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Hello community,

This has nothing to do with league of legends. Just wanted to throw that out there right away.

I write a lot FOR FUN. Key word is for fun. I don't have the best grammar/writing abilities but I'm improving every day. I am more focused on the actual story and conveying to readers exactly what is happening. I have always been a fan of action scenes in books and hate when they are skipped over. I am in the process of writing an entire story, and think I found what I want to make my prologue.

I am a LoL player so figure other players might have the same fantasy interests as I do, so I am posting this here. I am not looking for praise, but the opposite actually. Please let me know what you think. By the way I did not write this here obviously so copy/pasting it here messed up the format a lot.

Prologue

Lerric thrust his sword diagonally downwards through the bandits’ skull, the blade almost being pulled to the floor as the bandit’s body went limp. Lerric would be considered typical for a knight, wearing heavy plate armor across his body with the exception of his head; he valued his senses of sight and hearing much greater than the protection offered by a helm. Etched designs flowed across his armor, patterns like vines winding themselves within the Rohkinean steel. A large kite shield was strapped to his left arm, complimenting the long sword that he now pulled from the dead bandits head. His blade was more of a claymore than a long sword due to its size, but was wieldable with one hand for the nearly seven foot tall warrior.

Blood spurted onto his newly shined armor which he welcomed. He believed in keeping himself tidy, but as soon as battle began, he relished the opportunity to decorate his person with the blood of those unfortunate enough to feel the cold steel of his blade. His knightly virtues were thrown into the wind as he gave no thought about the fresh kill that now lie motionless on the floor. A fallen knight would be more of an appropriate title for him, but a knight none the less. This title had been granted to him by Lord Falkrest of Kargan Hold many years ago. Lerric however no longer enjoyed the company of Lord Falkrest and his keep, for he was framed for raping the Lords daughter, an unfortunate event seeing as how respected he had become within the city and by the entire Falkrest family. His entire reputation had been shredded by the travesty that had been thrown upon him and so he no longer saw through the eyes of a glorified knight but instead a broken hero.

Lerric had tracked a lead which brought him to a villager in the Sorenguard isles, who knew the identity of one of the men behind his betrayal. Unfortunately information does not come freely, and the villager was willing to exchange the information in return for the retrieval of his daughter. The man had explained to Lerric that a group of bandits called the broken hammer abducted women to sell as slaves, one of which was recently his daughter. This task was one that Lerric would have taken on with pride years ago, but he now only faced the direction of finding his betrayer, disregarding the misfortunes of others.

Lerric now occupied the known location of the Broken Hammers, a seaside cave which was a welcomed spot for him. Once a battle began there would be little room to run, which brought a smile to his face as he watched the dead mans surprised and mangled face lie on the floor. Ocean spray crashed into the entrance of the cave, causing a thick salty mist to spray across his face along with the cold sea winds. Torches lined the sides of the cave heading deeper in, providing a flickering, but consistent light on his surroundings. The cave walls were a dull brown with speckles of black dotting its walls which glistened from the ocean spray. The area opened in front of him leading to a larger room within the cave which Lerric carefully proceeded to. Two men sat at a table laughing whilst sharing a flagon of ale. A large fur rug rested under their feet. One of the men had a ring of keys which dangled around his chest, noticeably clanking every time the man jolted his entire body back and forth from the apparently hilarious conversation. Normally, Lerric would have counted the possibility of being sneaky completely out of the question, but in the present situation he felt it necessary. For one he had to make sure he could progress as far as possible without any detection less the possibility of the women captives being executed or removed before he could reach them. On top of this it would be highly unlikely that the two drunken men would have the level of awareness to even notice his clunky presence until it was too late.

Lerric moved into a slow pursuit of his stationary enemies, his armor making metallic rubbing sounds as he crept forward. The men continued their drunken babble as Lerric reached striking range. Amazed at the ignorance of his presence from the two men and somewhat disappointed at the level of ease he had just reached them, Lerric, sword already drawn, stood full and threw his weight into the horizontal thrust of his blade at the man to his left. The blow struck him in the right shoulder blade, almost slicing the man in two. He then thrust the side of this shield into the left temple of the man to his right making a vibrating echo sound as the man flew off his chair and landed on the rocky floor with a thump. Lerric threw down his arms and leaned over the fallen man to grab him yelling “where!”… But stopped as soon as he realized the extent to which he had damaged him. The man laid twitching, head bloodied and concaved.

