I wrote this freshman year of college when I was 19. Might have been for a creative writing or mythology class, since the paper has a date on it.
Crinamin. The city of dreams. Where fantasies come true and reality surpasses imagination. Where beauty flourishes and knowledge makes its home.
Crinamin. The city of magnificent buildings and exotic people. Where flowing fountains and wide streets gleam in the sun. Where lavish markets and colorful vendors make the city a center for commerce. And crime.
Crinamin. Where fortunes are made and fortunes are lost. Where dark cluttered alleys and secluded basement taverns harbor those who deal in crime. Thieves and highwaymen call the less respectable sections of the city home. Murder makes itself known — not only in the lower-class district. Other upper-class iniquities include: adultery, embezzlement, resale of stolen merchandise.
Crinamin. A taste of everything.
Now the city knew fear. All remained indoors during the dark hours because of the horror that stalked the night — brutally slaying five or six citizens a night, regardless of caste. All stayed indoors except two: the murderous beast, and a rider from another land who seemed ignorant of the danger. After an evening of ale and wenching — as well as unheeded warnings — he stumbled out into the night.
His name was Ramsey, and he vainly considered himself the greatest swordsman alive. Perhaps he was. But that was not the reason he took the chance. He knew the beast. It was his brother.
A month ago, he had seen his brother transformed into a shambling monstrosity by a wizard they were battling. The creature had immediately fled, and it was not until two days ago that Ramsey had come across reports of his brother’s whereabouts.
So he now walked the deserted streets of Crinamin with a short bow and sword — hoping that the creature might pause in recognition long enough for Ramey to incapacitate and, if necessary, kill it. Ramsey hoped to seek his brother’s restoration — but if it became necessary to kill the creature, he vowed he would not stay his hand.
He had not long to wait. Out of the night, the creature raced toward him. He quickly took aim with his bow, paused, and shot purposefully off mark — and an arrow sprouted from the beast’s shoulder. The next instant, the thing was upon him — stealing his life with a single sweep of its claws. Ramsey’s body fell back, his face now visible in the light from a nearby lantern.
The creature let out a piercing wail of sorrow that echoed throughout the city — causing many a heart to shudder. The beast ran blindly through the city howling its despair.
It was the next day that the body of the beast was found on the altar in the main temple, a sacrificial dagger plunged deep into the creature’s heart.
Though the circumstances were never fully determined, the stranger was hailed as a hero (his arrow was identified) and beast and hero — brother and brother — were buried side by side in the temple yard.
Crinamin. A taste of everything.