Post by Topaz on Jun 17, 2006 0:13:16 GMT -5
This is the prologue to the book I am writing, tell me wether or not you would read the book by the prologue, also advice is always nice.
The cool night air was nice on Venezolo’s face. He and his wife Margrett had just
migrated into a little town called Teirro located on the vast plains of Valadar. The small thatched
houses lined a single dirt road, worn by years of use. They watched as many lit their fires for the
cool night as it rapidly approached.
“We’re finally here Margrett, and not a moment too soon. Our son almost arrived during
the journey.” Venezolo said smiling at his wife while his brown hair flowed in the wind.
“Yes, but I think that we barely made it for our son is coming now.” she rasped weakly.
“I will go fetch the healers to deliver our baby, I’ll be back as soon as I can, hang in
there.” he yelled for he was already running down the streets.
It had nearly been six months after the baby was born. Everybody was very interested
with the baby’s brown hair and dark blue eyes.
“We have decided to name him Rogan.” They had told people proudly. One night the
little half-year old Rogan crawled out of the house and into the backyard where he playfully
talked to trees and plants. The small two story thatched house loomed over him like an out of
place giant in his small world. He said the only word he knew over and over.
“Wogan.”he smiled.
“Wogan.” he said again. Soon he discovered the painted flowers and started smelling the
welcoming aroma. There in the flower bed is where little Rogan fell to sleep.
Meanwhile in the house Rogan’s father slept with wonderful dreams of his wife and
child. They were camping together by a small brook sitting next to each other by the fire.
“Wogan.” his son cried with joy as a stick that he held in his tiny hands had caught on
fire. Black smoke curled from the flame. Getting up Venezolo went to the tiny brook for a drink
filling his families water skins. Returning he sat down putting the water skins down. His seat was
a lot hotter so he stood up looked down and saw that the stick his son had earlier was in his chair.
Silently laughing he put the burning stick into the hot fire. Sitting down again he noticed that his
chair was still hot. Deciding that the chair had to cool down he stood back up. He was still hot
and getting hotter feeling as though he was getting burned.
Venezolo’s eyes shot open awakened from his dream he saw that the house was in
flames. Coughing he ran to the door, the flames were too high. Slowly the flames started licking
his clothes. He coughed again as he desperately tried to figure out a way to escape. A howling
scream of pain was heard from outside which he knew belonged to his beloved wife Margrett.
Anger surged through his veins like a hot knife through butter. Grabbing his sword he jumped
through the bedroom window shattering the glass, landing badly on his right hip while pain flew
through his body.
Hovering over a bloody stump stood a dark cloaked figure, blood dripping from its rapier.
The figure looked up. Fear shown now on Venezolo’s face, it was a fade one of the most
corrupted creatures to walk the earth, with its long fingers, grease colored skin, and eyes so black
they sent shivers down Venezolo’s spine. The fade lowered his aged hood to show hair darker
than his skin if that was possible; his ears were long like an elves. He slowly moved toward
Venezolo, he seemed to glide across the ground. His body emitted a light that was so black it
seemed to fill the whole world with darkness.
“I see that you have come to redeem your loved one, don’t worry she died nice and slow.”
The fade laughed cruelly freezing Venezolo’s bones. The fade lifted its rapier still dripping with
Margrett’s blood. For the second time Venezolo’s anger seethed over, he ran for the fade sword
ready for combat. The fade quickly dodged the attack. Turning around Venezolo was barely able
to parry an attack for his chest. Swinging his sword quickly back Venezolo missed the fade’s
stomach, but got its thumb. Blood went gushing into the air, spraying onto the sword. The fade
angrily struck with all the force he could muster. Venezolo trying to parry loses a grip on his
sword. Flying through the air the sword landed behind the burning house where Rogan still
peacefully slept. Venezolo was quick to think grabbing a piece of burning timber from the house
ready to fight again.
“So you want to play with fire do you” the fade sneered. “Two can play at that
game...Mua’zaka!” A black ball of fire hovered over the fade’s hand “Die.” he shouted as he
threw it. The black fire hit Venezolo in the stomach, knocking him back onto his back, but it
didn’t really hurt. While wondering what the point of this fade’s spell was the fade whispered
into his ear.
“I hope that your child likes fire.” he chuckled. As he said these words Venezolo’s
stomach burst into a burning pain. The burning started spreading like wildfire throughout his
body, he felt as if he had just been tossed into the sun.
“Rogan.” he screeched as he slowly burnt away. After the assault on the town all that
remained of Venezolo was his crisp, black bones as they smoked into the clear night sky.
Rogan had awoken with his fathers blade flying through the air, barely missing his head,
but clipped his ear. There he cried, but there was no one to comfort him. Twisting and turning his
ear that had been cut now looked pointed and abnormal. Tossing a bit more Rogan finally fell
back to sleep.
“I found an infant that was still alive” cried an elf.
“Bring the baby to me, unfortunately it is the only thing that had lived through this
horrible attack. Now the town of Teiro is no more” the lead elf cried back. Slowly the elf brought
Rogan soundly asleep to his leader.
“This sword was also by the infant. Look it is elven made this child must be special, even
one of his ears are different.” the elf said holding out the sword. The leader gently shook Rogan
to wake up.
