This club is for all the writers out there. I am a writer myself and am working on a fantasy novel. I will post it when I get the chance. Everyone who joins this club can share their writings, novels, or whatever here.
Here is the first chap and the prologue of my book. It is too long to post the entire thing in one post. Enjoy. Prologue Part one. Sven was pretty much a normal teenager that lived in Thrace. Well, not completely normal. For one, he was half barbarian and for another he had an uncanny talent with the sword and bow. He was called Sven the Barbarian by many of the other teens in the town of Tako in the small providence of Thrace. Thrace was merely a territory of the large Kingdom of the Cataphracts and was generally looked down open as inferior by the people of that Kingdom. The Cataphracts, which the Kingdom was named after, were mighty warriors that could fight on foot and fight on horseback with unprecedented skill. They could even shoot bows from behind the battle lines if need be. Cataphracts were noble warriors that fought for the Kingdom’s safety and glory, and unlike the knights of the eastern lands Cataphracts were commoners. They were not of noble blood or rich like knights although some did gain fortunes. But just like the knight, the Cataphract was expected to defend the weak and aid the poor. Despite this, the Thracians despised the Cataphracts. The reason why they despise them is rooted back a hundred years or so back when Thrace was being ruled by the barbaric tribe known as the Huns. Unlike most cases, the Thracians adopted the barbaric Hunnish ways and came to love their Hunnish rulers. They considered themselves a part of the “glorious land of the Huns” as they called it. King Xeric of the Cataphracts decided to drive the barbaric Huns out of the Thracian lands. The Thracians joined the Huns in fighting these invaders. But the Huns soon learned that they were no match for the Cataphracts and retreated back to their own lands. The Thracians fought on but were soon defeated without the leadership and troops of their Hunnish rulers. King Xeric took over Thrace. While his original intentions were to free Thrace, by the war’s end he decided to take control of Thrace as a providence of the Kingdom of the Cataphracts. The Thracians have despised the Cataphracts ever since. Everyone in Thrace hated the Cataphracts, well everyone but Sven. To Sven, the Cataphracts were the most noble and brave warriors he had ever heard of. It was Sven’s dream to become one. This book tells the tale of how he became one and the great deeds he accomplished that not even the greatest knight could hope to accomplish. Chapter one Sven slowly pulled back the arrow in his bow; he took a short time to aim and then he fired. It hit the target right in the center. Sven smiled to himself. He was getting better. Sven had just recently started taking archery lessons in addition to his sword lessons. Sven was a natural with any type of weapon, and he could even fight on horseback with a high level of skill. He had the gifts of a Cataphract. His instructors were astonished by his natural ability, but what surprised them the most was that he naturally used the Cataphract style of fighting. Sven had studied the Cataphract style of fighting and learned to master it. He was probably better than his instructors by now. Sven, pleased with his performance with his bow, started to walk back home. He knew his mother would probably be mad at him for coming home late. He didn’t care that much though. She was always mad about something. Not that he really blamed her. They were always low on money. Sven had lost count of the times his mother had managed to dodge the tax collectors. Sven’s village of Tako was small but it had a large variety of houses. Some where made of stone like the Kingdom sttke, others were made of wood with thatched roofs. Others still were basically large huts in the Hunnish fashion. It was nearing the end of summer in Tako but the leaves on the trees were already beginning to change colors. The grass made a strange cracking sound as Sven walked on it. The Thracian grass was known to do this. Sven didn’t like the grass. When he performed stealth exercises, Sven felt like his lessons were useless because anyone with only one ear could hear him walking from 10 feet away. As he was walking down the street he heard someone calling him. He sighed to himself. It was probably Morgan. Morgan was a strange girl. She was always asking him to deliver letters or pick up packages for her or do something for her. Everything she asked him to do had something to do with Artanoth, a