After a stressful day of a chasing gnome, cannibal-teddy bears, creepy wizard-ogre, and some three oversized dwarfs, Rayven had enough! He started his quest of his full of adrenaline waiting to burst out in the atmosphere, but now, everything seems to be contraire as how it all started, he was stressed and unhappy inside and out.
He fell down at a bed with him all dirty and tired. His thick, black hair was dirty and was adorned with twigs and sprinkled with dust and dirt. He wore a tattered vest, ripped green long sleeves, and a dirty pair of black trousers. His brown eyes were very heavy; they blinked so slowly as if it was on slow motion. In Rayven’s left hand was a sliver bracelet with droplets of water designs surrounding it all around. He looked at it carefully as he showed a very miserable frown.
“Stupid bracelet!” he cursed with sorrow. “You almost got me dead like six times! And after wasting my whole day finding you, everything came to a waste. Ah! I shouldn’t have accepted the king’s quest. You just got me tired for nothing.”
He then blinked slowly, then again he blinked, but for the third time his eyes went close, it never opened again for that day. And sooner after some minutes, he was snoring, loudly and even annoyingly if in case you were hearing him. There he was sleeping noisily and diagonally; half of his legs were out of the bed, but that did not bother him.
“Wake up sleepyhead!” a little girl in a standing out of Rayven’s door screamed. “Daddy’s looking for you!”
“Thirty minutes Deli.”
“That’s strange,” Deli murmured, “he didn’t say five minutes; unusual.” And she then marched off Rayven’s area while she was whispering some words to herself; obviously some words that makes up an idea to awake the sleeping Rayven.
After a minute, she again head back to Rayven’s room with a big leaf rolled into a cone. The thing she had somehow resembles a megaphone, except it obviously does not look like one. She opened the door and tip-toed to Rayven’s bed. She held the thing near her lips and breathed slowly. “Wake up Ray!” her young voice of her volume hugely greaten. So it turned out to be that it was somehow a megaphone, well it increases a voice’s volume, so why not just call it a megaphone.
As soon as Rayven heard those loud words, “annoyance” became the first word in his mind. At first, he ignored it and just covered his ears but the girl kept repeating those words very loud enough to freak out some cats in their neighbours’ house. “Okay! I am getting up.”
“Glad you finally cooperated,” and she stormed out of the room with a terrible grin. “And oh,” she paused at the door, “father is in the tea room, he will be waiting long enough for you to complete your long ceremony with yourself. And if in case you are still lost at our new house, then the tea room would be at-”
“I know where it is, okay?”
“Well, okay,” she said as she head walked off with a little shame on herself.
“That annoying little girl,” she whispered to himself as he sat at his bed. He looked out at the window and smiled. It was a new day, a new beginning, and a new chapter at this life. “May this chapter be a start of a new great story for me,” he wished without saying it.
Rayven quickly dress up to his everyday casual dress which was just washed yesterday which explains why it smells so good and is so clean. He wore a red long sleeved shirt over a brown thick vest, a pair of black trousers, and a pair of white sandals. After consuming five minutes of dressing up, he faced the mirror and grabbed a comb which was always ready to fix a new-waked shaggy hair. And after another five minute of combing, his hair was now clean with his hair combed properly. After the so called ceremony as Deli called it, Rayven quickly ran down to the tea room where he saw Roul, a soft-hearted and kind but adamant soldier who happens to be his master.
“Do you mind telling me why you need ten minutes every time before you talk with me after you just wake up?” Roul asked as he sipped the tea in a tiny, cute, sphere-shaped teacup lightly. For a tough-looking muscled man, he was sipping tea in a cute tiny teacup; strange indeed. Roul was cross-legged seating at a rocking chair. His bald head covered to bright sunshine from the window which was good for Rayven because he hates the summer heat. He wore a white sleeveless shirt and a Hawaiian designed short. He seemed to be a tough man, but tough or not, Rayven does not seem to be scared at him at all, he was just simply relaxed as always.
“Shaggy hair and my cabinet sir, messy, very messy,” he confessed but Roul was pretty not shocked nor mad over his explanation. He somehow showed a feeling that he was used to it.
“Okay,” he responded slowly. “Now I think you would ask why I send you hear, right?”
“Yup, so what’s up?” he asked feeling very ready for a quest from his master.
“Well what’s up may bring you down my lad.”
Rayven’s eyes widened, he then cross his hands together, smiled, and giggled. “Nothing’s that big to bring me down sir, you know me, I’m-“
“I will need you to accept a quest from the king.”
“A quest from the what?” he said with disappointment as his smile quickly vanished. “But, but-“
“He actually gave it to me. But then I decided to give in to you instead, and don’t worry, I informed the king that you will now take the test, so I’m pretty sure that the guards there will accept you at the palace with their sincere hospitality.”
“Right.” he said as he rolled his eyes. He knew that the guards were not to trust when waiting for some visitors. He thought that those guards will just scare the visitors off. He actually experienced talking with one of the guard at the palace when he was just passing it, but due to efficient scaring from the guard, he left the palace with his pants on fire, literally- he reminisced as he bite his lips. “Very harsh memories,” he whispered.
“What?”
“Nothing,” and his retrospection went off.
“Now back to the king’s quest. Where was I? Oh, yes, now hurry along to the king’s palace. You will know about the whole quest there. The king isn’t that patient as we know of, so hurry up. Show what Rayven Hoodler is made of to that king of ours.”
“But, but-“
“No buts my lad, now hurry along and go.” He said as he was trying to flee Rayven out of the house.
“But can I at least prepare,” he wailed desperately as he was being fled out the door.
“No time for preparing!” he said as he pushed Rayven out of the door but Rayven got a quick grasp at the side of the door, but Roul lift his hands and Rayven levitated to the wind, he levitated Rayven out of the door and quickly shut the door lock.
Rayven looked at the locked house; it was big with three stories, had a big green door, was painted red and had white trimmings. At the last floor of the house was a circular window, there he saw a pair of familiar eyes. Then from the window, suddenly peaked out Deli who was annoyingly teasing Rayven with her funny faces which Rayven thought was just simply disguisting.
“Damn it,” he hissed as he started walking while he covered his eyes from the strong sunlight. No doubt he did not like a king’s quest; aside from the gruesome hospitality of the guards, he had also heard several bad news about taking the king’s quest. One is that when five soldiers were sent for a quest; the only thing that returned was a sword distained with blood, plus it was a creepy eagle who bought the sword back, not those soldiers. And as for the latest he heard of, when one of the king’s A rate soldier was sent to a quest, not a single thing went back to the town. Now after those terrible news, who would accept a king’s quest, obviously not Rayven, nor Roul who Rayven thought was too chicken to accept the quest, so instead he just pass it to his number one and only apprentice: Rayven, who was unfortunately a chicken also. But there’s no way he can object the quest, first of all Roul ordered him to do it, and secondly it was from the king, decline the king and you are so R.I.P for the rest of your life, and if he did not do it, Roul would be punished. So he had no choice but to face the king then.
Rayven walked in a very weird way, he was not swaying, he only took small steps, and he cannot breathe properly. Why? Because he lost his confidence just because of continuous thinking of the words “I’m going to be dead.” His brain, both left and right was focused on one thing only: death. He wandered in advance of how he will die, get killed by some giant or by some dull mountain troll who just seem to accidentally smashed him with its giant club, was he that hopeless?
He was then at the market when he was heavily sweating because he can now see the humongous palace. At that time, he was not only thinking of death, but he was now also thinking of afterlife. “Forgive me oh Great Heluyah for all the sins I had made and please do send me to heaven.” Was he that sure he was going to even die? Vendors from the sides looked at him and chuckled for that he was acting greatly strange; he was sweating, massively and blushing, very redly like the lava from Krakatoa which gone mad and exploding, yes that red. But Rayven did not mind any of them for he was busy thinking some more serious things.
As every meter he gets closer to the palace, the more his heartbeat rate speeds up. He wished he would have a heartbeat too fast he would suddenly faint for lack of oxygen, but then, there he stands now at the gate of the palace, but nothing lucky (like fainting) for him was happening. Two guards came forward, they were frowning at Rayven, they prepared their spear quickly and frowned at Rayven. “Had, ready for this?”
Had, the other guard, nodded.
“Now, what’s with you kiddo, any problem with us?” the exact hospitality for a visitor as Rayven thought of, extremely obnoxious.
Give your story a gimmick. Either an incredibly awesome cool one that will have children wanting to be the hero/villain. Or a hilarious and well-thought out one that makes people go 'so clever'. For example, maybe the King is a child? Or maybe the King's dangerous mission (and let me say that the gimmick should make up your plot arc) is to make a census of everybody in the town, but the town is full of monstrous half-human creatures?