RegularHumanMode
Portal
- Joined
- Jul 6, 2013
- Location
- Somewhere
So this is just something I am working on during the few occasions I have nothing better to do. The best way to describe it would be a Nordic Action Drama/Tragedy. It is sort of like if MacBeth met the beginning of Oedipus (minus the Norman Bates). Although it is a fantasy world, it is heavily influenced by Norse culture.
But anyway, here is chapter 1! Just a short and sweet intro that will set the stage for the stage (not a typo):
Chapter 1: Wait Until Morning
The king stood up from his bed.
Another sleepless night, he thought to himself. Einar walked to a pitcher of ale he had left by his nightstand the night before. The stone floors felt cold against his feet as he walked. When he reached the table on which the pitcher was sitting he eyed the metal cups next to it. Choosing to ignore this option, the king drank straight from the vessel. How long has it been since I last rested well? Must be about three months. He reminisced, almost nostalgically.
It had been three months since the death of the queen, and since then a particularly harsh winter had come to Nordriheim, which seemed to compound the grim mood that had fallen on the kingdom. Too many problems had plagued Nordriheim in recent memories. With another long winter the citizens outside of cities will face famine. On the other hand, the citizens inside the city will only go hungry.
As the king drank, he heard something.
Footsteps? Who would disturb me this early in the morning? He thought as the wooden door to his quarters opened slowly. The king raised his eyebrows as he looked at the man before him. There stood a stranger with a scar across his left cheek. “What business brings you to my quarters? If this can wait until morning I might kill you,” said Einar to the man.
“I assure you, this can’t wait” replied the stranger. With this, he produced a knife from his sleeve and charged the king. As he swung wildly, Einar grabbed the man’s knife-arm.
“I have killed dozens of cocky fools like you before breakfast!” the king yelled back in challenge, taunting the seemingly foolish assassin. He squeezed the man’s wrist before the would-be assassin dropped his blade.
The stranger reacted by striking out with his left arm at Einar’s kidney. As the king stumbled backwards, the assassin scrambled for his knife. As he took a second attempt to kill the king, Einar grabbed the metal pitcher and struck him across the head. Einar stood over the man who lay sprawled across the floor.
“So, who sent you? Was it that ungrateful son of mine?” questioned the king. “What am I saying, of course it is! No one else would be foolish enough to try and kill me in my own keep.” Einar stretched his arms as he laughed. “Forgive me, been awhile since I’ve done anything like this. Gotten soft.”
“Winter take you!” yelled the man. Knife still in hand, he slashed at Einar’s right hamstring. The king’s knee buckled as the man shot up to his feet. He was now standing over the fallen king. Their positions had changed in an instant. The man prepared to deliver a final blow, but hesitated.
“Congratulations,” said the king, “you’ve beaten up an old man, but the question is: do you have the balls to finish what you’ve started?” He smiled bitterly at the the man whose business couldn’t wait until morning.
The knife fell swiftly.
But anyway, here is chapter 1! Just a short and sweet intro that will set the stage for the stage (not a typo):
Chapter 1: Wait Until Morning
The king stood up from his bed.
Another sleepless night, he thought to himself. Einar walked to a pitcher of ale he had left by his nightstand the night before. The stone floors felt cold against his feet as he walked. When he reached the table on which the pitcher was sitting he eyed the metal cups next to it. Choosing to ignore this option, the king drank straight from the vessel. How long has it been since I last rested well? Must be about three months. He reminisced, almost nostalgically.
It had been three months since the death of the queen, and since then a particularly harsh winter had come to Nordriheim, which seemed to compound the grim mood that had fallen on the kingdom. Too many problems had plagued Nordriheim in recent memories. With another long winter the citizens outside of cities will face famine. On the other hand, the citizens inside the city will only go hungry.
As the king drank, he heard something.
Footsteps? Who would disturb me this early in the morning? He thought as the wooden door to his quarters opened slowly. The king raised his eyebrows as he looked at the man before him. There stood a stranger with a scar across his left cheek. “What business brings you to my quarters? If this can wait until morning I might kill you,” said Einar to the man.
“I assure you, this can’t wait” replied the stranger. With this, he produced a knife from his sleeve and charged the king. As he swung wildly, Einar grabbed the man’s knife-arm.
“I have killed dozens of cocky fools like you before breakfast!” the king yelled back in challenge, taunting the seemingly foolish assassin. He squeezed the man’s wrist before the would-be assassin dropped his blade.
The stranger reacted by striking out with his left arm at Einar’s kidney. As the king stumbled backwards, the assassin scrambled for his knife. As he took a second attempt to kill the king, Einar grabbed the metal pitcher and struck him across the head. Einar stood over the man who lay sprawled across the floor.
“So, who sent you? Was it that ungrateful son of mine?” questioned the king. “What am I saying, of course it is! No one else would be foolish enough to try and kill me in my own keep.” Einar stretched his arms as he laughed. “Forgive me, been awhile since I’ve done anything like this. Gotten soft.”
“Winter take you!” yelled the man. Knife still in hand, he slashed at Einar’s right hamstring. The king’s knee buckled as the man shot up to his feet. He was now standing over the fallen king. Their positions had changed in an instant. The man prepared to deliver a final blow, but hesitated.
“Congratulations,” said the king, “you’ve beaten up an old man, but the question is: do you have the balls to finish what you’ve started?” He smiled bitterly at the the man whose business couldn’t wait until morning.
The knife fell swiftly.