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So tell me..




ok, i wrote this awhile back, and just found it..
mostly i don't write, which is probably a good idea
but, if you read this, i'd like to know what you think anyway

it's just an intro... to what, i've no idea
it began as a character profile
and evolved a little..

"Enough! I'll no be a victim of your foolishness any longer!" Roegir snatched a rag from his belt and wiped away the clotted goat's milk which dripped from his hair and beard. I tried my hardest to look repentant, but my performance was marred by an escaping giggle. Muttering something under his breath, the old ranger reached into his pocket and pulled out a small marbled stone worn smooth by years of handling. Roegir's Jakin, his focus stone. I realized then that I may have finally gone too far.
"Wait! I'm sorry Roegir! It won't happen again!" My words fell on empty air. The ranger was gone.
I ran.
Through the forest. Across the fallen log. Home. I had to get home. Between the rows of corn I ran. Faster than ever before. Over the gate. Up the path. Across the porch. At last, out of breath, I reached for the door..
And stopped.
I was too late. The voices coming from inside the cottage carried the words which sealed my fate. "...anyone quicker than Bria. The air on a windless day makes more noise than she does, you're right. She'll steal you blind just to see if she can, and give it all back before you know it's missing. But the child has no discipline. She seems to judge everything by it's potential for laughter. Studying isn't entertaining so she doesn't do it. She knows every rock, tree, and shadow in the woods, but not a single spell from her spellbook. I cannot teach a child if the child refuses to learn.
I'm sorry but I've done all I can."
For a moment my mother's crying was all I could hear. Then a sigh, and my father's weary voice. " I guess that's it then..." I didn't wait for the words I knew were coming next. Off the porch and around to the bedroom window I ran. Silently I climbed in and grabbed my few belongings from beneath the bed. Tears began to blur my vision as I kissed my sleeping sister goodbye. I longed to wake her, to tell her not to worry, but I couldn't risk any noise. I slid my spellbook beneath her pillow. Though useless to me, I knew it would serve her well. She had a gift for learning spells and such. And I knew that with me gone she would need it.
Orynan Daerlus. Unbidden, unwanted, the name forced it's way into my thoughts. Choking back a sob, I slipped out the window for the last time. Orynan Daerlus. Chicken farmer. Practitioner of Evil. Lienholder of every inch of my father's property. And now, if I stayed, the man I'd be forced to marry.
As I headed for the woods, and the only freedom left to me, I checked my pack for the one thing I'd ever stolen and not returned. A torn and faded parchment upon which was drawn a map. Though I still harbored feelings of guilt for having taken it, they were far outweighed by the knowledge and reassurance that I had somewhere to go.
Somewhere called Wallendara..



3 blog comments below

Sounds like a very interesting story. What's the background behind this?
TheGremlyn on Tue Apr 02, 2013 12:17 am
I like the style of writing. Not very easy to write in the first person, yet you got it right. You obviously have talent there, so why not continue with the story? Is it going to be a short story or a novel?
deanhills on Tue Apr 02, 2013 6:33 am
There was a fantasy game I was playing for awhile where you had to stay in character. It was hard for me to do that with so little to go on; rogue, dagger, no spells. So I made up some back story in my head. One day I wrote it down..
Sometimes I think I could make a whole story out of it, but I dunno
onebadpenny on Thu Apr 04, 2013 9:24 pm



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