valley swayed perilously, creaking and groaning. Far up, on a high branch, the boy lifted his head, still tired from his short rest. He was a tall child, perhaps twelve years old, with fair hair and keen blue eyes. His pale skin, almost luminescent in the faint moonlight, made him look like a specter. This boy was a valuable warrior, as anyone could see, by his regal posture and sword hanging from his waist. He jumped nimbly from his perch, landing almost noiselessly on the ground. Dusting himself off, he looked at his surroundings; no Ogres, no attackers.
“And no Valdis.” he thought, readjusting his sword. With a self-satisfied smirk, he recalled how he had snuck into the Valdis’s camp that night. Slipping between the bumbling Ogres, he had entered the Valdis’s tent. As the Valdis mostly went out during the night, the tent was deserted. The boy found what he was looking for below a chest; a pendant, out of a huge crystal. Momentarily awed, he had stared at the beautiful stone. The Valdis had stolen it, knowing that with the Sindre, they could follow warriors, and therefore, get important information, that would greatly help Morinth’s reign of terror. That couldn’t happen.
Shaking himself from his thoughts, the boy’s expression hardened. Morinth couldn’t win over the other six kingdoms. He grimaced at the thought of what would happen to the rest of Bengolarrea if the Dark Land’s brutish armies won. They would rampage and plunder, while the terrifying Valdis and the other monsters would roam freely. Shuddering, the boy quickened his pace. He was not out of enemy territory yet, and the Ogres, or worse, the Valdis, were liable to catch him. The forest was silent, as if it were holding its breath. That was worrying the boy- even at night; there were always animals and birds around, not to mention the other creatures. Suddenly, the boy stopped abruptly.
A hideous sight greeted him; for lying on the ground, her beautiful face twisted in pain, was a dead Wood Demon. Her hand was clutching a tree stump,which had been her only hope of escape. The Wood Demon hadn't run fast enough from whatever had killed her. Silvery green blood pooled around her tall, thin frame, staining the leafy dress she wore. The Demon’s reddish hair covered most of her face, but the boy could still see the marks of a dagger, three slashes in succession.
Valdis.
The boy backed away, and then took off in another direction, trying to force the image of the corpse from his mind. Killing such a pure, beautiful creature as a Wood Demon was savage, inhuman. “But then, the creature that killed the Wood Demon was as far from human as possible.”
Once again, the boy stopped, and shrank against the bole of a tree, holding his breath. He thought he had heard a sound…the boy was right. Just a few moments later, three Ogres came barreling through the trees, grunting and puffing. Short, with hairy bodies and faces that looked as if they had been smashed into a thousand pieces and stitched back together all wrong. They wielded small deadly swords and round shields. Feared, but not too much of a threat to the warriors. But what came behind the Ogres made the boy’s blood run cold. A menacing black shape, hooded and cloaked, moved along stealthily, almost like a ghost. When it passed, the Ogres stepped back, fear in their eyes. The Valdis paused in the middle of the clearing, and seemed to smell the air, a wheezing groan that sent a shiver down the hiding boy’s spine.
“He is close. Find him.” It hissed in a voice more snake than human- or whatever the creature under that hood really was. Branches cracked as the Ogres dispersed in separate directions, leaving the Valdis, motionless, in the clearing. The boy risked shrinking back a little farther into the shadows, when a rough hand clamped over his mouth, while another yanked his sword form his belt. The boy’s arms were twisted painfully behind his back; making escape impossible- even he couldn’t fight off three Ogres single-handedly, and without his sword. Mainly, it was the Valdis that made it impossible; that haunting stillness and gloom emanating from the blackness was paralyzing. As the boy was led forth, the Valdis uttered a cold, cruel laugh.
“I see the spy has been captured…. tell me, what did you want in my camp?”The Valdis hissed.
Squaring his jaw defiantly, the boy refused to speak. With relief, the boy recalled he had sent Sindre ahead by the Wood Demons. They were sure to get it back to the warriors, although the boy doubted he’d get back alive himself. The Valdis’s voice caught back the boy’s attention:
“If he does not tell me, he will not tell anyone.” Drawing a sword, the Valdis moved closer, it’s arm rising to strike. “No!” the boy thought, but it was too late- the sword cut the side of the boy’s neck, just below the ear. With a choked scream, the boy fell to the ground, with what felt like an icy nail of pain being driven into his neck. “Fang Poison!” the boy thought, remembering the story of the deadly weapon; he’d die slowly, painfully, as the poison reached his heart. Above him, the Valdis hissed with satisfaction.
Yeah, not too good. None of my stuff is good anyway...*grumble grumble* I gotta work on all this.
Here's part of the prologue to one of my stories....hope you like it.
