Read this edited version:
topic40663.html
erased 12-24
"Wake up, you urchin!" A rough voice with a heavy Northern accent grated Bane's eardrums as he stirred himself into conciseness.
"What do you want?" he said as he rubbed his eyes.
The son was shining dimly.
It had turned a pale pinkish-orange. He’d slept through the entire day.
He wondered how long he'd been asleep and where he was.
Ostia was a major port city of the kingdom of.
His midnight shoulder-length hair was so dark it shone with a subtle blue hue and hung into his eyes constantly.
He wore a tattered pair of beige pants, and a shirt that had a few holes, but wasn't half bad by his standards.
Which are admittedly a bit low, he mused.
Perhaps less noticeable, accept at night- Bane had another "unique" feature.
He was about half a mile outside of Ostia, just off of a well-traveled path. Most of was covered by forest. Cities and towns were hundreds of miles apart from each other, connected by long convoluted paths. There were some major roads, but Bane preferred to take the less crowded ways- often meaning he traveled without a path at all. Bane knew the kingdom like the back of his hand. He was aware of all the shortcuts, all the trails that had long been forgotten.
For the past several years, he and Fang had worked as wilderness guides, leading travelers safely to their destinations for a fee. There was always someone looking to find their way. He and his brother had made quite a few close friends that way.
1. Use dialogue 2. Use sensory language 3. Be descriptive 4. Be specific, not vagueWhen Bane finally got to Ostia, he felt an immediate sense of cluastrophobia.
Werewolves were hated all over with a lethal passion. They were regarded as demons or evil creatures. Of course, even werewolves referred to themselves ad demons. They were feared because they killed people, and because no one really new anything about them. Humans feared the unknown. It was a common misconception that werewolves only shifted on the full moon, and that they killed for pleasure. The truth was far different. Werewolves shifted involuntarily every night, as soon as the sun went down, unless prevented by something such as iron. Iron, silver, and the plant wolfs bane were the only things Bane knew of to prevent shifting.
Bane kept a small supply of wolfsbane, as well as a thin chain of iron that could be worn around his neck like jewlery, in case he ever needed to be with humans at night.
Humans often executed Bane's kind by capturing them, binding them with iron handcuffs or force-feeding them wolfs bane so they cannot shift, and then placing silver chains around their neck.
However, on a full moon, it is impossible for a werewolf to avoid shifting.
On full moon, a werewolf truly became the worst kind of demon imagineable.
He was too anxious about his brother for frivolous conversation.
"Where's Fang?" he asked innocently.
Oh, I dunno. A week ago some cloaked man grabbed Fang, knocked me out and disappeared.
thought Bane with bitter sarcasm. "Uh- h-he sta-stayed in a town us two went through be-before. He, uh, doesn't care for the vagabond life anymore. I-I think he said he's going to train t-to b-be a, er, a blacksmith. Uh, he's an a-apprentice. I believe he fancies the smith's daughter."
What if he inquired about the town? What if he proposed they both visit Fang? What if...
“You know, I could do other things then be a wilderness guide, too.” interjected Jeb unexpectedly.
“Shortly after you and Fang left the last time I saw you two- I think we were somewhere around the town of Nerra- I got another client.
Bane could hardly conceal his smile as Jeb rattled off all the new facts (and
some of them, vicious propaganda against Bane’s kind) he’d learned.
It was a delapidated building- it’s roof shingles were, and the door had obviously beenpealing
re-hinged, probably after having been torn off in an ale-fueled bar fight.
Bane could tell my the unnatural curve of
her thin waist that she was wearing a corset, a garment he found unattractively
fake.
I really am an urchin, thought Bane, contemplating the simple dialect of
Common Speech he spoke.
Gaelica was the country south of the kingdom of.
The girl sniffed defiantly. “I have money.”
After about a weeks exposure to iron or wolfs bane, a werewolf
would gradually become sick and weak.
"What do you want?" he said as he rubbed his eyes. The son was shining dimly. It had turned a pale pinkish-orange. He’d slept through the entire day.
Werewolves were hated all over with a lethal passion. They were regarded as demons or evil creatures. Of course, even werewolves referred to themselves ad demons.
Her skin was as pale as a vampire, except for a bit
of rosy color splashed around her cheeks.
