An ode to a great writer!

This is something I wrote for an expository writing class to get out of doing a research paper. It takes in key events in a great fantasy writers life. If you can guess who it is I'll give you a cookie or something..don't have much to give though, but enjoy:

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"Line up you slobbering fools!" the captain yelled as he walked into the courtyard. Ryke's boots clinked as he stalked over to where the thirty-three new recruits waited in a mix of fear and excitement. At six foot four he towered over most of the men. He was stocky and looked hard as a rock with a square face that was framed with a grizzled black beard. The stare of his one good dark brown eye caused many of the young men to shift their feet. His other eye was covered with a black patch, yet the scar that went along with it could be seen. He walked the line, inspecting each recruit closely. Ryke stopped in front of one of the men. He was twenty-three by Ryke's guess, possibly twenty-four. He was straight-backed and stared through Ryke as he looked directly into his eyes. Clean-shaven with wavy brown hair, and he was just shorter than Ryke himself.

"What's yer name?" Ryke spat out.

"Kuhn Tollarn sir!"

"Why are you here Kuhn?"

The young man focused in on Ryke's face. He worked his jaw yet no sound came out. Grinding his jaw, Kuhn's face was a mask of anger and rage. His eyes became distant, as if remembering something long ago, and filled with sorrow. After a few seconds of undisturbed silence, he came back and stated flatly and with no emotion, "I wish to kill orcs sir."

"Do you know the sword?"

"Well enough, sir."

"Come on then." Ryke said as he beckoned the young man forward. Kuhn walked out of the line into the open courtyard. Ryke motioned to a spot a few paces away from where he came to rest, Kuhn, obeying the unspoken command, walked to the spot. Ryke smiled to himself. Too many recruits these days didn't have the presence of mind to conserve themselves. They were too anxious. Too ready to please. Kuhn studied Ryke as a pupil would; he was ready.

"Unsheathe," Ryke ordered Kuhn simply, reaching back and pulling his large bastardsword from its sheath slowly. Kuhn cautiously did the same. He held the longsword that was issued to him when he signed up to join the Lanca militia. Its edge was dulled for training use, and completely unadorned. Its handle was wrapped with leather, and it had a simple crosspiece to protect his bands. Holding it the proper way, he shifted his feet into a protective stance, eyes studying every motion Ryke made all the while.

Without warning Ryke struck out to the side, but Kuhn's blade deflected it neatly. Only a testing strike. Ryke then came on in full force with the thought if he could intimidate Kuhn and the recruits now, he would have them easily ready to be molded into proper soldiers sooner. Kuhn started out slow and determined. His blade came just in time to deflect Ryke's, but not once could he himself get in a strike. Picking up momentum, Ryke pushed Kuhn whom stumbled to the ground and lost his sword.

"You are dead soldier." Ryke said to Kuhn with a grimace. Kuhn had performed better than any other recruit the first day, yet he needed to make a lesson of him still. Turning to the rest of the recruits Ryke sternly exclaimed, "Never let go of your sword!" He motioned for Kuhn to pick up his weapon, then he addressed the rest of the recruits. "Your sword is an extension of yourself. It is part of you. Feel it--feel through it. Know where it is at all times. If you lose it, you yourself are lost. From this day forward, you shall have it by your side at all times. When you sleep it will be in reaching distance, when you bathe it shall be as near to you as a lover would. At anytime if you are found to not have it, you will not eat, and, light help you, I will come down on you harder than a mountain."

"As for you," he stated turning back to Kuhn, "its now your turn." Most would hesitate at this point; palms would sweat and their nerves would overcome them, but not Kuhn. Kuhn started into a circular path sizing his leader up and down. The man was studying him! Ha, Kuhn would be a great warrior on day. "Come on then, we don't have all day!" shouted Ryke.

Kuhn's next move was a straight thrust which Ryke batted away. Back again with a slash to the left which Ryke greeted with a pommel to the face. "The blade is not the only part of a sword," exclaimed Ryke. This is wear the testy would get angry, and loose all notion of control. Not Kuhn. Even though blood streamed out of his nose, Kuhn just stood studying Ryke, ready to advance once again.

