Young Writers Society

This is just the start of my story and im looking for some critisism to put me on the right track to a good story. (there may be some SP mistakes, but WordPad dun have a spelcheck! sorry.)

Prolougue

There I was, finaly escaping that damn prison, after 20 years of merciless hard labour. I glanced over my shoulder, and laughed hysterically. Not since the great Heracules has someone escaped those prison walls. And thank Gods he did! His escape tunnel was still in mint condition, obviously nobody had discovered it (until now). Lets see, its nightime now so it will be morning before anyone notices I'm gone. 'Perfect'. But where can I go now? Surely by dawn every city in Vvanderfall will be on red alert. A cave mabye? Red mountain was quite scenic this time of year. 'Nah, too obvious'. Then it struck me. The mages guild! All I need to do is sneak into Balmora. How was I gonna do that? I guess I could come in by night, when the water is dark and murky. 'Yes,perfect...' Then a wolfe`s howl awoke me from my trance. It is time I left this place.And so off I went, blindly into the darkness where my future lay. But before tell you that story, I need to tell you this one...

Chapter 1

The school I went to (Blessed Amalexia University) was incredibly big, so big that their wasn't enough room for the altermers classrooms, so the Education Guild ordered a brand new levitating floor to be placed above the school. But the biggest room, and the room I was inside most of time was the library. The shelves climbed higher and longer than the eye could see. The Education Guild had said it was a triumph in the progression of young minds. Every sort of book, from enchantment to conjuration. Scholars and Educationalists came from all across Vvanderfall to read. Indeed, it is one of the many tasks you must accomplish before you can even think about joining the Historians Guild is to read from the 'Fountain of knowledge' as they called it. A rumour had gone round the school for a period of time that the library had over 700000 librarians employed, but that was impossible. One day I was taking a stroll down the far end of the library, looking for any books on Alteration I may have missed. Then suddenly a large book caught my eye. I walked over to it casualy. On the front was a pair of red glowing eye's. 'Spartons of Vvanderfall: Volume 1' adorned the top of the page in a Dark elf style. I looked at the back of the book. 'Written and researched by "Knawler Hissendric'. 'Whats a Sparton?,' I thought. I lifted the book gently. Whispers of dust fell from the pages as I opened the book carefully.

Chapter 1: Whats a Sparton?

'With minds of insanity and spears upthrust, these twisted beings leak into our world. No one I know has seen one, and not got insane from the experience. They tear up reality and bend our minds until we no longer can think for ourselves. They lurch at the dead of night and sleep all through the day. They can shape reality and use it to their own advantage and nothing on this earth can stop them.'

-High Priest Xavier Ofiglio

The most we know about Spartons is that they are vampires gone insane with power. Their minds become warped and they see things that we cannot, do things we cannot, feel, taste and hear things we wouldn't dream of. They have so much power they can alter the reality itself, fusing the link between their world and ours. They no longer crave blood nearly as much as sane vampires, instead they eat raw flesh from everything that moves. The dress in silly costumes which they see as very facionable, and are quite easy to spot.

Their are to two types of Spartan. Type 1 is the most common type of Spartan. They were either ill or about to die in their former life, and by being bitten they have disrupted the balance of nature and thereby changing the usual course of reality, and thereby gaining the knowledge of how to alter the universe. The second is a when a healthy vampire gets bitten by a werewolf and contracts Lunicarus Scepticurus and contracts the werewolf gene. This is a very rare occasion as vampire are very immune to disease. For some reason the universe cracks open and splits. Thus, the Vampire has direct access to the main control to the universe.

Spartans are mainly spotted deep in the forest, hermits to the civilised world. They occasionaly venture out into a nearby town, but always undercover of night. They scale the gates, avoiding the guards. and sneaking into the mansions. They steal things like food, drink, gold, clothes and ingredients for potions. If they are caught, less skilled Spartans tend to try to claw their way to the nearest exit, however more skilled Spartans have been known to be able to teleport back to the forest.

Spartans are hated throughout the land of Vvanderfall, not even accepted into Vampire clan, The Bloodfang Tong, The Shadowclaw Tong or the Assasins Guild. The -

Suddenly, my reading was interrupted by the claning of the bell which signalled the end of break. I gently closed the book and carried it over to the front desk. A tall, Dark Elf women stared at me through her thick glasses.'Yesss?' the woman said.

'Hello, I'd like to take out this book please. Here is my card' I replied, handing over my card to the woman

'I see, and when will you return it?'

'When Im finished with it' I replied quickly

'And when will that be?'

'Tuesday the 21st, at 13:21' I said. The Woman didn't smile. She stamped my card and handed it to me.

'You'd better hurry up, class will be starting soon' She said. I nodded and ran through the large, wooden gates of the library and out into the hot afternoon sun of the city of Mournhold. I stood for a moment, letting the sun warm my blood after spending the afternoon in the cold library. I glanced at my timetable. 'Archery'. Damn! I'd left my crossbow at home! Mr Jendo would be furious. I turned my attention to the bell tower. I had 15 minuites. I sprinted toward the gold encrusted doors that lead to the 'Gods Reach' residential zone of Mournhold. I nodded to the door guard and presented my residential details, and was allowed to pass. I accelerated again, slowing only to turn round the winding streets of Gods Reach, until I reached the small, rusted iron doors of my home. I fumbled in my pocket for my keys and quickly unhatched the steel bolt. Unlike most houses in Gods Reach, mine was cosy and small, unlike the mansions in upper gods reach. It had little windows and only 4 rooms. A kitchen, my bedroom, a living room and a bathroom.

