Showing posts with label fantasy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label fantasy. Show all posts

Wednesday, December 6, 2017

Flash Stories & Poetry Day 31: Mystery/Fantasy Crossover "Detective Jykk"

 
Hey, everyone.

Sorry this is coming out so late in the day. My uncle came over early today and stayed for three hours and then I needed to work out and then there was dinner and several other distractions. Anyway, I'm here to work now. Also, I'm thinking about launching my career as a poet. What does that mean? Well, if you need a poem written, think about hitting me up. Just leave a comment on this post for now. Eventually, I'll start taking inquiries through my email. I just need to iron out the details. Anyway...

Wheel of Genres, turn, turn, turn! Tell me the genre I will discern!





Today's genre is... Crossover!

What's a crossover? Well, "crossover" is typically a word used in the fan-fiction scene to denote a piece of work that crosses over two or more fandoms. Here, I mean to use it as a method of writing something that had two different genres in it. For instance, Star Wars is actually a sci-fi fantasy crossover and Stephen King's The Gunslinger is a western fantasy crossover.

Problem is, I don't know which two genres to use. So, I'll spin the wheel of genres two more times to get my crossover. First genre is Mystery, and the second is Fantasy. So, a detective story with magic and junk. Alright, let's see what I can come up with.

Thirty minutes on the clock: 30:00. And... go!

Detective Jykk kneeled over the body. He touched the victim's face and said a small incantation. The immediate aura of the spell turned a light blue; the victim had only been dead for a few hours, but it was already stone cold. He lifted the victim's arm to see if he could determine the cause of death, and there stuck in the body's chest was a knife. Jykk moved his hand near the knife and it crackled with purple electricity--he wouldn't be touching that knife until CSI arrived and used the proper disarming charm on it. But there was a bit of luck. Jykk thought that if the murderer had slipped up and used their bare hands to drive in the knife, there might be traces of DNA, or better yet, a magical trace.

Jykk wiggled his fingers and spoke a slow enchantment. Yellow sparkles materialized in the air and shot down to the ground to form a set of footprints. One foot was slightly ahead of the other and had its heel lifted. The attacker had stepped forward to violently drive the knife through the vic's chest, or maybe the attacker had been of a smaller stature. Jykk wiggled his fingers more and blew on the footprints. A trail of gold footprints manifested on the ground. Before following them, the detective cast a quick sealing spell on the body and area to cordon it off.

Jykk trotted after the trail out of the alley. Every so many yards he had to wiggle his fingers and blow again, but the bigger problem was that the footprints were fading fast. Whoever the attacker was, they must have known they might leave a magic trace and did their best to disrupt it.

The trail eventually went cold down another alley. Jykk quickly cast a reveal charm, but no one other than rats were in the alleyway. Before the footprints could disappear, Jykk turned and traced their outline with a bit of chalk. Maybe they could analyze the tracks and get a rough idea on the height and gender of the suspect from the size of the feet and the size of their gait. The detective then started inspecting the alley. He looked for anything suspicious: trap doors, stalls or dumpsters that looked out of place, and even scraps of clothing that might have been torn off the suspect's clothing. None of these were found, but the detective did do a quick scan and found some fingerprints. In order to take a proper sample, he'd have to wait for CSI with a kit, but Jykk went ahead and made a crystalline imprint of the fingerprints. He dropped them into his hand and examined them.

The fingers weren't very long, but they were slender. A slight mark beyond the finger pad seemed to suggest long, well-manicured nails. Jykk went back tot he footprints he traced and found the step of the perpetrator to be shorter and narrower than his own. It seemed likely he was after a woman. Jykk wrapped the crystalline prints a in cloth and pocketed them. He then waved his hand through the air and inhaled deeply. A subtle, violet mist filled the air. The scent of a perfume and pheromones were both magnetized dozens of times. Jykk almost got high off the smell and almost forgot that he was looking for a crook; the more primitive parts of his brain and body had responded immediately.

Jykk covered his nose with a handkerchief and walked back down through the alley. He watched the violet mist to see how it congregated in the air and followed the thickest part of its trail. It led him to a spot next to a dumpster inhabited by a box that looked to be about three feet. Trying to seem disinterested, he went to pass it up, but a fierce scream and an explosion of pheromones wouldn't let him. Within a split second, the suspect, a nimble, slender woman, hooded and cloaked, jumped from the box and attack him, a dagger forming in her hand.

