Stable
Watching you from upside down
- Joined
- Oct 7, 2016
- Messages
- 413
Here's the opening to a short story I've written recently. I wanted to do something in the D&D/Tolkien style of faux-medieval, elves and magical creatures etc. because I don't normally write that style. The idea was to write a non-epic short story in that kind of world. It goes on twice as long again, but frankly I hate the ending I have at the moment and need to find a new one. I'd love any feedback you guys have.
Rafe knew he was in trouble when he spotted a unicorn prancing nervously beside his bear trap. Its coat was white like a fresh cloud, its hooves burnished silver and it would spit him on that spiralled horn as soon as look at him. The damn elves trained them that way, and you wouldn’t find a unicorn without a pointy eared busynose close behind. The pit trap was clearly sprung and ruined, but he doubted a unicorn would be hanging around a caught bear. A nasty possibility started to unfold in his mind.
He took a moment to find a nice thick tree to stand beside in case the animal charged and cleared his throat. The unicorn’s head shot up, but it didn’t leave the side of the pit.
“Anyone in the hole?” He called. There was a slight pause before an impossibly sweet voice answered.
“Oh thank goodness! Someone’s here.” Great. He’d caught an elf. The day was going downhill.
“What did you jump into my bear trap for?” He yelled back. It was ruined now, and he’d most likely have to dig another pit if he wanted to catch the animal that had been raiding his stores. Rafe wasn’t as young as he used to be and his back was still twinging from this dig.
“This is yours?” The sweet voice was angry now. “You murderous…” A ball of unpleasant-looking purple energy lofted rapidly out of the pit before turning on a right angle and shooting straight at him. The tarnished old amulet he wore warmed against his chest as it shunted the spell off to his left, where it splashed against the tree. It left a patch of mouldering, rotted bark.
“Well, I guess you can pull yourself out then you gods-damned hypocrite!” Rafe turned and strode off back to his cottage.
His self-righteous anger cooled off a little as he reflected on who had dug the hole the elf was stuck in, but it wasn’t until that evening when the wind picked up and the heavy clouds started rolling in that he decided to go back. He didn’t like to think about the survival prospects of anyone stuck in a hole on a cold, stormy night. Unfortunately the unicorn, and by extension the elf, was still there.
“Storm’s coming, elf. You want out or are you going to curse at me again?” Rafe said.
“Just go away. My people will come and find me soon enough.” The elf sounded tired and resigned. As if called by name, the first few heavy drops started thudding into the leaves and dirt around them.
“If I leave you here now you’ll be up to your armpits in cold mud before nightfall. Get your animal out of the way, I’ve got a rope and I’m going to pull you out.” Rafe started making his way towards the trap, carefully keeping it between him and the unicorn. The voice called out some sing-song words in elvish, and although it looked at him suspiciously the unicorn kept to its side of the pit.
“I don’t know how much I can help you. I believe my leg is broken.” The elf said as Raph lowered the rope into the hole.
“Just tie the rope under your shoulders.” He replied. “I’ll do the rest.”
The rain was coming down in earnest by the time the elf signalled it was ready. Before he had gone more than a few steps Rafe slipped in the mud, landing on his face, and the elf screamed from the pit as it was no doubt dropped back onto a broken leg. When he climbed back to his feet he found the wet, glistening point of the unicorn’s horn in front of his chest.
“Don’t threaten me you damn beast! Try being useful instead.” Amazingly the animal dropped its head, looped the rope around its horn and turned resolutely away from the hole. Rafe grabbed the rope again and together they hauled a whimpering, soaked figure out of the bear trap. He hadn’t seen an elf in years, but they were normally aloof, ethereal and elegant. Collapsed into a soaking muddy heap the elf before him seemed tiny and pitiable. The broken bones looked particularly out of place in the elf’s narrow leg, more worryingly the whimpering had stopped.
The unicorn had dumped the rope and now stood over the elf, nuzzling its arm gently. Rafe gently picked up the limp figure – he started to assume the elf was male now he looked closer, but it was very hard to tell - and draped him over the unicorn’s back. The unicorn kept a suspicious eye on Rafe, but it allowed all of this without complaint.
“There, he’s out. You can come to my home and get dry or you can trot off your own way.” He said, feeling silly for talking to an animal. Rafe didn’t know whether to be pleased or annoyed when it started to follow.
Rafe’s home was a single-roomed woodsman’s cottage with a thatched roof. The unicorn, being shorter and more slender than a horse, was able to fit through the door despite the passenger draped over its back. It looked around at the messed blankets and furs, piled up dirty dishes and other signs of the bachelor life and snorted horsily.
“And I’m sure you clean your own stall out by yourself.” He muttered, feeling judged. The unicorn didn’t respond.
Rafe stoked the fire up and placed the elf by it in the only comfy chair to dry off. Then he used the mercy of unconsciousness to set the elf’s leg and splinted it as best he could, with the unicorn peering critically over his shoulder the whole time. He described what he was doing to the watching unicorn, which he decided to call Blossom, although it probably had some ridiculous name in Elvish.
