Scrawled Stories

Chapter One - Fateful Night

The beast reared back, and with a great roar fell upon us. A great show of bravado, but one which could fool none of us: Blood gushed from the spear buried deep within its neck. This was the only solace we could take as fire cold as ice rolled ever closer to us, a maw of swordlike teeth following in its wake. If I die, I still have succeeded. I could not help but to smile one last time.

It was a cold night, the coldest of the year so far. Still vivid in my mind is the huge we had built, burning near the well: its flickering light warmed both our bodies and our spirits, in celebration of having made it to another full moon. Though the threat of the first snow loomed over our heads, that light shed hope on an otherwise bleak and dreary night.

Well, it looked like it did, anyway.

I was forbidden from joining the rest of the village in their celebration. Flat, cold denial by my lovely, caring mother and father. Instead, I was to sort out the firewood in preparation for the coming frost: a tedious and difficult task which would surely keep me occupied until the sun shined overhead once again. All because they found me out two days ago, thanks to Martin and his mom.

It was a harmless game we were playing, where one of us would hide and the other would search. So, maybe we should have thought better of using the cold river water as a penalty for being found out. So, maybe it was me who was bone dry and he who was soaked through when his mother came to collect him for dinner. So, maybe we hadn’t thought it through, and just went with whatever crazy ideas appeared in our heads.

So maybe I could have kept my mouth shut for once, and let his mom walk away grumbling to herself.

With a sigh, I take another cord of wood into consideration, inspecting it closely for any signs of rot or decay. It’s not like I could have avoided doing this job anyway. I’ve done it for the last four years, right around this time. Just, not on the night of the full moon, missing the fire and the feast which always accompanied it. I could have done it tomorrow, when the mess left from the night before was both reminisced about and removed from sight by everyone else in the town, letting me skip that equally tedious chore.

Ugh, this entire stack is bad. Completely soaked through, like Martin was two days ago. Only difference is, this smelled much worse.

And now I’ve got to get rid of it.

Resigned to my fate, I started to take it apart, gathering the first few pieces and taking them up the 13, 14, 15 steps which led outdoors from the cellar. One step for each year I have been alive. I took them a good ways away from our house, into the needle bearing trees which lined our home. My home. Since I can remember, anyway.

My parents were always very upfront about how I got here: a pair of travelling merchants rode through town one day, with a baby wrapped up in a gray cloth. When they finished their business and left, however, they left something behind, seemingly on purpose: me, at the side of the old well. Not content to see me die there, my parents chose to take me in and raise me as their own, they themselves having been unable to have a child.

And that is how I came to live in Oslin, a small village at the foot of a mountain. The End.

I remember hearing that story every Spring, when my Aunt and Uncle would come to visit. They lived far east, on the other side of the mountain, in a trade city called “Drakonaj.” To get here took them a week, and that only if they could hitch a ride with a travelling caravan. I still like that story, though.

Tossing the wood scraps as far as I can, I sighed once more and turned back towards the warm glow that was Oslin tonight. For a moment, I paused to listen to the tunes carried on the winds, on flutes and strings I’ve heard for years. Something about their sound has always calmed me, no matter what I may have been raving about not five minutes ago.

Buckling down, I moved quicker than before. 15 steps, both up and down, and then a small toss. Soon, the deadwood was nearly all disposed of. This was the last run I have to make.

It was also the last time I would be able to hear the music, unless another cord is rotted through… I paused once again, taking in the glow which seemed even a bit brighter than before. Closing my eyes, I listened hard for the sounds of the music and the laughter which I could have been a part of that night, the cold wind dying down so that I could hear it clear and crisp, as if I were there.

I heard only silence.

The moon was barely high in the sky yet, and they had stopped playing and laughing? That was unheard of! Maybe I couldn’t hear it for some reason… Perhaps they were playing a quieter piece, and with this distance I just couldn’t hear it.

I took two steps forward, and then I heard something. Not music, sweet and gentle and calming, nor laughter puncuated with small bouts of talking. It got louder, and I knew just what it was: Screaming. Painful, frightened, and desperate screaming.

