Today “Take of the Bookworm” blog was kind enough to give me
a guest post today on their site. I get
a chance to talk about my background and my writing. Check it out here at http://talesofabookworm.weebly.com As always, enjoy the read!
Wednesday, July 29, 2015
Tuesday, July 28, 2015
New Excerpt
“And who might you be that the great Gramlick would send
you in his stead?” Mandrean inquired.
“I am General Tathbar, my lord. I am his number two…his
second.”
“I am familiar with the concept of a number two, Tathbar.
You
are insolent as I recall, but Gramlick must see something in
you.
So go ahead, give me the report for the Western province.”
Tathbar swallowed hard and spoke at first with a
high-pitched
voice. “Economically, there have been two years in a row of
poor
harvests. With the Empire counting so heavily on this region
for
food as well as taxes, there has been a deficit in food
production
and money.
“The farmers are being hurt and desperately need help in
subsidies. What’s more, areas of marginal soil, which were
farmed
every other year, have been pressed into service. The result
is soil
depletion and low yields. Our analysts estimate that those
lands
need to lie fallow for a minimum of two years with subsides
paid
to the farmers to assure the land is left to regenerate.”
Though the statement was dry, Mandrean managed to sift
through it and find the implications. “So you’re suggesting
that I
should pay more money to the farmers who are
producing less so
that they don’t have to work as hard?”
Tathbar held up one palm and said, “I think you fail to see
the
bigger picture here, Sire…”
Mandrean began to rage. “I fail nothing. You tell those lazy
peasants that they not only need their normal contribution
this
season but must also pay what they were short from last year.
Their excuses will not be tolerated.”
“With all due respect, My Lord, no order can increase
harvests.
They produce all they can, but they can only reap what the
land
grows. The price of flour is rising and looks to go higher.
Only
drastic action will avoid starvation and migration to the
territory.”
Economics were, in large part, lost on Mandrean. He had no
skill or interest in the field. His rationalizations on the
subject were
often crude and harsh. Even with that being the case, he was
prudent enough to seek council.
“What sort of action do you suggest?” the emperor inquired
as
thoughts of peasant rebellions flashed through his mind.
Tathbar knew his answer would not be liked by his master and
stuttered as he gave it. “Well…we have found…a large grain
reserve in the region that could be dispersed to alleviate
the
situation. Prices would stabilize and the relatively higher
prices
would enable tax payments and field rotation by the
farmers.”
Mandrean listened to what sounded like the perfect solution
and
smiled until his skeptical side began to ponder. “And what
is this
reserve you speak of?”
Tathbar paused and then responded quickly, “The stores the
Legions have amassed over the last few years for the
invasion of
Romadon.”
“Out of the question,” Mandrean fired. “Our forces will need
those supplies for the prolonged offensive.”
“My lord, there is no way to invade any time soon. In the
last
two years, our legions have been depleted by nearly two
divisions.
We are in no condition to attack anyone. The grain
disbursement
would only make use of resources being unused. In two years
we
could be in a position to attack but not now.”
Mandrean was seething. “Two years? What kind of general do
you fashion yourself? And why have you allowed my armies to
erode? Gramlick would never allow this.”
“Sire, we have been hit hard by desertions. Morale is poor,
and
it is due in large part to the terrible defeat in the Valley
of Broken
Soldiers. We lost over a division there from my province
alone.”
“Valley of Broken Soldiers? That area is called Trader’s
Alley.”
“The men, Sire. They renamed it after our defeat at the
hands of
Linvin Grithinshield.”
Mandrean jumped to his feet. His anger blocked the pain it
caused. “Guards.” Four guards surrounded the general and
began
to whip him. The once crisp uniform was quickly torn apart
and
soaked in blood. He covered his face, but there was no
salvation
for the rest of his body.
Once the screams were loud enough and everyone had
witnessed the example, Mandrean waved off the tormenters. He
sat
back into his throne and addressed the crowd.
“For those of you who may have forgotten, that name will not
be spoken in my presence by anyone.” Silence followed.
“Return
this general to his quarters until he is prepared to
apologize.” Two
guards dragged the general away.
Sunday, July 26, 2015
Sunday Excerpt "Crucible"
As the room parted, Necromancer came into view. He moved but
his robe showed no motion from his legs. As he grew near his eyes became a
deeper red and nearly appeared ablaze as he approached the elves. He stopped
directly before the guards in the front of the column.
“Captain,” he ordered. “You and your men may return to your
duties.”
The captain looked puzzled. “I certainly would never disobey
you, My Lord, but we were told these are the most dangerous prisoners we have
ever held. With Lord Mandrean about to begin Court, I would think it would be
wise to stay with them. After all, Lord Mandrean’s protection is the most
important factor.”
“Your concern is noted,” Necromancer answered as anger
swelled in his voice. “There are over a dozen Imperial Guards already stationed
in this room. That is more than sufficient. Your men have other
responsibilities they are neglecting. I suggest they return to them. As for our
Dear Lord Mandrean, I am here. There is no greater protection to be had. You
are dismissed. Pray I do not recall you’re questioning of my orders in the
future. Such a recollection may displease me and be detrimental for you.”
The captain gave the fist salute and said firmly, “By your
leave, My Lord.” He turned on his heal and led the guards from the chamber.
Necromancer smiled a fiendish grin as he approached Linvin.
“I see you have been restored to health. That is good. I may not have use for
you but I will be prepared all the same, Grithinshield.”
He walked over to the twins and looked at them with
contempt. Then he glared at Linvin. “I can see why you loathe them. They are
miserable excuses for elves. To be fair, elves never have impressed me as a
group. These two are particularly under whelming. Had I been you, I would have
eliminated them long ago.”
