Angaku
Regular
Just testing my writing skills so don't blow me to bits with criticism, but feel free to do so.
"A fil'ty, stinkin', Khergit!"
The bartender yelled in the young boys face as he stood gritting his teeth.
"Ya know dat boy?"
"..."
"Answa' me when I'm talkin' ta you!"
"Yes, sir..." The boy said through clenched teeth.
"Ya mad at me, huh? Be a good litt'le boy an' take dis 'ere to dat table over 'dere"
He patted the boys head roughly and shoved a platter with ale and meat on it into the boys hands. The boy the slowly walked to the table and slammed the platter onto the table. The soldier he delivered it to put a sword to his throat and said in a drunkin slur,
"You better whachhh yerself youngun'!"
"Oh leave him alone, Tulb."
"Ya 'e just be a wee litt'le whelp any'ay. Get outta' 'ere boy, befer I take 'dis 'ere sword and spit you on it!"
The boy then walked from the table sweating from the encounter and walked to his room outside in the shed. He sat on his bed waiting for the bartender to walk in and yell at him, but that didn't occur and he slowly drifted off to sleep and a dream came across him. He was standing alone in the doorway of his cottage, watching bandits carry his mother off into the mountains while his father was decapitated just meters away. A bandit then walked up to him and said something about getting a good price off of his meat. He then raised his sword and swung it down on him.
"Aah!"
A short scream escaped his throat, but he held the rest in and lay back down, in a cold sweat. He could remember the same exact scream from his mother, "Rodin!!!" but soon after that he just heard the spatter and crack of a sword on skull which sent shivers reverberating down his spine. He sat up and wiped his eyes of the tears, grabbed the large bag of denars under his cot, and examined it. 307 denars. All there, but he felt deffrent today, he attached the bag to his belt and began to plot his escape...
I know its kinda short, but its just a story I've had brewing in my mind while I was playing mount and blade.
"A fil'ty, stinkin', Khergit!"
The bartender yelled in the young boys face as he stood gritting his teeth.
"Ya know dat boy?"
"..."
"Answa' me when I'm talkin' ta you!"
"Yes, sir..." The boy said through clenched teeth.
"Ya mad at me, huh? Be a good litt'le boy an' take dis 'ere to dat table over 'dere"
He patted the boys head roughly and shoved a platter with ale and meat on it into the boys hands. The boy the slowly walked to the table and slammed the platter onto the table. The soldier he delivered it to put a sword to his throat and said in a drunkin slur,
"You better whachhh yerself youngun'!"
"Oh leave him alone, Tulb."
"Ya 'e just be a wee litt'le whelp any'ay. Get outta' 'ere boy, befer I take 'dis 'ere sword and spit you on it!"
The boy then walked from the table sweating from the encounter and walked to his room outside in the shed. He sat on his bed waiting for the bartender to walk in and yell at him, but that didn't occur and he slowly drifted off to sleep and a dream came across him. He was standing alone in the doorway of his cottage, watching bandits carry his mother off into the mountains while his father was decapitated just meters away. A bandit then walked up to him and said something about getting a good price off of his meat. He then raised his sword and swung it down on him.
"Aah!"
A short scream escaped his throat, but he held the rest in and lay back down, in a cold sweat. He could remember the same exact scream from his mother, "Rodin!!!" but soon after that he just heard the spatter and crack of a sword on skull which sent shivers reverberating down his spine. He sat up and wiped his eyes of the tears, grabbed the large bag of denars under his cot, and examined it. 307 denars. All there, but he felt deffrent today, he attached the bag to his belt and began to plot his escape...
I know its kinda short, but its just a story I've had brewing in my mind while I was playing mount and blade.
