The most cliched fantasy story ever.

[ice.monkey]

Okay, let's write the most cliched fantasy story ever. The rules are very simple:

1. Every post has to contain a cliche in it.
2. Keep the posts relatively short - a paragraph or two should be enough.
3. Keep the story to fantasy only.
4. No ending of the story quickly. This is fantasy - its got to go on for at least 1,000 pages!!

So, to begin...


Once upon a time there was a young boy whose parents had been brutally slain by invading barbarians. He had been the only survivor of his village when the enemy had attacked by virtue of having decided to run away from home following an argument with his father.

to be continued...

 

[Pyan]

When he returned to the burned out shell of his home after the attack, the only thing he could salvage was a rough stone pendant that he found hidden in what had been his mother's lock-box - it had been left because it had no apparent value.


( this what you mean, IM, or more padding?)

 

[Talysia]

He clutched the pendant tightly, knowing that it was possibly the only thing left he had of his family. Who had done this, and why? With no survivors, it was impossible to tell, but he knew one thing - he would find out! Running out of the ruined house as fast as he could, the boy swore to himself that he would avenge his family's deaths. With that in mind, he set out on his quest.

 

[Culhwch]

It was not long before he ran across an old man. He was grumpy, he was crotchety, he was just plain annoying.... but there was something about him. The young boy, whose name was Pe'tir (pronounced Peter), decided against his better judgement to travel with the old man....

 

[dwndrgn]

Pe'tir was given many strange tasks to do for the old man. Some seemed rather pointless but since the old man, Gandol'menhir, was keeping him fed and protected, he did them without complaint.

One day while staring at a rock and trying to devine it's inner properties, which was his current task for Gandol'menhir, he felt a burning on his chest.

 

[ice.monkey]

(this what you mean, IM, or more padding?)

That's fine, Py. As long as we keep the cliches coming...

Gandol'menhir

LOL.

He clasped his hand to his breast to find the stone pendant he now wore around his neck was hot to the touch. He removed it from under his shirt and stared in amazement as it glowed a pale blue.

"Ah, the time has come," Gandol'menhir said. "I knew this day would arrive, but I just didn't know it would be so soon. And before your training is complete. It is a shame..."

Gandol'menhir leaned on his staff and looked wistfully into the distance.

"What does it mean?" Pe'tir asked.

 

[Duchessprozac]

Gandol'menhir stared at Pe'tir for what seemed an age before bowing his head and saying." I cannot tell you at this moment in time, lest you befall to the dangers it shall bring, I can say, however that it means you must leave me now, for it not safe here any longer."

 

[Talysia]

"What do you mean, it's not safe?" Pe'tir said. He lifted the pendant until he could see it properly. "Is it because of this?"
"Only partially," Gandol'menhir replied, his bushy eyebrows meeting as he frowned. "Go. When the time is right, you will find out everything you need to know."
Pe'tir thrust the glowing pendant back into the collar of his shirt. "Why me?" he said petulantly as he turned to leave. Then he looked over his shoulder at the old man. "Goodbye, Gandol'menhir."

 

[Pyan]

Meanwhile, two hundred dark leagues away, in the Dark Citadel of Braddur, the Dark One himself stood by the dark window of his throne-room, looking out darkly over the vast, dark, smoking ash-piles of the Dark Land of Dormor.

 

[The Ace]

"Z'narfll !," he roared.
His hunchbacked steward limped in, "Yeth mathteer ?"
"Have the cook hung by his feet for three days, flayed and disembowelled, I WILL NOT HAVE SUGAR IN MY PORRIDGE !!!!!! And, if you can find the time, CLEAN THIS F'ZRAKK WINDOW OR JOIN HIM!!!!!!!"

 

[Pyan]

Z'narfll fled, shutting the door just in time, as the offending porridge bowl smashed against the other side.
As he limped away down the dark corridor toward the kitchen, he muttered under his breath.
" Oh, yeth, it'th Z'narfll do thith, and Z'narfll do that at the moment. But when the fortheth of the Fair rithe up, the dark Lord'th of thith world will be catht down into the uttermotht thlime!"
His eyes glowed with a strange, red, feral light, as he scurried into the kitchen

 

[Talysia]

Half an idea formed in the hunchback's mind, and a smile appeared on Z'narfll's face. One day, he wouldn't be the one to take orders: He would be the one to give them! Made bolder by his decision, Z'narfll went over to the cobweb-ridden shelf full of eerie bottles of potions, skulls and jars of various things to collect what he'd need for his current task.