“They are my kin,” Linvin stated indignantly.
“A fact I am sure you have regretted on more than one
occasion,” remarked Necromancer. “They may be of your blood but you would have
done well to shed it long ago. Your trip would have been far easier. Then
again, I may be giving you too much credit. Perhaps you enjoy having inferiors
around. I personally despise it, but have no choice in the matter. I have no
equal with whom to associate.” He moved on to Anvar. “You certainly draw
a pathetic comparison to me. What is the world coming to when everyone is so
scared of a circus freak like you? An Orange Magician, eh? You are better
served as a sideshow trickster. At least that would earn the slightest respect.
Instead you pass yourself off as a force to be handled with extreme caution.
You could not harm me on your best day.
“There are many here who may fear your tricks. For that
reason I will be clear. I will be removing all your restraints soon. After all,
we do not want the ‘Emperor’s Prisoners’ to be uncomfortable, do we? Then you
will all sit where I tell you and do nothing until called upon. If any of you
make the slightest effort to escape, you will only leave this chamber when your
ashes are swept aside.” He paced before the prisoners with his hands behind his
back. “That means, no swordplay, fisticuffs or that sad thing Anvar Greenlith
calls magic. Remember, you are nothing more than a means to an end for me. Even
at that, you are a backup plan. Your incineration would at worst be an inconvenience
to me. So do not bother convincing yourselves that you are indispensable.”
Necromancer lifted his eyebrows and the shackles on the
party disappeared as though they were never there. Then he pointed to a bench.
“Sit and do not move. You will know when I want you.” As the elves sat where
they were told, Necromancer walked with great anticipation toward the throne.
He turned and stood before the seat to the right of the seat of power and
watched the people take their places.
Saturday, July 25, 2015
Saturday Excerpt, "Quest"
Linvin casually flipped to the final balance line on the
ledger and tried hard not to look impressed.
“Let me start by saying that I do not recall any bad times you had to
endure with my family, but no matter.
When I was a young lad, your bank was rather small, was it not?”
Gredly reluctantly nodded.
“We were not as big as we are today, that is true.”
Linvin looked through some papers on the desk. “Yes, I believe you were the fifth largest
bank in Fraylic out of the six in town when my father began this business. Times certainly have changed.”
Again Gredly nodded.
“We have done well over the years.”
“You are being modest,” Linvin chided. “Your bank is the foremost lending house in
the world. I know for a fact that Valia
obtains loans from you. I imagine many
other countries do as well. You have
become enormously wealthy by lending my family’s money.”
“Such is the nature of banking,” Gredly interjected. He squirmed as though his seat had become
slippery.
Linvin smiled in a wicked fashion. “Look at you.
You are terrified that tomorrow morningI will come to your bank and wish
to withdraw all of my assets, are you not?
The greatest bank in the world would collapse in one day. That is why you are here right now.”
“Is that your intent?
Is that why you brought me over here?” fumed Gredly.
“Well, that depends,” Linvin said while putting his pipe
down.
“On what?” asked Gredly cautiously.
Linvin turned in one quick motion and swept every paper from
his desk onto Gredly. “That depends on
how you explain this mountain of unpaid invoices from vendors. My store and warehouse are half empty and it
is because venders were not being paid in a timely fashion, if at all! We have lost precious suppliers that we may
not get back so that you could hold onto the money due them. Your shortsighted greed would have my company
bankrupt within three years. Where would
your precious deposits be then?”
Gredly had a look of astonishment as he heard the knowledge
Linvin possessed. “Mr. Grithinshield, it
was your father who paid your venders and it is not our responsibility if those
who managed your finances in his stead did so irresponsibly.”
“Do not take me for a fool, Mr. Gredly. Such large payments to venders go from bank
to bank. You sit covered in papers
saying the proper authorization signature is not present to pay this
invoice. Please resubmit. You sat on money due to my company’s vendors,
my company’s friends! Then you have the
gall to blame our bookkeeping? Do you take
me for a fool?”
Gredly bent both knees and folded his hands before him as he
prepared to beg. “Please, Lord
Grithinshield, please forgive our foolishness.
We have wronged your family and your company. Do not let this minor transgression end what
has been a lucrative coupling of your business and ours.”
Wednesday, July 22, 2015
2 Blog Appearances
I have the honor of being on 2 blogs today. The first actually posted yesterday but my
blog was already up. It is an interview on
Michael Scifan’s site. I always try to
make my interviews a little different than the last so it’s not so
repetitive. Its link is http://www.michaelscifan.us/interview-with-rival-gates/
The second one is a permanent posting on Victoria H. Loren’s site of featured authors. The link is http://bit.ly/1OrT0nA
You have to scroll down a bit to find me but I am there with all of my
books. I wish to thank both these author’s
for giving me valuable space on their blogs.
Enjoy the reads!
Tuesday, July 21, 2015
New Excerpt
Anvar was in tremendous pain but still had his wits about
him.
“Officer Acreas, you can put the spear away now. I can walk
very
little, and I have no use of my arms or my magic. It would
be safe
to say that I am not a flight risk at this time.”
“The name is Commander Acreas, if you please,” Acreas
demanded. “I suppose the spear is unnecessary at the moment.
It
was more for show and intimidation. I sense no fear from
you.”
“Why should I fear at this time?” Anvar asked bluntly. “Even
with my advanced healing abilities, my wounds would have
taken
my life if I had not been treated. Not only did I receive
care but I
was fed as well. One does not do those things for someone
they
plan to run through with a spear. Lord Mandrean has other
uses for
me that require me being alive. So let us dispense with the
pointy
objects. I will come without trouble.”
Acreas pulled the spear away. “My research said you were the
logical one in the group. Your logic makes sense to me.”