He came on again and they traded blows. Kuhn attacked with and overhead swing that was parried neatly, and then had to jump away from Ryke's long reach as he swept his sword out in front of him. He came on again and they traded a few more blows, but time was growing short. Ryke had to finish this. Parrying Kuhn's thrust he swept his sword on a course to take of Kuhn's head. Ducking below the sweep, he lunged forward just as Ryke wanted him too. Parrying the thrust once again, he stepped into the lunge and planted his knee firmly in Kuhn's gut. The air rushed out of Kuhn's lungs, but he didn't go down. Stumbling away from Ryke, he swung his sword wildly to fend him off. Ryke stepped to the side of the swing and kicked out. With a slight grunt Kuhn was down on the ground holding his knee, grimacing from the pain.

"You did good, but you have a lot of room to improve. Go see to that knee, the rest of you are with me." He bellowed and then smiled. He would enjoy this.


Weeks later on a cold night, a wolf cried out at the full moon as a chilly wind rushed through the window to snuff out the flame of a candle as if it had a personal vendetta against it. Kuhn grumbled to himself as he relit it for the fifth time this session. He sat so fully absorbed in the great volume he was studying that he did not notice Ryke enter the library.

"There you are." He said, and chuckled as Kuhn almost jumped out of his seat. "Ya know, each year every single one of my men have awaited their weeks' leave from training to the village as if it were their first go at it with a young virgin, yet, you sit in this dusty old library reading books that look as if they could have been written by orcs. You just can't relax can ya Kuhn. Every time I give the others a break you're begging me to spar, or to go over tactics one more time. I've had avid soldiers before, but none that would stay up at all hours of the night devouring books as if it were the only thing to keep them alive. I don't get you Kuhn."

"First off," said Kuhn, "this is one of my books, though I did find some interesting material throughout this place that you call a library. Secondly, they're not random marks. Ever heard of the Y'Satnaf?"

"Sure, legends of a great kingdom that was devoured by greed and mistrust. Every child is told that story. Mothers wanting their children to share and..."

"Its not just a legend," Kuhn cut him off. "They were actually here, and actually did fall, though that's not what I'm going for. They dealt in the power of speech, Kanydl they called it. Most historians note that they could get whatever they wished just by saying the right words, yet through time, many a thing are corrupted. My father and I," at that Kuhn grimaced for just an instance, as if bringing up a memory long forgotten. "We believe something different. We stumbled upon these books when I was very young, and my father spent the rest of his life trying to decipher them. All his knowledge died with him, may the light shine on his soul. In what he was able to find out, Kanydl was more powerful than anyone could ever think of. I'm not exactly sure what I may find out by translating these books. So far their content has pretty much been history," he looked at the books as if he could force it to tell him its secrets, "but this just may get us an edge in the war."

Ryke looked at him as if he were mad, but just for an instant. Then he seemed to ponder something, roll it around in his mind and think it over. "Well, that's good and all for you scholars, but all I know, and need to know, is the sword" With that his hand drifted towards his sword as if to make sure it was still there. "Anyways, your not too shabby with that new shiny piece of metal yourself." He motioned to Kuhn's new longsword. He had just gotten it at the beginning of the week to show he was officially part of the Lanca Militia. "One of the best I'd say." A proud grin came over Ryke's face, one that surely puzzled Kuhn. Every other time Ryke had actually smiled it was at somebody else's misery.

"I'm giving you your own men Kuhn." He went on. "You can out fight almost any of my veterans, and have more smarts in that skull a yer's then all of 'em combined. You'll answer only to me." He starred absently at one of the many books piled up around Kuhn. "You'll have to gain your men's respect. That will be the hardest task. After they trust you with their lives, they'll follow you anywhere." He snapped back to stare directly into Kuhn's eyes. "You'll probably find some resistance at first, with you just being a young scrap of a man, but they'll warm to ya. You got yer qualities about ya son, but only in battle will we see how ya really fair."

At that he straightened his chain mail tunic and set his face back to its usually brooding grimace. "Enough of this idle chit chat then. The men will be back from their romp on the town tomorrow. From then on you will have another week to get your men to work together. I know it's not much, but Lord Barsal wants us at the front lines as soon as possible. After that week is up we march."

Kuhn watched his captain go as rigid backed as ever. Soon he thought. Very soon.