Gaelica was the country south of the kingdom of…
The boy and the soldiers stared at one another for a moment, and then the soldiers left.
Perhaps less noticeable, accept at night- Bane had another "unique" feature. He was a werewolf.
Bane picked up his pack and made his way toward the crowded path. He hardly ever took this path because of the heavy traffic from merchants on it.
He was a tall, gangly man of probably eighteen-twenty-two. He wasn't entirely sure. Orphaned at an early age when berserkers from the Northernlands had ransacked his village, he'd been forced to fend for himself his entire life.
As far as he was concerned, Bane was an orphan as well. He could never reveal the truth to Jeb.
Days before the full moon, packs of werewolves traveling in groups would break up and travel vast distances alone so they wouldn't attack each other.
The young werewolf felt sickened by the excitement in his friend’s voice.
apparently unaware of Bane’s sour mood, which had been darkened by the previous discussion.
Her skin was as pale as a vampire, except for a bit of rosy color splashed around her cheeks.
I really am an urchin, thought Bane, contemplating the simple dialect of
Common Speech he spoke.
God, thought Bane.
I’m supposed to see my brother.” he lied. “Aye. That’s it. Sorry.” He turned to Jeb. “Well it was pleasant seeing you, but I ought to be leaving. Goodbye!”
"Wake up, you urchin!"
He wondered how long he'd been asleep and where he was.
striking Bane with the butt of his regulation pike.
Ostia was a major port city of the kingdom of.
his head still throbbing with a concussion from when he'd been hit.
close to the thirteen-year old's face.
Bane earlier now whacked him on the head.
His midnight shoulder-length
His most noticeable feature was a stunning pair of blood red eyes.
Bane knew the kingdom like the back of his hand. He was aware of all the shortcuts, all the trails that had long been forgotten.
When Bane finally got to Ostia, he felt an immediate sense of cluastrophobia. He hated being around so many humans at once.
It was red and angry-looking necklace that always reminded him of the day he lost his sister.
which had been darkened by the
previous discussion.
Haruno Sakura wrote:Yes, I know the prolouge isn't finished, but several people told me to move on and go back to it later. Basically all you need to know is Fang was captured by a group of humans and Bane was knocked out. Bane is waking up and is rather confuzzled
oh yeah, I don't have a kingdom name, so ignore that little mishap...
Chapter One
"Wake up, you urchin!" A rough voice with a heavy Northern accent grated Bane's eardrums as he stirred himself into conciseness (consciousness).
"What do you want?" he (Bane, he could mean the guy with the rough voice as well)said as he rubbed his eyes. The son was shining dimly. It had turned a pale pinkish-orange. He’d slept through the entire day. His vision blurred, and then cleared as he looked up and saw several Royal Soldiers dressed in full regalia. The royal family's crest was on their breastplates. He wondered how long he'd been asleep and where he was.
"The royal family is coming through Ostia tonight, and the city leaders want all the poor off the street. It spoils their reputation. So that means you too!" said a young soldier, striking Bane with the butt of his regulation pike.
Ostia, thought Bane. So that's where I am. Ostia was a major port city of the kingdom of(add here the name or 'title here', just don't leave it empty). He hadn't realized how far west he had wandered- all the way to the sea. After Fang had been kidnapped- or whatever had happened that night- Bane had wandered aimlessly for days, unaware of anything, his head still throbbing with a concussion from when he'd been hit.
He could hardly remember any of it. Filthy humans. They'd taken his sister from him, and now his brother. Fang. (Fang here is unnecessary, people already know who you're talking about)
Bane rolled over and closed his eyes. "Can't you just go away, you bastards?"
The Northern soldier squatted down to Bane's level and leaned in close to the thirteen-year old's face. "Excuse me?" he asked threateningly. His breath was an acrid mixture of alcohol and pipe smoke.
The younger soldier who had struck Bane earlier now whacked him on the head. Bane stuck out his tongue. "All right! I'll get up!" He got slowly to his feet.
The boy and the soldiers stared at one another for a moment, and then the soldiers left.
