Pretzel
25-11-04, 09:49 AM
This is my first story. Please give me your thoughts.
Al the Adventurer
Chapter One.
First there was nothing. Then there was some stuff. Then, a while after that stuff, there was Al. He was a baby. As Al grew, his parents noticed that he had IMMENSE strength, so they sent him to a bard. The bard was a crazy old man, and he taught Al to be crazy too. Soon after Al turned 7, the bard died. Al was devastated, and went back to the kingdom of his parents. His parents, who had once been the king and queen of their land, had been overthrown, by the evil overlord, Mortimer. Mortimer had changed the once lush, green, valley city, into an industrial wasteland, filled with dark magic. The former bubbling streams, which had contained fish of every shape, size, and color, were now rotten tar pits, which moved as slow as molasses . The dumps could not even have a CHANCE at harboring life. The once green fields, in which deer and rabbits had frolicked freely, had been changed into Giant industrial plants, which belched smoke into the once clean air, turning it into a dark fog.
Al grew very angry. He remembered playing in his parent’s gardens as a boy of three, and how he had loved to look at the clouds with his caretaker. He remembered how every cloud looked like a rabbit or a fire truck. Now, as he stared out the window of his parent’s one room cabin in the slums, every one of the black clouds looked like an oil stain. Al swore he would get his revenge on Lord Mortimer. Al grew stronger and stronger each day. By the time he was eight he could pick up a horse. When he was nine, he could pick up his house. By the time he was ten, he was ready to seek revenge. Al told his parents that he was leaving, and that they couldn’t stop him. They believed him, and let him go.
As Al walked out of his house with nothing but a few coins in his pocket and the clothes on his back, he realized he would need a weapon. Al went into the forest, and found a hard, straight stick that was about 5 feet long. He found a vine hanging from a nearby tree, and fastened it to his stick to make himself a bow and arrow. Then, he went to search for smaller sticks, and rocks to make the arrows. Once Al had collected nearly 40 straight sticks, and 40 rocks, he came to a small clearing. He looked up, and saw the sun descending over the mountain ridge. Al found a large piece of dry bark, took one of his sticks, and ground the stick into the bark. When he saw a sparks, he threw dried leaves into his fire. Soon he had a fire licking upwards, piercing the darkness. He set to work sharpening the stones to make arrowheads. Once he had some arrowheads, he set out to find food. He found a deer, alone and asleep. As Al crept towards the deer, the deer looked at him, just for a second, then ran. Al grabbed one of his arrows, and lobbed it after the deer. The arrow struck the deer in the rear, just above the thigh, and the deer fell. Al raced after the deer, and removed the arrow, and found the deer dead. He dragged the animal back to his camp, and with one of his sharpened rocks, he skinned it. He roasted the dear over the fire. Then he took the dears hide, and made a pack for his arrows.
The next morning Al awoke to the sounds of birds chirping, beavers eating trees, and the bubbling of a small creak. Al went to the creek, and got some water. Then he returned to the camp, and finished the rest of the deer for breakfast. He gathered up his breakfast, and continued his trek to find Mortimer’s castle. He climbed a nearby tree, and as he looked around, he saw the dark towers of a castle. Al jumped down from the tree, and as he grew closer, he heard some voices talking. Al peered around a tree trunk, and saw a large glowing rock. He did not see, however, anything that could be making the voices. As Al walked towards the rock, he felt something snag his ankle. Suddenly, Al felt himself jerked violently into the air. He was hanging, upside down, nearly ten feet up. “What a great way to start my quest.” said Al aloud.
Al the Adventurer
Chapter One.
First there was nothing. Then there was some stuff. Then, a while after that stuff, there was Al. He was a baby. As Al grew, his parents noticed that he had IMMENSE strength, so they sent him to a bard. The bard was a crazy old man, and he taught Al to be crazy too. Soon after Al turned 7, the bard died. Al was devastated, and went back to the kingdom of his parents. His parents, who had once been the king and queen of their land, had been overthrown, by the evil overlord, Mortimer. Mortimer had changed the once lush, green, valley city, into an industrial wasteland, filled with dark magic. The former bubbling streams, which had contained fish of every shape, size, and color, were now rotten tar pits, which moved as slow as molasses . The dumps could not even have a CHANCE at harboring life. The once green fields, in which deer and rabbits had frolicked freely, had been changed into Giant industrial plants, which belched smoke into the once clean air, turning it into a dark fog.
Al grew very angry. He remembered playing in his parent’s gardens as a boy of three, and how he had loved to look at the clouds with his caretaker. He remembered how every cloud looked like a rabbit or a fire truck. Now, as he stared out the window of his parent’s one room cabin in the slums, every one of the black clouds looked like an oil stain. Al swore he would get his revenge on Lord Mortimer. Al grew stronger and stronger each day. By the time he was eight he could pick up a horse. When he was nine, he could pick up his house. By the time he was ten, he was ready to seek revenge. Al told his parents that he was leaving, and that they couldn’t stop him. They believed him, and let him go.
As Al walked out of his house with nothing but a few coins in his pocket and the clothes on his back, he realized he would need a weapon. Al went into the forest, and found a hard, straight stick that was about 5 feet long. He found a vine hanging from a nearby tree, and fastened it to his stick to make himself a bow and arrow. Then, he went to search for smaller sticks, and rocks to make the arrows. Once Al had collected nearly 40 straight sticks, and 40 rocks, he came to a small clearing. He looked up, and saw the sun descending over the mountain ridge. Al found a large piece of dry bark, took one of his sticks, and ground the stick into the bark. When he saw a sparks, he threw dried leaves into his fire. Soon he had a fire licking upwards, piercing the darkness. He set to work sharpening the stones to make arrowheads. Once he had some arrowheads, he set out to find food. He found a deer, alone and asleep. As Al crept towards the deer, the deer looked at him, just for a second, then ran. Al grabbed one of his arrows, and lobbed it after the deer. The arrow struck the deer in the rear, just above the thigh, and the deer fell. Al raced after the deer, and removed the arrow, and found the deer dead. He dragged the animal back to his camp, and with one of his sharpened rocks, he skinned it. He roasted the dear over the fire. Then he took the dears hide, and made a pack for his arrows.
The next morning Al awoke to the sounds of birds chirping, beavers eating trees, and the bubbling of a small creak. Al went to the creek, and got some water. Then he returned to the camp, and finished the rest of the deer for breakfast. He gathered up his breakfast, and continued his trek to find Mortimer’s castle. He climbed a nearby tree, and as he looked around, he saw the dark towers of a castle. Al jumped down from the tree, and as he grew closer, he heard some voices talking. Al peered around a tree trunk, and saw a large glowing rock. He did not see, however, anything that could be making the voices. As Al walked towards the rock, he felt something snag his ankle. Suddenly, Al felt himself jerked violently into the air. He was hanging, upside down, nearly ten feet up. “What a great way to start my quest.” said Al aloud.