Showing posts with label dralin trilogy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label dralin trilogy. Show all posts

Saturday, August 12, 2017

Samantha Swords, an Inspiration

Samantha Swords

In doing research for combat in my books, specifically for Pelya Jornin, the main character of the Dralin and Wyvern Series, I came across a phenomenal woman by the name of Samantha Swords.  Samantha practices and studies European Martial Arts. She also works as cast and crew in the film industry including time at WETA. She's been kind enough to answer a couple of questions I've had about combat with a sword.

Her Tumblr and YouTube have oodles of information on swordplay and the culture surrounding it in modern day.

Samantha Swords on Tumblr
Samantha Swords on YouTube
Samantha Swords on Facebook

New Zealand/Aussie artist, actor, writer & sword-fighter, works in the film industry as cast and crew. Outgoing, adventurous & loving life!

European Martial Arts


Samantha is a student of European Martial Arts. In this video, she states:

Historical European Martial Arts are the martial arts of medieval Europe. Yes, they existed. They were very complicated, very beautiful, just as like the Asian martial arts are. And, unfortunately, they died out, which is why most of us don’t actually know about them these days. But for those of us who are completely crazy about swords, we have been recreating the arts from fighting manuals- books that were left from the people who actually studied in those ancient times.

Like much epic fantasy in books, the world of Ryallon has styles of swordplay similar to that used in Europe.  Granted my characters have magic at their disposal along with supernatural abilities, but the basics still apply.

Much of my writing of combat scenes stretches the abilities of a person beyond what's physically capable.  It's exciting to imagine someone whirling through the air while spinning blades.  However, I believe it important to add as much realism into the details. Pelya Jornin's timeline has her learning martial arts, both physically and intellectually, from the age of four.  She has talent and the work ethic to become one of the best in the world of Ryallon.  She's earned it rather than just picking up a sword and becoming an insta-expert like in many stories.

Weekend Warrior

Samantha is participating in an experimental live action event in September.
https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/1336679351/weekend-warrior/description

Her brief description of the event:

The Kingsmen are my faction in Weekend Warrior- an experiential live action event that will be filmed, documentary style, and challenge you in a new form of medieval-style outdoor adventure. 
I’m joining forces with Skip Lipman and Ron Newcomb of the Forge Studios- they’re well known for the series, ‘The Rangers’, and also Zan Campbell of Fell and Fair, and together we’re creating this event.



An Inspiration

I believe Samantha Swords is an inspiration for young women and anyone to explore their dreams and confront their fears to flourish.  Life can be hard to face.  Sometimes it's best to come with a sword in hand and the ability to use it.

All my best,

John H. Carroll

P.S.  The emo bunnies like her too.

Saturday, August 1, 2015

"Liquid", Wyvern Trilogy Book 2: Chapter 1

This is the final edit of Chapter 1.


***************** SPOILERS ***************
IF YOU HAVE NOT READ "WYVERN", BOOK 1 OF THE WYVERN TRILOGY, THIS EXCERPT HAS MASSIVE SPOILERS FOR THAT STORY.

You can find "Wyvern", Book 1 at these stores:






You can find "Liquid" at these stores:

Amazon
Liquid Chapter 1

Pelya sucked air into her lungs and ignored the sweat stinging her eyes.  She deflected Commander Brynin’s thrust with her primary sword.  The ringing of metal on metal echoed off stone walls enclosing the grassy courtyard.  Her secondary sword flashed through the air in a counterattack.

The commander twirled through the air just out of reach.  Blistering sunlight sparkled off her short-cropped red hair.

Tina rounded a nearby tree to the commander’s flank.  She feinted low before turning a two-handed slash upward.

Steel chimed as the commander parried the blow with her enchanted blade.  Her bare foot came around to land a glancing blow on Tina’s chin.  The young woman’s ponytail flew around to smack her cheek.

Tina shifted her feet to regain balance and tried to sneak her blade into the woman’s side.  At the same time, Pelya swung both of her swords, one high and one low.

The high one made contact.

Commander Brynin flipped backward and landed in a crouch on her toes.  Shock registered in rose-pink eyes as a thin line of blood appeared on her cheek.  “You cut me!”

Tina crowed in triumph.  “She did!”

The commander saluted them with her sword raised.  “We’re finished sparring for today.  Well done, both of you.  Tina, you’re improving.”  She sheathed the blade

“I still can’t compete with either of you.”  Tina saluted the commander before falling dramatically to the grass, gasping for breath.  “Casting that protection spell you taught me makes it harder to get through the long battles, Pelya.”

Pelya also saluted the commander.  To Tina she said, “Yes, but each time you cast it, it takes a little less effort.  It’ll save your life as it has mine.”

Commander Brynin helped her niece up.  “Pelya was right to teach it to you, Tina.  I felt it resist my attacks.  I felt yours too, Pelya.  It’s quite the trick in addition to your ample skill.  That’s the first time your blade has ever touched me.  I must be losing my edge.”

“You’re slow as an emo bunny, Commander.  Hardly a test at all.”  She grinned.

Brynin put her hand on her hip.  “That’s why you’re sweating like a carnivorous fairy lost in the desert and why my niece was flopping on the ground, gulping air like a fish out of water.”

Pelya wiped a sleeve across her brow, thankful for the slight breeze rustling through leaves.  “I pay attention to your methods and learn every time we spar.”  She glanced over the condition of her swords, both her personal property.  The primary was made of light steel with runes of enchantment.  It darted through the air like a hummingbird when she swished it.  The secondary was shorter but deadlier.  The glistening metal stayed sharp and clean even without etched runes like those the primary had.  She sheathed them, took her gloves off and tucked those in her sword belt.

“I’ve noticed you learning my tricks and trying them on me.”  The commander waggled a finger at Pelya.  “You have natural talent, an indomitable work ethic and cunning.  You improve each time you engage an opponent.”

Tina pulled her russet hair out of its ponytail and ran fingers through the sweat-soaked strands.  “But you still cut Pelya a few times, Aunt Reela.  I can’t even do that much.”

Commander Brynin threw an arm over Pelya’s shoulders.  “That’s because I’m a swordmaster sixth class and she’s only classified as swordmaster second class.  She could qualify for third class.”  The commander ran a finger along Pelya’s cheek.

Pelya pulled away.

Brynin caught Pelya’s chin.  “I did cut you a few times, including once across the forehead.  I saw the blood.  Now it’s gone.”

Pelya’s jaw clenched shut as an intricate orange tattoo covering the left half of her torso exerted control.  It had performed the healing and didn’t like when people noticed.  The dragon mark was a reward from a dragon for saving its baby.  However, the magic of the mark physically prevented her from answering questions about it.  It remained invisible on her skin unless taxed to heal or protect her.

The commander narrowed her eyes.  “I sense my mind being pushed.”  She tapped one of her dangling earrings with a finger.  “If I didn’t have these little charms to protect my mind from enchantment, I’d probably forget yet again that you have no scars.  Tell me how you manage it.”

The tattoo heated in protest.  The muscles in her body tightened.

“Are you playing a game with me, Pelya?”

The dragon mark squeezed Pelya’s lungs and set her bones on fire.  She didn’t understand why it punished her when someone else asked questions.  Pelya fell to her knees, screaming through teeth clenched near to breaking.  Darkness surrounded the edges of her vision.

Brynin took Pelya’s cheeks in her hands.  “I withdraw my question!  Release her, foul geas!”

The pressure released, allowing a breath of desperate air to shudder down Pelya’s throat.  She collapsed into the commander’s arms, her muscles drained of strength.

“I’m sorry, Pelya.  No more questions.”  The commander helped Pelya to her feet and steadied her.

 “Let’s have some chilled juice in my office.”

Pelya clutched the commander’s shoulder for support.  It had reached the point where she no longer cared how many times the dragon mark had save her.  She wanted it gone.

A flash of heat burned her bones to punish her for the thought.  Then it hid from her memory until the next time it would be needed.

Pelya grunted in pain and sent a silent curse after it.

The commander helped her along a path bordered by flowerbeds.  When they reached the courtyard door, Tina opened it and stepped aside to let them in first.

The manor was cool after stepping in from the summer heat.  Tina and Pelya paused to remove their boots before stepping onto soft, expensive carpet that ran the length of the hallway.  Brynin’s feet were already bare as usual.  “Thank you for taking those off.  The carpet lasts much longer that way.  Besides, feet are happier out of the artificial prisons you two call shoes.”

“Those are boots, not shoes, Aunt Reela,” Tina said in her peppy voice.  Her smile lit twinkling grey eyes.

A corner of the commander’s mouth twisted in amusement.  There was a hint of familial resemblance in their thin noses and rounded cheekbones.  “They’re atrocious, whatever you call them.”

Tina held the door to Brynin’s personal office open.  The interior was lush with a beautiful whitewood desk.  To the left of the door was a sitting area with a whitewood table that matched.  Priceless tapestries and paintings bordered the window to the courtyard.  Wall to wall carpeting caught their steps in its soft embrace.

To the right of the door was a large globe with swaths of blue, brown and green.  Floating mystically around it were Ryallon’s two moons, Siahray and Piohray.

Commander Brynin took a seat in a comfortable chair behind the desk.  Pelya and Tina flopped into chairs across from it.  The commander leaned back and kicked her feet on the corner of the desk.  “Do the two of you know what Liquid Wyverns are?”

Pelya stretched.  “They’re powerful magical artifacts.  I saw one on a tour of the library at the University of Settatt when I was a recruit.  It moved and seemed to look at me.  If I remember correctly, they consist of a mixture of metals such as gold, silver and platinum in their liquid state.  Powerful archmages merge the metals with other ingredients and imbue the devices with more magic than can be placed into something solid.  Gems are added to focus power.”

“I won’t ask who told you all that.  I’m not in the mood to arrest anyone today.”  The commander folded her hands over her stomach.  “About fifty years after the Blue Wyverns were formed, communications became a problem for the fast growing organization.  When things went wrong far away, there was no way of knowing until messengers arrived with reports.  By then it was too late to rescue soldiers in danger.”

“Which is why the Blue Wyverns strive to engineer better highways in the kingdoms that employ us,” Pelya responded.  “We establish waypoints along them to increase the speed of communication.”

“I bet there’s more to it than that,” Tina said.

Brynin winked.  “Very good, my pretty little niece.”  She pointed a warning finger at both of them.  “I’m trusting you with one of the closest kept secrets in the Wyverns now.  This is confidential.”

They nodded.

