A Story
I was perusing through one of my older journals and found a short story that I wrote about two years ago. As I read through it I thought to myself, " Well, this isn't too terribly depressing." and came to the conclusion that I should share it with you if to do nothing more than prove that I can write something that's not angsty.
Since it is written in a journal and not my computer I'm going to just post a few paragraphs at a time. I'll have it all up in three days at the most since as I type it I'm trying to improve on it. Trust me when I tell you that it could sorely do with improvements.
So, I give to you a story written badly, yet happily of a knight and a dragon.
The faint red glow of the setting sun sifted between the canopy of leaves that surrounded a small stream. Looking decidedly out of place in such a peaceful setting there knelt a man in bulky metal armor drinking fro his cupped hands as his dapple gray horse nibbled at the foliage of a nearby tree. He finished his drink and splashed water on his pleasantly square face and knuckled at his eyes, trying to rub away the fatigue that came from a week of non-stop riding. ‘Where is that blasted dragon?!”, he thought scathingly. It had Taken three long days to pick up the trail and two more days of constant galloping to follow it back to here. A remarkably large and soothingly humid forest after the long trip across the Aledita Plains, where rain was either non-existent or pouring down in tub fulls trying to drown you. He noted that this was not what people pictured when they thought of a large green-black house sized dragon, but to each his own. He sighed and braced his hands on either side of him, grunting with the effort it took to lift himself plus several stones of tarnished metal. His grey eyes glanced up at the sky as he felt the last bit of light filter over the horizon and give way to the eerily bright moon. As he began to unburden his gelding he thanked any listening spirits that he wouldn’t have to stumble around in inky darkness to lay out his equipment. He lifted down several small saddle bags, half a dozen long leather wrapped lengths, and a large bag made of a rubbery gray material. Lastly he unbuckled a simple but deadly looking broad sword made solely for the purpose of hacking and slashing flesh and bone.
The packets, when opened, contained an assortment of talismans, glittering metal tools, dusts, and flat rectangular rocks. He took care to keep all the contents safely parted. Recalling the last time he had accidentely let the rocks touch the dust he gingerly rubbed his fullly regrown eyebtrows. An hour was spent orgainizing his belongings and gazing at the forest thoughtfully. The terrain was fairly flat, but he would have to avoid the trees where the were overly dense. He had marked out their spots earlier. There was two worrisome spots. One to the south ant the other to the south-east where he assumed that the dragon was keeping the young monarch captive.
That was the reason he was keeping him here after all. No one in their sane mind would hunt down a dragon unless there had been a kidnapping of some sort. This kidnapping had been widely publisized though. It had been the current Prince of Hatia that had been taken. Not just a farm lad, but a full blown prince. The king was paying, strangely enough, a king's ransom for the return of his snotty nosed brat.
When the abduction had occurred there had been a rallying of veterans and military men, and women, of every village to attempt Jaref's rescue. They had all ran off to either the western dessert or the northern mountains in hopes of picking up the trail. Only on eman had thought to look in a lace were it was pleasant and full of easy game.
He snorted with derision. Reall, why in the name of Rewyn would a dragon choose a dessert over an ice forest? With a shrug of his broad shoulders he continued his preperations. The thoughtlessness of the others would just make his task easier and he wouldn't have to share the reward. His thought automatically corrected him and he smiled, the crow's feet at the corners of his eyes crinkling merrily. There was one person he would share with, but he didn't mind The...errr...person was a critical part of his workin glife after all.
Since it is written in a journal and not my computer I'm going to just post a few paragraphs at a time. I'll have it all up in three days at the most since as I type it I'm trying to improve on it. Trust me when I tell you that it could sorely do with improvements.
So, I give to you a story written badly, yet happily of a knight and a dragon.
The faint red glow of the setting sun sifted between the canopy of leaves that surrounded a small stream. Looking decidedly out of place in such a peaceful setting there knelt a man in bulky metal armor drinking fro his cupped hands as his dapple gray horse nibbled at the foliage of a nearby tree. He finished his drink and splashed water on his pleasantly square face and knuckled at his eyes, trying to rub away the fatigue that came from a week of non-stop riding. ‘Where is that blasted dragon?!”, he thought scathingly. It had Taken three long days to pick up the trail and two more days of constant galloping to follow it back to here. A remarkably large and soothingly humid forest after the long trip across the Aledita Plains, where rain was either non-existent or pouring down in tub fulls trying to drown you. He noted that this was not what people pictured when they thought of a large green-black house sized dragon, but to each his own. He sighed and braced his hands on either side of him, grunting with the effort it took to lift himself plus several stones of tarnished metal. His grey eyes glanced up at the sky as he felt the last bit of light filter over the horizon and give way to the eerily bright moon. As he began to unburden his gelding he thanked any listening spirits that he wouldn’t have to stumble around in inky darkness to lay out his equipment. He lifted down several small saddle bags, half a dozen long leather wrapped lengths, and a large bag made of a rubbery gray material. Lastly he unbuckled a simple but deadly looking broad sword made solely for the purpose of hacking and slashing flesh and bone.
The packets, when opened, contained an assortment of talismans, glittering metal tools, dusts, and flat rectangular rocks. He took care to keep all the contents safely parted. Recalling the last time he had accidentely let the rocks touch the dust he gingerly rubbed his fullly regrown eyebtrows. An hour was spent orgainizing his belongings and gazing at the forest thoughtfully. The terrain was fairly flat, but he would have to avoid the trees where the were overly dense. He had marked out their spots earlier. There was two worrisome spots. One to the south ant the other to the south-east where he assumed that the dragon was keeping the young monarch captive.
That was the reason he was keeping him here after all. No one in their sane mind would hunt down a dragon unless there had been a kidnapping of some sort. This kidnapping had been widely publisized though. It had been the current Prince of Hatia that had been taken. Not just a farm lad, but a full blown prince. The king was paying, strangely enough, a king's ransom for the return of his snotty nosed brat.
When the abduction had occurred there had been a rallying of veterans and military men, and women, of every village to attempt Jaref's rescue. They had all ran off to either the western dessert or the northern mountains in hopes of picking up the trail. Only on eman had thought to look in a lace were it was pleasant and full of easy game.
He snorted with derision. Reall, why in the name of Rewyn would a dragon choose a dessert over an ice forest? With a shrug of his broad shoulders he continued his preperations. The thoughtlessness of the others would just make his task easier and he wouldn't have to share the reward. His thought automatically corrected him and he smiled, the crow's feet at the corners of his eyes crinkling merrily. There was one person he would share with, but he didn't mind The...errr...person was a critical part of his workin glife after all.