As they emerged from the jail to enter the courtyard of the
palace, Anvar addressed his escort again. “Research? I am
surprised the Commander of the imperial guard would research
someone like me.”
“Knowing your enemy is the best way to defeat him. I have
studied you and your family for that purpose. I have,
however,
paid particular attention to your nephew Linvin
Grithinshield. His
body of work is immense and required a good deal of
analysis. I
have memorized his background, commerce and battlefield
tactics.
If I could set my hatred of him aside for a moment, I might
actually respect his abilities. Every battle he has fought
has been
against superior forces and every time, he has won. Whether
he
was in Valia, the Territory or the Valley of Broken Soldiers
where
he last fought, Grithinshield has used everything from the
cover of
night to the morning mist and even the geography to his
advantage.
He is a worthy opponent.”
“I had no idea Lord Mandrean’s commander furnished him with
such detailed information,” Anvar noted. “Perhaps it will
help him
in the oncoming fight with Linvin.”
“Help him?” repeated Acreas. “Why in Lavacia would I
ever
want to help my hopeless father?”
Anvar stopped and looked at him in complete surprise. “You
are Lord Mandrean’s son and heir?”
“You are partially right,” Acreas said as he shoved Anvar to
continue his march. “I am his son though my legitimacy is in
question, at least in his eyes.”
Anvar became confused. “If Mandrean is your father, than
why would you not want to help him against his biggest
rival? He
must think something of your abilities to have advanced you
to
such a prestigious position.”
“We loath one another,” Acreas confessed. “For two years
he has sent me into every cauldron of death so that I may
meet my
own but instead I returned again and again victorious. I
earned this
rank just like one day I will earn the chance to be emperor.
Then
Linvin will be my adversary. When that day comes, I
will know
everything about Grithinshield. I will finally be able to
repay him
for this.” Acreas pointed to a long scar above his eye.
“Linvin did that to you?” Anvar asked.
“He did indeed during your flight from Marinhalk. Surely he
mentioned it to you.”
Anvar shook his head. “I do not recall any story about an
encounter with you. Knowing Linvin as I do, if that was your
only
damage then it must not have been much of a fight.”
Acreas’ voice became bitter. “He dispatched me without even
making an effort. Only his expedience to escape allowed me
to
survive. Much has changed since then. I have matured. When
my
day comes, I will know how to handle your nephew.”
Sunday, July 19, 2015
Sunday Excerpt, "Crucible"
As they walked, Bander was the first to question Linvin. “So
what happened after we separated?”
Linvin held the staff like a walking stick as he looked at
the ground and tried to remain humble. “I overpowered the guards in the tower
and descended into the torture room where Hugon was about to end Miri’s
suffering. I surprised him and turned his own whip against him. I kept circling
around and delivering blow upon blow. At one point I even threw salt in his
wounds. Finally, I ran him through with a blazing poker from a fire-pit nearby.”
“Where was Miri during all of this?” Anvar inquired.
“She was chained to a torture rack where she was
simultaneously being stretched at her limbs and stabbed by spikes rising from
the table.”
Anvar shook his head. “So you went back to save her, knowing
every guard in the palace was after you. Then you intentionally took your time
punishing Hugon for his mistreatment of you while the woman you went to save
was suffering and near death. You could have killed Hugon in less time than it
took for me to describe that situation. 166
Because you wanted revenge, she suffered longer and I would
wager you probably had more guards to fight than you would have had if you had
handled your business and left. Am I correct?”
Linvin sighed. He thought for a moment about justifying his
choice of actions but quickly abandoned the notion. It would be better to
accept the critique and move on with the story. “Yes,” he acknowledged. “I
could have killed Hugon more quickly. I was thinking more about making him suffer
than I was about how Miri was suffering. The extra time did allow the guards to
track me down. It was a mistake and I admit to having erred.
“After I freed Miri, some brazen young man stopped me on the
stairs and attempted to prevent my escape. I threw him aside and climbed to the
top floor of the tower. There I found the staff and my Father’s possessions.
With an endless stream of guards climbing behind me, the only way to go was up.
I ascended to the battlements of the tower and was cornered there. Then the
staff and Red Sapphire began to draw toward one another. I inserted the gem in
the staff and a storm of magic appeared around. During the mayhem, the Red
Sapphire told me I could fly. So that is exactly what I did. You know the story
from there.”
“So you talk to the Red Sapphire?” Bander asked with
excitement.
“We do not exactly talk,” Linvin responded. “It is more of a
telepathic connection. The gem is a living being in some ways similar to
Falconfeather.”
“You took unnecessary risks for the sake vengeance,” Anvar
reminded. “Though you came out victorious, you would be wise to note your error
in judgment and not repeat it in the future.” Anvar paused and watched the
sunken expression from his nephew. Then he added. “However, you have
accomplished your goal and I cannot think of another person who could have done
all of 167
that. You have reason for being proud this day. Just do not
let it get the better of you.”
With his story told, Linvin longed to hear from the others.
“So what did you three do after we separated?” Linvin asked.
“We followed your orders,” Anvar stated simply.
Bander, on the other hand, showed no restraint. “It was
amazing.” he exclaimed. “The hole in the wall was right where you told us. So
we snuck through it and were right by the stables of the Imperial Guard. Uncle
Anvar did that fire thing with his hands and all the straw went up in smoke.
Rander and I opened the gate for the horses and the fire sent them running
everywhere. While the guards tried to stop the horses we snuck behind the
barracks and Uncle Anvar torched that too. He was magnificent. The streets
filled with people running everywhere. We ran amongst the crowd and headed for
the outskirts of town. When no one was paying attention, Uncle Anvar would set
another building on fire. Soon there were fires everywhere and we just ran.
