I was talking with my Hebrew Professor earlier today and suggested that I should really put some more of the things that I write up. So why not? I wrote this sometime in High School senior year and I’ve kind of proof read it and added a few details Um I dunno leave a comment if you want. It takes place in my world of Elssia and in the Rune, but other then that I’ve been unable to place it. Have fun with my little red headed elf, Arktil Elendos
The Tower upon the Hill:
The tower stood high up and upon the hill, once it had been used as a guard tower. Another time as a treasury, then a home, but then it had been abandon, and so it stayed for had been for many years. There were many reasons why it stayed so empty. It had happened partly due to the economy of the time declining. Then there was the dragon to deal with. It had come from nowhere and began a terrible terrorizing of the people who had lived near that tower upon the hill. So now it was empty, and the dragon who had been there was now long gone, but still it was said that many treasures existed, for few dare to tackle such a place.
But then she came around to the tower, and there she came to with intentions of both wealth and fame, she wanted to make a name for herself. Her named was Arktil, though many just called her Ark, and she was only one within her family in the ranger guild. (Let alone the only one who dare do work). Ark stood at the foot looking up, at that High Tower, eyes aglow. She was of average height for her sex; her build though hidden was athletic but not overly muscular. Above all were her striking green eyes and her flaming red hair. She wore a cloak of white which covered her down to her knees, and hid all that was under it, she had several daggers on the outside of it, and she had one on each foot lace sandals.
The elf merely smiled softly, readying herself for inner tower. With hope to spring forth that she would earn some sort of fame, even just a nickname would do. One of the few things she wanted was fame and honor. She needed something to prove that she was more than a mere woman. For those men who she interacted with looked at her in her the eyes but not at her figure. Perhaps that was why she wore a cloak so large. She took a deep breath and her elfven ears perked up as the wind blew past them. “Monsters…” She muttered to herself. Then she took a deep breath and pulled her katana out of the sheath, hidden beneath the overly large cloak.
So Ark went into the tower. It was dark, dusty, and filled with cobwebs, and as light peered though the various windows and cracks that had occurred through the years of vacancy. It became hard to see in some spots, but she didn’t care, she could still see just enough and her eyes were quickly adjusting. She had heard of various treasures in this place, and had even found, though much research where the treasury had once been. And in there lay the most important items. Of course it had to be on the top floor, adventures involving treasure where never easy no matter what; it seemed to be some divine rule of some sort. “If at top you go to the bottom; if at the bottom you go to the top.”
Ark took a deep breath and looked around, and soon saw the stairway. The one good thing however about towers of this sort is that each floor had at the most three rooms, while most had only one. So for a tower like this though it was seven stories high, she would be able to get past most of the floors relatively easy. So she started up the first steps of stairs. She passed several floors quickly and was soon upon the fourth floor, where the living quarters seemed to have started. But sadly she noticed that the stairway had to be elsewhere. This floor seemed to only be a servant quarters so she figured should be able to find the stairs easily.
Ark went into the first room, and saw only a kitchen area; she closed the door and went to the next room, and found beds, so that meant it had to be the last room. She swept her eyes around the room once more, and went to close the door when an arrow whizzed past her head and hit the door. Another one came her way and she ducked down, something was in that room and it didn’t seem to appreciate people in the tower. But what it was she was unsure, if only she had been able to see what it was. It was times like these she wished she had bought herself a shield, but of course each time she had wanted to do just that she had failed making enough or had ended up spending it on something else of greater importance.
Slamming the door before her shut, Ark dodged another volley. She pulled three of the throwing knives off her cloak. She opened the door slowly and swept her eyes around the room until she spied the archer. It was of course, out all things an orc. They were another rule of adventuring and treasuring hunting. “An empty cave finds empty soul.” Ark took a deep breath, and tapped the daggers on the door, getting the orc’s attention fully. It looked at her with its sharps eyes and readied an arrow, “I do believe that will not work for you.” she said softly. Maybe even musically if you believe elfves speak in such voices. Then she waited until it shot the arrow, ducked down just in time (in truth luck saved her, she couldn’t had timed it that good if she had tried) and she threw her daggers.
One landed in the orcs leg, the other it throat, and the last in its skull. The elf looked at it, making sure that it had died and then she continued into the room, which led to the next stairway. She smiled, and checked out her gear, pulling out of her cloak a set of daggers to replace the ones she had just thrown and didn’t want to retrieve. Ark then looked up the stairs and headed on up. Within no time she was on the fifth floor and there she reached the sixth floor without hassle. Here once again the stairway had moved across the building. Sweeping her eyes around, she noticed that this floor had two rooms. One had to be chosen so at random she took the right room. That ended up being the bathroom, which had long gone out of use, though the smell remained.
