A short story
Many "heroes" have passed through Gridswald or as the saying goes "You haven't passed anything until you've passed away in Gridswald", which sadly is true.
The "heroes" that usually came were the kind of people who knew how to seek gold but couldn't use a sword even if the Master himself had thought them. Everyone knew about the curse of the Gridswald king's and their riches, it became obvious that no one could control the demons of the kings so the towns people locked them all in the dungeons with their cursed riches and elected a queen because, as it is well known, women can only use white magic. The idea of having only one leader at a time was also a good change.
To all tavern owners, it was quite a disappointment when you heard the scream of another customer as he got his legs slowly twisted off and his arms rapped around his body three times, but that is the way of things, at least it was, nowadays heroes were smart and didn't take on something they couldn't kill, which is a great disappointment for the Gridswaldian people.
Fingal's tavern had always done the best buisness, perhaps it was his sign or his service or the fact that you could sleep there so in the morning you can pick up where you left off, but for whatever reason he never excepted rangers in his tavern, maybe he believed them to be dirty. He should have excepted the last adventurer the town ever had, even if he was a ranger because we still have not heard his scream. Joseph says that if he is going to win he might want to come back out before he's 100 even though rangers tend to live until 500, but Joseph will only live until he's 150 and he wants to see the day the demons die.
The night the ranger came out was the 70th anniversary of when he went in. Everyone knew something big was about to happen because a storm was brewing. Doors had been locked and shutters bolted as the great storm passed over head.
....In the glow of his magic sword, Uldorin saw the last of the demon's....
The wind howled down through chimney's and whistled around corner's.
....And the final battle had begun....
The shutters on Fingal's tavern had been blown open and everyone retreated to Joseph's tavern which was sheltered from the wind.
....Uldorin charged at the demon and locked his sword in its horns....
A lightning flash startled the people and dogs howled.
....Uldorin's sword plunged into the demons flesh....
A roar of thunder shook the building and a baby began to cry.
....The demon had not died, Uldorin let go of the sword and retreived two knives from his belt and threw them with a steady hand....
A roar shook the building but everyone knew that this time it was not the storm that was screaming.
The storm died shortly after that and people gathered around the entrance to the dungeon. They watched patiently as the sun slowly rose in the sky. Eventually, the massive door creaked open and the ranger stumbled out and collapsed on the ground.
Today, the story is still told of the mighty Uldorin and his dealy hands but no one knows what happened to him after that. Some had seen a ranger up in Dark Mountain but never saw him return, but who know's.
All characters and place's are entirely fictional, any resemblance to real places and people are completely accidental.
This is my first ever short story so I would like some feed back. If I have offended anyone I'm sorry, even though I dont know how this could offend anyone. The saying at the start is also made up. I thought it would be a good effect.