The story of an adventurer named Quas

[Evilhumour]

It was a dark and stormy night. But then again, it seemed all adventures began on dark and stormy nights. All adventurers left in the middle of night to slay the evil monster in their lair. Of course, the hero was smart enough to be in disguise to avoid the evil monster’s henchmen, but always arrived very theatrically.

Quas really hated his current situation. The weather was terrible –he was sure that he was going to have a cold tomorrow- and despite being inside the carriage, he was still getting soaked by the rain. Still wondering if it would be easier to have walked, the carriage went over another bump, sending him upwards again. Muttering in a little pain, he rubbed his head.

“Coachman,” Quas muttered loudly. “How much farther is the village?”

The coachman, a rather old man, grunted from the weather and the youth he had picked up. Oh he had known why the youth wanted to go the village. He had to deal with impulsive youths seeking the same thing. He often joked to repay in full if they managed to do the impossible task. Not a single one had, for glaring reasons.

“Almost there lad.” He spat, forcing his horse to go faster. The faster he got to the village, the faster he got his coins and he got somewhere warm with enough ale to take away the chill of the night. “I also know what you plan lad.” He heard the lad gulp and shook his head. “I had to deal with lads seeking the same thing. They wish to become famous.” 

“Ye-yes, I know the stories.” The lad sighed, but not for the reason the coachman thought. “I was told them as I was to go asleep as a youth.”

“You’re a fool then lad.” He coughed. “I’ve seen enough boys seeking the same thing and fail.”

“I know what I seek and get what I want.” The lad said in anger, trying to prove he was not a fool. The coachman had head the same before.

“If you get what you seek lad, I’ll repay your coins.” He shivered, forcing his horse to reach the village at last. "I'll take you wherever you wish afterwards lad."

“Nay, I will be travelling on my own path afterwards.” The lad spoke harshly, stepping out. The lad was definitely an arrogant one. He was dressed in a long coat, with a hint of a blade sticking out from the side. He was also wearing a long farmer’s hat, which was very odd as the lads always wanted to show off their face to young women in the village. “But I will be taking my coins back once I am done.” He said, walking past the coachman, the horse acting up again.

“Whatever you say lad.” The coachman spoke to the lad for the last time.

[Zavier]

It was a dark and stormy night.

That's also the exact same first line that was in A Wrinkle in Time. (Which is an awesome book that you need to read if you haven't already.)

[Evilhumour]

It was a dark and stormy night.

That's also the exact same first line that was in A Wrinkle in Time. (Which is an awesome book that you need to read if you haven't already.)

I have read it before

[Stormkit]

This seems to be a good start to something. I'm interested to see where it might go. And now for criticism time. Just a header: I am not the for-all expert of writing stories so these aren't things you MUST do, only suggestions to think about.

While it is a good and even traditional story device to start a story by not telling the reader what's going on... you have a few lines at odd with this strategy. Things like "for glaring [obvious?] reasons" are lines usually put in because the reader knows so there's no need to explain. In this case the reader does NOT know and so the reasons are not glaring to anyone except the old man and maybe Quas as well. The mention at the start of how the old man likes to joke also feels at odds with later when he says the same thing with a shiver and in either case feels a bit repetitive when you say nearly the same thing twice.
Things such as "I also know..." give the implication he had just said something else he knows.  That particular spot may be better served by having a moment of silence before the old man abruptly brings it up. Some of this may only be style preference but some bears thinking of.

Also, if you'd like, I could write this in the way I would have written it so you can compare what I did differently.

[Evilhumour]

This seems to be a good start to something. I'm interested to see where it might go. And now for criticism time. Just a header: I am not the for-all expert of writing stories so these aren't things you MUST do, only suggestions to think about.

While it is a good and even traditional story device to start a story by not telling the reader what's going on... you have a few lines at odd with this strategy. Things like "for glaring [obvious?] reasons" are lines usually put in because the reader knows so there's no need to explain. In this case the reader does NOT know and so the reasons are not glaring to anyone except the old man and maybe Quas as well. The mention at the start of how the old man likes to joke also feels at odds with later when he says the same thing with a shiver and in either case feels a bit repetitive when you say nearly the same thing twice.
Things such as "I also know..." give the implication he had just said something else he knows.  That particular spot may be better served by having a moment of silence before the old man abruptly brings it up. Some of this may only be style preference but some bears thinking of.

Also, if you'd like, I could write this in the way I would have written it so you can compare what I did differently.

Sure thing Kit, go right ahead. I myself feel it is a bit rough, but unsure of exactly where.

[Stormkit]

It was a dark and stormy night. By anyone's account it was a miserable time to be out and even the animals had the better sense to remain in their dens. However adventurers were little known for common sense and it was traditional for adventures to begin on nights like these. Perhaps there was even a certain sense in it; the henchmen of evil monsters were no more alert on a night like this than any other person. By traveling when no one could see a nose in front of their face even if alert, a would-be hero could slip past them all while still arriving in time for a parade through the village before going to face the challenge and attempt to win their prize.