Transferring the elf to his bed, Rafe gave Blossom an apple, settled down in the chair and fell asleep watching the unicorn nibble around the core.
Rafe knew he was in trouble when he spotted a unicorn prancing nervously beside his bear trap. Its coat was white like a fresh cloud, its hooves burnished silver and it would spit him on that spiralled horn as soon as look at him. The damn elves trained them that way, and you wouldn’t find a unicorn without a pointy eared busynose close behind. The pit trap was clearly sprung and ruined, but he doubted a unicorn would be hanging around a caught bear. A nasty possibility started to unfold in his mind.
He took a moment to find a nice thick tree to stand beside in case the animal charged and cleared his throat. The unicorn’s head shot up, but it didn’t leave the side of the pit.
“Anyone in the hole?” He called. There was a slight pause before an impossibly sweet voice answered.
“Oh thank goodness! Someone’s here.” Great. He’d caught an elf. The day was going downhill.
“What did you jump into my bear trap for?” He yelled back. It was ruined now, and he’d most likely have to dig another pit if he wanted to catch the animal that had been raiding his stores. Rafe wasn’t as young as he used to be and his back was still twinging from this dig.
“This is yours?” The sweet voice was angry now. “You murderous…” A ball of unpleasant-looking purple energy lofted rapidly out of the pit before turning on a right angle and shooting straight at him. The tarnished old amulet he wore warmed against his chest as it shunted the spell off to his left, where it splashed against the tree. It left a patch of mouldering, rotted bark.
“Well, I guess you can pull yourself out then you gods-damned hypocrite!” Rafe turned and strode off back to his cottage.
His self-righteous anger cooled off a little as he reflected on who had dug the hole the elf was stuck in, but it wasn’t until that evening when the wind picked up and the heavy clouds started rolling in that he decided to go back. He didn’t like to think about the survival prospects of anyone stuck in a hole on a cold, stormy night. Unfortunately the unicorn, and by extension the elf, was still there.
“Storm’s coming, elf. You want out or are you going to curse at me again?” Rafe said.
“Just go away. My people will come and find me soon enough.” The elf sounded tired and resigned. As if called by name, the first few heavy drops started thudding into the leaves and dirt around them.
“If I leave you here now you’ll be up to your armpits in cold mud before nightfall. Get your animal out of the way, I’ve got a rope and I’m going to pull you out.” Rafe started making his way towards the trap, carefully keeping it between him and the unicorn. The voice called out some sing-song words in elvish, and although it looked at him suspiciously the unicorn kept to its side of the pit.
“I don’t know how much I can help you. I believe my leg is broken.” The elf said as Raph lowered the rope into the hole.
“Just tie the rope under your shoulders.” He replied. “I’ll do the rest.”
The rain was coming down in earnest by the time the elf signalled it was ready. Before he had gone more than a few steps Rafe slipped in the mud, landing on his face, and the elf screamed from the pit as it was no doubt dropped back onto a broken leg. When he climbed back to his feet he found the wet, glistening point of the unicorn’s horn in front of his chest.
“Don’t threaten me you damn beast! Try being useful instead.” Amazingly the animal dropped its head, looped the rope around its horn and turned resolutely away from the hole. Rafe grabbed the rope again and together they hauled a whimpering, soaked figure out of the bear trap. He hadn’t seen an elf in years, but they were normally aloof, ethereal and elegant. Collapsed into a soaking muddy heap the elf before him seemed tiny and pitiable. The broken bones looked particularly out of place in the elf’s narrow leg, more worryingly the whimpering had stopped.
The unicorn had dumped the rope and now stood over the elf, nuzzling its arm gently. Rafe gently picked up the limp figure – he started to assume the elf was male now he looked closer, but it was very hard to tell - and draped him over the unicorn’s back. The unicorn kept a suspicious eye on Rafe, but it allowed all of this without complaint.
“There, he’s out. You can come to my home and get dry or you can trot off your own way.” He said, feeling silly for talking to an animal. Rafe didn’t know whether to be pleased or annoyed when it started to follow.
Rafe’s home was a single-roomed woodsman’s cottage with a thatched roof. The unicorn, being shorter and more slender than a horse, was able to fit through the door despite the passenger draped over its back. It looked around at the messed blankets and furs, piled up dirty dishes and other signs of the bachelor life and snorted horsily.
“And I’m sure you clean your own stall out by yourself.” He muttered, feeling judged. The unicorn didn’t respond.
Rafe stoked the fire up and placed the elf by it in the only comfy chair to dry off. Then he used the mercy of unconsciousness to set the elf’s leg and splinted it as best he could, with the unicorn peering critically over his shoulder the whole time. He described what he was doing to the watching unicorn, which he decided to call Blossom, although it probably had some ridiculous name in Elvish.
Transferring the elf to his bed, Rafe gave Blossom an apple, settled down in the chair and fell asleep watching the unicorn nibble around the core.
Fits quite nicely into the former, nothing like the latter.
