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The Nature of Sin

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Cyun

Cyun

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It is 937 AD Britain, under English rule, in the small riverside village of Ashdown-upon-Ryhne. The Duke's castle looms to the west, the oppressing Church to the East. The hardships of Medieval life are paying toll on the villagers minds. Christianity sparks up, creating a divide between it's people.
Murder is committed.
Again, and again. One by one, the non-believers are being slaughtered. Ranulf Odinsson needs to find out who the culprit is to these violent murders to protect his vulnerable father.
Time is running out, and there seems to be no answer... Or is it God?
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{^^}_{^^}_-¥- Novelist ~ The Novelists' Guild -¥-_{^^}_{^^}
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Hello and welcome to my new story, "The Nature of Sin". I hope you enjoy reading it as much I have writing it. It is a working progress and I will be adding new chapters as I go along. Any constructive criticism you give is very welcome.
For my other works, take a look at my Poems thread here: 49-50-968-63739965
Thank you!

13-Jun-2012 16:16:10 - Last edited on 15-Jun-2012 22:48:05 by Cyun

Cyun

Cyun

Posts: 2,389 Mithril Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile
| Contents |
1.1}- Introduction
1.2}- Contents
1.3 ~ 1.9}- Chapter One
2.1 ~ 2.5}- Chapter Two
2.6 ~ 2.8}- Chapter Three
2.9 ~ 3.1}- Chapter Four
3.2 ~ 3.4}- Chapter Five
3.3 ~ 3.5}- Chapter Six
4.1 ~ 4.3}- Chapter Seven
4.4 ~ 4.8}- Chapter Eight
6.6 ~ 6.8}- Chapter Nine

13-Jun-2012 16:17:37 - Last edited on 09-Jul-2012 18:52:47 by Cyun

Cyun

Cyun

Posts: 2,389 Mithril Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile
~ Chapter One ~

The emerald ember luminescence radiated softly, cascading a lush lime blaze that seeped through the pillars of birch wood. It flooded the forest floor in a jade mottled glow, which danced in the shadows of the oscillating leaves, marbling the earth in swirling avocado waves. Jittering blurs of Goldcrests and Cuckoos swooped and fluttered as they resonated their sweet song in broken carols, reverberating between the skeletal fallen leaves that sunk into the underwood. The dead brush fuelling life in an impeccable and flawless cycle, innocent and fair. Flourishing beds of spongy moss swept up and over the tendrils of birch trunk like a creeping carpet of abundance, which sunk in the soil like writhing verdant snakes. Wild bluebells bobbed their cerulean crowns over the smothering, sweeping green sea of sward, and speckled the clearing with rich dashes of vivid indigo.
A sudden quell in noise.
A wilt in verve came swiftly as the luminosity discoloured and receded back into the depths of the undergrowth. Waning musk withered with the fogginess of dusk, dipping the fertile forest into a bathe of grey. It was as if light itself had quivered and cowered away, ebbing away back into its unseen hole of darkness. The approaching ominous entity shrivelled and corrupted the bright bourgeon. A strange limbo between night and day warped the surroundings and hazed the small clearing in an obscure cloud of anticipation.
A figure emerged.
Dark at first, but gradual clarity grew as the figure slinked between the nettles, materializing in the fuzzed fog of twilight. It crept soundlessly through the maze of precarious decaying logs and slithering branches, effortlessly and skilfully, tiptoeing across large areas of ground almost instantaneously. Forthwith, the figure halted. Intense stillness seemed to tense the whole wood in a mute suppressed state.

13-Jun-2012 16:19:17 - Last edited on 21-Jun-2012 18:37:56 by Cyun

Cyun

Cyun

Posts: 2,389 Mithril Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile
The birds watched noiselessly from their canopy nests, their beady black eyes fixed upon the figure, almost hateful towards this alien creature. Minutes passed, but the suspense seemed to have become more profound with time.
The slender figure gradually moved its arm to its back, untying a strap to reveal a slim elegant bow. Tentatively, the figure reached tactfully with the other arm, to collect a long swan feathered arrow, and placed it upon the bowstring; bow aimed towards the forest floor. The target abruptly became apparent. A grazing bronzed doe stood calmly in the opposite side of the clearing, shifting its oblivious head, hovering over some dampened beaded blades of grass. Finally, it had come for the human and beast to do conflict. The figure gently pulled back the bowstring, and lifted the striking longbow to lock upon its target. His heart pounded like a blacksmith's hammer under his thumping ribs.
The forest screamed.
The figure released an echoing, ear splitting sound as the arrow shot rapidly through the pollen filled air, ripping apart floating leaves that drifted in its way, until lodging itself with a gruesome thud into the doe’s neck. It crumpled to the leafy earth.