“Academy Commander Vernt came up with the idea for Liquid Wyverns all those years ago.  They are now in twenty-two Blue Wyvern garrisons throughout the countries we operate in.  They act as a communication and tracking system for the Blue Wyverns.  Each one has a troop of Academy-trained wizards called Liquid Mages who interpret the messages sent between them.

Pelya gave a low whistle.  “That’s complicated and powerful magic.”

“Yes it is.”  The commander held out a hand and studied her fingernails.  “In addition to that, every recruit who graduates to become a Blue Wyvern is entered into the system using a drop of blood.”

“That’s why they wanted our blood,” Tina remarked.  “I never understood that.”

“Yes.”  Brynin dropped her feet to the floor and leaned forward on the desk.  “Now, the extraordinary thing about Liquid Wyverns is that they know the health of every Blue Wyvern.  Whenever a member dies, an alarm is activated in the nearest Liquid Wyvern.  A wizard will be able to tell how many soldiers have perished in addition to who they are.”

Pelya mouthed, “Wow.”

“The original Liquid Wyvern is at the Academy here in Settatt, which is the one you saw, Pelya.  As the Blue Wyverns expanded, keeping track of everyone was more than it could handle.  Another was created, and then another.  Academy Commander Vernt realized that a central device would have to be made to handle the growing number.  Thus, the Settatt Wyvern here at Headquarters was created.  You won’t see that one.”

“But I want to see it,” Tina said.

“Tough.”  The commander smirked.  “Vernt invited a few powerful archmages he knew to assist him in making the Settatt Wyvern.  It stands at fifteen hands tall and forty-two hands long.  Vernt wasn’t able to find a lone sapphire large enough for the heart.  Instead, he took a number of the largest sapphires he could get and cast them in a powerful heart shaped device that came to be called the Heart of Settatt.”

“You’re telling us a great deal.”  Pelya nibbled on a fingernail, a habit Tina abhorred.  “I must admit curiosity as to why.”

Brynin nodded.  “There’s a lot I’m not telling you.  But I trust you both and it’s important for you to understand the gravity of your assignment.”

Tina slapped Pelya’s hand away from her mouth.  “Which is? . . .”

“I’m getting to that.”  The commander stood and walked to the window.  “There are currently three magicians in the world capable of making the Liquid Wyverns.  One lives in Zimth, the Capital city of Swelth.  The White Talon Company should be picking up a newly made wyvern from him in twenty days.  Their task is to bring it back here to tune it with the Settatt Wyvern.”

“The White Talon Company is one of the best,” Tina said.  “Do you expect trouble, Aunt Reela?”

“I’ve heard a couple of whispers.  Your mission is to get in touch with my contacts in Zimth and investigate those whispers.”

Pelya raised her eyebrows hopefully.  “Any chance it could be the Guild of Scales?  Those papers I recovered last year mentioned they were out to ruin the Blue Wyverns.  If you’d just let me read them . . .”

“She did discover them after all,” Tina contributed, “along with exposing the old Recruit Commander who was sabotaging basic training.”

Brynin gave a long-suffering sigh.  “Yes, I know.  She’s obsessed with the man who killed most of her squad in Dralin.  As I’ve explained countless times, the papers are sealed away in a vault and can’t be opened except by order of the Council of Eight, which isn’t going to happen.”

Pelya leaned her elbow on the arm of the chair and rested her chin on her fist.  She stared at the globe and wondered where the man named Laen might be.

Tina patted Pelya’s leg.  “Do you think the Guild of Scales will try to steal the Liquid Wyvern, Aunt Reela?”

“No.  There’s nothing in the whispers that suggest anything about the Guild.”  Frustration crept into her voice.  “I don’t want you wasting time trying to make a connection that doesn’t exist.”  Brynin retrieved a jug with runes around its base to keep it chilled.  She poured them each a cup of juice.

“We won’t, Aunt Reela.”  Tina shot Pelya an apologetic look before asking the commander, “Do you want us to do anything besides investigate the whispers?  It’ll take us longer than twenty days to get to Zimth.  The White Talon Company should be on the road by then.”

Pelya leaned toward Tina and whispered loud enough for the commander to hear.  “She probably wants us to find out more information about the Rojuun.”

Tina chuckled.  ”Probably.”

The Rojuun were Brynin’s obsession.  Discovering information about them was one of Pelya and Tina’s permanent tasks.  A few years earlier, in Dralin, Pelya had met one and helped him rescue others that were imprisoned.  It was the last time she had seen one.

The commander didn’t share in their amusement.  “The White Talon Company will be on the road by the time you reach them.  Check with their Captain, Leacy Emaate, and make certain all is well.  Once you’ve done that, continue to Zimth.  I still want you to investigate the whispers even though I don’t believe there’s much credibility to them . . . and yes, see if you can learn anything about the Rojuun.”

“Where do we start?” Pelya asked.

“I have two contacts you can get in touch with.  The first is a merchant of exotic goods by the name of Tumera.  She has a store called the Tiwari Gem just off the City Market.”  Brynin returned to her seat and nursed the juice while she kicked her feet back on the desk.  “People talk to her easily, telling her stories from all over the continent and even beyond.  Her grandmother was a member of the Wyverns.  Tumera always loved the old tales the woman told to her.  She also knows to keep her ears open for word of Rojuun.”

Tina fidgeted in her chair, never one to sit still for long.  “Who’s the other contact?”

“Everyone calls him Idget.”

Tina frowned.  “That’s not encouraging.”

“Don’t let the name fool you,” Brynin said.  “He’s clever like a fox but acts the part of an ox.”

Pelya raised an eyebrow.  “You’ve become a poet?”

“I’d torture you by reciting some, but I don’t have enough rope to keep you tied to the chair.”  Brynin grinned.  “Idget is a thief and a sneak.  He pretends stupidity in order to loosen people’s tongues.  Don’t underestimate him.”

Tina’s brow furrowed.  “Is it safe to deal with a thief?”

“It’s never safe to deal with a thief,” Pelya said.  “They make some of the best informants though.  Just remember not to trust everything they tell you.  Always look for their true motive.”

Brynin nodded.  “Let Pelya handle him.  She dealt with far worse when she lived in Dralin.  To get in touch with Idget, you have to speak to Rymon, the bartender at the Black Moon Tavern.  Tell him, ‘horses are stupid,’ and he’ll get you in touch.”

“Horses are stupid?” Tina asked with a laugh.

The commander shrugged.  “I never learned the meaning.  I suppose I could, I just don’t care enough to do so.”

“Should we speak to the mage who’s making this new Liquid Wyvern?” Tina asked.

“Yes.  That would be Professor Klunjun of the Dayblossom Orphanage.  He’s an archmage, but few people know that.  I doubt he’ll know anything about the rumors.  His head is too deep into his work, but it won’t hurt to ask.  He lives in the northern tower, which is cluttered with books and magical items from what I understand.  He’s reported to be just as messy as his tower.”

“What about the city?” Pelya asked.  “I don’t know much about Zimth.”

“Mother took me there once,” Tina said.  “I nearly broke my neck gawking at the sights.  I think Zimth is one of the prettiest cities around.”

“It’s also one of the most disorganized cities in the world,” Brynin added.  “There isn’t a straight road anywhere in Zimth.  The buildings are oddly shaped and don’t fit quite right.”
Tina laughed.  “That’s true.  We got lost a few times, but that was part of the fun.  Can you give us specifics about the whispers you’ve heard, Aunt Reela?”

“Idget heard from one of his connections that a group of mercenaries was hired to create a riot around the time when the White Talon Company is supposed to pick up the Liquid Wyvern.  He wasn’t able to discern a connection other than the timing, but it’s my job to worry about those things.”

“Coincidences are often planned in my experience,” Pelya said.

“Exactly.”  Brynin steepled her hands in front of her chin.  “Tumera heard a pair of customers discussing the creation of an artifact.  They stopped talking when they noticed her.  It’s not much, but I don’t know of any other artifacts being created in Zimth.  She also sent me these.”  The commander opened a drawer and tossed three coins on the desk.  “This is the first time I’ve seen these.”
They were small with intricate designs on them.  Copper was the smallest of the three with silver and gold being similar sizes.  Pelya picked up the silver.  “You can find just about every type of coin that exists in Dralin, but I’ve never seen these either.”

“It’s called ‘uun’.  It’s what Rojuun use for currency.”  Brynin tapped each one.  “Four copper uuns make a silver uun and eight silver uuns make a gold uun.  Tumera got these from someone who escaped from Rojuun territory.”

Pelya’s head jerked up.  “Really?  What else did they tell her?”

“She said she has too much information to put in writing.”  Brynin pointed at them.  “That’s why the two of you need to get to Zimth as fast as possible.  Find and speak to the person Tumera got these from if at all possible.”

Tina sighed dramatically.  “Don’t you want us to take a few days off first, Aunt Reela?  We’ve been traveling since we graduated from the Academy and not a day’s rest.”

Brynin got to her feet and leaned her hands on the desk.  “You’ve had plenty of rest over the last week since you’ve been in Settatt.  Get going.”

That wasn’t entirely true considering Pelya and Tina had been debriefing the commander the entire time.  However, they weren’t about to test her resolve.  They jumped up and saluted her with the edge of their hands to foreheads.  Then they gave her hugs and headed out.

***

Pelya sat atop Honey, a spirited chestnut warhorse with flowing blonde mane.  Humidity caused Pelya and Tina’s undershirts to stick to skin as they rode out of Settatt on the graveled southern highway.  Sleeveless black tabards over polished chain shirts amplified the heat of the day.  A flick of Honey’s tail swatted flies hovering around her rump.

They stopped on a wooded rise to look back at the tranquil city.  It spread out through the valley and over hills to the north and east.  The sun shone with joy over the fact that it was summer, the season of its supremacy.

Dominating a rocky hill to the west of the city was the headquarters of the Blue Wyverns, a massive castle with rounded towers.  The main tower was eight stories high and watched over the city like a sentinel.  Pennants flew proudly above the towers and battlements.  It was the sort of castle bards sang about.

Settatt was the third largest city in Eddland after the Capitol of Auraroth to the west and Beltaddo to the south.  Its primary purpose was to support the Blue Wyverns, an all-woman mercenary group acting as the standing military for the country of Eddland.  They also contracted out to nearby countries for various purposes such as hunting bandits and pirates, security of remote areas, and protecting highways.  There was even an engineering division that built and maintained roads.

