As mentioned in the previous blog on the power and impact of words I will further demonstrate the vivid imagery words can create. To begin I will give a brief definition of high fantasy. Next I will give excerpts of a novel written by my boyfriend. I do warn any readers of the graphic nature of the excerpts and suggest you not continue reading if you have a weak stomach.
Definition of high fantasy:
High fantasy or epic fantasy is a subgenre of fantasy that is set in invented or parallel worlds. High fantasy originated with the writings of William Morris, George MacDonald, and Lord Dunsany, and came to fruition through the work of authors such as J. R. R. Tolkien and C. S. Lewis, whose major fantasy works were published in the 1950s. High fantasy, along with sword and sorcery, has become one of the two genres most commonly associated with the general term fantasy.
High fantasy is defined as fantasy fiction set in an alternative, entirely fictional ("secondary") world, rather than the real, or "primary" world. The secondary world is usually internally consistent but its rules differ in some way(s) from those of the primary world. By contrast, low fantasy is characterized by being set in the primary, or "real" world, or a rational and familiar fictional world, with the inclusion of magical elements.
Excerpt from Dragon’s Heart:
The estate, despite the body that had been dragged from his personal chambers, was oddly silent to the Mercenary. Normally his personal guards, many of whom were mercenaries who had retired into his service, noticing that he paid better and for less work. It was a strange that none were wandering the halls. Everyday he saw different guards, each hour they changed their patterns, but to have none in any one place was un-heard of. His fingers began to itch, his hands straying to the hilts of his swords as he picked up the pace. Something was wrong, there was no foreseeable reason for none of his guards to be…the Mercenary let the thought trail off as his fingers brushed lightly against Elapse, the Dragons Eye flashing images in front of his golden-grey eyes.
“Why” he said quietly, continuing to walk, “did you not tell me?” There was no need to go into further detail; Soryion would know exactly what he meant.
“I did not feel that it was a pressing matter” his steward replied, “Everything is under control.”
“Under control?” he growled, “You call ten armed men in my estate under control?”
“They are being watched” Soryion pointed out.
“Yes, but the simple fact that they are within my walls means you have all failed. I told you when I hired all of you that you were to allow just one within the estate’s walls.”
“They insisted” his steward shrugged, “I did not think it would be a problem, sir.”
“Oh no” he said sarcastically as he rounded a corner, looking directly at the backs of several men who held crossbows and lined the walkways. All fifty-seven crossbows were aimed directly at the space below, at the ten men in dark cloaks. “Not a problem at all.” For him, it wasn’t a problem, but if these men had wanted to…they could have likely slain more than a few of his guards.
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