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Hey all this is the Prologue for my work in progress The Dark Age part 1. If you have time check it out and tell me what you think. It means a lot! :)

Prologue
The cobbled stones of the small village’s market place echoed with the sounds of the footsteps of villagers and vendors. A teenage boy ran past them, a large oilskin parcel clutched tightly under his arm. He looked up through the sea of people, sweat dripping down his thin face and over his sharp and short nose.
He wiped it away with his sleeve, and continued running. It was a beautiful day in Alania, the sun was shining hot and bright in the sky, bird song and the bustle and chatter of the village filled the air. The boy was on his way home, the parcel that he held contained something of utmost importance. The man who had given it to him was his grandfather, the elderly man in the far reaches of the village. The boy was in a hurry, excited to discover what the parcel held.
A large vendor came from behind his tent and bent down to help a customer with a bag of grain, right in front of the oncoming boy, who was paying no attention to where he was going, his thoughts dwelling on the small, hard package he held. The boy yelled as he tripped over the man's outstretched leg and fell, his arms flailing as he hit the cobblestones. The parcel flew into the air and landed a few yards away in the village river that wound its way through the market. The boy collapsed on the cobble walk way his nose bleeding where it hit the ground.
The man turned around away from the customer and with a cry helped the boy to his feet.
“I am so sorry Lord Valin,” said the man, noticing the small lion insignia emblazoned on the boy’s shirt. He was the son of the king, and any attempt to hurt royalty was charged with death.
Valin wiped his bleeding nose on his shirt and held his hand up. “It’s fine my father won’t know.” He put his hand to his nose and limped away slowly down towards the river. The parcel was gone. Valin kicked the stone walkway just to draw his foot back with a large cursing bout. He looked down the river trying to catch a glimpse of something, something that would tell him the parcel wasn’t lost. But he stretched over a little to far, and with a yell fell flailing into the rushing river.
The man from booth looked up. “God have mercy on my soul.” He cried as if it was his fault.
Valin was taken by the rivers undertow. The boy swirled through the waves swallowing more then a safe amount of water. In a blurred state of drowning, he caught a small glimpse of a brown parcel. Valin used the rest of his strength to lunge out and grab it. I slipped out his grasp. Valin slammed into the wall of the river, and a piece of rock imbedded in his hand. The parcel floated by him and he reached out with his other hand, and this time he grasped it. Valin’s vision went dark and then with a gasp he passed out.
A few seconds later his body bobbed back to the surface. The man from the booth dragged him from the water. Valin’s chest wasn’t moving. The man hammered it with his fist, trying to get him breathing again. Valin coughed and water spewed into the man’s face. Valin vomited more water out and rolled onto his stomach. He pulled his hands to him, in his left a sharp piece of rock was embedded and in the left was the oilskin parcel. Valin cried in pain, as the shock left and his hand began to sting like never before.
He looked up at the man, agony covering his wet face. The man had his head bowed and was praying fervently. Valin gasped and yanked the piece of rock from his hand. He let out a sigh and passed out.
The man looked down at Valin’s prone body. “Oh dear God! I have killed him, strike me down.” The man fell to the ground with a sob. The sound of horses came from behind him, and the man looked up tears streaking down his worn face.
