Tuesday, April 17, 2012

Story 1: Chapter 1 Revised

Here is an excerpt of Chapter 1 of the story I am currently working on. Please enjoy and remember that it is just a draft.


Story 1
Chapter1
            “The first step in any good recipe is gathering the ingredients.”
The door to the tavern flew open as Salla Frindane entered the Moon’s Coin. The building had a sign of a silver piece cut in the shape of a moon. Probably to suggest how cheap their drinks are, Salla thought. The female swordswoman quickly glared at all the tavern customers causing them to quickly turn away and resume their business.  Salla usually did make an entrance, but she never liked the attention.  I have to remain calm there is a prospective buyer for my services. Then again, maybe he will see the fire and spirit that I bring and consider me a better candidate. 
            Salla took out the note from her belt pouch and read it over again. It said to look for a man in red robes at the Moon’s Coin. The note also said that only female adventurers need apply. Well, if the man wanted to try anything suspicious, Salla would be ready with a dagger through his hand. Maybe he’s just one of those eccentric types, or maybe he thinks that women mercenaries were cheaper than men. But for four hundred gold pieces she would ignore these mild details and just keep up her guard.
            She saw the red robed man sitting at a table in the corner of the inn. He was eating a steak and some bread with cheese and talking to a young woman dressed in simple leathers. She’s probably my competition. The swordswoman hurried over and sat in the unoccupied seat.   
            “Look, you shouldn’t hire this girl. It looks like she can barely hold a sword. Now, I’ve been a skilled mercenary for five years now, trained since birth by my parents.” Salla blurted before she could think.
            The red robed man turned to her and stopped his conversation with the other woman. He had black hair and piercing green eyes that evaluated her in a few seconds. “How rude of you to interrupt my conversation,” he said, “but I like your initiative.  There’s more than one spot available for this adventure. Relax and I will get to you in a minute.”
            Salla blushed, but whether from her rash behavior or the man’s compliment she did not know. She waved to the bar keep for a local ale and a small serving of ham and bread. The journey to this small town had taken a long time and she had not had anything to eat since morning. A serving girl, a young blonde with pigtails, placed the food in front of her and took a few coppers. Quietly, she ate her meal and listened to the conversation.
            “So you’re a rogue from Calias. Do you have any special skills?”  The man asked. 
            The woman from Calias looked younger than Salla, her blond hair was shorter and her complexion was much darker. She paused for a second and thought about his question. She pulled out a dagger and threw it at the dartboard on the far side of the room. It stabbed into the bull’s-eye and startled the dart players there. 
            “Great, but I’ve met many rogues who could hit targets like that.” In an instant the young woman pulled more daggers from secret pockets in her sleeves, and threw two more of her long knives touching the first dagger. Salla was impressed by her speed and accuracy.
            “I can also pick most locks and can use a bow just as well,” the woman answered. 
            “Very well. You are hired, Miss Arana Shevian. You’ll be the rogue for my group. Here is 20 gold up front for any expenses that you will require.”
            “Make it 30 gold, and we have a deal.” Arana reached her hand out.
            The red robed man narrowed his eyes and sighed. “Women,” he muttered. “Okay, the deal is agreed upon,” he added a handful of coins into a brown pouch and handed it to Arana. “We start tomorrow around midafternoon. I’ve also rented a room at the Fancy Cloud Inn for you and this woman if she joins as well. ”


            “No need, I have other arrangements.” And with that the rogue left the tavern.
            “She might be more trouble than she’s worth.” He placed a napkin over his unfinished steak and left a few silvers on the table. “Not easy to digest, this steak. Needs more sauce and it is far more cooked than I would have liked. Now for you, Miss--?”
            “Salla Frindane, wandering knight and mercenary. And you are?” 
            “Izarin Pendren,” he gave a short nod. “I’ll be the leader of the group but you can handle all the battles should we encounter any. I’ll give you thirty gold pieces upfront but all your meals and provisions are up to you. Do we have a deal?”
            “First I need some details. What is it we’re searching for? 