Though it hadn’t always been so, the country of Eddland was a wealthy country that thrived on trade.  In addition, it had a rich agricultural presence with vast farmlands, orchards and vineyards.  Due to the safety of the roads, Eddland had become a major trade hub for merchants.

A muffled drone of activity drifted from below to fade into the symphony of wildlife in the thick woods bordering the highway.  Birds chirped merrily in the leafy trees as they darted back and forth to catch insects.  The scent of warm leaves and flowered underbrush combined with dusty gravel.

Tina patted her dappled horse.  “I don’t know how many times we’ve ridden out of Settatt in the last year and a half since we graduated.  At least we get to leave the country this time.  I’m tired of investigating corruption in unimportant waypoints on the border or reports of abuse from officers like the one in Permo.”

They resumed riding.  “We’ll have to go through there on the way to Zimth.  It’s a nice enough town, especially since we arrested Captain Gurbell a few months ago,” Pelya said.

“The town isn’t nice, it’s boring.”  Tina tugged at her black tabard emblazoned with a white wyvern that marked them as Covert Services.  Dark-blue pants finished the uniform.  “Nobody likes us when we’re wearing these.  Even when we get rid of torturers like Gurbell they don’t trust us.  You’d think they’d be grateful after exposing the secret dungeon where she kept the people she kidnapped.  We rescued eleven townspeople, eleven.  Instead of giving us a party, they asked us how soon we’d be leaving.”

“Quit letting it get to you.”  Pelya wore the same uniform.  They were different from the dark-blue tabards embroidered with light-blue wyverns that most troops wore.  “When we get up tomorrow, we’ll change into our plain clothes.  The black sashes on our sheaths are sufficient to show our position to anyone who needs to know, but subtle enough not to draw undue attention.”  She referred to a black cotton sash with embroidered white wyverns.  They each had one tied around the neck of their sword sheaths.  Pelya’s was on her primary sword.  “You mentioned that Zimth is pretty.  How do you mean?”

Tina’s sweet face lit in remembrance.  She was a few months shy of Pelya’s age.  Innocence made her seem younger.  “The houses are round and painted pastel colors.  Each has a conical roof made of thatch.  Even businesses have at least one or two round sections.  You won’t be able to travel the rooftops like you did in Dralin.  They’re not close enough.”

Pelya snapped her fingers in mock dismay.  “We’ll just have to sneak around in the sewers.  Zimth has those, right?”

Tina gagged.  “I am not going into a sewer.  I’m sure I don’t know if they have them.  It’s not the sort of thing I pay attention to.

“You should pay attention,” Pelya said.  “It can be one of the best ways to get through a city unnoticed.  It’s also the method many criminals use to escape the law.”

“Then they can just escape.”  Tina shuddered away the idea and resumed her description of the city.  “Most houses have small yards with gardens.  The people of the country love their flowers.  Trees line the streets, large and small.  The people are polite.  They favor wide straw hats with conical tips that look like their roofs.”  She mimicked the shape of the hat over her head.  “And they tend to be short.”

“How short?”

“Just a few inches shorter than I’ve seen in other countries.  I’m one of the tallest women you’ll find from the Kingdom of Swelth.”

“Interesting.  I wonder why?”

“They probably don’t eat entire cows for lunch like you do.”  Tina grinned gleefully.

Pelya took a swipe at her, but Tina sidestepped her horse.  “The palace has lots of towers and buttresses.  It’s not built for defense so much as it’s made to look beautiful.”

“Is it as nice as Settatt Castle?” Pelya asked.

“It’s beautiful,” Tina assured her.  “You’ll love it.  Maybe we’ll find a way to sneak in and look around since you have an obsession with castles.”

“Daddy used to take me to Carnival to listen to the bards.  There were always tales of knights in shining armor riding out of pennant-topped castles.  Most of the knights I’ve met are disappointing.  I still have hope for castles.  One of these days maybe I’ll explore the world just to visit them.”  With a gloved finger, Pelya flicked a mosquito off the sleeve of her own shiny chain armor.  She had taken time to oil it properly during the past week.

“You’re such a romantic.”  Tina smiled.  “Although, knowing you, you’ll probably sneak into each one and find mysteries to solve.

Pelya chuckled.  “I enjoy sneaking around and solving mysteries.  When we get to Zimth, we’ll spend a couple of days exploring.  Perhaps we’ll get out of our armor and wear common clothes.  You like doing that as long as the garments meet your standards.”

“It’s not a matter of standards!  Those rags we wore at the rural waypoint near the border of Foauth weren’t normal.”  Tina made a face.  “And they had fleas!”

“For many people they’re normal,” Pelya pointed out.  “Poverty exists everywhere.  The guards at that waypoint were stealing from the poor.  It was despicable.”

“I still can’t believe anyone in the Blue Wyverns would behave that way.  They beat anyone who couldn’t pay their extortion.”  Tina shook her head in disbelief.  “When we reached the waypoint, Sergeant Malir was taking all the money and groceries that farmer and his family had.  When the farmer’s son tried to protest, she beat him.  Then she encouraged her squad to kick him while he was on the ground.”

Pelya grunted.  “I still don’t understand why people behave that way.  If everyone treated each other decently, the world would be a tolerable place to live.”

“For all your intelligence, you’re awfully silly, Pelya.  The world will never work that way and it would be boring if it did.”  Tina rolled her eyes.

Pelya gazed at the verdant trees and fell into silence.

“I’m sorry,” Tina said contritely.  She leaned on the pommel of her saddle.  “The fact of the matter is that I admire you, Pelya.  By the time you finished with Sergeant Malir and her squad, they were all lying on the ground nursing wounds.  You didn’t yell or call them idiots.  Instead, you explained the concept of decency to them and explained at length how they should treat people.”  Tina shifted in her saddle.  “Even in violence you’re considerate.”

“Hopefully they listened.”

The corner of Tina’s mouth quirked.  “I’m sure they did . . . except for the ones that were unconscious that is.”  She shifted in her saddle.  “Sergeant Malir was pretty.  You would think pretty people would be nice.”

A bark of a laugh escaped Pelya’s throat.  “Now who’s being awfully silly?”

“I’m pretty and nice.”  Tina stuck her tongue out.

Pelya chuckled and shook her head.  She wondered if the younger woman would talk the entire way to Zimth.  The thought of strangling the peppy woman was tempting some days, though they had become good friends.  She stretched toned muscles that made her more masculine than she would like.  “It’s a beautiful day.  Look, butterflies.”  She pointed at a field of flowers.  Spotted yellow butterflies fluttered between blossoms.

“Yes, delightful.”  Tina wasn’t to be sidetracked.  “What I’m trying to say is that you aren’t interested in just finding crimes and arresting people, you use your power to make the world a better place.  I swear if you could, you’d make certain every peasant and beggar was given a home and all the happiness they could ever desire.”

“That sounds wonderful!  Let’s do that.”

Tina threw her head back and laughed.  “Of course!  Happiness for all.  You’re one of a kind, Pelya.”

Pelya wasn’t in the mood for laughter.

Tina’s mirth died.  “What’s wrong with you lately, Pelya?  You’re never the cheeriest of people, but over the last couple of weeks, you’ve been downright cloudy.”

“I’m one of a kind, like you said.”  Pelya closed her eyes and inhaled.  Woody scents lingered over the gravel of the well-maintained highway.  Even in bad weather, the road would be easy to negotiate.  “We should travel into the late evenings and then get up early in the mornings, taking a long afternoon break when it’s hottest.  The journey will be easier on us and the horses that way.”

“Yes, fine.”  Tina wasn’t about to be diverted.  “You say one of a kind like it’s a bad thing.  You’re extraordinary.  Why wouldn’t you take pride in that?”

“Because I don’t fit in anywhere,” Pelya said in irritation.  “Even when I was in the Dralin City Guard, I never truly fit in.  They treated me like their mascot; put me on a pedestal.  Now, like you said, nobody likes us because we’re Covert Operations.”  She chewed on a fingernail.  “I don’t know what I want to do with my life.”

“Wow.”  Tina snorted.  “You are moody today.  You don’t know what to do with your life?  Keep going the way you are in the Blue Wyverns.  You’ll be able to take Aunt Reela’s job in twenty years or so.  You’ve got the ability.”

“I don’t want it.”  Pelya’s mood grew darker.  “She has to be too deceptive.  Even though the Blue Wyverns do good in the world, they’re susceptible to corruption.  I don’t want to be stuck between the rules and doing what’s right.  I definitely don’t want to compromise my morals.”

Tina shut up for a few minutes.

Pelya went back to staring at the woods.  Occasional clearings with cottages dotted the landscape.  Dirt paths led to unknown locations.  Pelya had a desire to ride along them to discover where they led.

“You don’t intend to remain with the Blue Wyverns, do you?” Tina accused.  “When are you planning on leaving?”

“I don’t have anything planned.”  Pelya had given it a great deal of thought.  “Who knows what the future holds?  Perhaps I will take your aunt’s job someday.  I might serve out my minimum time and then take off for some exotic location.  Then again, it’s possible that a god could strike me dead tomorrow.”

“You’ve already defeated one god.  That’s what forced you out of Dralin.”

“I was part of an army that killed an entity that was trying to become a god.”  Pelya sighed in frustration.  “Killing a High Chancellor was what got me banished from Dralin.”

“Do you think a god would really try to strike you dead?”  Tina looked around as if searching for an irate deity.

“I’m not looking to irritate the gods, but I’ve attracted the notice of a few.  Hopefully they don’t involve me in their silliness.”

Tina stared at her in silent contemplation while the hooves of their horses clopped along the gravel.
Pelya resisted commenting until she couldn’t handle it anymore.  “You’re staring at me.”
Tina snorted.  “You make it all sound so casual.”  She affected a snobbish voice and waved her hand like a noble.  “Oh, I meet with gods all the time.  We have tea on the veranda.  It’s quite lovely.”

Pelya rolled her eyes.

“You act as if all this is nothing to be concerned about.  You have powerful enemies, Pelya.  One of these days, it could make your life difficult.”

“One of these days?  It’s already made my life difficult,” Pelya retorted.  “If it kills me, so be it.”

“You’ve become jaded to the concept of danger, Pelya.”  Tina shook her finger.  “You’re too valuable to throw caution to the wind like you do.  You seek danger.  I’ve seen it before.  It’s almost as if you challenge the universe to give you a good fight.”

“The universe gives me a good fight whether I want it or not.  So let the universe bring its best!”  Pelya thumped her chest and threw her arms to the sky.  “I’ll take on everything it has to throw at me.”

