Present day
The misting rain chilled the pall bearers as they carried their sad load forward, the sealed casket a testament to its owner's violent death. A woman stood near the empty grave, the cascade of copper hair down her shoulders in stark contrast to her funerary black dress and the greyness in the sky. As well wishers spoke to her, tears carried on streaming from those breathtaking green eyes, a colour only one person in a million was born with. In the background, a man in somber grey clothing watched her intently, his arm cradled in a sling.
Monday, 25 May 2015
New Story in the pipelines!
Hey everyone,
Life's been a bit hectic lately, what with moving and studying and trying to find my feet again (apparently they're still attached to my legs, so I'm fine there). Anyway, that having been said, I'm currently working on a new short story. It was going to be entitled "Cunning", but "Misfortune" seems to be more appropriate, as I look at the content.
Anyway, there are lots of twists and turns, and a slight bit of romance. I hope this keeps you all interested, and I'll get to posting the first chapter right away!
Yours in writing,
Rook.
Life's been a bit hectic lately, what with moving and studying and trying to find my feet again (apparently they're still attached to my legs, so I'm fine there). Anyway, that having been said, I'm currently working on a new short story. It was going to be entitled "Cunning", but "Misfortune" seems to be more appropriate, as I look at the content.
Anyway, there are lots of twists and turns, and a slight bit of romance. I hope this keeps you all interested, and I'll get to posting the first chapter right away!
Yours in writing,
Rook.
Monday, 4 May 2015
Vengeance - Chapter 6
"You will end this tale at once, raconteur." Demanded the king.
"What for, sire? Have you no wish for the people to learn the tale of how their fine king came to have the throne?" Asked the raconteur with a vicious smile.
"Guards! Seize that man!" Ordered the king, fear and fury turning him pale.
"Quint, stop him please." Said the raconteur, prompting a figure to drop from the shadows of the rafters to land behind the king.
"My pleasure, master James." Said Quint, pressing a dagger to the king's throat. "Call off the guards, dukey." Hissed Quint into his ear.
"Guards! Hold!" Said the king, in a voice high with fear.
"Thank you kindly." Quipped Jim with a mocking bow. "Tom, if you would be so kind as to block the entrances?" He asked.
"Sure thing, Jim." Said Tom, detaching himself from the crowd and barring the doors.
"This man, your king, was once a cruel tyrant responsible for the deaths of thousands across what was once his dukedom, before he was exiled by the previous king. He paid tribes of bush dwellers to terrorise the city folk, and is responsible for the first recorded death in the resistance against him on the day we were rescued by Quint... The death of a good leader and greater friend. Matt -" Jim was interrupted by the clash of a tomahawk colliding with a shield as Dart protected his back, turned to the king as he addressed the crowd.
"Wrong move, madman. It was your last as king." Said Quint icily, only to feel himself pulled backwards by a massive hand on his shoulder. "What? Who are -" he began, before being flung across the room to land against the far wall and collapse in a heap on the floor.
"My lad, I don't want to hurt you. Step outside, walk away, and we'll forget all this happened." Said the newcomer, a massively built man wearing a pothelm and full plate armour. The broadaxe slung across the man's back stirred painful memories in Jim's mind.
"It can't be..." He whispered. "You're dead. We saw you die!"
"Guess I was just unlucky enough to live, wasn't I?" Said Matt.
"Not for much longer." Said Dart, drawing his sword. "You betrayed the cause for which you wore the sigil so many years ago. Disloyalty of that kind warrants death."
"I know those laws as well as you, Joseph Tinley. I helped write them, after all." The onlookers muttered in surprise at hearing the mysterious Dart being identified as the high leader of the resistance.
"Draw, so I can cut you down like a man, Matt!"
"Well now, " said Matt, unlimbering his axe and holding it ready, "let's have at you." The moment Matt said the last word, Dart was racing towards him to deliver a massive jump strike aimed at the junction point in his armour by his neck. Seeing what was coming, Matt caught the blow on the head of his axe. Dart, keeping Matt on the back foot, launched a series of furious attacks until finally, a blow found its mark with a dull crunch, and Matt fell to his knees. With a horrible sense of Déjà vu, Jim ran to his side and ignored the cries of his companions to back away. "Matt," he said, "why?"
