Trevor B Harper
๐ฏ๐ฝ๐ ๐ฎ๐ธ๐ฝ๐๐๐น๐พ๐๐๐๐'๐ ๐๐๐๐ ๐๐พ๐๐
Good morning, day or night to you, my fellow RpN visitor.
You might have clicked on this thread for many reasons: You've been asked to, you were bored, you clicked on my signature, but one way or the other, this peeked your interest. Was it the whole idea that caught your eye? The name? Or the story it self?
Anyway, less about that, more about the goal. This thread's goal is but a simple one. I shall be writing a mini-novel based on the character I have created for one of my roleplays, and this mini novel's progress will be posted here, be it a 50 word paragraph or a 6.000 word long chapter, everything I write associated with it will be gathered here, and then when it's done - polished.
During the process you may also interfere with my work and give me advice on how to improve and polish my writing. Actually, not only you may, but you are asked to. This will both help improve my writing and roleplaying skills, as well as world creation, character development and other various aspects of creative button pressing. It is really a form of art, isn't it?
Anyhow, without further ado, I am proud to present to you:
"Encircled by a dense forest full of lanky trees rests a village, home of the few surviving Halflings in Springwyn. One of which is named Lycus. A once young and vigorous boy will now take on a life shaping adventure that will determine his future. This journey will prove to be the one what will shape his destiny and bend it to either side โ good or bad. In a land full of magic and wonders he will face great dangers, learn many valuable lessons and make life or death decisions."
The very first update with some of the mini-novel will come soon, as soon as I write enough to make it public, so stay subscribed. ^^
-------
--------------------------
The peace around Flowstocke was heard to be broken by the sound of wood clashing. Lycus' friends were acting like complete toddlers, whacking each other with makeshift weapons. It was quite a show for the local blacksmith to see. They did look the bunch and were only about twice the age, only a tad bit less than him, but even for them this was quite low in his opinion. Their childish brawl sent Lycus into memory land where he was still but a child.
The sound of wood whacking reached his ears as he watched them brawl it out in a field of grass and flowers. A bunch of seven-to-nine year olds fighting with wooden swords and daggers to prove who learned the most from their classes at Yorn's lessons. Ever since they were little they were trying to prove that their kind is not โincompleteโ, although many, many think so. Every other type of species around the entire globe except for their own brotherly kind think so. Even humans, those who had been in good terms with Halflings recently turned their backs, leaving them like outcasts in the world.
Picking any type of effective herb from the grass fields he tried to ignore the sound of wood whacking and breaking, the yells of children who's imaginations took them to a far away land plunged in war. In this land they are the warriors, and the grass field is their kingdom. In their eyes, the trees are giant monsters of all kinds that try to eat them And even though this threat had risen, they are still spitting at each other's faces, ready to claw their enemy's eyes out.
โHey, flower boy! Going to bring those to your papa?โ A grinning warrior said, wielding heavy iron armors in his own imagination. He was the 'modern day bully' of the group, always picking on those who did nothing to deserve it. This heartless Halfling always finds the weakest spot in one's childhood, the biggest scar, and opens it up again with his verbal blade. After the warrior's words, his friends and foes laughed at it, thinking of it as a joke.
โGet off my back, Randall!โ This was the only thing stopping Lycus from being a charming young lad and sometimes turned him so gloomy he would stay inside the attic of his home for hours. The feeling he felt that day was either a feeling of shame because his father died from a bandit attack, or an emotional struggle to keep his father out of his thoughts, but the latter used to fail most of the time.
Wood whacking sounds quickly after echoed again through the still field of grass in an opening encircled with trees. A small area with a stump of a chopped down tree later the most favorite place for Lycus to hang out.
A pile of wooden logs rested atop of Lycus' shoulders and arms as he carried them back to his house โ a small wooden shack with only a few rooms to live in. Even though it was barely enough for only two people, living in a huge castle and having breakfast brought to you into bed was not a dream Lycus pursued. He would trade all of the mentioned into some knowledge and studies. And a proper family with his father still alive. Sometimes a thought crosses Lycus' mind of his father not being an inter-city trader.
The logs rolled down from his arms onto the hard wooden floor by a cobblestone fireplace still smoldering from lunchmaking. A blue haired, wrinkly-faced woman not much higher than himself greeted him with a smile filled with excitement and joy. Lycus felt something of great importance happened or is about to happen, as his mother is not always that way.
โI've got good news for you, Lycus.โ The woman approached Lycus with the same said smile and an envelope in her hand with a rose insignia on the seal. She handed Lycus the envelope with a slight giggle out of happiness.
โWhat is this, mother?โ Lycus asked curiously as he ripped the seal off the crumbled paper envelope and opened it. A quite short letter could be seen inside. Lycus spread the paper and read it out loud.
โGreetings, fellow denizens of Springwyn.
In the name of the Wormingshire Academy President Ayla Sominger, I, her right hand, send this letter to all corners of the continent. The long awaited Wormingshire Academy of Arcane Arts is opening it's doors for the first time! This is a historical event for Springwyn and the entire world, so we are accepting applications from denizens all around the continent to join our ranks and learn the art of Magic in a community where it is taught the best. We will be awaiting your letters of interest for approval or denial. May the Gods be with you.
-Prontus Valmont, Right Hand of Wormingshire Academy President Ayla Sominger.โ
โDoes this mean I can write a letter, mother?โ He asked hoping for a positive answer. This was all he wanted from a very young age. Instead of whacking and pounding with wooden sticks or throwing pebbles at birds, he wanted to cast spells and practice arcane arts. This is his chance.
โYes. Indeed it does.โ She said and immediatelly got a strong hug from her son. A hug of gratitude, happiness and sadness all in one. Lycus immediatelly picked up a piece of paper and a feather off the table to start writing the letter to a woman named Ayla.
Last edited by a moderator: