The dark parts of the video aren't actually dark, the video recorder just makes them look dark
Also, here's the opening to thr Orkmoth book I'm writing if anyone wanted to see.
Chapter 01; The Blacksmith
"Now, quickly bring the pot", growled the short bearded man. His hand curled swiftly around the worn tongs, and with a careful grip, poured the molten iron into the furnace. "Just a few more minutes... lad? Where are you my boy?", he bellowed questionably. Furiously, the hairy, pot-bellied man waddled around his cluttered workshop, to the small staircase in the corner. Beside it was a small hatch. "Horro! Boy! What are you doing in here, there is plenty that needs be done..." The young man shrugged, slowly resting his vstout face into his thin, bony hands. "17 years, and still... Horro, your mother would have loved to see you now, you're a hard-working lad. And you wouldn't know it, but your mother was a very hard-working lady, one of the best smith's in the city", he assured. Horro brought his face out from below his hands. "So your mother would love it if you'd come and help out around here!" signalled the bearded man, as he lifted Horro to his feet. Both of the gnomes quickly stumbled into the workshop.
Grawmar Xeroth was a caring, but fierce gnome of Vinewood City, and his blacksmith was nothing but the best around, perfect for the soldiers staying in the nearby barracks. His son, Horro was a shy, but extremely ambitious gnome, confident enough to take on anything bigger than himself. Horro squirmed quietly toward his father.
"Father?" he murmured.
"Yes, lad?" he responded unconvincingly.
Horro rushed to his feet and asked breathlessly, "What's it like to fight in the great war". Grawmar hesitantly placed the tongs onto the table. "You know, the war against Seasalk, for the honour of our country," he continued.
"There is nothing honorary in war!" Grawmar roared. Impatiently he continued, "Thousands of soldiers sign up... Supposedly patriotically... Then lose all emotion through the true feeling of war... And once struck, directly, by the power of a blade, fall... Not thinking about their country, not at all, but simply thinking, why?" He silenced, then slowly calmed himself. "That's why you will never be joining, " he finished hastily. Horro sighed. Grawmar stared as Horro fumbled sluggishly upstairs. “It's always war and fighting with boys around here...” he muttered.
Just as Horro got to bed, he heard a shout coming from just outside. "Tap!", a rock lightly hit his window, then fell, feather-like, into a pale-faced boy's hands.
"What do you want, Wrawk?" Horro questioned quietly. Wrawk lengthened his arm to his pocket, and yanked out a piece of paper agressively.
"A new barracks opened just around the corner, we can sign up there and join the Orkmoth 43rd regiment!" he snapped. Horro hesitated awkwardly.
"But, what if..."
"Oh it's fine! Come on, quick!" Wrawk concluded. Horro half-excitedly jumped out of bed, forcing himself into his clothes. He silently shuffled passed his father's bedroom door, and out to follow his friend.
Horro walked hesitantly toward the barracks, with his confident, sometimes arrogant friend Wrawk; whom walked breathlessly with excitement. Nearing the barracks, some Andrians ruthlessly branched around the corner, blocking their path directly.
"Whot woold yoo be doing at this time of night't," one of them yapped. Wrawk stared at them, and stubbornly held Horro back.
"We'd be going to sign up for the 43rd regiment," Wrawk responded over-confidently. Both birds impolitely broke down to uncontrollable laughter.
"Bo'o'th of yoo! Yoo, thin, scra'a'wny... children... Joining the war!?" one squawked. Wrawk momentarily stood, glaring viciously, before seizing one of the avians by the throat. Horro tried helplessly to calm Wrawk, and make him stop, but he squirmed out of Horro's grasp. Wrawk had, by now, tore the beak on one of the birds, and had his blood covered fist clenched on it's left eye. The bird, which went on to let out a powerful screech, fell to the floor. The other ran aimlessly down the mist shrouded road. Wrawk broke to his knees, by the body of the unconscious creature. Carelessly, he managed to get to his feet, still facing the body.
“Come on,” he said fearfully, and continued down the road; Horro following hastily behind.
Only 600 words... Target: 80000, maybe
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