Tina buried her face in her hands.  “Aggghhh!  You are so frustrating!  You’re going to get us both killed.”

“No.”  Pelya’s voice deepened with intensity.  Determination ran through her blood.  “I’m going to win every single fight the universe throws at me.”

Tina gave a rueful shake of her head.  “You know, I don’t doubt you will.  I just wonder what price you’ll pay in addition to what you’ve already suffered.”

Pelya wondered the same thing.  “The road is shady.  Let’s give the horses a little run.”  She kicked Honey forward without waiting for Tina’s reply.



Monday, October 28, 2013

Destroying a character you've never met.

Wut?

That's right.  I'm destroying a character you've never met.  This means she will never be in any of my books.  She's hitting the Grey Void.

Why?

Because I'm a jerk of course!  Actually, the real reason is that I've been stuck and unable to figure out why. I finally realized this character is the reason.  I created her over a decade ago before writing "Rojuun".  At the time, the world of Ryallon had elves, dwarves, tollomes (half gnome, half halfling) and other D&D style races.   Those races disappeared when I sat down to write "Rojuun" and make it primarily human.  That's changed to, but that's a different story.

So in this book, I planned on bringing the character Jenna into play.  She's half human and half elven.  The original concept for elves was that they would have opal eyes, be tall and skinny.  She also ended up with purple hair and purple striations in her eyes.  Her favored magic was purple too . . . Fans of the Willden Trilogy may recognize those traits. ;)

Again, why?

All of my leads in the Dralin and Wyvern Trilogies are female for one.  And this character would just be Ebudae light.  She's also commonly unique.  By that, I mean that most characters in fantasy, mine included, have traits that make them special and different from everyone else.  Jenna has them in spades.

What traits?

1. She's beautiful
2. She has purple hair
3. She is an exceptionally powerful mage
4. She's super smart.
5. She's loyal
6. She's super good
7. She's an orphan
8. She has super awesome magical clothing and jewelry.
9. She's too D&D.

Why is she all these things?

Well, I was playing D&D at the time and I specialized in writing character bios.  It's a lot of fun to do.  So I wrote a character bio for all my main characters (Including Pelya.  Remind me to show you that one some day)  

What's wrong with perfect characters?

Lots, really.  There are all kinds of articles on it that I've read now.  Most of them are irritating.  But suffice to say, characters should be relatable to a greater or lesser degree.  Perfect characters are annoying.  Liselle is the most perfect character I've written so far and I've gotten a few bad reviews specifically about her.  I've corrected that in certain ways with the latest book about her.

So this character is perfect?

Close enough.  She's also too much like Liselle, Ebudae and Vevin. They probably took their traits from her to a degree. I have all sorts of female leads around Pelya too, and while I like that, I need to come up with something different to provide some contrast.  So I'm going to create a male character (or two).  I haven't decided who he will be yet, but I'll get to that as soon as I'm done with this blog post.  She originally had a brother named Jolen too, but he's disappearing too for similar reasons.  I'm thinking maybe troubled brothers for this or something.

Anyway, I thought you might want to meet Jenna before she gets carelessly tossed into the Grey Void.  Keep in mind, I wrote this when I had different plans for the world.  You might be able to see hints of the magic system and other ingredients from my books. :)  Also, I haven't edited it.  The quality leaves a lot to be desired. (Oddly enough, I think I did some things better back then)

JENNA of ZIMTH

Jenna about nineteen.  She has a high level of maturity beyond her years.  She is a very beautiful girl.  The ears are only slightly smaller than a full-blood’s.  Her eyes are elven with the exception of the purple taint.  Her hair is beautiful now, without being as bright as it had originally been.  She keeps it long and combs it frequently.  The human blood in her has removed some of the elven thinness.  She has become very graceful and walks with a calm confidence that one would not expect from an orphan girl.  Jenna knows eight languages in addition to most magic languages current and archaic.  Her voice is normally very light.  She pronounces all of her words with a precision that comes from necessity.  Enunciation requires exactness when casting spells.  When casting spells, her voice becomes strong and firm.  She can yell up quite a storm when she feels it necessary.  (Literally.)  All in all, Jenna has a very strong and confident personality.  She is not normally sociable but can be a very good and loyal friend once she gets to know you.

The first thing that you notice about Jenna is her purple hair (if she does not have it covered in her hood).  This was caused as a result of an accident at the orphanage.  One of the more eccentric tollome professors was tinkering in his lab.  To this day, he is still not sure what happened.  It seems that some fluids mixed together over a couple of scrolls with magical runes and started fizzling.  The next thing he knew, the whole thing was exploding in purple flames.  Jenna had been a favorite of Professor Klunkin’s.  He would allow the poor orphan half-elf girl to watch him work.  As she grew older, he began teaching her his lunatic (that’s what everyone else called them) concepts, inventions, and ideas. 

He came across the girl when she was sitting in the corner of his hallway crying.  This was when she was fifteen years old.  That is the equivalent of a six-year-old human.  She looked so frail, alone and vulnerable that he couldn’t help but take pity on her.  Only when he picked her up, he found a sudden place for her in his heart that could not be explained.  Perhaps it was the fragile look in her opal eyes that clenched an old tollome's chest.  It could have been the way she instantly seized him and held on for dear life as if he were the only safety in a stormy sea.  (You know, life really does seem like that at times, I would imagine that the feeling is intensified if you are an orphan.) 

No one at the orphanage knew who her parents were.  She was found abandoned at a secluded place in the city park.  The guard was able to find no clues as to where she came from and who left her there.  The orphanages of Zimth are known throughout Auropea for their compassion in taking care of lost children that are usually left to lives of crime, poverty and misfortune in other cities.  It is said that parents who actually care somewhat about those children that they abandon are left in Zimth.  It is very likely that Jenna was one of those children, then again there could be an entirely different reason for her being left in such a manner when she was ten (four, human).  Whatever the reason, Jenna became an unwilling inhabitant of the Felth Orphanage. 

The Felth Orphanage was named after Banba Felth.  Banba was an unimportant member of the Zimth city bureaucracy.   He was a treasury bureaucrat of medium rank.  What he did have going for him is that he controlled where the city’s orphanage fund went.  The Felth Orphanage was named after him because he approved the contractor’s bid, and it was part of the kickback he received.  Banba was fired shortly thereafter due to a standard inspection of spending.  It turns out that he actually took the highest of eighteen bids, and was living quite well in a nice section of town.  His name was never taken off of the home for lost children because it was too poor of an orphanage for anyone else to want. 

Two hundred years later, it has become even more run down and dilapidated.  The orphanage is in the poorest part of town.  The children there do not always fare well.  Truth be told, some of the worst rascals in Zimth come from this place.  The Downhill Flats of Zimth are notorious for their thieves and shady characters.  Everyone that lives in this part of town has at least some knowledge as to the disreputable professions available in the world. 

The Felth Orphanage is run by Gugga Dimt, the headmaster.  Gugga is a cruel sort of a tollome that really doesn’t like children.  He calls them mean names and pinches and pokes them, calling it all humorous joking around.  Headmaster Dimt doesn’t seem to realize that he is the only one laughing.  Actually, there are two others who laugh.  Mistress Ligga and Mistress Chooli.  They are two of the governess’ at the orphanage.  These two laugh at all of his pranks and encourage him with their own mischief that tends to be even crueler.
 
Jenna has run afoul of the headmaster and his two governesses a few times and the have been especially mean to her.   Mistress Chooli in particular was harsh with the girl.  The Mistress’ real name was once Chooliinna, an elven name.  She was an outcast from the Willden Elves.  It is not known in the orphanage why she was an outcast, but a dark rumor seems to follow her about a dead child, perhaps something she was responsible for.  Chooli has the attitude of elven superiority that leans some to treat half-breeds such as Jenna as scum on the world.  And the Mistress had this attitude in abundance.  Whenever Jenna comes into view, Chooli gets a look of hatred in her eyes and has even been known to run after the girl in order to cause her pain.  The abuse she has put Jenna through goes beyond mischief.  Mistress Chooli has beaten Jenna more than a few times.  It was shortly after one of these beatings that Professor Klunkin found her.

The Professor has lasted a long time at the orphanage for a few reasons.  To start with, he is a very good professor and his students learn a lot from the old tollome.  His brother was the previous headmaster at the orphanage at a time when it was actually a little less disreputable, though the brother was no saint either.  The main reason he is allowed to stay it that he gives the headmaster no choice in the matter.  The one time Master Dimt tried to throw Klunkin out, the old professor cast a few spells.  Dimt spent a full six weeks in the infirmary recovering.  No one is stupid enough to mess with the Professor now.  His quarters are actually a suite of eight rooms in the northernmost tower of the orphanage.  It takes up three levels of the top of the tower.  The uppermost room is one room in which the professor keeps his most powerful magical items and books.  This is where he does most of his work as well.  The next floor down is the living quarters with five rooms.  This is actually the ground level.  Two of the three towers in the orphanage are three story towers.  The professor’s tower is two stories, and considering that the rest of the orphanage is two stories high, it makes the tower not very noticeable as a tower.   These five rooms are mostly cluttered with various books and miscellaneous magical items of relatively low power.  The lower level consists of two rooms that the professor uses for experiments and alchemy.

The first room is a room that is warded in such a way as to prevent stray magic from escaping.  There are magic absorbents that distribute magic so that powerful spells can be performed with a minimum effect.  For example, if the professor were to be trying to interpret a scroll, and wild magic, or a trap were to go off, the result could be easily controlled.  A fireball would become nothing more than the flame of a candle. 

The second room is filled with tubes, bottles, and various ingredients used in alchemy.  This room is where the professor mixes various ingredients used in spells as well as potions and concoctions that are for sell.  The professor makes quite a bit of money off of this side business; actually he makes quite a lot considering that he mixes some of the most dangerous liquids available. 

*                              *                            *

            After five years of abuse in the orphanage, Jenna wanted nothing more than to get away from the hell that her life had become.  She had just received another beating from the Mistress Chooli.  When the Mistress had turned her back to speak to another orphan, Jenna ran.  She got lost in the large orphanage and ended up wandering down a long lonely hallway.  At the end of this passage, there was a locked door.  She tried to open it, but had no success.  She collapsed in the corner of the hallway and burst into tears.  Life had been terrible since she had been abandoned and left to the Felth Orphanage.  She just couldn’t take being beat up anymore and didn’t know how to escape. 

