(my NaNoWriMo)
As of right now I'm going to call this The Knights of Glore, i don't think the name will stick but I'm ok with that. Its going to be a fantasy novel that takes place kinda in the medieval times era, or something like that. I'm sure more ideas will come to me as i write. Oh and I'm also up for any suggestions that anyone might have, even something as small as maybe changing how a sentence is worded or wrong grammar, hell anything that helps works for me :). So enough talking this is what i have so far :)...:
Darkness covered the sky for as far as the eye could see.
Not a single star in the sky could pierce through the murky haze. All over the
land people stood outside their homes and watched as the sun disappeared behind
clouds thicker than oil. Everyone knew that war was upon them but none of them
knew how bad the world had grown over the years.
Sitting to the north
of the once great land was a massive castle made of pure black granite. The
spires seemed to scratch the sky with their height, and the halls could take
days to walk. Nothing seemed normal within the walls of the fortress. Walls
moved, halls disappeared, people went missing, and doors opened to nothing. But
within the castle one thing stayed constant, it wasn’t the steady stream of
people, or the fear that seemed to emanate from the very structure itself, but
instead was one solitary man who was forever bound to the stone the walls were
made of.
This one man was as normal as could be or at least he would
be if it wasn't for the power he possessed. No one knew how he came upon the
power he held over the land, they just knew it was dark. For as long as anyone
could remember he had always been there. Watching, waiting, and causing destruction
where he saw fit. Anyone who stood in his way perished at his hand. His word
was law, and to break those laws was to die.
Today was just like any other day, or at least it seemed
that way. Once again another person was brought to his feet by the Knights of
Glore. These knights were not like any other, they were made whole by the power
he wielded. They were nothing but armor, and a fiery glow behind a slit in their
black helmets. Air was of no use to them neither was food or water, they did
not sleep, and they followed orders better than any human could. Some called
them Spirit daemons, while others called them hells guards, but no matter what
they were called every person in the land was scared of them. To come across a
Knight of Glore was to visit death himself.
Crying could be heard coming from the corridor leading to
the Great Hall where he himself sat upon his throne. Metal clanked and screams
echoed along with the cries of a child. The main doors swung open with ease and
grace that seemed impossible for doors as tall as a house. Within seconds the
sounds grew louder and grated on everyone’s ears within the hall. A young woman
and her small child no older than 4 were escorted into the room much to the
annoyance of this powerful man. He knew any moment now the woman would start
begging but it wouldn't help her cause if anything he would make her death more
painful as punishment for his annoyance. Instead, much to his surprise it was
not the woman who screamed and cried but the child at her side.
This young woman was like nothing he had ever seen before;
she was the epitome of beautiful. Long golden hair flowed down her back to end
just below her hips, she wore a well fitted emerald gown with golden trim spun
by the hand of an elf, no slippers adorned her feet, or jewels her fingers.
These facts alone surprised the man into silence. A woman of her stature was
sure to have many slippers, and of course a pile of jewels to wear to the
finest ball. As he tried to calm himself and remember why she was here, he was
instead taken again by her eyes.
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