Chapter 1: Intro

-I doubt anyone will read this but I had to post it somewhere, this is a chapter or part of a chapter of a story i have decided to write. The idea came to me as I was sitting, but I don't like my own writing. If someone can tell me how to improve or what they think of this that would be an amazing help. Thank any of you who read this, enjoy-


A boy named Worik, aged around 16, sat on his porch looking out into the world. Around him was the trappings of his family, axes ropes, and saws. A wood cutting family and nothing more, in his mind he too would be destined for this life. Just as his father, just as his brother, but there was something on the horizon that no one could see coming.

Worik sat, lost in thought, as the work continued around him. "Son, are you gunna sit there or you gunna help me fell this tree?" His father, Dotan asked in a joking tone. "Do I have to do all of this dad? I mean I know its how we live but..." "Yes! It is how I have lived,Its how your grandfather lived and his grandfather before him! Now grab some rope and help!" Worik sat for a moment than sighed, "Yes, sir..." He was starting to feel that there was no hope left, as he grabbed the rope from the ramshackle house and followed his father to the tree he planned on felling.

"So wha' do ya think son" Dotan almost laughed out of excitement. "This is what has kept our family a float all these years, an its what will keep you a float." Worik nodded absent minded and only half listening to his fathers speech for what felt like the hundredth time he had made it. "Let's get started son, its time you helped more. Your six-teen and you are strong enough if your anything like me." His father said in an almost harsh, yet gentle way. "Okay, okay... So, what do you want me to do..." Worik said trying to at least sound slightly enthusiastic about the career he was born into. His father smiled, grabbing the rope from him and attaching a rock to it. "An' now" Dotan said, "Ya' throw it like this." He said as he threw the rock high enough to reach one of the stronger branches near the top. "Now you have ta' check your line before ya start cuttin'" His father pulled at the rope, and as no branches fell off he handed the rope back to his son.

"Wrap this around a sturdy lookin' tree at least once, and hold it tight and away." Dotan looked very serious as he told his son the precautions that had saved his ancestors many times before. "Like this?" Worik said looking at his father turning his head sideways slightly. Dotan smiled and nodded grabbing his axe out of a nearby stump and lining it up  low near the stump. As his father began to cut the tree, Worik began to imagine and explore the more exciting adventures in his mind. He had been to the library recently and read about great heroes killing foul beasts and working for the good of all. While lost in his imagination however he lost his grip and time. Dotan was more than half way through the tree and the rope slipped from his sons hand.

The tree made an awful crack and began to fall. "TIMBER!" Dotan cried as the tree finally began to fall under his power. He smiled not knowing his son had let the rope slip, not knowing his son was lost to his daydreams, not knowing he was so close to death. Dotans eyes widened quickly as he saw the rope dangle in front of his face. He looked over at his son, "GRAB TH-!" he bellowed as the rock attached to the rope slamed into his leg. "Help me!" He grunted as he tried to move out of the way bit it was no use.

Worik heard his fathers pained voice and his eyes shot open, he gasped seeing the tree so close to his father and his now bloodied bruised leg. "Dad, NO!" Worik rushed towards his father, but before he reached his father a branch hit the back of his head and he was out cold.

Worik woke up in his bed and looked outside, it was late. "DAD!" Worik yelled, worried that is was not just a bad dream, to his surprise his sister and mother were there sitting next to him. "Whats wrong?" he asked, worried about the fresh tears on their faces. "We thought we lost... we lost you too..." His mother said trying to make the words come. "Me... too?" he was afraid to ask, but it wasn't needed as his older brother burst into the room "IT WAS YOUR FAULT HE ISN'T HERE! ISN'T IT!?!" His brother yelled with a look of absolute hatred in his eyes. "Teznir that's enough, we have been through too much today to deal with any more..." His mothers sorrow turned to anger at Teznir for the sudden outburst. His sister ran from the room without saying anything, sorrow taking her tongue. Teznir looked at his sister as she left, "Kira, I'm sorry... I...." She walked past him not saying a word. "So now..." He laughed a little, "I'm the bad guy?" He said in quiet disbelief.

