Tag Archives: Ashbrook


This will be the poem that preludes the third chapter of my story (I haven’t finished writing the chapter, but I have the concept of the chapter so from that I was able to write this poem, which acts as a summary):

Scared to continue, but he can not return to a lie
Cold wet and hungry; the cub conflicted and alone
In the woods nightmares cast by the moon lit sky,
Branches claw and hollows gnarl teeth of bone.

Feeling like a marionette cut loose
Virgin eyes see that roots do not grasp,
And daemon eyes can not seduce
His freedom that callow fears rasp.

But an omen shadows his troubles with a cry,
To hear such; foretells that he will soon die.

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Posted by on Thursday 7th May, 2015 in Poetry


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Chapter Two: Verity (Part I) ~First Draft~

Continued from Chapter One (Part IV) and Poetry Prologue (Verity)

Despite the broken night’s sleep and the unfolding of the disturbing events Ash woke just before dawn, as was usual. His thoughts felt as if he was wading through mud, in vain trying to catch pigs. Curiosity however managed to emerge from the mirth and he couldn’t help but satisfy his desire to explore the remains of John’s house and to find out more about the raiders, from anyone willing to speak of them. However Aunt, aware of his curious mind, pursued him into his chores and intently monitored his movements throughout the morning to ensure he was kept busy with work to do. The torrents of work played some part in Ash not realising that his father had been absent all morning, not that Carel is keen for him to get onto his chores and eager to keep to him busy. Carel is the Lord’s messenger and Ash assumes that he has gone to the Lord regarding last nights raids. Not to tell the Lord about the events, but to ensure that Carel delivers a message to the higher lord of their region informing them of the situation.

Carel arrives back home around lunch time. As usual all the family have worked hard on the land since dawn. Hands blackened by the dark soil, clothes torn and stained by animal movements. Carel however stands before them. Clean clothes of a finer cloth than any of them possess. His hands only slightly stained with ink used to write messages. Ash is instantly aware that Carel is to embark on a trip to deliver a message. Ash is use to such journeys, and sadly doesn’t miss his father on such trips from home.

Surprisingly Carel informs them Ash will also travel with him on this journey, as he rarely travels with Carel and when he does it isn’t that pleasant for either of them, although Ash is enchanted with the new faces and places. Ash and his father have an odd relationship. Carel has struggled to cope with Ash sine the death of his wife. Ash is unsure of why Carel is like this and wonders often what life would be like now with his mother around. However chores and a busy lifestyle don’t let him wonder too often of this. However now his father was taking him back to his birth place and where his mother died. Carel talks so rarely of his wife, and even less of their life before Black Meadow.

Continues to Part II

Ersnon Glossary

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Posted by on Monday 13th May, 2013 in Creative Writing, The Struggle Within


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Chapter One: Torpor (Part III) ~First Draft~

Continued from Part II

Ash’s uncle waited a few moments to ensure the horsemen had disappeared before emerging from behind the safety of his door.  His father cowardly followed his uncle out onto the path.  Ash with false bravado strode behind both of them, with the eagerness of youth however silently aware of his ineptness, he stayed behind his father.  They approached John where he laid.  Ash became aware that other villagers were now emerging from behind closed doors.  It was evident to Ash that the fear of standing up to the horsemen was not restricted to his family.  The village had grown into farmers and lacked any will to engage in any activities that would risk their lives.  Ash had mixed emotions:  he could not imagine standing by as his cousins or friends were taken before him without lifting a hand, if he was an adult that was.  His father had trembled through the whole event, it was obvious that he held no fear for others, but only himself.  Ash hoped that his father would have shown more backbone if it had been his life in the balance (on the back of the horsemen’s saddle).

Upon reaching John’s slumped body horse’s hooves could be heard coming from the opposite direction that the horsemen had disappeared too.  There was fear and hesitation from the villagers.  Unsure if it was the horsemen returning or the arrival finally of the guards.  It was the later.  The guards rode in with their shining armour and swords drawn. They appeared with all the bravado of men ready to fight.  Each however glad that only villagers remained.  “What took you so long?” uncle brazenly questioned the guards.

“It was a cold night and we were not expecting any such raid by the Járn” The head guard replied between yawns.

“They went that way” Uncle politely pointed out the direction that the Járn raiders had disappeared too.

“We dare not follow in such a dark night.  We also can not leave you unguarded after such events”

John had come to during the discussion after be awoken by other villagers, who now supported his weight.  “My daughter and wife were taken.  I have sown and harvested the Lord’s fields for many cycles now.  The least you can do is follow them.” He pleaded.

“The Lord is thankful for you labours however we are responsible for all the Lord’s people.  We must stand by our people and protect them.  We will be able to go after your women come the time we are sure all the village is secure.”

“Cowards … “ John muttered under his breath.  The guards pretended not to hear him, preferring to end the discussions and undertake drills to reassure the village that they were protecting them.  However it was known throughout the village that the Járn only undertook quick raids of towns.  Their objective to grab a few slaves and be on their way.  They would ride far in the night and all knew John would never see his wife or daughter again.  The Járn were ruthless riders and the guards who could not match their horsemen ship and had even less capabilities to match their courage and fighting abilities.

John collapsed to the muddied path.  Accepting the fate that bestowed his wife and daughter.  A life of being a slave to the Járn until the end of their days.  Aunt now approached John and escorted him back to our house.  Ash stood in the middle of the path.  Deep in thought.  The men of the village had seemingly already forgotten the nights events.  Their sole purpose now concentrated on putting out the fire that burned John’s house.  The concern was not saving John’s house but stopping the fire from spreading to any other houses.

