<BASED ON A TRUE STORIES> The Coroda Brothers of West Cherrygourd (Prolouge)

The old carpenter lowered himself into his rickety old wooden chair, his hands taughtly gripping the arm rests to support him. The chair grunted back in reply as the all too familiar rear end made contact with the chair. Treston pounder looked out the window nearby, he watched as the villagers began to amass outside the dining hall, laughing and smiling with an abundance of turnips and bushels of corn. Treston chuckled to himself as the crowd outside eventually came inside and set about eating lunch.

A few minutes passed before Jo Woolden, the old weaver sat down beside Treston, her hair tied taughtly in a bun behind her head just like she used to when she was young, but even Treston could see the grey streaks and the crows feet near her eyes. She gently slid a plate of Racoon Jerky in front of Treston causing him to smile under his magnificent blonde mutton chops.

“My ol’ favourite” rumbled Treston, but Jo didn’t hear him over the roar of the dining hall just as usual. she simply began to tuck into her own bushel of berries. It was not long before mealtime was over however, soon the young able bodied townsfolk returned to their duties. But Treston remained seated, still eating a morsel of Racoon meat with Jo silently sat at his side.

“Do you think they realise just how lucky they are?” Jo asked Treston as she watched two nearby Guardsmen walk past the dining hall and peer in a window, double checking that the Elder of the village and his wife where safely secure. Treston coughed and furrowed his brow.

“For the love of block…I sure hope they do…” Treston turned to look at Jo, his eyes seemed to light up for a moment and his expression suddenly changed to one of happiness rather than frustration.

“We where once like them however were we not?”

Jo chuckled and placed her hand on Treston’s

“we were indeed…back when this place was nothing but fields and goblins”

“Fields and goblins” Treston pulled his hand out from underneath Jo’s and waved it towards a small wooden carving on the ceiling.

“I put it there as a testament to them, but I’ve been working on a statue for them in the town square. To them, I think they belonged in that world of fields and goblins.”

Jo looked somberly at the crude carving of the two men, one with white skin and brown spiked hair and the other swarthy with a black mess of hair adorning his head. The two stood arm in arm, valiantly in front of what was then only a wooden fence gate.


Treston stood up from his chair, with a great grunt and a tremendous squeak as wooden chair legs did converse with the floor.

“People deserve to know Jo in fact I’ve written a book on the subject to be unravelled at the grand opening of my monument”

Jo looked at Treston lost for words, she wanted to tell him he was an idiot, who would come to the unveiling of these old heroes, Jo and Treston where the only two originals left? What would this next generation think? The only heroes they had grown up with where that of old Murr Burlyhand, but somehow she found it within herself to nod she knew that once Treston started a task only sleep and hunger could stop him. She doubted even the end of the world could stop him.

Treston nodded back with a newfound confidence, for a moment he looked like his young self back when they had all came to this mysterious land.

“I will tell the tale at noon in the city square tomorrow, be there Jo”


lol my rubbish story about 2 villagers that hit lvl 5 warriors I can make it a full on serious story so please if you like lemme know

1 Like

First of all, welcome to the short story writers of stonehearth :slight_smile: I enjoyed your dialogue of the elders, it portrays a real struggle which goes on every day and every generation.

Now for my favorite part, and hopefully the most productive part
Comments and Critique

If pounder is his last name it should be capitalized. Also it is strange that the two elders don’t share the same last name. However being that this is a fantasy world anything is possible.

Love that, as mentioned above it gives a feel of young vs. old

Nothing wrong here, just guessing the future (or past in this case) My educated guess would be that Treston had saved the village when he was young, and thus saving the next generation.

Absolutely love that expression! I will probably use this in some of my contemporary short stories.

were* not where

Nothing else for me to say except

don’t put yourself down like that, your short story has very impressive characterization, which for the record is one of the hardest things to achieve in a short story. I hope you write more, I am looking forward to the future of the elders, and the young people of the village.

Edit-- Put this in the lore index.

Okay so first up sorry my punctuation has never been good, sort of embarresing since English is the primary language in Australia

Treston Pounder was the randomly generated name I got for one of my villagers who also happened to become my Carpenter, I must have gotten lazy and forgot to hold the shift key when I typed it down.

Glad you liked the corn and turnips reference as well as the “For the love of Block” I wasn’t sure if they where too cheesy but I needed something to really remind the Audience that this is stonehearth and not just random fantasy

and thanks for reading, I’m off to pump out a chapter now

1 Like

Practice makes perfect, in time you will get it down.

Gotcha, just pointing it out.

Very excited for it. Keep me posted.