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and??? the meadhall died with him
The mead hall isn't dead, its just quiet now. I've been busy lately and haven't been able to comment as i would like.
Emperor Umeu 1, imho i think the area you need to work on is connecting your ideas. Your scene transitions need some work and more detail in them to help the reader get a better picture of what is going on. That's just imho.
Though i think you have a good tale here, just with a few minor things to work on.
yeah i know that, that's my main thing i have to work on i think. it's in all my stories.
thanx. but i dont think i'll be writing stories here anymore for atleast 5 months, cuz i lost my edit buton.
and no offence, it was more to keep the story from going off page one.
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couldent you just write it in word and then past it in after you have made your edits? ~:)Quote:
Originally Posted by The Stranger
yeah but when i posted i hadnt lost the button so i couldnt know
btw did you liked the story....
since i cant edit...i'll post the new version...now dont get mad but this isnt finished too
“What was yours is mine. Your land, your possessions and now your life,” the man whispered. He had bowed himself over Leonin Kha.
“sweet dreams, hahaha.”
You could see a maniacal glance appear on the man’s face. Trakis wanted to scream but he couldn’t, he was to scared to do anything. He could only look how the man slit the throat of his dad and said. “Nobody insults Sir John and get away with it, this is a warning to all.”
Warm teardrops stained his face. That man had killed his dad, who would love him now.
Ripped apart by internal feelings, Trakis didn’t noticed that Sir John had seen him.
“Hmm, who do we have here,” Sir John asked rudely. “Are you crying because I killed your daddy? Trakis nodded, and started to cry harder.
“Well, then I will make you join him!” And Sir John raised his sword to strike the young Trakis.
Aaargh, his cry filled the silent landscape with fear. The stranger awoke, again he had that nightmare. The same nightmare he had for a decade but soon this torture would be over. He would kill Sir John for this and then haunt him as he was haunted.
Unable to sleep again the stranger went to sit next to the campfire, waiting for the sun to set so he could continue his journey.
There was a crack of branches, a rustle of leaves, then a tremendous battle cry. Sir John’s guards had no chance as death descended from above. The stranger cleaved his axe in the head of a guard. Crying for his parents as he collapsed. The stranger now unarmed pulled the dying man’s sword out of his casket, and turned around for the next man. He stabbed a charging guard in his stomach and pushed it through him. After that he pulled out his sword and beheaded the man.
With unnerving ferocity the stranger butchered the guards. The arrogant smile on Sir John’s face was wiped out after he realized only four men of his guard were still alive. While panicking he disappeared from the scene, his loyal captain riding behind him. The stranger saw them fleeing but there was nothing he could do, he had to focus on the fight. The last two guards didn’t even resisted, they kneeled down and waited for the devil to come and get them. The stranger cut their throats and looked how their blood mixed with the earth. When the dust rose you could only see two men still standing. One was the stranger, the other was a Balduvian mercenary. The inhabitants of the Balduvian Mountains were known for their courage and strength in battle. This man was no exception. He was a mighty appearance; leaning on his huge battleaxe and his armor and helmet shone in the sun.
He bashed his armor with his axe and uttered a fearsome battle cry. Then he charged the stranger. The stranger not impressed evaded the axe and sticked his feet out. The Balduvian tripped and bit the dust. Enraged by this embarrassing moment he quickly rose and charged again. The Balduvian stood no chance when the stranger evaded the blow from the mighty axe for the second time and swung his blade into the Balduvian’s back. The defeated giant fell on the ground and waited for the stranger to finish it. The stranger quickly went to search for a spear. He took one from a slain guard and returned to the dying giant.
When the stranger stood beside the giant, the man raised his head for the last time. “Se-see you in he-hell,” he coughed. He coughed some more blood and his head fell down on the ground.
The stranger paid no attention to him and drove the spear deep into the man’s chest. The man distends his eyes wide open, and then he was no more. The stranger wasted no time, mounted a horse of one of the guards and disappeared in the direction Sir John had left. He disappeared behind the horizon, leaving a trail of dead man behind.
