Critique Please Be harsh, but not brutal
Elf Son
Chapter 2- Seloba
Vasôac could feel the anger swelling up inside him, ready to burst open and release an inferno of hate, anger, and frustration. The hate was burning, burning inside him. Fueling his aggression, fueling his rage. He hated him. He hated him so much. His hate measured that of a million men’s hate. He couldn’t contain it any longer. For months now, his hate had been growing, and growing. Now his hate was at an uncomprehensible level. If the hate grew one more ounce, his entire body would burst into oblivion, leaving a couple shreds of what once was his body. He had to release his hate Oh, the hate was a curse. But what a power it was. What a power it felt, a hate of that magnitude At the very center of it, was the hate for one very person. Oh, what a powerful hate it was, so powerful. The power he felt made him feel greater than any one other person could be at their greatest moment.
Haha. Now, no creature on earth is more powerfully than me. I have mastered my hate and turned it into sheer power. I...
Vasôac was awoken by a small woodchuck burrowing at his feet.
Oh, it was all just a dream. Although it seemed to be the same dream I had last time... Vasôac thought. No, that’s impossible.
He rubbed his eyes, and sat up. He had been lying in a small patch of blueberries. Surrounding him was a lush collection of vegetation and small critters. He pulled his hood over his head.
That is the last time I sleep in a bush. I it weren’t for those highwaymen, I would have been able to sleep out the open. Those blasted fools If they were anywhere around here, this time I will cut them to pieces... Wait a second, is that them?
Vasôac looked over a bush, and to his surprise, he found what seemed to be a meeting-of highwaymen, of course.
What are they doing meeting here? ? He thought. For on the path were no less than fifteen robbers, all meeting together. However, they
were not robbing someone, or cutting each other up, but they seemed to be playing... HOPSCOTCH Vasôac laughed a loud, hearty laugh, forgetting the highwaymen were right next to him.
“What was that?” One of them asked.
“Oh, it was just your imagination, now it’s your turn, you fool.” A short, fat, stubby one who was standing next to him said.
“No, it came from right over there.” He pointed his finger in the opposite direction. Vasôac let out a sigh of relief.
It’s a good thing that these goons aren’t too smart. Or else I’d be dead by now. He thought to himself.
“Wait, no it came from over there.” The tall, scrawny man stuttered dimly. He pointed to another bush, that was, yet again, nowhere near Vasôac. “Or maybe it was over there.” This time he pointed to the exact bush that Vasôac was at. “Hey, what is that behind that bush?”
Vasôac’s heart started pounding. Dang it They saw me. Vasôac ran ducked deeper under the bush, and listened to the two voices.
“Oh, shut up, you old fool.”
“No, even come look, I know I saw something. Just come and look, Jo.”
“Fine, if you’ll stop your blabbering. Let’s just hurry up, it’s almost our turns. If we miss it, then we’ll lose all of our money that we betted. And that’ almost all of the money that I robbed from that one rich fellow traveled along this road. Uh, what was his name, again, uh... Orc?”
“It was Orred, I think...”
The two slowly tiptoed toward the bush, but when they were walking around the end of it, the tall, skinny robber was grabbed by the neck by none other than the person who was hiding behind it, Vasôac. Vasôac put him in a headlock, and pulled out a dagger, and held it to the man’s neck.
“Step away, or I’ll kill him ” Vasôac threatened. “I swear I will. It won’t be the first time, either Just back away, or I’ll slit his throat.”
“Why should I?” Jo asked. “Nab is a nuisance anyway. I don’t care, go ahead and slit his throat ”
“No, Jo ” Nab pleaded. “Please don’t let me die, Jo. I really don’t want to, please. I’ll give you all of my money. Just do what he says, and
back away. Oh, please, Jo. And what if I die? Then who’ll be blamed? Oh, come on, for my sake and yours just do what he wants.”
“Oh, fine.” Jo said resignedly. “This is pathetic, two highwaymen being robbed by some raggy tramp.” He took several steps backward, not taking his eye off of Vasôac’s dagger.
“Now, listen. I don’t want any trouble. Now this is what I want you two to do. Just walk back there over to your little hopscotch game, and continue playing. Act like nothing happened. Just tell your little buddies just that. Don’t attack me, or I will kill him.” Vasôac ordered. “Just do what I say, and I’ll let you two walk away with your lives.”