 

[ice.monkey]

Upstairs, the Dark One had been joined by a very tall man in a hooded cloak. Almost as dark as the Dark One himself, he stood with his arms folded and his cloak hiding his features and body.

"Bring the boy to me," the Dark One commanded.

 

[Commonmind]

The hooded man moved as silent as death, his cloak a mass of rippling onyx. The Dark One's command must always be obeyed; failure would mean pain beyond comprehension, boundless suffering without end. An eternity in the Abyss would be nothing by comparison. Mezgolarius would bring the boy to him, and he would be rewarded.

He pulled the blighted stiletto from its sheath, its cursed edge drinking in the light of the room, whispering to him that it was ready to feed. And he, as ever, was ready to oblige its request.

 

[dwndrgn]

Meanwhile, elsewhere in the land, a striking young maiden wiped the sweat off her pretty brow. Candlemaking can be hot work! She thought as she cleaned up the clutter her work with the tallow had made. She worked her way through the stillroom, lightly touching each herb she passed and mentally recalling its name and uses. Borrisroot for fever, chills and shakes. Livendish for aches of the head.

As she closed the door behind her, a shadow fell over her.

"How many times must I tell you girl that you must finish each task quickly and move on to the next. No dallying. I don't care who your parents were, at the moment you are just a servant and as such I expect you to get your work done! Now get upstairs and finish cleaning the sleeping chambers before you must be down here again to serve the evening meal.

 

[Pyan]

She clenched her fists, struggling to control the anger that rose within her like a flame devouring dry wood. No! She would not let her stepmother see that she was angry!
"Yes, stepmama", she said. "I'll do it all as soon as I can"
"That you will" her stepmother replied." or there'll be tears before morning!"
She turned away, wiping an unformed tear from her eye. Surely someone would come and take her away from all this!

 

[The Ace]

Meanwhile, on a faraway mountainside, Pe'tir struggled through the blizzard which had appeared from nowhere, but, by all that was holy, there was a light ahead. Moments later he was hammering on the door of the isolated cottage, where a great, bear-like man admitted him.

 

[Talysia]

"So," the bearlike man said in a booming voice, "what brings you all the way out here?"
Pe'tir shook the snow from his clothes and hurried over to the cheerful fire, holding out his hands to catch the warmth. "I'm looking for someone," he replied, shivering. "Who are you?"
"Me?" The giant laughed and stroked his long beard. "My name is Domaren, young man, and this is my house. You are welcome to stay, ah...?
"Pe'tir," he supplied. He could feel nothing from the pendant, so he supposed that he would be temporarily safe here. Judging from the various animal skins around the room, the big man was a hunter, maybe even a hermit.
"Well, Pe'tir," Domaren was saying, "you are welcome to stay until the blizzard dies down. After that, you can go looking for your friend again."
"The ones I'm looking for aren't friends," Pe'tir said softly.

 

[jackokent]

Something in the boy's tone made the giant look up sharply. For such a large man he was astonishingly fast. Before Pe'tir had time to react Domaren had snatched at the lacing at his throat and lifted the pendent into view.
"Ah." he breathed in awed tones. "Just as the seer Menthrull foretold. You must be the one. But so young!"
Abruptly releasing the pendent he turned away and began rooting franticly in an old chest in the corner. "Don't worry Master I have it here. I have kept it safe for you all these years".
"What?" Pe'tir demanded, thoroughly bewildered.
The giant was already turning back, something long and heavy in his arms.
"Why your sword of course, Master. The first and most wondrous, forged for the mightiest lord of the greatest kings of ancient and noble race, the Eyahammunchii."
"But surely nothing but of theirs survived the cataclysm?"
"Nothing but the enchanted sword, Master. It has waited the return of the one true Guardian until this day. It has waited for you!”

 

[The Ace]

(At this point, George R R Martin would probably be ready to wipe them out.)

In the Dark Kingdom, the dark assassin used his mind to control his riding-beast. Bred for war, this had been a good day as one of the three stable-lads was almost certain to live.