Bane decided he would go into town after all. ( Where does it say he didn't want to go there? Clarify please)
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"I don't look that pitiable do I?" Bane asked himself out loud as he stretched his long arms. He stared down at his bare and calloused feet and laughed. "I look like a bloody tramp!" Bane was tall with a lean muscular frame and broad shoulders. His midnight shoulder-length hair was so dark it shone with a subtle blue hue and hung into his eyes constantly. He wore a tattered pair of beige pants, and a shirt that had a few holes, but wasn't half bad by his standards. Which are admittedly a bit low, he mused. His most noticeable feature was a stunning pair of blood red eyes.
Perhaps less noticeable, accept (except) at night- Bane had another "unique" feature. He was a werewolf.
Bane strained his ears and heard the noise of busy city life: laughter, animals scuffling, and vendors selling their goods.
He was about half a mile outside of Ostia, just off of a well-traveled path. Most of (it) was covered by forest. Cities and towns were hundreds of miles apart from each other, connected by long convoluted paths. There were some major roads, but Bane preferred to take the less crowded ways- often meaning he traveled without a path at all. Bane knew the kingdom like the back of his hand. He was aware of all the shortcuts, all the trails that had long been forgotten.
For the past several years, he and Fang had worked as wilderness guides, leading travelers safely to their destinations for a fee. There was always someone looking to find their way. He and his brother had made quite a few close friends that way.
Bane picked up his pack and made his way toward the crowded path. He hardly ever took this path because of the heavy traffic from merchants on it. (the part is written in a strange manner, change it to something like "by the travelling merchants using it.")
When Bane finally got to Ostia, he felt an immediate sense of cluastrophobia (claustrophobia). He hated being around so many humans at once. It made him paranoid. It brought back memories of massacres he'd seen- the bodies of his people writhing in agony, grotesquely twisting and screaming- all because of a little chain of silver placed on their necks.
His cheeks flushed red as a familiar hatred rushed through his blood.
"Aye, Bane! Long time no see, eh?" someone abruptly called out to him. Bane glanced up and all the hatred immediately left his body. It was Jeb, one of Bane's only human friends. Jeb was a (you could say "also a wilderness...") wilderness guide, and he had often gone on trips with clients with Bane and Fang. He was a tall, gangly (gangly? Is that a word?) man of probably eighteen-twenty-two. He wasn't entirely sure. Orphaned at an early age when berserkers from the Northernlands had ransacked his village, he'd been forced to fend for himself his entire life.
As far as he was concerned, Bane was an orphan as well. He could never reveal the truth to Jeb.
Werewolves were hated all over (better put, everywhere or all over the world) with a lethal passion. They were regarded as demons or evil creatures. Of course, even werewolves referred to themselves ad (as) demons. They were feared because they killed people, and because no one really new (knew) anything about them. Humans feared the unknown. It was a common misconception that werewolves only shifted on the full moon, and that they killed for pleasure.
The truth was far different. Werewolves shifted involuntarily every night, as soon as the sun went down, unless prevented by something such as iron. Iron, silver, and the plant wolfs bane were the only things Bane knew of to prevent shifting.
Bane kept a small supply of wolfsbane, as well as a thin chain of iron that could be worn around his neck like jewlery, in case he ever needed to be with humans at night. He often wore his iron necklace when guiding people to their destinations.
He never used silver because werewolves were "allergic" to silver. Silver burned their skin, and if they were exposed to it for too long, they'd die a death of intense pain. Humans often executed Bane's kind by capturing them, binding them with iron handcuffs or force-feeding them wolfs bane so they cannot shift, and then placing silver chains around their neck. It was the cruelest way to kill someone. Bane himself had a vicious scar around his neck from when he'd been caught in one of these massacres. It was red and angry-looking necklace that always reminded him of the day he lost his sister.
However, on a full moon, it is impossible for a werewolf to avoid shifting. On full moon, a werewolf truly became the worst kind of demon imagineable. They'd kill without thought, including their own kind. A werewolf couldn't control their actions during the full moon. Days before the full moon, packs of werewolves traveling in groups would break up and travel vast distances alone so they wouldn't attack each other. The full moon was Bane's worst enemy.
"Hey, Jeb." Bane said, his voice dripping with fake enthusiasm. He was too anxious about his brother for frivolous conversation.
