This is my first attempt as Fantasy. The story is written. I am just looking for some feedback.
The white-hot bolt of lightning streaked across the dark, raging, stormy sky. The loud booming clap of thunder rolled after illuminating the wooden ship, rocking violently in the white-capped waves. The white sails ripping in tatters as the angry waves buffeted the ship. The short, barefooted captain dressed in black with a double gold hoop earring. Lodged in his left ear grabbed onto the thick mast of the shaking ship. Watching a wood barrel rolling across the deck. Smashing through the wood rail falling into the sea, bobbing among the angry white-capped waves. Pointing at a young man in light cotton pants and shirt wearing a brown cloak. Stumbling across the deck, grabbing the ropes hanging on the mast. Steadying himself, looking at the captain pointing up the mast.
“Go up help the look out,” the captain started yelling over the storm at the man.
“Aye Captain,” the man called back, reaching for the rope ladder lurching with the waves crashing into the ship. Climbing the rope in the pelting rain, he started crawling into the wood circle of the lookout post near the top of the mast. Nodding at the man holding on to the mast as the ship rocked violently.
Clinging to the mast, standing in the crow’s nest. The young man grabbing at his brown cloak. The wind ripping it from his body, sending the cloak flying into the darkness. Franticly wiping the rainwater out of his brown eyes, scanning the darkness. Meeting the scared look of the older man standing on the other side of the circular basket. Looking around, his brown eyes spotting a light starting blazing left of the ship.
The ship, bucking and rolling as the rain matted his Brown hair to his head. Another bright white flash of lightning ripped across the sky as the young man squinted, seeing the shadows lit up in front of him.
“Rocks,” he yelled, leaning over the edge of the crow’s nest while still holding onto the mast. The older man moving for a better look.
“Rocks,” he yelled again, trying to catch the attention of the people scrambling on the rain slick wood deck. A white-hot bolt of lightning impacting with a blast on the mast, resulting in an explosion of wood and splinters. As the mast started tilting. Sending the older man screaming, falling from the basket.
Looking down, barely spotting the commotion below him on deck, not sure if they heard him. The first jarring crunch of splintering wood rang out through the ship as the crow’s nest shuttered. Spinning violently, the young man gripped the mast. The sound of crunching wood ripping apart by the jagged rocks reached the young man’s ears as the ship lurched, dashing him against the side of the crow’s nest.
“Dammit,” he cursed, trying to steady himself on bare feet. Getting thrown back onto the wood floor of the crow’s nest as the ship shuttered again, tilting at an obscene angle.
Taking in the yells and shouts of the crew below him, overridden by the sounds of splintering wood as the ship lurched violently. A large snapping sound caught his ear as the crow’s nest broke free of the mast, sending him flying into the icy waters of the dark ocean. Struggling in the light cotton shirt and pants, he broke the surface of the raging ocean spitting out a mouth full of saltwater.
Over the howling wind and screams coming from the ship. He heard the waves breaking on the shore. A flash of lightning illuminated the shoreline. A bright fire burning against the rain on it. Dark shadows moving around the fire. Struggling against the waves swimming for the shore buffeted by the rough sea. His arms burning as he spit out the salty water burning his throat. Feeling a wave violently hit him as pain shot through his left leg, feeling the impact on something hard grabbing at the rocks that he bounced up against. Struggling, managing to pull himself onto the sandy shore out of the lapping waves’ reach. Spitting out salty water, stopping to see a dark shadow of a large dog running up a slope morphing into an elongated shadow with a large neck and large wings sprouting from the sides to flap rising off into the darkness.
His hand reaching down to feel the warmth of his blood leaking from his torn leg as lightning ripped across the sky. Lighting up several other members of the crew of his ship, pulling themselves ashore. Dark figures detached themselves from the fire holding torches. Turning, pulling at his ripped shirt. Freeing cloth strips to bind his leg spotting the flickering torchlights in the rain approaching.
Help, he thought, seeing the first of the torchlight carrying people reach the first of his crew.
His face growing in horror seeing the sword appear slashing down, killing the struggling crew member emerging from the water. The water foaming red around their bodies. Looking around, seeing more torches appearing as screams of his shipmates started breaking over the storm. In a flash of lightning, he caught sight of the enormous stone blocks of a fortress up the sloping hill. The shadow ran up. Struggling with his damaged leg, he started moving up the slippery grass sloped hill towards the keep.
Surely the Lord of the fortress will stop this, he thought, fighting against the wind and rain, the screams of the dying spurring him on.
“Look escaping up the hill,” a voice from the beach yelled. Spurring on his effort, his leg hurting him as he continued approaching the stone blocks. A bolt of lightning flashing across the sky to show the keep in ruins.
Turning, seeing the torch lights stopping about halfway up the hill, none of them daring to go further. Turning looking at the remains of the stone tower, the wood door sitting splintered on rusted metal hinges, allowing him entrance. His face sinking at seeing the ruins. Turning spotting the burning torches moving down the hill back to the beach.