"Sir! The men are in position as you commanded. We await your order....sir!" Clive said with a wry grin on his face. It had not taken much to gain his men's trust. He had been appointed a lieutenant by Ryke and Kuhn had saved all their skins several times once they had gotten out. Yet through all of that Clive always treated him as his younger brother. At almost the same height as Kuhn, they really could have been brothers. He had short cut blonde hair with a well-trimmed mustache that trailed down seamlessly into a full goatee. He always did what he was told; yet he never hesitated to speak his mind about any and all of Kuhn's decisions. Kuhn did have to admit that he had learned much from Clive's suggestions, but nevertheless, sometimes he went to far.

"That's good Clive, now we just need to hold this position." They had been out here for three weeks now, and had pushed the orc horde back to the Nelda River. Reports came back that across the river it was teaming with orcs, and more came every day. Ryke had ordered him to hold here, one of the few good crossings across the river. He had stationed his men in a rock outcropping that was the only good cover for 500 yards all around.

Kuhn had placed a fair amount of archers behind them where the ground sloped up, right before it turned into a dense forest. If the orcs wanted to cross here they'd be met with a hail of deadly arrows. The rest he had stationed around the large rock outcropping. He had been surprised to find it, but was quick to use it as his advantage.

"Stay by my side Clive, they're coming." The feeling was back again. A wrenching in his stomach that was so unlike fear that he knew the orcs were about to come. The forest across the river exploded in noise, and here and there a tree rustled and jittered. Then the dam broke.

A monstrous amount of the green-tusked humanoids broke from the trees and ran into the water. Clive gave him a side-glance. More orcs came out of the trees in the first few seconds than he had seen the entire three weeks. Not wavering, Kuhn ordered the archers to fire.

Hundreds of arrows flew up into the air just as the first of the orcs climbed out of the river. His men in the outcropping shot down those while arrows rained down death from up the rise. Though for every orc that went down from an arrow, it seemed it was replaced by ten more that came streaming out of the trees. Kuhn let them take one more shot then ordered to unsheathe swords. The sound of blade sliding out of scabbard was a soft hum compared to the roar of the oncoming horde. He counted of the seconds until they came: One, Two, Three. Then the flood hit.

Orcs rushed around rocks all around, but were immediately cut down by all the swordsmen. Eight orcs fell for every one of his men, but there were just too many. With a wild yell Clive entered the fray, cleaving an orcs head in two. One rushed around him and straight at Kuhn.

He was an ugly brute with a mashed face. His ears were notched and pointed, like most orcs, but he had a crunched up nose that made him look like a pig. Two yellow tusks protruded from its lower jaw as it howled and slobbered all over the place. It stared wild-eyed at Kuhn as it swung its massive two-handed axe at Kuhn. A slight duck and a quick slash left the orc trying to hold in its entrails.

Men died around him left and right. Here and there an orc broke through but Kuhn promptly cut him down. They could not hold any longer. Climbing up on one of the rocks with sword held high, he bellowed into the night: "To me! To mugh." As he fell, all went black.



Clive grunted as he caught Kuhn in his arms. Holding him in one arm he sheathed his sword and tried to get Kuhn into some sort of protective area. Orcs streamed around them but they seemed more intent on the men fleeing for their lives than Clive. Twice he had to set down Kuhn and hold his ground until the steam of orcs let up. Finally Clive spotted a niche in the side of a rock and hurriedly carried Kuhn in. The fit was tight at first, so Clive had to reposition Kuhn so that he went in first, and then pulled his Lieutenant in after him. The opening widened quickly into a small cave. It was wet and damp inside, but it seemed that there were no other openings. A good defensive position.

Lying Kuhn down, Clive grimaced. An orc quarrel protruded from Kuhn's left shoulder, and the notorious poison of the orcs already seemed to be wracking Kuhn's body. Pale and sweating profusely, Kuhn was in a fevered state. His eyes were glazed and they looked distant. At least he was still breathing. He had to get the quarrel out if Kuhn was to survive. Setting himself firmly, Clive got a good hold of the shaft and yanked it out. Kuhn gave a wailing moan as his body started to tremble. Clive pressed down on the wound to stem the flow of blood.

"Come on Kuhn, you can't die on me! Come on Kuhn!"



"Kuhn, come on, come here child." Kuhn wore a huge smile on his face. He loved his father. He was such a great man. At only three years old, his dad had argued for almost half of the morning to his mother to get her to let him go. Even then they had left with about a thousand commands from his mom, but it didn't matter now. He was with his father. "Come on child, in here. I think we found it."