“When we reached the messenger stables Rander and me, we
killed two of the guards and the others were cut down by our uncle without
trouble. Then we saddled five horses like you said and scattered the others
from the stable. We rode for our lives. It was really something to see. You
would have been so proud of us, Linvin.”
Saturday, July 18, 2015
Saturday Excerpt, "Quest"
“The name’s Iron Hand.
At least, that’s what I’m called out here. We are the best loggers in all of
Sartan. That’s why we got sent so far
into nowhere to cut these trees. They’re
worth good money, if we can ever get the logs out of here.”
“What’s stopping you?” asked Rander.
“See,” Iron Hand continued.
“We’ve been up here for a while.
The plan was for us to chop the wood.
Then a couple times a month, wagons would come up with supplies for us
and haul away the logs. Problem is,
those Trogos are messing with the plans.
They killed two of my men already and chased off the wagons the last two
times they came. So here we sit, with
our wood rotting and no food except for a few pots of beans.”
“You seem well stocked with drink,” noted Anvar.
Iron Hand looked back at the kegs. “Oh, those,” he said. “Yeah, we provide all the wood for that
distillery to make their barrels. It’s
hard wood to come by and fetches a good price.
They wanted to pay us for it, but we decided to take our money in trade instead. Right, boys?”
The men raised their mugs and cheered.
“So we have lots of wood, lots of drink and we’re stuck out here waiting
to be the Trogos' dinner. The men will hardly
leave the camp anymore.”
“Can you hunt them and rid yourselves of the problem?”
Linvin asked.
Iron Hand took another generous drink and answered, “With
what? It’s pretty hard to hunt with
axes.”
The thought inspired Linvin.
He turned to his relatives and whispered. For several moments the woodmen watched as
the elves talked amongst themselves. At
last, Linvin regarded Iron Hand again.
“Perhaps we can help one another.”
“How’s that?” asked Iron Hand as he sat back.
“Let us rest here and share what food you have,” Linvin
offered. “Once the rain stops, we will
hunt some game with our bows. We will
give some of it to you and your men and we will take some with us for the
road.”
“What about the Trogos?” asked their host.
“If we see any, we will only be too glad to kill them,”
affirmed Linvin.
Iron Hand stroked his beard for a moment. “Well,” he concluded, “we can’t be any worse
off than we are now. You have a deal Mr.
Linvin.” The two parties shook
hands. “But tonight,” continued Iron
Hand, “we drink!” The men cheered the arrangement and gathered around the fire
with their drinks. They indoctrinated
the newcomers to their group with a slew of drunken songs.
Thursday, July 16, 2015
Guest Post
Today the good folks at “The Howling Turtle” were kind
enough to give me a guest post. I wrote
a little piece you might find of interest.
You can check it out at http://howlingturtle-pdx.blogspot.com/
enjoy the read!
Wednesday, July 15, 2015
New Excerpt
The wait was short as a knock came from the door. A voice
followed from the other side. “Sire. It is Fendri. May I
approach?”
“Enter,” Mandrean replied.
A rather plain looking fellow entered the room. He had a
simple
quality, which bespoke of being even tempered. There was
nothing
of note about him physically. Although he wore an outfit
that
clearly placed him as a servant, his threads were laced with
gold
and decorated tastefully with small jewels.
“I see you are taking to the wardrobe I ordered for you,”
Mandrean noted with an approving nod.
“The clothes are most appreciated, my lord. But they seem to
be
a bit much for me. Do they not seem to be too ornate for
your
House Master?”
“They do not,” Mandrean answered. “Your position in this
palace is demanding of respect. You will wear clothing in
that
order.”
“Accept my gratitude once more, lord.”
Mandrean rolled over to the edge of his bed and drew his
power-rod from its resting place. From its far end protruded
the
Blue Sapphire. It was the wicked equal of the Red Sapphire
in
every way. Mandrean was the perfect master to wield the
stone.
His twisted, ambitious personality meshed perfectly with the
mandate of the gem. That mandate was to prove that evil was
stronger than good and that a single person with great power
could
subjugate all.
He spun the rod in his hands. As he stared at the gem, he
asked,
“Are my territorial governors here for our meeting?”
“As you had commanded.”
“Are they waiting in my court?”
“As you commanded, Sire.”
“Excellent, Fendri. Tell them I will arrive shortly and then
wait
for me by my throne.”
Fendri bowed and turned to leave.
“And one more thing,” Mandrean added, “on your way see the
master-at-arms and have four of the top soldiers from the
imperial
guard assigned to guard my quarters, immediately.”
“Of course, my emperor. Shall I have the ones out there now
reassigned?”
Mandrean squeezed the rod. A blue aura surrounded him for a
moment and then passed.
“There are no guards to reassign,” Mandrean said as he
pulled
his feet from the water. Fendri was confused but did not question
his master. He bowed again and opened the door to leave.
As soon as he left the room, he saw two small piles of ash
on
either side of the door. Fendri looked at them curiously at
first. It
seemed strange that he had not noticed them upon his
entrance to
the room. In a moment, his expression turned to horror when
he
realized what the mounds represented.
He cast a frightened look back into the room. Mandrean
gingerly stepped to the door and looked at the ash. “I do
not take
kindly to being anyone’s amusement.”
Fendri swallowed hard and walked briskly away. Mandrean
only smiled and closed the door.
Tuesday, July 14, 2015
Guest Feature
A.B. Funkhauser has done a feature on me and my new book “Mandrean
Revenge” today on her blog. There is an
interview and a lengthy excerpt from the book.
Have a look at it at http://abfunkhauser.com/2015/07/14/back-with-more-author-rival-gates-and-mandrean-revenge/
and enjoy the read!