Nora looked up having heard her son, "You are only what you make yourself, your father taught you that much I know..." She said in a slightly distraught voice, her emotions bouncing all over. Teznir left the room, "I still say its your fault, you little stain..." His mothers face showed her anger again as the sound of the front door slamming echoed through the small home.Worik too confused to do anything else fell back to sleep, not knowing what just happened fully, and not knowing what tomorrow held.

The next day everything made sense to Worik, all of what had happened shown through, and he couldn't believe it. He couldn't believe how his father had died, how he had let go of the rope, how his brother had left and not come back. Worik was angry, angry with himself more than anything else. Angry because he was daydreaming, angry at the library and angry with his brother for compacting everything more. His words were lost to his rage and he ran into the forest and kept running, he stopped a stump deep in the woods and screamed at the sky. He kept screaming, not noticing the slight glow in his hands. Worik slammed his hands to the ground and it shook, the ground itself shook... Fire began spewing from his hands and onto the forest, on to the brush, onto the leaves. "Wha-" He exclaimed not knowing what had just happened. "Fire?" There were too many trees for him or the small village to handle. "FIRE!" he yelled as he ran back to his home, "FIRE FIRE FIRE!"

The fires spread fast and Worik kept running, hoping to warn someone before it was too late. "FIRE FIre!" Woriks cries became more and more silent as he went on, a massive headache taking hold. "Agh..." He had stopped near a river bank and knelled holding his head in his hands. "No, not now... not... now" His voice fading to a whisper, Worik fell on the ground unconscious. His last thoughts before slipping into unconsciousness was if anyone got out and if anyone heard his warnings.

Story ideas

I've always been one to think about magic more than swords and shields, so if I begin a story it will probably focus around a group and at least one magic user. Slowly developing his or her powers, focusing on their story more than the others in the group at first anyway. I would start with a simple accident causing the character to discover or be discovered as a magician/sorcerer/warlock what ever the terminology I decide on would be. They would slowly discover that magic was always just within their grasp and that now it is on the tips of their fingers. Either have an old sect of mages teach this character, or have them train slowly to discover their powers alone and/or with the group of characters to be met later. Slightly odd hair color but nothing ridiculous like, a neon green, bright blue, etc. Slender/skinny body type, dark/faded colored clothes.

This is all I have for now, I will write more on story ideas later when the mood strikes me.

How I write

How does one define their own style in writing, is it the ability to find words, to string them together, or just to have ideas like no others readily available? To me my writing is calming, interesting, and an exploration into my own imagination and knowledge of fiction. The main point in writing I seem to get stuck in is how to describe the characters and when to have dialogue.

The character introductions are hard for me, for in my mind they are and need no description. So, for me anyway, I must find a simple yet eloquent way to describe to a reader what my characters look like without letting the descriptions take control of the whole story. I need a shorter way to describe the faces of the stories cast, that way no more roadblocks would occur before the end of chapter one.I also have a habit of allowing the map of the world to develop, but this takes a lot of time that could be spent developing the story. I need to learn to just make stories about several different locations and slowly link them together. This could make the amount of character descriptions go down as well. I will start by making a villain for the main cast to be against. Maybe, start with only the villain / his (her) army destroying one of the main characters home villages/towns/city's.

Start the story simple, maybe make it about one of the main characters in everyday life. At the end of the book reveal the true plot points of the story and give reason for the main cast to care. Make a reason for them to need this in their lives, whether that be through desperation, revenge, or righteousness.

I could also start on a simple adventure as the lord of the rings series did. That series started out with a small-ish book called the Hobbit, and bloomed into an epic adventure series that almost everyone has heard of. While I don't believe that many would read my stories and I believe even less that any of my stories will get published, this is how I believe a good story should start. With a small unassuming venture outside of a much familiar place, into a dark mysterious land.

 I have no examples of my work to show what am trying to say but, I guess I will try my hand at writing again and see how it gos. I do need help finding my way though, feedback, tips, whatever everyone can  offer.