I need to check my strength… Lerric thought, knowing that many situations had arose in the past where his own strength escaped him. Seeing no need to dwell over an already unsolvable problem, Lerric continued on to a closed wooden door.

He noticed the lock on the door and remembered the key on the fallen man. No need, he thought, as he peeked through a small crack in the door and saw a bandit sitting in a chair who appeared to be talking to someone. There may be two or three in there; they would definitely hear the lock when I turned it anyway. He took no time to consider other options and leaned back, shoving his body through the door splintering the wood near the hinges and flinging all the pieces into the room. Seven men’s startled faces now stared into his. With retreat being out of the question, he used his surprise tactic to his advantage and charged straight towards the man in the center. Before the man had a chance to fully stand on his feet, he had been speared through the abdomen by Lerrics charging strike. He kicked the man off the end of his sword and sliced the nearest bandit to him across the back as he tried to flee. One of the bandit men was reaching for a sword on a table when Lerric slammed his shield face into him, causing the bandit to fall down, his attempt at gathering arms now foiled by his blades flight through the air several feet away from him. Lerrics large boot came crashing down onto the mid-neck of his fallen enemy, crushing his windpipe with a loud popping sound.

Four others remained and by now had time to fully grasp the situation. One of them grabbed for a metal pot resting on a rock as some sort of a defense and stood as far away as possible. The other three had already begun their assault on the mysterious warrior. One of the bandits swung an iron axe with a long wooden handle towards Lerric, which he deflected with his raised shield. The force of the blow vibrated back towards Lerrics attacker, sending his arm flying backwards along with his weapon. From this temporary distraction Lerric had not noticed one of his other assailants jumping at him, arms extended, who crashed into Lerric, wrapping his arms around his neck and causing him to drop his blade. The third man attempted for a stab at one of the uncovered parts of Lerrics midsection, but was stopped in his place by the edge of Lerrics shield thrusting into his jaw, shattering his teeth and crushing all the bones in his lower face. Lerric used his free hand to grab his opponent clinging to his back by the shirt and threw him several feet into the cave wall. The axe wielding bandit now came at Lerric as if he hadn’t learned the first time and swung his weapon towards Lerrics midsection, which was blocked a second time, this time sending the man stumbling backwards. No longer in possession of his sword, Lerric closed his fist and lunged, punching the man across the face, forcing him back from the pain of taking four steel plated knuckles with such force. Lerric wound back his shield arm and shot it forward, releasing his grip and sending a 20lb slab of metal rotating towards his stunned attacker. The blow struck and lobotomized the bandit causing a spout of blood and skull fragments rocketing in all directions. His shield pinged loudly against the cave wall with a loud echo and fell to the floor simultaneously with the nearly headless bandit.

Lerrics strength wavered, but determined to continue located and bent over to pick up his sword. Just as he did this one of the two remaining bandits that was lying on the floor quickly stood and stabbed through his side torso with a dagger in a place near the leather straps that didn’t quite fully cover him. Lerric, full force, back handed the bandit. He hastily pulled the dagger out of his side, cringing his teeth and holding back a full scream. The bandit landed a punch on Lerrics’ face with little effect. His opponent failed to act defensively and so took a dagger thrust upwards through his ribcage near the heart. The man grabbed at the blade handle jutting out from himself but fell dead before any attempt to save himself could be accomplished. Lerric, left hand pressed against his wound now painfully bent over and grabbed his blade. “Use the key” Lerric forced a laugh then coughed up blood. The last bandit stood in the back of the room with the cooking pot raised above his head. This did nothing to distract from the fact that his pants were soaked to his boots with urine, and he violently shook in fear. Lerric moved slowly towards him, his face wincing with each step while blood quickly rushed down his side. The bandit dropped his makeshift weapon, and whined “mercy please!” keeping his hands in front of his turned face. Lerric jutted his blades hilt into the man’s gut, causing him to fall to his knees gasping for air.

Lerric grabbed the man by the neck and pointed his blade in-between his eyes. “The girls” Lerrics deep voice boomed “where”.

The man shivered and a short “over there” jumped out of his mouth as he pointed to another door. “But you won’t be able to get them we have too many” his voice now curiously began to normalize “And it looks like you’re hurt. What makes you think you can actually continue on like that?” an almost un-noticeable smile crept out of the side of his mouth.

Disgusted with the man’s sudden confidence, Lerric forced his face into a nearby table. “I need to know where a girl named Shara is kept” Lerric said while trying to keep any sign of his failing strength from the bandit.

