Sample Script of upcoming series.

 

FADE IN:

EXT. FOREST EDGE - SUNSET

Golden rays pierce the thick canopy. Leaves glow. Shadows stretch. A FIGURE steps into view — tall, draped in dark blue robes that shift and shimmer with mysterious symbols.

His face — skeletal, decaying. Taut, pale skin hugs a prominent jaw. Hair like dying weeds — strands of white and black clinging to a nearly bare scalp.

This is **SARGON**.

Beside him strides **GRIMMRIC** — a powerful, proud warrior. Thick beard, broad shoulders, his hand casually resting on a long battle-blade.

                                GRIMMRIC
              It has been too long since we last sought news from the mainland, Sargon.

**SARGON** strokes his chin, his expression unreadable.

                                SARGON
              You would risk capture and execution to visit the Black Empire?
              I would hope that, if nothing else, your exile has taught you
              that it is best to avoid the politics of the mainland kingdoms.
              Be patient, Grimmric.

They stop. Face each other — not quite adversaries, not quite at ease. Tension builds.

**GRIMMRIC**'s brow furrows. He looks past SARGON, out at the horizon.

                                GRIMMRIC
              We have been prisoners here for five years.

                                SARGON
              You speak as if we are stranded. Finding this island and the
              underground galleries was ideal for our purposes.

**GRIMMRIC** shakes his head.

                                GRIMMRIC
              Your purposes, perhaps. This place is peaceful enough, but too remote.
              It has felt more like a tomb to me.

Thunder rumbles in the distance. The clouds are growing darker.

**SARGON** sighs. He turns toward the cottage in the distance — their home.

                                SARGON
              We have worked too hard to leave this place.

A horse’s whinny. A RIDER approaches — youthful, golden-haired, wrapped in earthy leathers.

This is **ARIC**.

                                SARGON (CONT'D)
              How went your afternoon hunt, Aric?

**ARIC** opens a pannier, revealing four rabbits.

                                ARIC
              The forest has been kind. We’ll dine on roasted coney and wild berries.

                                GRIMMRIC
              Four hare is one too many. What shall we do with the extra?

**ARIC** laughs, spurring his horse toward the cottage.

                                ARIC
              We shall share it, of course.

**GRIMMRIC** looks at the darkening sky.

                                GRIMMRIC
              I’m going inside before the rain starts. Coming?

**SARGON** remains, staring at the horizon.

                                SARGON
              Soon.

**GRIMMRIC** nods and walks off. Wind begins to stir, rustling the trees. Leaves swirl.

**SARGON** fingers the BLOODSTONE hanging from a cord around his neck. Crimson glints.

He whispers:

                                SARGON (CONT'D)
              Adaren, I loved you.

His reflection flickers in the gem — and then, a shadow moves in the tall grass.

**SARGON** narrows his eyes... but sees nothing.

                                SARGON (CONT'D)
              A fox perhaps.

He turns and walks toward the cottage... never noticing the figure watching from the grass.

                                                        CUT TO:

INT. BARN - NIGHT

The watcher creeps into the shadows — this is **CARDWELL**, cloaked, desperate.

He moves with purpose.

(To be continued...)