Hello, this chapter is something completely different than usual. See, I have like three papers to work on this weekend (though I have finished one already) and need the time I'd spend writing a chapter to work. But I didn't want to give you nothing, so here is a small piece I had to write for an English course. It's a "Chapter 1" of a high fantasy novel. (not anything I am going to really expand upon) Though it was fun to put a slight spin on the generic fantasy novels I am sure everyone has read a 1000 times over. The general idea of the story is that the protagonist isn't THE protagonist. Something along the lines of a "mob character mc " but actually someone insignificant who doesn't turn the heads of every single female in a 5-mile radius. I hope you like it and enjoy your weekend.
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Like many fables, this story begins within the confines of a lively tavern. Warm yellow torchlight emanating from the foggy glass window panes like a lighthouse piercing through the darkness that pervaded the streets after sunset. Guiding the many tired workers of the small town toward the only retreat from their daily laboring, coming indoors to share drinks with close friends during the early hours of the night. Though on this particular occasion, there is a noteworthy addition to the usual crowds of locals that was considered prime gossip as there were hardly any new faces in the remote town. An Adventurer! People who went about slaying Dragons, uncovering long-forgotten treasures, and living lives that were forever cemented in tales and bedtime stories everyone grew up on. It was a common wish or desire to become an adventurer to most people at some point in their life after all.
"Youu cahnot do thish to me bashtard!" though reality was often disappointing, as the talk of the town ended up being an unruly drunkard who found himself splayed across the dusty dirt road after being forcibly kicked out after being unable to pay his bill.
"You'll find I can… I have to recoup my losses somehow." Looking down at the man who drank through the multiple bottles of liquor he had imported from the nearest city the barkeep's face scrunched up in frustration as he trudged back into the tavern whilst cursing his poor luck.
"Ughh…" propping himself up from the ground as he tried to steady himself, the drunken adventurer stumbled down the street. Not bothering to barge back inside and demand his confiscated equipment and supplies back. After all, somewhere in the back of his booze-riddled mind, he knew he wouldn't get it back, when he has been in this sort of scenario more times than he could count he learned it wasn't worth pushing it. He was already going to wake up with a massive hangover headache no need to also receive a blackeye to accompany it. So he continued to walk down the main street until he could find a secluded nook or corner to pass out into, as he neither had the goodwill or money to acquire room and board.
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*sigh* resting the back of my head against the wooden siding of whatever building I managed to pass out on, I sat up as I blearily tried to recall the events of last night. Though I only remembered up to a certain point, I got back to the town after I finished up my task. Afterward, I came back to a small celebration, small places out here in the sticks often blow small things like a simple goblin extermination request out of proportion. Meaning I got a free drink or two, though three four and so on were coming out of my pocket. Because people out here have a skewed perception of adventures and out here no one has heard of me… Quite rare considering my less-than-stellar reputation back in Farwater.
It was amusing to still see some places where I could walk down the street without numerous barbs thrown my way by the public or other adventurers. I suppose from their perspective it must be the most exciting thing to do in Farwater, point and laugh at the guy who has never been able to move up in the ranks for nearly a decade. Sitting at the bottom in Rank-F, a classification of adventurers that are glorified laborers. Made for the destitute or orphans that need the money and can't really find work, which is why all Rank-F adventurers are exempt from guild dues.
'Seriously, every time I am about to make enough money to move up in the world again something like this happens…' slowly walking toward the central part of the town I went back to the well I once filled my water skins a week earlier. Taking the wooden ladle sat inside a bucket of water I greedily drank down the whole bucket despite the slight grimace as I stared at the slightly murky water. The aftertaste of dirt wasn't pleasant after I became accustomed to the purified water of the cities that can afford to employ water mages.
Sitting down on the ledge of the well I stared at what looked to be the town center, though it being empty was quite offputting. Though a quick glance into the sky reminded me that an agricultural-based town or village like this got up before sunrise and would be out working their fields all day before retiring. Which was troublesome, as I no longer had any equipment needed to trek back toward Farwater and I would have to scrape together something before I could leave here.
"And… they don't even have a general store or trading post here, not that I have the money for anything." Poking around the town a bit, I came up empty-handed with what to do next. Usually, I could walk around from shop to shop bartering and upselling my way toward getting decent enough equipment or find smaller request boards posted by the adventures guild to earn money doing odd jobs.
"Hmm? I guess I came full circle." Standing in front of the wooden building, I read the wooden placard hanging above the door. Or rather looked at it, the ability to read was more reserved for the wealthy and powerful. In the case of the placard, instead of the name of the tavern, it was a mug of ale with various grains and crops sat behind it.
"And what is that you're doing here? If you are here to cause trouble then save it, I just got done cleaning up the place and am about to retire for the day." trudging out of the doorway was the barkeep that was responsible for me being out on the streets once again.
"You sure you can't make any time for today?"