Sunday, July 12, 2015
Sunday Excerpt, "Crucible"
“Linvin, step forward,” Mandrean ordered. Releasing his
uncle’s hand, Linvin boldly walked into the middle of the map on the floor and
harshly threw the nearby pawns out of the way. He stood with his hands on his
hips and a furious expression on his face.
The emperor observed him for a moment. “Hmmm. Somehow I
thought you would appear more impressive. No matter.”
Mandrean began reading aloud from the scroll. “An assassin
was dispatched to Valia. When he arrived Linvin had already left. He did, however,
learn a great deal about our distinguished guest. After studying with
Sedemihcra for a number of years, Linvin joined the Valian Army. He served with
distinction and advanced through the ranks at an unprecedented rate. The
half-elf Sedemihcra called his Greatest Student Ever became Supreme Commander
of the Combined Armies of Valia.
“For years we had sent armaments to the Swamp Goblins in the
Southern Marshes in hopes of destabilizing Valia. Despite all our efforts
including training their warlords, the man you see before you checked us at
every turn with meager resources. At one point the goblins even managed to lay
siege to the capital, but Grithinshield dealt them a crushing blow with a
minimal force at his command. In all he won over a dozen major battles and
earned the honorary title ‘Defender of Valia’. After winning three startling
victories to completely crush the largest invasion attempt to date,
Grithinshield abandoned his men and resigned his commission.”
Mandrean looked at Linvin in disgust. “You were at the peak
of your power and you quit? It says here King Hardurian even offered to adopt
you as a son and make you his heir. Even then you refused and asked to be
discharged. For a man who is reported to be a genius on the battlefield, you
certainly have no grasp of politics.”
Linvin remained silent in his rage, not seeking to indulge
the inferior man addressing his character. The twins gazed at Linvin in awe.
They’d never fully realized the scope of his accomplishments.
Mandrean continued. “By the way. It says here they just
completed your statue when my man left Valia. It depicts you on horseback with
a sword in one hand and pointing with the other as though you were giving
orders. The statue is on a pedestal in the City Square. The whole thing sounds
a little ostentatious for my taste but I suppose some people need their ego
stroked more than others. Pity you will never see it.”
Turning his eyes to the scroll once again Mandrean read
aloud. “So you left Valia and returned home just prior to my spy’s arrival.
With you back in Fraylic there could be no doubt the staff and key were in
Grithinshield Manor. Linvin established himself at the head of the
Grithinshield commercial empire and entered Society. Even during a gala held at
the estate, our agents could not search the grounds thoroughly. We needed
someone inside.
“It was about that time Linvin moved out and opened a store
in Missandor of Sartan’s Elvin County.
Eventually one of the assassins was hired on to the house
staff at Grithinshield Manor where she began looking for the items. Once they
were located, it was decided his mother must die so as not to alert anyone of
their theft. Without wanting to attract attention, it was decided to slowly
poison her so her death would look natural. In the confusion of her demise it
would be possible to confiscate the items and bring them to me.
“When she finally passed on, however, the staff and key were
gone. Her only visitor since the items were last seen was Anvar Greenlith.
After ransacking his home the assassins followed the next logical link in the
chain. They paid a visit to Missandor to find Linvin Grithinshield. When they
arrived, his tree was unoccupied. Another search ensued and nothing was found.
A local elf mentioned they’d left town heading south and so the team did so as
well. After finding no other reference to their trek to the south they turned
north to the next nearest relative, Caritha Greenlith and her pathetic sons
Bander and Rander.
“They’d guessed right. Linvin and Anvar had indeed gone
there. They recruited the Greenlith boys and set out for the Territory. My
agents once again just missed their query. It was clear from local accounts and
the information the team already knew the quartette was searching for the Red
Sapphire. Necromancer told me one of the uses of the staff was to lead its
owner to the gem. Since I had the prize in my possession it would only be a
matter of time before the staff and key were brought to me. I recalled the
assassins and alerted everyone between here and Sartan of a bounty on
you…alive.”
Saturday, July 11, 2015
Saturday Excerpt, "Quest"
Linvin pointed directly at the area labeled 'AVOID' and
asked, “Are these the Demon Marshes to which you referred?”
Newminor looked and chuckled to himself. “Avoid, how cute. Well, I suppose that gets the point across,
doesn’t it? Those are indeed the Demon
Marshes, and not even the bravest souls dare journey near.”
“What is it that scares you so?” Bander asked innocently.
Newminor smoothly spread his arms apart and corrected the
elf. “Hey! I am not scared of
anything.” He paused for a moment and
looked at the map. His eyes grew large
as he stared at the region. “I simply
see no need to go looking for trouble, and entering that area invites trouble.”
Never one to pick up on subtleties, Bander continued his
probe. “Then what sort of trouble would
one get into if they went there?”
Newminor looked at each member of Linvin’s company in
disbelief. “You know, when I said you
folks were out here without a clue, I was just having fun at your expense, but
you really know nothing about anything outside Sartan, do you?” Before anyone could respond he continued,
“Well, that speaks pretty poorly of your nation. They think they are so powerful and mighty,
yet their own people are ignorant of what lies beyond their borders. How sad.
This probably isn’t even your map, is it? Let me guess, you took it from the goblins and
can’t interpret the symbols. I can’t
believe I even let such a pathetic bunch come to my aid. In the future, I must be more choosey with my
associates.” He strode over to the fire
and tasted the stew cooking. Then he
took a slice of jerkyand lay down on his blanket.
