prydex
New Member
- Joined
- Nov 26, 2003
- Messages
- 2
Here is one of my first attempts on writing. I actually intended this story to be a part of a bigger one. It is some sort of a legend of a hero which also served as an introduction of this character for the bigger story. I am trying to write a fantasy/adventure; i have a the story outlined already but i am still focusing on my characters.
I admit i am not a good critique that's i'm why posting it here. I can't seem to make improvisations for the story. I am ready to accept any opinions but maybe not-so-deep literary critiques.
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The Glass Swordsman
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In the small kingdom of Leone, farther south of the mountains that extend to the southern part of Akron, there spread a rumor (which should appropriately called a legend) of a fierce warrior that lurks in the dark in pursuit of evildoers everywhere. Such was the legend of the Glass Swordsman. These stories have been passed from mouth to mouth of every villager of Leone and every traveler that dwells within. Some stories have been created and further recreated but the true features of the great warrior persist in every story. This is how the legend was made:
It was a dark and cloudy yet very peaceful night. The next shift of the gatekeepers has come. Although the threat of war is gone, the kingdom still stays vigilant. Gates were never left unguarded. Fortresses were never left unmanned. The news of the peace treaty has spread all over the continent but Leone continues its watchfulness day after every tiring day, night after every forbidding night.
The next shift of guards for the night started to traverse the vicinity. Some have manned the catapults. The others have guarded the gates and the towers. In the name of duty, all began the night watch.
The night began to pass by very slowly. Everything is quiet. Only the occasional sound of a wolves’ howl or an eagle’s scream can be heard. Inside the tall gates the serene sound of repose emanates from the low wooden houses of the townsfolk. Outside, on the hillside where the gates face, the barren stretch of ragged land remain as still as a desert. No creature can be seen stirring on the vast grassland that encircles Leone’s backyard. The peaceful aura of the night radiated through out the land that surrounds the town. After more than half a century of war, peace has come at last…
Or so they thought. For there was something different that night. It was definitely peaceful. Yet it seems too peaceful. The guards began to notice and immediately stood on alert. Even the gatekeepers have noticed the silence. It seems to be too silent. It was as if the wind has died. No more howls were heard. Nor the soft screaming of the cicadas on the hillside. Even the air became bleak and dry. The aura of peace is gone.
The captain of the guards noticed the changes and began roving the gates. The southern side seems to be safe—no creature could be concealed from the desolate stretch of the grassland. Immediately, the captain concentrated their forces on the front gate because the hills are where most likely the enemy would attack. Besides, it is the only direction where the attackers might strike—to their south, west and south-east beyond the grass land is nothing but the ocean. It is further northwest where the rival kingdom used to base their soldiers .The catapults are geared up. More archers were summoned. Soldiers brace themselves for the long night.
Midnight passed. Still, there is no sign of any attackers around the kingdom.
A few hours before dawn, a large fire broke out beyond the grasslands. Suddenly, the southern horizon blazed with a fiery glow. The steward was awakened by the sound of fire. Everyone was awakened by the sound of an incoming war. A few seconds after the blaze, slaughter began. From the hillside in front of the kingdom gates, a legion of soldiers appeared; some carrying spears, some clubs, some short swords. The silence of the night was suddenly saturated by the dreary screams and yells of raging fighters. The archers began shooting at the barbarians. Catapults began firing blazing balls. The barbarians began to move forward on frenzy but the defensive strength of the kingdom was so immense that not a single barbarian had even touched the base of the gates.
As the war progress, more reinforcements from the barracks are being sent to the defense perimeter. Meanwhile, the captain continuously observed the fire beyond the grassland.
At last the sun had risen. The attacking barbarians on the front gates have been dispersed. The remaining ones have fled to the mountains. The war has ended as soon as it had begun.
That morning, the captain assembled a group to investigate the fire on the grassland. The captain, together with his band of horsemen, strode to the barren lands not knowing who or what danger they will face.
