The Siege of Torril Castle

Well, I happen to be writing a novel in my free time. If I were to post all of what I have written, this would be a very long post, so I will just include a sample, for your enjoyment. I will probably never include more than this, unless you people really, really want to read more. I will also probably never publish the novel. This is the first page and a half or so of the introduction.

Prologue
As the tired soldier ran through the forest, he could hear the muffled thundering of hooves against the dirt path. Knowing that his pursuers would soon overrun him, he hastened his pace, although he was already exhausted from the miles he’d ran.
He looked behind him, seeing only trees and bushes. However, he knew better than to stop; the cyrens could be as quiet as mice if they so desired. At least, the ones on foot could. Panting, and with a terrible ache in his side, he wondered how he could even stay on his feet.
Suddenly, a loud whistling noise rang through the forest as a needle-sharp harpoon flew by him and embedded itself into a moist log nearby. He kept running.
A cyren shouted from behind in a scratchy voice: “You’ll never escape!” He kept running. A blinding flash of brilliant white light exploded In front of him as a harpoon coated with a combustible substance was lofted into another tree in front of him, this time causing the base to be destroyed and sending the rest careening toward him. He kept running. The trunk landed inches to his left, crashing to the ground with a deafening slam. He kept running.
Finally, he came to the end of the path, digging his heels into the wet dirt. A shower of twigs, leaves, and mud plummeted down an enormous drop off and were lost in the hazy chasm. Gazing down into the abyss, he realized how close he was to joining them.
The cyrens were at this point obviously not trying to quiet their charge, as he could hear their armor clanging, their mounts roaring, and themselves giving gruff commands and shouting tales of his impending demise to him from afar. Soon, however, they would be anything but from afar, as they continued their relentless charge toward him.
Before long, the soldier could make out the silhouettes of the fastest of their ranks coming through the woods. They neared him, and he wearily drew his long blade from its sheath on his back. The small emeralds and sapphires adorning its pommel gleamed in the afternoon sunlight. He knew, however that he would never be able to fend them all off, probably not any of them at all. Now was the time for him to find out though, as the seven-foot tall humanoid monsters emerged from the shadowy thicket, their warriors bristling with spears and axes.
The three in front advanced upon him and he readied himself for their attack. Taking a small step back, he almost fell as his left foot slid off the edge. Quickly righting himself, he lunged toward the foremost of the cyrens. Catching it off guard, it stumbled backward at his blow, even though the blade itself was deflected off of its armor uselessly.
Another one of the cyrens retaliated for its shaken companion, being parried by the soldier, but draining him even further of his strength. At this point, he looked to both sides and bolted to his left, running along the side of the cliff until he could run no longer, collapsing to the ground.
The cyrens continued to chase him, showing no signs of fatigue themselves, until stopping in front of him, watching intently to see his next move. One of them dismounted its inneltsik, a large equine beast with black and white striped fur, a round, leechlike mouth and four eyes in a circular pattern around it, and walked toward him. Seeing the cyren, he slowly rose to his feet, looked behind him, and leaped off the edge of the cliff, lost in the mist.

Hope ya like! Feedback is appreciated.
EDIT: Heck, I guess I'll post a little more.
The chapters are pretty short, because I don't exactly do well staying on one topic for a really long amount of time.

Chapter One: The Palace

I- The Palace
King Fondun looked out upon the once-great Aro Glefclen City from the governmental palace balcony. He saw nothing but ash, flame, and smoke. The entire metropolis was burned in the night, including his palace, but he and many others defended themselves from the cyren invaders. The raiding party was only interested in destroying the buildings and crops, leaving those who fought back.
As he prepared to search for survivors, one of his remaining guards rushed toward his makeshift shelter in the rubble.
“Sir!” He said in a heavy accent from Menlocra, a large region in the southern reaches of Recoriland, an isolated continent in the far west. It sounded like “Seer”
“Ve have deescovered a group ov ceeveeleans trapped under ze rubble” The king replied: “Go! Rescue them with haste!”
“Ov Courze, seer”, the guard stammered as he sprinted away.

