I am new here, and this is my first post, so... HI!
Anyway, I've started writing this story based on ideas that have come to my head and my drawings. I'm currently on the 1st chapter, and I want some tips on my prologues, posted below.
The story is about a village located in a valley and black, human-like characters emerge and attack. Its set in a lord-of-the-rings type fantasy area, but with modern day stuff such as guns, etc.
Here it is, and thanks:
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Prologue 1
The Land of Ferrow was situated in an excessively sensitive climate. The summers were fierce and the winters were brutal. Snow fell thick and heavy during the annual fortnight snow-storm, where, day by day, colossal grey clouds rolled over the region, releasing the perfectly formed ice crystals that slowly drifted down to earth. It was not unusual to encounter areas where eleven to fifteen inches of snow would pile up, and those unfortunate enough to be caught in these blizzards usually had their corpses preserved for weeks on end until the ice had melted and their now-soft body easy to decay and rot. The people called this event 'The Weeks of the Grey Plague'. Walking outside in this Winter Storm would render one practically blind; the sun's light would hit the snow clouds, causing a flood of dull, grey light to create an illusion of fog ' but even then there would be a downpour of snow to look through.
However, a fortnight later, the clouds would have passed and the sun's light would pierce through the ice and snow. Clear blue skies would allow the sun to shine down an incredible blanket of warmth as marvellous as that of the summers, whilst the debris of the storm emitted a cool & refreshing frosty atmosphere.
Days of shovelling, snowmen and inhaling fresh air followed ' the general dreary depression of the past few weeks gave way to a bright, cheerful, optimistic frame of mind towards the spring to come. Where two weeks had dispensed the snow, one week would remove it, and it is in the middle of this week that the patrols are once more enforced and carried out. For this is a world where the knowledge of far distant cities may well be rural myth and man lives in fear of beats.
Ferrow was a relatively small area of terrene, spanning an area of nearly 50,000 kilometres, nestled between the lands of Niebsan and Valsea, two vast expanses of land more than twice the size of Ferrow. Over the past years, exporting and importing foreign goods increased thanks to Ferrow's coastal regions and the great River Kaii running straight through it, allowing distribution and collection of materials easier. Ferrow was a country experiencing the early stages of trading with foreign kingdoms and lands.
There were many forests in the land of Ferrow, and one such was the Woak forest, deep inside Ferrow's borders.
Pine trees towered above the animals that dwelled below. Deer were a common sight, bears clumsily wobbled through the rivers and even Leopards had evolved to suit the unforgiving climate. However, the greatest threat were not of such animals. Even the Leopards themselves were cautious in this land, aware that there were packs of creatures that crept through the land at night, constantly on the move, with one intention ' to kill. These were not humans. They were far more unforgiving than the race of men were. They were far more lethal, far more deadly and when in large numbers, far more powerful. Many villages had been destroyed at their hands, the total number of dead unknown, but still rising. These were the Dräiis. A race that had only in the last couple of hundred years emerged from an unknown place and scattered across the known world.
The communities of humans and nonhumans alike may have survived another winter storm, but now they were facing another threat that could arrive at any time of the year.
Prologue 2
The wheat fields were right next to the grand pine trees of the Woak forest, a mere nettled bush barrier separated the woods from the vast expanse of ploughed fields that gave way to a glorious spread of shimmering, gold crops that swayed in the summer breeze. Further ahead, the fields rose up as a hill, and passed that, a cliff-drop into the Valley of Gwoud. This was a united village, where all worked together to produce food, clothing and any other needs together ' a place where the community was basically family to one another.
Saemon lay down in the evening sunshine, surrounded by wheat straw. He had finished the day's ploughing with his father, who had gone on back to Gwoud with the two Oxen. The sky was slowly turning orange and far off in the distance, a blood red stretch of colour shone over the white clouds that began glistening pink. Aged eight, Saemon was surprisingly mature for his age. Rather than complaining of tiresome work, he pressed on with it ' volunteering for jobs that would require the adults to risk a broken back or simply the daunting task of messenger-boy, running across the fields to the village, along with his faithful Bloodhound at his side.
It had been a particularly tedious day. The sun had showed no mercy in holding back its heat. Still looking up at the sky, Saemon removed a slice of bread from his leather pouch.
'I can't believe there was no spare cheese.' Saemon took a bite. 'Or pickle.'
Munching on the brown bread, he felt something press against his clothing. Turning round, he saw his dog drag a paw down his brown shirt and whimper.
'If you're expecting chicken, tough luck.' Tearing off a piece of bread, he placed it into the dogs mouth, which instantly started chewing and inhaling shallow breaths at the same time. 'Mind my fingers, Willow, would yah?'
Wiping the saliva on his shirt, Saemon continued staring up at the world drifting by. Flocks of birds flew overhead and chirped as the wind rustled through their feathers. His short, blonde hair reflecting the bronze shimmer of the wheat, the young boy focused on the birds calls above, whilst Willow licked his teeth and looked through the straw, watching the area around them both.
'They aren't geese, I know that...' Saemon said to Willow. 'I wish I knew what they were. I know dad would.' Tearing off another piece of bread, he passed the rest to Willow and swallowed the small bit of bread.