Jykk quick-stepped out of the way and drew his piece. One snap of the trigger and the dagger popped out of the woman's hand, but she kept coming at him, now with fingernails that were magically enhanced. Jykk juked and jived out of the way. The woman took too enthusiastic of a step toward him and ended up passing him. Jykk danced behind her and delivered a forceful blow to the back of her skull with his piece. The woman fell unconscious immediately and hit the ground with a thud and a flutter.

"Now, then," said Jykk. "Let's see who you are." He bound her hands with a spell, and then pulled back her hood. He gasped.

***
 
Alright, stop the clock! Yes, I know I ended at the good part. That was sort of the point so you can complete the story yourselves. That, and it would've forced me to come up with another name, but I've got a headache right now. I'm really tired. I've gotten used to taking naps in the evening because my sleep schedule is so messed up. But anyway, I have 4:20 left (blaze it!), but that was fun. I actually really enjoyed writing the detective parts. It responded to my very technical side and my need to over explain everything. Maybe I should write a real detective story. 
 
But anyway, that's it for today. If you want to use the wheel I made, you should be able to access it here. And if you have the time, please check out my books for sale on Amazon which you can find through my author page. The link is below. Also, I reworked my Patreon page, so why not give it a look and consider becoming my patron. I would appreciate it.

Keep writing, my friends.

More About Bryan C. Laesch:

My Works:

Amazon: My Author Page, My Influencer Page
Facebook: Bryan C. Laesch, Bawdy Scholar
Patreon: Bryan C. Laesch
Twitter: BryanofallTrade
Youtube: Bryan C. Laesch, Bawdy Scholar

Monday, December 4, 2017

Flash Stories & Poetry Day 29: Ballad "The Great Sojourn of Talianus"

 
Hey, everyone.

So, I have nothing funny or clever to say here. Let's just get to the poetry.

Wheel of Genres, turn, turn, turn! Tell me the genre I will discern!







Today's topic is... Ballad. To be honest, did say lyric first, but I couldn't remember what I did for lyrics. I know I did something about a month ago for them, I can't remember what it was. However, then I remembered a little project I'm doing for Heroes of Majestia that I haven't worked on in quite a while. I actually don't suppose I'll get it out until next year, but I would like to work on it. So, this shall be the first part of The Great Sojourn of Talianus.

Thirty minutes on the clock: 30:00. And... go!

Before he became a myth, a legend, a king, and a man,
Talianus was like the rest and began his quest like a lad;
Small was he with a great mane of red hair ere his tale began,
Desiring to be a hero, out he went in tatters clad.

He spoke real big about all the things he was going to do,
And about all the monsters and villains he would crush;
All the treasures he would steal and all the demons he would hew,
And whenever he would come around, all the maidens should blush.

Into the wilds he went, not knowing the legacy he would leave,
And how much the temples and priests he would grieve;
But near a pond outside his village, his first brush with death would come,
And to the charms of a long kelpie he would succumb.

As he tried to tame the beast to be his mount,
He had not the beast's mien taken into account;
Wherefore would such a rare horse meander to pond so calm,
Lest it meant to entrap wanderer and dash into black somme?

Trapped in its mane was he, unable to get free,
That monster tread the water with such glee and wouldn't hear his plea;
Alas, with a great rock, did he revenge himself with,
And he shattered that kelpie's head forthwith.

***
 
Okay, stop the clock. Well, that was rough. It took me most of my half hour and I only got five stanzas. Sorry; I was dragging ass all throughout and I had no idea what I was doing. This is a POS poem, if I'm honest. But, I think it will be all right as a base. It needs a lot of reworking and there are some parts where I can feel the legend isn't so legendary, but this poem helped to point out where those weak spots were. I wouldn't know where those weak spots are if I hadn't written this one. Maybe I should also read a few hero legends to get an idea of what the hell I should be doing.
 
But anyway, that's it for today. If you want to use the wheel I made, you should be able to access it here. And if you have the time, please check out my books for sale on Amazon which you can find through my author page. The link is below. Also, I reworked my Patreon page, so why not give it a look and consider becoming my patron. I would appreciate it.

