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dima124
January 16th, 2002, 12:00 PM
Last Ring of Power.


The Novel.


Prelude.

Boy watched the fighters from the safety of the gutter. City

guards circled nine remaining fighters loyal to Fat Maxud and were

compressing the circle, ringing steel against steel and flinging curses

at their enemies. Soon the battle was over. Guards collected weapons

left on the bloody ground and went away carrying two of their number

fallen in the battle. People caught in the open during the skirmish were

still reluctant to approach the scene, so the boy was able to exit the

gutter and take a look at the bodies of fallen undisturbed by big and

strong adults. He pocketed a few coins missed by the guards and was

about to leave, when something shiny drew his attention. Fat Maxud

was lying face down in the dirt. His right hand was cut off just above

the elbow. The severed hand was right next to his head. There was a

ring on one of the fingers. For some reason the guards missed the ring,

and now the boy swooped down like a hawk and grabbed the hand.

He was about to pull off the ring, when someone roughly grabbed him

and turned him around. Large stinky beggar slapped him across the

face.

“Give me the ring, you little rat” – he growled expelling a wave of foul

stench .

Boy was terrified, but he was in the right. Whatever belonged to

criminals now belonged to him, since he was first person on the scene.

However the filthy beggar seemed to disagree . Blood spouting from his

cut lip, the boy bit the beggar’s hand, hard enough to pierce the

skin and taste the rotting flesh beneath. The beggar screamed in pain

and let go for a moment. A moment was all the boy needed. He ran like

the wind and his pursuer was quickly lost in the maze of city alleys.

Only when he was able to stop and catch his breath, did the boy

notice that Fat Maxud’s hand was gone. Even stranger, the ring that

once belonged to famous criminal now resided on the boy’s finger. He

could have sworn that he never even got a chance to pull the ring off,

much less to put it on his own finger. And another thing, Fat

Maxud’s fingers were large and swollen, while boy’s fingers were small

and thin. Despite all this the ring seemed to fit his finger snugly

enough to make him somehow wonder if it was made with his finger in mind.

That night the boy came home a winner. He handed his

mother four coins scavenged at the fight scene. Four coins would feed

and house their family for a month. His mother wept and hugged the

boy. He kept his right hand in the pocket the whole time. If his

mother saw the ring, she would never let him keep it. And it was his

ring. His by right.

Chapter 1.


Boy was dreaming. In his dream he was running through

the ancient looking forest all alone with no idea how he got there. He

never visited a place like this forest before, not even in dreams. In all

seven years of his life he never ever left the city , not even for a day.

Evil creatures roamed the countryside, said the priests and guards, evil

creatures who were after the children. Older kids sometimes

whispered that rather than evil creatures of myth, rebels were

encroaching ever closer to city borders. One day they would breach

the city walls and kill all guards and have their way with all pretty

maidens living in the city. Boy did not believe them. He preferred to

believe that blood hungry gnomes hid under old bridges, trolls roamed

through the mountains in the West, elves played tricks on hunters

and wood gatherers, and grimelin… Boy preferred to not think

of grimelin. Grimelin always knew when someone thought about them

and would come after them curious late at night…Mighty trees

embraced each other high above his head stealing the sunlight and

plunging the forest floor in gloom.

Llama
January 16th, 2002, 12:24 PM
I think how maybe you should move this to WRITING.

Erebus
January 16th, 2002, 01:26 PM
Dima, thanks for your post, but stuff like this should be referred to in the Writing section, and as we have reminded others, we actually have a Short Story section at SFF where we prefer you to submit your original works to, rather than clogging the discussions boards with really long posts! http://www.sffworld.com/ubb/smile.gif

Thanks for understanding - this topic will now be moved to the Writing Section.

[This message has been edited by erebus (edited January 16, 2002).]