"Why what, lad? Ain't much to tell. Bush folk were in the pay of the duke, and I found out later they used a paralysing poison on their arrows. It slowed my heart and stopped the bleeding. When I came to, I had one of two choices: Serve, or be tortured. Held out as long as I could, but the longing for fresh air, clean water and a pain free existence became too great. Even now..." Said Matt, gripping Jim's shoulder, "even now, the thought of ensuring my family's safety compels me." As he spoke, Matt drew a dagger from his belt and drove it into Jim's heart, and the heart of the rebellion at the same time. Weeping, Matt pulled Jim into an embrace as Tom sprang forward to finish what Dart had begun, before turning his blade on all nearby in his grief, guilty and innocent alike. As the hall erupted into chaos and people fled through doors they had broken down, the king stood in the center of the hall and wept over the corpses of his brother and nephew, realising that power often brings regret and loneliness rather than fulfillment.
"What for, sire? Have you no wish for the people to learn the tale of how their fine king came to have the throne?" Asked the raconteur with a vicious smile.
"Guards! Seize that man!" Ordered the king, fear and fury turning him pale.
"Quint, stop him please." Said the raconteur, prompting a figure to drop from the shadows of the rafters to land behind the king.
"My pleasure, master James." Said Quint, pressing a dagger to the king's throat. "Call off the guards, dukey." Hissed Quint into his ear.
"Guards! Hold!" Said the king, in a voice high with fear.
"Thank you kindly." Quipped Jim with a mocking bow. "Tom, if you would be so kind as to block the entrances?" He asked.
"Sure thing, Jim." Said Tom, detaching himself from the crowd and barring the doors.
"This man, your king, was once a cruel tyrant responsible for the deaths of thousands across what was once his dukedom, before he was exiled by the previous king. He paid tribes of bush dwellers to terrorise the city folk, and is responsible for the first recorded death in the resistance against him on the day we were rescued by Quint... The death of a good leader and greater friend. Matt -" Jim was interrupted by the clash of a tomahawk colliding with a shield as Dart protected his back, turned to the king as he addressed the crowd.
"Wrong move, madman. It was your last as king." Said Quint icily, only to feel himself pulled backwards by a massive hand on his shoulder. "What? Who are -" he began, before being flung across the room to land against the far wall and collapse in a heap on the floor.
"My lad, I don't want to hurt you. Step outside, walk away, and we'll forget all this happened." Said the newcomer, a massively built man wearing a pothelm and full plate armour. The broadaxe slung across the man's back stirred painful memories in Jim's mind.
"It can't be..." He whispered. "You're dead. We saw you die!"
"Guess I was just unlucky enough to live, wasn't I?" Said Matt.
"Not for much longer." Said Dart, drawing his sword. "You betrayed the cause for which you wore the sigil so many years ago. Disloyalty of that kind warrants death."
"I know those laws as well as you, Joseph Tinley. I helped write them, after all." The onlookers muttered in surprise at hearing the mysterious Dart being identified as the high leader of the resistance.
"Draw, so I can cut you down like a man, Matt!"
"Well now, " said Matt, unlimbering his axe and holding it ready, "let's have at you." The moment Matt said the last word, Dart was racing towards him to deliver a massive jump strike aimed at the junction point in his armour by his neck. Seeing what was coming, Matt caught the blow on the head of his axe. Dart, keeping Matt on the back foot, launched a series of furious attacks until finally, a blow found its mark with a dull crunch, and Matt fell to his knees. With a horrible sense of Déjà vu, Jim ran to his side and ignored the cries of his companions to back away. "Matt," he said, "why?"
"Why what, lad? Ain't much to tell. Bush folk were in the pay of the duke, and I found out later they used a paralysing poison on their arrows. It slowed my heart and stopped the bleeding. When I came to, I had one of two choices: Serve, or be tortured. Held out as long as I could, but the longing for fresh air, clean water and a pain free existence became too great. Even now..." Said Matt, gripping Jim's shoulder, "even now, the thought of ensuring my family's safety compels me." As he spoke, Matt drew a dagger from his belt and drove it into Jim's heart, and the heart of the rebellion at the same time. Weeping, Matt pulled Jim into an embrace as Tom sprang forward to finish what Dart had begun, before turning his blade on all nearby in his grief, guilty and innocent alike. As the hall erupted into chaos and people fled through doors they had broken down, the king stood in the center of the hall and wept over the corpses of his brother and nephew, realising that power often brings regret and loneliness rather than fulfillment.
