by Nor on October 16th, 2009, 10:06 pm
(Right, here is the first draft of my introduction to Norvan. I'll probably change this as I go. Oh and this chapter is called Gets in your...)
Rain. Gets in your clothes. Gets in your hair. Gets in your skin. Gets in your... he carried on. The rain felt like punishment for something he had never done. Unless it was meant for any of the other sixty men and women he travelled with. The Benshira caravan had been travelling for two weeks now, the rain starting the moment they set foot off the ferry in Falyndar.
“When will it fucking end!?!” a high voice shouted from behind. Shifting in the saddle he turned around to the couple that had been arguing for what seemed the entire journey.
“I don't know!” he said quietly almost a whisper before gesturing to their travelling companions. “Your making a fool of yourself and of me.”
“And what's that meant to mean?” she relied in the way only a woman seems to, knowing exactly what he meant but still asking anyway. Shifting around again he kicked the thighs of his horse and moved forward out of ear shot. Around him the others in the caravan sat hunched and disappointed in their carts, he could understand their disappointment. This trip to sell valuable cloths had only meant to take a week, but three days in the guide caught the rot, in the middle of the jungle and before he could tell anyone which way to go a mud slide killed him and the everyone in cart with him. That wasn't what brought the tension though, he could taste it in the air. The rumours of what happened to humans caught here had a little to do with it, but he could taste something else. There was a loud snap and suddenly the caravan was brought to a halt. Looking up he could see one of the carts wheels had snapped and was blocking the trail ahead. Kicking his horse he galloped to the cart. Its axis was in bad shape, the wood had twisted and even if they could replace the wheel the axis would need to be replaced. He gave an inward chuckle at the idea of being surrounded by wood, but all of it being too wet to use. So much for fall being the end of the rainy season.
“So...Boss. What do we do now?” a voice from his left said. Gretchen. A small man by any counts, mentally as well, never looking beyond his dick or how much coin he could get.
“Take the goods, dismantle the cart and load it on another.”
“The carts won't take any more. We started out with too much at the beginning, even if they got out,” he motioned to the caravan, “and walked we wouldn't make it a mile. Besides they'd kill us first than walk in this.” he replied before slivering off to the back of caravan to get people to help. For all his vices he had at least one saving grace and that was he was very good at 'persuading' people to do what he asked. Just as he was about to get off his horse there was a scream at the back of the caravan. Before he could turn his horse everyone started screaming. He felt something hit in the stomach and suddenly he was off his horse, with his back on the mud. Above him the air shook with the passing of bolts splitting the air. A man walked past him, a bolt lodged into his throat, his eyes bulged almost out of their sockets as he gave a silent scream. Another bolt hit him in the shoulder and he was sent twirling through the air. Searching with his hands he found where the bolt had hit him. He found the shaft embedded into his right arm. Using both hands he grabbed the bolt, slick with water and pulled hard. The bolt left his shoulder with an audible pop sending torrents of pain throughout his body. He lay there for a second letting the pain wake his body. The screams stopped and the only sound that could be heard was moan of pain. The sound of bushes rustling from behind stopped him from moving. A leg stepped over him, followed by a slender body with slick with water, like a snake. There was more of them, converging if front of him around twenty of thirty he guessed.
“Well done children.” a man in the centre said addressing the people around her. “Search the carts for-”
“Father!” A voice said to his right, turning his head slightly he saw a male warrior, his arm wrapped around a head. Gretchen. “I found this one hiding amongst them dead.” he said before throwing him in front of the woman in the centre.
“P-please! Mercy, I beg of you!” He shrieked as they surrounded him.
“You will not die like the others.” the woman in the centre said, he voice distinct with command and authority.
“Thank you, thank you!”he spluttered out amongst his over praises and worship. As he watched Gretchen he strangely felt sorry for Gretchen.
“Yours will be the first body fed to the children.” he said, just as a group of males converged on him, binding his hands and feet, while he screamed the whole time. Diverting his eyes from Gretchen's struggle he began to shuffle backwards towards the jungle, a face loomed over his. Snake eyes stared straight into his as the dagger in his hands split the eye in half. The face arched backwards before screaming out in pain. Scrambling up he grabbed the Dhani by the arm and through him towards the group. He ran as fast as he could, leaving the trail and caravan behind him. The air around him split and the trees in front of him exploded with the impact of the bolts as the impacted, showering him in splinters. Then he was out of the jungle again, but before eh could stop he was falling. Water rushed up to meet him and suddenly it was dark.
Gets in your clothes. Gets in your hair. Gets in your skin. Gets in your...
(Right this is just a teaser, and I probably won't post any more till I'm done. I just wanted to know what you thought.)
If your dads Frankenstein and I'm a Vampire, why are you a Werewolf?
