Tall Tales and Shiny Stories

By Clayton Blanchard

This is a simple volume of short stories by author Clayton Blanchard. They primarily deal with fantasy and vary in length. This volume is intended to be a quick read.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Clayton Blanchard
• Release date: Mar 28, 2014
• ISBN: 9781311393005

Clayton Blanchard

Just an average guy who likes to read, write, and play a ton of video games!

Book preview

Tall Tales and Shiny Stories

By Clayton Blanchard

Published by Clayton Blanchard at Smashwords

Copyright 2014 Clayton Blanchard

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. This book remains the copyrighted property of the author, and may not be redistributed to others for commercial or non-commercial purposes. If you would like to share this book with another person, please have them download their own copy for tracking purposes.

Table of Contents

1) Authors Foreward

2) Lost Tomb of Elmir

3) A Darkest Knight: Battle at Cabel Mine

4) Waver: Cold Shoulder

5) The Dark Carnival

Authors Foreward

First and foremost, thanks for taking a chance on my work here. I have been writing, on and off, for years. Most of the time I simply write reviews and other non fiction informative things on my personal blogs, generally about the things I enjoy such as gaming, books, movies, ect.

However, I have long wanted to get into actual writing. I find myself drawn to writing short stories about characters and their adventures. Simple things. I have no want or need to really write a novel, as it were.

Contained herein are the 4 stories I still have from the last time I wrote. Most of my stories end up destroyed by me simply because I am a harsh critic. Further, I will warn that these stories are not proofread and my personal grasp of grammar is pretty bad. I tend to write as if I was telling a story in person.

Hopefully you will find the stories enjoyable. Thanks again, and feel free to visit my personal website.

Clayton

The Lost Tomb of Elmir

This is an excerpt from the journal of famed explorer and treasure hunter Argoth Steelsoul. I do not confirm or deny the validity of anything written here, nor has anything been altered or omitted

A single cricket chirp pierced the stillness of the night and I paused. Not out of fear, mind you. I knew what a cricket sounded like. But rather out of caution. I was on the edge of the map as it were, in an area left alone for supposedly centuries, and I was not certain what that chirp could attract. Given that until then the only sound was that of the wind, I wondered if it was even a normal cricket.

Through the trees and the gloom I could see my goal ahead of me. A deep black cavern. The enchantment I had cast on myself as night had fallen, a simple Vision Spell, was still active, heightening my sense of vision so the little bit of light from the moon was enhanced to that of a torch. The trees were close, and the branches felt as if they were reaching out to me. All in all a very unnerving feeling.

I stopped and sat on a rock for a moment, staring at the opening through the leaves and the subtle moonlight. Nothing stirred in the forest, no sound, no motion. Nothing.

Several months earlier I had ran across an old book detailing information about the lost kingdom of Elimr. In that tome it had hinted at a hidden crypt, deep in the Unnamed Lands, where one could find the resting place of the first King of Elimr (and all his treasure of course). Originally I had scoffed at such a notion, but I am nothing if not curious. So I loaded up on provisions, grabbed my gear, and headed out into the wilds.

And here I was, staring at the opening to a cavern, which according to the book led to the entrance to the crypt. I pondered setting up camp for the night and making a go at it in the morning, but decided against it as my burning curiosity made it hard to stay settled. Perhaps if I had waited till morning I could have avoided some of the unpleasantness that was to follow.

The moon hung in the night sky, only a sliver visible, bathing the open ground between the edge of the forest and the cave in soft silver light. I stood hidden at the edge of the forest, trying to figure out how to cross without being seen. It then occurred to me that I was probably being a bit too cautious.

Argoth, I muttered to myself, stop being a twit and get over to that cavern! I admit I talk to myself sometimes. Doesn’t everyone?

Confident that I was safe for the moment, I strode out into the clearing and made my way to the cave. It was DARK. I mean that sort of absolute darkness that seems to absorb light. Sadly, this meant that the enchantment which allowed me to see in low light would be of no help in that deep darkness. I stopping concentrating and felt the enchantment drop and the world got dimmer. With that, I stepped into the blackness.

To say it was black would be an understatement. This is what I imagine the color black to be in its purest form. It’s what I imagine being blind must be like. It made the hair on my arms stand up and I knew it was nothing natural. I have always had a sense for magic. As I had no walking stick, I unhooked my scabbard from my belt and began to use it to feel my way forward. Several times this saved me from falling into pits, and once from running headfirst into what appeared to be a column or pillar of some sort. The path seemed to twist and turn, and the only sound in that blackness was the scuffing of my scabbard on the ground and the thumping of my boots.

After what felt like fifteen minutes of stumbling around in the dark, I suddenly stepped out of the blackness and into a well lit antechamber. The transition was very sudden. It threw me momentarily off balance and I had to steady myself on a nearby wall. After a moment of rest I straightened, buckled my scabbard back on, and began to take stock of my surroundings.

The first thing to catch my attention was the walls. This makes sense as I was touching them at the time of course. The walls were smooth, but not that rough smoothness that comes from the passing of time and the action of water wearing it down. They were smooth in the way that only tools can do, perfect and unblemished. Adorning the walls were what appeared to be murals. Once they would have been bright and cheerful, a riot of color. Now however they were very faded and I could barely make out a few of the scenes. A man with a sword and crown leading a charge against…something. Another with what seemed like the same man sitting on a throne, this time with a scepter, presiding over a trial? I couldn’t really tell. And many more that I could not make out.

Next my eyes fell on the other side of the chamber, where a set of double iron doors with an ornate lock stood. Next to the pair of doors, on either side, were globes that glowed with a bright unwavering light. As I