Arktil quickly got out of that room and went into the next one, which happened to have the stairway, and appeared to be a lounge of sorts. As she looked around she also noticed that it happened to be filled with various tables. Some were flipped over, others broken down, a leg missing here or the top splintered awkwardly. But Ark couldn’t decide if it was due to the fact of old inhabitants who had been quick departure. Or perhaps if it was due to some sort having a fight here. Perhaps like some orcs? She pondered this for a moment, but couldn’t come to a conclusion.
Ark took a deep breath as she walked cautiously around the room. She noticed that this room had had many windows compared to the other parts of the tower, so that if any place was to be the start of an attack it would had most likely have been here. Ark leaned against the wall a cool breeze came in from the open window. She swept another gaze across the room, and took off her cloak. Underneath her cloak was fine set white armor. It was made up of a breastplate of silver-white and also a fauld that, matched the color. She wore a light almost white tan t-shirt and tight shorts that stopped at the top of her knees, her attire was complete her pair of gloves. Other than that she had no other armor, in fact she wore more than the average ranger. She took a deep breath letting the air cool her warm body.
Another bad thing about towers were that that they were great for wizards and other old persons who easily got cold or warms, because a tower was either cold or warm. “Warm for the cold ones but cold for the warm ones.” it had been cold and now was warm. Ark shrugged her shoulders and went to go on ahead when she heard the sound of something clawing at the wall behind her; she turned quickly around to see the wall shaking. This can’t be good she thought as she readied her katana again. Within seconds the wall cracked and creaked. Seconds later it blew apart, pieces flying here and there. She put her arms in front of her face to protect her eyes above all else. The wall stop sputtering pieces as quick as it had started, but the dust from it still remained.
Peering in the dust and darkness was hard, but she couldn’t see much. So with haste she decided to retreat up to a higher floor so that she could still fulfill the mission. Not only that, but to have an easier time in a less cloudy floor. Ark ran up the next floor, not waiting for anything, and she reached it quicker than she had all the other floors, and was suddenly plunged into darkness. Where had it come from? She stopped in her tracks at once and looked around her elfven eyes helping, but not a whole lot. She took a deep breath and felt that this was also a whole lot warmer; this floor had just gotten really stranger.
“What are doing in here green eyed child?” A voice from the darkness asked suddenly. It was a dark, snakelike voice, yet even still it had a hint of kindness in it.
“I-I have c-come to get the t-treasure.” Ark stammered. She was ashamed of her fear.
“I can smell the fear in you… tell me what treasure is it you seek? A crown, a sword, a ring it must surely one of these things. Or perhaps some of the ancient text, a long lost poem, or perhaps to just kill me!” And with that a line of fire ignited straight from the dragon’s mouth. Ark felt her knees knock a little. She fell to her knees afraid, yet stubborn, wanting so badly to gain something from this quest.
“I just want something to prove I was here, not to kill any dragons, lest a kind dragon.” She said.
“You are lying, yes you wish to prove something, but what is it child?” Ark backed up into the wall, she thought quickly, should she tell the truth or just evade the questions until she got what she wanted and left. What was it she wanted to prove? She thought of why she was here in the first place which was to earn a little fame and gain something of worth. “I am here to prove that I am a heroine… I want to have my name written down in the old, old legends…”
“That is perhaps a worthy quest, but then again why is it you need fame so much my child? What is it that you are afraid of, that you are insecure about?”
“Nothing, I just want to be remembered, and not forgotten…”
“You will never be forgotten, in time man will forget you, but your family surely they will remember someone such as you, and what about Illatar? Does he not know all?”
“But that is not what I want… I want to have legends and poem written about me, not just a well lived life! I don’t want to live and die and not leave any effect upon the world!”
“My child…” The Dragon said shifting a little. “You will not be forgotten, but you have to believe that you can make an impact, as can anyone who believes. Though it may sound a bit childish, it is the truth. And I do see a future in your life, something is grand is soon to happen to you.”
“How can you know dragon?”
“I cannot answer and will not, merely believe in yourself, and never give in, though the world may crash about you to and fro. Follow the path you are upon and do not ere off it.” With that the Dragon’s voice became quiet, but it blew another stream of fire lighting a touch, revealing a fine and elegant sword. Ark looked at it, and then toward where the voice of the Dragon had been, but she saw nothing. With a slight sigh of relief, but also still perplexed…
Holding the sword close she descended down the tower.