The Party of Misfits (Temporary)

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Fantasy  |  House: Booksie Classic
If you read the prologue which I have attached it will explain a lot about how I have no history in writing and this was me messing around from boredom, although I did enjoy doing it a lot and would love feedback or criticism.

Submitted: November 19, 2013

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Submitted: November 19, 2013

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Prologue

I am a boy of nineteen years of age, with no history or experience with writing, the only qualifications I have in the field is a lousy C in GCSE English literature. I one day had the most random urge and rush of inspiration to write a story, this may sound ridiculous but I already am just enjoying typing down the words letter by letter, even if this story doesn’t impress anyone I will have enjoyed this experience.

I am in love with all types of fantasy worlds, from Sci-Fi to castles and kings, this story will be based on a few friends I made online and have grown to know, and have had the privilege to over this past year. I hope someone will enjoy reading this, as much as I enjoy writing it.

 

Chapter 1:

The Party of Misfits

This tale takes place in a land far different from that of the ordinary, a land of magic, a land of monsters, and a land of adventure. We start out story in a small Inn named the Greasy Spoon, this Inn stood in the middle of a forest on a road little travelled. The Inn was about the size of a small barn, the sign that said ‘The Greasy Spoon’ was missing an ‘O’ due to the wood rotting over time. The walls were cracked and smelled of damp wood which could explain so few patrons. Inside were a few wooden tables and a bar at the back with a grumpy looking old man sat on a stool behind scrubbing away at empty tankards with a cloth. There were stairs to the right of the bar, some cracked and missing that led up to the few rooms for weary travellers to rest at. The Inn had clearly seen better days but it was a rest under a roof and not in the harsh wilderness.

 Sat inside was a man who looked to be of middle age, he was quite tall for a Human and had a sword by his chair on the left, and a shield rested on the right, he was clearly a warrior of sorts. He had rough unkempt hair and stubble on his face showing he hadn’t shaved in a few days, he had multiple small scars on his face from past battles and scrapes that showed he was experienced and knew his way around a fight. His armour covered his whole body, large shoulder pauldrons, and an even larger chest plate with the crest of a bear standing proudly on the front symbolizing his allegiance to his house. He was clearly a man of honour from looking at him, a man with purpose, this man’s name is Eduardo Dawson, a knight of Bears Claw, a powerful faction of nights who pledge to protect those who seek aid in the land. He had a drink in his hand that most would think ale but it was simply apple juice.

A small Dwarf with a long braided beard walked into the Inn, he was unusually short even for a Dwarf, he was wearing full leather patched in places and covered in tears and rips. You could see a toe through his boots. He was slightly bolding on the head but his big brown beard seemed to be growing enough to compensate. He had an ugly scrunched up face with a big nose redder than the rest of his face. He had angry expression which was made noticeable by his big brushy eyebrows. He was carrying an axe by his side that seemed to be going blunt and a pickaxe by his other side, surely not used for fighting? Maybe he was a miner of sorts who used the axe to fend off wild animals. The small Dwarf looked around the Inn and saw Eduardo by the table. He walked up to the table, pulled up a chair and climbed up it to sit across from the Knight. The Dwarf raised his hand to the grumpy barman.

“Fetch me a pint o’ yer strongest ale”. He ordered in a grumpy voice.

Eduardo looked at the Dwarf with a look of disappointment shaking his head.

“You should cut down on the ale old friend, it’ll do you no good” added Eduardo.

The barman kept no notice of what the night said nor was he interested and brought the Dwarf a large bottle of a dark looking drink that read ‘Brindrik Mud’, not the most pleasant of names but apparently a local special of the village Brindrik up the road to the North.

“Don’t call me old” the Dwarf replied to Eduardo with a grumble in his voice.

Eduardo laughed and said “don’t worry so much Joan you grumpy bastard, you’ll live far longer than any of the others in spite”.

 “And where are the others?” Joan asked.

“Late” Eduardo replied with anger in his voice.

Just as Eduardo finished what he was saying the door opened again getting the attention of the two adventurers at the table. Stood there was a Elven man, naturally tall, young looking with a bow and arrow on back in a outfit that looked to be made of pelts and furs of animals he had hunted, he had a look of trouble about him, a smirk on his face that screamed trouble. He walked straight over to the barman.

“You haven’t seen a pair of old idiots have you?” asked Joelund.

This was loud enough for Joan and Eduardo to hear, their faces symbolizing how un-impressed they are with the new arrival. The Elf snickered and skipped over to the table taking a seat turning it around and leaning on the back looking in at the table where they had gathered. There was a silence while the Elf sat there and grinned for a while, looking happy with himself after making his little comment.

“Surprise, surprise, you’re last Joelund” Eduardo said followed by a sigh.

“Don’t worry guys, I wouldn’t let you two go and get yourselves killed now would I?” Joelund replied looking full of his self.

Joan looked at Eduardo and rolled his eyes. Joelund looked pleased with himself again, his childish nature not fitting well with the others.

“So what’s the job?” asked Joan.

“Down the road is a cave with reports from the watch of people going missing, we’re here to see people stop going missing”.  Eduardo explained.

“Goblins” Joelund added.

He was clearly knowledgeable of such things, having the look of a ranger about him.

“Then drink up that waste you’ve been drinking Joan, you don’t fight as well on your arse” Eduardo said jokingly.

Joan picked up the bottle which was still half full and downed the whole bottle. The other two watched in amazement that he could drink that liquid let alone that much in such a short space of time. The group stood up and head out the door, Eduardo leaving money on the side for the drinks and gave a wave to the barman, who paid little notice to the pleasantry. The party were about to head to deal with the problem in the cave with little knowledge of what was in store.


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