A little piece of a story I am writing submitted for your reviews :)

Wardden

The Creation of A Weretiger

 

                  Both my parents were adventures my mother Ahlana was strong of arms and even more gifted in druidic magic. My father Gilbert was a city man, skilled in separating people from their property. When my mother’s band “The Wooden Hand” stopped in his hometown, the story goes it was love at first site. When they left for a foray into the surrounding jungle to investigate mysterious disappearances in local villages, my father went with them.

                  Less than three seasons later they were married and three seasons after that I was born. The love of adventure and nature didn’t allow my folks to seek a quieter life even with a child to worry for. I grew up you could say with a whole troupe of mothers and fathers, and I seemed destined to one day ride to war next to these men and women who server as shining examples of how a few could make a difference in the lives of many.

                  Every day I grew stronger, receiving a diverse education, the rudimentary thieving arts from my father, basic tutoring in druidic lore from my mother, and combat training from Edric the knight whom led our small band. When things were deemed to dangerous for me I often spent time under the watchful eye of the old cleric of Solaran Gretchen, listening to stories of the miracles she had witnesses and performed in the service of her goddess. Finally, at the age of 16, as my druidic powers began to manifest, I began to accompany the band on its adventures. After two seasons of successful campaigns we found ourselves wintering in the city of my fathers birth. Again tales of mysterious disappearances flowed freely in the streets and eventually the band, despite the cold and harsh weather decided to venture out and investigate these claims once more.

                  Two days out of town, just as night began to fall, we arrived at the village the rumors had spoken off. We found the village deserted but there was no sign that a battle had taken place. Taking up residence in the small inn near the center of the village we began to discuss our plan of action for the morrow. We drew lots for watches; my mother and father took their place as first watch. In a cozy bed up stairs I lay down to get some rest, and drifted off to sleep. Only to be awakened sometime later to shouts of “ To arms, to arms”. I leaped from my bed and grabbed my cudgel and shield cast Shillelagh my most potent spell at the time on my weapon.

                  I bounded down the stairs just in time to see what appeared to be huge tiger walking on two legs bust threw the door, shattering it with one mighty blow. In his hands was the broken body of my mother, pouring in behind him came three giants tiger. By now the whole band was awake and ready to resist but to our shock the three cats all the sudden began to grow into half-human, half-tiger monstrosities.

                  With bestial roars the man-tigers through themselves at the band, ripping and tearing, while seeming to shrug of all but the fiercest blows. With a guttural cry I threw myself at the beast holding my mother body, with contempt clearly evident the creature threw down my mother’s body and grabbed me by my throat. Through tear filled eyes I rained ineffective blows on his head and shoulder as he lifted me up in front of him. He quickly bit down on my shoulder ripping skin and crushing bone, then casually tossed me to the side. The pain was so intense I couldn’t even form a thought, but after a while it was replaced by a cold so numbing that some rational part of me new I was not long for this world. In my sudden clarity all around me I could see my friends being slaughtered. Just as the cold became almost unbearable Gretchen one arm hanging uselessly at her side, shining silver robe covered in red blood broke away from the wild melee and ran to me. With a shout of “Solaran please aid me” she reached my side and throwing her one good hand on my chest spoke and single word and the world turned black.

                 

                  So time later I awoke in a lavishly furnished room, all silk and marble. With a start I recalled what had occurred and began first calling, and eventually screaming for anyone who could hear me to come and tell me what had happened, to tell me where I was. Gingerly, I tried to stand and found myself falling to the floor, and again everything went black.

 

                  When I woke again, a young man dressed in silver robes similar to Gretchen sat next to my bed. He introduced himself as Allan and set about explaining how Gretchen had used a spell when everything looked bleak to whisk us away from the danger to the safety of Solarans’ Temple back in town. While I was sleeping a call had gone out and many adventurers had answered it, sending a virtual army back to the village we had been attacked in.