However, none of this would change the dreariness of traveling through weather so terrible. Quas, the latest of many night-traveling heroes was just as miserable as any others out this night would be. Even inside the coach he rode, the rain had managed to find him and he wondered if he wouldn't have been drier if he had not bothered to wear so much. As the carriage hit another bump, causing his head to hit the ceiling again, he wondered if it might not have been more convenient to have just walked. It would probably have been just as fast and it certainly couldn't be any wetter.

"Coachman,” Quas muttered loudly. “How much farther is the village?”

The coachman, a rather old man, grunted in barely heard reply to the lad he was taking. This wasn't the first young adventurer with head full of stories and visions of glory he had brought down this road. In all likelyhood he wouldn't be the last either. Always they insisted on traveling in some horrible condition or other at the dead of night and always at the end they went off to attempt an impossible task. As of yet, none had succeeded for well known reasons.

Instead of contemplating further, the old man spat to the side and replied, "Almost there lad." As if to prove his words true, he forced his horse to go faster. The sooner they reached the village, the sooner he'd get his payment and could stay somewhere warm with enough ale to take away the chill of the night. There was a stretch of silence filled with the heavy patter of rain and the howling of wind through trees before the old man spoke again, "I know what you plan lad."

Somewhere in the distance thunder rumbled as the lad gulped. The old man chuckled before continuing, "What, you thought you were the only one to travel here seeking the prize? You all come seeking the same thing. You all wish to become famous."

"Ye-yes, I know the stories." The lad sighed, though not for the reasons the coachman would assume. "I was told them every night when I went to sleep as a youth."
 
“You’re a fool then lad.” He coughed. “I’ve seen enough boys seeking the same thing and fail.”

“I know what I seek and get what I want.” The lad said in anger, trying to prove he was not a fool, but only reinforcing the old man's opinion. The coachman had head the same before. They pulled up to the village at last.

“Tell you what... If you get what you seek lad, I’ll repay your coins.” The old man told this to all those who traveled by his coach. It was a small joke of his that helped ease the dreariness of the rain and the mud and everything else. "Aye, and I'll take you wherever you wish afterwards as well."

“Nay, I will be travelling on my own path afterwards.” The lad spoke harshly, stepping out. The lad was definitely an arrogant one. He was dressed in a long coat, with a hint of a blade sticking out from the side. He was also wearing a long farmer’s hat, unusual as most of the questors liked to parade through the village and show their face to all the pretty young ladies. The lad pulled the brim of his hat even lower, "But I will be taking my coins back once I am done." He walked past the coachmen into the rain as the horse shied away nervously.

Well perhaps the hat was for the rain, though the coachman didn't know why anyone would bother at this point. Still, his horse was overworked and done for the night. It was time to get the horse to a stable and himself to an inn, far away from this messy business. As the lad walked away into the night, the old man watched him go and spoke to the night air, "Whatever you say lad."

He turned around and led his horse away, leaving the lad to walk to his fate. With luck he would never see the boy again. "And good riddance..." he muttered beneath the torrent.

[Evilhumour]

Wow, Stormkit, good work. Very good indeed.

[Stormkit]

Anyway, I hope that helps. In the meanwhile I look forward to part 2. ^.^

[Evilhumour]

hehe

[Evilhumour]

Whenever an adventurer arrived to slay the evil beast, the adventurer always slammed the door of the inn open and talked with scared locals. The adventurer would then learn of the location of the evil beast. Sometimes the adventurer meet a girl of the same age. She would then get captured by the evil beast, only to be rescued at the  last moment by the adventurer. They would then fall in love and live happily ever after.

Quas groaned loudly, pulling out his boot of the mud again. Muttering, he shook his foot free of the slurpy substance and continued moving up the steep hill. It was hard to find the location. He had to resort in finding a drunken man, who spouted numerous insane things before trying to rob him. Although, he did get lucky when that barmaid came to chase away the drunk before Quas took any action. A quick lie to the barmaid and he found the path to his goal.

It seemed that it was atop of the hill, away from the village and people. It did make sense as it was out of the way of young adventurers seeking fame and glory.

“They always were going there, seeking the fame up there. Some died and some left, broken. It depended on luck and the adventurer’s approach when they got there.” That’s what the barmaid said. She said that before trying to gain some coins by un barmaid talents. She was dressed more suited to gain the coins of a young traveler then to the needs of the bar as well.

Quas had pushed her away and marched off before she could try and get him inside. The quicker and less seen he was, the better it was for him.

