Amalgamation of creative writing

Something

The Hunt
By
Alex Mattoon
Period 5 Creative Writing

The sound of hooves smashing over cobblestone rang out into the night. Rain collided with the gleaming full steel plate. The feathers adorning the polished helm torn and frayed. The cracking of bowstrings paired with the dull sounds of arrows hitting stone created a melody of disappointment. As if directed by a melancholy conductor, the clanking of chains and cries of battle joined the orchestra. Sharp scrapes of swords leaving sheaths rung out like symbols. The deep pounding of marching boots created a rhythmic undertone. Battle scarred men clad in leather took formation. On cue the music reached a crescendo of clashing steel and falling corpses.
In an instant the wall of leather and sweat was shattered. A towering figure broke from the fray. Charging toward the entrance with immense determination. As if it materialized from nothing, a single arrow launched from a crevice in the wall. The wet sound of steel tearing flesh was all but drown out by the scream of the doomed mount. The surprise of pain caused the horse to lose balance. In a single motion the rider was thrown forward, skidding across the packed dirt. The crunching of bone breaking and cries of pain fill the night.
Dazed, the knight pulled himself to his feet. Seeing his once majestic horse lying in a pile brought him frustration with the failed mount. Slowly limping towards the still breathing heap, he searched for any undamaged items. Contempt replaces frustration as he noticed the scared look in the horse's eye. He found solace in the undamaged crossbow still residing in its case, he tied the quiver of bolts to his belt. With one last glance at the slowly dying animal he abandoned all remaining pity for the creature.
As he began to walk away he felt a dull pain on his forehead. Removing his helm he discovered the visor was badly dented by the impact. Tossing aside the ruined helm he appraised his face to see if any severe damage was done. The reflection only could not show the truth on the inside.
The warm brown eyes, long brown hair tied back in a knot, the stubble of two weeks in the saddle now formed a permanent shadow across his face. His jawline was so sharp it cut the air around it. The only imperfection in sight was the long pink scar running from the base of his left ear to his collar bone. The sight of the jagged strip of flesh caused disgust to cross his calm expression for only a second.
With new found fortitude he took in the beauty of the mansion. The eroded stone walls rose for what seemed like hundreds of feet. Thick green vines crawled up and down the old stonework, as if they were trying to strangle to structure. Windows covered the front of the mansion like an army of glass. Inlaid with gold and gemstones the main entrance shone like a star. Flickering candles sent shadows dancing across the glass work. The movement so erratic as if demons possessed them. As he approached he was able to make out the detailed door knocker. The knocker was made in the shape of a roaring lion. The detail was so great it was as if the smith coated the head of a real lion in gold. In the lions open mouth was a solid iron ball strung on a chain. The chain hung to haphazardly it was as if it was an afterthought.
The door was left unlocked to his surprise. He crept in as quietly as his armor would let him. The halls were adorned with the trophies of a thousand hunts. Head of beasts only rumored to exist coated the walls. Hanging from the raised ceiling was a frozen battle. Held by chains were the stuffed remains of fire drake moving in to pounce on a battle scarred griffin. Suits of armor from kingdoms across the world stood at attention as if they were waiting for their commander to give them orders
In the center of the main hall was the throne. Made from gold inlaid with diamonds larger than kite shields. Furs of powerful beasts created the cushioning for the owner to sit. The seat of the chair was wider than most beds, the back rising over ten feet high. The stairs leading up to the throne depicted scenes of mighty battles with dragons, devils, giant eagles, griffins, and many other beasts. All these powerful monsters faced one foe. A man the height of a house. Clad in ornate handcrafted gold plate. Wielding a sword longer than a horse and carriage. Leaning on the side of the throne was the sword. The giant blade glowed with a red shadow. The golden hilt shone even when no light was striking it.
Dark chains lead from the right side of the throne to a far corner of the hall. At the end those laid a living skeleton of a woman. The weeks of starvation and neglect caused her to lose almost all of her body fat. What was once beautiful blonde hair now matted and cut. Deep beautiful blue eyes now dull and sullen. The fair face of a princess now almost resembling a skull. Dried blood from assaults from who knows how many people, covered the floor. The once priceless dress now torn and ragged.
Finally noticing her savior a glint of hope filled her dimming eyes. She began to plead for him to save her. The sound of moving chains caused a stir in the mansion. The deep groggy commanding voice bellowed through the halls. The half hearted threats it spew brought no sense of anger only annoyance.
The sight of such a ruined person brought bile to the back of the knights throat. Rage filled his mind. The mere thought that this worthless heap believed she was worth saving caused him to chuckle. He gave up on her a long time ago. Pulling out his skinning knife, he ended her annoying presence. The real prize was almost upon him. The rhythmic rumbles of giant footsteps reverberated around the house. The Hunter entered the hall.
The Hunter's haphazard attempt to dawn his armour was apparent. Only the leggings and greaves were strapped on correctly and a chainmail shirt hung loosely on his torso. The color of red shone through the links of chain. Imbedded in his chest was a deep red ruby the size of a man. With enough patience you could faintly make out the pumping heart at the center of the gem. The dazed giant barely could make out the small assassin below him. Searching for his slave he caught a glimpse of fresh blood shining on the floor. The thought of danger crossed his mind to late.