Mournhold has the best sanitation in Vvanderfall and is not afraid to flaunt it. The annual sanitation parade goes right by my house ever week, and the solid gold statue of a flushing toilet is situated in the centre of the town, next to the mages guild. I made quick use of 'The Best in the West' sanitation before entering my bedroom.

Clothes covered the floor of my bedroom and it took me a few moments before I could locate my old, worn wooden chest. I unlocked the metal hinges and swung it open. I quickly grabbed my 'Hines Brothers' mark 4 crossbow before hurrying out of the room. I fumbled again for my keys and locked the front door. I headed straight for the door marked 'EXIT', avoiding as many rogue merchants trying to sell me 'sun dried guar hide' as I could.

As I clambered through the doors, I caught another glimpse of the clock. I had 2 min. I raced again, but by now I was tired and out of breath. I made it to the archery range just as the bell wrang. I quickley ran up beside my best friend at the time, Hanson Redoran.

Hanson was not a strong kid in any way shape or form. He wasn't good at fighting, he was useless with a bow and everyone runs for cover when he

Mr Jendo glared at me with his two beady little eyes, as if to say, 'One fault and your outta here faster than the god of speed, Mr Demi.' He told us to line up on a white line he had painted on the grass. He told us to take aim and the stuffed dummy about 40metres away. I lifted my crossbow high into the air and gently curled my finger over the trigger. 'Fire!'. A hail of bolts flew into the air, raining down upon the condemed dummy. The class ran up to inspect the victim. Several arrows had thudded into the ground around the dummy and one had lodged itself into the leg. But one arrow had made the fatal blow. It was sticking out of the corpses head, nailing the cruedly drawn eye on its face to the post which held it up. A slow trickle of flour was bleeding out of the puncture. Someone behind me swore in Argonian loudly behind me.

'Wow' I excalimed, gazing in absoloute amazement.

'Who did this?' Mr Jendo barked. He pulled out the arrow and examined it. Engraved were the initials, 'K.Lemons'. 'Keg? Where is Keg Lemons? Step forward this instant!' A boy from the back shuffled his way through the still gawping class.

'Sorry, sir. I didn't mean to...' He started, but he then caught a glimpse of Jendo's face and decided it was best to be silent. Mr Jendo stared down at the boy with his huge, heay eyes and to everyone amazement, started clapping. More and more people joined in until the whole class had sore hands. Then, Mr Jendo outstreached his arm and put it over Keg's shoulder and lead him off the pitch and into the school office.

'Does this mean class is dismissed?' Someone shouted at the teacher. The teacher waved his hand over his head and the class needed no more persuation.

Chapter 2

Francis gave up counting the days long ago. There were no windows in his cage. Just a thin matress, a blanket and a bucket. Across from his cage was the exit door, taunting ever wakig momnet of his life. His friend, Leonard, was next to him, with only a thin wall keeping them apart. They talked to each other sometimes, even though it was forbiden to make any physical contact with anyone. The walls were oozing with grime and dirt from being unwashed for years.

The sound of something being unhinged woke him from his daydream. A man walked into the room. He was an orc, and like most of the guardians in the camp, he wielded a whip in his grubby hands. He lifted his arm and pointed at Francis. Francis stared at him with his huge eyes that Khajiits alone posses. He smirked sadisticly and unlocked my cage door. He told Francis to come out with his hands on his head. He did so obidiently. He marched out of the cage and through the bloodtained swing doors. Sunlight hit him like a rock to the face. The orc laughed at Francis. Francis saw ahead the doors that lead outside. To get to the execution room, you had to go outside as the building was seperate. It would be then that Francis would make his move. The orc opened the huge door to the outside and let it swing back in Francis's face. The orc laughed his putrid, nasal laugh once more. This enfuriated Francis even more. He watched as the orc unlocked the barbed gates and allowed me to pass. He waited for the orc to be in the centre of the crossing, then he triggered his long sharp tiger claws. It felt good being finaly able to unleash his claws for the first time in years, and sliced into the orcs back. He slashed again, and again until he was sure the orc would not get back up. He had no time to loose. Francis made for the forest at the side of the prison. In the background, the screeching and wailing of the siren could be heard, alerting all prison staff of a prison break. Francis dived into the forest and was instantly relieved of the pressing sunlight. With his new found strength he tried in vain to pull of his tagged slave bracer. He bit it with his long, sharp teeth and heard a crunching sound. The bracer smashed into metal fragments and Francis threw the pieces in all different directions. Rain washed over his head, cleaning the blood from his mighty claws and reminding his of his mission. He turned toward the forest, and trundled onwards. If he kept heading west, he would eventualy reach the doors to Mournhold.