Ho-hmmm, what to say? Well, here is the first part of the fiction for the Tale of Fantasy gamers (gotta love those bonus points, ey? ). Enjoy.
On the road to war
It was the end of a long, cold, night on duty as the guardsman peered wearily out into the morning mist. In the east, the sun had not yet fully risen, but the first rays of sunlight breaking through the grey haze that lay across the land signaled the end of the night.
The guard turned away from the dull view beyond the barred gate, looking for his sack and pike. He was just about to pick them up, ready to head for home, when the sound of galloping hooves drew his attention. Turning back swiftly, he looked out into the mist once more.
It did not take long before the source of the sounds became apparent. A black horse broke through the mist and came to a halt before the wooden gates. The rider, skillfully reining in the rearing horse, called out loudly. "Unbar the gates, I bear the seal of his lordship!" As he spoke, he held aloft a scroll for the guard to see.
The guard grumbled as he grabbed his pike, left the guard hut and trudged toward the village gate. Just a few more minutes and it would have been someone else's problem. "The worst of luck..."
"Come man, look alive there! Throw open the gate I say!" The rider, whoever he might be, was clearly impatient; not that the guard cared. He was tired and cold, and wanted nothing more than that this annoyance would go away so that he could be off home for a warm meal and a warm bed.
Dragging the heavy wooden latch out from it's resting place, the guard slowly pushed open one side of the gate. Even before the gate was fully open, the rider had rode through, coming to a halt beside the guard. "Tell me, my good man, where might I find the..." he paused as he looked down at the note he held in his hand, "...the Treeshade Tavern? Do you know it?"
The guard looked back glumly at the rider, who was clearly a foreigner. Did he know it? What sort of question was that, it was the only tavern in the village. He pointed vaguely down the street by way of response, "Straight ahead, opposite the village hall...can't miss it."
The rider tipped his hat and spurred his horse forward, galloping down the street further into the village. The guard, meanwhile, trudged back to close the gate, all the while muttering something about ungrateful city-folk.
The rider, oblivious to the guard's ill-temper, had already found his destination. He paused for a moment, looking up at the old building. Two storeys tall and worn by the elements, it was not an impressive sight. Shrugging, the rider dismounted swiftly, making for the tavern door.
Upon entering the tavern, the rider was greeted with a familiar sight: a dimly lit room, filled with heavy wooden tables, candles melted directly onto their worn surfaces. Against one wall was a bar, of sorts, behind which dozed a greying man. Scattered around the rest of the big room, dotted here and there, were a few other men.
Moving to the bar, he woke the dozing man's sleep with a loud crash, as he brought his gloved hand down on the wood. He waited a second for the man to wake fully, ignoring the dirty look that he received for his trouble. "I am looking for Siegfried von und zu Engelshorst."
The barman didn't answer, but just stared blankly at the rider, who repeated his query. "Siegried von und zu Engelshorst, do you know where I can find him?" This second request was greeted with the same blank stare. Frustration showing, the rider turned to look around the room. Finding no help there, he turned back. "A young man, tall, dark haired... always carries a cane with him?"
This description, it seemed, helped for the old man's face lit up immediately. "Ah, ya me'n th' yong-un. 'e'll be down soon, nu-dubt. Yer we'com' to wait fo' 'im. 'ave a broth, do ye' good."
"I have to see him now, with the utmost haste. Tell me, where can I find him? He has a room here, which?" Without noticing it, the rider had begun tapping his fingers impatiently against the bar, irked by these delays.
"Yer'll jus' 'ave to wait, can't tell jus' anyone ye kno', bad fer b'iness." The old man was stubborn in his refusal, and the ever increasing frustration of the rider did little to change his mind. And so it went back and forth for some time. It was not until some minutes later, as the argument was in full swing, that the matter was resolved when the barman suddenly stopped and pointed across the room. "Ther' 'e is."
Without another word, the rider turned his back on the barman and strode swiftly across the room toward the man. As he went, he looked the man up and down. His gaze found a youthful man, in his early twenties by the look of him, with a tall but slender frame and long black hair.
"Mein Herr? ...Siegfried!" The rider spoke before even he had reached the man standing at the foot of the stairs. "I am Hannes Stürmer, courier for his lordship. I bring an urgent message for you." Coming to a halt in front of the young man, the courier pulled a sealed message from within his jacket. Handing over the document, he added: "I am instructed to ensure that you read it immediately."
Nodding, Siegfried opened the message and began to read.
I really like what you have so far,
so hurry up with more!
I want to keep reading aha.
"An Ancient blade shattered in the war of the beard, almost symbolic of that feud. Forged by the Dwarfs, enchanted by the Elves, broken by their conflict."
+++ Teclis +++
Originally Posted by gingusdan
A Melta-Bomb? Not in this recession! Go get 'em!
Originally Posted by KaKlick
Okay, Lorenzo, I gotta ask...
Do you naturally speak in psuedo-haikus? O.o