Linvin showed controlled irritation. “My good Newminor, your flagrant insults are
indeed distracting, but you have once again spoken volumes without answering
the question placed before you. So
please relent with the sarcasmand answer my cousin’s question. To this point, you have been amusing, but the
time has come for plain talk. Tell us
about the Demon Marshes or pack your bags and leave.”
Newminor stopped chewing like his jaw had stopped working
and swallowed the meat in his mouth nearly whole. He was surprised and impressed at Linvin’s
ability to control his temper and stay on task.
“Very well, Elf-Man,” Newminor said. “Centuries ago, before the written word and
the nations of our day, there were the Dark Ages. There was no unity among men or elves or
anyone, other than goblins. The savage
beasts prayed fervently to their demon gods, who aided them in the rape of the
world. For an untold number of years,
their madness and destruction reigned supreme.
“Details of their undoing are unknown, as no records were
kept. Legend has it that a climactic
battle took place in a great valley. The
battle raged as the tide shifted back and forth, with the fate of the world at
stake. Despite insurmountable odds, the
goblins and their demon masters were defeated by the narrowest of margins. The remaining goblins were vanquished to the
Goblin Nations in the north and the Great Southern Marshes near Valia. Their masters, however, could not be
killed. They were instead imprisoned in
the Demon Marshes. Their greatest source
of power was said to come from the prayers of those who worshiped them.
“For that reason, the goblins were told by the victors that
their gods had been slain. Separated
from the faithful by mountains and great distance, the demons remained weak in
their watery prison, preying only on the foolhardy that entered their realm.
“It is said that the loss of life in the final battle was so
horrific that the loved ones of the dead wept uncontrollably. Their tears of sorrow united and washed over
the dead but did not allow them to float.
The storm of tears filled the valley and washed away all evidence of the
massacre. It also flooded the prison of
the demon gods and added to their hatred of man and his allies. The body of water created was the Sorrowful
Sea.
“It is also said that, from time to time, a demon will
escape the Marshes for a time and roam the lake, but they are bound to the
marsh and always return. In their stead,
they are rumored to control various sea monsters created from their dead
servants, who roam the sea and do their bidding.
Wednesday, July 8, 2015
I Hate Waiting
There are many things on my pet peeve list. Many of them are common sense: waste, poor
manners, senseless killing, poor sportsmanship and so forth. Other items are more personal: people who use
their horns too much in traffic (like it makes anyone go faster), family
members using up all the data on my phone plan when I don’t get a chance to use
it, people using all the hot water when they know I’m going to take a shower, people
who park over the yellow line and take two parking spaces because they either
are terrible parkers or think their vehicle is more important than anyone else’s,
waiting for rebate checks to be mailed to me, getting rainchecks at the grocery
store and especially waiting for an extended period. Now I’m not talking about a long line at the checkout
counter. I mean really having to wait an
abnormally long time. Let’s take three
examples. So my lawnmower is
broken. It happens. I took it into the repair shop and I’m told
it will be a week. The grass needs to be
cut so I call a service. More on that in
a minute. A week passes and I hear
nothing. I call and the person at the
repair shop says they will call me in the next day or two. They called a week later with an
estimate. They hadn’t even started
working on it yet! I understand being
busy but why tell me 1 week when that wouldn’t even be close? I approve the estimate and they say it will
be ready in 3 days. That was a week
ago. They have now had my mower 3 weeks and
I can’t get hold of anyone to find out if it’s done yet. The lawn mowing company I hired mowed the
lawn the first week. They didn’t do a
great job but it was mowed. The second
week came and I waited…and waited…and for the heck of it, I waited some
more. I am still waiting. Lions could stalk antelope in my grass, it’s that
tall! It has been two weeks since the
last cutting. I called the company but
only get a machine. That’s
frustrating. Yesterday I had two routine
doctor’s appointments 2 ½ hours apart. I
showed up for the first one 15 minutes early and waited. There was no one else in the waiting
room. Then it started to fill up. At least 12 people were crammed in this
little room with me. Then they slowly
started to take the other people back before me. I tried not to be frustrated because I didn’t
have all the information but I couldn’t understand why people waiting less time
went in first. After an hour and a half I
was called back. They took my vitals and
sent me to a second waiting room with everyone else. Finally I saw patients going into and out of
the doctor’s office. I thought I had
planned it so well. I would see this
doctor, get some lunch and have some time to hang out before my second doctor’s
appointment. Now it was 15 minutes before
my other appointment and it took 20 minutes to get there if I hit all the green
lights. So I marched up to the
receptionist and asked how many people were still in front of me. She said 5.
I told her I had to run but I would be back after my other appointment. I made most of the green and yellow lights
and arrived for my second appointment 5 minutes late. That was ok.
After that was over I drove back and waited again at the first place
where they had just passed my name on their list. They finally got me in after another half an
hour. The appointment lasted 5
minutes. There were no apologies or
explanations. What a day. Who would have thought waiting could be so tiring.
Tuesday, July 7, 2015
New Excerpt
A scribe sat in the alcove to record the events of the
meeting.
“The first order of business,” he recited, “is the Lord of
Diplomacy’s report.”
A well-dressed gentleman came forward from the crowd. “My
liege,” he stated with a bow, “there is disturbing news
about the
Unclaimed Territory. With neither Sartan nor the empire
legally
permitted to introduce combat units into the disputed
region, a
potentially volatile trend has emerged. Settlers from the
Kingdoms
of Romadon, Rador, Valia and even the empire have begun
settling
in the fertile region with little to be done about it. Now
that you
have withdrawn our forces from the region, we have no
leverage in
the zone.”
“How is that a concern to the empire?” Mandrean inquired
while accepting a drink from a servant.
“Sire,” stated the lord, “our informants tell us that Valia
for
certain and perhaps each of the others has secretly promised
protection to the settlers as an enticement to move there.”