Jeb hurried over to Bane, and smiled. He glanced around as though searching for something, and frowned. "Where's Fang?" he asked innocently.
Oh, I dunno. A week ago some cloaked man grabbed Fang, knocked me out and disappeared. thought Bane with bitter sarcasm. "Uh- h-he sta-stayed in a town us two went through be-before. He, uh, doesn't care for the vagabond life anymore. I-I think he said he's going to train t-to b-be a, er, a blacksmith. Uh, he's an a-apprentice. I believe he fancies the smith's daughter." Normally a sovereign among liars, Bane stuttered like a guilty child.
One of Jeb’s bushy eyebrows went up like a warning flag. “I don’t believe you.” he said, crossing his arms.
Bane’s breath caught in his throat. What if he inquired about the town? What if he proposed they both visit Fang? What if...
Suddenly Jeb beamed. “That skinny boy a blacksmith? She must be one remarkable girl.”
Bane sighed with relief. “She’s quite pretty, I suppose.”
“Come by [s]at[/s] (to) the tavern with me, and we’ll have a drink. There’s someone I want you to meet.”
As they walked, Bane observed Ostia. The air smelled thickly of salt. The townspeople were furiously preparing for the arrival of the royal family. Bane saw a woman outside of a bakery dressed in her finest outfit, fiercely attacking the dusty street with a broom as her daughter fed scraps of stale bread to seagulls. To the south, he could see the Letztes Hafen mountains looming impressively.
“You know, I could do other things [s]then[/s] (than) be a wilderness guide, too.” interjected Jeb unexpectedly. He was apparently still thinking of Fang.
“What do you mean?” asked Bane curiously.
“Shortly after you and Fang left the last time I saw you two- I think we were somewhere around the town of Nerra- I got another client. He was a demon hunter.”
Bane scowled inwardly. "Demon hunter" was a euphemism for werewolf murderer. Demon hunters were paid to slaughter werewolves.
“Anyway, we were walking and I saw these two wolves. One was black-
about as dark as your hair. The other one was silver. They were just standing
there, watching us. I thought it was peculiar that they didn’t dash away like
wolves normally do. I said it out loud, and the demon hunter said, ‘We ought to
be careful because those are werewolves’. I asked how he knew, and he said it’s
because werewolves are bigger than normal animals. He told me a lot about
werewolves.”
Bane could hardly conceal his smile as Jeb rattled off all the new facts (and
some of them, vicious propaganda against Bane’s kind) ( I most firmly believe, never use ()s in a story. But that is just my opinion) he’d learned. Those
two werewolves had been him and Fang.
“But the point is, when we finally reached our destination he told me that
I was strong and that I could be a demon hunter, too! Can you imagine that? Me
as a demon hunter?’
Bane could imagine it. He could imagine his best friend capturing him,
being the one to place the silver chain around his neck. He shuddered.
“Where were you taking him?” asked Bane, trying to be conversational.
“Oh, he and some other hunters had a camp set up somewhere near here.
When he and I got there, his fellow hunters were actually in the process
of getting rid of several werewolves. I got to stay and watch!”
The young werewolf felt sickened by the excitement in his friend’s voice.
A sense of paranoia crept up on him. The hunters had set up camp just outside
of Ostia! Perhaps they had seen him, saw his blood red eyes, a key trait of all
werewolves- and recognized him for what he was.
Jeb continued to speak. “You should have seen them all rolling around on
the ground like animals! That’s all they are really. Animals. The world would be
improved if all the demons were gotten rid of. Ah! Here we are!”
Bane looked up and saw a sign that read Anglo’s Alehouse. It was a delap-
idated building- it’s roof shingles were pealing, and the door had obviously been
re-hinged, probably after having been torn off in an ale-fueled bar fight.
Jeb held the door open for Bane and the two entered.
The building had a dirt floor, and was crowded with tables and chairs
everywhere. Men talked loudly and drank, while others quietly sipped their
beverages alone in dark corners.
Jeb quickly scanned the room. “There she is!” he announced happily,
apparently unaware of Bane’s sour mood, which had been darkened by the
previous discussion.
