Alright, here is my story, or what i have of it so far, so please tell me what you think of it, quote any part of it that you think could be done better with suggestions under it. I am great-full for the help you guys can offer, now without very hindrance by me, here is what i have of my story:
Running down the slick, slimy streets that the pouring rain had caused, Corin saw the familiar alleyway he’d used a couple of years ago when he left home. As he ran, he turned towards the alley. He skidded on the cobblestones that made up the streets, almost slamming his side into a wall. Once he believed he was safe, he leaned against the back wall of his house, under a derelict window, resting. He then heard the voice of one of his pursuers, “Over here, he went this way!”
Corin’s fear was visible with his eyes widening, and his heart rate increasing dramatically. Frantically, he started thinking about what to do next. He forced his fears to the back of his mind, pushed his wet brown hair back from his forehead, and revealing bright emerald green eyes, he turned around to face the wall. Corin then started the unlocking sequence to the hidden passageway that lead underneath his house. He remembered the pattern as if it were only yesterday he’d last used it. He pushed the three uneven bricks in the center until they clicked, then the two bricks above it popped out. He rotated them one turn clock-wise and pushed them back in, then finally the brick closest to the real wall was turned ninety degrees so its end was sticking out, unlocking the hidden door. He pushed the brick inward, causing the door to fall a few inches within the wall, into its hidden sliding component. He then dragged it to the left, opening it so he could easily enter. He stepped forward into the now visible passage, and turned around to shove the door shut. As he quickly closed the door, the people chasing him ran by; missing the faint clicking of the lock due to the sloshing of the rainwater, and the pounding of their own feet.
Corin sighed with relief as they passed, and walked down the dark passage using what little light came from his home on the other side. He walked to the end of the corridor, and quietly pushed open the door. He didn’t want to alert his parents that he was home. He slipped up the stairs as silently as possible and only a few familiar creaks sounded that would alert an observant person of his presence. He made it to the top of the steps, and turned to the hallway. The second door on the left was his bedroom, and upon entering, he found it hadn’t changed since he left almost two years ago. The bed was made with the red and black sheets he liked, and the red comforter was folded neatly back, revealing four pillows. There were two in red cases and two in black. His desk was organized, with his eight books in a neat stack. The smallest was on top, and the largest, a hard back volume on Arcanum lore, was on the bottom. He realized that they were from the Tryn’s Feasts and birthdays he missed, two for each. Corin was beginning to grow cold, and padded down the hall to the bathroom to find a towel to dry off with.
He shed his old, wet, filthy clothes and dropped them into the basket near the sink. As he toweled himself dry, he reflected upon all that had happened in the past few days. He’d returned to his birth-city, Dun-Tyrn, in the middle of the night and had inquired about open rooms. The guard in Dun-Tyrn wasn’t helpful, but let him pass nonetheless.
Corin spent the first night back in the city in the bell steeple near the town’s Gathering Centre. Nothing major happened the next day, but he bought some food and a drink at an Inn and stayed the night there. However, on the third day he awoke to guards banging on his door, demanding he answer it. He silently gathered his things and slipped out the window onto the streets. The guards broke open the door, and finding him gone, they hunted the streets. He ran, twisting and turning down the different alleyways. He stopped at a small café when he thought he was safe, and got some lunch. By the time he finished his meal it had started to rain. The guards had gotten close and were inquiring around. He left the amount of golden trillis he owed to the café on the table he was seated at, and then left through a side door. He ran towards his house, and when he heard the over-used, and over-clichéd “Halt! In the name of the law!” from the guards who were chasing him, he went faster. He ran from the door to the alleyways that were starting to get soaked from the torrential down pour that was starting. He slipped and slid a few times trying to gain purchase and race ahead of the guards.
He was jolted out of his memories by a creak on the stairs, and tossed his towel into the basket with his clothes. When his parents left, he could shower, but for now at least he was dry. Before he left the bathroom, he glanced into the mirror and saw a face that was familiar but different all at once. It was more full, but gaunt at the same time. He still had his long hair, which was almost black because of the dampness. His eyes followed his hair down to his neck, which was longer than it used to be, and followed the contours from his neck to his shoulders, which were wider than he remembered. He realized that he had become leaner, from living on the streets for two years. He had traveled all parts of the country, from the water-ways of Den-Trine, to the nomadic tribes of the Ran-Tir plains. He had worked odd jobs all through the country to survive, most days he worked for a small meal and a warm place to sleep.