******
And so, we've reached the end of Jim's tale. I hope you guys enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Let me know if you have any ideas for future stories, or just drop me a line if you want to tell me what you thought of the story.
Happy reading!
Rook
Sunday, 3 May 2015
Vengeance: Chapter 5
"My lord, the people have gotten wind of the renegade's challenge, and they grow restless. I suggest my lord provides a response." said the duke's chief advisor.
"Bow to a rebel's demands?" asked the duke incredulously. "Why on Earth would I want to do that?"
"My lord, the people are a fickle beast. We need their willing support if we are to be successful in our... endeavours."
"Huh... Our endeavours, he says." Thought the duke to himself. "What does this halfwit know about my plans?" To the advisor, he said: "Have the criers announce that I will be making a speech in upper lake district at four of the clock today. Inform the guards that any residents who don't attend are to be arrested."
"But, my lord..." Began the advisor.
"One more word, and I will have you strung up for being a rebel sympathiser. Now GO!" Roared the duke in a fury. Just then, the captain of the guard burst into the duke's study.
"Milord, we've found evidence of the rebels using that house as an outpost." he panted. The duke faced him, narrowing his eyes and licking his lips in anticipation.
"Carry on. Where is this evidence you speak of?"
"Milord, about four or five hours by the water clock after you left, some people who appeared to be upper nobility approached the scene, and began searching around for the culprits. Seeing our boot prints, they quickly ran inside. After a few moments, they emerged with large packs on their backs, dressed as travelling merchants. I informed a detachment of the watch, and we apprehended two of the men after incriminating documents were found among their baggage. They await milord's attention in the torture chamber."
"Excellent." Replied the duke with a wolfish smile.
"Bow to a rebel's demands?" asked the duke incredulously. "Why on Earth would I want to do that?"
"My lord, the people are a fickle beast. We need their willing support if we are to be successful in our... endeavours."
"Huh... Our endeavours, he says." Thought the duke to himself. "What does this halfwit know about my plans?" To the advisor, he said: "Have the criers announce that I will be making a speech in upper lake district at four of the clock today. Inform the guards that any residents who don't attend are to be arrested."
"But, my lord..." Began the advisor.
"One more word, and I will have you strung up for being a rebel sympathiser. Now GO!" Roared the duke in a fury. Just then, the captain of the guard burst into the duke's study.
"Milord, we've found evidence of the rebels using that house as an outpost." he panted. The duke faced him, narrowing his eyes and licking his lips in anticipation.
"Carry on. Where is this evidence you speak of?"
"Milord, about four or five hours by the water clock after you left, some people who appeared to be upper nobility approached the scene, and began searching around for the culprits. Seeing our boot prints, they quickly ran inside. After a few moments, they emerged with large packs on their backs, dressed as travelling merchants. I informed a detachment of the watch, and we apprehended two of the men after incriminating documents were found among their baggage. They await milord's attention in the torture chamber."
"Excellent." Replied the duke with a wolfish smile.
******
The duke stood in the torture chamber, taking in the two slumped figures in the center of the room, one still breathing and the other ominously still.
"Who was responsible for searching the prisoners?" He asked quietly, eyeing the small poisoned blade that had been taken out of the dead prisoner's side.
"Please, milord, don't hurt me. That always used to be Johnson's job." Whimpered an underfed man from a bloodied mouth filled with newly broken teeth, testament to the duke's displeasure.
"Who the hell is Johnson?" Swore the duke.
"He was the last gaoler, milord. I'm just an undergaoler who wasn't taught nothing." Said the unfortunate man. The duke walked over to the wall containing the torture implements, and chose a metal studded whip. "Please..." Began the undergaoler, before receiving a lash across his face, blood spraying from his ruined mouth with the force of the blow.
"Be thankful I'm a merciful man, wretch." Said the duke. "I'll only give you ten lashes for your incompetence, and a salt bath besides." The duke, however, was an unpredictable man rather than a merciful one, and carried on with the beating until his arm fell limp to his side, such was the depth of his anger. When he finally stopped, he stooped to listen to the half muttered prayers from the prisoner's mouth. To his surprise, he heard none, he only saw the man's eyes burning with a new desire: Revenge. The duke had no time to react as the man jerked his head up, catching him full in the face and breaking his nose. "You lying filth. I hope they hang you and let the crows eat your eyes!" Said the prisoner in fury.
