I'm feeling a little better about this challenge today. I've woken up early to get this scheduled and I have a good amount of work to aim for. Hopefully my writing won't diminish back to day one's standards. Let's take on day five;
Write from the perspective of a man.
Expel Stereotypes: Round Two. Men are often stereotyped as handsome musclemen, intimidating bosses, or perverts. Real men come in all shapes and sizes, just like women, and most are more in touch with their emotional side then they let on. Try basing your male character off of a unique man in your own life.
It was going to be a race against time. The kings guard on their way to him by horseback. Even with a good leg he couldn't outrun a horse. His injury had taken it's toll on his life. His wife left him after a rumour started that he was a deserter, intentionally wounded himself to get him out of serving for his country. That wasn't the case at all, although it seemed the King had no qualms about summoning him there like a dog. The guards would not be kind about how they dragged him there.
In his panic he had grabbed seven of his medical books and shoved them into a sack in the hopes that he could get far enough away before they reached his house that they would spend too much time searching and questioning the village to find him while he got the answers for the king. He was damn sure that his medical condition was not caused by his own hand, but could never afford the physicians prices to confirm it.
Too late. The front door was knocked down before he even managed to get to the back and hands clamped down on his shoulders.
"Deserter, you are summoned to speak before the King," said the guard, his grip tightening on his shoulders.
"I am not a deserter." A fist collided with his jaw as he spoke. Obviously talking to the guards was not a option.
"I didn't ask for your excuses deserter, I am just here to take you to the trial."
A trial already? The rumour had only started three days ago when he had returned and his wife walked out on him. She probably started it, the perfect excuse to leave him. Then there was that carpenter who always looked at him with daggers in hies eyes.
"But I have proof," he lied as the guard forced him out of the door. Another guard kicked his bad leg and he stumbled, kept upright by the guard holding the back of his shirt. His heart started pumping as the last two guards outside gave him an amused look.
"You have proof? Proof you didn't just hurt yourself and get sent home. How did that happen then?" The guards tone was mocking and challenging.
end of scene
So without wanting to write on forever for this story I am going to stop here. Want more from this scene? Let me know in the comments and I might carry it on.
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