My book

Joined: 28 Dec 2007 Posts: 36

Since everyone is posting works of their own, I figured I'd throw in a piece of the book I'm working on. I need some good constructive criticism, so feel free to tear it a new one.

BTW, it says chapter 2, but it might as well be the opening chapter.

�2008 Sonny Willis and Eric Summers (stupid, i know, but i had to do it)

2. No Choice.

The rain stung Bethany�s face as she looked up to confirm that her mount was still following the correct path. She pulled her cloak tighter to her body, but it was not much help against the incessant rain. She felt as if her bones were floating, she was so soaked through. The chill wind pummeled her as her dracmor soared through the gray skies above Sanctus Morea, the cold robbing her of the last of any good spirits she might have had at the beginning of their journey. A roaring of wind and thunder filled her ears, making it difficult to concentrate on guiding the dracmor along the eddies and currents. Her rump was raw and sore from six days of flying. At any other time, she would have exulted in the pure exhiliaration of soaring through the skies, but much of the joy had gone from her life with the death of her husband. Still, she reflected, there was no chance under the sky that she would neglect to finish the work her husband had begun so many years ago.
�Today,� she whispered to herself, �I will serve your honor, my love. Today a human shall enter the halls of Sanctus Morea for the first time in over six hundred years. I had expected to make this journey at your side, not as envoy myself. Oh, my dearest Brackus, you worked so hard to change history. It is unfair that you were not allowed to see your plans reach fruition.�
A small sob racked her body as thoughts of her beloved husband flashed across her mind. Their wedding night, when she was but fifteen. Brackus� gentle touch reassuring the shy and scared stranger before him. Striding into the Altamant Court at her husband�s side, the first woman to ever attend a meeting of the highest governors and magistrates of Ithalus. Brackus taking her out on her first dracmor flight. She could remember vividly her apprehension upon first coming close to the large dragonkin, but her husband had finally coaxed her onto the great beast, and in doing so introduced her to her greatest joy; flying. So many nights of arguments. So many nights of lovemaking. So much pain. So much pleasure. So much love.
Fifteen years she had been wed to the King of Ithalus. First and foremost a marriage of convenience, she and Brackus had been fortunate enough to develop a deep and abiding love for one another. She alone, of all his many thousands of subjects, understood and cared for the man himself. Brackus had taught her such things as combat and warfare tactics, she had taught him the value of patience and an open ear. They had complemented each other so well, each fulfilling needs of which the other was not even aware existed. Bethany felt as though a hole had been torn in her soul. What would she do without her mate? What could she do, other than go onward, and ensure the peace for which they had struggled so long? They had accomplished so much in their time together, from brokering the Gatesprocket Accord � effectively ending one hundred years of open warfare on Shatterisle � to establishing new towns and communities to shelter the refugees of the ever-increasing dragon raids along the lake towns. Ten years earlier, Brackus let Bethany in on his most secret desire; to make peace with the elves, and again strengthen the ties between the two largest kingdoms of Arrongeth. They had worked ceaselessly to gain audiences with the elven magistrates and politicians. Ten years of bribes and promises, compromise and demands. Today, she would see their plans paid in full. Today, she would enter Sanctus Morea, and Woodland Keep, the stronghold city of the elven Empire. She would finally meet with the elven Emperor, whom no human in living memory had ever seen, and bring peace to their lands.
Bethany roused herself from her thoughts as a muffled shout rose on the wind. She looked at her companion, who was flying to her left and slightly ahead of her. Steven was pointing at a small clearing a half-mile or so to the right of their position, very close to the edge of a great cliff overlooking a clouded valley. She could just make out a post jutting from the center of the clearing, an unlit lantern dangling from a crosspiece set into the wood. With an answering wave to Steven, Bethany gee�d her mount toward the clearing and guided the dracmor in for a well-practiced soft landing. She knew Steven was not quite so comfortable with his mount, so she immediately leapt from the back of her dracmor to hold it from starting as the other mount landed with a thump and a flurry of buffeting downdrafts. Bethany closed her eyes and turned her head away as dirt, dust and leaves wrapped her in a miniature cyclone.
�Very nice landing, My Lady,� said Sir Steven Westmore.
�I should have let you land first, you bloody man,� Bethany replied, a hint of a smile touching her lips. She was extremely filthy, the mud and muck from Steven�s landing having cemented itself to her wet clothes. �This is no way to present myself to an emperor.�
�I would be willing to wager, My Lady, that the elves would not have you present yourself so. We should have accomodations prepared for our rest before we meet with the Emperor. I sent a letter expressing my desire for such a few days before we left Ithalia.� Steven looked around, taking stock of their surroundings. They seemed to be alone, but the downpour made it difficult to see very far into the woods around them. His body tensed, and he prowled on the balls of his feet, ready for anything that might come.
�Ah,� Bethany replied with a small sigh, �thank the gods for small favors. I am glad you do not leave much to chance, my old friend.�
Steven led the mounts to a nearby tree, tethering the dracmors before tossing each a haunch of deer meat from the packs strapped across their scaly flanks. He and Bethany then turned to look at the lantern hanging from the wooden post. It was a beautiful piece of work, scrolled and elegant. Steven found a small drawer built into the base which contained a goodish number of small wooden sticks, one end of which was coated in sulfur. That the elves could leave this many firestarts out in the open gave testimony to their wealth. The money represented by those little sticks would have fed an Ithalian family for nearly two months.
�I suppose we should light it to signal the elves that we�ve arrived,� Bethany mused. �It would seem the logical thing to do, though I have my doubts that the firestarts will prove sufficient in this mess.�
�Logical, perhaps. But not necessary,� came a deep voice from behind them.
Steven whirled around in a blur, half-crouched as he began to draw his sword from his hip. An elf stood before them, one eyebrow cocked and a half-smile on his lips.
�You don�t really want to do that, do you?� It was not entirely a question.
�My apologies,� Steven said with a respectful half-bow, wary eyes still fixed on the elf. He sheathed his partially bared sword. �A nasty habit I have developed for when people sneak up behind me.�
�Not necessarily a bad habit, if you ask me,� the elf replied, a handsome grin spreading across his face. �Welcome to our lands, My Lord and Lady. I am Finlinolastinof, a most humble son of Sanctus Morea. I would be honored if you would call me Finlin. My companion and I shall be your guides.� At this, a female elf stepped out of the woods behind Finlin. She was dressed much like the male, in leather breeches, a flowing green shirt and padded deerskin boots. She made no sound as she approached the trio. �My counterpart,� said Finlin, �Briannaishenal, Mother of the Trees. You may call her Brianna or Bree.�
�It is my honor and privelge to meet you both, My Lady,� Brianna said, offering the most elegant bow Bethany had ever seen.
�I thank you warmly for your hospitality and grace, Master Finlin, Mistress Brianna,� Bethany said, attempting to approximate the bow in return. �I am the Lady Bethany Du�Bronch, steward of Ithalus, as I�m sure you already know. My companion is Sir Steven Westmore, Arms Master and Marshal-General of the Kingdom of Ithalus.�
The elf called Brianna stepped forward. �I was most sorry to hear of the loss of your husband, My Lady Du�Bronch. It would be my pleasure to offer you my hospitality for the duration of your stay among the elves. Please consider anything in my possession to be your own.� There was a slight tension in the elf�s voice, but Bethany could not determine the source of it.
�You are most kind, Mistress Brianna. Please accept my gratitude for your generousness. I have the utmost confidence that this meeting shall be the beginning of a new age of peace and prosperity between our peoples. If the two of you are indicative of the remainder of your people, Ithalus will be deeply honored to extend our hands and lands in friendship to Sanctus Morea.�
�Well spoken, Milady,� Finlin replied. �If you will follow us please, we have horses tethered a short distance from here. Ah, excellent, the rain seems to be stopping! We should have a pleasant journey to Woodland Keep, then. If I may ask, how often do your dracmors require feeding?�
�About twice a week,� Steven replied as they traversed a wooded path. �That should be enough to keep �em happy. You have to be careful with them, however. They startle easily, so make sure your people don�t sneak up on them like you did me.�
�I shall see it done as soon as we reach the Keep,� Finlin said.
As they walked, Steven occasionally glimpsed movement from the corners of his eyes, although when he turned his head to see what caused the motion, there appeared to be nothing. �The two of you didn�t come alone, did you, Master Finlin?� he inquired.
�Most certainly not,� said Finlin. �Skilled as I am, I would be remiss in my duty if any harm were to come to you and Milady Du�Bronch while you were under my care. My warriors and students give us escort through the wood, and will protect you from any ill.�
�Warriors and students? What exactly is your postition within the elven heirarchy, Master Finlin?�
�I am proud to be named Dancer of the Blades by my people. It is my duty and privelege to train our finest warriors the combatative arts, as well as our most ancient woodlore and history.�
Steven eyed the elven warrior with a new respect. �Then it is all the more my privelege to make your aquaintence. We must talk sometime soon about your methods of training the...ah, combatative arts.�
A wide grin split Finlin�s face. �That we shall.�

��

As the horses traversed the winding path down the cliffs, the riders were forced to lapse into silence in order to concentrate on their mounts� footing. Bethany took advantage of the silence to study these fascinating individuals. Until this point, she had based her view of the elves around the diplomats and ambassadors who had come to Ithalia to meet with her husband. The elven ambassadors with whom she was used to dealing could not have been any more different than the pair that currently guided her and Steven. The diplomats had seemed the embodiment of culture and refined politeness. They had been dressed in the finest silk robes, which were covered with intricate and mysterious patterns of varying colors and shapes, ranging from lotus flowers and animals such as tigrets and larks to unrecognizable scrawl. Their manners were those of strictest courtesy, and they spoke with a flowered tongue that all but the most experienced human politicians found overwhelming. Finlin and Brianna, by comparison, contained a wilder side, and seemed to be in total communion with the forest and nature. Their drab, earthen dress was tailored to better blend with their environment, and the two of them seemed to possess almost feral mannerisms. Oh, they were polite and well-spoken, but Bethany noticed that as they moved, they nearly prowled. Their eyes constantly scanned the woods around them, and their heads jerked to and fro, sometimes in unison, like a pair of birds alerted to danger. Even their horses seemed to possess these traits. Bethany would have sworn that it was impossible, but she could not hear the horses make a single noise as they progressed down the trail. It was obvious these elves were perfectly suited for woodland life.
Finlin was very handsome. Not the rugged, rough human handsome she was used to seeing back in Ithalus, but appealing in a more ethereal manner. He was smaller than Steven, with a lithe, powerful build and reddish-blond hair pulled back into a topknot on the upper portion of his head. Finlin obviously had a humorous side to him, but for the most part his demeanor showed that he was not someone to be taken lightly. He carried himself as the Dancer of the Blades; the elf that all turned to in crisis, and for guidance, training and support. Finlin was apparently Sanctus Morea�s version of a Marshal-General, who led his people against all foreign threats. He was a man with whom Bethany very much wished to maintain an amicable relationship.
Handsome as Finlin was, however, he paled in comparison to his counterpart. Brianna was nothing short of the most beautiful woman Bethany had ever seen. She was not tall, but had a perfect willowy figure, and moved with a grace the likes of which Bethany had not thought possible. Her sunshine-colored hair was held back by a leather band, and Bethany could see streaks of pure silver throughout. Bethany ran her fingers through her tangled black hair, which was still slightly damp from the soaking she had received. She was self-conscious of the fact that her hair was tangled and matted, and her clothes were filthy. She must look like some peasant to these beautiful people.
As they entered the treeline at the base of the cliffs, Bethany did a double-take at her surroundings. She was surrounded by massive firs and pines, as well as numerous magnolia trees, apple trees and shrubs, all of them carefully groomed by elven hands. The trees, large and small, had been meticulously pruned to be the epitome of controlled beauty in nature. The forest�s underbrush had been cleared away, leaving a carpet of lush green grass unlike any in the kingdom of Ithalus. The shrubs and bushes had been hand-trimmed to resemble an amazing array of shapes: circles, rectangles, triangles, even a few shapes she had no name for. Many of the bushes had been trimmed to resemble the shapes of men and animals. The trail they were on gradually widened to the point where it could properly be called a road. Bethany was fond of botany, and maintained several gardens in the Palace of Ithalia, but the sheer scope of what she was seeing staggered her. It would have taken countless lifetimes to have achieved a living work of art such the one through which she now traveled.
�We are now within the borders of Sanctus Morea,� came a voice at her left shoulder. She turned with a start. She hadn�t noticed Brianna riding up behind her.
�We are only about two days� ride from Woodland Keep. We�ll camp soon for the night and get a fresh start in the morning.�
�I spoke with Finlin earlier,� came Steven�s voice from Bethany�s right. �and he told me a few interesting things. It is an honor to be provided with a Tagnasis escort, especially one comprised of the Mother of the Trees and the Dancer of the Blades of Sanctus Morea.�
�A Taga...what?� asked Bethany, perplexed.
�May I?� asked Brianna, directing her gaze toward Steven.
�By all means, Mistress. You of course would know better than I.�
�Tagnasis are a class of elven warriors,� Brianna began. �You might think of us as a combination of soldier and naturalist. We are charged with commanding the elven forces in battle, as well as keeping the old ways alive. Elven society has become increasingly refined and bureaucratic over the last few centuries. Even though our cultures have had very little interaction for six hundred years, our highborn have developed an affinity for the human manner of politics. This in turn has led to change in our people�s culture, from manner of dress to our social interaction with each other. We Tagnasis are charged with keeping the elven communion with nature alive for any who wish to experience it.
�A Tagnasis is actually a group unit comprised of two elves. One elf is the muscle of the group � in our case, this would be Finlin � and one is the spirit, or magic. This would be me, of course. The spirit Tagnasis, which is normally the female of the group, commands magic to aid our warriors in battle, primarily by healing wounds, casting offensive magic, or even shapeshifting into the form of animals to physically aid our counterparts. We are connected by a mental bond, which allows us to share strong emotional surges. We can use it to alert the other of trouble or support them if they are in pain or mental duress.�
�Is the bond permanent?� asked Bethany.
�Yes. Once the bond is set, we are forever tied to each other�s fate.�
�So, in a manner of speaking, you are married to Finlin.�
�NO. Nothing could be further from the truth, in actuality,� said Brianna, a slight touch of exasperation in her voice. �It is forbidden for Tagnasis to become involved romantically. In fact, we are forbidden to marry any elf, especially one�s counterpart. Any feelings other than friendship could cause problems in the heat of battle and lead to a rash decision that could have dire repercussions on the course of combat. Wars have been lost and societies crumbled because of leaders becoming distracted on the battlefield.�
�I see,� said Bethany. �It seems a hard life to choose. Do you not get lonely? Don�t you long for the touch of a man, or the companionship between a husband and wife?�
Brianna cast an unreadable look in Finlin�s direction. �There are times...� She fell silent as the group rode on.