13-Jun-2012 16:20:02 - Last edited on 21-Jun-2012 18:47:14 by Cyun

Cyun

Cyun

Posts: 2,389 Mithril Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile
The man released himself from the prowling stillness and swept across the ground, crunching soggy fallen branches as he sprang through the clearing and came to the brown lump upon the grass. He surveyed his kill. A smug grin crept unto his face as he found the arrow protruding cleanly from the middle of its neck. He knelt, feeling gently the warm still blood and flesh and bone under the supple, silky chestnut fur. So innocuous and acquitted the animal seemed now, in its peaceful state. The deer’s eyes were popping from its skull, as if it were its soul breaking out from lump of flesh to leave behind. The white creamy jelly blotted with wild abyss navy pupils, staring into a void of nothingness.
Fixity. Quiescent. Moments passed. Hair stood on end all of a sudden, as he felt like he was being watched. An intense urge raged inside his head to wheel round to have a look, as if a lead weight seemed to be hanging from an unknown place. He became wary. He shot up, resisting the temptation to peer backwards. He was threatened.
Noiselessly he gutted the animal, working fast and methodically, slipping pink, hot innards upon the soil and splatting black blood on the nodding leaves, quick as a murderer. Finally it was done, and he picked up the flesh and swung it over his cottoned shoulder. He left the animal’s core behind. Away he went swiftly, looking determinedly ahead. What had gotten into him?
The man had gone. A beam of light shone with a pearly glow through the equivocating canopy. Gradual colour seeped back through the wood as flowers peeped into view, releasing syrupy aromas and displaying a fan of vibrant blushes. The man had left the clearing, and had bled into the earthy darkness of the foliage in the distance. The pure, untainted beauty of nature thriven in curlicue now the inflicting human had drained. Big blue bottle flies swarmed to the broiling, steamy entrails, speckling the flushed slippery skin with flecks of black, circling and feeding hungrily.

13-Jun-2012 16:21:00 - Last edited on 21-Jun-2012 18:52:44 by Cyun

Cyun

Cyun

Posts: 2,389 Mithril Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile
The life had restored, and the forest accepted the death.
Across the arching Ryhne Bridge, the man went. The gushing, shivering, shimmering river ran rapidly, frothing steamy white spume in cross currents and scintillating, dazzling flashes of sunlight. The beams frolicked, warped upon the glass like flow. Brown trout and fleshy Salmon leaped and thrashed between the folding surges, dashing the lustrous and glossy rush with a splash of flushed pink. Overhanging spindly branches bowed into the middle of the stream, fanning lush leaves, baking in the patchy spring sun. Ahead lay the village of Ashdown-upon-Ryhne, as the soily paths metamorphosed into stone cobbled streets, and the bulking trunks dispersed to saplings and grassy lawns. The small timber houses sprung up from the rim of rocks that fenced a crooked spine round most of the village. They seemed to surface from the thinning forest like blackened teeth. Finally the man reached the main gate. It towered above, with sharpened trunks of ash atop. A small man appeared from the gatehouse.
“A mighty fine beast you have there, Ranulf m’boy.* The guard said, nodding at the limp doe on his shoulder. “Your father will be pleased. He’s been looking increasingly thin just recently, feed him up well.”
“Aye Langley, I shall.” Ranulf said, nodding politely, expecting for the balding man to operate the winch. Langley lingered awkwardly for the thread of conversation to continue, but Ranulf stood waiting quietly.
“Everything alright at home?” He said, raising his eyebrows, crinkling wide wrinkles upon his forehead. Ranulf frowned. “The wife’s been asking y’know!” with a short forced chuckle. “She gets worried about old Odin.”
“Well tell her he is doing perfectly fine.” Ranulf said curtly. Langley paused uneasily for a moment, masking a defeated face.
“Right, well, I’ll open her up.” Langley said finally and off he scurried back into the gatehouse, giving arduous grunts from within as the wide doors spread open slowly.