“Wogan” Rogan softly cried.
“Rogan huh, then that is what you will be named” the elf said softly.
The cool night air was nice on Venezolo’s face. He and his wife Margrett had just
migrated into a little town called Teirro located on the vast plains of Valadar. The small thatched
houses lined a single dirt road, worn by years of use. They watched as many lit their fires for the
cool night as it rapidly approached.
“We’re finally here Margrett, and not a moment too soon. Our son almost arrived during
the journey.” Venezolo said smiling at his wife while his brown hair flowed in the wind.
“Yes, but I think that we barely made it for our son is coming now.” she rasped weakly.
“I will go fetch the healers to deliver our baby, I’ll be back as soon as I can, hang in
there.” he yelled for he was already running down the streets.
It had nearly been six months after the baby was born. Everybody was very interested
with the baby’s brown hair and dark blue eyes.
“We have decided to name him Rogan.” They had told people proudly. One night the
little half-year old Rogan crawled out of the house and into the backyard where he playfully
talked to trees and plants. The small two story thatched house loomed over him like an out of
place giant in his small world. He said the only word he knew over and over.
“Wogan.”he smiled.
“Wogan.” he said again. Soon he discovered the painted flowers and started smelling the
welcoming aroma. There in the flower bed is where little Rogan fell to sleep.
Meanwhile in the house Rogan’s father slept with wonderful dreams of his wife and
child. They were camping together by a small brook sitting next to each other by the fire.
“Wogan.” his son cried with joy as a stick that he held in his tiny hands had caught on
fire. Black smoke curled from the flame. Getting up Venezolo went to the tiny brook for a drink
filling his families water skins. Returning he sat down putting the water skins down. His seat was
a lot hotter so he stood up looked down and saw that the stick his son had earlier was in his chair.
Silently laughing he put the burning stick into the hot fire. Sitting down again he noticed that his
chair was still hot. Deciding that the chair had to cool down he stood back up. He was still hot
and getting hotter feeling as though he was getting burned.
Venezolo’s eyes shot open awakened from his dream he saw that the house was in
flames. Coughing he ran to the door, the flames were too high. Slowly the flames started licking
his clothes. He coughed again as he desperately tried to figure out a way to escape. A howling
scream of pain was heard from outside which he knew belonged to his beloved wife Margrett.
Anger surged through his veins like a hot knife through butter. Grabbing his sword he jumped
through the bedroom window shattering the glass, landing badly on his right hip while pain flew
through his body.
Hovering over a bloody stump stood a dark cloaked figure, blood dripping from its rapier.
The figure looked up. Fear shown now on Venezolo’s face, it was a fade one of the most
corrupted creatures to walk the earth, with its long fingers, grease colored skin, and eyes so black
they sent shivers down Venezolo’s spine. The fade lowered his aged hood to show hair darker
than his skin if that was possible; his ears were long like an elves. He slowly moved toward
Venezolo, he seemed to glide across the ground. His body emitted a light that was so black it
seemed to fill the whole world with darkness.
“I see that you have come to redeem your loved one, don’t worry she died nice and slow.”
The fade laughed cruelly freezing Venezolo’s bones. The fade lifted its rapier still dripping with
Margrett’s blood. For the second time Venezolo’s anger seethed over, he ran for the fade sword
ready for combat. The fade quickly dodged the attack. Turning around Venezolo was barely able
to parry an attack for his chest. Swinging his sword quickly back Venezolo missed the fade’s
stomach, but got its thumb. Blood went gushing into the air, spraying onto the sword. The fade
angrily struck with all the force he could muster. Venezolo trying to parry loses a grip on his
sword. Flying through the air the sword landed behind the burning house where Rogan still
peacefully slept. Venezolo was quick to think grabbing a piece of burning timber from the house
ready to fight again.
“So you want to play with fire do you” the fade sneered. “Two can play at that
game...Mua’zaka!” A black ball of fire hovered over the fade’s hand “Die.” he shouted as he
threw it. The black fire hit Venezolo in the stomach, knocking him back onto his back, but it
didn’t really hurt. While wondering what the point of this fade’s spell was the fade whispered
into his ear.
“I hope that your child likes fire.” he chuckled. As he said these words Venezolo’s
stomach burst into a burning pain. The burning started spreading like wildfire throughout his
body, he felt as if he had just been tossed into the sun.
“Rogan.” he screeched as he slowly burnt away. After the assault on the town all that
remained of Venezolo was his crisp, black bones as they smoked into the clear night sky.
Rogan had awoken with his fathers blade flying through the air, barely missing his head,
but clipped his ear. There he cried, but there was no one to comfort him. Twisting and turning his
ear that had been cut now looked pointed and abnormal. Tossing a bit more Rogan finally fell
back to sleep.
“I found an infant that was still alive” cried an elf.
“Bring the baby to me, unfortunately it is the only thing that had lived through this
horrible attack. Now the town of Teiro is no more” the lead elf cried back. Slowly the elf brought
Rogan soundly asleep to his leader.
“This sword was also by the infant. Look it is elven made this child must be special, even
one of his ears are different.” the elf said holding out the sword. The leader gently shook Rogan
to wake up.
“Wogan” Rogan softly cried.
“Rogan huh, then that is what you will be named” the elf said softly.