It was a beautiful night. The sky was bright and the pale moonlight shone upon the stranger. If you looked closer you could see a deadly tired face. He stopped at a tiny tavern, and rode to the stables. When he dismounted his horse the stable boy arrived. “Take extra care of my horse,” the stranger, asked gentle and he tossed a coin to the boy. Then he stumbled inside the tavern. Once inside he asked: “Host can I have a nice hot meal and a place to stay for the night?”
A little old man appeared behind the counter. The stranger assumed he was the host and smiled to him.
“Yes you can, stranger,” the host replied. “That will be 17 silver denarii’s.”
The stranger pulled out a little leather sack out of his pocket. With greedy eyes the host looked at it. How more coins the stranger took out of it, the wider the eyes of the host opened. Never had he seen so much money. After he had paid the host he walked back to an empty table in the corner of the tavern.
He had spent his time resting when after an hour his meal arrived. It looked delicious. He ate and he ate, until he could eat no more.
When he was finished the host came to him and asked: “did you enjoyed the meal, Sir?” “Yes I did, it was delicious,” the stranger replied gentle. “Now I would like to know where my room is.” The host ignored the question and asked: “Wouldn’t you prefer to play some cards with me and those gentlemen over there?”
“No I don’t, I’m very tired and I would like to sleep now. The undertone in the strangers voice made it clear that he couldn’t be persuaded to loose his fortune in one night. Now the host had to seek another way to get money out of the seemingly rich stranger. The host smiled and you could clearly see his toothless mouth as he said: “Just follow me, Sir.” And he subservient lead the way upstairs.
In the middle of the night when the stranger was sleeping, the host sneaked into his room. He silently searched for the little leather sack. He was so busy searching that he didn’t noticed that the stranger was awake. His two eyes were waiting to cross the eyes of the host.
“Hello, what are you doing there,” the stranger asked nicely when his eyes crossed that of the host. Stunned by these words the host didn’t answered.
“What are you doing there?” This time the stranger became mad.
“I…eh…I.” That was all the host could bring out. The stranger stood up from his bed. The host saw this as an opportunity to get rid of the stranger; he raised his knife and tried to stab the stranger in his back. But a fast move of the stranger’s leg made the host fly through the room. With a loud bang he fell on the hard wooden floor. He lied there dazzled by the hard crash, while the stranger gathered his possessions.
“Now I want to know where Sir John’s castle is,” the stranger asked with his normal gentle tone.
“I don’t know where you’re talking about,” was the first answer. Without saying anything the stranger reached for his sword. Immediately the host changed his mind and said:
“Go west, go west and ask it there.”
“If you’re lying I shall return.” And he disappeared from the room.
When you looked east, you could see a rider appear on the horizon. No one knew who he was, but he was going west.
He quickly caught up with a farmer that was bringing his goods to the market.
“Sir John’s castle, where can I find it,” the stranger asked the farmer.
“You must follow this road till it splits in two, then go north,” the cheerful man answered as he smiled. “Though I wouldn’t go there if I was you.”
But the stranger had already vanished from sight. All that remembered the farmer of the stranger’s existence was a dust cloud on the horizon.
The stranger neared his target when the night begun to fall. When he had finally reached Sir John’s castle it was pitch black. He decided to wait for the day, because the castle gates were then opened. He kneeled on the ground and prayed throughout the night:
“Oh Lord, may I succeed in my quest
Let me finish what tried to finish me once
I too shall be brought low by death
But until then let me have glory
May the Ancestor strengthen my hand and guide my blade”
When the sun rose, thunder broke the brittle silence of the land. A surge of raw energy lifted the stranger’s body into the air and briefly, in the heart of the flash, he saw the face of god. Glory surged through him and radiance surrounded him. All things were possible with blessings of the Divine.
With his freshly acquired strength and courage, the stranger joined the pilgrimage of tenants and servants through the gate. Once inside he headed straight for the main building, right in front of the gate. He wanted to enter but two guards were blocking his path.