A sword was placed lightly at his neck. The man let out a small sob and put his head down. The man holding the sword jumped down off his horse.
“It’s alright Bartholomew, he is only unconscious he will wake in a while.” The guard looked down at Valin’s hand, and grimaced. “My my, he has been busy, Nal,” he said signaling to the guard closest, “get his lordship to the castle and into the infirmary, wouldn’t want him to loose much blood, go now.”
Bartholomew the little old man looked up and gave a cry of gratefulness, “Thank you sir Calmar.”
Calmar let out a small laugh, “You can leave now, thank God.” He added with an eye roll.
The castle guard made their way up the long winding path to the castle, leaving the sobbing Bartholomew in the dust.
* * * * *
Valin blinked in the sunlight coming from outside the large window, a small bird flitted past with a sharp tweet. Valin jumped and sat up quickly. He grimaced as pain shot through his bandaged hand. He looked down, His wound was healing nicely. He had been sleeping for a long time, it seemed, and was only now just waking. He had still not taken the time to look in the parcel.
He looked to his right where the oilskin wrapped package sat tantalizingly, just waiting for him to tear it open. Valin couldn’t fight the urge anymore. He reached over and grasped the parcel in his hand. He placed it on his lap and pulled the strings loosing them from the parcel. The strings fell away and Valin placed them to the side.
He took an edge of the oilskin gingerly and with grim concentration pulled it to the side. He took the other edge and pulled it away, revealing a large red and black leather bound book.
Valin ran his fingers over the smooth surface. A small lock with vines engraved in it, kept the book tightly shut. He grasped the lock with his thumb and forefinger and pulled softly. The lock clicked and sprung open. He took hold of the cover and pulled it back slowly. The parchment of the book was worn, but still in good condition. On the inside of the cover in the far right corner was someone’s initials engraved in the leather.
J.O.N. Valin recognized them immediately. The initials were those of his great, great grandfather, John Olivaun Nyuln. John was the great adventurer who defeated the dark lord in the Dark Age, more than two hundred years ago.
Valin’s face lit up with a smile as he pulled back the first page of what was his great-grandfather’s journal. In this tome was recorded the amazing story of one of the greatest heroes in legend, in a story that would be told now and for years to come.
* * * * *
The corridors of the castle were silent, as normal in the dead of night. The only thing that disturbed the silence was the screams, and wails of the queen as she gave birth to her first born, the king’s heir.
King Darin stood over his wife whispering words of encouragement, as his wife Queen Violet helped their first born make his way into a bright new world. The nurse standing beside him put her hand on his shoulder. King Darin wiped a tear from his eyes.
The nurse leaned down as the baby came into view. She took the baby in her arms and with her assistant’s help she cleaned the baby off gently. The small baby boy looked up and blinked his dark hair a tuft on his head. The queen gasped in relief and smiled. King Darin just cried, his son, his heir was born.
His wife looked up at him with a smile on her face; she cradled the baby boy in her arms. “What are we going to name him, his father will choose.” She handed the baby slowly to his father. Through the thick blankets that covered him, the baby smiled at his father, a knowing look in his sharp blue eyes.
The king smiled. “His name will be John, John the king’s firstborn, the king’s heir.”

I love it Ben, and am interested to know how the story will progress.

Yeah I will post more. I have posted up to chapter 5 in my other group, so I will get there.

Okay, feel free to take your time, this is a good start.

This is a very interesting story Ben. I can certainly see its potential and I can't wait to read more. Just be careful with your use of pronouns. You use them a lot and it's easy for the reader to get confused. Other than that great work!

Ok cool, I'll work on that. :)

Chapter 1: A New Day Dawning
The large man was advancing closer to the edge of the ring. John wiped the sweat from his brow and smiled slightly. This was more fun than he had thought, fifty Han to the winner, and a battered body to the loser, right up his alley. The ring fights in the small town of Gunhal, had become a favorite of John’s ever since he had turned sixteen, four years ago. He was the best in the ring, and had bested many opponents, leaving them with a broken rib at the least every time he was done. His parents didn’t exactly approve. He was an adult now, and could make his own decisions.
The large man on the other side of the ring was ready to fight again. John wiped the sweat from his nose and turned his attention to the sweaty, huge figure in front of him. John put his fists up; so far he had dealt two devastating blows, one to the head, which had dazed his opponent, and the other to the nose, which had fractured it at best. The large man was still going.
John walked to meet his first blow, a hard uppercut to the jaw. John ducked to the side speedily, and in a split second brought his elbow back with a large crack into the man's face, and then with his other arm, he slashed his upper back with the side of his hand, knocking him to the ground. John jumped back, as the man’s arms flailed out towards his legs.
John had been blessed with an agile, muscular build. He stood five feet ten inches from the ground, and his body was slim and muscular. The big man had stood up again.
“Still want more,” John taunted, “stop before I break your neck… no wait, don’t stop, this should be fun.” He stepped over to the man, who was swaying on the spot, as if he was going to be sick. John pulled his arm back and with a crack. He smacked the big man in the head, sending him to the ground out cold. The crowd cheered and clapped.
The young maidens in the crowd swooned and threw roses in the direction of John. John caught a rose thrown from a beautiful girl with brunette hair, and large blue sparkling eyes. John put the rose in between his teeth, and smiled flirtatiously. The girl gasped and fainted into her friends arms.
John gave a small laugh, and turned to where his money was waiting. The guard at the gate stopped him with a gloved fist.
“Not so fast, you cur, I have orders from the king himself to arrest you immediately on sight.”
“Nice one Gil, doesn’t work though, where’s my money?” John said with a laugh, more girls to the left of him passed out into their friends waiting arms.
Gil, or Gilbert as some called him, pulled off his disguise. He was a tall and broad boy of sixteen, almost a man now. His blonde hair partially covering his brilliant yellow eyes.
“Honestly John, how do you guess it every time, can I really not change my voice at all?” Gilbert asked with a voice of puzzled amusement.
“Not really, nope, not at all, now that I think about it.” John smiled. “Can I have my money now?”
Gilbert shoved a small bag, full of silver coins into John’s large hand. “I never will have a chance of sneaking anywhere, or of stealing food from the kitchen.”
“Now, don’t do something like that Gilbert,” John used his actual name for dramatic effect. “Or…” John paused for a moment and stared at the ceiling, “Oh yes, there is a good one,” he continued. “Off with your head!”
Gilbert laughed nervously. “You’re kidding right?”
He laughed. “Yes, of course I am kidding, steal as much as you like. We have loads, talk to you later.” He turned, and raised his eyebrow. “Hey Gil?”
The boy stopped at the door. “Yeah, John, what is it?”
“My parents will never know,” he put his fingers to his lips.
John strutted out of the arena, throwing the small bag of coins in the air, and catching it with a devil may care smile. More girls outside fainted as he passed. He pulled on his cotton shirt and took his belt from beside the door, which contained his sword. A large one and a half handed sword with a silver pommel, a jeweled hilt, and a sparkling silver blade. He buckled the belt around his waist and walked down the cobbled walk towards his home on the far side of the river.
He had moved from the castle the previous year. His parents had insisted that he needed to move and find a wife, have kids, and most of all grow up. He stomped up to the door of his house.
The house was new as of that year. It was three stories tall, with twenty rooms, and a gigantic kitchen. Two large lion statues stood in the front guarding the door. John sighed. It had been a long day, and he just wanted some rest. He opened the door, passing one of his servants as he stomped up the long winding staircase to his room.
John unbuttoned his cotton shirt and grimaced at the mass of bruises underneath. He was amazed that he somehow hadn’t noticed when he had left the ring. The big man had done more damage than he had thought. He pulled off the shirt and the rest of his clothes.
He sighed as the warm water of the shower in his room cascaded down his sore shoulders. This dueling was wearing out his body, but the money from his father would run out eventually, and he needed a little side cash, but not from this. He bit his lip; no this was something he loved. John wrestled with the thoughts in his head as he stepped out of the shower and dressed himself.
He didn’t eat that night, just crawled into his bed and fell into a deep sleep.

Ben, you have the basis of a decent story, however you'll need to read over this as it needs a lot of proofreading. A good tip is to read it aloud, so you can see where the punctuation goes.

Also, I question the reactions of the females who all seem to be falling down as John walks past them. Is this really how females would react? Most females back then would be very composed out in public. Hope this helps :)

Oh yeah! Thanks for the advice! I know it has its issues, but I'll keep working on it. I have to finish writing it before I edit it completely. Those are some good points you made.

