The Tarinn Fables: Kwennsefulass – Prologue!

Hey all! If you’re still on the fence about purchasing my book – then let me gift you with a free look at the prologue of The Tarinn Fables: Kwennsefulass!



Step by confused step, he slowly made his way through the dense underbrush of the forest. He didn’t know where he was, or even who he was. It seemed like years ago when he woke, but in truth, it had only been a few hours. The man had arisen from what seemed like an eternity of nightmares and untold horror – none of which he could remember. Much like his own identity.

As he slowly entered the world of reality, he felt an immense pain on his right cheek, as if someone had sliced him open with cold steel. This was odd, considering the fact that there was a mysterious sword lying right next to him, gleaming brilliantly in the morning sun. It had a dark lime handle with auburn ends, and a solid gold finger guard that was encrusted with a magnificent blue stone.

This weapon left the perplexed man awestruck, and when he absent-mindedly reached for the handle – and clasped it – he felt a surge of power that replaced his cheek pain with an even greater hurt. He tried desperately to let go, but the sword would not allow it. It wanted the grief-stricken person a taste of true power, and true consequence.

Suddenly the pain stopped, just as quickly as it began. Gasping, he released the sword gradually as pain seared its way through the rest of his body. Foe some inexplicable reason, however, he felt refreshed – like shedding an old skin.

He felt incredible. Reborn.

Clasping his chest to feel his madly beating heart, the breathless man noticed that he had another mysterious item – a necklace – a square shaped, emerald coloured necklace. It had a simple, peculiar design, and one finely engraved word; ‘Kwennsefulass’.


It was a word strangely familiar to him. Pondering all of this, the man continued to trudge through the forest, not knowing why. Maybe he was looking for help? Maybe some place to die? Either way, he was determined to go on.

About an hour later, the fatigued man heard the song of water – a bubbling stream. Rushing to it, he proceeded to take mad slurps, and wash away the grime. It was then he finally caught a glimpse of himself.

He stared into the pool and saw two brown eyes look intently back at him. He had a thick, black head of hair – almost to the point of shagginess. His body was well built and he possessed a pale complexion. Nothing, however, could have prepared him for what he saw on his bothersome right cheek; an immense scar that began at the corner of his eye near his nose, and extended slantwise right down to his jaw. Terrified, the man felt his cheek to make saw it wasn’t a dream.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t.

He considered the possibility that the pain he had felt previously was inflicted by a real dagger, and not an ephemeral one. Now he was even more baffled. Standing up, he continued on. Hours later, he trudged miserably. His stomach was growling in protest, adding hunger to the pile of negative feelings he continually suffered. His gut felt like an empty cave, just waiting to be filled up with valuable food. He tried to distract himself from his appetite by examining his necklace. That didn’t last long, for suddenly, the trees that had surrounded him vanished. He was finally out of the blackness of the forest, and overlooking an incredible piece of scenery.

< . >

In the distance was a small town, barely alive with human activity. Further away was the most amazing thing the man had ever seen; a colossal stretch of water as far as the eye can see. Dotted along its edge were small boats and ships docking into the settlement after a hard day’s work, for two suns – one white and the other red – slowly sunk into the horizon with a mute blazing glory. There was something undeniably spiritual about it, and this made the man very relaxed. He’d heard the name of this water before…

The sea!

Yes! Yes, that was it! Hoping for some answers and a place to rest his weary feet, the man headed for the town.

As he got tantalisingly closer, the townsfolk gradually noticed his arrival and wondered where on earth he had come from. This was most certainly a change in the daily routine of fishing and shipping cargo! A strange man in ragged cloths seemingly appearing out of nowhere was coming towards them and, not knowing what to do; some of the people simply went indoors to avoid him. Parents called their kids in, and shopkeepers packed up and left their stalls, leaving the main road deserted.

As the stranger wandered dazedly through the town with a pleading look in his eyes, he was stopped in his tracks by a gruff looking fisherman with a large grey moustache and a bandanna.

“’Ello, and what can we do fer ya?” he grunted in greeting.

Finally speaking to another person, the man cleared his dry throat, “I… I don’t know…”

Eyeing this new arrival suspiciously, the burly man tried again. “Err, okay. Do ya need any help? What ‘bout some information? Ya lost? Huh? Huh?”

Groaning in pain and confusion, the outsider tried asking a question. “Where am I? How did I get her?”

Clearly unprepared for such a response, and realising that this ragged man needed some serious help, the fisher gave up. “Look buddy; try the inn at the end of the town. That’s info central down there, that is.” He pointed toward the ocean. “Ya can’t miss it.”

Nodding in understanding, the new arrival shuffled off.

“Hey buddy!” The fisherman called quickly, “What’s ya name?”

Turning, the man replied, “I wish I knew.” With that, he walked off again.

Watching him slowly recede in the distance, the fisherman gave a sigh and went home. “This is gonna get interestin’” he muttered.

The inn was called the Queezy Fennick.

Odd, the man thought.

Out the front of the building was a quaint little fountain surrounded by an earth covered in small pebbles that led straight to the front doors. In the sunset they were illuminated into a fiery orange. Inside, the man heard music, conversations, laughter, and the occasional glass breaking. He breathed deeply and went in. Inside, he almost gagged on the smoke. Surely they can open a window? He thought to himself. Wiping his face, he proceeded to the counter for questions. He waited until he was served by a middle-aged man, probably the owner.

“Welcome to the Queezy Fen—”

The server stopped mid-sentence when he saw the man’s scar and torn cloths.

“Good God!” His eyes bulged in shock, “What the hellaroony happened to you?” He then snapped his large fingers, “Jeleenn! I need you for a moment!” He shouted.

At that moment a girl, who was probably seventeen or eighteen, with a slightly tanned complexion, long brunette hair, and striking sea green eyes, came bustling out the door. She carried a tray of mugs.

“Yes Dad? What is it?” she answered.

“Help me with this bloke. He looks half dead!” the owner observed none-too subtly.

The other customers, becoming aware of the commotion, began staring at the new arrival.

“Are you hurt? Have you been in a fight?” asked the girl known as Jeleenn. She nodded to the man’s sword.

“Um, well…” stammered the man.

“What’s your name?” interrupted her father.

All these questions! The man was tired of questions? He finally exploded.

“I’m fine dammit!” he cursed. Silence filled the inn.

Taking charge, he finally decided to answer a question, rather than ask one.

“I… I think my name is Kwennsefulass.”

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