            Professor Klunkin was a good five hundred and fifty years old.  This was a very respectable age for a tollome.  He made his home in the Felth orphanage for the last hundred and fifty years.  Klunkin is three feet, eight inches tall.  He has bright yet dark blue eyes that are in the teardrop shape of the tollome.  To go with that, he has pure white hair on his head and chin.  He has had this color hair for all of his life and it was commented at an early age that it seemed appropriate on him due to his maturity and wisdom even early on.  Klunkin is usually messy and unkempt.  His clothes look much like his quarters; scattered and thrown amuck.  He has a wonderful sense of humor and likes to smile.  The only problem is that he usually only smiles for the children and a few of his true friends.  Among the orphans, he has a reputation as the nicest and friendliest professor alive.  Among his colleagues and the clients that wish to buy products from him, Klunkin has a reputation as a mean and fearsome lunatic of a madman mage.  In fact he has even used that as a means to announce himself in social circles. 

            On this cold winter day, Klunkin stepped out of his rooms in order to see an old friend across town.  He almost tripped over the half elf girl crying in a bundle on the floor.  The professor looked down at the lass that now looked at him with terror in her opal elven eyes.  The tears had been streaming down her cheeks, which looked as though they had both been slapped more than a few times.  The rag of a dress was torn and barely covered the girl.  She looked emaciated to a degree that questioned whether she was being fed at all.  After just a moment of his scrutiny, she began sobbing terribly, and curled up as though she expected the beatings to continue further.  Klunkin reached down and tenderly ran his fingers through her hair, making calming cooing noises.  The shocked girl looked up at the old tollome as he took into his deceptively powerful arms.  All of a sudden she desperately threw her arms around his neck and began crying in earnest. 

            The professor took care of the girl from that point on.  He didn’t simply protect her, he moved her in with him.  Professor Klunkin gave Jenna food and nourishment and within a few short weeks, she looked more the little girl than a skeleton.  He bought her some clothes that fit her and had some color.  When Mistress Chooli came looking, the professor informed her that the girl would be staying with him and he would turn anyone that so much as laid a hand on her into a worm with five legs and promptly slammed the door in her face.  Klunkin took to teaching the girl on his own.  He did this in part to protect her from having to go into the rest of the orphanage, which could be dangerous to her despite his threats.  He also realized that he had no apprentices throughout his life and had not passed on his knowledge to anyone.  He did not have an heir either.  It wasn’t long before he realized that Jenna was the one that he would be passing all of his knowledge to.    

            Jenna learned fast.  No longer being abused and mistreated, she was able to start understanding the things that were placed in front of her to learn.  She wished to please Klunkin due to the fact that he was the only one that ever treated her well.  The professor began teaching her how to read and write first.  This she seemed to take in almost immediately.  As she gained nourishment and became more and more healthy, she took in information faster.  Jenna seemed to have an instinct for learning.  Within the first year, she caught up to the other children her age.  In five years she could amazingly read and write in three different languages.  Professor Klunkin gave her a balanced schooling, with such subjects as mathematics, history, geography and many other basic teachings.  Then he proceeded to school her in the arcane arts of magic.  He started her off on the basics of magic, with theories and ethics of magic included.  Jenna seemed to take to all of this knowledge with a passion and joy that pleased the old man well. 

            Jenna rarely went into the rest of the orphanage and then only with the professor.  In case of emergencies, she was taught a few defensive spells early on.  Ones that would hold or trap a person that intended to do her harm, so that she could get away.  There was also a wand that could be used in a pinch if necessary.  The biggest disadvantage to this seclusion is that while it kept her safe, it also kept her from becoming socially active or knowledgeable. 

            Jenna did not mind this really.  There was the occasion where she wished for a friend other than the wonderful old tollome that had fallen for a thin wraith of a pitiful girl.  There were always the books and the enormous amount of information to be absorbed.  She felt that she could take on any amount of data and still want more.  To Jenna, being in the professor’s quarters with all of these books was rather like any other child in a candy store.  The girl especially liked listening to the Professor talking of magic and enjoyed learning how to wield it herself.  By the age of fifty years (about sixteen in human years) Jenna was already fluent with basic forms of magic.  She could wield many styles of magic and understood most languages of the arcane.  In addition to this, she came to know alchemy and the specialty forms of magic such as rune magic and weapon enhancing.  In truth, while next to Klunkin she was an apprentice, the girl could hold her own as a master next to most mages in the world. 

            It was at the age of twenty-two that Jenna experienced the purple explosion.  While the professor does not know what happened, Jenna does.  You see; it seems that a little scamp of a tollomish orphan somehow managed to get into the professor’s tower.  The boy was looking around in areas that no one was allowed to be.  In the tower study, the professor was examining a special magical item and had his various chemicals, scrolls and other ingredients around him.  The boy was quietly sneaking around taking a look at this and that, peaking into this box or examining that container.  Jenna walked in about that time and noticed the lad poking around.  She was about to say something when she noticed that the professor was involved in work that simply could not be disturbed.  It was then that the boy noticed Jenna.  He dropped the box that he had been looking at and a wind came forth from it.  This wind blew papers and scrolls about the study.  One of the scrolls, a particularly powerful one with a wooden holder in it, knocked into a vial of purple liquid used for identifying spells.  The liquid spilled out onto a few scrolls and mixed in with the runes.  Professor Klunkin began frantically waving at the liquid trying to stop it from causing harm.  At this point he suddenly remembered that he was in the process of wielding magic.  This magic wafted around like a small mystical breeze fanning the liquid drenched scrolls.  This was a very bad thing.  Luckily for both the professor and Jenna, they were wearing their warded necklaces that protected them from such explosions that occurred next.  The boy did not need a necklace.  In the way of the truly mischievous, he ran at the first sign of trouble and was out of the tower at the time of the explosion. 

            Jenna woke up a few of days later.  She had been staring at everything that had happened.  When the explosion occurred, she was looking straight at it.  The professor had had the sense to duck just in time.  Jenna however, was caught in the full blast and not even her necklace was enough to save her.  The half elf girl had three broken ribs and a fractured wrist.  The worst part of it was that her hair was now a rich velvety purple color.  The burst of color that was mixed in the blast had even managed to put light purple striations in her bright opal eyes.  They weren't very noticeable for the most part.  Somewhat of a light lavender to begin with.  When Jenna gets angry, they darken into lightning streaks of purple that flash throughout the iris.  This upset Jenna very badly for about the first few years.  Then she began to realize that the hair made her unique.  And her eyes were quite intimidating when she became angry.  These things set her apart from others and gave her a little bit of a personality that she didn't have in common with most other beings.

Though was raised as an orphan, she became well off due to the fact that she assists the professor in the making of potions and scrolls of magic.  Many of the items she makes herself.  This has increased profits for both of them.  Due to the fact that she now has money she is able to buy nice things for herself.  Jenna likes to have nice dresses and will spend a little more for them.  She felt very guilty at first until she realized that they could in fact afford such.  As far as jewelry went, Klunkin made magical pieces that were not only functional, but actually looked very nice.  For Jenna’s fiftieth birthday he presented her with a set of jewelry that had powerful enchantments on it.  It included an ornate necklace, a tiara, two bracelets that covered the entire length of the lower arm and ended in a semi glove with a ring over the middle finger.  These bracelets looked like a metallic sort of lace.  They have four rows of four amethysts down the arm.  These are magical conductors for the bracelets.  There is also an opal on the back of the hand that is the primary power source and the gem that communicates with the other pieces.  There are opals and amethysts on all of the jewelry.  There are also matching shin guards that resemble the bracelets.


Monday, October 14, 2013

Updated Maps of Ryallon

Explanation

This isn't much of a post.  I've been working on the map of Ryallon recently and wanted to share the updates I've made.  My maps were originally drawn by hand, but I've gradually improved them using GIMP.


I've done previous posts on my maps, which you can find here:
http://ryallon.blogspot.com/2013/04/fantasy-maps-of-ryallon.html
http://ryallon.blogspot.com/2011/05/mapmaking-for-fantasy-worlds.html

It's interesting to see the changes that have happened along the way and how things have evolved. :)

What was changed

The first was to clean up all of the borders from the rough pencil markings to computer generated markings (high-tech way of saying I used the mouse as a pencil in GIMP)  This just makes everything look cleaner.  I also made slight adjustments to borders.  Blame it on the emo bunnies.

The next, and more important thing was that I added cities.  I didn't name the cities with a couple of exceptions, but I put the little dots on the map.  (That's the super hard part, you know)  Then I added the highways.  It gives a little idea of where people travel.  It also looks like super cool spider webs.

I didn't complete all of it.  The Iynath Empire is untouched as are a couple of other countries on that side of the map.  I don't have anything happening over there any time soon, so it can wait.

Also, the cities that are marked are larger cities.  The continent of Nulanea is bigger than Asia (Don't hold me to that. I'm a writer, we change our minds more than is healthy)  There will be countless smaller cities, towns, villages and thorpes (I'm not going to tell you what a thorpe is. :p)

The Maps

Continent of Nulanea, Ryallon


The Country of Eddland and surrounding countries, Setting for the Wyvern Trilogy.


 The country of Soaarth, Primary setting for the Crazed Trilogy.




I hope you've looking at made up maps for a made up world (so far as you know)  I've certainly enjoyed making it up (so far as you know)

All my best,

John H. Carroll


Monday, July 29, 2013

Excerpt from "Liselle" Book 1 of the Crazed Trilogy, coming August 2013

This is an excerpt from my current work in progress, "Liselle", Book 1 of the Crazed Trilogy.

In which Liselle and Vevin meet Reben and Teluith.



They spent the nights at inns along the way, but made good time.  Midday on the fifth day after leaving the campground, Vevin motioned for them to stop.  “I smell people ahead.  They need to take baths.”

Liselle looked at the trees bordering the highway.  There was less activity among the wildlife than usual.  Patchy clouds in the sky didn’t give any indication of releasing moisture.  The heat of the day had made Liselle sleepy and she realized that the flowers were warning her of danger ahead.  “It’s a trap.  There are people waiting to ambush us.”

“Shall I go full dragon and take a stroll through their ambush?”  Vevin grinned hopefully.

Liselle laughed.  “No.  I want to talk to them and find out why they’re ambushing us.”

Vevin threw his hands in the air.  “What a ridiculous idea!  What if they try to kill us?”

With a casual gesture, Liselle cast a spell of protection that strengthened her skin and made her mind immune to intrusion.  It also created a barrier against magical attacks.  “Then I’ll have to sit on them while asking the questions.”

Vevin didn’t need to do a protection spell as he had the same defenses naturally.  “Fine.  We’ll do it your way.  I’m not hiding myself this time though.”