Ash realised at this moment that when he was an adult he would not stand idly bye and let his fellow villagers be victims such as John.  He would act when the time arose not wait for the danger to pass, ensuring that he was safe.

Continues to Part IV

Ersnon Glossary


Posted by on Wednesday 8th May, 2013 in Creative Writing, The Struggle Within


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Chapter One: Torpor (Part II) ~First Draft~

Continued from Part I

His father felt Ash behind him, however did not acknowledge him in any way. Ash could tell his father was fearful. He was not a brave man and definitely hid behind the protection of Lord Elman.

Ash could see glimmers of what was happening outside and managed to piece together from what he could see and heard from his Uncle’s commentary that John’s house, whom lived across the path, was ablaze and that men bearing weapons upon horses were parading around in command. In the flashing of the flames and small slit in the door he could see Mary, John’s wife screaming alongside her daughter in the middle of the path. A man atop a horse was holding them both. Eyeing them off as Ash had seen farmers cast an eye over cattle available for purchasing. John then came defiantly running onto the scene, had the men been caught unawares by John’s desperation or was it all part of their game. Trying in vain to fight the horseman. John had only his hands, against a heavily armed man atop a horse, who had more weapons than Ash had seen before. And many he could only imagine how they were used.

With a swift backhand from the horseman John fell to the ground. As he regained his feet Ash saw another horseman ride up behind him and fall him with a swift whack to head with some thick club like weapon. John’s body slumped to the ground. The horsemen simply laughed at the folly of John’s attempts. They however made no attempt to take his life or further hurt him.

Uncle mumbled to Ash’s father “We will wait for the guards to arrive”

Ash’s father nodded solemnly in agreement. Neither had any fight in them, Ash was disgraced with their attitudes and cowardice. Ash however was friends with John’s daughter and although young imagined one day marrying her. Without a second thought he approached the door. Uncle however grabbed him in strong arms. “You can’t help them now, son.”

Ash struggled briefly but realised it was useless. Also if he couldn’t even get free of his Uncle who hid from these horsemen what chance did he have against at least two horsemen. Ash heard some talk between the horsemen now, then raucous laughter. Obviously enjoying the sight of the women on display. A third horseman than rode up and picked up Mary. Mary’s daughter than was picked up by the first horseman. They all then rode off away from town. Three or four more horsemen followed with quick procession. The women screamed as they were taken away … the horsemen roared in mockery, of the women and the fear of the townspeople as they disappeared into the cold night.

Continues to Part III

Ersnon Glossary


Posted by on Tuesday 7th May, 2013 in Creative Writing, The Struggle Within


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Chapter One : Torpor (Part I) ~First Draft~

Poetry prelude for Chapter One

Screams encroached upon Ash’s dreams, shattering his temporary illusions of riding alongside Lord Elman’s guards. In his dream he is free from the toils of working the land for the Lord and having to return home only to tend his fields and animals. Instead the wind cascaded across his face as he galloped with assurance upon his black steed. The steed’s unblemished coat shone in the sunshine and her muscles rippled in delight with each stride. The weight of his metal armour weighed heavy on his shoulder, but the burden of being a protector warmed him like only the summer sunshine could. His mind relished the warmth that for most his life had never known, and his thread bare rags he wore were replaced by the cloth of a knight’s stable. The warmth, the material goods and the freedoms of such a position were scattered images, as Ash had no clear notion of such feelings and possessions. He had only observed guards from a distance as a stranger dreaming of all the romanticised lives that he would live as a guard. His ride was suddenly over, as he now found himself lying down in the trodden mud puddles of an unknown land, fighting an unknown enemy with a sword bearing towards his head. However the man holding the sword was hidden in the shadows.

Ash startled awake as the sword struck. He found himself shivering and huddled in his sinew blankets of scraps. The coldness of the night biting deep into him, the blankets thread bare offered little comfort and the central hearth in their house was now reduced to dull embers that feebly tried to lick the bitter chill hanging. An awkward atmosphere clung to the smoke filled house. It wasn’t the cold because Ash was used to feeling cold each and every night during the winter. Unusual for the dead of the night the animals hidden in the dark recess of the house were agitated and restless. Although his eyes were open his mind still slept, taking a while to catch what all his senses were yelling at him.

Through the gloom the fearful cries that first appeared as a nightmare now pierced his stupor as he realised that the screams were far from any dream and set firmly in his reality. Slowly Ash arose, the sound of other voices within his home mumbling under breath. The only light within the house illuminated from the central hearth, with warm embers barely lighting the inner walls. The poor visibility wasn’t helped by the smoke thickened air that lingered eternally within the confines of the house throughout winter.

A lonely silhouette was visible at the door, it held a hoe firmly however the only intended use appeared to till soil. It was his Uncle Garyson whom he and his father, Carel, lived with. It was his Uncle’s house, and under Aunt Bessima’s insistence, he had invited them to share their house after the death of Ash’s mother. Ash could make out the shape of his Aunt Bessima sitting up from her bed.

He could hear his Aunt asking his Uncle what were the screams, he didn’t acknowledge her question simply directing her to take the children to the back of the house with the animals. She followed without any rebuttal. Calmly she gathered the children and lead them to the sanctuary with the animals at the rear of the house. Aunt told Ash to follow her, however he ignored her and joined his father and uncle at the door.

Continues to Part II

Ersnon Glossary

(Constructive criticism, comments, suggestions, ideas, opinions etc. welcomed throughout)


Posted by on Monday 29th April, 2013 in Creative Writing, The Struggle Within


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