It was then I saw them for the first time: Raiders, clothed in tattered red clothes, atop huge beasts. Hideous grins were painted across their faces, with not even a hint of remorse or uncertainty about them, as they cut down people I had known my entire life.

Martin’s mother was standing there, screaming out in sheer terror at the man rushing towards her. Once swipe across her chest, and she fell to the ground, with a heart wrenching thud which I felt deep in my stomach.

And that… that was when I ran.

I ran back over to the cellar, knowing that hiding would do little good. I’d been told tales of roving bandits and raiders which would reduce villages not unlike ours to naught but moldering flesh and smoldering ash. Supposedly, though, we were safe from them, they having fled South, to warmer and more bountiful areas, over a decade ago.

The tales I had been told could not be forgotten now, in the midst of my own worst nightmare. Men and Women were killed and captured, to work as slaves to the horde. Boys were sold, usually to slavers, sometimes after years having been tortured under the raiders as playthings.

But none of that would happen to me should I be found. With a shudder, I tried to put out what happened to their girl captives out of my mind. Barring the door behind me, I ran down those fifteen steps one more time, and turned to stare at the door, as my parents had always taught me to do should something like this happen.

My parents! Horror swept through me as I realized they were probably still out there, since they were not here. I look around the room for a moment, making sure they are absent, and then my eyes fall once again on the door.

A nagging voice in my head tells me to stay put, stay quiet, and stay alive. Even so, the source of that voice, my mom, is still out there, and possibly looking to make it here for safety.

Apologizing to her voice in my head, I unbarred the door and opened it just a crack, peeking out to see if they were nearby. What I saw made me freeze, frightened at having such a sight greet me. What I saw made my heart beat quickly and loudly, in my ears and in my chest. What I saw was something I just new would change my life forever, as if this entire night was simply ordinary up until now. But most of all…

What I saw… saw me.

I quickly closed the door, feeling in my gut that it was far too late, and dashed down those 15 steps, those 15 years I have lived flashing in the back of my mind. I looked for a place to hide, and eventually settled on crouching behind one of the larger wood piles. I silently begged not to be found, knowing that that would take a miracle of some sort.

Then, I heard rattling at the door, followed by a sickly soft thudding that seemed regular, like an axe chopping wood. A roar of pain echoed out, deep and dirty, and then, it went all quiet. I heard something I think I will remember for the rest of my life, no matter if that is 50 minutes or 50 years from now:

“You stay away from her.”

My dad’s voice was barely a mumble, but I could easily tell who it is. Joy, unspeakable from fear, wells up inside me. Silently, I thanked my father for all he has ever done and all he would ever do, as tears began to stream down my cheeks.

“Stay safe, Baby.”

With that, everything went quiet again. I tried to move, to find a better hiding spot, to bar the door again and give me an extra five seconds should someone try to break it down. But I just couldn’t. I was frozen in place, somewhere in between the fear and relief coursing through my mind.

I stayed there, and I cried, thanking Martin and my Parents for not letting me go celebrate. I cried, fearing the worst for everyone I had ever known. I cried, wondering how I was going to survive this terrible, terrible night.

tl;dr: I outline the main elements of the novel I am going to begin writing in a week, using some articles I found elsewhere on the internet.

SPOILERS ABOUND BELOW, SKIP IF THAT BOTHERS YOU

Story Goal

The main goal the main character has in this story is going to be finding a safe and happy place to live after surviving the raid which destroyed her village.

Possible Tie-ins to this goal include:

The Raiders Reappearing, or Appearing in Local Rumor.
Wild Creatures scaring and creating an unsafe place to live.
Natural conditions worsening, possibly due to a change in seasons.
Travelling Merchants or Pilgrims who let her gang a while.
Obviously, the Spirit of the Stone offering confidence and companionship.
People talking about the port city on the other side of the mountain, where she has an uncle who works as a scribe.
Food and Water difficult commodities to come by in the wild.

Consequence of Failure

The first consequence of her not finding a safe place to live would probably be death, as she would continue to search unless she dies. Secondarily, a less world-ending consequence might be enslavement or loneliness.

Forewarnings of Failure

Hunger after a week in the wild.
Strangers in an in take too much interest in her.
Getting Lost in the Forest at night.
Being attacked by a wild animal.
It begins to snow. Heavily.
No landmarks she can see after the snowstorm.
She is captured by a lone raider who is going to sell her into slavery.
She is followed by the city guard for being covered in blood and dirt, arrested?

Requirements of Success

Locate a source of food and water enough to hike over the mountain.
Hear tell of the City having successfully fought off a large scale attack by Raiders.
Begin travelling on the mountain paths, trying to head East using the sky.
Survive a run-in with a wild animal near an abandoned road shelter.
Find shelter during first snow of the year.
Gang with a group of travellers who are heading her way for a while.
Escape from captivity of a lone raider who fled from the rout at the Port City.
Try not to be arrested in the city before finding her Uncle.

Costs

Survival of Initial Attack means hiding and letting Village be destroyed before her eyes.
Survival Post Attack means leaving entire past behind, to be buried in the winter snow.
Having Food and Water means doing nasty things she may not have liked to do, like killing animals or cleaning fish.
Finding Shelter means trusting the Spirit in the Stone with her life during the snowstorm.
Escaping from the Raider is only possible if she is able to kill him.

Dividends

…She survives the attack. Really, nothing else.
She will no longer be an orphan, being in the care of her Uncle in the City.
She will gain the ability to be self sufficient, and do things herself.
Realising the bond she could build with the Spirit would be beneficial.
She gets closure and catharsis on those who killed her family.

Prerequisites

She must calm down and clear her head.
She must hide the fact that she is hearing voices from a stone.
She must be told where the port city is by someone.
She must attempt to defend herself (unsuccessfully) in other ways before throwing the stone at it.
She must realize that the blanket she has is not going to be enough to protect her from the worsening snow.
She must decide to leave her snow-cave.
She must somehow obtain the stone, by having the raider give it to her to play with.
She must make it to the city.

Preconditions

She has been running for days, not eating or drinking much of anything.
She responds to the stone verbally, and by moving her body.
The map she recieves is destroyed somehow.
She rushes into the abandoned shelter without checking or listening to the stone.
She sees the clouds forming in the sky, and feels the chill in the air.
She stays in her snow cave long after the snow stops, running out her food supply.
She is knocked unconsious by an unknown assailant.
She walks into the city covered in the blood of the person she killed.

Full Plot Outline Using the Above, sans ending

After the attack on her village by the wandering raiders, the heroine flees into the surrounding forests in a frightened haze. She eventually finds a rock which seems to talk to her, and offers her companionship and confidence which she just does not have after the trauma she has undergone.

Finding a nearby inn, she is able to scrounge up some food and water… and, as she works off the meal she is unable to pay for, overhears that the Port City where her Aunt and Uncle Live recently was attacked too- but they survived. Indeed, they were almost unscathed, and routed the enemy completely. She decides to head to that city, in the hopes of finding shelter from the untamed wilds she now must call home.

She obtains a map from the wandering travellers, and uses it to go a ways, before it is blown out of her hands and lands in a river. She then gets lost once again, until she realizes that she can use the stars to find her way. She comes across an abandoned road shelter, which unfortunately housed a hungry wolf.

She gets out of this by accidentally summoning the spirit in the stone, which takes care of the problem for her. This, however, freaks her out to such a degree that she nearly disposes of the stone and the spirit altogether… until it begins to snow. The spirit is able to find shelter for them, proving his loyalty to her… and so she does not destroy him, and instead attempts to bond with him more as they wait out the storm.

She is hesitant to leave the cave after the snow seems to have stopped, until her cave is visited by a group of travellers. She of course does not trust these strangers at all, but they seem to be going her way, and as she has no clue where she is going, she decides to walk with them a while.

When they point out the trail to the port city, she steals away in the night, thanking them silently… only to be knocked unconscious as soon as she stops moving. She has been captured by a lone Raider, the same one who 40 days ago she saw in her village.

He plans to sell her into slavery, once they get back to the badlands. He has taken all of her belongings, including the stone, and tied her up. She eventually convinces him to give her the stone… and the spirit is able to cut her bonds and grab her a knife. However, she knows she cannot outrun or outpower her captor, and so she must kill him when he next returns.