“I don’t know” the man scowled.

Lerric tightened his grip “she has strawberry blonde hair and green eyes” Lerric said impatiently.

The man coughed and hissed “through that door” he coughed again “turn left and she’s the fourth cage on the right.”

Lerric smiled “thanks” and sheathed his sword. A pause of silence went by and the bandit began to talk but Lerric, like lightening put both hands behind the man’s head and thrust his knee into his face several times then released and watched the man turn ragdoll and tumble to the floor.

The bandit was right; he knew he could no longer continue in his current state. He grabbed the buckles holding the straps of his breast and back plate together and pulled them loose sending them crashing to the ground. Bringing himself closer to one of the torches swaying its flame on the wall he examined the wound he had sustained from his encounter. He decided that if the last bandit he had interrogated was right, and there were many more men further in, he might not survive. Having no choice, he stripped himself of the rest of his armor, exposing a long sleeve white cloth shirt and light brown cloth pants. The shirt was torn and bloodied. Tearing off his left sleeve he wrapped a makeshift tunicate around his midsection and tied it as tight as possible. He knew however much it pained him that he would continue silently and quickly, grab the girl, and leave before someone had discovered the massacre that had just taken place.

He moved over to one of the fallen bandits and pulled the dagger out from his chest and slid it into his belt. Putting his ear up to the door leading further down into the sea cave, he heard not a sound. He slowly opened the door and tried to avoid, with no success, the inevitable creek that came with it. Seeing and hearing no-one he continued down the passage to the left, trusting that his intimidation had forced the truth out of his dead bandit. His bare feet on the cold rocky floor was a welcome feeling. He had become quite hot from his last encounter and now would have appreciated the sea mist that he had so loathed only ten minutes ago. He stopped thinking about feelings of comfort and focused on the task at hand, and from keeping himself from bleeding out.

As he rounded the next corner his heart stopped, a bandit posted at guard directly faced him from the opposite wall. He began to charge forward but stopped. The man was leaning, stood upright against the wall, arms crossed but eyes closed. He was sleeping. Lerric approached the man slowly, trying not to think about how light headed he had become. When he was within range he quickly grabbed the mans’ esophagus, pushing into the skin with his enormous hands. In one quick motion he ripped it out from the mans’ neck, and watched as his body fall on the floor making a wet, gargling sound. He continued on until he saw the first sign of his target, an empty, rusted cage at the entrance of a large room.

Disgusted he continued forward until a room full of metal cages stood before him. Inside almost each one was a worn down, malnourished and beaten woman. He stowed his feelings and scanned for Shara. There, he thought as he located the fourth cage to his right. A woman lie there, using her arms as a pillow as she lay curled in a ball, shivering. He was about to make his move when he saw another guard on patrol, then another. These ones, unfortunately, were not sleeping. He sat for a minute and identified their patrol patterns. Confidently he decided that he would be able to eliminate one, and grab Shara without detection from the second guard. He waited until his target passed all the cages, and then turned to head back down the line away from Lerric. The other guard moved out of sight and Lerric moved forward. He was able to move quickly and silently without his boots and armor, moving very fast and slowing down at steady increments as he got closer. He finally made it behind the patrolling bandit, closed his large hand around the mans’ mouth, and shoved the dagger into his back. Muffling his cries as best he could, he held up the dead man and slowly brought him to the ground. Having to move quickly, he turned and walked up to the cage holding Shara. She, along with the other women were in such bad shape that they were barely conscious and did not recognize him standing there.

All was according to plan until he noticed the lock resting on the cages door latch. It’s never easy, he shook his head. With no time to search for the key, he jammed the dagger into the opening on the lock and used the leverage to pop it off the latch. “Jorus what are you…” the second patrol man came into the room to investigate. With no hesitation Lerric side armed the dagger through the air striking the bandit in the jugular. He fell to the ground, unable to speak as blood filled his windpipe. He lie there for a moment grasping at his throat, then ceased all motion.