“What are you doing here,” one guard growled. “Get back to where you belong, scum.”
“Yeah good one Earl,” the other guard chuckled. He was clearly not the smartest of the couple.
“I need to speak with Sir John, it’s important,” the stranger insisted and he tried to work his way past the guards.
“I said go back,” the guard known as Earl raged.
“If you wont let me pass I’ll have to kill you,” the stranger laughed. More and more people gathered around the scene, the other guards didn’t even seemed to notice. Clearly this kind of things happened more than once.
“That’s it,” Earl screamed and he attacked the stranger. Earl was no match for the stranger as he simply stepped aside, evaded the raging Earl and swung his sword into Earl’s back.
“Uh th-that’s f-f-fast,” Earl uttered as he hit the ground with eyes filled with disbelieve. A few people screamed and ran away from all the blood. You could see the fear appear on the faces of people, what started as a funny show turned out to be a cold-blooded massacre. Some guards saw what happened and hurried to the scene.
The stranger quickly turned to the second guard and he raised his sword.
“P-please h-have mercy with good ol’ Phil,” the guard sobbed. “I never wanted to interrupt your p-path, Sir.” But the stranger showed no mercy and rashly executed Phil. He stepped over the dead bodies into the main hall and he could smell victory.
“Sir John, where are you,” the stranger shouted. “Come out and show your ugly face!” A door swung open and Sir John appeared with some of his guards. Behind the stranger more guards came into the main hall. A few raised their bows to kill the stranger.
“Hold your fire,” Sir John ordered. “I want to know why he’s here and who send him.” The guards lowered their bows, everyone could drink the stranger’s blood but Sir John wanted to spare him.
“Who are…,” Sir John said but before he could finish the stranger answered: “Don’t you remember me?” “I’m the son of Leonin Kha, the one you’ve so cowardly killed in his sleep.”
“No…that can’t be.” “You must be dead, no man can rise from his grave.”
“I didn’t died that day, but you did. Now I come to finish what you didn’t.
Remember my name, Trakis Kha, as I will haunt you forever in Hell”
And before the guards could react Trakis pulled out his sword and beheaded Sir John with one mighty blow.
monk what fdo you think of this
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My apologies for not commenting on this story. It is a very good story, but I agree with Monk that it needs a bit of work. To take Monk's example: the transition from the Stranger's dream to the fight with sir John's guards is very awkward. I suggest you drop the dream entirely. The character is supposed to be a stranger: the less we know about him, the better. Don't give it all away in the first scene.
Also, your use of blank lines is confusing. At some places it indicates a transition between scenes, at other it has no function.
Anyway, it was a good story, and I hope we will read more from you in the future.
thanx for your reply and critic...i know what youre saying and i noticed it myself too. (as alot of other people) it comes from this: this story was written for the contest...and i just pasted pieces to it. so i wrote a piece and added it later i added another piece between the original and the 2nd piece...and that way you wont get a real good transition...i'm working on it so it will become one whole story
:bow:
Excellent.
BTW, Congratulations on getting your edit button back ~D .
thank you for noticing
i got a idea...
The Stranger is a assassin who has to kill Sir John.
That will explain the amount of money he has.
The Stranger doesnt know anything of his passed, has no family = the perfect assassin
during the story he'll find out Sir John has killed his father.
in the tavern he'll meet a man wich will join him in his journey. i dunno what part that man will play.
the dream will get a better role...but will get more vague...so the stranger doesnt know hwat the dream wants to tell him
....
what do you guys think
please...
Well, to be brutally honest: you have posted this story twice already, not counting your contribution to the story contest, so I think everybody is losing interest.
Don't get me wrong:, the idea sounds very good, but a storyteller that always tells the same story will find his public drifting away no matter how good his tale is. Perhaps it is time to move on to another story. Later, when most of us will have forgotten, you can go back and suprise us all with an improved and expanded version of "The Stranger's Journey". ~:thumb:
i know...but i dont think youre getting me right...this must get into a book...a book with a few stories///but i understand...i'm already working on a new story...i'll post it soon