��

�We camp here for the night,� called Finlin.
The party had arrived at an exquisite glade. An expanse of carefully manicured lush grass stretched out in front of them, surrounded by more of the elves� perfectly grown firs. The furthest end of the glade was ended by a large rock formation, which almost appeared to be the side of a small mountain. Thin trickles of water streamed down the rock face, creating a small pool from which their horses drank. Extraordinary colored wildflowers grew in abundance around the water, giving the pool an unearthly beauty. Bethany had never seen many of the species, and spent some time questioning Finlin and Brianna about the names and uses of the plants. The elves seemed amused by her profound interest in the botany of the Shaped Woods, and answered as best they could. After Bethany�s seemingly endless barrage of questions had abated, Finlin busied himself and Steven with cutting wood for a fire. Once they had a merry blaze going, the humans and elves relaxed around the firepit, exchanging stories of battles and parties, culture and warfare. As dusk began to wane into night, Brianna noticed that Bethany�s face carried a slight uncomfortableness.
�Are you all right, My Lady Bethany?� she asked.
�Oh yes, I�m fine. Just a bit tired and dirty is all. I wasn�t quite expecting such a long ride to Woodland Keep.�
�I know exactly what you need, My Lady. Please forgive me for not thinking of it sooner.�
Bethany looked at the elf curiously. Brianna then turned to Finlin and spoke to him in the silvery trill of elven language. Finlin nodded and let out a louder call to the woods around them.
Brianna rested a hand on Bethany�s shoulder. �Please follow me, My Lady.�
Bethany placed her arm through Brianna�s, and together they walked a distance into the woods, always keeping the rock formations to their left. Shortly they came upon a small oasis, fed by a waterfall from the rocks and nearly surrounded by a number of small magnolia trees. Bethany looked curiously at Brianna, and laughed delightedly when the elf reached into her pack and produced a bar of soap. Brianna trilled a melody of elven commands, and Bethany was amazed to see the magnolias surrounding the oasis bend their trunks and interlace their branches, effectively sheltering the pool. Anyone walking past the oasis would not be able to see them bathe.
�Finlin has commanded his students to give us a berth, but I tend to take more precautions with my modesty,� Brianna said with a small smile. Together the women, human and elf, stripped off their clothes and eased into the water. Bethany was pleasantly surprised to find that the water was quite warm. She relaxed and enjoyed the first bath she�d had in days.
�How is it that the trees obey you?� she asked Brianna.
�As Mother of the Trees, it is my duty to protect the integrity of the elven forests and lands. The flora, fauna and I have an understanding with each other. They know I will work to protect them with all of my being, and so they deign to obey my requests from time to time. The trees and plants of the forest are living creatures just like you and me, My Lady. One has only to open themselves to the language in order to communicate with them.�
�You talk to trees,� Bethany said, unable to hide her hint of disbelief.
�And animals,� Brianna replied with a nod. �Not so much talk as you and I would. It�s more a collection of feelings and images in my mind. It is very difficult to describe to one who does not have the gift. It is a rare thing, to be able to communicate with the living things of the earth. There are not many elves who can do this. As a matter of fact, it was the trees that instructed us to meet you at the landing site. Finlin and I have not been home in many months. A Tagnasis attached to His Majesty sent a message through the trees that we were to greet you and escort you safely to Woodland Keep. It will be good to be home again.�
As their bath drew to a close, Bethany loathed the idea of climbing back into her filthy riding clothes. She expressed as much to Brianna, who had anticipated the request. The elf reached into her pack and brought out a change of clothes for Bethany; a pair of leather breeches and padded boots such as the one the elf wore herself, as well as a beautiful silk riding dress that was split at the sides all the way to Bethany�s hips. As they were roughly the same build, Bethany was most grateful to slip into the well-crafted leathers. The only items she kept from her previous outfit were her wide leather belt and her dagger, which hung at her right hip.
The sun had fully set, so the two began to make their way back to the camp. As they walked through the darkened forest, Bethany felt Brianna tense. Startled, Bethany looked around quickly. Unable to see much in the gloom of night, she nonetheless felt that something was fast approaching them. Brianna grasped Bethany�s shoulders and pulled her to a halt.
�Grimkin,� Brianna whispered harshly, �blast!�
Bethany had almost no time to react as a small form screamed out of the darkness surrounding them. Only her years of combat training with her husband saved her as she quickly bent forward at the waist, at the same time drawing her dagger and stabbing upward with a twisting thrust. She felt her blade strike true, and a high-pitched squeal emanated from what sounded like hundreds of throats around her.
Brianna expelled a piercing trill in the elven tongue and flung her arms skyward. At her command, a giant ball of light sprang into being above the two women�s heads, illuminating the woods around them. Bethany could see at least thirty tiny creatures surrounding them. The grimkin were vaguely humanoid, but no taller than two feet. They moved like monkeys, quick and deft, and Bethany could indeed see patches of fur amongst their filthy skin. A few she could see were nude, but most were clothed in ragged loincloths. Their sharpened teeth, of which there seemed to be a profound overabundance, were bared in hateful snarls. Each of the tiny creatures carried a small pointed stick, which they were thrusting about like spears. They seemed to be afraid of the magic, for they backed off when Brianna�s spell sprang to life. Brianna let out another piercing trill, thrusting a hand at the group in front of her, and ten of the grimkin suddenly burst into flames. The surrounding grimkin started in surprise, wide-eyed, and then turned back to the two women with a collective growl. Bethany prepared to fight for her life and the life of her new companion, when the woods around them erupted with wailing trills. Six elven males burst from the darkness, brandishing an assortment of weapons. Following closely behind them were two elven women, hands ablaze with eldritch fire and ice. Running alongside the males were four gigantic beasts, two wolves and two panthers, all larger than any wolf or cat Bethany had seen in Ithalian lands.
With the arrival of the newcomers, the remaining grimkin broke and ran. Some were brought down with powerful swings of elven swords, and a few were dispatched by the giant animals. Bethany had begun to relax and was glancing around as a tiny spear came hurtling from the black and buried itself in her leg. She grimaced in pain and irritation as she grabbed the small spear and pulled it out. Her limbs immediately stiffened, and she realized the barb had been coated in some type of poison. She took two staggering steps toward the elves, throat working, unable to vocalize any sounds at all. She fell to the ground, quite unable to move, and the last thing she saw was Brianna�s face above her, the elf�s mouth frozen in an O of surprise.
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Joined: 11 Nov 2007 Posts: 38 Location: Holloman AFB, NM

Very nice Worm I like it!! Keep it up!