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krwlz · 10-08-2003, 04:18 PM

Im planning on writing a medieval dfantasy type of short novel. Today, I wrote the prologue:

Well, here it goes, tell me what you think...

______________

PROLOGUE

A grizzled veteran watched from the city wall as the stream and meadow that bordered the east side of the city came in to focus in the light of the rising sun. This was Gregg’s favorite moment of the day, a moment when he could watch the animals that lived off this meadow roam freely, before the noise of the daily bustle could frighten them back into the silent recluse of the surrounding woods.
He watched as a blue heron, the symbol of his city, fished in the clear water of the stream. As the heron was about to prey on a tiny minnow, a noise made the bird pick up his head, and stare intently at the surrounding woods. Gregg turned his gaze to where the bird’s attention was focused, just in time to see the first rank of what seemed to be an innumerable army, exit the woods and break into a charge at the wall, screaming war cries.
The warning bells called all men at arms to the wall and Gregg struggled to his feet. He looked in horror as the poor heron struggled to escape the madness that now encompassed the meadow. It was then he heard the shout, followed by hundreds of long bows letting loose their deadly shafts. The hail of arrows took the helpless bird out of the sky as they fell into the masses of warriors below.
Gregg could not help but consider what kind of omen the trampled and dieing heron represented for his dear city. He did not consider long however, for it was now that the first of the scaling ladders rose above the wall before his face.
The veteran loosed his long sword from its scabbard, and hastily bent to scope up his shield as the face of a screaming warrior appeared at the top of a ladder, and he lashed out blindly with his shield. The brutal smash to the face sent the enemy screaming to the ground, but Gregg hardly had time to fully gain his feet when another warrior replaced the one he had just dispatched.
Gregg opened the man’s throat in a shower of blood, before he could climb fully over the wall. Gregg let the body hit the cold stone, as training and experience took over.
He rushed forward to throw the ladder from the wall before more men could ascend to Gregg’s level.
He had the satisfaction of seeing the ladder crash to the ground before he turned to help his fellow defenders fight back the human tidal wave that was spilling onto the wall in more and more locations. It was not long before Gregg found himself surrounded on both sides by a wall of enemies. Fight as he may, the clear space around him slowly shrank back toward him.
Soon the swarm of men fought through Gregg’s defenses, and overcame him by sheer mass. As he lay on the cool stones on the castle wall, Gregg could see the sun just now clearing the horizon.
“Well”, he decided, as his vision began to diminish to a black nothingness, “At least it was a beautiful morning…”
The image of the mutilated and trampled heron replaced the sun as Gregg’s last breath rattled in his chest.

EDITED: Because I made changes to the original

10-08-2003, 04:18 PM	#1 (permalink)
krwlz Fledgling Dead Head Location: Clarkson U.	Prologue to a Medieval Fantasy Im planning on writing a medieval dfantasy type of short novel. Today, I wrote the prologue: Well, here it goes, tell me what you think... ______________ PROLOGUE A grizzled veteran watched from the city wall as the stream and meadow that bordered the east side of the city came in to focus in the light of the rising sun. This was Gregg’s favorite moment of the day, a moment when he could watch the animals that lived off this meadow roam freely, before the noise of the daily bustle could frighten them back into the silent recluse of the surrounding woods. He watched as a blue heron, the symbol of his city, fished in the clear water of the stream. As the heron was about to prey on a tiny minnow, a noise made the bird pick up his head, and stare intently at the surrounding woods. Gregg turned his gaze to where the bird’s attention was focused, just in time to see the first rank of what seemed to be an innumerable army, exit the woods and break into a charge at the wall, screaming war cries. The warning bells called all men at arms to the wall and Gregg struggled to his feet. He looked in horror as the poor heron struggled to escape the madness that now encompassed the meadow. It was then he heard the shout, followed by hundreds of long bows letting loose their deadly shafts. The hail of arrows took the helpless bird out of the sky as they fell into the masses of warriors below. Gregg could not help but consider what kind of omen the trampled and dieing heron represented for his dear city. He did not consider long however, for it was now that the first of the scaling ladders rose above the wall before his face. The veteran loosed his long sword from its scabbard, and hastily bent to scope up his shield as the face of a screaming warrior appeared at the top of a ladder, and he lashed out blindly with his shield. The brutal smash to the face sent the enemy screaming to the ground, but Gregg hardly had time to fully gain his feet when another warrior replaced the one he had just dispatched. Gregg opened the man’s throat in a shower of blood, before he could climb fully over the wall. Gregg let the body hit the cold stone, as training and experience took over. He rushed forward to throw the ladder from the wall before more men could ascend to Gregg’s level. He had the satisfaction of seeing the ladder crash to the ground before he turned to help his fellow defenders fight back the human tidal wave that was spilling onto the wall in more and more locations. It was not long before Gregg found himself surrounded on both sides by a wall of enemies. Fight as he may, the clear space around him slowly shrank back toward him. Soon the swarm of men fought through Gregg’s defenses, and overcame him by sheer mass. As he lay on the cool stones on the castle wall, Gregg could see the sun just now clearing the horizon. “Well”, he decided, as his vision began to diminish to a black nothingness, “At least it was a beautiful morning…” The image of the mutilated and trampled heron replaced the sun as Gregg’s last breath rattled in his chest. EDITED: Because I made changes to the original Last edited by krwlz; 10-12-2003 at 02:10 PM..