I mostly peruse the battle boards. But I've been working on this project for awhile now and finally just started writing a few chapters. Feel free to criticize and tell me what you think. Growing up, I was always told I had a bit of knack for it, so now I'm just trying to exercise and stretch that part of my brain until something great comes out. But anyway here it is.
This is original. I'm a huge fantasy buff, and I created my own fantasy verse a long time ago. It's high fantasy with some steampunk elements added to it; but it's mostly a (hopefully) very original take on the genre. I've always wanted to expand on it and plan on posting a bit more of it here over time, and I'm really curious as to some of the criticisms. I probably won't post much more of this story. I'm hoping to flush out the first few chapters and then move onto the rest.
This chapter's a bit incomplete. I plan on expanding on the dialogue a bit later, and adding a bit more detail about he environment and backgrounds. But I think it's a good jumping off point with what's here. Let me know what else you're craving after reading it.
Feel free to tag me in posts for original stories. I love to read, and I enjoy good stories. Also, throughout school-college most people in my classes would come to me for critiques and suggestions; because I was told I could turn a C paper into an A paper. So by all means, let me know if you want some ideas.
"I can't believe it's finally happening," Galion said, "my first adventure! Gods, I've waited a lifetime for this!" He stood there, waving around a pair of flaming swords in practice. One long, one short, both moved in perfect unison; motions he had spent nearly two decades of his life practicing.
Galion was a pale elf, a race of elves who were generally raised in the subworld. He was bulky for an elf, standing just shy of a hundred and eighty centimeters tall, and weighing just over eighty kilos. His eyes were the traditional glossed black for his race, and his long hair was white with a tint of gray. His skin, however, was slightly tanner than one would expect of a pale elf...though not by much.
"I don't do this for you," his master stated. "I spent a good bit of money for your indentured servitude, and you are of no use to me if you're going to keep spouting of adventures; instead of the proper book tending I paid to have you do!"
Galion smiled at that. His master, Gensin Nimroy, was a miserable bastard to be sure. But after years of serving him, Galion had learned the man wasn't nearly as cold as his demeanor portrayed.
Gensin was exceptionally old for a human, nearing a century and a half years of age. His aging was stunted, no doubt by some sort of spell or magic item. He stood about seven centimeters shorter than Galion, and looked like a sixty-five year old anorexic. His skin was dark, and his hair was deep grey. Most of that hair decorated his face, however, as the rest had disappeared from the top of his head over time.
"My former owner said the same thing when he sold me to you. But I bet he didn't miss me half as much as you will!" Galion teased. He was still dancing around, practicing his swordplay and proper footwork.
Gensin scoffed at the notion. He paid handsomely for Galion eight years ago. The boy could read, something rare in a servant, and had a knack for learning quickly. He had hoped Galion's long lifespan would mean he'd stay a servant for many years to come, and his intelligence would make for a great wizard's assistant. But the damned boy spent more time reading the spell books he was supposed to be organizing to really be worth keeping around.
"Those swords, and that armor you're wearing cost me a small fortune in spell components," Gensin scolded "and I'd appreciate it if you sheathed them, rather than stand here swinging them around like a damned fool! We're awaiting a caravan, and I'd rather you not scare them off."
Galion nodded, and put his weapons away. The two of them had been standing at this particular intersection for a few hours now, waiting for the arrival of some caravan for Galion to accompany to the nearest city. The path was forged through the center of a large, wet, jungled area. It was frequented by merchants, and they often hired a small squadron of bodyguards in case of bandits, or the appearance of any number of wretched beasts that wandered these lands. Apparently, Galion was supposed to join this caravan as one of those bodyguards and earn a small sum for his services.
Galion stood silently for a few minutes, then began wandering around until he found a large enough rock to plop down on. He reached into his backpack and pulled out a spell book given to him by his master and couldn't help but admire it. His first spell book! He turned the pages over and over, checking to make sure he had memorized the right couple of spells. Just to be sure he was prepared, he checked the many pockets sewn into his leather armor to be certain he had the right spell components ready for the spells he had memorized. After ten minutes, he closed the book and turned back to his master, who was now staring off into the distance.
"You know, you're just as responsible for this as I am" Galion said, somewhat more seriously. "Sure, my former owner taught me to wield a blade, and told me grand stories of war and honor. Then we began sparring, and he began teaching. Until one day he simply grew tired of having an apprentice he didn't want; instead of the field hand he had paid for. But then you bought me and showed me magic. You gave me books and watched me practice the spells you had written.” Galion paused for a moment, and a smirk broadened across his face, “Really, if you look at it from my perspective, if you hadn't apprenticed me so well, I wouldn't have been so eager to test my abilities as an adventurer"
"I was practicing my magic, and you weren't supposed to read the damned books, you were supposed to catalogue, organize, and fetch them for me like I had asked you to!" Gensin stated, both amused and drawn into his apprentice's game of words. "How was I supposed to know you'd read my stories, mimic my casting, peruse my spell books, and worst of all, waste my damned spell components!?" Gensin said, "You should be thankful that you're here, and that I didn't teleport you off to some random dimension to fend for yourself!"
"Well, maybe had you been a more attentive master, *I*couldn't have gotten away with so much, and you wouldn't be in this situation..." Galion said playfully.
At that, they both had a smile. They had always had a strange relationship. Gensin being cold and callous, threatening to beat or abandon Galion whenever he was caught not doing his work. But somehow Galion had always gotten the old bastard to smile, despite not really being all that helpful of a servant.
Gensin came over and sat next to Galion. The two of them opened their separate books and studied side by side. Neither wanted to talk about how their time together was nearing its end. They just sat their, reading their books; waiting for time to pass by, and fate to come and force them into their goodbyes.
Thanks for reading,