Satisfied, Lerric opened the cage door and leaned over. “Shara” Lerric shook the semi-unconscious woman. No response. As much as it pained him, and now about to pass out from blood loss, he grabbed Shara, stood up and threw her over his shoulder. He looked around, disappointed that there was no time to help the other suffering women. He had his task and he knew what he had to do. He continued the way which he came, following the corridors winding towards the cave entrance, noticing the trail of blood he had left on the way here and now the fresh trail that lay behind him. He entered the room where only minutes earlier seven very much alive bandits resided. With no possible way he would leave his armor behind, the last remnants of his homeland, he laid Shara on the center table of the room and began to re-attach it to his person. Only taking a few minutes he tightened the last strap painfully around his side, sheathed his blade and slung his shield over his back. With two arms he picked Shara back up, and headed towards the exit. At that moment the sound of panic and confusion boomed from the interior of the cave. With little time he forced himself to continue through the pain. The sounds of footsteps getting closer. The walk back was excruciating, his head swam as he struggled to maintain his consciousness. He eventually reached the edge of the village, and with all his strength depleted, fell to his knees, placing Shara as carefully as he could on the ground before succumbing to the unconscious darkness that filled him.

A welcoming cold dabbed at his forehead. His eyes opened with a blur as two silhouette figures looked down at him. “Rest easy son” an old, recognizable voice softly expressed. The villager whom hired him, Martin, sat over him, dabbing his head with a cloth.

Lerrics vision cleared, he now looked around to a small, two room house. The walls were made of large wood boards, held together by mud and rock. It was fairly tidy, a few clothes racks sat in the corner of the room along with sewing materials. He had noticed the other person in the room, “Shara” He said confused “how are you”?

“She was very weak when you got her here but you did so in one piece. I thank you for that” Martin stated with pure relief over his face. “She took a day to get back on her feet but she’ll be alright now”.

Shara’s young eyes stared into Lerrics “I remember leaving, all the men that had previously torn me down to nothing lie dead… all of them, I thought it was a dream” Her face displaying that she was trying to remember something that didn’t exist “until I came to and my father told me what you did, I…” she paused “ I don’t know what to say Lerric” She stared deeply into his face with a penetrating gaze, then lowered her head “thank you” she leaned over and kissed him on the cheek.

“When you returned the village was so fired up, seeing what this… these bandits were doing that we finally convinced Lord Barrow’s guard to clear out their hideout” Martins eyes fluttered back and forth “an easy task so I have been told after what you did to them” Martin now stared with interest at Lerric.

Lerric slowly started to sit up, the pain was horrific. Martin tried to help him but Lerric waved him off

“How long have I been out?” he asked Martin.

“Three days” Martin answered.

He examined his wound and noticed it had been stitched, cleaned and carefully wrapped. Martin opened his eyes wide “You’re lucky, a lesser man would have died from this injury”.

Lerric, ignoring the compliment turned straight into business. “Now old man I’ve held my end of the bargain, now tell me what you know about this traveler”.

Martin sighed “very well. Two men from the mainland entered the village asking around about crimson reed”.

Lerric sat in complete focus, remembering back to that morning he woke up, stripped naked, next to Lady Anna, Lord Falkrests daughter. Anna had also been naked, bruised around the groin and arms. He recalled flipping back her eyelids to find a red tint in her iris, the telltale sign of crimson reed poisoning. He found the same coloring in his eyes as well, just before the city guard broke into the room… “Yes” Lerric exclaimed “This is the only island in which it grows”.

Martin nodded “they were offering fifty herums to whoever could take them to one of these plants. I approached them and told them I knew of a place on the island they grew. We traveled there and they held their word, I was paid and they left within a few hours”. Lerrics full attention was now on Martin “I need to know, what did they look like?”

Martin sat in thought then slowly shook his head “Mm I’m afraid I cannot help you too much there, they were both fully cloaked with hoods the entire time”

Lerric was annoyed “You’re not helping very much” He pursed his lips “Did you happen to catch their names?”

“Only for one of them, Ronan” Martin answered “Oh and he wouldn’t stop mentioning getting off this island and returning to the Black Stallion for a drink” he added with haste. “Some people just can’t deal with the gloomy weather here”.

Lerric closed his eyes in relief, a name and a place, he thought. With no hesitation Lerric stood and moved towards the door, grabbing his gear that was neatly arranged on a desk “thanks” he remarked.

“Where are you going?” Shara said with a saddened look upon her face.

“I’m on my way back to the mainland” Lerric said.

“It will be a few weeks before you will recover from this wound!” Martin expressed with concern.

“Then it’s a good thing it’s a long trip home, thanks” Lerric said with determination as he opened the door. He looked at martin, and then at Shara, who once again penetrated his eyes with her own. In that moment he felt as though he should stay, but only for a moment. Pulling himself out of the trance, he stepped into the rain leaving the two stunned faces, and closed the door behind him.