The Story I’m Editing now ‘The Town of the Mountain’

Hello

These are the first 729 (exactly) words of the first chapter of a story I started after starting another story that got bigger and bigger due to the amount of ideas I was having. I wanted to write a short story or novella just so I had a full one I could add to and mess around with. Forgive any grammatical errors but please tell me about them. If that makes sense.

Your comments are welcome.

The roar made him spin round in anticipation. It was as sickening as he was used to, but like most that have come before, the bugbear responsible didn’t appear.

There’s not much you can say about him, but the one thing most say is that he’s aware. He won’t let much get past him. He is Markus ‘Trident’ Groningen. The things he’s done whilst being so aware were and are to this day greatly appreciated by the townsfolk. This small town is located at the foot of a huge mountain that reaches beyond the clouds and the top of which has never been seen.

‘Trident’, which was the town’s and his fellow hunters nickname for him, was so called because he hunts with a wooden handled Trident with three extremely lethal prongs at its end. The considerable weight this creates doesn’t stop him from handling it with same ease as the wind would handle a stray leaf. He is six foot two inches tall and there isn’t an ounce of fat to be found on him. He along with each of the other hunters has a weapon of choice to the bugbears that ranged from gigantic in size to at their smallest man sized. None of the hunters was recognised officially as the leader but ‘Trident’ was treated as such within the five.

The hunters had only a few things in common, these included wearing the same smart shirts and cotton twill pants along with any footwear of their choosing. Eriden Grainger, who has the distinction of being the only woman hunter to date, stood at five foot eleven inch with a considerable amount of muscle herself. Though this muscle had been toned over the years so she kept her womanly figure and never strayed into the ‘manly woman’ category. I’m sure you know one of these and there not the best to look at.  She carried two pistols which matched that of any gunslinger to have ever graced the Wild West. Although I doubt many of them wore a corset. They all covered up with the standard long dark brown coat which was closer to black but patches of the coats still remained there natural color. The shirt, pants and long coat combination was standard for a hunter and it always allowed them to keep their weapons concealed from the bugbears. The bugbears knew the hunters by their clothes more so than there facial features and in some instances a bugbear has been lured by a coat being put around something that resembled a hunter from the back and lured into a trap by the coats owner.

As we join ‘Trident’ we find him doing his daily rounds. Each hunter is required to walk the distance of the forest in search of bugbears each day alternately. Bugbears came out at night which was when all the hunters were scheduled to patrol the forest in shifts. Two would go on patrol for the night and then the next night another two would patrol. The remaining hunter would hunt with the Sheriff of the town the next night then they would switch partners the next night and so on.

‘Come back in Trident. Seven times is enough for any man.  Even one as tireless as yourself.’ Stuart shouted from the edge of the forest. Stuart Pinder-Marsh carried a fencing sword at one side of his six foot muscular frame and the other side was accompanied by a great sword who’s blade stretched four and half feet and was three inches wide. It was the sharpest sword in the town and has been called a contender for sharpest in the country by some travelling blacksmiths and sword experts. His muscles are his pride and have enabled him to handle his great sword with ease just like Markus can handle his Trident. He now held the less taxing two jugs of water for him and for the now tried Markus. Marcus had reached the edge of the forest but was looking back one final time. After a few more minutes of cautious glances towards the darker parts of the forest, he turned and walked towards him. Stuart in turn held up the full jug of water which was swiped from his hand quickly.

‘Polite as usual.’ Stuart muttered.

‘I heard that.’ Replied Markus as he took a large gulp of his jug.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s