It was late afternoon when the group arrived at the site. The captain was awed as well as terrified by what he saw. The captain got off his horse to study the area. On his feet and extending towards the oceans, there lay hundreds and hundred of corpses. These corpses seem to be the same race as the ones they have fought on the front gates. But there is one very striking thing about the scene—there is no corpse that can be seen that which is of different appearance with the others. Not a single slayer of these barbarians was killed.
The rumor spread about what happened and how the anonymous fighters have saved their kingdom from defeat. It seems everyone has their own version of what really happened. Some say it was caused by some vicious monsters or wild animals. Some say they were soldiers from a neighboring kingdom. But no matter how much these people hypothesize, only one thing is for sure—that there is an impending war on their kingdom.
The captain himself has his story, which is by far the closest thing to the truth. For him, those who defeated the barbarians were actually a band of townspeople who acted anonymously to protect the kingdom. But he is wrong with one thing, because those fighters who defeated the attackers are not a band of townsmen—but merely a single townsman.
He is the Glass Swordsman. He lives inside the tall gates of the kingdom though his identity remains a secret to everyone. Instead of an steel sword, he uses glass sword, thus his name. He uses a long broken piece of glass that is pointed on one end and thickened on the other—shaped like a big triangular needle. Before every fight, he wraps thick cloth on his hands so that he will be safeguarded from the sharp handle. After every fight, his hands become afflicted of wounds and blood—the thick cloth is not enough to protect his hands from the sharp and pointed edges of the glass sword.
Despite of and due to the self-afflicting effect of his weapon, the glass sword has given him a unique fighting technique. The fragility of the sword has prompted him to always dodge every blow and not to shield himself with it. As much as possible, he always evades the attack of his enemies. He only attacks when he is really sure that his sword will not be counterattacked by his enemy and when he is certain that his blow would strike the enemy’s flesh.
When he faces a quite valiant enemy, he uses the fragility of his glass sword to defeat the strong opponent. This is when he attacks the enemy with his full strength. When the enemy tries to shield his glass sword using their own sword, the glass swordsman would let the glass break from the impact. The shattered pieces of the sword would then slash straight to the opponent’s flesh and the foe would not have any other defense but to succumb to the flying pieces of pointed glass.
It is as if the legendary warrior Achilles has risen from his grave. Even then, the glass swordsman may even be a hardier fighter.
That is the legend of the Glass Swordsman.
I admit i am not a good critique that's i'm why posting it here. I can't seem to make improvisations for the story. I am ready to accept any opinions but maybe not-so-deep literary critiques.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
The Glass Swordsman
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
In the small kingdom of Leone, farther south of the mountains that extend to the southern part of Akron, there spread a rumor (which should appropriately called a legend) of a fierce warrior that lurks in the dark in pursuit of evildoers everywhere. Such was the legend of the Glass Swordsman. These stories have been passed from mouth to mouth of every villager of Leone and every traveler that dwells within. Some stories have been created and further recreated but the true features of the great warrior persist in every story. This is how the legend was made:
It was a dark and cloudy yet very peaceful night. The next shift of the gatekeepers has come. Although the threat of war is gone, the kingdom still stays vigilant. Gates were never left unguarded. Fortresses were never left unmanned. The news of the peace treaty has spread all over the continent but Leone continues its watchfulness day after every tiring day, night after every forbidding night.
The next shift of guards for the night started to traverse the vicinity. Some have manned the catapults. The others have guarded the gates and the towers. In the name of duty, all began the night watch.
The night began to pass by very slowly. Everything is quiet. Only the occasional sound of a wolves’ howl or an eagle’s scream can be heard. Inside the tall gates the serene sound of repose emanates from the low wooden houses of the townsfolk. Outside, on the hillside where the gates face, the barren stretch of ragged land remain as still as a desert. No creature can be seen stirring on the vast grassland that encircles Leone’s backyard. The peaceful aura of the night radiated through out the land that surrounds the town. After more than half a century of war, peace has come at last…
Or so they thought. For there was something different that night. It was definitely peaceful. Yet it seems too peaceful. The guards began to notice and immediately stood on alert. Even the gatekeepers have noticed the silence. It seems to be too silent. It was as if the wind has died. No more howls were heard. Nor the soft screaming of the cicadas on the hillside. Even the air became bleak and dry. The aura of peace is gone.