            “I’d rather not go into the full story, but,” he paused and rubbed the stubble on his chin, “we need to get ingredients for something I’m working on. Somewhat hard to find, magical ingredients. The first is in the Firebreath Mountains, a particular herb that requires proper cultivation. After that, well, let’s talk about that in the morning.”       
            Salla Frindane nodded, accepted the coins that Izarin offered and retired to her room in the inn. The accommodations were poorer than what she expected from a town this large, but because of her long travel across three towns, she fell asleep in a few moments. She took as much rest as she could because she would probably need it for whatever strange things the man would ask her to do.
            ~~~
Arana’s first meeting with the red robed man had been interesting to say the least. She did not know what to think or whether to trust him yet. In truth it was her first contract outside of the home city. The rogue was not a beginner when it came to mercenary contracts, however there was a sense of safety and security concerning any Caliasan contracts. Her people certainly did not break or alter the rules in any way. Whatever was originally agreed upon during the creating of a contract was binding to both parties. The hiring agent would also spend excess money from their own pockets should the contract in any way fail.
            What had possessed Arana to pursue an adventure outside of her nation? Many Caliasan contracts happened around her nation. She was accustomed to the forests, plains and mountains surrounding the Capital. By taking this foreign contract she would travel different places of the world. She had always wondered what was behind the borders of her home but not until now had she summoned the courage to travel beyond.
So far, nothing was remarkably different. She was miles away from Calias and its towns, past the borders of the mountains and rivers that granted it a natural barrier from the outside world. She had even expected that when she crossed the road into foreign territory that the materials for the path would change. But it was still the same combination of rocks, brick and mortar that made up the road.
            The first few towns she entered looked just like any other town she had visited. Merchants shouted their wares, artisans plied their trade, and children played across the street. It was the small differences in customs that separated her from the foreigners. The accents she heard were different and the way that people moved evoked a carelessness and pride that no Caliasan would show.
            She drew a few eyes and heard whispers from the townsfolk that rumored about her, but none of the foreigners dared approach her. Maybe it was her dark leather armor or skin pigment, but when people mentioned the name, “Caliasan,” they would understand her differences and pay her no more heed.
            She was a rogue and a thief, some might even think her an assassin, but the stereotypes surrounding her people implied that Caliasans were direct and to the point. Collateral damage was very low and only their targets were in danger. Minor merchants and average townsfolk sighed from the knowledge and ignored her, while people who had committed secret sins continued to watch her warily.
            Arana entered inns to scare information about prospective clients and assignments, but for the most part they were uninteresting. They detailed towns’ pleas to get rid of rampaging monsters, or pilfering bandits that threatened towns. A few were for protecting caravans of merchant goods as they traveled from one city to another. None of these contracts were in the least bit challenging or difficult. They would not give her the experience she wanted or the travel she desired.
            She moved from town to town searching for just the right contract. As she traveled she sampled the various foods that taverns and restaurants served. It was all rather bland and simple. Small cuts of meat were mixed with soft cheeses and bread. It was missing Caliasan spices and peppers, as well as different seasonings that truly brought out the intrinsic taste of the ingredients.
            After entering a tavern called the Moon’s Coin, she saw a contract on the bar’s bulletin board that intrigued her. The payment was considerably higher than the others and it had requirements attached. “Only women adventurers allowed,” “An expedition to gather three ingredients across different places in the world. Please make all inquiries to the red robed man sitting at one of the tables in the Moon’s Coin,” was scrawled on the parchment. This met her first criteria that she would be able to travel to different places. The amount of gold drew her attention not because she desired more wealth, but that more gold meant that the work was either very difficult or tedious.
           The rogue decided that it was a good start for a contract and that she would interview for a position on the expedition. She walked over to the table where the red robed man was sitting and introduced herself.
            “My name is Arana Shevian and I would like to join your expedition.”
            The man, who was eating, placed his fork and knife down on the table and looked at her. He had a smile on his face and nodded. Using a napkin to wipe his mouth he motioned for her to take a seat.
            “Welcome Miss Arana Shevian. Please tell me about yourself.”