Oh of course, it might have been wise to have waited ‘till morning, were the ground was steadier and less a thick mixture. -It was like walking through gruel!- But that would require going backwards and he needed to do this as quick as possible. Nearly tripping again, he leaned onto a trunk with a single arm and held down his hat with his other as he caught his breath. Glancing upwards, he forced himself upwards the hill.

“Achoo.” He winced, whipping his sleeve across his face. Now he had a cold. Great. His lower half was covered in mud, soaked to the bone and now had a cold.

In his anger, he stumbled a bit more then before. Blocking his fall with his shoulder, Quas managed to stop himself from falling into the mud completely. Growling from the horrible weather and thick mud, he looked up and saw it.

There it was, the place of the famous killer of the land and lands beyond. Grinning, he forced himself up and forwards. Walking towards the house of his target, Quas raised a fist and banged on the handmade wooden door.

“Go away!” The voice from inside the building shouted. 

Quas frowned and banged on the door again.

“I said leave!” The voice roared back.

Quas responded by banging harder. However, this time he spoke. “The weather is too harsh for me to retire to the village.”

“Yet it was good enough for ya to seek me out?” The voice was still loud, but it was closer then before. “I have seen many dumb ones before, but few as arrogant as you to try and play on me having mercy like this.”

“I do not seek what the other seek.” Quas spoke the truth.

“What do you seek then boy if it’s not for me to train you?” The door open by the hands of the famed Oinao.

Quas did his best not to freeze, but he did stumble a tad when he faced the man. “A truth and to fulfill an oath to myself.” He stared as hard as he could without looking into the other’s face. “That is all, and nothing more.”

Oinao looked over the mud stained lad with tired eyes. Sighing, he shrugged the boy inside. “Well come on in boy. The weather will be the death of ya and it would be hard to dig a grave in the morning.”

Quas, holding back a grin, walked in the small house. It was a normal cottage, in all respects, excluding the-

“I see you admiring me trophies boy.” The old man laughed, with his back to Quas. The old man patted the head of a beast, a red scale dragon in mid roar. “The villagers always asked for head, but they always had a man to stuff it for me.” Chuckling, he widen his arms to heads of the beasts he had slain over the years. “I made good coin over the years on these beasts.” He grinned, looking at the boy, who had closed the door behind him, dripping water on the floor.

“What of that one over there, old man?” Quas walked over slowly,  arms falling to the side with his hat covering his face.

“This one?” Oinao patted the scaled head. “Ah yes, this beasty was my easiest kill!” He laughed, picking up the trophy head off the wall. It was the head of a male slyan, with the hard fin-like skin on the top being one of the two clear indicators of such a creature. “The damn monster was-” Oinao froze and dropped the stuffed head to the floor. Looking down, he saw a curved blade sticking out of his chest. Turning his head back, he saw the lad clearly and fear overtook him.

“I have waited long for this day, you monster.” Quas said, removing his coat so his hooked tail could move quicker. “Some of these beasts were beasts, but not that one!” He growled, his smooth scaly face in rage. “I was only a child when my father was murdered for no reason, save for being in the wrong place at the wrong time! I knew him to be a good, honest and innocent man, slain by a human for couple pieces of gold! It took me years to learn the truth of who it was!” He growled, pulling his blade tail, the second indicator of slyan, back. Oinao started to fall, but Quas rushed over and grabbed the man. “You human adventurers are the reason we must hide. Your desire to kill anything that does not have pink skin has made many orphans and widows. What disgust me the most is your sick desire to insult the dead like this!” He shouted, wave his hand to the heads of the different creatures adorn on the walls.

Oinao could only tremble in the angry claws of the youth, as the life fade from his body. Letting the body fall to the ground, Quas picked up his father’s mounted head. Quas turned his head to the dying man.

“I know the stories. The adventurer will slay the evil monster and be rewarded by the villagers. I do not care for those kinds of stories. I care for the ones where the adventurer fulfills his oaths by slaying the foul beast.”

“What’s, wha-” Oinao tried to speak.

“What’s my oath?” Quas looked at the man who was seconds away from death. “I gave an oath to give my father a proper burial and avenge his death.” Leaning in, he spoke the last words to Oinao the head hunter would ever hear. “Tonight, half that oath has been fulfilled.”

And with that, the adventurer known as Quas had slain his first monster and was on his way to fulfilling his oath.

[Stormkit]

Oh much better than the first part I think. This combined with the fact that I barely ended up changing the latter part of your first part makes me think that you're good with scenes with action and dialogue in them... it's just setting the scene that you need to work on. I enjoyed reading this story ^.^

[Evilhumour]

Hehe, thank you. This was a pleasure to right and who knows, I might write more.

[Virmir]

Nice twist at the end! I really liked this one, Evil. Keep it up!

[Evilhumour]

Nice twist at the end! I really liked this one, Evil. Keep it up!

Thank you Virmir, it was pleasure to write. And thanks to Kit, I have more plans to it.