"Your death will be slow, I promise that." Choked out the duke between the blood clogging his throat and the reflex tears streaming from his eyes.
"The only time your promises mean anything is when you plan on inflicting pain! You're a sadistic tyrant with a blatant disregard for anything but a pursuit for power!" Screamed out the prisoner, no longer caring for his life as he saw the duke advancing, clutching his nose with one hand and a flanged mace in the other. "Justice will prevail!" He managed to say, moments before his skull was crushed and the duke reeled away from his ruined corpse, cursing all the while.
Sunday, 31 August 2014
Vengeance: Chapter 4
"Raconteur," said the king, "this tale of yours is beginning to sound rather familiar."
"Well, my lord, I trained at the famous Crystal Glen bard's college. It's possible you may have heard it from one of my contemporaries." Replied the raconteur with a smile.
"Very well, that could be so. Continue, if you will." The raconteur nodded and resumed his tale.
*****
Jim woke in the morning and stretched luxuriously, yawning and taking in his surroundings, bounding to his feet as he realised he slept through all the watches. "Quint! Quint, why did you let me sleep through my watch?" When no reply was forthcoming, he looked about the campsite once again. There were no signs of a struggle, yet it was eerily quiet. The only sound was the wind blowing through the boughs of neighbouring trees and carrying the same scent of decay as they had found the previous evening. "Oh, God!" Said Jim, running towards the source of the smell, only to find old carrion from a beast's kill. Stepping towards the carcass, he was suddenly jerked upwards through the air by his feet and hit his head against the ground. The last thing he saw as his eyes closed was a large, armoured figure striding through the underbrush and drawing his sword. Then, only darkness.
*****
Quint watched on in mute horror as his companions were captured by the mysterious figure each in their own turn. Quint himself had been captured shortly after the other two had fallen asleep, a strong smelling rag pressed over his nose and mouth, causing him to pass out without a sound. Soon thereafter, he awoke, bound hand and foot to a tree with a rough gag pushed into his mouth, in time to see Tom being pinned to the ground by a man in dark clothing who kept him in a chokehold until he lay as limp as a boned fish. Tom awoke near dawn alongside Quint, bound in a similar manner. Working his gag free, he hissed at their captor: "Aren't you a brave one, taking men down from behind? You'll have hell on your hands when he wakes up." He indicated the sleeping figure of Jim with a jerk of his head.
"In that case," said their captor with a sneer in his voice, "perhaps I had better prepare myself accordingly." As he slipped away into the dawn's half light, they heard a menacing chuckle coming from him which made chills run up their spines. Half an hour later, they saw Jim leaping up, and heard the faint sound of him calling Quint's name in desperation.
"Huh, bastard never even thought of me." Muttered Tom into his beard. Quint grunted, unable to remove his gag because of how tightly it was tied. Within minutes, the mysterious man returned with Jim slung over his shoulder.
"Not so difficult to capture, is your version of hell. Almost makes me wonder why the duke put such a bounty on your heads. But, weren't there four of you?" He asked.
"Piss off, princess." Spat Tom, while Quint sat with a mournful look on his face.
"Ah, " said the man, "Always difficult to leave a companion behind. You have my condolences." Quint gave a grunt as his response, while Tom just glared daggers at the unknown man. He removed his helmet, to reveal a face covered by a dark leather half mask. His eyes, however, were filled with a sadness and compassion which surprised both Tom and Quint. Leaning down, he reached toward Quint and undid his gag while saying: "That would explain why you were so easy to capture. Grief and weariness will be your greatest enemies in your adventures... What exactly are they?" he asked.
"We fight for what is right, and try to empower the people wherever possible. We're trying to rouse the towns against the duke so that they may have their due." Responded Quint in his forthright manner. The unknown man looked surprised at that revelation.
"That's a bold venture for such a small group. You might need an extra hands from someone with likeminded goals to fill up your little party... If you would have me, that is." Quint looked at him with guarded suspicion and began to speak. The words caught in his throat and made him cough, so Tom took that as a cue and launched a tirade: "Listen here, shiny pants. You were ready to hand us over to the duke for nothing but a fat reward. Why should we trust you and take you to the... the... " Tom squinted at the sigil on the man's half plate armour, identifying him as a watch commander from the resistance.