Chapter 2: No Rest for the Weary
The teenage girl crouched against the wall. Her mother and father had already died, killed by dark and wicked men, they were searching the house. Screams and shouts echoed from outside. The village was being attacked. She sobbed and looked around desperately for a weapon as the sounds of voices came closer and closer to her. The men were on the stairs now. The girl looked up at the wall on the far side of her room. Tears slowly dripped down her sweat and dirt covered face. Through the tears she spotted her father’s sword. It was four feet long including the handle, and wide, with a deadly sharp blade. Why hadn’t her father thought of this when the house was attacked? He had put up the sword years ago and had said he would never use unless something went wrong. Tonight things had just gone wrong.
The girl stood up and paced over to the wall. She picked up the sword ready for its lead weight to knock her arms to the floor, but it was surprisingly light. It was made with very light steel from the mountain of Haragash in the far east of Alania.
She swung it in an arc. The sword was graceful and fast. She turned with a gasp as a shadow figure charged into the room. She didn’t give him a chance to blink, with the accuracy of a natural she stabbed him in the stomach and hurled him into the wall breaking bones.
The man gasped in surprise and slumped to the floor astonishment clouding his face.
More tears cascaded down the girl’s face. The next man charged at her and she swept him aside just as easily. She collapsed to the floor. Her knees felt weak and her stomach tight. She crawled over to the bodies, and began to pray. She wretched, and vomited over the dead body. Killing someone was as harsh as they said, it was not an easy feat, and now she knew it first hand. The girl swayed on her knees and with a gasp passed out over the dead body of the man she had just killed.
* * * * *
The knocking on the large wooden door was the sound that woke John from his deep sleep. John yelled loudly and sat up. He wiped the sweat from his brow slowly. More knocking came from his door, then the sound of yells and screams from outside. He rolled off his bed and hit the floor with a thud. He quickly pulled some leather trousers over his underwear and grabbed his sword from beside the door. He pulled a cotton shirt over his bare arms not caring to button it.
He threw open the door, and his maid Brenda fell into his arms a knife embedded in her back. She cried and looked into his eyes. John grimaced, and pulled his bloodied hand away with a grimace. He looked past her body. Two men stood still, short swords in both of their hands. John let the maid’s body fall gently onto the floor with a thud.
He glared at the men with grim determination in his eyes. He charged with a yell of anger, and anguish. The first man didn’t stand a chance against John’s angry attacks.
He yelled and slashed the man in the middle, blood sprayed and hit John’s chest. And the man’s body separated almost completely. His body fell limply to the floor and bumped up against the other man’s leg. The other man gave one look in John’s direction and ran away with a scream of terror.
John looked after him, and with a grimace yelled. “That’s right, you better run, you filthy bastard.” He grunted and wiped the blood from his forehead. He sheathed his bloodied sword with a quick movement.
He turned around slowly, only to be blinded and collapse on the floor as a bright white gloved hand smashed into his face. The last thing that he saw before darkness took him was a figure of pure white silver standing in front of him.
* * * * *
“My king, they have breached the walls, there is no stopping them now, and we must retreat.”
King Philip took his sword from the wall in the great hall. He turned to his commander of the guard. “If I must die to protect my kingdom and my people, then I will not retreat.” He turned to the rest of his soldiers in the room. “So those who wish to follow me, and save our people, then come.”
Queen Violet rushed to his side. “No! Philip do not do this. You can still make it out. You have given these people everything you need to. You have been a great king.”
The King turned to his wife, a crystal tear dripping down his weathered face. “My love, I must stay, for it is my duty to protect these people with my life. Go, John will take care of you now.”
Violet shook her head and took a sword from the great table. “No, I will not leave your side. I promised that when I married you.”
King Philip embraced her, and then turned to his men. “Men, we will most likely die in this battle, but we are protecting our loved ones, and our freedom.” He threw his arm in the air, “Now go, and give them hell!”
He gave one last glance at his wife. She smiled. The doors to the hall shattered and the enemy poured in.
* * * * *