Keep writing, my friends.

More About Bryan C. Laesch:

My Works:

Amazon: My Author Page, My Influencer Page
Facebook: Bryan C. Laesch, Bawdy Scholar
Patreon: Bryan C. Laesch
Twitter: BryanofallTrade
Youtube: Bryan C. Laesch, Bawdy Scholar

Friday, November 24, 2017

Flash Stories & Poetry Day 19: Fantasy "Travelers"


Hey, everyone.

Well, yesterday was Thanksgiving and it was pretty good for me. I hope it went well for you as well. Before we continue, I must tell you that I injured my finger today, so my typing is a little off.  Excuse any mistakes I make. Anyway, back to business.

Wheel of Genres, turn, turn, turn! Tell me the genre I will discern!





Today's topic is... Fantasy! Hey, how 'bout them apples. I've actually written some fantasy. My book Heroes of Majestia: The Company of Flight is fantasy. I'm also putting together some short stories currently to help fill out the lore, so I am no stranger to fantasy. The trick though is can I tie my a fantasy story in with my high school reunion/days? I know some of you are probably sick of it, but I'm going to go ahead with it. Hmm, maybe I should weekly themes on top of the daily exercises.

Anyway, believe it or not, I totally can tie in my HS days. Here's an idea that's struck me a few days, but I never really thought of developing it. This will be it's trial area.

Thirty minutes on the clock: 30:00. And... go!

Margaret ran through the citadel. She had seen that guy in the hood all over the place. He was following her, but why? And why did she feel like she knew him?

Margaret rounded a corner and almost ran into Anne. "Ah! Anne!"

"Margaret! What're you doing here?"

"I was chasing a man in a hood."

"Was he really tall and wearing a brown cloak?"

"Yeah!"

"He just passed me in the last street."

"Damn! I'll never be able to catch him."

"I don't know about that. That street is a dead end."

The fires of hope were rekindled in Margaret's eyes. "Now's my chance!" she said before running off.

"Wait!" called Anne after her. "He could be dangerous," said Anne, trotting after her.

"If he wanted to kill me, he would've done so already. He's had plenty of chances, and in more than enough of them, he and I were alone together."

"Alone?!"

"Last time I saw him, he looked like he was going to say something to me, but he fled when he saw the Court Mage."

"Master Den?"

Margaret rounded the next brick wall and came to the street Anne had mentioned. The walls on either side of her shot up into the darkness. The stalls on either side of the street were abandoned, the merchants weren't allowed to sell their good and wares at this time of night. That would give the mystery man plenty of hiding places.

Margaret took off down one side, walking behind the stalls. "Check that side, Anne."

Anne tentatively walked over to the other side of the street but stopped. Margaret looked back at her sharply.

"I don't like this," said Anne.

"Then you can leave if you want, but I'm getting my answers and I'm getting them today."

"Or you'll get a knife in the belly."

Margaret hesitated. Her heart beat quickened as she turned and said, "At least I'll have my answers then." She turned back to her path and felt her heart hammer inside her chest. She didn't know what she was saying and she was scared, but to tell someone off just for warning her, that was a new step for her. She couldn't remember a time when she had ever done so before.

"You know," began Anne, "Master Den has been teaching me a few spells. I bet we could lure him out."

"Why didn't you say so earlier?!"

Anne shrugged. "I'm not very good at them, but if it'll stop you from killing yourself, I'll try it."

Margaret walked back to Anne as she began to chant in the middle of the street. The words and syllables she used were foreign to Margaret's ears and occasionally a few sparks or waves of light would manifest from Anne's mouth.

Anne lifted her hand to her mouth as if she was about to cough something up. She became quiet, held her hand out down the street, and then snapped her fingers. The snap echoed, and not just because of the closed in street, but also due to some mystical means. As the sound reverberated against the walls and reverberated back, a screaming could be heard as it grew louder. Suddenly, there was a pop and a flash, and a tall man in brown cloak and hood appeared out of thin air right in the middle of the street.

"Um...?" he said. "Bye!" He started moving toward the back of the street, but Anne shot her other hand forward and issued another word of power. Blue circles shot from her hand and they hit the man, bounding him within them. He fell to the ground.

"Got you, now!" said Margaret triumphantly, standing over him.

