The Ranger

[wesaynothin]

This is a short story I'm writing. this is just part of it, I want to see what you people think so far.

 

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The door to the tavern opened. The only one who noticed him was the bartender, hopeful for a customer. He was tall. All of his features were buried in a dark green hooded cloak. He took a seat at a table near the back, hidden from the lights. He took his hand out to beckon the bartender, revealing an old, worn-out glove. Over his arm was a bracer, with plenty of scratches on it.

 

“Yessir?” The bartender asked, bumbling over to the man’s table. “What would you like?”

“A room. And a meal.” The man said in a monotone of a voice. “The meal, fast.”

The bartender bumbled to the back room. When he returned to the table with a plate steaming with food, he found the man un-hooded. He was bent over, showing nothing but shaggy black hair.

“Here y’are sir. That’ll be five coppers.” The bartender bowed, and returned to normal height to find five coppers sitting on the table. The man had apparently not moved. Not one crease seemed different, and the food untouched. The bartender scooped the money up and went back to the bar. The man slowly lifted his arm to the food. He ate, slowly. He never straightened up. Never showed anything but his hair and arm. He moved when he was done. He moved, slowly. Stood up, slowly. He walked, slowly. He covered his face again, slowly. His stride seemed to be him slowly falling forward, catching himself at the last moments. He had a sway, slowly.

“My room.” He said to the bartender when he reached the bar.

“Upstairs. Second on the right.” The bartender said, holding out his hand. “One silver.”

“Expensive for a room.” The man said, never leaving his monotone.

“Yes, well, the war with Amenria is making everything expensive. I have a family y’know.” The bartender replied, still holding out his hand. The man reached in his purse and handed the bartender a silver piece.-slowly. The bartender handed him a key, and the man made a slow turn, and started his slow march to his room.

 

The door burst open.

 

“Halt! By order of the Governor Radbury, STOP THAT MAN!” A guard shrieked, thrusting his finger towards the ma walking ever so slowly. The man twitched.

 

“Heh. Heh. Heh..” The man laughed, slowly, wheezing. The first guard pulled his sword out of it’s sheath. The four guards behind him took out a variety of clubs and staffs.

A ruffle, just a mere breeze of wind, sent the head guard flying into the others. A bodkin arrow protruding from his chest. The man who walked so slowly was holding a longbow in his hands, knocked and aimed. Another man down with an arrow through him woke the guards up from their surprise.

“HE’S IN HErr....” A guard yelled out the door, just before an arrow took up residence in his throat. A shuffling of feet sounded from outside, and steel sliding from sheaths. A flash of metal was in front of the door before it fell with a large clunk, arrow sticking out of it’s heart. Then more flashes of steel, sounds of running, and the room was filled with ten guards. Some wearing nothing but a breastplate, one or two in full suits.

The man smiled. Slowly. He placed his bow across his shoulder, slowly, and unhooded himself. He was tanned, and cut up. Three scars were visible on his face. Not clear, or large, but still there. His eyes were gray, along with deep bags under them. His nose was crooked. It looked like it was broken and didn’t heal probably.

“You shall come with us to trial for theft, resisting arrest, and the murder of city guards, Vael Ilhin. If you try to escape, we have orders to kill you.” One of the guards said, trembling.

“I won’t pay for your deaths.” The man, Vael, said, smirking.

The ring of guards advanced. Vael sat down. He weezed as the guards made a circle around him, and started closing in.

[Malchik]

I like it, though I have a few comments I have PM'd.

[wesaynothin]

Ah, I cant think of anything to write. All I've done so far is about three more paragraphs :( .

[Malchik]

Aha - a very short story.

 

It's always a good idea to rough out an outline of the story before starting it. Perhaps your current opening is too big for a short story? That might be off putting. Try to do some kind of framework now. And ask your character questions. What has he done? Why do the guards want him? What does he want to do about it? How is the story to come out - in flashback, does he tell it to the barkeep or to one of the guards? Is he going to prove to be a good guy? Does he need to redeem himself?

 

And if the idea doesn't seem to be going anywhere, start again once you have used this intro to develop your framework. Not many people have the ability to sit down and write a brilliant story without effort!

 

There are lots of ways to try to overcome what is known as 'writer's block'. But you have to be interested in the story. If it starts to be a chore, you'll never finish it. PM me if you need any advice.