Jeb led Bane to a dark corner of the tavern, where a young girl of about
Bane’s age sat nervously, glancing around and jumping at every sound. She was
obviously very wealthy. She was wearing a tight-fitting indigo dress with loose
sleeves that were trimmed with lace. Bane could tell [s]my[/s] (by) the unnatural curve of
her thin waist that she was wearing a corset, a garment he found unattractively
fake.
Bane sucked in his breath as he examined her face. She was the most
gorgeous human he had ever laid eyes on. Her delicately feminine features were
aligned perfectly on her face. Her skin was as pale as a vampire, except for a bit
of rosy color splashed around her cheeks. Her nose turned up aristocratically.
Her eyes were a deep unsettling green. She had long delicate fingers that would
have looked out of place on a common farm girl. Her hair was long and blonde.
Too long to be practical. (Again excellent language used when describing something)
“There you are!” she exclaimed angrily. “How dare you leave me so long
at such an establishment! Do you know what could have happened to me?” Her
accent was that of aristocratic society.
I really am an urchin, thought Bane, contemplating the simple dialect of
Common Speech he spoke.
“Sorry,” apologized Jeb sincerely, bowing slightly to the noble girl. Then
he turned to Bane. “This is Neerie. She’s looking for a guide to take her (to)-?” he
paused and looked at Neerie.
“Gaelica,” she said firmly, her eyes flashing with rebellion and defiance.
Gaelica was the country south of the kingdom of. She’s leaving the king-
dom? Bane thought suspiciously. He yearned to ask whether or not she was
running away, but it was the policy of wilderness guides not to ask why their
clients were going to their final destinations.
Instead, he only whistled. “That’s quite a bit of traveling. It’s going to cost
you a decent amount of money.”
The girl sniffed defiantly. “I have money.”
“Then I can get you there in a little less than a month,” replied Bane.
“That’s a month of life outdoors. You’ll be sleeping without a bed, eating
whatever I can catch. If you get tired and delay us more than a day, it’ll cost you
extra. Understand that, girly?” The last thing Bane wanted was a spoiled brat
to tug around for a month. Also, a month was an extremely long time to go
without shifting. After about a weeks exposure to iron or wolfs bane, a werewolf
would gradually become sick and weak. A month could kill him if he didn’t
shift.
Jeb frowned at Bane with disapproval. “You’ve gotten bad-tempered in
the month since I saw you last.” he declared.
Bane felt a jolt of surprise. “In the month? I haven’t seen you in a month?”
Jeb shook his head. “I don’t think so.”
God, thought Bane. Full moon would arrive soon. “I’m sorry, girly. I can’t
be taking you then.”
Neerie’s eyebrows contracted. “Why?” she pouted.
“I’m supposed to see my brother.” he lied. “Aye. That’s it. Sorry.” He
turned to Jeb. “Well it was pleasant seeing you, but I ought to be leaving.
Goodbye!”
He left the tavern as quickly as he could and retreated into the woods. It
was nearly nightfall. He’d shift soon. I need to find another werewolf to ask when the
full moon is, he deliberated. But right now he was drained. Bane hardly felt like
living now that his brother was gone, and his best friend was contemplating
becoming a werewolf hunter. He shut his eyes and wished it would all go away.
Haruno Sakura wrote:Yes, I know the prolouge isn't finished, but several people told me to move on and go back to it later. Basically all you need to know is Fang was captured by a group of humans and Bane was knocked out. Bane is waking up and is rather confuzzled
oh yeah, I don't have a kingdom name, so ignore that little mishap...
Chapter One
"Wake up, you urchin!" A rough voice with a heavy Northern accent grated Bane's eardrums as he stirred himself into conciseness (consciousness).
"What do you want?" he (Bane, he could mean the guy with the rough voice as well)said as he rubbed his eyes. The son was shining dimly. It had turned a pale pinkish-orange. He’d slept through the entire day. His vision blurred, and then cleared as he looked up and saw several Royal Soldiers dressed in full regalia. The royal family's crest was on their breastplates. He wondered how long he'd been asleep and where he was.
"The royal family is coming through Ostia tonight, and the city leaders want all the poor off the street. It spoils their reputation. So that means you too!" said a young soldier, striking Bane with the butt of his regulation pike.