13-Jun-2012 16:22:17 - Last edited on 21-Jun-2012 18:53:19 by Cyun

Cyun

Cyun

Posts: 2,389 Mithril Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile
Ranulf thought about his intentions for this. Langley was never so polite. Then he came down to it, yes. Food for gossip, not worry. The damned villagers were suckling upon the titbits of excitement in this warless land. He squinted as the setting yolk sun stabbed his eyes, peeking from the widening shelled gate.
There lay the village, sprawled on a wide mud and stone flat. To the north loomed a distant church, sat upon a rolling steep grassy knoll, its shadow streaking across the crumbling pathway, and cutting off the dipping sun. To the east the river bended from the south west and arched northwards, running parallel to the main road into the heart of the village. Off roads shot off into cramped alleyways of bustling markets selling dirt splatted vegetables and sacks of grain, a cacophony of bleats and clucks as skinny knobbly goats tried to escape from their tied ropes and knotted leather, as men and women inspected and haggled over them, pointing and babbling. The sheer disorder and chaotic discordance reminded Ranulf of a trodden ant*s nest, as the villagers swarmed furiously, and broke out into bellows of ire as they discovered one less potato than bargained for. Ostentatious and gaudy outbreaks of guffawing exploded amidst the crowd, with groups of bodies toppling over in the dash to get the better cut of putrid meat. As the chestnut chickens bobbed between the kicking legs of small children and the striding people as they paced through the street.
Houses were cramped together in a jumble of mismatch and disrepair, wood rotting and windows grimed with lime. The decaying smell of fetid fish swept from the right, near the banks of the Ryhne and filled Ranulf’s nostrils with its poisonous miasma. The heavy steaming odour of waste in a lumpy trench running through the path and splatted up the fungus walls was unbearable to outsiders.

13-Jun-2012 16:23:35 - Last edited on 21-Jun-2012 18:54:16 by Cyun

Cyun

Cyun

Posts: 2,389 Mithril Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile
Congealing crimson boar’s blood sat in footstep puddles of filth and wet mud or sped along spilling upon the defeated old Roman cobbled road, spreading a leaking in between the wrecked stones, webbing a scarlet network in the road as feet pounded by.
By the time Ranulf had reached his street, the sun had promptly disappeared behind the jagged horizon. Now the sky was of a dying vivid orange, radiating from behind the towering church and glowing like molten glass, melding into the inky navy from way above. The blackness was speckled with a sprinkle of glinting starlight. Dark faces peered behind hoods, as pallid bobbing torches flickered in the shivering wind, cascading shuddering sporadic shadows on the zigzag of walls. Windows flashed in obscure light like blazing orbs in the crude silhouette of the rooftops, and the nip of night air flushed Ranulf’* cheeks and numbed the tip of his nose.
At last there stood his home. A somewhat small but cosy house, perched at the end of Darwin Road, separated from the hodgepodge of buildings lodged together across the row. He knocked thrice loudly with his knuckles, for his father was partially deaf. He heard a fumbling from within, and footsteps hollowing on the boards. After twiddling and clunking of locks, the door inched open, revealing a red round old face between the gap in the wood.
“Ranulf my son, thank Woden.” He croaked, as he let him inside. The door shut with a soft thud as the cold shrunk under the pocket of warmth in the room, radiating pleasantly from the dainty cracking fireplace. “And what a beast you have brought, oh my!” Odin grinned, as Ranulf set the doe upon the table, head lolling over the side.
“I have struck luck father once again.” Ranulf said as he hugged the crippled man.
“Gah!” Odin croaked and batted him away. “Tis not mother luck that befalls her charm upon you son, tis but your own grown skill.”

13-Jun-2012 16:24:57 - Last edited on 21-Jun-2012 18:35:46 by Cyun

Cyun

Cyun

Posts: 2,389 Mithril Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile
“Passed on from you.” Ranulf replied, as he readied the meat. Odin just laughed. Ranulf could see the beam upon his face was a first from his few days gone.
“I’ll put on a boil.” Odin started, disappearing into the other room, fetching a pot.
“Have we got a fresh batch of leeks?”
“Aye, I went and got more from Sigmund this afternoon. I’ll dunk them in along with the rest.” Ranulf smiled as he gulped a load of honeyed mead. Odin had probably prepared for his arrival as soon as he had left.
After eating, the two of them sat before the licking blaze, picking their teeth with a bone. The warmth caressed his sodden feet, and he was soon comfortably snug sat with father. “Langley’s wife asked about you earlier by the way.” Ranulf said, remembering his talk.
“Hmph. Yes, I would have thought Edyth would be eager to poke her wretched nose into my business” The old man said darkly.
“She put Langley up to it; to get some information from me.” Odin looked up from the mesmerising embers and stared at Ranulf from across the dancing flickers. “I said you were fine.” Ranulf reassured. Odin nodded and looked grumpily back into the fire again, his old eyes slit, hidden in black, shadowed in the flickering, igneous firelight.
“Wish it were true.” He muttered, quietly and sourly, into the hellish embers.

13-Jun-2012 16:26:33 - Last edited on 21-Jun-2012 18:36:35 by Cyun

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