            Before Arana could begin speaking the door to the tavern slammed open and a red haired woman wearing metal armor strode noisily towards her table.
***
            Arana left the table and walked into the town’s central courtyard. All the roads of the rural town met in the center and provided the quickest route to any other point in town. She found the Fancy Cloud Inn, the resting place that Izarin had offered as accommodations for her and the swordswoman. She had refused for a few reasons. The name of the place sounded too soft for her. It was something that nobles or rich merchants would pay to sleep in. Caliasans certainly used beds and had inns, however the majority of them were simply furnished and had the bare minimum for relaxation. As she peered through the windows she knew that this inn was not such a place. Everything about the inside of the rooms made it look unnatural, the beds and rooms had a heavenly motif about them—like they were floating in the sky on puffy clouds. She could not handle the lavishness or frivolity.
            She heard footsteps from behind her and quickly scaled the building using her agility. She ran and kicked off the side of the building. The other building beside the Fancy Cloud Inn was a restaurant and its side nearly touched the inn. Arana used the proximity of the two buildings to launch herself on top of the inn.
            The night shrouded her presence and she lay down to obscure herself further. The swordswoman was heading towards the Fancy Cloud Inn. She must have been successful in acquiring a contract as well, Arana thought. Perhaps I should eliminate the competition now while I have the chance.
            Arana’s hand reached into the folds of her armor to pull free one of her secret knives. She aimed and knew that she could strike before without alerting her presence. Then she could hide her body somewhere and become the only person with a contract. However, something held her back. Surely the red robed man had seen her skills with her daggers. Arana should be more than enough for the task at hand.
            The rogue’s hand shook. Unless I am not enough and that other woman is needed as well. She stowed away her knife and kept watch over the entrance of the inn.
            The other reason why she did not accept his offer was because Arana knew that she would not be able to sleep this night. Whenever she made a contract with a client her heart beat furiously and her mind was filled with possibilities. She was excited and could not find peace of mind through rest. Instead she would have to tire herself out through some athletic means, or force herself to find some semblance of rest.
            She waited a few more hours in the dim light of the moon. Her eyes focused intently on the Moon’s Coin’s door. However, no other women entered or exited the tavern.
            Her employer, Izarin, left the tavern around midnight. He made his way to the Fancy Cloud Inn and stopped at the entrance of the establishment.
            Arana felt uneasy as he waited there. The red robed man looked straight up to her position and smiled.
            “Make sure you get enough rest for tomorrow.” With that he entered the door.
            Arana’s pulse quickened but whether from being discovered or the adventure’s start tomorrow, she did not know.
***
            Outside the village were fields and farmlands with large paved roads that bisected the openness. Far in the distance to the northeast was a large mountain range occasionally one of these mountains had fiery rivulets streaming from its peak. 
            “What path should we take? There are two roads that lead to the Firebreath Mountains, one is longer but more traveled and. It should be safer. The other path to the east is shorter but more hazardous.”
            “Well, the longer path will give me more time to gather herbs. But I don’t want to concern myself with the details. I’ll leave it up to you two.” The thief shrugged at this and just waved a hand in dismissal.  “Well, I guess you can make the choice then, Miss Frindane.”
             “Just Salla. No need to be too formal with me. But why do you trust us so quickly?” She had not meant to say the last part out loud but it escaped her lips. 
            “I can sense that you two are trustworthy. Call it intuition, but I believe you’ll honor our contract, Salla.” Izarin smiled. 
            Izarin had arranged for a few horses for the trio to ride. The robed man’s white horse looked to be of a better breed than Salla’s and Arana’s grey mares. The women’s horses were shorter and stouter and looked like donkeys in comparison. He also arranged for traveling gear and enough provisions to last for a few weeks. How long exactly would their little adventure be?
            “Two weeks, maybe three at the most. It depends on how long it takes to find the ingredients. I suppose the second ingredient should be the most difficult to obtain but we’ll get there when we get there.” Salla needed to guard her mouth more closely. Who knew what secrets she might divulge? “Do you have anything to add, Arana?”
            “No, Lord Pendren. I don’t really like to talk.” Arana sped up her horse and galloped out of their range. 