Ostia, thought Bane. So that's where I am. Ostia was a major port city of the kingdom of(add here the name or 'title here', just don't leave it empty). He hadn't realized how far west he had wandered- all the way to the sea. After Fang had been kidnapped- or whatever had happened that night- Bane had wandered aimlessly for days, unaware of anything, his head still throbbing with a concussion from when he'd been hit.
He could hardly remember any of it. Filthy humans. They'd taken his sister from him, and now his brother. Fang. (Fang here is unnecessary, people already know who you're talking about)
Bane rolled over and closed his eyes. "Can't you just go away, you bastards?"
The Northern soldier squatted down to Bane's level and leaned in close to the thirteen-year old's face. "Excuse me?" he asked threateningly. His breath was an acrid mixture of alcohol and pipe smoke.
The younger soldier who had struck Bane earlier now whacked him on the head. Bane stuck out his tongue. "All right! I'll get up!" He got slowly to his feet.
The boy and the soldiers stared at one another for a moment, and then the soldiers left.
Bane decided he would go into town after all. ( Where does it say he didn't want to go there? Clarify please)
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"I don't look that pitiable do I?" Bane asked himself out loud as he stretched his long arms. He stared down at his bare and calloused feet and laughed. "I look like a bloody tramp!" Bane was tall with a lean muscular frame and broad shoulders. His midnight shoulder-length hair was so dark it shone with a subtle blue hue and hung into his eyes constantly. He wore a tattered pair of beige pants, and a shirt that had a few holes, but wasn't half bad by his standards. Which are admittedly a bit low, he mused. His most noticeable feature was a stunning pair of blood red eyes.
Perhaps less noticeable, accept (except) at night- Bane had another "unique" feature. He was a werewolf.
Bane strained his ears and heard the noise of busy city life: laughter, animals scuffling, and vendors selling their goods.
He was about half a mile outside of Ostia, just off of a well-traveled path. Most of (it) was covered by forest. Cities and towns were hundreds of miles apart from each other, connected by long convoluted paths. There were some major roads, but Bane preferred to take the less crowded ways- often meaning he traveled without a path at all. Bane knew the kingdom like the back of his hand. He was aware of all the shortcuts, all the trails that had long been forgotten.
For the past several years, he and Fang had worked as wilderness guides, leading travelers safely to their destinations for a fee. There was always someone looking to find their way. He and his brother had made quite a few close friends that way.
Bane picked up his pack and made his way toward the crowded path. He hardly ever took this path because of the heavy traffic from merchants on it. (the part is written in a strange manner, change it to something like "by the travelling merchants using it.")
When Bane finally got to Ostia, he felt an immediate sense of cluastrophobia (claustrophobia). He hated being around so many humans at once. It made him paranoid. It brought back memories of massacres he'd seen- the bodies of his people writhing in agony, grotesquely twisting and screaming- all because of a little chain of silver placed on their necks.
His cheeks flushed red as a familiar hatred rushed through his blood.
"Aye, Bane! Long time no see, eh?" someone abruptly called out to him. Bane glanced up and all the hatred immediately left his body. It was Jeb, one of Bane's only human friends. Jeb was a (you could say "also a wilderness...) wilderness guide, and he had often gone on trips with clients with Bane and Fang. He was a tall, gangly (gangly? Is that a word?) man of probably eighteen-twenty-two. He wasn't entirely sure. Orphaned at an early age when berserkers from the Northernlands had ransacked his village, he'd been forced to fend for himself his entire life.
As far as he was concerned, Bane was an orphan as well. He could never reveal the truth to Jeb.
Werewolves were hated all over (better put, everywhere or all over the world) with a lethal passion. They were regarded as demons or evil creatures. Of course, even werewolves referred to themselves ad (as) demons. They were feared because they killed people, and because no one really new (knew) anything about them. Humans feared the unknown. It was a common misconception that werewolves only shifted on the full moon, and that they killed for pleasure.
The truth was far different. Werewolves shifted involuntarily every night, as soon as the sun went down, unless prevented by something such as iron. Iron, silver, and the plant wolfs bane were the only things Bane knew of to prevent shifting.
Bane kept a small supply of wolfsbane, as well as a thin chain of iron that could be worn around his neck like jewlery, in case he ever needed to be with humans at night. He often wore his iron necklace when guiding people to their destinations.
