Greetings fellow fantasy lovers This is my first post on this forum, and I decided to crown it with a bit of fiction Please, get constructive criticism up and tell me what you think. Just to be clear, english is my second language, but i hope it turns out alright It's very short at the moment, but i hope to expand it. I just want to do it little sections at the time. Please tell me what you think about the style, and first person narration. Thanks in advance!! ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Do you know how it feels to have everything you have had in your life ripped away from you within seconds? Do you know how it feels to see those who ruined your life sleep in gold that once was yours, while you, cold, shiver to your bones? I know how it feels and day by day, my fury grows stronger. I am Karras, and before you find out anything about me, remember, my friend, words can bleed… As I peaked through the wooden frame of the window the sun was collapsing under the tired sky filled with grey, stormy clouds. The air outside was clean, and that, believe you me, could not be said about the place I was sitting in. The tavern was empty. A few peasants kneeled in one corner and enjoyed their monthly jug of beer for this was as often as they could afford it. Whenever I visit this place, and I don’t do it very often I stay clean of local beverage. Reason? Very simple - It’s like drinking piss. Throughout my entire lifetime I have not tasted something as disgusting as this and yet I am not surprised that those simple men are enjoying it; they haven’t tasted anything better and besides that, a rat will taste like pork to a drunk. The main hall was filled with tables and lit by dim torches. The far side of the room also accommodated quite a large fireplace but obviously the owner decided there is no point in wasting wood for a few peasants which sooner or later will forget whether they are cold or not thanks to their drinks. As I watched them I knew full well they will end up naked, and possibly even dead in the morning – providing that they are stupid enough to leave this building in the middle of the night and make their way home. Not many dare to travel on their own these days, but there are some who have a death wish written all over their back. Everything is valuable today. Rags, beer, tunics – anything you dare to name. Of course, some have plenty of food not to get hungry, and enough clothes to walk in something different everyday, but most cannot afford such luxury. If you are a noble, or know someone who is and are on good terms with him or her then you don’t have to worry about your life. It is us, those who have nothing that struggle everyday. Funny that, yet some time ago I wouldn’t have dared to say such things… ‘Karras’ my companion’s voice ripped me out of the trance and thoughts that wandered around my head were cleared at once. I slipped the hand away from my mouth on which the head was resting, and sat up straight showing him that I was awake. He looked at me, but I tried to avoid the stare and turned away to face the dark fireplace. ‘Look, I know what you are thinking, but we can’t stay here for much longer, they are looking for us’. I knew very well they were following our trail and if we don’t move we will be as good as dead, yet I resisted. ‘He said he will be here, just wait.’ ‘Wait for what? I’ve been waiting for too long Karras! Do you have any idea what will happen if they get to us? You can’t possibly-‘ ‘I know!’ I raised my voice and looked at him with a fright in my eye. He looked back, and we started at each other in silence. In a low tone, quietly, I repeated ‘I know…’ Seconds became minutes, and minutes turned into hours. It was a gamble, a gamble with the gods – time was the game and our lives were the stakes. Scythe has given up already. It seemed he was prepared for the worst. Not many men I met were able to think about death in such a clear vision, but even less were prepared to accept it. He proved himself more then once, and I count myself lucky to have such a companion. Although I know him for quite a while now, five years if I recall correctly, he doesn’t stop to amaze me. It’s surprising I know so little and yet so much about him. His face rose away from the mug of golden beer and he gasped as he put it down on the table. ‘Piss’ I grinned gently to myself as he expressed his structured and complex opinion and picked up his mug. I looked at the beer, trying to make out any strange objects which might float in the substance, just so that I could point it out to him and cheer myself up. In all honesty, Scythe wouldn’t care if those were human excrements. He is a man of few words and big actions, although sometimes those actions are a bit over exaggerated and rapid. Not once nor twice we got into trouble with the locals, innkeepers and peasants for throwing a table at a drunk – always within reason, or at least, that’s what I’m trying to believe. ‘Might be piss but you are clearly enjoying it’ I said mockingly whilst putting away the mug.