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Syndel's Spire
Syndel's Spire

Introduction
My texts (78)
My series (10)

PHQ-Nickname:
Syndel

Halfquake:
Mania

Level:
74

Total kills:
19,843,348

Birthday:
00th 0000

The Shadow

Mood:neutral
Type:Story
Added:November 20th 2004, 12:35:29
Visits:884
Rating:Not rated yet.

Description:
my first attempt at a proper short story. it was an assignment for school with a max wordcount at about 1k i got a proper GCSE B grade for it but i dont particulary like it. tell me your thoughts.


The wind whistled through the dark and deserted streets of a lonely medieval city on the edge of the river. It pranced playfully through the streets whipping up fallen leaves through the town, and laying them to rest at the waters edge. The air was still for a moment and the moonlight shone through the overhanging trees, illuminating a cold dark figure, hunched by a lantern in the market square.

The figure shook himself and rose slightly, holding up a tattered note to the light. He studied it quietly then quickly pocketed it and moved on to a building on the edge of the market square. He moved unseen from building to building, cover to cover and paused outside a large stone house. His hood slid back slightly revealing a scarred face, aged but alert. With eyes of experience he glanced around as he heard someone whistling, coming from down the street.

Sgt plumb had been walking his beat for ten years. Although the city had expanded around his area he had memorised all the hotspots of crime and unlawful activity. Tonight he had a feeling there would be trouble. The air wasn't right. He turned a corner and came face to face with a plank of wood, after a quick 'thunk' sound, he was on the ground. A few seconds later he heard his attacker grumble. "oops." Before consciousness failed him. The figure quickly ran around to the main entrance of a nearby building, hopefully the occupants hadn't heard the guard.

He took the withered paper out of his pocket and glanced at it again. He had received his name "The shadow" at his graduation ceremony. He had been trained in the art of stealth by one of the greatest thieves in the land and now was one of the most famous assassins in the country. His profession called for a certain amount of class and killing stray wandering guards was not the way you did things. There were more guards posted at the front of the house patrolling the entrance in that pointless way that guards do. The house itself was really a manor belonging to an important lord, some person high up who made decisions. He ran up to the guards shouting "Guards! Guards! There is a dead man in the street". The guards looked up and ran forward, swords out, to fight whatever miscreants left at the crime scene. Giving the shadow a lot of freedom of movement into the manor grounds.

The grounds were the sort of well looked after, mostly for show type of style. The bushes pruned and trimmed into decorative shapes by skilled labourers. The shadow hopped out of the light of the main causeway and into the bushes and crept along towards the house. The house itself was a towering structure with gargoyles on the roof and statues outside the main entrance. Also there was a handy window open on the first floor which he quickly took advantage of. He was in.

He had entered a large room, decorated with foreign artefacts and hunting trophies. There was a large piano in the middle of the room. It was the type of room, he decided, that was just for show with conversation pieces for the rich of the city. He doubted anything in the room had ever actually been used.

The only door in the room led to a grand hall with a main staircase leading to the second floor. The hall was empty, but for a couple of guards stationed outside the front door the assassin crept from his position in the doorway of one of the branching rooms and proceeded to creep up the stairs, all the time under the impression that the guards would turn around, head back in and spot him there, crouched on the stairway in panic. He crept up almost to the top heart beating so loud he thought any minute someone would come out to see what was making so much noise. He heard a click behind him. The guard was opening the door. He jumped the last three steps and pressed his back against a statue. The guard came in glanced up at the stairs but then started patrolling the hall.

The shadow was a skilled assassin who excelled in all fields. He had seen an assassin for about 5 years through which he had murdered, bargained and gambled to become one of the most respected hired killers. From this job he could hope to get enough money to restock his supplies and move on. He took no pleasure from his job but also showed no remorse. The people he met daily in his line of work would also have been the first to lock him up and execute him, had he been caught.

Upstairs there was a corridor with a huge window at the end and doors lining the sides. The shadow breathed deeply, pulled out the note and studied it once more. He moved down the corridor, quickly checking each door. There was no sound from the rooms. The moonlight playing through the window caused sharp shadows to form on the floor. He stopped at one of the rooms, checked down the corridor and went in.

The door was unlocked and he slid right in, careful to keep noise to a minimum. Inside, the room was dark and contained a huge four poster which dominated the massive floor space. He crept towards the bed and found someone was sleeping. He slid his dagger out of its sheath, heart pounding once again. He crept up to the bed and held the dagger over his victim; careful to keep his breathing quiet even through the adrenaline was flowing. He took aim and pulled his arm back. Suddenly the door to a side room opened and a man came out. He shadow stopped dead if he was standing there then he had the wrong target. He panicked and through his knife to the floor. He ran.

The corridor was still empty but he heard the man shouting for guards he quickly darted towards the staircase, hoping to escape somehow but stopped short when coming face to face with Sgt. Plumb. He tried to run but the guard caught his arm. "Gotcha!" the guard said. He was caug

Deagle_Sadist
November 20th 2004, 12:53:53
Woah! that painted a neat mental image!
you only recieved a B for that?
your writing skills are quite decriptive!
i read all of your other entrys and was quite impressed!
keep up the good work and you will be a writer for shure!
have you writen any other texts like a murder mystrey? That would be very interesting knowing how discriptive you choose to write

Syndel
November 20th 2004, 12:58:36
thanks for the comment :)

i like writeing storys but most of the time i feel im copying off other books ive read so i never really feel ive made anything "new" i havent writen many other things and nothing except that for a while now so.... i dunno... writeing is kinda hard cose you need to be original

TheAwake
November 20th 2004, 14:15:02
you just need to find inspiration, thats what its all about. I find inspiration when Im outside in the fields...works pretty well

Syndel
November 20th 2004, 14:16:17
lol no feilds around here... but yeh i need inspiration...

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