The captain of the guards noticed the changes and began roving the gates. The southern side seems to be safe—no creature could be concealed from the desolate stretch of the grassland. Immediately, the captain concentrated their forces on the front gate because the hills are where most likely the enemy would attack. Besides, it is the only direction where the attackers might strike—to their south, west and south-east beyond the grass land is nothing but the ocean. It is further northwest where the rival kingdom used to base their soldiers .The catapults are geared up. More archers were summoned. Soldiers brace themselves for the long night.
Midnight passed. Still, there is no sign of any attackers around the kingdom.
A few hours before dawn, a large fire broke out beyond the grasslands. Suddenly, the southern horizon blazed with a fiery glow. The steward was awakened by the sound of fire. Everyone was awakened by the sound of an incoming war. A few seconds after the blaze, slaughter began. From the hillside in front of the kingdom gates, a legion of soldiers appeared; some carrying spears, some clubs, some short swords. The silence of the night was suddenly saturated by the dreary screams and yells of raging fighters. The archers began shooting at the barbarians. Catapults began firing blazing balls. The barbarians began to move forward on frenzy but the defensive strength of the kingdom was so immense that not a single barbarian had even touched the base of the gates.
As the war progress, more reinforcements from the barracks are being sent to the defense perimeter. Meanwhile, the captain continuously observed the fire beyond the grassland.
At last the sun had risen. The attacking barbarians on the front gates have been dispersed. The remaining ones have fled to the mountains. The war has ended as soon as it had begun.
That morning, the captain assembled a group to investigate the fire on the grassland. The captain, together with his band of horsemen, strode to the barren lands not knowing who or what danger they will face.
It was late afternoon when the group arrived at the site. The captain was awed as well as terrified by what he saw. The captain got off his horse to study the area. On his feet and extending towards the oceans, there lay hundreds and hundred of corpses. These corpses seem to be the same race as the ones they have fought on the front gates. But there is one very striking thing about the scene—there is no corpse that can be seen that which is of different appearance with the others. Not a single slayer of these barbarians was killed.
The rumor spread about what happened and how the anonymous fighters have saved their kingdom from defeat. It seems everyone has their own version of what really happened. Some say it was caused by some vicious monsters or wild animals. Some say they were soldiers from a neighboring kingdom. But no matter how much these people hypothesize, only one thing is for sure—that there is an impending war on their kingdom.
The captain himself has his story, which is by far the closest thing to the truth. For him, those who defeated the barbarians were actually a band of townspeople who acted anonymously to protect the kingdom. But he is wrong with one thing, because those fighters who defeated the attackers are not a band of townsmen—but merely a single townsman.
He is the Glass Swordsman. He lives inside the tall gates of the kingdom though his identity remains a secret to everyone. Instead of an steel sword, he uses glass sword, thus his name. He uses a long broken piece of glass that is pointed on one end and thickened on the other—shaped like a big triangular needle. Before every fight, he wraps thick cloth on his hands so that he will be safeguarded from the sharp handle. After every fight, his hands become afflicted of wounds and blood—the thick cloth is not enough to protect his hands from the sharp and pointed edges of the glass sword.
Despite of and due to the self-afflicting effect of his weapon, the glass sword has given him a unique fighting technique. The fragility of the sword has prompted him to always dodge every blow and not to shield himself with it. As much as possible, he always evades the attack of his enemies. He only attacks when he is really sure that his sword will not be counterattacked by his enemy and when he is certain that his blow would strike the enemy’s flesh.
When he faces a quite valiant enemy, he uses the fragility of his glass sword to defeat the strong opponent. This is when he attacks the enemy with his full strength. When the enemy tries to shield his glass sword using their own sword, the glass swordsman would let the glass break from the impact. The shattered pieces of the sword would then slash straight to the opponent’s flesh and the foe would not have any other defense but to succumb to the flying pieces of pointed glass.
It is as if the legendary warrior Achilles has risen from his grave. Even then, the glass swordsman may even be a hardier fighter.
That is the legend of the Glass Swordsman.
