Over the last few weeks, Year 6 have been working toward writing a narrative based on The Tale of the Three Brothers by JK Rowling.
After listening to the story and creating a word bank for the scene, we wrote poems about death and the brothers to show how actions in the writing show personality traits.
Then, we focussed our time on ways to convey character into dialogue.
Some even wrote a script and will be filming their own play!
When we began writing our narratives, Year 6 showed their knowledge of this by making death seem evil, even though he’s been kind to the brothers.
The Tale of the three brothers
A distant time ago, there were three brothers that ventured along a cracked and uneven pathway, that twisted and turned through a misty forest. Branches littered the ground as if cautioning them to turn back, but they did not heed the warning. Instead they continued on until they stumbled upon a river, smothered in blood of travellers that had come before them. They used their mystical enchantments to entwine a bridge formed of roots and vines. As they stumbled onto the other side, a voice echoed through their minds, as an obsidian black cloaked figure raised from the ground leaving them frozen in their place. It spoke with a crooked and ear fracturing voice of despair, “You have cheated me, Death, the guardian of the dead. You have broken the curse of this river.”
The men stood beside the cloaked figure, unaware of the power that lurked beneath his cloak of souls, for this shadowy entity tugged on the strings of life. Gliding across the ground – all life forbidden to live in his presence – all the green around the men faded away, the soulless corpse grinned and let out a malevolent laugh or pure horror and corruption. In his corrupt mind he brewed a plan, one that would spread like a disease through the mortal land. As his eyes glowed with a red malicious intent, the brothers’ felt shivers dance on their spines, as he quivered closer. Before the three could take a breath, the manipulative voice had reached into their souls. For this was Death and he would not be beaten.
“Ignorant travellers usually drown in this river as they try and cross it. They perish like pathetic little worms as they fall into my grasp.” Remarked Death, his voice cruel and eyes that danced happily. “Yet you have impressed me with your mystical arts of sorcery. For this you shall be presented with one prize, as I shall show you my over-whelming power.” He stated as he smirked deviously. A wave of terror embraced the bothers and reached into their deepest fears.
The middle brother, the loneliest of the three, had been lured in by Death’s hook and was reeled towards him. Not in controlled of his actions, he strolled slowly, but confidently, his eyes filled with hope and love, in his mind his cracked and crumbling heart was being restored. “I want a ring glazed in gold and purified with emeralds. A ring so powerful that it will bring my loved ones back from your grasp.” His eyes pleaded and his weak voice filled with sadness.
“Very wise of you to outwit me, you are an intriguing young man.” Death retorted, his voice a mesmerising tone. Within a sightless second, Death was leaning over the brother, an immense presence ran through the brother’s whole body, as if he was frozen in his own fear, he couldn’t move. He leaped back away from the skinless being wanting to keep his mortality. Death snapped off his finger and crushed it into a sparkling golden ring purified in emeralds just as the brother had demanded. The sad, lonely young man, snatched it and arrogantly slid it onto his finger.
Don’t let what I have given you deceive you, as you may fall into a hole of darkness.” Death warned in a misleading voice his eyes dancing.” You should also know the ones you bring to your aid may toy and tear apart your emotions as you are the weaker one between you and them as they will never be the same as the last time they stood in this living realm.” Death chanted in a cryptic and mistrusting voice. Yet it was too late, the brother was already filled in his new power.
The preoccupied brother replied in a careless voice, “Of course…I understand this power.” Death was instantly satisfied as he knew that his work was already done here and that he was the one who had really won. He moved aside eagerly as he was waiting for the brother to ruin it all. The now hopeful brother passed into his own pool of fate as Death was going to win in this battle. by Cameron Woollard