“It’s not hopscotch, it’s called Marelle. You see, the game works like this: There are ten squares, and the bets go on the tenth square. The squares are kinda’ round, so it curves into like a circle type thing. Then you hop from one square to the next, but...” Nab explained.
“Shut up.” Vasôac ordered. Jo nodded in agreement. “Okay, now, you first, tubby.”
“Tubby? What, I’ll carve your tongue out, I’ll boil you, alive, I’ll... Ah, never mind.” Jo complained. He steadily walked away-backwards of course-back to the game of Marelle. While he did this, he still never took his eye off of the dagger, and Vasôac thought he saw a hint of fear in his eyes when he was staring at it. He walked over to the highwaymen, and began talking to them. However, then he pointed his finger at the bush that Nab and Vasôac were behind. Vasôac saw this, and in his fury he screamed, and a blue energy surged around his body.
“What is this witchcraft?” Nab stammered, frightened to an extreme degree, seemingly. And he had good reason to. As the blue energy went around Vasôac’s body, it also began raveling around his body. “Help me Somebody help me ” He screamed.
“The deals off.” Vasôac whispered in Nab’s ear. Nab dropped down out of his arms, dead. Not a mark was left on him, either. However, the blue energy was still accumulating on Vasôac, as the approaching group of highwaymen noticed. The grass beneath him began wilting, and the shrubs nearby died. The band of robbers stood in their tracks, rooted to the ground by their awe. Soon, they were rooted to the ground by Vasôac’s magic. Seconds later, they were lying on the ground, dead. All of them. Dead. Lifeless. Gone, in a blink.
The energy vanished as soon as it appeared, seemingly being absorbed by Vasôac’s body. However, all of the men were still stone dead.
What have I done? Vasôac thought to himself. I just killed at least fifteen men. And in cold blood, too. He walked to one of the bodies, and examined it. It was exactly like the first man’s carcass. Pale, lifeless, and untouched. He reached for the man’s money. He did the same for all of the other highway men. In total, he found 10 gold pieces, 26 silver, and 43 bronze. He also found numerous different daggers, and a leather belt on one of bodies. He pocketed the money in a pouch, and wrapped the belt around his waist. The leather belt, he found, had a sheath on each side of it. He put the two longest daggers on the sides. He stepped back from the bodies, and felt a wave of guilt empowering him.
“Ahhhh ” Vasôac bellowed to the sky. “Why does this keep happening to me? First, my foster parents, then the harmless merchant, and now a whole party of highwaymen Will this never stop?” He put his face in his hands, and he cried. Although it was only for several seconds, he did cry.
He continued on to Seloba. After a very uneventful three hours of walking, he had reached his goal. The town was a busy marketplace. The streets were paved with rock, and the buildings, although they were few (most of the room was taken by small stands and booths), were very well made, and seemed to be very sturdy. They had light grey rock walls, and large wooden roofs, which came down to almost five feet from the ground. The stores were mostly various oddities and trinkets. Very few actually sold something useful. Vasôac read some of the signs. They read: Harry’s Nack-Nack Shop; Books, Scrolls, and More; Assorted Potionry Shop; and one sign in which several letters fell off, causing it to read T e h p o Too s nd Mor . However, only one of the shops even slightly interested Vasôac, which evidently was the tavern. Although Vasôac doubted that the man (who he didn’t even know) would be there yet, considering how frail he had seemed when he had first met him.
There’s no way that old man could have gotten here quicker than I. I’ll just have to stay in the tavern for a week or two until he gets here. That is, assuming he ever does.
As he was pondering about the arrival of the man, a soldier who he recognized as one of the king’s (as he had seen a small group of them traveling on the roads here), who was fully garmented in his armor, rushed by him, a pale, frightened expression on his face. A group of three highwaymen with dark brown hoods were chasing him. All through the streets, people shrieked and pointed at the rouge highwaymen. The once lively town grew deserted. People who were putting their heads out of the windows and gossiping with their friends were now inside, with the blinds shut. The four continued to run down the path. One of the rouges took out a knife.