Kuhn ducked down to see what his father had found. It was a tiny opening in the side of a sheer cliff face. His father sat in the opening beckoning him. Quickly running over to his father, he peaked around him to what was inside. Darkness. His father took a torch out of his pack and lit it with something that Kuhn didn't quite see. He wasn't paying much attention to anything except for that dark opening in front of him. The torch lit up in a blaze and shed light into the opening. His father motioned him forward and they both started to creep into the darkness. The walls were worked and smooth, and seemed to reflect the light down farther into the corridor.

They walked a little bit, Kuhn in front of his father, but not far. He walked in awe; this was his first adventure! Up ahead the corridor seemed to open into something larger. When they entered even his father gasped in surprise. They had entered a room the size of a large room. Runes covered the walls all around. There were several shelves full of everything from small trinkets to well adorned swords. What caught his father's eye was the large stone coffin at the far end of the room. It too was covered in runes. His father traced one with his finger. "Kanydl" he whispered to himself. There was also one statement at the foot of the coffin. "Here lies the last of the true Y'Satnaf." It said.

"The Y'Satnaf were a great people." His father said directing to Kuhn. "They lived in peace for centuries upon centuries. No one dared go against them for their might, yet they were perfectly content with what they had. Until, that is, the great scourge came. The man you see before you were indeed the last true Y'Satnaf, but others came after him, but corrupt and greedy. They saw the Y'Satnaf Empire ruined. All their knowledge, everything they had discovered was lost forever." He picked up one of the books lining the coffin with watery eyes. "Until now."




Clive sat worriedly examining Kuhn. Kuhn had been mumbling incoherently for the past half an hour, yet the bleeding had stopped enough for Clive to remove Kuhn's chainmail and bandage his arm. He might survive, light help him. He needed a cleric badly. Kuhn should be well enough for some travel now. He had to be. "Its time to go Kuhn. We have to get out of here."



"We have to get out of here. We have no defenses here and the orcs are streaming out of the south. You and Kuhn are not safe here. Oh, Kuhn, you should be asleep." Kuhn had woken up to the sound of his mother and father arguing quite loudly. They had never really argued much, and even when they did it was mostly just about trivial matters. "Kuhn, you should get your sleep. Its not healthy for a young boy like you to be up at all hours of the night."

"Are we going somewhere?" Kuhn asked all too innocently.

"We might child, we might be." His mother came over to him and kissed him on the forehead. "Now go back to bed."

Even back in his room he could here his parents talking. "Those books can't save us Arthur, you know you're not that powerful yet."

"I know hun, but it can buy you two some time."



Clive crawled back into the cave after checking the surroundings. He sat down hard and stared at Kuhn. "Well Kuhn, we're in luck. The coast seems clear and you look like yer actually going to make it. Damn tough one you are. All I have say now is that if you pass away on me, I'll be comin to teach you a lesson for abandoning me when my time comes.' Clive finished with one of his trademark-crooked grins.

Taking one more peak outside he turned to the still unconscious Kuhn: "Its time to go."




"Its time to go Kuhn. We have to get out of here." His mom told him with a loving smile.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"Orcs Kuhn. The orcs are here, but don't worry, just get your stuff ready."

Kuhn hurried to his room and started collecting his things. Most of his possessions consisted of books his dad had given him, but he also had a small wooden training sword and a few other various baubles. He packed them all away and ran back to the common room where his father was giving his mother a large bulky bundle.

"No hun, these won't do me any good anymore. Take them for Kuhn."

His mother took the bundle and kissed his father hard on the lips. When she pulled away Kuhn saw a few tear trails down his mother's face. Then she turned to Kuhn.

"Lets go Kuhn." She told him while beckoning for him to come.

"Where are we going?" he asked while running to take his mothers hand.

She led him outside and took Kuhn's bag and the large bundle and placed them in the saddlebag on their family's only horse. Kuhn loved to ride it when he got the chance, but now he didn't seem very eager to get on. "We're going up north to stay with family."

"Why isn't father coming?"

"He'll be coming up later. He needs to finish some business down here first." At that she took one last look at his father who was watching from the doorway, suppressed a sob and jumped on the horse. Bringing Kuhn up behind her, she rode off into the setting sun.