                  The inn was torn up, but all of the bodies had been taken. The best trackers and all magical avenues had come up empty in their search for the attackers. Then came the worse news off all, after bringing us here to safety Gretchen had succumbed to her grievous wounds and now sat at the side of Solaran. In an instance all that I had known or loved had been taken from me I was alone and penniless, my brothers and sisters in arms, and my mother and father, all stolen from me. It was too much; thankfully the darkness swallowed me again.

                  A tingle from head to toe brought me awake. I opened my eyes to see the moon shining bright and full through my window. The tingle grew stronger, then pain, pain as I had never felt before started in my shoulder where I had been bit and spread like wildfire all through my body. With a crack my bones pulled apart and reshaped, I had a long snout now and fur was erupting all over my body. I raised my head to scream and instead a load roar issued forth from my mouth. Footsteps on the stairs, I didn’t know how but If heard footsteps on the stairs. Hunger I felt and overwhelming hunger. I raced to the window and leapt. I hit the ground running and didn’t stop running until.

                  I woke up naked the next morning except for the tattered remain of what had been a nice pair of sleeping trunks. They say most changlings cannot remember what they do in their other form, I wish this was true, I could still taste the blood on my tongue, feel the flesh being torn apart between my teeth. My hair was saturated with the blood of some poor farmer cattle. I thought my self a damned thing a creature destined to end up like the monsters who made turned me into this thing I had become. I wandered through the forest naked, no longer seeing the splendor around me, as I usually would have but instead seeing a picture in my head of my teeth tearing apart my mother, father, Gretchen, and the others. A retched thing I had become, suddenly bursting into motion, running as swiftly as my temporally human legs could carry me. Reaching the cliff face I jumped, the wind rushed around me, I smiled as the ground rushed towards me. Release I thought as I hit, Release.

                  I dreamed, before me was all my friends, my comrades, my mother and father, and they danced and reveled. Making merry in what could only be the realm of some god of good on this land. I felt joy and tears flowed down my cheeks as I wept not for their loss but for my own. For surely a monster such as myself would never be welcomed here and when they noticed me I would be shunned and hated. I turned eager to leave before I was noticed before they could bring their hate filled gazes to bear on me.

                  Turning I bumped into a women standing behind me, she gazed at me and instead of the expected hatred, compassion and love filled her eyes. Gently, she bent forward at the waste and without a conscious thought I sank to my knees. Lightly, she brushed her lips against my shoulder and the angry scar disappeared replaced by a slight imprint of two lips. ”Who is this woman who can love a monster such as me” the thought raced through my head as she placed a necklace of thorns around my neck. She brushed past me gently heading yonder to where the revelry was still going strong.

                  The pricking of thorns brought me from my dreams, and I immediately grasped the necklace around my still naked form. Delighting in the pain the thorns brought my still human flesh. I lay at the bottom of the cliff I had thrown myself off. I stood and walked into the woods, again feeling the peace I had always found in the caress of the wind and the branches. I walked content in myself, knowing the person I had become under the tutelage of those loved ones now lost to me, could combat this evil with in me. The fates had chosen to give me the powers of a monster but no one could make me act like one.

 

                                                                                             Excerpt from   the Chronicles of the Druid Wardden

 

 

Copyright 10/01/07 by P. D. Thomas

 

Dekron

The writing is O.K.. The story, in all honesty, is very cliched. It's not a flame and I am not saying it is horrible - just that it is, well, cliched and very predictable.

cornoffcob

I think you really need to edit that before submitting it into anything, or just for the hell of it.  I read the first paragraph and there were at least 5 grammatical errors in it.  Just glancing through out the story I notice some also.  Giving the whole story a second look, changing punctuation, spelling errors, and awkward phrasing would be a good start. There's my two cents.

Laserwolf

I spot the same problems I seem incapable of overcoming. The writing is way too flowery and the big one, at least for me, is that there is not enough substance or filler. Every good book I have ever read can go on for pages and pages while describing a single conversation, or a single thought. I have no idea how the hell authors can do this, but without stretching everything out, you are barely writing a summary.