large country to the east of the Kingdom of the Cataphracts. “Sven!” she shouted again. Sven willed himself to walk over to the direction from which she was shouting. She was sitting on her front porch as he came up to her. “Sven, did you deliver the package I gave to you?” “Yes,” Sven answered simply. “Good” she said. “You do realize I’m not your servant,” Sven replied. “Good day,” she said as she walked back inside her house. Sven shook his head, if his mother hadn’t drilled into his head that it was extremely rude to deny a woman’s request he would never bend to Morgan’s demands. Sven continued to walk down the road until he reached his house. As he walked inside his house he heard his Mother yelling, “So you’re finally home! Off practicing with those stupid weapons instead of getting your chores done I bet!” “I did get my chores done; I brought the groceries you asked for!” Sven explained dumping the bag of food on the floor. His mother came over and checked to see if everything she asked for was in the bag. When she saw it was in there she said, “I guess you’re not as lazy as I thought.” That was all the praise Sven ever got from his mother. Sven strolled off to his small room. Sven’s room had a few boxes in the corner with Sven’s old toys, a bed, a small closet to keep his clothes in, and a bookshelf. That was pretty much it besides a sword Sven hung on the wall. It was his father’s sword. Sven still had a hard time believing his father; a barbarian, had married a woman like his mother. Sure, his mother could be a little barbaric at times, but she was hardly anybody a barbarian would fall for. His mother wasn’t that attractive nor did she have any love for bravery or battles and conquests. Sven just assumed his mother was different in the past. Sven sat on his bed and took a book off his bookshelf. It was a book about a famous elven warrior named Menkira. He was famous for driving the orcs out of the Eastern Elven Lands. Most of the Eastern Elven Lands joined his own country after Menkira won the war. They called that nation Menkirith in honor of Menkira. Sven sometimes wished to himself they he could be a great warrior like that elf. Suddenly, Sven heard two sharp knocks on the front door of the house followed by a rapid succession of knocking. Sven knew that only one type of person had that knocking pattern, tax collectors. Sven got his Thracian sword and walked to the door. Not that he was going to kill the tax collectors, it was just a habit resulting from a saying his father had. “Always meet the tax collectors with a sword in your hand because you never know when they’ll try to drag you away from your home.” Sven opened the door. Sure enough there was the tax collector with two soldiers. The taxation had not been this severe at all when the Kingdom controlled the Thracian government. But, thanks to violence by the Thracians, the Kingdom was forced to grant a lot of power over to an appointed governor of Thrace. More like an oppressor of Thrace. There were more homeless people in Thrace than when the Huns first conquered it, who had destroyed many building in the process. Sven knew that he was about to be added to that list of homeless people if he doesn’t do something drastic. But, Sven lived for drastic moments. “Ah, Sven I believe, may I speak to your mother?” the tax collector said smugly. “What do you want to tell my mother?” said Sven matching his smugness. The tax collector grinned, “Tell her that if she does not pay the sum of 300 Thrace dollars immediately she and you will have to find a new living on the streets!” Sven, using his quick wit thought up a plan. “What if I make you a deal?” Sven said. “What kind of deal?” the tax collector responded. “If I can beat both of your soldiers in a sword match, will you leave with a payment of 50 Thrace dollars?” “Of course not!” the tax collector responded. The soldiers pushed the tax collector aside and said, “Out of the way scum, we soldiers of Thrace never turn down a challenge!” Sven smiled. His plan was working. The two soldiers drew their swords and struck battle poses. Sven did the same. They circled each other. One of the soldiers swung his sword vertically while the other soldier swung his sword horizontally. Sven blocked both of the strikes with a diagonal block, and then pushed his blade up in a swift move. The soldiers’ blades flung up in the air clumsily for a moment, and then Sven stepped forward and crouched on his left leg and swung horizontally. The soldiers had to jump back to avoid getting their abdomens sliced. Sven didn’t mean to kill them, just get them off balance and scare them. They