THE CREATURE OF DEATH
The night was pitch-black, and as silent as a tomb. Only the occasional howl of the wind broke the stillness. The old trees of the valley swayed perilously, creaking and groaning. Far up, on a high branch, the boy lifted his head, still tired from his short rest. He was a tall child, perhaps twelve years old, with fair hair and keen blue eyes. His pale skin, almost luminescent in the faint moonlight, made him look like a specter. This boy was a valuable warrior, as anyone could see, by his regal posture and sword hanging from his waist. He jumped nimbly from his perch, landing almost noiselessly on the ground. Dusting himself off, he looked at his surroundings; no Ogres, no attackers.
“And no Valdis.” he thought, readjusting his sword. With a self-satisfied smirk, he recalled how he had snuck into the Valdis’s camp that night. Slipping between the bumbling Ogres, he had entered the Valdis’s tent. As the Valdis mostly went out during the night, the tent was deserted. The boy found what he was looking for below a chest; a pendant, out of a huge crystal. Momentarily awed, he had stared at the beautiful stone. The Valdis had stolen it, knowing that with the Sindre, they could follow warriors, and therefore, get important information, that would greatly help Morinth’s reign of terror. That couldn’t happen.
Shaking himself from his thoughts, the boy’s expression hardened. Morinth couldn’t win over the other six kingdoms. He grimaced at the thought of what would happen to the rest of Bengolarrea if the Dark Land’s brutish armies won. They would rampage and plunder, while the terrifying Valdis and the other monsters would roam freely. Shuddering, the boy quickened his pace. He was not out of enemy territory yet, and the Ogres, or worse, the Valdis, were liable to catch him. The forest was silent, as if it were holding its breath. That was worrying the boy- even at night; there were always animals and birds around, not to mention the other creatures. Suddenly, the boy stopped abruptly.
A hideous sight greeted him; for lying on the ground, her beautiful face twisted in pain, was a dead Wood Demon. Her hand was clutching a tree stump,which had been her only hope of escape. The Wood Demon hadn't run fast enough from whatever had killed her. Silvery green blood pooled around her tall, thin frame, staining the leafy dress she wore. The Demon’s reddish hair covered most of her face, but the boy could still see the marks of a dagger, three slashes in succession.
Valdis.
The boy backed away, and then took off in another direction, trying to force the image of the corpse from his mind. Killing such a pure, beautiful creature as a Wood Demon was savage, inhuman. “But then, the creature that killed the Wood Demon was as far from human as possible.”
Once again, the boy stopped, and shrank against the bole of a tree, holding his breath. He thought he had heard a sound…the boy was right. Just a few moments later, three Ogres came barreling through the trees, grunting and puffing. Short, with hairy bodies and faces that looked as if they had been smashed into a thousand pieces and stitched back together all wrong. They wielded small deadly swords and round shields. Feared, but not too much of a threat to the warriors. But what came behind the Ogres made the boy’s blood run cold. A menacing black shape, hooded and cloaked, moved along stealthily, almost like a ghost. When it passed, the Ogres stepped back, fear in their eyes. The Valdis paused in the middle of the clearing, and seemed to smell the air, a wheezing groan that sent a shiver down the hiding boy’s spine.
“He is close. Find him.” It hissed in a voice more snake than human- or whatever the creature under that hood really was. Branches cracked as the Ogres dispersed in separate directions, leaving the Valdis, motionless, in the clearing. The boy risked shrinking back a little farther into the shadows, when a rough hand clamped over his mouth, while another yanked his sword form his belt. The boy’s arms were twisted painfully behind his back; making escape impossible- even he couldn’t fight off three Ogres single-handedly, and without his sword. Mainly, it was the Valdis that made it impossible; that haunting stillness and gloom emanating from the blackness was paralyzing. As the boy was led forth, the Valdis uttered a cold, cruel laugh.
“I see the spy has been captured…. tell me, what did you want in my camp?”The Valdis hissed.
Squaring his jaw defiantly, the boy refused to speak. With relief, the boy recalled he had sent Sindre ahead by the Wood Demons. They were sure to get it back to the warriors, although the boy doubted he’d get back alive himself. The Valdis’s voice caught back the boy’s attention:
“If he does not tell me, he will not tell anyone.” Drawing a sword, the Valdis moved closer, it’s arm rising to strike. “No!” the boy thought, but it was too late- the sword cut the side of the boy’s neck, just below the ear. With a choked scream, the boy fell to the ground, with what felt like an icy nail of pain being driven into his neck. “Fang Poison!” the boy thought, remembering the story of the deadly weapon; he’d die slowly, painfully, as the poison reached his heart. Above him, the Valdis hissed with satisfaction.
Yeah, not too good. None of my stuff is good anyway...*grumble grumble* I gotta work on all this.
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