“Enter! Welcome to Grivor’s Famous House of Curiosities!” the verbose owner bellowed as Andruil entered the dusty shop. He kept his dark hood pulled up against the winter winds, not that he could feel them.
The store looked as though it would collapse if Andruil leaned too hard against the wooden beams. Vials and cauldrons lined the walls, propped up against worn leather tomes. A curved sword of black metal hung menacingly next to Grivor as he leaned against his drab counter. “Travel far, friend? Of course, you have a worn look about you! Where are you from?”
“Sturkuv,” Andruil said bluntly, casting his gaze across the shelves. Searching, hunting, until…there it was. To the untrained eye, it was an unassuming circle of hide and unvarnished teak wood, but to Andruil, it was the weapon he craved. Its ancient creators had been hunted like game by Grivor’s kind until barely their memory survived.
Grivor caught him staring and interjected, “Sturkuv…so far! Here, a carpet that will fly you back there with a simple rub of its tassels. A trip that took a fortnight will take a day!”
Andruil’s said nothing. He took a step toward the Kalota drum. From the corner of his eye, he saw Grivor reach below the counter. Foolish.
Andruil’s hand lashed out from beneath his cloak and Grivor froze, paralyzed by the dark magic emitting from Andruil’s charred and withered flesh. With his other hand, Andruil summoned the black sword from the wall.
Now unveiled, Andruil the Wraith snapped his fist. Grivor hurtled across his House of Curiosities. Grivor’s eyes widened as the blade impaled the shopkeeper just below his sternum, only to slump as the life dripped from his pathetic body onto the dusty floorboards. A pleasant necessity.
Andruil withdrew the sword, savoring the shlick that followed. As he examined the blade, he decided it would be foolhardy not to take such a fine weapon as well. Smiling, he grabbed the drum. Few of these instruments existed, instruments capable of generating the magic of the Ghost Dance. The Kalota’s malice would return Andruil’s body, and then…well, avenging the Kalota seemed as good a place as any to begin his fell crusade.
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A/N:
this started as one of my five-minute daily exercises, then transitioned into an attempt for a 250-word practice entry, then blew past that word count and settled on a 366-word limit. If you've enjoyed this, please leave a like and an insight below. If you really enjoyed this, tips to fuel my coffee addiction are always appreciated. All formatting is designed for desktops. All my works can be found below:
About the Creator
Matthew Fromm
Full-time nerd, history enthusiast, and proprietor of random knowledge. The best way to find your perfect story is to write it yourself.
Here there be dragons, and knights, and castles, and quests for entities not wishing to be found.
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Comments (6)
Oh effing loved this one, pal. Felt like it could go somewhere. The black sword bit reminded me a bit of the necrosword thing...from Marvel. As ever, love your attention to detail and developing characters even in such a short piece!
Nice!!! Loved everything about it!!!
Ohhh! Nice teaser! I hope we get more!
Definitely feels like part of a much bigger story.
Great opening chapter for a book! I wanted to read more, now that the fight started.
I was sucked into this so quickly I think I might have whiplash! Effective and grounding world building in a fantasy micro can be difficult to do but you made it look easy! Would certainly read more of this character’s story!