Thursday, June 19, 2014

Bad Wolf, story stater...

So, what follows is the first little segment I wrote of the novel I'm working on for publication later this year. I wrote this about two years ago, and am just now getting back to it. Lol.


Azariels's head throbbed as he sat up. He felt the warmth of his flesh through the palm of his hand, and knew the light would sting his eyes when he opened them. Still it had to be done.

Pain flared, momentarily, and a small tavern room opened up to him when the lights cleared a little. There had been drink last night, and plenty of it, and now he was sitting on a rough mattress with a wool blanket pooled around his waist. He didn't have to look to know the innkeeper's daughter was laying to his left. She was a young thing, Azariel also knew, between fifteen and seventeen summers, and there would be blood staining the mattress. The elf smiled at this last bit, and wondered just how many virginal notches that made on his belt.

Still, there was a time to make a quiet exit, and that time was vanishing as fast as Sol rising in the sky. He was out of bed, his pants and tunic on when the heavy fists fell on the door.

“Felicia!” The innkeeper called in the gruff and grizzled voice of an old soldier.

Felicia, a dainty redhead, shot up into a sitting position, her wide eyes staring at the door.

“Damn it,” Azariel said.

“Felicia, open this door!” There was no pounding this time but Azariel heard the click as a crossbow was drawn and its bolt set. He checked the catch on his belt, making sure it was secure, and slid both his knives back into their sheathes at his hips. He grabbed his rusted greatsword, a weapon as blunt as the side of a tree and broken down to the length of a longsword, he slid it into the frogs on his back, leaving it open to the world, and started for the window.

“You're leaving?” Felicia said, panic in her voice. The night was coming down around her, no doubt.

“I'm a big fan of not getting shot with a crossbow,” Azariel said. He lifted the window and looked out. They were two stories up, and the nearest building, a little general store, was more than thirty feet away. Straight down was the answer, painful maybe, but necessary.

“We can explain it to him,” Felicia said, her voice pleading, dancing towards hysteria. “We can tell him we're in love!”

Azariel looked back at her for a moment. She was beautiful with skin the color of alabaster, and great big green eyes. Her hair was like the sun setting on the horizon, and had been the thing that attracted him to her in the first place. He considered it, considered staying with her, and decided against it within a period of two seconds.

The door exploded inwards, the knob ripping off and splinters flew in every direction. The innkeeper stepped in, a man six feet tall and built like a dwarf with a beard to match. He leveled the crossbow and fired within heartbeat of the door opening. The bolt whistled through the air. It hit the wood of the window sill hard enough to throw another series of splinters into the air. Azariel stared at it for a moment and the two inches that separated it from his hand.

“No, daddy!” Felicia said. She flung the covers aside and charged her father. “I love him! Please no!”

“I'll kill ya!” the bartender bellowed and yanked the string back on the crossbow faster than anyone Azariel had ever seen.

“Yeah,” he said, and set his foot on the window sill. He ducked his head and kicked. The elf flew, his back and legs straight as an arrow, and his arms out like the feathered fletching. He turned in the air, rolling head over heels, and landed in a crouch. His ankle yelled at the contact, but Azariel was up in short order. Another crossbow bolt struck the ground, kicking up dust.

“I'll kill ya! Ya damned elf!” The bartender said. Azariel glanced back, saw the innkeeper was already loading another bolt. Still the elf couldn't resist himself.

Azariel spun on his heel, sweeping both arms out, and the left back in as he bent at the waist. He flipped his shoulder length blonde hair over the top of his head and made a show of flipping it back. He straightened and locked eyes with the innkeeper. The man had his crossbow leveled and sighted. Still Azariel smiled, a devils grin. He could see Felicia over her father's shoulder. She was tugging on his arm, trying to get him to stop.

“I wish you luck in your endeavor, kind sir,” Azariel said, the devils grin never leaving his face. “My name is Azariel Athendash. Though, I'm unable to face off with you today, I hope you seek me out. I could use a good challenge.”

With that Azariel ducked and spun. He heard the bolt impact where he had just been standing. The barkeep would be loading another bolt by now, but Azariel's legs were swift, and carried him out of the crossbow's range, and around the corner of the general store. He slowed to a walk as he moved towards another cluster of buildings closer to the town wall. He'd stored his gear under one of the two watch towers, and it was time to retrieve it. It was time to move on from this little hovel, time to move on to bigger and better conquests. Maybe a city.

And, there's a bit more too it, but I think I'll post the rest of it elsewhere then here. On Watt Pad or Medium, maybe DeviantArt. Or maybe all three. Anywho, when I do post it, I'll make sure you all have links. And, I hope you all can't wait for the book!!!



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