After he finished dressing in his under-leggings, and socks, he snuck from the bathroom, back into his room. He eased the door open, coaxing it to stay quiet, and he slipped in as easily as he had the first time. He walked to his dresser and picked out a plain black shirt, and pair of dark pants, and put both on. He then walked over to his closet and opened it to grab his favorite pair of boots, a pair of soft black leather boots that had a fine-fur lining, and a very fine, almost non-existent, fur on the bottom to silence his steps when he walked about. After he laced up his boots, he looked in the closet one last time and grabbed his favorite coat, a black leather duster with a tawny fur mantle that made his shoulders look even broader.
As he pulled it out, he noticed that his father’s sword was wrapped on the same hanger. He took his coat off of the hanger and laid it on the bed, and then he unraveled the sword sheath’s belt from the hanger. As the sword dropped into his waiting hand, a small piece of paper fell out. Upon picking it up, Corin realized it was in his father’s handwriting. He read the note, which said “To my son, the only person possible to protect this world.” Corin thought to himself, “What does he mean? ‘The only person possible to protect this world’….that’s not like him…”
He shook it off, picked up the sword and walked towards the door, shutting it as silently as possible. He stalked towards the end of the hall and to the stairway, when he saw the light in the kitchen turn on and heard someone opening the door to the refrigerator. After about thirty seconds, he heard the fridge door shut and then saw the lights in the kitchen shut off, and the light in the stairwell turn on, he saw his mom look up and catch a glimpse of him, but he hid as quickly as he could, so he wouldn’t be seen.
His mom dropped the cup she was holding, it clinked against the ground, but did not break. She sank to her knees and started sobbing and asked “Is it you? Corin, are you finally home?”
He leaned back against the wall, letting his head hit the wall. He sighed, and took a deep breath and slid around the corner to stand at the top of the stairs facing his mom and said, “I’m Home” and walked down half of the stairs.
His mom burst into tears as he ran down the stairs and sat next to his mother and wrapped his arms around her, “It’s alright,” he said calmly, “Let’s go to the living room.” He stood up, and helped his mom to her feet, and walked with her out to the living room.
She stood in the living room in front of the hearth sobbing, and said “So much has happened since you left, your father is gone, and there is just so much to tell you.” She walked over to the couch and sat down.
Corin looked confused and asked, “He’s gone? How? What happened?” He forced himself to calm down and took a deep breath to clear his head and continued “Do you mean that he’s dead?”
Before Corin had the chance to continue, his mom said, “No, he’s alive, but he disappeared a few days after you left the house, he seemed frantic, like he was trying to hide something.”
He shook his head in disbelief, “Do you know about anything that happened? Dad was never the kind of man to go frantic about something, or being secretive.”
His mom shook her head slowly, and started shaking lightly from the memory of what had happened. She put her arms in her lap with her hands hanging in the middle, and sighed deeply.
She started sobbing gently as she recalled the memory, “A few nights after you left, he locked himself in his den, only coming out to use the restroom and to eat. Whenever he came out for something beside one of those things he seemed scared, and was always looking over his shoulder as if he were being followed.”
Corin took this chance to interrupt and asked, “Do you know why his sword was in my closet? With this strange note attached to it? What would dad be running from, or what would cause him to be so frantic?”
His mom continued as if the questions he asked were never spoken, “About a week after you left, the city’s guards came to our house in the dead of the night, while he was working in his den and I asleep. They busted in the front door, causing me to wake, and I went to see what the commotion was about. I was ushered back into my room by one of the guards and held prisoner in my own room while they were here…it…it was horrible.” She started crying harder making Corin worry even more about her.
“That’s horrible,” He said, “Being held prisoner in your own room by the people who are supposed to be protecting you; did they give you a reason as to why they did that?”
His mom looked up at him with her tear laden eyes, “Yes, they did.” She said in a calm, quiet voice, “But it was a vague one, they had said he was part of some illegal plot, but wouldn’t say more than that.”
Corin wondered what it was and asked, “Mom, would this note have anything to do with it? Also, would the book on Arcanum Lore have anything to do with it?” He handed her the note for her to read after asking.
Her face paled. She started shaking worse as she replied, “Yes, I believe it was, he said something about this the day before he disappeared.” She sighed heavily, trying to get her emotions under control. “He had said something about giving you a book early that morning, but never said which one or why. I thought Roderick, your father, had taken his sword with him, but apparently he had hid it in your closet for some reason….I wonder what for…” His mom seemed lost in thought and didn’t continue her story.