            “Lord Pendren?” Salla asked.
            “Caliasans usually talk in that manner, always proper using titles and last names with their employers. Though I doubt she would use the same honorifics with you.”
            “And why not?”
            “She’ll see you as someone that’s on her level which means you get a stronger sense of familiarity to share with each other.” Izarin adjusted his long sleeves. “Miss Shevian is a peculiar girl.”
           “Aren’t we all peculiar? We should hurry up then, there’s a good campsite we can reach if we push our horses a little.” Salla kicked her horse into a gallop and followed after the rogue.
            Izarin simply smiled and followed after his new companions.
            ~~~
            It was midday but the sun had been covered by a few clouds that blocked off the light making it seem like they had spent a lot more time travelling than a few hours. If Salla had had a horse when she made the trip to this town, it would have only taken her a day. And she wouldn’t have had to rough it, clutching her sword tightly in her sleep. There was a strange calming effect that came from travelling with these two; having comrades was comforting even if they were strangers.
            The campfire in the small hollow they found had been used by many travelers. Salla remembered this spot because she had used it the day previous when she journeyed to meet Izarin.
            “Why did you put out these fliers for only women adventurers, Izarin? Did you think that we’d be easier to control or maybe cost less than a male adventurer?” There was no hate in her voice; instead her words were tempered with curiosity.
            “I have hired many people on my travels, Miss Frindane. All kinds of people from different races, genders and nations. It is in my experience that, women are better, in general, in separating their emotion from their task, but are quick to show compassion when needed. Men will, more often than not, stick to a sense of duty and fulfill the objective no matter the cost. We are not out to save the world, Salla.  I don’t need heroes where I am going. And I would much rather journey with friendlier companions than cold battle hardened warriors.” He gave her his most heartening smile.
            “You’ve assigned me with details, battle should we engage in it, as well as other details. So I have to ask you, Izarin, if you can defend yourself if we get attacked.”
            “I can handle myself just fine, Salla. If I really have to fight, then I will. Don’t worry about me.”
            She nodded. Good. Her employer seemed to have a reasonable head on his shoulders. 
            Izarin knelt beside a small pot filled with a deep brown stew made with different meats and vegetables he took out from his saddle bags. He stirred the pot with a wooden ladle and threw in a pinch of different herbs. Some needed to be crushed in a tiny mortar and pestle, others he simply pulled and shredded with deft fingers. 
            Normally it would take an hour for a stew to boil and simmer but somehow Izarin had managed to get it started in only ten minutes. Perhaps the red robed man knew some trick to keeping the wood a high temperature. Salla had not been paying attention, but the rumbling of her stomach colored her cheeks and made her stare at the stew.
           He ladled some of the stew into three ceramic bowls and passed them out to Salla and Arana. The thief took her bowl, nodded to Izarin and sat down on a faraway log. She ate her stew in silence.
            “If you don’t mind, Izarin, I would like to ask more questions about this job.” Salla took one of the bowls and sat across from the man in charge. She did not know if it was hunger, but the stew tasted like the best meal she had eaten in a while. 
            “Sure, go ahead.”
            “Could you tell me about yourself?”
            “What you see is who I am. I used to be an adventurer when I was younger, but I’ve settled down now, I still travel now and then especially when I have need of ingredients.” He scratched the stubble on his chin. “I’m no one of particular interest.”
            “I see. And these ingredients we’re looking for. What exactly are they used for? Some alchemical potion or evil ritual?”
            “Nothing for evil purposes, I can assure you.”
            Salla thought we would speak more of the subject, but Izarin was tightlipped.     
“I only have you to talk to, boss. It doesn’t seem like the thief is the type for conversation.”
“Don’t worry, I’m sure she’ll open up with time. I know the type.” There was a slight gleam in his eyes. Izarin began to clean up the camp.
With their stew finished, the trio mounted their horses and set off once more towards the mountains.
~~~
            “Give us all your valuables and you will be harmed.” The bandit grinned. There were gaps in his teeth and Salla wanted to laugh. The bandit leader’s wicked curved sword, a massive thing with a serrated edge made her reconsider.