Mandrean had heard every word but was, after all, a man of
slow wit. Realizing that the significance of the information
was
indeed lost on his master, the lord elaborated.
“Do you not see the implications for us, Sire? If that
prairie is
settled and these nations provide protection, it is an
underhanded
method of claiming the territory. Once the farmers are in
place,
these kings need but only claim that there is a danger to
their
people and send armies to protect them. They would appear to
the
world to be innocent lambs but are in fact preying wolves.
We
would be forced to either accept their annexation of the
region or
fight three powers. The issue must be scrutinized.”
Mandrean grew agitated when the issue was brought into
perspective. “That land should have been ours years ago,” he
insisted. “Are you sure of your facts?”
The lord shuffled his papers and looked away. “We are
certain
that the settlers are squatting and that they are doing so
in
increasing numbers. As for the support guaranteed by the
other
factions, we have one spy’s report from Valia and no
others.”
“So this threat is little more than speculation at
this time, is it
not?”
The lord became less at ease. “Sire, I truly believe that my
concerns are valid on this matter.”
“Fine. Then find out how correct they are, and report back
to
me with something more definite. I am not inclined to
mobilize our
forces without good reason.”
Snickering was heard from the gallery after the statement.
The
sound set the emperor into a tizzy.
“Who laughed?” he yelled. No one spoke. The hall was silent.
“If I find that fool, he will be dead.” Still, no one spoke.
Seeing that his point was made, Mandrean returned his
attention
to is Lord of Diplomacy. “What else have you?”
“Your regional commanders have been briefed on the other
matters, and they will address them in their reports.”
“Then waste no more of my time talking,” Mandrean told him.
The lord returned to his seat.
Sunday, July 5, 2015
Sunday Excerpt, "Crucible"
“How about that plan?” Rander asked impatiently. “Is there
one?”
Linvin surveyed the grand area and answered, “No time to
explain. Just do as I do.” He led his uncle and cousins along the hall toward
the tapestry. Soon they took shelter behind its massive width.
Clanking of armor was heard in great numbers coming from the
far hallway. On the ground floor the guards from the outside stairs entered the
room and were joined by a host of others. They ran with haste toward the great
staircase. Moments later the great double doors to the throne-room blasted open
from the Colorful Magic of Necromancer. Though Linvin’s party was safely
distant, the situation became that much direr.
“This is your plan?” asked Rander. “Hide behind a rug? They
already know we are here and are coming. Can’t you do anything else with that
gem at all? Where’s all the great power we heard about? We are trapped in this
hallway. You have no way out. We are all doomed.”
Linvin paid little attention to the complaints. He
concentrated instead on the progress of the guards coming up the stairs, the
ones emerging from the far hallway and the rapidly growing group from the
throne-room. His gaze shifted around the three approaching enemies as he gauged
their rate of closure. Without breaking his concentration Linvin spoke firmly
to his uncle. “When this is over and we are free, reminded me to beat the life
out of Rander.” Anvar simply nodded in an effort not to affect Linvin’s thought
process.
The guards from below reached the landing on the second
level and were ascending the two side stairways. Guards took up positions at
the two ends of the hall and were slowly advancing from equal distances.
Anvar finally spoke. “I can take out a few but I cannot
channel enough magic for this fight.”
“Save your magic. We will need it soon. Now everyone climb
onto the railing. Use the tapestry to brace yourselves.” His bewildered family
did as they were told and were soon balancing on the rail. “Alright, then.
Follow my lead.” Linvin placed the Red Sapphire in his pocket and stabbed his
short sword through the tapestry. Then he jumped off the railing. The sword
slowed his descent as it sliced through the very fiber of Mandrean bravado.
Following suit, Anvar and the twins dove in a similar manor and slid down the
backside of the wall hanging.
The soldiers on the stairs were in such a hurry to climb the
steps that steel blades sliding down the tapestry went unnoticed. In the hallway
the guards were awestruck by the spectacle and did little more than watch as
their adversary escaped.
Once Linvin and the others reached the ground he led them in
a race for the grand entrance. After they cleared the front of the staircase
all the men could see what became of their foe.
Though only moments passed, the guards on the top took an inordinate amount
of time to cry out the location of Linvin’s band. All eyes turned to see them
crossing the center of the room and nearing the exit. Immediately the soldiers
on the stairs turned and stumbled back down the way they’d come.
It was time for Linvin’s masterstroke. He held up his fist
and the party stopped. Then he turned and regarded the majestic work of art,
which had been formed into a staircase. “Anvar,” he said calmly. “That needs to
be gone…now.” Anvar nodded and stretched forth his hands. Concentrating longer
than they had ever seen him do before, Anvar built up such an aura of orange
magic that a sphere glowed around his body. All at once he released the energy
just as the first guards returned to the second floor landing. The wave of
magic struck the stairs with a thunderclap as they exploded sending stone and
men alike hurtling through the air. Those on the top level were cut off from their
main access to the first floor and Linvin.
