Camalot pt2

Ok so i had it all written then my puter ate it and didnt save it so i had to re-write it.. i got the first half of it done, so i figured i would post it since its a good start to part 2.. that and it will give u something to read... i will try my hardest to get more written and post as fast as possible.


Red walked to the furthest well in the town, hardly anyone ever went to that well. Red pulled up a full bucket of fresh water and tipped it to his lips to take a long drink, but stopped. His reflection stared back at him. Blood was caked to his face and flaking from his hair. But that’s not what stopped him, his eyes, once bright green and youthful, now were dulled and cold as if from a man thrice his age.
“It does something to a man you know...” A familiar voice said from behind him.
Red nearly dropped the bucket of water. “What?”
“Killing another man, it changes you somehow.” The Blacksmith said as he walked around the other side of the well to face Red. “Turns a good man’s world around. Makes him colder, harder. It will haunt him every night before when he closes his eyes.”
Red put the bucket down. “Why are you telling me this?” He replied coldly.
The Blacksmith walked over to him and rest his hand on Red’s shoulder. “Cause lad, its better to know what’s going to happen now, then have ot learn the hard way like i did. My door will be unbolted, you can sleep in the spare room by the hearth.” The he started to walk away.
“I will be fine, i don’t need your help.” Red muttered over his should to the departing blacksmith.
“I’ll see you in the morning.” Was all that came back and then he was gone.
Red grabbed the bucket of water and dumped it over his head.

The moon hung high in the crisp night sky. A light mist rolled across the land and through the streets and allies of Vanity. The night was silent and eerie as if knowing the death that had happened the day before.
Red walked through the empty streets, not a soul stirred. He knew not where he was going, or what he would do, but by some unconscious effect he ended up at the Blacksmiths house.
He stood outside looking at the door, knowing full well it was unlocked. Why had he come here? He didn’t need anyone. He could manage this on his own. And yet here he was. He turned around and took a step away, but stopped.
“Bloody hell.” He muttered to himself as he walked up the steps and into the house.

Red swung his axe and it bit deep into the towering fur tree. Another dozen solid swings and this would be the twentieth tree he had felled in two hours. More the\an almost all the other men put together. An uncontrollable power fuelled him.
Morning had been odd, Red had awoken at first light and had went out to the small kitchen, where the blacksmith already had breakfast ready for him. Red had eaten and thanked him, then gotten up grabbed his things and went off to work.
“Red, Red!” One of the men yelled running towards him. “You need to go back to town!”
Red halted his axe swing and faced the man. “Why?”
“There’s a man there that wants to speak with you.”
“Who?” Red asked.
“King Bloodwolfe himself!” The man replied.