            “Don’t you mean ‘or you will be harmed?’” Salla asked.  
            “No, little girl. We’ll harm you whatever you do. But help us out and remove your valuables so we don’t have to do the messy business of searching your corpses.” The bandit leader turned to his group of bandits, six well-armed and well armored men. 
            If Salla and her group each took two of the men and the bandits were unskilled in combat, she could see success. Salla was not accustomed to fighting on horseback so she got off her horse and stood in front of the lead bandit. She saw that Arana had also stood on her own feet. It was said that rogues from Calias could strike with swiftness faster than a lancer could charge on horseback. She would have liked to witness it, but she could not afford to divide her attention. 
            Izarin, however, remained sitting atop his mount. He looked at the swordswoman, “Think of this as your first test. Show me what you’ve got Miss Frindane.” It was easy for him to act all high and mighty when safe on horseback away from the fighting.
            With a graceful flourish Salla unsheathed her sword and slashed at the bandit leader. Her movement was so fast that it caught him off guard and cut off his sword arm. The bandit leader crumpled to his knees, clutched his stump and screamed. Using her other hand she pulled out a dagger and threw it at another bandit. It caught him between the eyes and the blood that trickled out ran along an old scar he had on his face.
            She moved her sword to block an attack from the third bandit, barely in time, and was staggered by the attack. He used the full force of his body to launch himself and his dull broadsword at Salla. She kicked out at the fourth bandit who sought to take advantage of the opportunity, and then repaid his attack with her sword in the unlucky thug’s stomach. 
            The swordswoman threw her other dagger at the third bandit but he had enough time to dodge out of the way. She parried and twirled out of the bandit’s powerful attack, which again used too much upper body strength, and then struck him with her sword. He collapsed on the ground and pulled Salla’s sword down with his weight. She turned and saw the bandit leader charging towards her with venomous fury.
            Fiery light spilled out of the air and encircled the bandit leader engulfing him in magic. He burned instantaneously and left only a pile of black dust. 
            Salla yanked her sword free from the dead bandit and surveyed the scene. Arana was looting through the corpses of the bandits she had killed and was pulling out the numerous daggers as well. The swordswoman thought she saw have a dozen knife hilts pressed into one of their enemies. She remounted her horse and turned to the red robed man.
“You’re a wizard?” Salla asked.
“Well I’m not a priest,” he smiled. “Congratulations you’ve passed the test.”
“But I didn’t hear you saying any magic words. How did you cast that spell?”
“Magic works in strange ways. I wouldn’t expect a warrior type to understand that.” Izarin turned his horse away and began moving away. 
“Who are you really?”
“Just a humble Mage of the Flame.  No one important.”
~~~
            Arana Shevian looked through the note she had found on one of the bandits again.  She was far enough away from the mage and swordswoman for them to see her.  Capture the wizard at all costs and you will be richly rewarded, the note read.  So they weren’t just ordinary robbers but hired to kill them.  Something strange was going on here.  However, Arana had agreed to a contract with this man.  And while the contract was only verbal it was something Arana would not break. 
            The people of Calias were an honorable people—their very society contained a strange practice of willing servitude. In order to gain great honor, its citizens would voluntarily serve each under the agreements of a signed contract.
            Arana knew that Izarin would not follow this practice and so she would have to create her own contract. Perhaps a year would be a long enough time to serve this wizard.  Hopefully he would oblige this duration and they could come to an agreement. A year would bring her great honor.
            She hid the note away in the folds of her clothing and checked all the secret places for all her knives. Her thirteen Cal daggers were all where they should be. Each of her daggers had sentimental meaning to her, each one granted by a friend or relative after she had reached womanhood. Had anyone from Calias ever reached an old age, they might have several dozen daggers hidden on their persons. However for some unknown reason, her people never lived past the age of 50. Perhaps dangerous occupations kept them from living past their prime.
            Their horses crested a ridge and the group saw the full extent of the Firebreath Mountains in front of them. Arana believed they would have to set up camp before they attempted to hike up the mountains. They were far enough away from the bandits and the main road they would not have to worry about any surprises.
