Once Upon A Time
I wrote a story for film class a bit ago. Had a lot of help editing it from Adam and Juji. Heres the 'finished' version. I may make a few edits. I Don't know. I may continue it. I don't know. You have to read it in a state of mind like its going be continued though. So....yeah....read...let me know what you think...good or bad...whatever....
Once Upon A Time
Once upon a time, in a land hidden and secret. Was a place of many mysteries. A land filled with Elves, Goblins, Orcs and Dragons! There were certain types of Men and wizards and Dwarves and Griffins. Among many other races and creatures.
This story however is about an elf. Not just any kind of elf, but a Dark Elf who goes by the name of Rainalor. Now, Dark Elves aren't the friendliest of folk. In fact, they are only friendly to those of their own kind and those to whom they must be friendly. They are friendliest when it benefits them or when they must honor age old Elven vows made before time had begun but we will get to that later.
Now Rainalor was quite different from the other dark elves of his clan, that of the PermaFrost region - Now as you already know, Dark Elves are not too kindly to outsides, but Rainalor is quite different in that way. Rainalor has had dealings with many outsiders for quite some time now. Sometimes during the day Rainalor would sneak out while some of the other Dark Elves were either sleeping till nightfall or on watch for intruders and would meet with Dwarves and Men and Griffins and other creatures that dwell within the PermaFrost region.
This story truly begins with a particular meeting between Rainalor and a dwarf named Aynin Tunnlehelm.
“Ahh!” groaned Aynin Tunnlehelm. “Tha'll not be enough for these finely crafted daggers! We have been trading for many seasons now! Do ye truly think I would accept that as a trade?” Rainalor chuckled softly to him self and laid the small bag in the dwarf's hand and spoke.
“Open it.” he smirked. Aynin stared at Rainalor for a moment and then smirked to him self.
“What have you got to surprise me this time lad?” Aynin untied the strap on the small leather bag, “Awfully light isn't it? Are you sure this is wha' yer wanting to trade me?” he said as he poured the contents into his small plump dwarf hand. He gasped at what he saw.
The bag had contained a single damaged tooth and a few flakes of green and white skin that seemed to be scales.
“Are these?...” Began Aynin.
“Yes, the tooth and scales of a Basilisk and these scales,” Rainalor
interrupted as he pointed to the two white scales in Aynin's hand. “These lead me to believe that these scales came from the Basilisk king.”
Aynin stood and stared at the items in his hand for a moment. Then he looked up to Rainalor. “Where did you...?”
“A passing artifact merchant sold them to me.”
“And where did he...”
“He claims to have found them in this very sack in a pub in the south lands,” Interrupted Rainalor for a third time. Aynin stared at the Basilisk debris again. There was a long pause. Finally he broke the silence.
“An' what am I to do with them? Where as I could sell these daggers for fair amounts of gold just south west from here. It is not often that men get their hands on daggers such as these crafted for Dark Elves.”
Rainalor gave another one of his dark elf smirks. “My trade is not the items in the bag my dear friend but rather to have you join me in my quest.”
Aynin glared at Rainalor sternly, trying to size him up, which if you know anything about dark elves at all, it is almost impossable because they are such a complex and unpredictable race.
“So I take it you plan on finding the Basilisk king?” grunted Aynin.
“Not only that my friend, but I wish to slay him and take his riches for my self,” Rainalor replied.
At this Aynin gave a slightly cross expression while Rainalor continued, “And for those who join me of course.”
Aynin smiled and gave a haughty chuckle.
“Aye my friend, you know how to intriguing us dwarves, but have you not heard the tales of the Basilisk king's castle and his hundreds of guards? The very water they slither in down in their castle will eat through my strongest of chain mail!” With this Rainalor pulled something from his satchel and once again Aynin was stunned. It was a shirt of Mythril. The strongest metal known to the world. With another hard chuckle Aynin spoke once more. “Rainalor my friend, you surprise me even more then the queer folk that are the moon elves. Now where did you happen to come upon this?”
“Why, from a moon elf, Aynin." said Rainalor. “And I can get many more pieces if I please.”
“So you have a way through the deadly waters but what about the guards?”
“That is where I was hoping you could come in.” Said Rainalor. “I know a wizard that would join us if only we were to gather more for the adventure. I also have some wood elf brethren who I hoped might join us as well, but I was hoping you would be able to find a few of your dwarf relatives to help us in our journey.”
“Are you feeling well Rainalor? There is no chance a small group of dwarves, wood elves, a Dark Elf and a wizard would be able to kill the Basilisk king or his guards. A whole army could not, if the stories I've heard are true. Anywise, how would we find the king's castle? For an age, no one has known where it is and I think the Basilisk king would like to keep it that way.”
With this Rainalor gave his own sorts of a haughty chuckle.
“ My dear friend. What do you think the wizard is for? And the wood elves? Don't you know that a good wizard can find out almost anything if he just tries? And did you not know that Wood Elves are the best trackers since the Meen?” Said Rainalor.
Aynin thought for a moment and said.
“Come my friend. Let us breakfast together and speak of your plans over the finest breads, meats, cheeses and wines of my people which I have brought along to celebrate our trade!” And with this they went deep into the woods and spoke well into the night about Rainalor's planned adventure.
Earlier that night, the Dark Elves, including Grishord, had risen and gone
about their tasks. Grishord was larger then most Dark Elves, but that did not bother him at all. He lived in a medium sized stone home with a fire place, a sitting chair, a bed and his pipe collection. That is much more then most Dark Elves can speak for. Grishord was very proud of his pipe collection. He had 85 pipes total but tonight he planned to get his 86th. He woke from his sleep as the sun just finished setting. He rose from his bed, lit a candle and carried it over to his fire place and lit it with the flame from the candle. Then blew out the candle. His fire began to roar in no time. He sat for awhile staring upon his fine pipe collection on the wall. He sat for awhile staring at his pipe collection until he thought it was time to go fetch his new pipe. He stood from his sitting chair, left his house with his purse of coins and then walked off down the street to the pipe maker's shop. He walked in the door and was kindly greeted by Kelrin who seemed to have just woken up him self, seeing as his hair was quite a mess. Grishord walked over to a wall and took down a fine pipe which he had had his eye on for months. It was a long stemmed pipe with an end carved into a lighthouse. He took it to Kelrin, handed him his coin purse and walked out of the store. Filled with joy he had forgotten that he was out of pipe weed. Without a second thought he began to walk into the woods to where his favorite pipe weed grew. He walked along the wood for a bit until he heard someone speaking quite loudly in an agitated manner. He ducked behind a tree and peeked his head out. It was a dwarf and he seemed to be talking to someone, but Grishord could not see who. Grishord ducked back behind the tree, sat at the base of it and began to think to him self.
“The Dwarf must be here for trading.”
Most dwarves travel from their mountains only to trade. This Dwarf could not have been from anywhere nearby, seeing as there were no mountains in PermaFrost. Grishord began to think that he might be able to pick the little Dwarve's pockets so he could begin to save for the next pipe he had his eye on. The long stemmed pipe had an end which was carved into what looked to him to be a marvelously green and white roaring Dragon. So he sat and listened.
He hear about the plan to find the Basilisk king and take his treasure. Though Grishord did not know what a Basilisk was or that it even had a king, he did know what treasure was and was very interested. He thought he knew the voice that was speaking to the Dwarf, though he could not think of who it was.
After a good while Grishord dearly wanted to smoke his new pipe. He suddenly remembered he had a small bit of pipe weed left in his jacket pocket. He placed it into his pipe, lit it and began to smoke. He greatly enjoyed it as well as his new pipe. Suddenly a dark hand came from around the tree and grabbed him by the collar, pulling him out. It was Rainalor. He had seen the smoke from Grishord's pipe and had sneaked over to see who it was.
“Grishord! You half blooded Dark Elf! Were you listening in on our conversation!” bellowed Rainalor.
Grishord struggled to find words. He looked from Rainalor to the Dwarf and back. In his desperate search for words, he dropped his pipe. The smoldering pipe weed fell upon Rainalor's foot. It quickly set the cuff of Rainalor's pants ablaze. He dropped Grishord and took a tankard of water from the table Aynin and him self were sitting, throwing it upon the flames and put them out. As he did this Grishord scrambled to his feet and ran off back to his stone house.
Aynin Looked at Rainalor and said, “Should we not catch him and stop him from speaking of this to the other Dark Elves? Will you not be outcast from your clan?”
Rainalor sighed. “Grishord dare not speak of anything against me, for it is me that keeps him in the clan. He is partly Orc but the rest of the clan does not know that and I have sworn to keep it that way. So he knows that if he were to have me outcast that he him self would be outcast as well.”
Aynin gave a chuckle and said. “Part Orc? Who's ever heard of a part Orc part Dark Elf?”
At that, they continued to speak of the adventure at hand and feast upon the meal Aynin brought from his city. They spoke almost to sun rise and then they broke ways and each left for their own homes. Aynin had agreed to seek a few mighty dwarves and join in the adventure to slay the great Basilisk king. After being awake for some time now, Rainalor left for his home and some well deserved sleep.
There it is. Seven pages of crap. Let me know what you think I guess.