TheSomeone
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Yah, diz shit aint fan fic so screw that section. This is an experimental piece of writing, I hope you can enjoy something different. Also note that updates my be short because I'm a slow writer. I actually concentrate on every single wor i use 
, a habit i learned from composing.
:stare:
Preface.
There is no map at the beggining of this book.
No map to show where "the plains of the East,""the great mountains of the north," or "the lair of the Dragon Queen Sgahtowehnoth" lie. Because for one, nobody knows where Ednn is, not even those who live there, for two, nobody who lives in Ednn could care less about anything outside of their 10 mile radius, and for three, I hate maps.
Le'ts make it clear that this isn't your average work of fantasy.
I chose four tales to exemplify Ednn; to show the reader what Ednn is rather than trying to explain it to him.
There is no long introduction to explaint he background of Ednn, or how it came "at the birth of the Third Age of men after the war of Dhaosnomomom" because quite frankly,
I hate long introductions.
The First Tale: The tale of Man
Jonas woke up with hammers smashing the back of his brains. At least he thought so, until he opened his eyes and discovered he was lying in his bed with all his clothes on, a massive migraine greeting the first ounces of daylight striking his eyes.
He lay on his bed for several minutes in order to register and acknowledge every bit of pain that plagued his body. His muscles ached, his back felt sore, everything hurt. He came to the conclusion that getting himself to sit up on the edge of the bed would take all of his energy, and that if he couldn't do it in one powerful burst, he would be nailed to his bed for the rest of the day. With a few seconds of anticipation, he finally lunged himself into a sitting position with all the energy he had, only to fling himself on the hardwood floor.
He layed there thinking "f uck," because with all the energy he had left he could not think of a longer word.
As his senses slowly decided to join his mind again, Jonas gradually became capable of more complex thought, and asked himself "What could have done this to me?" After a strenuous effort he realize he had absolutely no idea.
While he lay there pondering his very existence, his muscles regained consciousness, and he regained their control. With a second burst of energy, he threw himself in an upright position, this time successfully. He stood, with a precarious lack of balance, but he stood.
He opened the door to his studio to find the landlady had already brought the daily basin of water. He pulled it in and closed the door behind him. Observing his reflection in the water he realize he had just stepped outside with a shirt completely stained with blood; looking at his bed sheets confirmed his justified doubts that yes, his attire was indeed completely bloodied, and he still had absolutely no clue as to how such a horrible thing could caused this. He took off his clothes and threw them in a bucket, quickly washed himself and put on a fresh set of clothes.
He went to check his utility belt. His dagger was clean, his hankerchief was definetly not. Three darts were missing. Usually he used one on a hit, at most. He checked every pouch for a payment, a scrap of paper with a victim's adress, anything that could explain the violence that had obviously taken place the night before: nothing. He closed his eyes and concentrated with all his might on small things that could trigger his memory: what he had for breakfast yesterday, what the weather was, whether he visited Danielle: nothing. For what seemed like the first time in his life, Jonas was worried.
He sat on the edge of his bed, paced his breath. In... Out... In... Out...
He put on his boots and went for the door.
(to be continued)
, a habit i learned from composing.:stare:
Preface.
There is no map at the beggining of this book.
No map to show where "the plains of the East,""the great mountains of the north," or "the lair of the Dragon Queen Sgahtowehnoth" lie. Because for one, nobody knows where Ednn is, not even those who live there, for two, nobody who lives in Ednn could care less about anything outside of their 10 mile radius, and for three, I hate maps.
Le'ts make it clear that this isn't your average work of fantasy.
I chose four tales to exemplify Ednn; to show the reader what Ednn is rather than trying to explain it to him.
There is no long introduction to explaint he background of Ednn, or how it came "at the birth of the Third Age of men after the war of Dhaosnomomom" because quite frankly,
I hate long introductions.
The First Tale: The tale of Man
Jonas woke up with hammers smashing the back of his brains. At least he thought so, until he opened his eyes and discovered he was lying in his bed with all his clothes on, a massive migraine greeting the first ounces of daylight striking his eyes.
He lay on his bed for several minutes in order to register and acknowledge every bit of pain that plagued his body. His muscles ached, his back felt sore, everything hurt. He came to the conclusion that getting himself to sit up on the edge of the bed would take all of his energy, and that if he couldn't do it in one powerful burst, he would be nailed to his bed for the rest of the day. With a few seconds of anticipation, he finally lunged himself into a sitting position with all the energy he had, only to fling himself on the hardwood floor.
He layed there thinking "f uck," because with all the energy he had left he could not think of a longer word.
As his senses slowly decided to join his mind again, Jonas gradually became capable of more complex thought, and asked himself "What could have done this to me?" After a strenuous effort he realize he had absolutely no idea.
While he lay there pondering his very existence, his muscles regained consciousness, and he regained their control. With a second burst of energy, he threw himself in an upright position, this time successfully. He stood, with a precarious lack of balance, but he stood.
He opened the door to his studio to find the landlady had already brought the daily basin of water. He pulled it in and closed the door behind him. Observing his reflection in the water he realize he had just stepped outside with a shirt completely stained with blood; looking at his bed sheets confirmed his justified doubts that yes, his attire was indeed completely bloodied, and he still had absolutely no clue as to how such a horrible thing could caused this. He took off his clothes and threw them in a bucket, quickly washed himself and put on a fresh set of clothes.
He went to check his utility belt. His dagger was clean, his hankerchief was definetly not. Three darts were missing. Usually he used one on a hit, at most. He checked every pouch for a payment, a scrap of paper with a victim's adress, anything that could explain the violence that had obviously taken place the night before: nothing. He closed his eyes and concentrated with all his might on small things that could trigger his memory: what he had for breakfast yesterday, what the weather was, whether he visited Danielle: nothing. For what seemed like the first time in his life, Jonas was worried.
He sat on the edge of his bed, paced his breath. In... Out... In... Out...
He put on his boots and went for the door.
(to be continued)