            Massive peaks covered in black ash stood like giant sharpened teeth. From some of the peaks oozed foul, noxious fumes. Had Arana been close, her face cover, a thin sheet of leather, would provide little protection from the dark poisonous gas. 
            A golden speck of light soared high above the mountains before it pierced the mass of earth and stone and landed deep within the peaks. She did not know exactly what the creature was, but she noticed it had large wings and a tail. 
            ~~~
            A slight touch on her shoulder pulled her out of sleep. She did not want to be unguarded but she needed as much sleep as she could get. Arana stood up as Salla came into the tent and took her place on the sleeping bag. As the swordswoman began removing her armor, the rogue moved out of the cloth enclosure to give her privacy. After they had set up camp they drew straws to see who would take watch over the night. Izarin had managed to pick the longest straw and was able to sleep for the full duration of the evening. The swordswoman had taken the first shift and patrolled around their camp.  She had been out for half the night.
            Arana felt the blades in the hidden folds and darted off into the night. The thief was silent in the darkness, making long strides through the dry soil. She needed a good run to get her mind focused.  The cool night air, tainted with the mountain smoke, invigorated her and made her feel alive. 
            After she had made a round, Arana returned to the camp and peered out into the darkness. Even in the pale moonlight Arana could see thin tendrils of smoke coming from the Firebreath Mountains. She sat on a stump and pulled out a random knife from her clothing. Without looking at it she knew it was sharpened perfectly—masterfully crafted by an old knife-smith from Calias, it would never need sharpening no matter how many enemies she cut.
            Arana heard a noise from the center of camp. A Cal dagger materialized in her other hand and she crouched down behind one of the tents. The rogue peered towards the noise and saw that the campfire had begun burning again. She crawled closer towards the fire and saw a cloaked man sitting by the fire. He held a bottle of liquid and began drinking long swallows from it. The fire glinted off rivulets of tears that streamed from his eyes. 
            She stayed behind the tent and made no move to get closer. Arana continued to watch her employer in his actions and sheathed her blades. 
            “A toast,” Izarin murmured. “I hope that you find happiness wherever you are. I’m sorry that I couldn’t go with you, but it seems I still have something left to do here.”
            He took another drink from his bottle then placed it beside him. From a pocket of his robes, he pulled out a small green book and wrote for a few minutes. After he finished, he replaced the book in his robes and took another swallow from the bottle. The mage then turned to where Arana had been watching and smiled. 
            “Come here and share a drink with me, child.”
            Arana felt the hairs on the back of her neck stiffen and heat collect on her cheeks. Most people would not be able to sense her presence. Slowly she stood up and walked over towards the campfire. The thief took the proffered bottle and took a small swallow from it. The liquor was harsher than she expected and burned as it went down. The bottle was more than half empty. 
            “What are you doing here?  Why did you call me child?”
            “I’m just remembering. Sometimes it’s good to take some time and remember things of the past and reflect on their meaning.”
             Arana knew how to control her liquor intake. Her people imported beer and ale from different countries and had also created their own brews. However, the Caliasans rarely imbibed the drinks. It was mostly for the foreigners who visited her nation.
            She did not judge Izarin for trying to drink away his problems. Loss of companions and other failures led others to having strong regrets. Drinking made it easy to forget for a short time, or to honor the memories. She drank more from the bottle, felt the liquid fire burn along her throat. It was slightly bitter but almost clear and smooth like water.
            Thinking back to her own experiences, there was no one to whom she would feel the same way. She had little connection to the clients she had been hired by, or the adventurers she had accompanied. She barely remembered every face and assignment she had experienced. They began to blur over the years, and while she still felt accomplishment from them. Individually they were not important.
            When Izarin tried to make her drink more she shook her head. She did not want to be inebriated for the coming day, though she was still well under her limit.
            “I have to continue my patrol of the campsite, Lord Izarin.”
            She excused herself and he nodded.  Arana felt the alcohol dull her senses but she continued to press forward into the darkness.





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