As Corin worked over everything in his mind, ‘I wonder what’s going to happen…’ he thought to himself. He slowly stood up and walked with his mom to her room. After she was lying in bed, he decided to stay the night, since the rain had picked up again. Corin walked silently to his room and removed the sword from its place on his shoulder, and took off his coat, and boots. He walked over to his bed and lied down on it, thinking of what is to come for him, and his family.
As Corin lied in bed, he thought about what the note his father left him meant, ‘To my son, the only person possible to protect this world.’ He knew his father wasn’t one to believe in prophecies or what the prophets said. He wanted to believe that his father was trying to pull something on him, but deep down knew that he wasn’t. Corin shook the thoughts from his head and let his mind wander, and drift off to sleep. He slept heavily that night, with thoughts about what was to come interfering with his dreams.
Corin knew he was dreaming when he woke up in a field surrounded by the guards that were chasing him, he knew he had to fight back, so he tried to draw the sword from its scabbard, but failed. He let his instincts take over as the first guard, the one from the center of the group leaped at him with his mace ready to attack. Corin jumped up into the air, his feet level with the man’s face; he spun, his foot connecting with the man’s jaw. The guard flew backwards knocking one of his comrades down. Two guards charged at him this time, one brandishing a large staff, the other using a set of tonfa. The one with the staff swung down at Corin, he dodged, making the staff slam into the ground, creating a resounding crack in the air. He used the staff as a step to kick the guard in the chest, which he then used as a foot hold to jump from. The guard with the tonfa, a set of two elbow-length blades, slowly backed away but knew he was next, so he stopped and raised his guard. Corin aimed for the man’s stomach, his one open spot and struck home, knocking the wind from his target and forcing him down to the ground. Then only one guard remained, he was wielding a great sword, he stood away from Corin, slowly circling, analyzing him. Corin pulled the sword off of his back and willed the sword from its scabbard. It came out, slowly with the sound of steel scraping softly against the oiled leather of its casing. He dropped the sheath on the ground, and started circling his one remaining enemy, who decided it was time to attack. He struck with a blow from up high; Corin blocked it by holding his sword in a defensive stance. He then slid his sword, steal scraping on steel; he then twisted the swords forcing his opponents blade from his hands. Corin turned his weapon until the broadside was vertical and slammed it into the side of the man’s head, staggering him. Corin rushed him, getting inside of his opponent’s guard and slammed the pommel of his sword into his head, rendering him unconscious before he hit the round with a loud thump.
Somebody started clapping; he was in a black cloak, with a black mask on, “Very good,” He said in an ominous voice, making Corin draw up his guard, “Do not worry young warrior, this is only a shadow of the peril on your journey, now when no one is left, be prepared for anything and trust your instincts.”
Corin looked at him and inquired, “Who are you? What are you trying to tell me? How are you in my dream?”
The masked figure laughed “Ah, so you know you are dreaming, know this my identity will be revealed later on, and as to how I am here, that is none of your concern, now leave here and awaken, danger approaches”
The mysterious figure walked up to Corin and pushed him backwards and caused him to fall. As he was falling Corin let the darkness around him smother him and take him. The next thing Corin heard was the breaking of a door and loud shouts. He opened his eyes and sat up, cracking his neck and knuckles. He stood up and slid silently out of bed and walked over to the chair he threw his duster over. He picked it up and shrugged it on, also strapping the sword to his back, preparing for the inevitable fight.
Walking over to where he dropped his boots the night before, he slipped them on, and being sure they were tightly tied, so they wouldn’t trip him up. Corin padded lightly over to the door, and quietly listened through it. Deciding that nothing bad was going to happen, he opened his door. Then all hell broke loose. The guards that were chasing him busted the front door down, and started searching his house.
“Anything I can help you with sirs?” He said as he casually walked to the railing on the top of the stairs, “Seems to me your ransacking my home for something that may just not be here….ever think of that?”
The guard closest to the stairs stopped and looked up at him and said, “Is your name Corin?”
“Yeah, what if I am? What of it” he replied tensely. Readying himself for the fight or flight moment that was about to cause.
“We need to ask you to come with us nice and calmly, or are we going to have to use force to apprehend you?”
“Well now kind sirs,” He replied with an air of confidence, “You woke me up from my slumber, and I don’t like being woken up. So I guess I’m going to have to make this hard on you, plus it will help wake me up more.”