He never used silver because werewolves were "allergic" to silver. Silver burned their skin, and if they were exposed to it for too long, they'd die a death of intense pain. Humans often executed Bane's kind by capturing them, binding them with iron handcuffs or force-feeding them wolfs bane so they cannot shift, and then placing silver chains around their neck. It was the cruelest way to kill someone. Bane himself had a vicious scar around his neck from when he'd been caught in one of these massacres. It was red and angry-looking necklace that always reminded him of the day he lost his sister.
However, on a full moon, it is impossible for a werewolf to avoid shifting. On full moon, a werewolf truly became the worst kind of demon imagineable. They'd kill without thought, including their own kind. A werewolf couldn't control their actions during the full moon. Days before the full moon, packs of werewolves traveling in groups would break up and travel vast distances alone so they wouldn't attack each other. The full moon was Bane's worst enemy.
"Hey, Jeb." Bane said, his voice dripping with fake enthusiasm. He was too anxious about his brother for frivolous conversation.
Jeb hurried over to Bane, and smiled. He glanced around as though searching for something, and frowned. "Where's Fang?" he asked innocently.
Oh, I dunno. A week ago some cloaked man grabbed Fang, knocked me out and disappeared. thought Bane with bitter sarcasm. "Uh- h-he sta-stayed in a town us two went through be-before. He, uh, doesn't care for the vagabond life anymore. I-I think he said he's going to train t-to b-be a, er, a blacksmith. Uh, he's an a-apprentice. I believe he fancies the smith's daughter." Normally a sovereign among liars, Bane stuttered like a guilty child.
One of Jeb’s bushy eyebrows went up like a warning flag. “I don’t believe you.” he said, crossing his arms.
Bane’s breath caught in his throat. What if he inquired about the town? What if he proposed they both visit Fang? What if...
Suddenly Jeb beamed. “That skinny boy a blacksmith? She must be one remarkable girl.”
Bane sighed with relief. “She’s quite pretty, I suppose.”
“Come by [s]at[/s] (to) the tavern with me, and we’ll have a drink. There’s someone I want you to meet.”
As they walked, Bane observed Ostia. The air smelled thickly of salt. The townspeople were furiously preparing for the arrival of the royal family. Bane saw a woman outside of a bakery dressed in her finest outfit, fiercely attacking the dusty street with a broom as her daughter fed scraps of stale bread to seagulls. To the south, he could see the Letztes Hafen mountains looming impressively.
“You know, I could do other things [s]then[/s] (than) be a wilderness guide, too.” interjected Jeb unexpectedly. He was apparently still thinking of Fang.
“What do you mean?” asked Bane curiously.
“Shortly after you and Fang left the last time I saw you two- I think we were somewhere around the town of Nerra- I got another client. He was a demon hunter.”
Bane scowled inwardly. "Demon hunter" was a euphemism for werewolf murderer. Demon hunters were paid to slaughter werewolves.
“Anyway, we were walking and I saw these two wolves. One was black-
about as dark as your hair. The other one was silver. They were just standing
there, watching us. I thought it was peculiar that they didn’t dash away like
wolves normally do. I said it out loud, and the demon hunter said, ‘We ought to
be careful because those are werewolves’. I asked how he knew, and he said it’s
because werewolves are bigger than normal animals. He told me a lot about
werewolves.”
Bane could hardly conceal his smile as Jeb rattled off all the new facts (and
some of them, vicious propaganda against Bane’s kind) ( I most firmly believe, never use ()s in a story. But that is just my opinion) he’d learned. Those
two werewolves had been him and Fang.
“But the point is, when we finally reached our destination he told me that
I was strong and that I could be a demon hunter, too! Can you imagine that? Me
as a demon hunter?’
Bane could imagine it. He could imagine his best friend capturing him,
being the one to place the silver chain around his neck. He shuddered.
“Where were you taking him?” asked Bane, trying to be conversational.
“Oh, he and some other hunters had a camp set up somewhere near here.
When he and I got there, his fellow hunters were actually in the process
of getting rid of several werewolves. I got to stay and watch!”
The young werewolf felt sickened by the excitement in his friend’s voice.