Liselle rode forward, ready for trouble.  It didn’t take long for them to be stopped by trees across the highway.  It looked as though they had been dragged there by horses, judging from the hoof prints in the dirt. “Oh no,” Liselle said in a loud, flat voice.  “Trees have fallen across the road.  Whatever shall we do?”

Vevin held his arms up and looked to the sky.  “Where’s a beaver when you need one?”

Liselle giggled.

A man wearing a mask and wide brimmed hat with a turkey feather in its band came out from the woods and jumped on one of the trees across the road.  He tripped on a branch before gaining his balance.  “Stay where you are, travelers!” he yelled in a tinny voice.  With a clumsy move, he drew his sword and pointed it at Vevin and Liselle.  “You must pay highway tax to pass.”  There was nothing about him to inspire the belief he was dangerous.

“Very well, I shall pay you two sticks,” Liselle suggested.  “A fair tax, methinks.”

“Oh yes, very fair,” Vevin agreed.

The man stared at her to discern if she was serious.  “You will pay in gold, milady.  We’ll start with your jewelry.”  He indicated the necklace and earrings she wore.

“But sticks are so much more valuable,” Liselle insisted.  “You can use them to make fire, you can use them to beat people with, you can rub them together and you can even use them to make music by banging on hollow logs.  I’ll pay you three sticks for your tax.  That’s my final offer.”  Another trick she had learned from Tathan was that saying outrageous things could throw people off their guard.  Vevin was trying to hide giggles behind a hand and was failing.  She liked making the dragon giggle.

Confusion ruled the man’s expression.  He looked at someone in the trees and shrugged helplessly.

Neither Liselle nor Vevin were surprised when eight poorly-clad bandits with simple weapons slipped quietly out of the woods to surround them.  The flowers had informed Liselle that the bandits were waiting and Vevin had his own ways of knowing.

To Liselle’s surprise, a chocolate-skinned woman with sky-blue hair woman came forward.  Unlike the other bandits, she was well equipped, wearing brown leather pants and jacket.  She wore a white skullcap to protect her scalp from the damage of the sun.  A quarterstaff twirled expertly in her gloved hands.  She planted one end on the ground and leaned on it while smirking at her new victims.

The woman’s staccato accent was lively and a bit difficult to understand.  “Your proposal of sticks, it is more generous than most offers, but it will not be sufficient.  You wear such fine jewelry and clothes.  Your horses and whatever you have in your packs, they will be of great use to us as well, no?”

The man who had first spoken gave way to her.  He had been a decoy, often used by bandits in case their victims decided to kill the leader immediately.  It was rarely a job anyone volunteered for.

Vevin turned to Liselle, speaking loudly enough for all to hear.  “Remember that I’m allowed to eat thieves.”  It was one of the exclusions to the provision in the human-dragon treaty, one Vevin liked to point out whenever anyone dangerous came near Liselle.

“You know I don’t like it when you eat people, darling.  It’s messy and the sound of crunching bones gives me the shivers.”  Liselle was very thankful that he had never actually eaten anyone.

A dark-skinned wizard slipped out from behind the tree the bandit leader had come from.  He wore an earthen-green robe that matched his dark blonde hair and beard.  In his hand was a smooth wizard’s staff topped by a circular device with a series of multicolored crystals wrapped in wire.  A skullcap identical to the woman’s covered his head.  It was an unusual accessory in Soaarth where women preferred bonnets and men enjoyed rounded hats with wide brims.

The wizard’s voice was softer and his accent wasn’t as heavy as the woman’s, though it was from the same place.  “Teluith, I think the one might be serious about eating us.  There is a spell altering his appearance.  They both have magical protections, but I can’t tell you what they are.”

The bandit leader turned her head to speak to him over her shoulder.  “Why can you not tell me what they are?”

“The protections are subtle, which indicates great skill.”  The wizard’s words made the bandits nervous.  Liselle held still so as not to startle someone into doing something stupid.

“Greater skill than your own, Reben?”  Teluith’s smirk was gone as she studied Liselle and Vevin carefully.  She moved the quarterstaff into a ready position.

Teluith and Reben didn’t look anything like bandits.  Liselle had met a group of people in Scinta who had dark skin like the pair.  They were originally from the continent of Pomelea over the western ocean.  It was a long, difficult journey made by few.

Reben cocked his head in confusion.  “You know that my skill is not very good, Teluith.”

Teluith put a hand on her hip.  “You must not admit so in front of our guests.”

“We should leave them alone, Teluith.  I feel it in my gut.  Please trust me on this.”  Reben chewed nervously on his lip.

“I trust your feelings, but . . . Very well.”  Teluith snapped her fingers and made a gesture.  The bandits reluctantly disappeared into the trees with the exception of Teluith and Reben.  “Letting valuables go is not in my nature.”  The smirk came back to her face.  “You two may move the trees blocking this road on your own.”

Liselle concentrated on the trees lying in the road.  With a gesture and a breath, they rose into the air and settled in the drainage ditch.  The magic use generated mystical winds that affected Liselle, but no one else.  Her hair rustled around her face from it.  Moving objects took some effort, but she handled it quickly and efficiently.

Teluith darted to the opposite side of the road near were Reben stood.  “It seems your gut feelings have saved us again, husband.”

“She didn’t use an incantation or proper gestures.  She has power I don’t understand.”  Reben fearfully grabbed Teluith’s hand to pull her toward the woods.

“Wait!”  Liselle held out an arm.  “Please don’t leave.  I want to talk to you.”  The dark-skinned couple stopped and turned, still holding hands.

Vevin leaned in.  “Generally, escaping an ambush like we just did is a good thing.  We don’t have to talk to everyone.”

“We don’t want trouble,” Reben said with a wave.  “So sorry to disturb you.”

“I just want to talk to you.”  Liselle jumped off her horse and gave the reins to Vevin.  She walked toward where Reben was struggling to drag his wife away.

Teluith stood her ground.  “Why do you want to talk to us?  If you wish to stall us so that troops can come to arrest us, it is foolish.  There are no soldiers for a day’s travel in either direction.”

Liselle shook her head as she walked to them.  “No.  I just want to understand why you would rob people.  I’m trying to understand why people do bad things to other people.”  She stopped when Teluith held up a warning hand.

“Come no closer.  I don’t know who you are, but I will fight to the death to protect my people.”  Teluith held the staff in a defensive position.

“As will I.”  Reben moved his hands and began speaking an incantation.  The mystical breeze created affected only him.  It gusted his hair and robes.

Liselle waited patiently for the wizard to finish the spell of protection he cast over him and his wife.  “I’m not going to fight you.  Why are you bandits?  Do you like hurting people?”

They looked at each other with frowns and then at her.  “Are you serious?” Teluith asked in disbelief.  “What sort of question is that?”  A few of the other bandits were peering from the woods, worried for their leaders.

Vevin came up behind Liselle.  He had dismounted and was leading both of their horses.  “Hi there.  I’m Vevin.  This is Liselle, my mate.  I’m very glad I didn’t have to chomp your bones.”

Liselle smacked her head.  “How rude of me.  I always forget to introduce myself.”  She held out a hand in greeting.  “It’s very nice to meet you, Teluith, and you, Reben.”

They looked at the hand as though it might be a snake about to bite them.  Teluith took it and shook.  “I suppose it is nice to meet you too.  It will be even nicer if you will hand over that jewelry.”

Liselle laughed and took one of the small pouches she had hidden in her shirt.  “I have twenty silver pieces in here.  If you answer my questions, I’ll give it to you.”

Teluith licked her lips.  “That is not enough to care for this group, but I will take it.”  She snatched the purse faster than Liselle could blink.  “So you want to know why we became bandits?  Very well, I will tell you.”

“Oh good.”  Liselle clapped her hands together and gave a little jump.  “Do you have someplace where we can sit?  Perhaps we can start a fire for some dinner later.”

Reben and Teluith exchanged glances.  “I am not certain if the idea to bring you to camp is good.”

“You’re going to end up doing it sooner or later.”  Vevin grinned.  “Everyone does.”

Liselle thwapped him in the shoulder.  “Don’t mind Vevin.  If you don’t want to sit down and be comfortable, we can talk on the highway.  The wagon train with lots of armed guards that we passed this morning should be here eventually and perhaps they’ll want to join the conversation.”

Reben nodded at Teluith’s quick glance.  “They will be here within the hour and we will not have the ability to defeat them without loss of life.”

“We will have company for dinner then.”  Teluith smiled mischievously.  “You may hand over your horses to my people.  They will keep them safe.”

“Anyone who tries to take our horses is going to lose a hand.”  Vevin snapped his teeth.

Teluith stepped back in alarm, noticing the sharp teeth for the first time.  “What in the world are you?”

“He’s a dragon,” Liselle mentioned casually.  “I haven’t fed him yet, so he might find a hand tasty.  Perhaps we should just let him handle the horses.  You mentioned a camp?”

Teluith looked at the pouch of coins in her hand as though she regretted taking them.  But she nodded and gestured for them to follow her.



Sunday, September 30, 2012

Pelya - Chapter 1

This is the first chapter of my upcoming book, "Pelya".  It will be released in late November.



Chapter 1

“Sornin, I’m beginning to think that everyone has decided to become honest lately,” Pelya said with a grin as she rested against a lamppost. A breeze lazily carried the sounds of the city through the air.

Sornin responded with a snort. “You shouldn’t ask for trouble, Pelya, especially not at the beginning of our shift. There’ll be plenty to go around at some point or another.” He straightened the collar of his chain shirt underneath his tunic, a nervous habit. They wore the brown and black uniforms of the Dralin City Guard. “And thinking that everyone stopped committing crimes is pure fantasy.”

Pelya stood straight and tugged on her braided black hair, an unconscious habit she had. “Come now Sornin, the weather is pleasant with the heat of summer gone. Fall colors cover the trees and the threat of winter is still far away. We’re in for a long, boring night, so it wouldn’t hurt to let a smile crack those lips of yours.”

He gave her a slight smile, more than most people received. Brown hair framed his narrow face and he always wore a severe expression. Pelya trusted him implicitly though, especially since he had protected her back more than once, as she had his.

They were patrolling the Orange Sash District, named after perfume-laden prostitutes that wore orange sashes to mark their profession. Garishly painted bordellos lined the street and women called out from windows to potential clients below.

Pelya’s unit was in the center of the district where the clientele tended towards middle class workers. Rich, ornate buildings housed a higher class of prostitute in the northern section of the district while run-down parlor houses were in the south.

