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The Alchemist

The Alchemist

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Published by Jon
a book i've been working on...not sure if i'll ever finish it since it's been quite a long time since i messed with it.
a book i've been working on...not sure if i'll ever finish it since it's been quite a long time since i messed with it.

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Published by: Jon on Feb 06, 2009
Copyright:Attribution Non-commercial

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06/25/2011

 
THE ALCHEMIST
 
BY 
 
 Jonathan Hanna
 
 
The Stranger 
Our Story starts in a little village called Bodstein. It was your typical small village where everyoneknew each other, and helped out in times of need. The buildings were made of tightly packed drymud with hay thatched roofs, dirt floors and nothing of much value. it was a very normal townthere were no such things as wizards or warriors. It was mostly quiet farmers, who only knew of stories from travelers, coming from all corners of the world, about great warriors and wizards inthe local tavern where everyone got there gossip.It was Raining very hard the night on which my story takes place. Most were snug in theirhomes with a warm fire next to their charis that thier families were sitting in while talking andreading. But not one man. He had no family, was very poor, and lived not too far from town butusually kept to himself. His name was Guldar. Guldar was an average sized man, with along blackhair, a beard down to his chest with two small braids in it, his face worn by the sun, with darkbags around his eyes, which were very small, and his clothes were shabby, being made of burlap.Now Guldar didn't even have a fireplace so he decided to go down to the tavern and get a fewdrinks of whiskey to keep him warm. So he picked up his cloak, lifted up his hood to keep the rainand the wind off his head, then he opened the door and went out into the wild storm, not knowinghe would never return to his little hut.*************Guldar's house was about a mile out from town near a wood he hunted in to stock up for thelong and hard winters. Walking against the wind with rain stinging his face, he was making hisway closer to town. Although the rain was thick, he stopped dead in his tracks and could justbarely make out a robed figure looking at him behind a big willow. He Cried out, "Hello!" in thehard rain that seemed to turn his yell into nothing but a whisper and the cloaked figure didn'trespond. Guldar yelled even louder, "HELLO, CAN I BE OF SERVICE TO YOU?" still he did notrespond. Getting very suspicious Guldar went along his way and hiped this robed figure wasn'tgoing to follow him. He kept on looking back staring to jog. Then when Guldar turned his headback to look at the road he saw a person on horseback running on the path at break neck speed,and Guldar tripped over his feet so afraid that he was going to get run over. He went face first intoa puddle of mud. Just as Guldar took his face out of the mud he saw the horseman had just pasthim by a few inches. Heart beating fast he got up from the wet, muddy ground. His hair andbeard caked in mud, and his poor looking clothes just as mudddy. As he looked around him to seeif any one saw him, but mostly to see if the robed figure was anywhere near him. When relievedthat all was safe, then he looked at his clothes with a face of digust. He looked down the roadafter he had got as much mud off him as he could and could see the town about a quarter miledown the road. He moved as fast as he could without trying to jog this time and finally he reachedthe tavern.When he opened the door of the tavern he didn't realize how powerful the wind had been,when the door flew out of his hand and hit hard against the wall and at that everyone in thetavern had looked at him. In the awkward moment he sort of rushed over to the stool in front of the bar tender, Tolmar. Tolmar was a pretty short person, on the ruff looking side from breakingup all the fights that would arise in the tavern and some of them were fought with blades so hewas a few scars on his face. His clothes were usually stained of ale and whiskey. Tolmar wasusually a happy person for the most part however today he was not.

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