"Yes," replied the man.

Margaret's vision blurred for a second. His voice sounded familiar, but she couldn't remember from where.

"Bully for you, Margaret. And well done, Annie."

"Annie?" repeated Anne. "No one's ever called me that before."

"You'd be wrong about that."

"Time to fess up!" said Margaret, striking him in the back. "Who are you and why have you been following me?"

The man struggled to roll over so he could face them. His hood fell off in doing so. Both Margaret and Anne gasped. "Michael!" they said together.

"Yep," said Michael with a sigh. "But I prefer Mike."

"That's so weird!" said Anne. "I suddenly remember you."

"Me, too," said Margaret. "But how?"

"Well, I would've preferred to tell you two under different circumstances, but these are as good a time as any. We are all from a different world."

Margaret and Anne blinked.

"What do you mean?" asked Anne.

"We're not from here. None of us live in the citadel. We're not even from his country! We're from a different world altogether."

Margaret's lip quivered. "I don't believe you!"

"Spoken in denial I see," said Mike. "You both know, deep down, that there's something wrong with this place. That's the reason why it's never felt like home," he said forcefully to Margaret. She jumped. How long had he been following her?

"Where are we from then?" asked Anne.

"I don't know."

"What do you mean you don't know?! You know we don't belong here but you don't know where we're from?!"

"Yes. All I remember is being in a high school hallway, and I remember seeing you two, standing there next to me, right before we were sucked up into a portal of some sort."

Images flashed through both girls' heads. Anne placed a hand on a stall for balance, while Margaret almost hit the pavement. Both saw the same image as if it were a dream, but realer, in their heads of standing next to Mike and being drawn through a black portal. Margaret remembered she'd been wearing her uniform at the time. That's why her clothes were so different and strange when she woke up at the citadel. And when she thought about it, where had those clothes gone?

"I remember..." said Anne, shaking. She closed her fist and the blue rings holding Mike disbanded.

"That's better," he said, standing up. "Glad to see you both have your memories back. Margaret. Annie."

"But," said Annie, "I can't remember where we're from."

"Me, neither," said Margaret. "How did you remember?"

"I used to be one of the castle's servants. I was cleaning the Court Magician's chambers when I knocked over an orb. It hit the ground and I was bathed in a pale blue light. That's when I remembered the portal, and from there I started to remember everything else, but not until I saw everyone first."

"Everyone?" said Margaret.

"That's right. There are more of us here from our world."

Margaret looked off into the distance. Who else did she know from her high school days?

"Why did Master Den's orb give you your memory back?" asked Annie.

"I don't know, but I bet he knows something we don't."

***
 
And that's it. I actually went over time writing that. And before you ask, yes, there was a Margaret, Annie, and Mike in my class at high school. There were a few Mike's, and at least two Anne's, but there was only one Margaret. Anyway, when I started writing that, I was worried it would be too short so some of the intro stuff is filler, but then it ended up being too much. I wanted to get to the point where I implicated the Court Mage is some shady goings-on because otherwise there wouldn't have been a complete story.

But anyway, that's it for today. I hope you enjoyed it. If you want to use the wheel I made, you should be able to access it here. And if you have the time, please check out my books for sale on Amazon which you can find through my author page. The link is below. Also, I reworked my Patreon page, so why not give it a look and consider becoming my patron. I would appreciate it.

Keep writing, my friends.

More About Bryan C. Laesch:

My Works:

Amazon: My Author Page, My Influencer Page
Facebook: Bryan C. Laesch, Bawdy Scholar
Patreon: Bryan C. Laesch
Twitter: BryanofallTrade
Youtube: Bryan C. Laesch, Bawdy Scholar

Saturday, November 18, 2017

Flash Fiction & Poetry Day 13: Fairy Tale "Love Conquers"


Hey, everyone.

Sorry this is going out so late. Saturdays are really not the best days for me to write. Like, I don't even have all that much to do and yet I never get it all done for some reason. Anyway, for today's writing exercise, I'll be using my new fiction genres wheel. So let's see how it goes.

Wheel of Genres, turn, turn, turn! Tell me the genre I will discern!