In one fluid motion the knight released the fasteners holding his steel plate to his torso. The heavy breastplate crashed to the floor. The padded jerkin was exposed to the light once more. As if the jerkin absorbed the light around it, the man's figure began to grow darker. The thick cape folded at his shoulders unraveled to its true shape. The cape was made of a tanned leather of a beast that's said only to live in legends. The outer side of the cloak was reinforced with padded leather in a scale design. The inner part of the cape was littered with haphazardly place pockets and compartments. Reaching into one of the many compartments hidden in the cloak the man pulled out two short curved swords. The blades shone like moonlight, the handles accented with pearls. The sword in his left hand was inlaid with pure white pearls, while its partner in his right was inlaid with dark black pearls. Along the spines of the blades were snakes writing in opposite directions. The edges seemed to drip with deep violet venom. The tips of the swords jutted outward like fangs. With determination in his eyes he crouched low.
Exploding forward The Man smashed his heel into the giant's stomach. Using the momentum of his leap he sprinted up the torso of The Hunter. Using the fangs of his swords he jabbed into the shoulder of The Hunter causing The Man to swing around to be standing above the nape of The Hunter's neck. He raised both blades above his head and brought them down with all the force he could muster.
Right as the fangs were about to find their mark The Hunter's huge fist smashed The Man into a wall. Darkness began to cloud The Man's vision. It was becoming harder and harder for him to keep his eyes open. The feeling of warmth streamed down his face. The taste of iron entered his mouth. The horrid taste brought his consciousness back from the brink. Forcing his eyes open he saw the giant blade careening toward his face. Pushing himself out of his divot in the wall, he fell to the ground. The marble and gold floor knocked the wind out of him upon impact. Pushing himself to his feet he searched for his blades.
The twin swords were nowhere to be seen. Reaching into his cape he pulled out a small crossbow. The arms of the device were made of dull steel, the stock was carved out of dark mahogany. Pulling out a bolt from the sealed quiver on his belt he raised the crossbow. The sound of rushing wind caused his instinct to take over. He quickly rolled to the left dodging the giant piece of sharpened metal that was smashing downwards. The massive blade bit into the stonework. Using the small about of time it bought him, The Man ran up the spine of the blade. Reaching The Hunter's wrists he shot the tendons in his arms, causing The Hunter the drop his sword. The pain caused The Hunter fell to his knees. Realizing he has no chance to win, he began to plead for his life and begged The Man not to kill him.
Disgust, disappointment, anger, and contempt created a scowl on The Man's face. The dishonor The Hunter was bringing himself by resulting to these pleas, caused The Man to hate him. The Man now could justify what he was going to do. Raising his crossbow to The Hunter's face, no mercy could be seen in The Man's eyes.
From outside the mansion a loud deep scream of pain rung out like a thunderclap, signaling that the great hunt had finally ended.
The King's Sorrow
The king sits on the edge of his bed with his head in his hands. The Chancellor enters from the left holding a handkerchief.
Chancellor Paul: "Sire, you can't stay like this forever you have a kingdom to run and people to attend too."
King Fredrick: "I already gave them orders! They are to find my daughter!"
Chan. Paul: "I know Sire, but we cannot send our entire armada to find one girl."
King Fred: "She's not just one girl! She is the princess of this kingdom!"
Chan. Paul: "She may be the princess, but that won't make her any easier to find. As I advised you before, we should wait for a ransom or demands before we act."
King Fred: "And if they don't want any demands? What should we do then?"
Chan. Paul: (sighs deeply) "Sire, they wouldn't take a princess and not demand something for her return. If we send all of our knights to scour the countryside to find one person, we will be left defenceless for our enemies to attack."
King Fred: "I am the King! If i decide to send one hundred men to their deaths, then they should follow my orders to the T."
Chan. Paul: "I know that Sire.... But you gave me orders to advise all of your decisions because you trusted my judgement. I know you want to find your daughter, I do too, but we have to be smart in the way we go about it."
King Fred: "The longer we wait the more likely she is to be-----"
Chan. Paul interjects: "Enough! We will solve this problem, but if you act hastily only harm will come to her. I don't want you to think I am against you on this. I have been by your side for thirty years now, and I have been your best friend for many years before that. I understand that you are upset, I really do, but do you think she would want you to let this kingdom fall to pieces because of her?"
King Fred: "And what will the people think if we lose her? After her mother passed I nearly lost my reign! If she is gone I don't have an heir, I can't lose her too..."
Chan. Paul: "I understand.. But shouldn't that make you want to do everything possible to ensure her safety? If you stay calm and collected she will return safely."
King Fred: "I suppose you are right... Alright give me that stupid face cloth. I don't want my kingdom to think I am weak."
Chan. Paul: "Good, now let's get you into some fresh clothes and address your people. They are feeling her absence just as much as you."
King Fred: "Well let's go then, my people need me."
The two exit to the right.