began swinging their blades in a rapid succession and Sven began parrying them. Left, right, diagonal, then stabs, Sven blocked them all. Sven began spinning his sword to meet their ever changing strikes. Sven suddenly felt something burn through his blood and he threw an amazingly quick blow that almost knocked the blade out of one of his opponent’s hands. Sven jumped and kicked out both of his legs into the chest of the one of the soldier before he could even lift his hand to attack or defend. This was a move that would have impressed a Dwarf wrestler. The soldier fell over and writhed in pain on the ground. He cursed himself for not wearing his chest armor. Sven was back on his feat in a second after performing that move, and met the other soldier’s vertical strike with a side block. Sven grabbed the man’s wrist and spun him around, then threw him over his shoulder. The man flew in the air and landed rolling on the ground. Sven waited for the man to get back on his feet until he charged and struck his blade down against the man’s sword. The blades locked. The two men stood pushing with all their might on their blades. The soldier couldn’t believe how strong this boy was. Appearances could be deceiving. Sven felt his blood rushing through him and he pushed with all his might. He began to push the man to his knees. Just as Sven was about to overcome him, Sven jumped back and the soldier propelled forward with his sword near to the ground. Sven swinged his sword in a down to up diagonal swing that sent the soldier’s sword sailing. The man got on his feet, but Sven threw a snap kick that sent him flying. Sven performed a roll on the ground and grabbed the soldier’s blade. The inertia of his roll sent him rolling over to where the soldier was lying. Sven pointed both of his blades at the man. The man’s companion, who was lying near Sven’s location, was about to get up when Sven pointed one of his blades at the man’s face. “Alright, we know when we’ve been beaten. We surrender,” the defeated men said in unison. Sven, removing his blades from their faces, stood up and smiled. He gave the soldier his blade back. Sven noticed that the tax collector, like the coward he was, had run away. The soldiers bowed to Sven as an act of honor. Sven bowed back. He turned around and saw his mother standing by the door. “Well, I guess that foolish training of yours does come in handy sometimes. Just remember, violence is never the answer.” Sven laughed, “I know that, Mom.” “Maybe you can put some of that energy to use and go help harvest wheat for John,” his mother said. Sven frowned. John was a farmer in the town who Sven worked for sometimes for extra money. He had to work all day for him though. “I think Sarah is still there working,” his mother said when she saw Sven’s frown. Sven’s mood immediately changed and he dashed off to John’s farm.
Thanks, here are the next chaps. Chapter 2 Sven stretched down slicing up the wheat from the ground and throwing it onto a pile to carry back to John’s storage building. He had been doing this job for two hours, but he didn’t care. He liked to spend time with Sarah. Sarah had moved to the town about two months ago and agreed to work for John in exchange for shelter and food. “So, Sven I heard you showed the tax collector the door in an aggressive way today,” Sarah said. “Yeah, I used a little bit of swordplay to put him in his place,” Sven said. He spinned his rake in an attempt to impress Sarah. She just laughed. “I also heard your sword instructor got mad at you for using Cataphract sword techniques on him,” Sarah said. “He’s just envious that I’m better than him at swordplay,” Sven responded. They continued to work and talk for another hour and a half. Sven showed off to Sarah many times. When they finished their work, they sat down together on John’s field. “Hey Sarah I don’t mean to be blunt, but do you have a family?” said Sven. Sven had wondered why Sarah had showed up so unexpected without a parent or family member. Sarah was silent for a second then she said, “My parents sent me here so I could be safe.” “Safe from what?” Sven asked. “Safe from certain enemies that my father has,” she responded in a careful tone. Sven quieted down, realizing that she did not what to talk about that particular subject. “You know, sometimes I wish something would happen in this town, something dangerous or something. Something exciting, something that could help me proves myself as a warrior,” Sven said in a far off tone. “Be careful what you wish for,” was Sarah’s short reply. Sven didn’t seem to hear her. “I just wish something would happen that could make me more than just a simple village boy, something that could make me a Cataphract!” Sven exclaimed. Sarah tried to hide her sadness as she thought to herself if you only knew. Later, as Sven was walking home, he was confronted by Morgan. “I just wanted to tell you that you are excommunicated from my group,” she said. “What group? What are you talking about?” Sven said. “I don’t have to explain myself to you,” she said. “Oh, by the way, did you deliever that package for me?” “Yes,” Sven said with a confused look on his face. “Good,” she simply said. Sven shook his head. Sometimes that girl acted like she came from another planet. Later in the evening, Sven performed his nighttime rituals. Which mainly involved reading a book, changing into his nighttime clothes, and blowing out his candles. After he had done this, he went to sleep, dreaming about Cataphracts routing an approaching enemy. Little did Sven know that the Cataphracts were being cowards this night. Chapter 3 The enemy slowly approached their prey, the village of Maxius. They were cruel men who wore dark amour. Their helmets covered all of their faces except their evil yellow eyes, and even those were slightly covered by the teeth like edges on their helmets. On top of their helmets a small tower like object rose up from the helmet as well as spikes on all four sides of the helmet. These men carried a large variety of weapons, from pikes with incredibly sharp ends to curved blades made of black metal. Others carried crossbows while others still carried small axes. Most of them carried a large rectangular shield with the image of a skeletal dragon on it. This dragon was the image of the Separian flag. This was all viewed by Marsus, the leader of the 55th army of the Kingdom of the Cataphracts and the last defender of the Hold of Iron. It seemed an eternity ago when King Xeroth ordered him to move his army to the Hill of Iron and stop the Separian army from attacking Maxius. The Hold of Iron was a large providence of the Kingdom that lay south of the Kingdom’s borders. The Hold’s 5 massive forts and various towns were built by the Cataphracts long ago, and now all of the forts and most of the towns had been captured by the Separians. Only Maxius near its eastern border remained unconquered. The Separians came from an empire far from the south. The Separians had never attacked the Kingdom or its providences until now. It was very likely that Mankin, the new emperor of Separia had started this war out of a desire for conquest. Some say that Mankin is not a man but a Dark lord. Marsus had marched his army against the Separians on the Hill of Iron just north of Maxius. At the beginning of the battle, he had 10,000 men, but the Separian army was too strong. His army was driven back to Maxius. He only had 2,000 troops by the time he reached the town. The evil Separians, on the other had, had 10,000 troops remaining after the battle. Just recently 3,000 Cataphracts had arrived to aid Marsus in the defense of the town. They were not the brave men that Marsus expected them to be. They kept saying, “All is lost, the Separians will kill us all!” It made Marsus uneasy to see the Cataphracts, the champions of the Kingdom, so afraid. He knew their fear had to do with more than just the facts that they were outnumbered and they had no horses. Now, Marsus’s army and the Cataphracts had formed a line in front of the town. The Cataphract leader said in a terrified voice, “We cannot hope to defeat these monsters, we must run!” “No, hold the line!” shouted Marsus in response. The Cataphracts were shaking with fear. Their fear was spreading to his own men. There was a long moment of silence, the only sound being the marching of the Separians. Even a man that was both blind and deaf would be able to sense the terror in the air. Suddenly, the Separians stopped marching about 80 feet away from Marsus’s army. Crossbow bolts from the Separians flew through the air, and Marsus’s men rose up their shields in defense. But they realized the bolts weren’t aimed at them. The bolts struck the frightened Cataphracts. The bolts caused relatively few casualties among the Cataphracts, but the bolts achieved their goal. The Cataphracts, the men who were supposed to be the defenders of the Kingdom, ran. There was nothing Marsus could do to stop them from running. He was now forced to fight with his original 2,000. The Separians started to laugh and mock them. Their leader stepped forward and shouted, “Where are your mighty Cataphracts now? They are nothing but cowardly weaklings against Mankin’s warriors!” The Separians laughed even louder. “After this pitiful excuse for an army is destroyed, I can march on your precious Kingdom with the rest of Mankin’s mighty warriors. Your Kingdom will be crushed and its mighty fortresses and cities leveled! Then, the once mighty people that survive will work as slaves in the grand empire of Separia!” Marsus had had enough. He bent an arrow in his bow than fired it directly in the heart of the Separian leader. The man had a look of shock on his face when the arrow struck his chest. He fell over, dead, the look of shock still upon his face. The Separians seemed startled for a moment, but then they started shouting, “Kill them, kill them!” They ran to meet Marsus’s army. Marsus drew his sword. The Separians, leaderless, rushed forward like an unorganized mob. Marsus yelled to his men, “They are just a mob now, and you can easily defeat them, stand and destroy them!” His men gave a battle cry in response. Marsus’s army rushed forward when the Separians were only a few feet away from them. Marsus swung his sword skillfully dispatching two Separians at once with one blow. The Separians were no match for the brave men of the Kingdom. Line after line of the feral Separians disappeared into thin air as its men were slaughtered. The Separian men attempted to regroup and attack Marsus’s men as a disciplined force, but they were quickly scattered by the arrows of 800 archers. These archers were men that lived in the town, who decided to join the battle at the last minute. Also, 200 men from the town, that carried javelins, joined the fight and threw their javelins into the enemy. Almost every javelin found its mark. The Separian attack was slowly turning into a Kingdom attack as Marsus’s army slowly moved forward, killing the Separian mob as they pushed forward. Soon, the Separians were being cut and shot down as easily as a farmer cuts wheat or a skilled huntsman might shoot a deer. After nearly three hours of fighting, 2,800 Separians lay dead at the hands of swords and spears and 1,200 Separians lay dead from arrows. The Separians, broken from these massive casualties, retreated. Marsus ordered his soldiers to charge and finish off these scumbags of the empire. Marsus had only lost 200 hundred men from the melee. They chased the Separians for about 800 hundred feet until they reached a wooded area. Suddenly the retreating Separians stopped, and battle cries emanated from almost every direction. Panic ensued as Marsus’s army fought a desperate battle. It took Marsus only a moment to understand what had happened, the Separian retreat had been a trap to draw his army into a surprise attack. Marsus knew his men could not stand for long, for the Separians had attacked them from both sides. Marsus did what he could to gain control of his army, but realizing this battle was hopeless on this field, ordered his men to retreat. The townsmen archers, who had stayed behind the main army, covered the men as they ran back to the town. Most of the men in the front of Marsus’s flanks and center were butchered by the Separians as they attempted to retreat. When Marsus and his soldiers reached the town, they formed a line again. This time, they were facing a fresh, organized army. Marsus could tell his men were tired, but the Separians were fresh as they charged into their line. Initially, the soldiers faired well against the Separians, but alas, the elite warriors of Separia met the brave, tired defenders just when the front line of the Separians was exhausted. No man could stand against this elite force. Marsus’s men ran, and he made no attempt to stop them. He simply yelled, “Get out as many of the town’s people as you can!” Some ignored this command and ran for their lives, but others helped Marsus evacuate the citizens. As Marsus looked back, expecting to see the Separians rushing at them, he saw that one hundred of his best men were still fighting the Separians. They were attempting to give him time to evacuate the citizens. Marsus did not waste that time. He managed to round up half of the citizens before he was forced to run with the citizens and his army, lest they be overtaken by the Separians and all of them slaughtered. He and the people ran as quickly as they could away from the village. He looked behind to the village and saw smoke. Knowing the fate of the other town’s people, he cried out. Then, he turned away and ran.
You guys are probably wondering why the Dark lord in my book is named Mankin. Let me tell you, I have nothing in common with this guy lol. I just chose this name for my username because he was a character in my book and I did not have a lot of ideas for names.