Mic pumpkins

United States

Hi! I'm not the best at writing but I love To! I play basketball and read a bunch in my free time. I hope you can enjoy my writhing!

Message from Writer

Hi! I like basketball, fantasy, reading, my favorite N.F.L team is the Minnesota Vikings, and I LOVE LOVE LOVE writing!

Fiction draft 1

September 15, 2020


Harald of Norway is a young man trying to survive the land after his home was raided by pillagers. He must fend for himself, maybe make a few allies, maybe join the military. This is a tale of his adventures that led him to where he is today...

The sound of rain pouring down on me was covering the footfalls of the enemies that had been chasing me through the wooded cliffs near my home. Earlier, my father was sharpening his sword as we waited. I clutched my finely crafted iron sword until my knuckles turned white. My father had been a merchant; a fine merchant who sold wares all around my home in Norway. He was at home, a rarity in times like these. Vicious raiders had put my father at home, after he crossed paths with a group of them from Prussia. They wanted his wares for a ridiculous price. My father had met many people from different countries and lands, but never any more barbaric than those men. He refused to sell his wares for their price, and when the men got violent, he grabbed as much of his wares as he could and ran. Father was close to our home on the outskirts of our village of Qutar when he noticed the Prussians following tow. My dad is a fit man, good for a merchant in a tight situation. As he entered our village, the guards frightened the Prussians off … That was only hours ago, even though it seemed days had passed.  The Prussians came to our house fifteen strong and, against our few servants, overran our home. As I saw my father run for the door, he quickly turned around, grabbing my arm he said, “ If I fall in battle, take this and run.” He shoved his coin purse into my sweaty hand. I clutched that purse now, the fine leather running smoothly through my fingers. 
A wet thud drew me out of my thoughts. “The guards have taken Bjorn and Halfur,” a Prussian raider said through gritted teeth. “If that merchant's boy hadn't escaped us, they would still be with us.”
 A clang of steel on rock told me that he threw his weapon on the cliff face. I was prone behind a rock, with a sheer granite cliff behind me and a slope in front of me. The voices were coming from my left, so I adjusted to the right more. I dared a peek over the rock. I saw three of the Prussian raiders sitting on a flat part near the granite cliff wall. 
“That was too close, Ralof,” said a tall and muscular man while standing up, brandishing his sword. 
“ It wasn't going to be!” Ralof said while picking up his sword he threw. “It was simple,” Ralof stated. “Raid the merchant's house, kill his family, and then be off with the bounty,” Ralof began backing away from the tall Prussian,who was menacingly  walking towards him
. “We lost two men, one my brother,” growled the tall man while drawing his sword. “Olog sheathe your weapon!” Ralof commanded in a frightened tone.
 “Why should I take orders from you?” Olog said, stepping closer.
 Ralof seemed to have gathered some courage as he spoke. “You fool! I led our group for months! I recruited you!” he yelled.
 The argument continued as I watched the third man looking around observantly. He saw my eyes and I quickly ducked down. It was now or never. I heard the clash of steel as Olog and Ralof started their duel. I jumped out from behind the rock and ran towards the Pillergers. Olog and Ralof were in an intense duel, swords clashing and grunts being emitted from their rough faces. The third man stood up to meet me, but he was too late. I thrust my sword into his leather armor, pulled it out, and ran. I heard the third pillager fall to the ground and Ralof’s yelp of surprise. 
“ Olog you big twit stop!” Ralof shouted.
 I stopped for a moment to look behind me. I saw the third man on the wet rock, blood pouring on the slick surface. Olog glanced behind him at his fallen companion and stopped his attack. I whipped around and ran, knowing better to stay longer. I ran down the slope with great difficulty on the wet grass, slipping and sliding alike. When I finally reached the bottom I peered behind me to see if I was being pursued. I saw Ralof and Olog picking up The third man, obviously  with no intent on chasing me. I dashed into the trees, my feet carrying me at tremendous speeds. I broke through the bushes that concealed the opening behind me, where the same men that killed my father now are burdened with a dead man of their own. I ran as fast as my feet could carry me, with no direction in mind. I still clutched my blood stained sword in my hand, and my father’s coin purse in the other. I still haven't bothered to check and see how many coins were in the purse, but it felt heavy enough to be carrying a full grown man. I only had my clothes and a satchel of rations on my person, plus the sword and coin purse I was carrying. I ran until I found myself on a riverbank, Yew trees surrounding me, its leaves slick with rain. It was summer here in Norway, the trees in full bloom and the temperature fairly warm. I regret wearing my summer clothes in this torrential downpour of rain. I was soaked to the bone, and in desperate need of shelter.  I looked around as best I could in the sheets of rain thundering to the ground. The river was dangerously close to overflowing, and the water a viscous stream of rapid currents.  Across the riverbank I saw what looked like a small hut, with  smoke billowing from the top. I thought my eyes were tricking me, easy to do when your adrenaline is through the roof and you're in the middle of a fierce storm. A cacophony of thunder and the sound of rain pounding the wet earth filled my ears. I thought it good to get to the other side of the river to check out the hut I thought I saw. I could recuperate in the shelter of the hut and wait till tomorrow to go back to my village. The only thing to do now was to find a way across the water and investigate the hut figure. I looked up and down the river to see if there was a bridge or a way to cross. The only thing I saw was an uprooted tree half in the water and half on the riverbank. I looked down into the gushing water and realized I wouldn't be able to cross without ending up farther downstream. I decided to walk up the river to find a place to cross. I trudged slowly upstream to the uprooted tree, thinking if anything I’d find a more suitable place to cross the river. As I come up to the fallen tree I notice half washed away tracks, bigger than my hand. The tracks are fresh I know, for no track can survive this long in the downpour. My own tracks already being washed away behind me, like I was never there. I examined the tracks closer and saw what seemed to be claw marks at the top of the base of the track. I couldn’t conclude anything because of the rain washing and defacing  the tracks. I got to where half of the uprooted tree was on the shore. I looked towards the tree line and saw where the tree had become uprooted from. The tracks lead into the tree line before disappearing into the wet grass and off into the dense vegetation of soaking ferns and berry bushes. I turned my attention away from the strange tracks and back to surviving. I looked upstream further, now with a better view. The stream looked about thirty feet across, too far to swim in the roaring currents without drowning or ending up in the grasp of Nokken, a shapeshifting river monster in my village’s folklore. I could always turn back and risk being caught again and go back to my village, but hypothermia might decide my fate if I didn’t act soon. I looked further up the river and saw a old canoe on the shore 



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  • September 15, 2020 - 7:24am (Now Viewing)

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1 Comment
  • Anlee

    ooo interesting! hmm wonder what that old canoe will do.... nice piece! <33

    12 months ago