'Stew tonight, so I should save some room,' he reported and listened to Willow noisily consuming the food. 'Patrol should arrive soon.'
A single, small white cloud passed over, a cotton island in a sea of colour.
'No reports so far this year, though, which is good.' Saemon's dyed blue trousers were sparkled with dirt from the work of the day, and stretching them out, he emitted a deep yawn. Willow, in turn, opened its mouth wide and stretched out its tongue. 'No sightings of Demons, either.'
Reaching into his shirt, he drew out a simple thread-necklace with a piece of flint attached.
'Hard to believe how a great animal like a deer would be turned into a demon by this thing.' Inspecting it, he rubbed his fingers along its sharp edges. 'It's an honour to have it.'
Willow suddenly turned its head behind Saemon.
'The Animal Gods of the forest can also meet the same fate, too. It's like what grandpa used to say...'
Willow got to its feet whilst Saemon closed his eyes, reliving memories.
'... in one of his legends about how a brave knight would go and save the Wolf God from turning into a Demon himself-'
Saemon opened his eyes and looked at Willow who had started growling.
'Willow?' He looked out in the direction where Willow was staring. 'What is it, boy?
Saemon reached for his sheathe and drew out a dagger.
A rustling sound came from the wheat further back.
'Probably a rabbit... Fancy rabbit stew tomorrow, boy?' Saemon got to his feet.
Willow's growl grew louder.
'Quit growling, you'll scare it off, alright?' Saemon whispered.
Willow then took a step forward and gave a loud bark.
'WILLOW!' Saemon hissed, 'SHU-'
From within the straw came a chortled moan, the croaky soreness of a frog's song, the shrill purr of a leopard and the rough growl of a great bear.
Saemon's eyes widened. Slowly, he took a step back and raised his dagger.
Willow gave another bark.
The reply was a series of sharp, deafening shouts, bearing much similarity to the squarking of a crow:
'Cwragh! Cwargh! Crwagh!'
Willow immediately trotted behind Saemon's feet that held up his shivering body.
Another sound of rustling occurred and something flashed within the wheat. It was something black and shimmered like wet leather.
Saemon's jaw rattled ' his body was frozen still. The black thing was getting nearer, the sounds of it brushing against the straw was getting louder, and the footsteps were getting nearer.
'Move Saemon... Move...' The frightened eight year old boy whispered to himself through gritted teeth.
'Cwargh! Cwragh!'
Those shouts were getting louder and the thing was drawing nearer.
'Why aren't you moving?'
The creature gave another shrill shriek, only this time louder, like a cry of warning.
Saemon's body continued to shiver violently.
'Please... Please go away....' He winced as he saw a glimpse of an arm through the straw for a brief second.
'Mum... Dad....' Saemon sniffed, a tear dripping down his young face.
Willow then let out a tremendous bark, Saemon twirled round and sprinted off in the opposite direction, Willow right at his heels.
Over the huffing, the rustling and the loud footsteps, Saemon could hear the roars of the creature behind him, it's source too near for comfort.
'RUN, WILLOW, COME ON!' Saemon cried and fumbled with his left trouser pocket, eventually drawing out a wooden whistle.
Inhaling deeply, he blew into the device, emitting an ear-piercing noise that spread across the fields, over the hill and hopefully enter the Valley.
Saemon gave it three long, loud blasts, then dared to look behind. He saw the straw that he had run through was bent over and wobbling side to side, and not far off, the black creature was giving chase.
Giving a whimper of fear, Saemon sprinted as fast as his little legs could carry him.
'They ' Only come ' out at night....' Saemon spluttered. 'Why are ' they out ' this early?'
A roar emitted from behind him.
Slowly, Saemon began to feel the intense burning of pain spread over his legs and chest.
'Just ' A bit ' Further...' Saemon looked at Willow who was stampeding ahead.
Sweating in the evening sun, the day's work caught up with him and he stumbled, landing face-first on the ground, his nose smashed against a stone.
He gave out a shriek of pain and turned over ' blood was spilt on the ground, his nose was badly broken.
Cuffing it with his right hand, he turned round. He had only just made it out of the fields and was now just below the rising of the hill.
Then he saw it ' the black creature leap into the sky, roaring its heart-stopping battle-cry. He didn't see much, only its outstretched silhouette, very similar to that of a human, only much more thin and as tall as he was. Saemon did not even have any time to blink whilst the creature leapt towards its prey on the ground before a shot rang out in the sky, and was sent flinging backwards into the wheat field.
Turning, Saemon saw his father holding one of the village's heavy rifles, a mixed group of farmers and patrol-men standing behind him with more weapons.
'It's down, it's down!' One of them yelled.
Saemon's father instantly raced over to him, whilst the others went towards where the black creature had fallen.
'Careful, it's not dead yet.'
Saemon's father looked at his son's bloodied face.
'Saemon, are you alright?'
More voices echoed in the background.
'It's looking at me!'
'Filthy beast!'
'It's only a young 'un of 'em.'
Saemon smiled as he looked at his father's worried and exhausted face. Blood seeping from his nose, confused and drunk with fatigue, his body went limp, his vision blacked out and the sounds of Willow's barking slowly faded away and went completely silent as a final gunshot echoed across the evening sky.