Saturday, July 4, 2015
The Author: Thomas Jefferson
Today instead of posting an excerpt as usual, I would like
to pay homage to a most significant yet somehow forgotten author. His name was Thomas Jefferson. Out of the Continental Congress it was
Jefferson who was chosen to draft the Declaration of Independence. Other founding fathers had input on the
document but it was Jefferson who did the heavy lifting. It was not an enviable task. It was his job to articulate the body’s
opinions and then have them critiqued and torn apart by the same body of
men. Imagine how he must have felt,
sitting at his desk for weeks with a quill in hand trying to find the proper words
to say to England that would tell them that the Colonies were rebelling against
their masters. The words had to be
strong yet levelheaded. He didn’t want
to come off sounding like a Virginia farmer but this was no flowery work of Shakespeare
either. Add the expectations of the
congress to the mix and you can see that he had no simple task writing that
sheet of paper. Even under all that
pressure, he created a masterpiece, which has resonated through time. Few documents have ever captured a moment in history
so eloquently. Can you imagine what the response
must have been when this was read in the court of King George III in England? There must have been outrage, to be
sure. Deep down, maybe, just maybe
someone in the room silently found the words stirring or was moved by the impassioned
cry from across the waves. Perhaps that’s
too much to hope for but it must have made an impression. Jefferson did not come by the words entirely
on his own. Other members of the congress
helped in a 5 man committee. As a educated
man, Jefferson read many documents and strung together some crucial ideas along
the way. He believed that all men were
created equal and that they were entitled to life, liberty and the pursuit of
happiness. Those are the ideas that
really stick out in the minds of people when asked about the Declaration of
Independence. Those are the words at the
heart of America. He may not have been
the most prolific writer but at least in this case, Jefferson got it
right. And to think, he did it all
without “spell check.” Bravo Mr.
Jefferson. The congress adopted the
Declaration on July 4, 1776 which formally set the wheels of revolution in
motion. Over two-hundred years later
that author is at the heart of the reason so many of the people reading this
have the day off from work. I guess one
author can make a huge difference in the world.
To my American friends, enjoy the holiday!
Friday, July 3, 2015
Book Promo and Guest Post
The good people at Katie’s Corner Blog were kind enough to
have me do a guest post on their site.
Be sure to read my article about writer’s block. They featured me and my books. Check it out at http://crasyabout.blogspot.com/2015/07/book-promo-guest-post-mandrean-revenge.html
Happy reading!
Wednesday, July 1, 2015
New Excerpt
“No,” cried Necromancer. “What
have you done, Mordane?
This fabric is sacred.” He took
it over by the water basin and
rinsed it. The wine was coming
out, but the wizard was still
panicked.
Meanwhile, Mordane was picking
himself up off the ground.
“What was that all about?” he
asked while confirming all his teeth
had remained intact.
Necromancer made the rag glow
with magic. Steam rose
quickly leaving the material dry
in moments. He held it up to the
light and stared at the very
fibers.
“This is the only remaining piece
of Gallatrium’s cloak. I hope
for your sake you did not ruin
it.”
“Do I know this Gallatrium?”
“You have much to learn, young
one. This is old. It is a story
far older than written records.
It is older than history itself. Long
before the many dark ages when
the world was young, there was a
wise man that had been
particularly blessed by his creator. His
name was Gallatrium and instead
of world power, he chose to be a
simple farmer living with his
family in solitude. He could have
been the greatest man to ever
live but wanted nothing from his
power other than to care for his
family.
“There were no other souls near
his land save for he and his
four children. The one time he
gave into temptation to use his
power for personal gain the
creator took his wife from the world.
Thus, he lived a simple life and
sought neither fame nor adulation.
He chose to protect his offspring
from greed and the world around.
No harm could possibly come to
them on his farm. He gave them
all that any father could give
his children.
“As Gallatrium’s offspring grew
in age, they also grew in
curiosity. Increasingly they
yearned to see what the mysterious
world had to offer. Gallatrium
warned them of the evils they would
find if they were to leave his
house and forbade their departure. He
cautioned that leaving his house
would mean he could no longer
protect and watch over them. The
world was a cruel and deceptive
place for which they were not
prepared.
“His stories only served to raise
the children’s interest. The
outside being forbidden made it
doubly intriguing. And so, one
night the four children of
Gallatrium conspired to leave home in
four separate directions. They
planned to walk until the sun rose
and then return to tell their
father of their adventure.
“At the appointed time, they
noticed that the night had taken on
a strong chill. They donned their
cloaks but did not find them
warm enough for the unseasonably
cold wind. One took his
father’s cloak for it was warmer
than all others. Gallatrium wore it
every day and never felt cold
beneath its surface. Jealousy and
envy overcame the other three
children regarding the garment and
a fight ensued. When they were
finished, their father’s cloak was
torn to shreds on the ground. The
children blamed each other and
soon they neared blows. Vowing to
never want to see the others
again, they set out on their
separate paths. So great was their anger
at the others that they paid no
heed to their path.
“When the sun reached the sky,
they were in an unfamiliar
world of new things to see and
do. By the time they thought of
returning home, they knew not
which way to tread. They searched
in vain. Gallatrium’s farm was forever
lost to them. Each
wandered aimlessly along in the
wicked world. Nearing death,
they stopped searching and
started homes of their own.
“When Gallatrium woke that
morning after they left, he saw
that his children were gone. He
had been hurt as no one could hurt
him. Falling to the floor he
sobbed. His tears flowed onto the cloak
and brought out the handprints of
his young ones.
“By picking up a piece one had
touched, it enabled him to see
the child who had torn that piece
of cloth. Though he could do
nothing to help any of them in
the terrible times that came to pass
in their lives, he still had to
watch as any parent would. To repair
his cloak was as impossible as
repairing the relationship amongst
the children. And so he spent his
days holding these rags and
watching his children in their
successes and failures.
“Without his cloak, the cold
north winds beat on him, and his
body aged. In time, he was a
shadow of his former greatness, held
up in his desolate abode, with
his only comfort being the sight of
his children and their families.”
Mordane had heard every word and
was amazed at the story. “Is
it true?” he asked.
Necromancer nodded solemnly. “By
the time Gallatrium died,
this one piece was all that
remained, and he parted with it only in
his passing.”
“How do you know so much about
this?” Mordane asked.
Necromancer smiled his devilish
smile and answered, “It was I
that took it from him.”
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