"The..?" prompted the man.
"What's your detachment number and callsign, commander?" Asked Tom.
"I don't - " Began the man.
"Cut the crap! I can see your sigil!" Barked Tom.
"First lieutenant of the watch, forest grove detachment. I returned from a scouting mission to find the base up in flames. Whoever did that will pay, I swear it." He said. Looking up, he continued: "You can call me Dart, by the way."
"Well, Fart..." Began a voice by his feet.
"Dart!" He corrected in fury.
"Whatever. Mind untying us so we can actually get somewhere? I'm commander James Barker of Lake District, along with captain Thomas Rover. Perhaps you've heard of us?" Asked Jim, with a smirk on his face.
"Your sigils..." Began Dart.
"Were confiscated when we were sent to prison. We were expecting a rescue from the forest detachment on our way to the gallows, but only Quint Fellowes, master at arms of Lake District, came to help." Said Tom icily.
"Lucky for us, too." Said Jim. "Otherwise we would be hanging with flies in our mouths. No matter, though. We're free. Or soon will be..." He said with a meaningful look towards his bindings.
"In that case," said their captor with a sneer in his voice, "perhaps I had better prepare myself accordingly." As he slipped away into the dawn's half light, they heard a menacing chuckle coming from him which made chills run up their spines. Half an hour later, they saw Jim leaping up, and heard the faint sound of him calling Quint's name in desperation.
"Huh, bastard never even thought of me." Muttered Tom into his beard. Quint grunted, unable to remove his gag because of how tightly it was tied. Within minutes, the mysterious man returned with Jim slung over his shoulder.
"Not so difficult to capture, is your version of hell. Almost makes me wonder why the duke put such a bounty on your heads. But, weren't there four of you?" He asked.
"Piss off, princess." Spat Tom, while Quint sat with a mournful look on his face.
"Ah, " said the man, "Always difficult to leave a companion behind. You have my condolences." Quint gave a grunt as his response, while Tom just glared daggers at the unknown man. He removed his helmet, to reveal a face covered by a dark leather half mask. His eyes, however, were filled with a sadness and compassion which surprised both Tom and Quint. Leaning down, he reached toward Quint and undid his gag while saying: "That would explain why you were so easy to capture. Grief and weariness will be your greatest enemies in your adventures... What exactly are they?" he asked.
"We fight for what is right, and try to empower the people wherever possible. We're trying to rouse the towns against the duke so that they may have their due." Responded Quint in his forthright manner. The unknown man looked surprised at that revelation.
"That's a bold venture for such a small group. You might need an extra hands from someone with likeminded goals to fill up your little party... If you would have me, that is." Quint looked at him with guarded suspicion and began to speak. The words caught in his throat and made him cough, so Tom took that as a cue and launched a tirade: "Listen here, shiny pants. You were ready to hand us over to the duke for nothing but a fat reward. Why should we trust you and take you to the... the... " Tom squinted at the sigil on the man's half plate armour, identifying him as a watch commander from the resistance.
"The..?" prompted the man.
"What's your detachment number and callsign, commander?" Asked Tom.
"I don't - " Began the man.
"Cut the crap! I can see your sigil!" Barked Tom.
"First lieutenant of the watch, forest grove detachment. I returned from a scouting mission to find the base up in flames. Whoever did that will pay, I swear it." He said. Looking up, he continued: "You can call me Dart, by the way."
"Well, Fart..." Began a voice by his feet.
"Dart!" He corrected in fury.
"Whatever. Mind untying us so we can actually get somewhere? I'm commander James Barker of Lake District, along with captain Thomas Rover. Perhaps you've heard of us?" Asked Jim, with a smirk on his face.
"Your sigils..." Began Dart.
"Were confiscated when we were sent to prison. We were expecting a rescue from the forest detachment on our way to the gallows, but only Quint Fellowes, master at arms of Lake District, came to help." Said Tom icily.
"Lucky for us, too." Said Jim. "Otherwise we would be hanging with flies in our mouths. No matter, though. We're free. Or soon will be..." He said with a meaningful look towards his bindings.
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