John woke again at what seemed to be dawn. His eyelids fluttered open and he reached up to touch his head. He felt the sticky blood crusted to his head, and quickly pulled his hand away. He looked up and came face to face with the white figure, except that he wasn’t as white anymore. The person was a young man, no more than twenty-five. His face was clean shaven, and his hair was a bright silver white. He was dressed in complete silver and white, and on his shoulder was a gigantic silver sword, larger than John had ever seen before. His eyes were a dark piercing blue that matched with the silver and white.
He held out his hand for John to shake it. John looked at it strangely, why would the person that had just knocked him unconscious, turn around and give him a formal greeting?
John shook it anyway, not wanting to be rude. The young man pulled him to his feet and smiled coyly.
“My name is Alex Linfield, or as my allies call me, The White Knight, but you can call me Alex. I am from the kingdom of Harlk, my uncle is king there, and my parents are dead.” He said bluntly.
John began to introduce himself.
“No, I know who you are, don’t need to tell me that. I watched your fight in the ring, pretty amazing. I was never that good myself. But that is off the subject. John…” he paused for a moment as if to gather his thoughts, then he continued.
“Your parents are dead. Your castle is destroyed as is the rest of your village. A dark age is happening, and it is up to you to stop the dark lord controlling it, see look at your wrist. You have the mark. So follow me and I will give you a briefing of what you are supposed to do, and if you don’t follow my instructions then I will have to kill you, follow me outside and no questions, do you or do you not understand?
“I… wha… huh….”
“Good glad to hear it, now follow me.” Alex turned around swiftly and stomped out of the building.
John’s head was filled with questions, were his parents really dead? Who was this Alex person?
John followed the bright white knight out of the house. Alex turned to face him as he walked out the door. To his left was a young and very large man. He had a sharp square jaw, bright gray eyes, a ripped open shirt, and sailor’s trousers. His face covered in a slight shadow of a beard.
To Alex’s right was an average height, slim, shapely, red haired girl, possibly eighteen years old. She smiled at John, not one of those creepy stalker smiles, but a warm one. John smiled back.
Alex snapped his fingers. “Ok, John, do you have any questions?”
“I thought you said don’t ask any questions?”
“That was while we were exiting the house. We are outside now, or can you not see that.” He blinked. “Well, the sun does look quite beautiful right now.”
John gaped silently, and then quickly he recovered his manners. “I do have some questions, if you don’t mind answering?”
Alex nodded silently. “You have decided to comply.”
John was like a loose faucet, questions spewed out left and right.
Alex yelled to get his attention, “Stop, Stop, one at a time please, or I will have to kill you, and slowly.”
John was taken aback, but recovered quickly. “Sorry, got a little bit carried away.”
The girl giggled a little louder than she had meant to. Alex turned and glared at her.
“Kara, the meaning of silent must be unknown to you, or should I shut you up my self.” He said brandishing his sword.
Kara turned her head away shyly. John caught her eye and smiled again, this time wider than before.
Alex rolled his eyes, and with a flick of his wrist. He swung his sword and sliced a small cut in John’s shirt, causing him to jump.
“Now John, this is not the time to flirt with my assistant, no matter how pretty she is,” he added to himself quietly.
John face turned pink slowly. He quickly turned his attention to Alex. “Sorry, you were saying?”
Alex sighed. “Apology accepted, you were supposed to ask me questions.” He gave a mock grin in the direction of John.
John sighed, “Oh yeah, to start, what do you mean my parents died?”
Alex raised his eyebrows slowly. “Is it not simple enough for you to understand, they died, ok, what are you, like five?”
Kara gasped. “Alex, that’s not nice.”
Alex glared in her general direction, John just blushed more.
“So my parents are dead then.” He wiped a tear from his eye. “I am sorry to hear it, what of the castle?”
“Destroyed, crushed to the ground, burned, demolished.”
“And what about this Dark Age, and dark mark thing?”
“Oh, now you ask about the important stuff. A dark age happens when a man possess the crown of darkness, a large silver, red, black, and green thing. With this crown, the man or woman can control the entirety of the goblins, orcs, trolls, giants, and wild beasts of the planet, basically pretty much every evil creature in the world. That is as long as they vow to fight for him. In every Dark Age, there is one who is chosen to save the world from this tyrant. The one who possess the dark mark, which is you.”
“But who found the crown? I would think something that powerful would be kept hidden. How many dark ages have happened before this?”
“Seven, this is the eighth, the crown has been hidden, and many adventures have tried to find it, so that they can have power. The last dark age was over three hundred years ago. The crown was hidden well this time.”
“But why has it not been destroyed yet?”