What the hell is happening? ? Why won’t anyone do something? Ah Why are there all of these stupid highwaymen? ? Vasôac angrily thought, pulling out his staff, which was hidden away in his robe. He pointed it towards the highwaymen, beginning to speak. “Natiz....”
Before he could finish his spell, Vasôac was knocked to the ground. “Let me go I need to...”
“Shut up You can’t cast that spell in the middle of the street What were you thinking?” The man screamed in his ear.
“I was trying to save that man ” Vasôac hissed in return.
“No, not here. Not now. You’ve already come so far...”
As the man was speaking, the soldier he had seen being chased was knocked down by the highwaymen.
“Let me go I have to save him ”
“By killing two others?
The soldier was being stabbed in the chest by the men. Blood was poring out.
“Let me go ” Vasôac struggled and kicked to get free, but the man’s grip seemed impossibly strong. Vasôac watched helplessly as the soldier was stabbed to death. “You fool ”
“You can’t cast magic here Do you want Vâsdem to send every stinking soldier in his entire army after you? ?”
Vasôac gave up his struggle. “It would be more tolerable than watching that man be stabbed to death ”
“Come with me.” The man whispered into Vasôac’s ear. “Come into the tavern.” He grabbed onto his arm, and pulled him into down the road to a noisy tavern. The sign read: “The Sword and Flask”. Vasôac finally caught the man when he was unaware, and broke free of his grip.
“Ha. You can’t control me any more.” Vasôac laughed at him.
“I don’t understand. I was supposed to meet you here...”
“What? ? You are the man who told me to come here. He turned towards him. Now, as he noticed, the man was wearing the same, dark, filthy robe as the one who had first instructed him to come here. “Fine. Let’s go in. But you better have had a good reason for not letting me save that man.”
“I will explain all to you once we get inside. It is not safe outside.” Vasôac and the man (who still hadn’t revealed his identity) walked into “The Sword and Flask”. As soon as they walked the room, they were greeted by a drunk man punching another man in the face, and a drunk woman calling out to them.
“Is that you? I’ve been looking all over for you, George ” She barely managed to walk to them without falling down. “Oh, wait never mind. Sorry, I’m not really with it tonight.”
Vasôac nodded in sarcastic agreement. The two walked by the women, and to a small wooden staircase.
“Don’t talk to any of these people.” The man whispered into his ear. “All of them are either drunk, or they’re pretending to be drunk, and are sneakily avoiding the few watchful eyes there are, namely us two. Either way, all of them are dangerous. “Don’t say a word until we get into my room.” The two walked up the staircase, and then continued past several rooms. “Ah, here we go. This is my room.” He reached into his pocket for the key to his room, but felt an empty pocket. “Where is my key, Vasôac?”
“Well, how am I supposed to know? I didn’t take it, if that’s what you’re implying.”
The man grumbled. “Fine, we’ll just go back downstairs. I wouldn’t be surprised if some pickpocket down there took it. Oh, even better, how many spells do you know, Vasôac?”
“Two.” Vasôac responded, ashamed at himself.
“Ah, well, I guess it’s better than nothing. Say, I only gave you one spell. I engraved it on the back of your staff. It was the one that taught you how to heal a basic wound. Yes, I think it was ‘Trya’.”
As the man spoke, the gash on Vasôac’s palm closed up, and immediately healed. “You can use magic too? ?” Vasôac exclaimed in awe.
“Only several spells, but, yes.”
“Teach them to me, please ”
“Ah, you are so anxious to learn how to use magic. Haha, just like your mother...”
“You knew my mother? ?”
“I know your mother.”
“She is alive?” Vasôac asked with a grin on his face. His heart now showed a tint of warmness. The old man smiled. For he knew that for a brief, transitory moment, he had seen a little glimmer in the young boy’s eye, and he recognized it as hope.
“Alive and well.” The man responded with a warm grin.
Vasôac though about his mother for a moment, and sighed. He then realized their predicament.
The sooner I get those keys, the sooner I can see my mother. Then maybe I can get some answers. The answers that this old goon won’t give me, no matter how hard I press.
“Fine. Let’s go.” Vasôac pressed. The two walked back down the hallway, and back into the bar.
