A Legend yet to be written.

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A Legend yet to be written.

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Post by Kalem »

Sharing the start of my novel for those interested in reading, likely leak a bit of it here as I continue onwards, hopefully I will continue to make progress with it.

Drums pounded in a rapid composition of fierce beats, as flutes shrilled their livery, shadows danced across the walls of the great roundhouse, following their physical counterparts that danced around the flickering vortex of the great centre hearth. Men sat and spoke upon benches, or furs and skins upon the ground, their eyes watching the flick of black, brown and flame red hair, cast about by the uproar of motion that was the women dancing. Their bodies spun and turned, their lips parted as they let out notes of music and gave voice to the lyrics of song, their chorus turning the music of the pipes and drums into a true beauty.

These men and women, clad in cloth of colours bright and furs both white and dark, their frames warmly clothed even within the heat of the hearth. Amongst them sat three foreigners, each wearing cloth of a dark grey, which marked them as bland in comparison to the yellows, blues and greens of their hosts, two men and a boy, the men cleanly shaven, their scalps cut short, each within their thirties. These men sat in the position of honoured guests, to their side the leader of the northerners sat in a chair of carved wood, his blonde-haired, foreign wife sat in one beside him. The boy, a child of six, with black hair brown eyes and awe upon his features sat in wonderment as he watched this culture share their usually reserved mirth. Their private joys had been brought forward as the three had truly been welcome as friends.

“Wolves of the grey!” barked a voice of thunder, the warlord stood, a grin upon his face as the music died, the women stilled and every eye turned to him. “I have brought into my hall a high king, one that would ally with us lowly dogs,” the warlord spoke with confidence and his jest was replied to by the heavy thump of the attending men’s fists as they signalled their amusement. “The king of the Anwells has come, he has dined as one of us, he has met the Ri of each of our great villages, and now, we seal this bond of friendship and allegiance, with the fostering of his son into my own household,” as his words ended, the room was silent, the leaders of warriors and smaller villages exchanged glances and as realisation dawned a chorus of roars sounded from the men, drowning the world in their cheer.

The figure sat beside the warlord lowered his head, the other foreign man beside him stared at his liege lord, “you have done what!?” he growled lowly. The son sat and stared at the roaring faces of those around him, as it dawned on him. He would not be returning home.
Kalem
Posts: 57
Joined: July 4th, 2009, 4:46 am

Re: A Legend yet to be written.

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Post by Kalem »

Constructive criticism encouraged.
Destructive criticism also encouraged, however be warned, I will go Jimmy Carr on those of you who take this option.
Kalem
Posts: 57
Joined: July 4th, 2009, 4:46 am

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