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Rated: · Short Story · Action/Adventure · #1882220
Something I want to expand into a real short story.
A slow creek out of the unknown air grazed the underlying forest. A tension, bold and strong, shook the leaves ever so quietly. A band of men, thirteen in all, knew not where they where, or whereabouts their destination lie. Some of them, the weaker, more intelligent ones, even looked distraught and thirsty for water. The journey outward, to travel to the palace of Aemin, was no doubt a long and winding road full of wreck and misery. These men had plundered their path, and braved on for two months. The sun, the shade, the deep of the night, the empty wretches of those caves they slept in, they had been through the darkest of hells.

Aero, the one who was in charge of the men, was a high commander once, a very recognized individual, who fought many great wars, and brought revolution to his own people. He was an elf. He had hips that were so agile, and legs that did not have a stiffness in them. He was the fastest of the bunch. His arrows, his military might, were unmatched, and anyone who dared to challenge him, were immediately skewered by his lightning abilities, in mere seconds.

It was now the time for eating, and some men were wandering past the small vicinity of the camp. Food here, was a much sought for material. Once on this journey, the men were content, and high with devoted spirit.

Though as any journey continues, just like the day turns into night, or the night beckons the morning sun to rise again, the men through the two months became impaled with dourness, with incoherent talk, and frustrated logic.

"What?"
A dwarf began complaining.
"Hugh.. go away." He continued while not even acknowledging the other man's face.
The man he was quarreling with was Jude. He was a man, with seemingly no mind. Or at best, it was a very weak willed one, that never came out at people. His personality was swathed in clouds, a sort of disingenuously mysterious person. He didn't talk much, and even more so in a straight one to one argument, his mouth never moved a muscle.

"That's what I though big brute! Stand there! Your big ugly sword is all you got!"

The other men looked at the two. Some of them just brimming with insults to spare and throw in between the two. The dwarf never liked people looking at him, especially not his arguments or when he becomes very frustrated.

"Don't speak to me."

Suddenly all reservations and tiredness around the camp halted to deadness. Suddenly everyone glared at Jude.

"Haha! The big man talks!" Said the young man who just entered the stronghold of knighthood.

"Yeah!" Shouted the cook who was even shorter than the dwarf, yet no one knew what creature he was.

"Hemph!" Blared the shiny, angel like and blonde human with no trace of ugliness in his fair face.

The crowd began to stamper in, and they became excited that this big man with an ugly sword said four words.

Aero also became heightened with a jovial and childlike sentiment. He approached the dwarf and Jude.

"Are you two actually quarrelling?"

"Looks like it..." said the cook, sharpening his knives with a rock.

"Well, that's just great!" Aero said.

"What's great...? He is still a big brute with an ugly sword... I should take it and smite his gut with it!"

"Haha!" said a bunch of the men, all conjoining with laughter and a tirade of big bustling noise.
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