In the nights to come, Kuhn would dream of his father in excruciating pain. He would never see him again.



Kuhn came out of his last flashback hitting the ground hard. Clive was on his knees next to him coughing hard. Still groggy from being out, Kuhn strained to regain focus. It was very hazy, but he could make out large tall things all around him. Trees. Clive must have carried him into the forest. Clive looked up at Kuhn and realized Kuhn was awake. "Light thank you, yer alive!" He then looked around and grimaced. "Maybe not for long though. Damn orcs lit up the entire damned forest. I might have led us into a death trap."

Kuhn had regained enough sense to look around a bit, but the light to his left was starting to hurt his eyes. Then it clicked. Flames inched forward slowly, but steadily from the west. Engulfing everything in its path. He could see the flames flicker. He knew those all too well.



The flame from the candle flickered on the wall. Kuhn could hear raspy breathing, but he could not bring up the courage to look at the source. Kuhn now knew that this was a flashback, but even in knowing he could not do anything about it. He already knew the pain he would feel after this day. He turned his head reluctantly to peer at the bed on the opposite side of the room.

There his mother laid, pale as death. Sweat glistened on her face, and her body trembled as if in fear. He knew it was not fear.

"Kuhn?" her voice was worse than her breathing. The weakness that came through in that voice cut Kuhn to the bone.

"Yes mother, I am here." He stated as he hurriedly went over to kneel beside her bed. He grabbed on to her hand for support. Oh, it was so cold. Kuhn cried out in his head to do something, anything to help his mother, but all he could was watch what was once a beautiful lady slowly wither away right in front of his eyes.

"You were always a handsome boy Kuhn."

"Please mother, conserve your voice. You don't want to expend too much energy." Kuhn's eyes welled with water. He screamed inside his head. Do something!

"Nonsense, I'm perfectly fine." The last word set her trembling worse and coughing horribly. Tears streamed down Kuhn's face as he sobbed quietly to himself.

"There's something for you," she stopped to cough more, "something for you in my dresser. In the top." She made a feeble attempt to point at the dresser to the side, but her hand fell to the bed with a soft thump.

Kuhn walked over to the dresser and slowly opened to top drawer. There lay the bundle his father had given his mother. Nothing had been taken out, or probably put in since it was put there four years ago. He took it out and opened it up. Books.

"These are father's books!"

"He told me to give them to you when you were ready, but it seems you must take them now." She ended with another fit of coughing.

Kuhn opened up one of the books and inspected the runes, yet he was screaming inside his head not to. Kuhn knew that once he looked up his mother would be dead. The guilt still hurt him so far in the future. He couldn't take it any longer. No more death.



"Too many have died!" he screamed into the air. The air was hot, it felt like he was breathing fire, but he didn't notice it. The runes streamed back to him. One after another came into his mind and so fast that he didn't notice what he was saying. The words came out of his mouth as if he spoke them every day. Though he only had a vague idea of what he was actually saying, every word he spoke enhanced a larger picture in his mind. Wind.

The wind whistled as it hurtled through the trees. Coming from the east, it slammed into the fire, which flared up as if alive. The wind kept hitting it and pushed it into a roaring inferno, but an inferno heading the other way. Kuhn walked with it as now the fire was working its way back the way it had come, but now he wielded it. Still chanting slowly, Kuhn walked out onto a cliff that used to just peak out from the west edge of the forest, his wind driven inferno leading. He looked out onto the plains, and smiled as he saw more orcs that he had ever seen before in his life. All of them stared in absolute horror at what was about to hit them.

The screams of the orcs echoed throughout the night. Night as bright as day, yet all of it was filled with death.



"Twenty newcomers today sir." Kuhn smiled to himself. Twenty was more than they had in a long time. They had come in slight trickle at first, but since the day he had announced he would welcome all who would learn the magic of Kanydl they had come in increasing numbers. Now there were twenty in one day. Only a few of them would actually succeed in their study, but just the idea of more people to spread the glory of what once was Y'Satnaf made his heart jump with joy.

"Very good Clive, but remember that even you must keep up your studies if you want to be useful in combat."

Clive was the most powerful out of all this students, but even he could only create puffs of fire. Yet most of his other students weren't trying to use Kanydl in a combative means. Even he could see the thousands of uses for it in every day life. Following him, they would change the world forever.