The Approaching Storm
Introduction: Concerning Comments, Complaints, and Colors
This story follows the early life of my character, Kartaikian Stormcloud, from before he became known as Stormcloud and before he found the cursed blade Soulsplitter. The story will cover both of those happenings, along with much more...probably. The character this story concerns, Kartaikian, is in my signature. Ignore Kartaikian's current bio, as according to his character post, because this story is meant as a replacement to his biography. Feel free to comment, in fact please do. Don't spam though; keep all comments concerning the story.
Also, if the bright color annoys you or hurts your eyes, just complain. If I get enough complaints I'll change it.
Prologue: Unforgivable Actions; Unavoidable Reactions
Shadows drifted across the world, as dark storm clouds, soon joined by equally dark smoke, crawled over the Moon, hiding its bare white face and shielding its soft glow. Amidst the cold, dark night stood a lone figure, staring off into the deep North. Behind him, to the far South, hundreds of small buildings stood, arranged into a small town. From one of the buildings poured out a dark black smoke, which could at first be mistaken for an innocent fire, set peacefully in a fireplace for the purpose of warming the house and cooking food. However, the orange glow that soon followed, and the amount of smoke, soon indicated that this fire was far from controlled and innocent. So did the cries from the townspeople, which took a few minutes to come to full volume.
Upon hearing those cries, Kartaikian continued on his way into the mysterious North. He walked normally, not rushing, pacing himself for the long travel. Behind him, the fire spread to nearby buildings, increasing the smoke. As the smoke increased, so did the shouts and cries. Not once did he look back. The fire was the final straw, his undoing. The fire was no mistake, no mishandled flame or accidental spark. The fire was made with the full intention to destroy and kill. For that, Kartaikian could never forgive the arsonist. He could have forgiven someone who'd started a fire accidentally, even if it led to many deaths. Intentionally though...murder he could not forgive. How could people be so...cruel?
With him he brought very little. Food and water, whatever would fit in his pack; his trusty recurved bow and all the black raven-feathered arrows he had; and his bright, shiny, steel longsword. If he'd had a horse, he would have brought that too, to make his travels much shorter and easier. Where he was headed he didn't know. It wasn't important. All that mattered was that he got away from his hometown, and the cruel people that lived there. He feared he would kill everyone in the name of revenge if he didn't leave. So he set his eyes to the North, and walked in that direction all night, occupied by only the storm clouds and smoke that wouldn't leave him alone.
Eventually the smoke vanished into the atmosphere, but the storm clouds remained even as the Sun peeked its face over the edge of the world, setting the skies aflame; aflame with no smoke, except for the clouds which seemed to fit the analogy. In the light of day, Kartaikian could see clearly, and could be seen clearly by whatever animals lay hidden in the trees and bushes that littered these lands. Kartaikian himself was dressed fully in gray, apart from his black chainmail and backpack, gloves and scabbard, and boots. His clothes matched his unusual gray hair and eyes. Normally he didn't wear all gray, but he had been in a rather gray mood the night before. Still was, in fact.
The lands were not gray, however. In fact, they were far from it. The grass was a cheery bright green, and the trees were a warm and natural red color, as they were all year long. The bushes were a bluish-green color, and had clumps of blue and orange berries hanging off them. The blue ones were rather good, healthy and sometimes used in medicine. The orange ones were deadly poisonous, however, and used in the exact opposite practice from medicine: murder. They were a rather efficient way to kill someone.
Kartaikian picked bundles of both colors. Who knows what he'd need them for?
The day wore on, and yet he still walked, ever North. He ate once, and drank thrice, but walked as he did. By the time the day ended, he saw a town in the distant West, silhouetted by the setting Sun. He changed his direction and walked toward it. He managed to get to it around midnight. Tired and aching, he leaned up against the wall surrounding the town, and slept. He would enter and explore in the morning. Having walked for almost twenty hours straight, he needed to rest now.
Notes: The Prologue and the First Chapter
Regular chapter posts will likely be longer. This is, after all, a prologue. The first chapter will come eventually, but don't ask me when because I don't know. In fact, the more you ask, the longer it'll take. Okay...not really.