Pelya checked everyone’s positions, her sapphire-blue eyes sparkling in the late afternoon sun. There were six people in her unit, loosely organized, ready for battle if needed. The fact that they walked without a specific formation made them less predictable.

She had become unit leader on her nineteenth birthday last month and immediately established herself as a charismatic leader. Sornin was her unit-buddy and second in charge. They were one of four units in the squad. The other three units were within hearing distance of the whistle around her neck, which made a piercing signal that carried over the sounds of the busy streets.

Scantily clad men and women on the streets encouraged potential customers to enter the bordellos. Most were respectful to the Guardmembers who watched over them and kept them safe, or as safe as it was possible to keep anyone in the most dangerous city on the world of Ryallon.

“Does your father know that Captain Fallamer has you stationed in the Orange Sash?” Yobi, a veteran Guardsman, asked. He looked up at the puffy clouds in the sky and stretched.

Pelya gave her long braid another yank. “Yes. He’s mad about it too. But he needs to understand that he can’t protect me from doing my job.” She remembered the yelling match they had about it the week before.

Yobi shook his head in amazement. “I wouldn’t want to cross Sergeant Frath Jornin even if I was a captain. I like working for Captain Fallamer, but she’s crazy for giving you this assignment.”

Joll, his unit-buddy, smacked Yobi on the shoulder with the back of her hand. “Watch what you say.” She glanced up at Pelya nervously. Joll was a short, young woman who was intimidated by Pelya’s six-foot frame.

Pelya waved off the concern. “Daddy unnerves most people, and it is a bad idea to cross him.” She winked, more than happy to protect her father’s reputation. They both gulped.

They heard a muffled scream. Joll pointed down the street a side street. “A woman, taken down the alley by a group of thugs!” Before she was done with the sentence, they all had their swords drawn and ready.

Pelya immediately shouted orders. “Watch for surprises and protect each other!” She gave her whistle two sharp tweets and a long one to let the other units in the squad know that they were investigating trouble.

Her unit dashed toward the alley while curious bystanders scurried out of the way. The speed with which the well-trained fighters moved was remarkable. The Dralin City Guard had a system for pursuit that made it difficult to escape. Each Guardmember studied maps of every alley and sewer intensively before they were let lose in a District.

A sharp turn into the murky alley and they could see the kidnappers dragging the struggling woman through the back door of a smog-blackened building, slamming it shut behind them.

The members of the unit dashed forward, stepped to either side of the door and prepared for entrance. Sornin tossed a runeball that would detect any spells or traps on the door. It would even disarm most generic spells. It floated in front of the doorway for a moment, shining with a greenish light as it spun and did its magic. All was clear. Sornin retrieved the ball just as Pelya blew two long tweets followed by a short one to indicate to the rest of the squad that her unit was entering a building. She kicked the old, wooden door, shattering it with one blow.

Pelya moved inside carefully, letting her eyes grow accustomed to the dim light. Sornin was right behind her, sword at the ready. Two lanterns revealed chipped paint on the wooden walls and threadbare runners on the floor. Pelya’s instincts told her the woman would have been taken further than the first rooms on either side of the hallway, so she headed toward a door at the very end. Sornin signaled for the others to be ready for battle. They advanced in staggered formation.

At the end of the hall, Sornin tossed the runeball past his leader. It flashed with red light, disarming a ward on the door. The ball sucked in magical energy causing it to disintegrate, its enchantment used up.

Sornin and Pelya exchanged worried glances. Red light indicated an alarm ward. Even though it was disarmed, anyone inside would know someone was standing outside the door. Pelya felt a little uneasy about walking into a certain ambush, but the circumstances required instant action. If they didn’t engage immediately, the woman would be lost.

With another well-placed kick, she took down the door. Sornin rushed in first while Pelya followed right behind. They moved to either side of the door, clearing a safe path for the rest.

Ten fighters stood back in the surprisingly large and crowded room instead of coming forth to attack. The sight of expensive furnishings, shoved aside for a fight, made it clear to Pelya that this was a place for criminal operations. In contrast to the hallway outside, the walls had fresh paint, wall hangings and expensive carpets.

Sornin yelled in loud, clear tones, “Dralin City Guard! Put down your weapons!”

The fighters lifted their swords higher and crouched, ready for battle. Pelya realized they would face a fight, something she didn’t want. “No one needs to get hurt! We just have questions.” Joll and Yobi came through the door and moved forward, making space for the last two.

A blonde man glared at the intruders from behind a desk at the far end of the room as though they were flies landing on his dinner. He wore a fancy purple shirt, black pants and a fine sword at the hip. Two men next to the desk held the kidnapped woman. A woman in yellow robes was gesturing with her hands and a supernatural wind blew hair about her face.

Pelya and Sornin realized at the same time why the fighters were holding back. “Magic!” they shouted together. In unison, Pelya’s unit cast fast protective spells, taught as standard training in the Guard. It would complement protections already built into their uniforms. They were just in time, saving them from the effects of the spell.

Pelya’s knife flew through the air, its target the spellcaster. The knife was special issue to all unit leaders, made to pierce magical defenses and kill wizards. The wizard had already begun another spell and wasn’t able to dodge the flying blade that pierced his throat and dropped him to the ground.

Five, Pelya thought to herself. It was how many people she had killed in her life, a number she hated. She blew her whistle in two short bursts, the signal that they were engaging in battle. Hopefully, it would be heard through the open doors to outside.

The true battle began. Their foes were not amateurs, but few were good enough to match a member of Dralin’s Guard. Pelya had two men to deal with immediately. Her sword darted through the air faster than her opponents could parry. One fell quickly. Six. A number she hated more than five.

She stalled the other man with rapid parries in order to check on her unit. Joll was down and would never get up again. The rest of the unit was hard pressed. Then two more foes engaged Pelya. She finished off the one she had stalled, seven, and went to the next. A quick move here and another there, the two were wounded. She reevaluated the unit’s situation and realized another of her unit was down. As she killed another attacker, eight, Albin, a third member of her unit also fell. Sornin and Yobi stood with her against three hardened fighters, four others lying dead on the floor.

The man that had been behind the desk was now closer with Albin’s blood on his blade. His brown eyes were cold and ruthless, taking measure of them. His nostrils flared and his brows lowered as he closed the distance. The remaining foes backed off.

Pelya knew that they all stood a chance of dying if they stood their ground. It was against the policy of the Dralin City Guard for every member of a unit to die. At least one of them must return to the squad and report the incident. “Report Yobi! Now!” Pelya yelled.

He took the order and went through the doorway only to find three more fighters blocking the way. Sornin turned and helped to clear the escape route while Pelya stood in the doorway and guarded their retreat.

The stranger with the hard eyes was in front of her. Pelya’s sword clashed against his blade. Sparks of light and color came from their swords showing that both contained magic. He was a swordmaster and his enchanted blade met every stroke of hers effortlessly. Even though she was also a swordmaster, her thrusts and parries became more desperate with each blow. She tumbled around him for better position.

Pelya sensed one of the fighters attacking her from behind. An exaggerated move and a fast dodge put her behind the man. She pushed him forward. Without blinking, the swordmaster killed his own man.

The swordmaster’s blade met hers again with a supernatural speed. Closer and closer it came, as though the blade itself wished to drink of her blood. She could see the man’s nostrils flaring even more as he came on. There was power and experience in his arm. He had spent more time wielding a sword than she. It was not just the enchantment in the steel.

Pelya sensed movement behind her. She made a quick roll backward and to the side. Another fighter behind her missed with a wicked thrust at her back. Every ounce of Pelya’s training, in addition to her natural talent, came into play. She jumped up from the roll just in time to see the mysterious swordmaster kill the man for interfering in his battle.

There is a moment after a person kills someone when they pause to take in the shock of it. The hardest killer may have it down to an almost nonexistent moment, but it is there.

Pelya struck in that moment, a quick thrust, tight and deadly. It missed. Anyone else would have died. The man moved even faster than Gilron Coodmur, the Guard’s weaponmaster.

Pain stung Pelya’s cheek as she jerked her head back and tumbled to the side. The swordmaster’s blade was sharp. Pelya ignored the blood flowing down her chin and the swordmaster’s cruel smile as she parried another of his blows.

The next cut her thigh. Another cut the back of her hand as she tumbled and failed to take out his hamstring with a spinning swing.

He was too fast and his blade bit into her forehead as her sword moved too slowly to counter. Blood flowed past her eyes, impairing her vision.

Pelya’s back grew warm. Time slowed.

Her blade met the man’s sword in slow motion and then darted forward to slash his chin.

The swordmaster was surprised as he parried her next blow. He was more surprised when another cut through his shirt to the skin of his chest.

Time slowed even more as their blades clashed again and again, neither gaining the advantage. The warmth on Pelya’s back increased, spreading into her bones. Shadows watched intently.

They separated. The swordmaster rolled toward the desk while Pelya rolled toward the door. For an instant, the opponents stared at each other with the intensity of suns, memorizing every detail about the other.

The swordmaster dashed through a secret door held open by one of his fighters. It closed behind them.

Pelya took a step forward before realizing that the room was filled with Guardmembers and that the remaining fighters had been subdued. The kidnapped woman was crying into the shoulder of a Guard.

“Pelya!” Sornin said. “Pelya!”

Everything was surreal as she turned to face him. Normalcy came rushing in, causing her to stagger backwards. The heat on her back and in her bones lessened. The shadows slid back into themselves.

Squad Sergeant Herman Melvor came and took her arm in concern. “Pelya. Are you alright? You’re bleed . . . By the Gods . . . Your cuts are disappearing! What healing magic is that?”

Pelya’s mouth clenched shut. The dragon mark on her back prevented her from speaking. It had slowed time and improved her reflexes during the battle. Now it healed her wounds, but it also prevented her from ever talking about it. Most of the time she didn’t even remember it was there, so insidious was the geas that prevented her from revealing it.

Squad Corporal Jecks put his hand on Pelya’s sword hand in a calming motion. “I’ve never seen anyone move so fast, you or him.” Concern lit his grey eyes and filled his thick voice.

Pelya wiped and sheathed her sword at the corporal’s gesture. She still couldn’t respond. Sornin put a supportive hand on her shoulder while Yobi stood behind with his arms crossed. Once of the squad wizards was trying to figure out the secret door while the other helped the squad healer look after the fallen Guardmembers. Pelya realized that Sornin and Yobi were the only ones who survived.