“The only way it can be destroyed is if the user is converted from evil to good, by the chosen one. This does not include killing the tyrant. If you cannot do this, then the crown must be hidden again, for however long it takes another greedy, power hungry adventurer to find it. Another small thing, only the Chosen One can touch the crown and not feel its effects.”
“How long has this dark age been happening? It can’t have been that long ago it started, otherwise we would have known it.”
“It started some time ago, in the far north of Alania, where the mountains are towering and snow lies ten feet in some areas. That is all we know. I was sent from my castle two weeks ago on a quest to find the chosen one, and lucky me. I found you without too much difficulty.”
“But how could you find me so fast, out of all those people. I mean you traveled hundreds of miles didn’t you?”
Alex held up his hand, and on his pointer finger sat an icy blue ring with silver lacing. “This is how I found you. This ring is my great, great, great grandfather’s ring, made from the same substance of the crown. Sadly he was the last adventurer, and he made this ring for himself, but according to legend, if anything is made with the same substance of the crown, it will only be used for good, not for evil. In the case of the ring, it finds the chosen one. I found that out when I read an ancient tome, there is rumored to be four more rings as well, scattered across the land, all with different capabilities.
One to find the Chosen One, and give me power to use all of the elements. But only if the crown is possessed as well, that is mine. I don’t have the crown so I can’t use the elements. So if the dark lord possessed this one he could destroy the whole world with ease. The next rings are one that has the ability to grant the user with the power to control ice, one for water, one for fire, one for earth. And if we can find these rings we can control the dark lord, and destroy the crown once and for all.”
“So you found me with that magical ring, and I am the chosen one?”
“If you don’t believe me, look at your right arm, at the wrist. There is proof right in front of you, the mark of the Age.”
John looked down slowly at his arm, engraved on his wrist, was a dark green, almost black mark in the shape of two serpents entwined but both going the opposite directions, in the middle was a crown that glowed dimly.
“What does the glowing crown mean?” a look of disbelief in his eyes.
“It tells how far we are from the dark lord. It is glowing dimly right now, which means we are nowhere near. That is a good thing I guess. It will glow brighter when we are almost in his presence”
John scratched his chin thoughtfully. “So, how do I know I can trust what you say, what if this is all a lie?”
Alex’s lip curved in a slight smile, “I read.”
He turned to the big man on his left, and whispered something in his ear. He turned back to John and raised his arms in a welcoming gesture.
“We are now indebted to you, John son of… Come to think of it I don’t know your last name, never mind, the niceties can be overlooked. We are now a company, and we will live or die to protect you from harm, can’t have the chosen one die on us, and the Dark Age go on for another hundred years or so until the next one is chosen.”
He turned to his two followers, “John, let me introduce you to these fine travelers with me.” He pointed at the first one. “This is Kara, a girl I picked up today, that shows surprising skill with a blade, very warm person, and you feel like you have been friends for your whole lives once you have had one civil conversation. She lost her parents today as well.”
“I am sorry for your loss.” John reached out and took Kara’s hand, and planted a soft kiss upon the top, in greeting. She blushed and turned her head away slightly. John saw then, that she had the brightest blue eyes he had ever seen, very rare on a redhead, but it made her more beautiful than she already was.
Alex rolled his eyes and continued. “And this,” he said pointing to the big man on his left. “Is Tarazed, my faithful bodyguard, when I need one and a loyal friend all the other times?” He turned questioningly to Tarazed, who just shrugged.
“Whatever you say sir” He had a draw that seemed other worldly.
John shook Tarazed’s hand and smiled, “Delighted to meet you sir.” He flinched under the big man’s grip.
Tarazed smirked. “Same to you, we shall have to duel some time, see if you are as good as they say.”
John grinned mischievously. “Oh, I am,”
Tarazed raised his eyebrow menacingly, “We’ll see about that, for all I know you could be as daft as they say too!” He roared with laughter that could probably be heard for miles.
John just laughed along and turned back to Alex as quick as he could.
“Now that you have met the other two, it is time to go on a scavenger hunt.”
John’s eyebrow rose slightly. “What do you mean?”
A hint of a smile followed from Alex. “Yes we are going to go on a hunt for the magical rabbit from a far away forest, and then play with it in the town. I mean, what the hell did you think we were going to do?” He cleared his throat and began again. “ No really, we are going to find supplies in the ruined village, and make our way to the castle, the first place attacked, and see if there are any clues to where the dark lord could be situated. You know the way there, so we will just follow you. We still need to be wary, there could be some stragglers still, better to wipe them out now then leave them longer.”
John nodded, “Then let’s move on.”