A sense of paranoia crept up on him. The hunters had set up camp just outside
of Ostia! Perhaps they had seen him, saw his blood red eyes, a key trait of all
werewolves- and recognized him for what he was.
Jeb continued to speak. “You should have seen them all rolling around on
the ground like animals! That’s all they are really. Animals. The world would be
improved if all the demons were gotten rid of. Ah! Here we are!”
Bane looked up and saw a sign that read Anglo’s Alehouse. It was a delap-
idated building- it’s roof shingles were pealing, and the door had obviously been
re-hinged, probably after having been torn off in an ale-fueled bar fight.
Jeb held the door open for Bane and the two entered.
The building had a dirt floor, and was crowded with tables and chairs
everywhere. Men talked loudly and drank, while others quietly sipped their
beverages alone in dark corners.
Jeb quickly scanned the room. “There she is!” he announced happily,
apparently unaware of Bane’s sour mood, which had been darkened by the
previous discussion.
Jeb led Bane to a dark corner of the tavern, where a young girl of about
Bane’s age sat nervously, glancing around and jumping at every sound. She was
obviously very wealthy. She was wearing a tight-fitting indigo dress with loose
sleeves that were trimmed with lace. Bane could tell [s]my[/s] (by) the unnatural curve of
her thin waist that she was wearing a corset, a garment he found unattractively
fake.
Bane sucked in his breath as he examined her face. She was the most
gorgeous human he had ever laid eyes on. Her delicately feminine features were
aligned perfectly on her face. Her skin was as pale as a vampire, except for a bit
of rosy color splashed around her cheeks. Her nose turned up aristocratically.
Her eyes were a deep unsettling green. She had long delicate fingers that would
have looked out of place on a common farm girl. Her hair was long and blonde.
Too long to be practical. (Again excellent language used when describing something)
“There you are!” she exclaimed angrily. “How dare you leave me so long
at such an establishment! Do you know what could have happened to me?” Her
accent was that of aristocratic society.
I really am an urchin, thought Bane, contemplating the simple dialect of
Common Speech he spoke.
“Sorry,” apologized Jeb sincerely, bowing slightly to the noble girl. Then
he turned to Bane. “This is Neerie. She’s looking for a guide to take her (to)-?” he
paused and looked at Neerie.
“Gaelica,” she said firmly, her eyes flashing with rebellion and defiance.
Gaelica was the country south of the kingdom of. She’s leaving the king-
dom? Bane thought suspiciously. He yearned to ask whether or not she was
running away, but it was the policy of wilderness guides not to ask why their
clients were going to their final destinations.
Instead, he only whistled. “That’s quite a bit of traveling. It’s going to cost
you a decent amount of money.”
The girl sniffed defiantly. “I have money.”
“Then I can get you there in a little less than a month,” replied Bane.
“That’s a month of life outdoors. You’ll be sleeping without a bed, eating
whatever I can catch. If you get tired and delay us more than a day, it’ll cost you
extra. Understand that, girly?” The last thing Bane wanted was a spoiled brat
to tug around for a month. Also, a month was an extremely long time to go
without shifting. After about a weeks exposure to iron or wolfs bane, a werewolf
would gradually become sick and weak. A month could kill him if he didn’t
shift.
Jeb frowned at Bane with disapproval. “You’ve gotten bad-tempered in
the month since I saw you last.” he declared.
Bane felt a jolt of surprise. “In the month? I haven’t seen you in a month?”
Jeb shook his head. “I don’t think so.”
God, thought Bane. Full moon would arrive soon. “I’m sorry, girly. I can’t
be taking you then.”
Neerie’s eyebrows contracted. “Why?” she pouted.
“I’m supposed to see my brother.” he lied. “Aye. That’s it. Sorry.” He
turned to Jeb. “Well it was pleasant seeing you, but I ought to be leaving.
Goodbye!”
He left the tavern as quickly as he could and retreated into the woods. It
was nearly nightfall. He’d shift soon. I need to find another werewolf to ask when the
full moon is, he deliberated. But right now he was drained. Bane hardly felt like
living now that his brother was gone, and his best friend was contemplating
becoming a werewolf hunter. He shut his eyes and wished it would all go away.
120,216 Literary Works • 649,141 Reviews
Gender:
Points: 3225
Reviews: 365