“Report, Unit Leader,” Sergeant Melvor said. Pelya normally called him Uncle Herman. He had helped Pelya’s father raise her since she was a baby. His brown eyes showed that he wanted to protect her, but he was being professional.

It helped. Pelya’s jaw unlocked and she relayed the details of the incident. “The unit heard a woman scream and began pursuit of two men who were dragging that woman into an alley.” Pelya pointed at the woman who was still sobbing into the shoulder of a Guardsman. The Guardsman looked at Sergeant Melvor with pleading eyes.

The sergeant ignored the look, leaving the man to suffer the woman’s tears. “Go on, Pelya. What happened next?”

Pelya was still gulping in air from exertion. “We saw them enter this building. After Sornin checked the door for wards, I broke it down and led my unit into the building. I whistled . . .”

Sergeant Melvor nodded. “We heard your whistles.”

“We went through the hallways to this door and discovered an alarm ward on it. It was deactivated and I kicked in the door.”

“Did you check any of the side doors in the hallway?” Corporal Jecks asked.

“I did not,” Pelya said with a sinking feeling in her stomach. She remembered the fighters who had come behind them. “My instincts told me the woman was in this room at the end of the hall and that we needed to get to her as fast as possible.”

Corporal Jecks nodded. Pelya couldn’t tell if he approved or disapproved. He was hard to read.

“There were about ten armed fighters in the room, a wizard, the kidnappers, the kidnapped woman and the man I was fighting.” Pelya stopped and stared at the secret doorway that the squad wizard still hadn’t figured out.

One of the guardsmen who was examining the bodies of the fighters stood and came over. “A few of these fighters were once soldiers from the Kingdom of Deller. I recognize tattoos on the base of the neck given to everyone who joins their army. Theirs have additional marks to indicate that they were discharged dishonorably.”

“Good work, Private Wibben.” Sergeant Melvor frowned. “Do you have any idea why ex-soldiers from Deller would be here, Pelya?”

“No, Sergeant. We called for them to put away their weapons and said that we just wanted to ask questions, but the wizard cast a spell at us.” Pelya pointed at the dead mage. Her knife was still sticking from his neck.

“Nice shot,” Corporal Jecks said. “That’s your knife, right?” He pointed at Pelya’s empty sheath.

“Yes, Corporal. The odds were against us and the wizard immediately began casting another spell. I truly believed it the only real option.” Pelya didn’t tell him that the wizard was the fifth person she had killed in her life. That was a private number. “We cast our warding spells upon seeing the wizard, which protected us from the first casting. I didn’t know if they would hold up against another.”

Corporal Jecks gave a sharp nod of approval. “Good decision.” Pelya was astonished. It was the highest praise she had heard him give anyone.

“What happened then, Pelya?” Sergeant Melvor asked.

“The fighters attacked us and there was no time to do anything but fight back. They were skilled.” She looked at Joll’s body. It was surreal to Pelya that Guardmembers could be defeated.

Private Wibben stared at the bodies. “They were very skilled to take out three Guardspeople.”

Pelya worked on leveling her breathing. “I ordered Yobi to run for help. He was blocked by three fighters and Sornin went to help him while I watched their backs.”

Sornin spoke to her defense. “Pelya’s the best of us. I thought she would be able to hold off the rest in spite of their skill.”

“You made a good decision,” Sergeant Melvor said. “Getting word to the squad was priority. And I trust Pelya to guard my back any day.” He smiled at Pelya and squeezed her shoulder.

Pelya had a sudden urge to burst into tears, but she resisted it. “That swordmaster attacked me next and all my time was spent defending against him. He killed two of his own men, one to get to me, the other because the fighter tried to kill me.”

“He carried himself like a duelist,” Private Wibben said. “I’ve seen the type. They’re everywhere in Deller. Although he was better than any I’ve seen.”

“Are you from Deller?” Jecks asked.

Wibben shook his head. “No. I’m from Obda to the north of Deller. Their soldiers make a nuisance of themselves and occasionally come to border towns for drinking and wenching.” He looked at Pelya. “I’ve never seen anyone move as fast as either of you. There was magic involved.”

Pelya’s jaw clenched shut again. She couldn’t talk about the mark. With a deft switch of thought, she remembered the swordmaster’s weapon. Her jaw unlocked. “He had a magical blade, superior to the standard guard issue.” She patted the sword at her side. It wasn’t standard, having been a gift from the Guard’s weaponmaster, but it looked like one and few knew otherwise.

“If it makes him move faster, it’s a powerful enchantment.” Jecks looked suspiciously at Pelya. “How did you move so fast, Pelya?”

Her jaw didn’t lock, almost as though the mark trusted her not to reveal its presence. She rewarded its faith by deflecting the corporal’s question. “I don’t think his sword was just magical. I could feel it studying me, testing me. I think it may have had a name.”

The statement drew gasps. Magical weapons and other items were common, especially in Dralin, but a named item meant it had a soul. It could think and influence the person that owned it. They were incredibly powerful, priceless and dangerous.

“We need to know who he is and why he wanted this woman kidnapped.” Sergeant Melvor gestured at the woman who had finally stopped crying and was wiping her eyes with the sleeve of her extravagant dress.

She held her head high. “Because I’m the daughter of Chancellor Divathia.”

“Chancellor Divathia of the High Council?” Sergeant Melvor asked in surprise. He thumped a fist to his chest in salute. “Milady.”

She gathered loose strands of her auburn hair and put them in a makeshift ponytail. “I did my best to fight them off, but they were too strong. They killed my personal guards.” She looked at a rip in the sleeve of her dress. “Mother’s going to kill me for ruining this dress.”

None of the men knew how to respond and just stood there stupidly. Pelya winked. “Blame it on the kidnappers and tell your mother they ripped it just to spite her.”

The woman’s face lit up. “Brilliant idea. That way it’s her fault.” She came over and wrapped Pelya in a hug, nearly suffocating her with the heavy scent of jasmine perfume. “Thank you for saving my life. I saw your unit just before they dragged me into the alley. It took every ounce of my strength to get the hand away from my mouth long enough to scream.” She stood back and looked up at Pelya. “I will see to it that you are rewarded. Mother will want to meet you.”

Pelya gulped. The High Council was the ruling body of Dralin and outranked even the Grand Assembly responsible for running the country of Altordan. The twelve chancellors of the High Council were the most powerful people in the kingdom and it wasn’t wise to attract their attention, good or bad.

The woman sighed and shook her head. “Of course you don’t want to meet her. Nobody wants anything to do with her or me.” She crossed her arms and turned to look at the rest of the room. “Eww. Why am I still in a room with dead bodies? This is disgusting.” She turned back to Herman and held her arms out in an expression of incredulity. “Why am I still here, Sergeant whatever your name is?”

“His name is Sergeant Melvor,” Pelya said. “My name is Pelya Jornin.”

The woman looked at Pelya in shock and then a smile lit her face. “I’m Yancy. Please get me out of this room. These dead bodies are starting to unnerve me.”

Pelya looked to Sergeant Melvor, who nodded. She led her to the alley outside. Sornin and Yobi followed.

“Finish gathering evidence,” Sergeant Melvor ordered Corporal Jecks. “The messengers I sent should have reached Captain Fallamer and she’ll be here soon. I want everything ready to present to her.” He then followed Pelya and the others into the alley. “The captain will want to speak to you Lady Divathia. We’ll arrange to get you home just as soon as possible.”

“Fine, but I want Pelya to escort me. I saw how good she is with a sword, better than any of my guards.” Yancy studied Pelya.

Sergeant Melvor looked distinctly uncomfortable with the suggestion. “I don’t have that authority, milady, but I’m sure Captain Fallamer will allow her to join the escort before returning to finish her report.”

Just then, an officer with short red hair jogged up along with a full squad. Her thin, red eyebrows furrowed in a frown at seeing Pelya, but she turned to Melvor. “Report, Sergeant.”

Yancy ignored the sergeant who began to report the details to Captain Fallamer. She grabbed Pelya’s arm, dragging her next to a nearby wall. “You’re Pelya Jornin, the guard brat, aren’t you?”

Pelya suppressed the urge to punch the woman in the face.

Yancy gasped and covered her mouth. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean it that way . . .” She grabbed Pelya’s arms. “Please don’t be mad at me. It’s just that . . . everyone calls you that . . . I mean . . . that’s not what I mean . . .” She turned around and threw her hands up in frustration. “I’ve gone and messed up again. I’ll never learn. Everyone hates me. I’m so stupid!”

Pelya crossed her arms and set aside her personal feelings. “I have no idea whether or not you’re stupid, but I won’t hold it against you if you are.” She grinned at the look of shock on Yancy’s face as the woman spun back around.

“Oh . . . you . . .” And then Yancy laughed. “I like you, and I’m sorry I called you a guard brat.” She paused and put a hand on her chin. “Mother doesn’t approve of you though. That’s a problem.”

“Yes, well I’m used to people not approving of me,” Pelya said in disgust. “I don’t care, even if your mother is a member of the High Council. I don’t care what anyone thinks of me or of my father for raising me in the Guard.” She became angrier with each word. It was a sore spot with her and to know that she was discussed even within the High Council was offensive.

Yancy folded her hands in front of her and hung her head. “I’m sorry.”

Pelya wiped her face with a tired hand. She was drained now that all the energy pumped into her blood during battle was leaving.

“You’re shaking,” Yancy said while grabbing Pelya’s arms again. “Are you hurt?”

“No. I’m just tired and I killed . . .” Pelya stared back at the doorway, remembering the bodies of the men and the death of her unit mates. She wouldn’t cry though, not until she was safely alone with her father, or Ebudae.

“I’m trying to forget that! Please don’t talk about it. I’m trying to be brave, but I . . . I’ve never seen anyone die until now.” Yancy was pale as a ghost and looked about ready to faint.”

“Lady Yancy Divathia?” Captain Fallamer came up beside Pelya. “I’m giving you an escort to take you home along with a carriage that will be here momentarily. It’s my understanding that you wish Unit Leader Jornin to be in that escort?”

“Yes, Captain,” Yancy said with a slight curtsey. It was a proper gesture and a measure of respect.

“Very well, but she must return as soon as you are safely home. She has a report to make.”

“Yes, Captain. I’ll see to it. Thank you.” Yancy curtsied again.

Captain Fallamer gave Pelya’s shoulder a squeeze. “Come talk to me first thing when you get back to the Guard District, Unit Leader.” She smiled reassuringly.

“Yes, Captain.” Pelya didn’t feel reassured.

If you are interested in the first two books: