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Made in gb
Fresh-Faced New User






As you may already know from previous introductions i am currevtly writing some fiction set in the fictional world of Mithalskard, here is a short extract...

The browns and greens of the glade were bathed in amber sunshine as the sun made its last goodbye over the mountains; it was this time of day the glade of Thead was its most stunning, each small white flower a jewel on the carpet of lush grass and each leaf a perfectly formed cup with which the tree would catch the rays of the sun. Small droplets of dew still preserved between the blades of grass caught the final beams of light casting silver lights amid the glade, as a thousand tiny lights played around on the floor and the glade fell slowly silent, the chirping of crickets and birds fell into a sombre descendo heralding the night, the amber light faded and the blue blanket of night lay over the trees.
You could be fooled into thinking all were sleeping. All were certainly not sleeping, some were still watching.

The serenity was torn asunder by footsteps, not gentle footstep caused by the groves inhabitants but large cumbersome boots, with each step desecrating the delicate flora of the area. Twenty four iron shod boots trampled the delicate flowers into the floor, the intruders cruel blades cutting great chunks from the centuries old wood, large branches tumbling to the ground, being swept up in large muscular arms and bundled into a mound. Deep thumping voices reverberated around the grove as the intruders talked amongst themselves in a foreign dialect, unheard in these lands for many centuries. With the pile set a torch was laid atop it, the cruel tendrils of fire clawing their way across the ancient wood, questing tongues of flame licking at the air spreading to the ground and scorching the grass. The harsh orange light lit the night and bathed everything once more in an orange glow,
With the inferno ripping through the centre of the clearing those responsible were bathed in light, their fur clad frames rippling with muscle and sinew, each clasping a long wooden pole topped with varying iron devices, some were more akin to farming implements other more like weapons of war, all however were deadly. Twelve of these imposing figures strode around the clearing, swinging at trunks and branches gorging great chunks of wood in a wanton display of violence. One of them swung their scythe like weapon in a wide arc, the cruel iron blade biting deeply into the rough bark, the rusted barbs of the blade hooking it in place and making it practically unmovable. This seemed to amuse his companions and their guttural ‘harrumph’ noises deepened and seemed a crude imitation of laughter, only laughter with no mirth or joviality. The man’s knuckles whitened as his corded muscles strained to remove the blade from the great wooden trunk, he breathed deeply and heaved, every ounce of his strength diverted into retrieving his weapon, his barrel of a chest puffed out as he poured every ounce of his will onto shifting the scythe. After a few moments he heaving and grunting he finally relented, standing back to fully survey the extent of his predicament. As he did so his thoughts were immediately cut short as his head was smote to nothing but a fine red mist by an arrow that shot from the darkness outside the light of the fire.

Blue energy trailed from it as it passed unmolested through the marauders head and embedded itself in the tree, still glowing with blue eldritch energy. The strange power that passed through the man’s head incinerated his body from his sternum upwards, the remaining half of his torso fell to the floor with a wet thud, the charred ribs and spine that were left poked upwards, broken and blackened by the sudden blast of heat brought by the arrow. He was without doubt as dead as burned branches that surrounded his corpse. The smell of burning flesh was tangible even above the reek of burning vegetation
It was not until a split second later his comrades realised his fate, by then it was far too late to save themselves as at least twenty lean figures burst into the orange light for the Elves had come and nothing but the gods could stay their wrath.


if you would like to see more then please visit one of these sites and subscribe and share
http://mithalskard.blogspot.com/
http://mithalskard.tumblr.com/

many thanks
Steve
   
 
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