The smoke caused by the smoldering ruins was depriving the trapped group of air, the heat was overpowering, and they began to hear shouts in the distance and wondered if the lack of oxygen was making them imagine things. Then, the piles of broken stone and charred wood were lifted slowly, until the faces of their rescuers were visible.
“Heer zay are!” Shouted the very same guard that had sought the king’s advisory minutes ago as he once again sprinted away, but this time returned with a host of others equipped with picks and shovels whom then started digging vigorously through the rubble until the civilians were free.
Relieved to be breathing clear air again, one of the survivors, named Varn, looked around and felt a pang of despair to see his home razed to the ground. What drove these cyrens to destroy so suddenly? Only months ago, the cyrens had kept to themselves in the mountains, but recently, they had struck hard and fast at many places across the globe, with devastating results. He was snapped back into reality by the yells of the King’s Guard and the king himself as they came toward the ragtag group of survivors.
The first time Varn saw the king, it was a sight he would not soon forget. Surrounded by his resplendently decorated guards, he would’ve failed to stand out if it weren’t for his solid gold body armor, long, trailing cape of wolf fur with the head still on, and his large, serrated broadsword in a studded hilt at his waist. He was a picture-perfect monarch, not only in appearance, but also character. There were nearly none who were unhappy with their ruler from the time of his election all the way to that of the destruction of their flourishing city.
Varn himself was about fifteen years old, five and a half feet tall, and wore an unassuming beige full-body tunic and canvas leggings. He had a rusty copper dagger, but was otherwise unarmed. If you asked him, he would waste no time telling you about himself though, not concerned with such trivial matters, only the constant challenge of day-to-day survival. And now, this challenge has just become far harder. Without the city to reside in, there was nowhere left to turn. But the Resistance… he would think on that later.
The group of citizens was directed to the King’s Palace along with any other survivors, and the large group waited just outside, wondering what the King would do.
Few were talking, as most were still shocked from the raid and trying to figure out where they would live now. For a while, they all stood there by the palace, trying not to breathe in too much smoke until a guard ushered them inside. Varn had never been into King Fondun’s palace before, and even in its partial destruction, it was magnificent. He passed through the gardens and courtyards, rich with exotic blooming flowers and stone columns with ivy wrapped around them, to reach the inner gates. These were several stories high and had archers patrolling the tops. Beyond these was a small but magnificent door, with a golden arch above it and a handle embedded with some sparkling gem unknown to Varn. It gleamed a bright yellow in the sunlight, but had a green core.
The guard opened this door and the group collectively gasped as they entered the hall. Inside was a brilliantly decorated carpet leading down a corridor longer than any could’ve thought would fit inside the palace. Above this, at regular intervals were silver chandeliers with unlit candles in them. The enormous stained-glass windows depicting great battles and faraway lands full of mystery and danger provided enough light. It was these that were the most impressive. They were each as tall as the wall, about 30 feet, and three fathoms across. A different scene was displayed on all of them, and because of their highly transparent, but still bold colors, the entire hall was bathed in a rainbow of sunlight, gleaming like a diamond.
“Come on! We haven’t enough time today to stand gawking at the decoration. Come on! In!” said the guard in a gruff tone as he gestured for the crowd to enter. The muffled thuds of shuffling feet filled the hall as everyone quietly strode in. After a minute or so of walking, the guard opened a door in the side of the hall and they turned, to enter a large ballroom with brilliantly carved wooden statues looking down at them from high pedestals and a marble floor with many designs made from black and white stone intertwined. At the far end was a short flight of stairs, and at the top of those stairs was His Majesty, the Elected Official of Aro Glefclen City, King Eredus Almof Fondun. As they stood in the room, he began to speak.
“Welcome, my friends, to my once-great halls. I see that you are weary, and I see your fear. You wonder how we will continue without the protective walls of our city. My answer is: the same way that we always have. We have, ever since these cyrens declared themselves rulers, fought them and survived. This will not change! We shall rebuild our city, grow our crops again, and we shall persevere. Eventually, we will be strong enough to strike back at those blasted monsters, and they will regret ever crossing the mighty civilization of Aro Glefclen!”
His speech was enough to give some spirit back to the people, and many clapped, one even cheered. Within the next few days, all were working hard to repair the former glory of their city. But Varn was restless…

Alright, that's it for now.