The unknown in front of me death behind me, he thought, moving for the door. The unknown it is, he thought, moving into the door.
Taking in the shattered room, his hope sank. He could see it was roughly fifteen feet in diameter. A spiral staircase leading up was now a small water feature as water cascaded down the steps from the upper levels, flowing out the open door. The room dry where he was standing near stairs leading down into the darkness. Struggling to keep standing on his injured leg. He looked out the door, seeing the torchlight slowly receding down the hill.
What have I gotten myself into? The young man thought. They will kill the crew on the beach but they’re afraid to come here, he pondered, feeling the wariness and fatigue overtaking his aching body.
Moving into a dry corner. He sat down leaning against the cold stone wall, a slight chill running through him from his wet clothing.
I should start a fire, he thought. His eyes closing passing out.
Feeling a dog’s tongue licking his face, forcing him to wake. Looking around, spotting a large dog’s shadow moving down the rough stone steps down into the darkness below. Awaking in the gloomy room, the horrors of the previous night overtaking him. Struggling to stand, his left leg stiff and sore as he struggled to the door, looking for the sun. Frowning, seeing it not where he expected it. Watching it hang low in the far distance.
Damn slept the whole day, he thought, his eyes locking onto three figures moving slowly among the ruins of the keep coming towards the tower. His eyes taking in their bulky form and greenish skin even from this distance. He could make out the pig like features of their faces. Dark close-set eyes looking around. Short tusks erupting from their lower jaw.
“Crap Goblins,” he spat out, seeing them moving directly towards the tower. “Damn their sense of smell,” he muttered, patting down his ripped and torn shirt and pants.
Finding no sword or bow, only a small knife on his belt, not even his hunting knife. Turning, he looked at the circular room; the staircase going up and the staircase going down. Then out the door again, seeing the leather armor goblins coming closer. Looking up the stairs to an open sky moving for the staircase leading down.
Damned if I do, damned if I don’t, he thought, moving for the staircase going down.
Descending into the gloom using his hand feeling the rough stone walls. His bare feet feeling for the rough stone steps. Keeping his hand on the rough stone wall, struggling to go deeper into the darkness. Stopping figuring he had to be at least one hundred feet below the tower surface. Straining his eyes into the darkness looking up the stairway, he had come, barely making out a pinpoint of light and guttural voices speaking.
Shit, they’re following me, he thought, continuing his descent, noticing a glowing appearing in the darkness. Shaking his head in the darkness. Death above or the unknown below. He mentally shrugged, moving towards the glowing in the darkness.
Stopping on the cold stone step landing, still hearing the guttural voices above him looking at the archway glowing with a flickering light in front of him. The sounds of scratching on stone reaching his ear. Looking up to see the flickering torchlight descending towards him.
“Come on in,” a female’s voice stated more in his mind than in his ears. His triangular face growing in shock. His Brown eyes growing wide under unkempt brown eyebrows in danger of growing into one.
“What choice do you have goblins above or an invitation to enter?” her sweet voice asked.
The young man furled his unkempt eyebrows as his dark eyes scrunched up thinking, shaking his brown hair looking at the open doorway. Calling up what strength he could, he walked carefully to the edge of the archway, stepping in freezing at the sight that greeted him. Large golden eyes stared at him from the silvery reptile face of the Dragon that sat in the mostly empty hall lit by torches set in on the various walls. The Dragon cocked its head slightly, studying the young man.
“Good for you, you did not flee immediately,” the female voice stated, more in his mind again than his ears. A smile, if he could call it, that appeared on the dragon’s face, exposing large razor-sharp teeth.
“I’ve invited you in. I mean you no harm,” the Dragon moved one leg, the claws extending waving him away from the doorway.
The young man looking at the Dragon then looking back up the stairs, hearing the guttural voices seeing the flickering torchlight descending towards him. Making up his mind moving to one side of the door closer to a pillar holding a torch. The glow of the torch allowing him to watch the Dragon crawl forward on scratching claws on stone. Slightly extending her long sinuous neck and squared off head at the door.
“If you’ll excuse me, I dislike goblins,” the female’s voice stated. The young man involuntarily nodding agreeing as the Dragon inhaled a large breath of air before breathing out.
The young man feeling the heat as the flames burst from the dragon’s mouth up the stairs to mix with the screams and cries of the burning goblins. The Dragon moving back on scraping claws on the stone floor, putting distance between the door and the young man centering itself in the room.
“Are you going to run away or you going to talk?” the female voice asked. The young man looked worried as he eyed the door than the Dragon then looked down towards his injured leg. Knowing he would not outrun the flames.
“I never spoken with a Dragon,” he said slowly as the large toothy smile slowly appeared on the dragon’s face. Not reassuring him.
“There’s a first time for everything. What is your name?” the Dragon asked. The young man’s dark eyes studied the Dragon.
“Orion,” he finally stated as a deep half growl half chuckle erupted from the Dragon’s throat.
“Pleasure to meet you, Orion. I am Isabella,” the voice said.