The guard looked up at him with an air of seriousness and laughed, “You think you can make this hard on us? You’re a weakling, don’t make me laugh any harder than I already am Corin, just come quietly and nobody gets hurt.”
“You truly think you’re frightening don’t you?” Corin questioned the guard as he walked down the stairs menacingly, “Just try and catch me!”
He leaped from the second to last step and slammed his feet into the guard’s chest, knocking him down. Corin then ran from the guard he just knocked down and kicked the guard that was standing in front of the door to the living room in the stomach, making him double over in pain. He took the sword from around his shoulder and slammed the flat of the blade, while it was still in the sheath on the back of the man, causing him to topple over in an unconscious heap. Not being completely careful about it, Corin jumped over the man, and barreled towards the guard standing in the middle of the living room, looking confused and dumbfounded.
“How are you going to do this?” Corin said calmly, “you just going to leave my house peacefully, or should I cause you to black out then throw you into the street?”
The guard looked beyond Corin, surveying the damage he had caused and backed away slowly.
“
I’m just doing my job Corin, you know that, it can’t be helped,” He raised his staff and swung it at Corin’s head. The next thing he knew Corin was seeing stars then he let the darkness take him over.
When he awakened he realized he was in the field of the dream again, but with a stump sitting in the middle, occupied by the mysterious man from before.
“I did not think you would return here quite so soon my young friend,” He said jokingly.
“Who are you?” Corin asked angrily, “Why are you in my head, my dream? And most important of all who are you?” He began pacing back and forth across the small field he was in.
“Corin, I can answer neither of those yet. You already know who I am, and you also know why I am here, so why do you keep asking those odd questions?” He stood up and walked towards Corin slowly and continued, “You know I think I may be wrong about something here, but tell me, do you truly not recognize my voice anymore? Has it truly been that long?”
Corin looked at the man with skepticism, “Why would I know you? I haven’t seen any of my friends for the past two years, and didn’t make any on the journey I started two years ago. That ended tonight, for I am now captured by this new city guard. So I am stuck now, unless you’ve anything helpful to say leave me alone.”
The man stopped Corin from his pacing, “Well the new city guard started roughly a year after you left, and they have been searching for you for the past quarter year..”
(part 1 ends/part 2 starts here, kept it this way for easier workings to go on)
“But why me?” Corin asked, as he slowly processed this new information.
“Now, THAT is something I can answer,” The Hooded man said with a smile on his face, “You see Corin, your father left the answer in your possession, and I’m pretty sure you know what it is, though he never said what it was. He had also said that you would know what it is, when the time is right of course.
Corin sighed deeply as he say on the stump, letting the new pieces to this mad puzzle fall into place, contemplating what he should do next. “Alright, Let me get this straight,” He said slowly, making sure not to slip up his wording, “You are a ‘Friend’ of mine, and yet you are working with my father, who wants me captured and taken to him. You, my friend, are one confusing enigma.” He shook his head trying to relieve the coming headache.
The figure laughed, and as he walked over to Corin he became serious once again. “I will always be loyal to you, my friend, the only reason I am working with your father is to keep you safe from harm. Your father is not the man he once was. I must leave now, and so do you, but do not worry I will stay in contact with you.” The figure turned around after finishing what he said and vanished before Corin could ask him anymore questions.
“Great, just great, here I thought I would get more answers.” He mumbled to himself as the dream faded causing Corin to fall into the growing darkness, allowing it to swallow, envelope him in its warm embrace.
He woke with a splitting headache on a cold, damp floor, in a small room that smelled of disuse, and mold. As Corin sat up, and took measure of his surroundings his stomach dropped. He realized he was in a small cell, with only a bed in a corner with a light fleece blanket on it. There was no place for him to hide, no place to run. He was truly stuck, cold and alone in this barely lit room. Corin stood slowly, making sure as to not make the pounding in his head any worse. “Hey!” He called out of the steel door in his room, “There any way I could get some water to drink? I’ve got one hell of a migraine because some idiot must have thrown me on the floor in here. And speaking of which; where the hell am I?” He hit the door, with a dual effect, worsening his headache, and alerting the guard that he was awake.
Corin cringed every time he beat on the door, wondering where the guard was sauntering off too. After the guard was out of view Corin searched the room more thoroughly. He noticed the bed was not attached to the floor, like in other cells he saw in his time traveling. The basin that held the water was not attached to the floor, again like the bed it was just standing there.
