A Place to share/write whatever we’re working on: Worldbuilding, plot, etc

[Elishavet Elroi]

@ellette-giselle @Anyonewhojustwantsrandomness @koshka #@shortstories_anyone?

Here’s a snippet of my practice idea! Like Inglor, the one I shared a mood board for, this is an old character revisited. If this were a novel, this would be your first introduction to him.

The tree Almarrin had chosen in his pell-mell dash for cover was not as tall as he would have liked. Half the branches had been broken off in some storm in years past, so now the entire tree only grew over the road. It had been perfect to swing up into, but he had now gone as far as he could in it. It was barely enough.
Forests had never been his strong suit. Ironic, considering the family occupation.
He watched the brigands pass beneath him, their spearheads flashing in the dappled sunlight. They shouted names he guessed were meant for him. They had dropped the friendly mask they used on the tavern keeper. Almarrin almost regretted the change.
Stirring up dangerous people. Yes, that was his strongest skill.
They knew he was somewhere in the area, and since the river had washed out the road not far down, they would double back in a moment. He craned his neck to watch the last one march off out of sight.
Had this happened eight years ago, he could have clung to this branch and just waited until his father appeared to save him. Tirion was a force no troublemaker had dared reckoning with. No one could physically embody thunder so well as the wizened Forrester. Almarrin treasured those years with his father among his best memories.
Unfortunately, they never kept him out of trouble. Somehow, even though Almarrin had left his home behind, he could never leave his ability to get in water too deep for him. It was an inherited trait, after all, if he believed his mother’s stories as much as his father’s.
Even more unfortunate, there were no mermaids to come to the rescue either. But there was a river.
Quite near too.
Almarrin made for the branch of a nearby tree. A squirrel scolded him as he swung awkwardly across the empty space. His heart hammered in his throat as he scrambled through the trees. He blessed every rare hour he had chosen to play in the trees as a boy. He should have done it more.
He had now approached the strangers’ earshot. Their shouts changed direction and within a moment he could hear them crashing through the undergrowth toward him. There was no time to change his mind. Two angry shapes were hurtling forward. A spear stabbed too near for comfort. The young Forrester gripped a branch and launched himself at the last tree.
The river. It roared away below him now, deeper than one would guess by looking at it. The locals called it the Haunted Snake to scare the unwary from its banks. Almarrin laughed as he plunged.
He was his mother’s child, after all.
He dropped like a branch himself, long and lean and wrapped in tattered green. The water accepted him with a splash of white foam. The world above lost its grip on him. He glanced back to watch eight shadows stretch furiously over the water, then the current had taken him away.
Let them follow. He was ready to try his own strengths for once.

• This reply was modified 1 month, 1 week ago by Elishavet Elroi. Reason: Ummmm. How is this tag done???

You have listened to fears, child. Come, let me breathe on you... Are you brave again? -Aslan

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