Today's topic is... Fairy Tale. Phew, that was close. It almost landed on comedy again. But, fairy tale, it's not like I can't come up with one, and I've had ideas for them, I just don't know how to implement them here and now. What's interesting is that according to Wikipedia, fairy tales don't have moral lessons, only fables which is strange because I thought stories like Little Red Riding Hood and Goldilocks and the Three Bears were fairy tales. According to Wikipedia, those are fables (although Wikipedia mentions Little Red Riding Hood in its article of fairy tales).

So, what shall I do here? Three ideas come to mind, two of which I intend of putting down in poetic form and release in a book later. Perhaps I should tell one of them, and perhaps I should tell the "other" since I already told a bit of the first in a poem I wrote a week ago or so. I suppose I shall.

Thirty minutes on the clock: 30:00. And... go!

Once upon a time, in a land far away, there was a man who lived in the country. He lived by himself in a manor and a plot of land that he took care of himself. He worked hard in his garden, he grew his own vegetables, and always took care of the grounds and his house despite being the only one who lived there.

One day, while he was tending to his verge, a great blast of yellow light rose out of the east and darkened the sky. The man knew not what it was, but it terrified him greatly. He prayed that if anyone had been near the yellow light that they were unharmed. After watching it for sometime, he returned to his work.

Later in the afternoon, the light had died down, but the sky was still dark. Suddenly, a woman came along the road. She had a rocky countenance and a strong aura. The man greeted her. "Good afternoon, my lady."

The woman looked at him with a vague perplexion. "Good afternoon," she said curtly.

"What brings you along the road and past my manor?"

"I'm travelling."

"Certain you are, my lady, but what business speeds you so?"

The woman grinned evilly. "I am a powerful sorceress and I intend on destroying your world."

The man stood there and stared at the woman not saying a thing.

The smile disappeared from her face. "Have you no fear of me?"

"I have a great and terrible dread of you, lady. For certain, it was you who cast the horizon light and blackened the sky."

"'Twas."

"Why did you, lady? Why do you want to destroy my world?"

"It offends me. I hate it. Your people are callous and care only for themselves. They care not for the vagabond or wretch lying in the street. I am the just punishment for their sins."

"I see."

After a moment or two, the woman said, "Now, if you'll excuse me, I must get going. I'm going to destroy your world."

"Certain you will, lady, but it is late in the afternoon. Have you had any refreshment since lunch? Would you fancy a cup of tea and a biscuit?"

The woman looked surprised, but said, "I would fancy a cup of tea."

"Then please come into my kitchen and I will fix it for you, and you may have a biscuit whilst you wait."

So the woman and man went into the manor where he served her tea and biscuit with cream and jam. When she was finished she said, "That was delicious, but I'm still going to destroy you world."

"Certain you will, lady, but it is even later in the day and I was thinking of having supper. Won't you join me for some roast chicken and wine?"

The woman looked surprised again, but said, "I shall."

"It will take me some time to cook the chicken," said the man, "but I imagine your journey has been long and hard. Perhaps you would like a bath to cleanse the dust from your skin and relax your mind?"

"I would like that," said the woman.

So, while the man prepared supper, the woman drew herself a bath and bathed. When she was finished, she joined him for supper. When finished, she said, "Your hospitality is quite welcome, but I'm still going to destroy your world."

"For certain you are, lady, but it grows dark now. As powerful as you may be, bandits still patrol the road by night and I'd hate for you to run into them. Perhaps you would like to spend the night in one of my spare rooms?"

The woman looked surprised, but agreed. The man prepared a room and a bed for her, and she spent the night in the manor. In the morning, she rose early and said to the man, "Your bed is soft and your hearth warm. I thank you greatly. But I must get going; I'm going to destroy you world."

"Certain you are, lady, but it is still early and you haven't eaten. Would you fancy a breakfast with some eggs and bacon?"

The woman looked surprised, but agreed. Once she had finished breakfast, she stood, saying, "You never cease to please, but I must get going. I'm going to destroy your world."

"Certain you are, lady, but perhaps you would find a walk about my grounds helpful to your digestion and soothing to your mood?"

"Your land is spotless and roaming; perhaps it would." So the woman stayed and walked the man's grounds till noon. Then she said, "You live in a beautiful country, but I must get going. I'm going to destroy your world."

"Certain you are, lady, but it is now noon. Perhaps you would fancy some lunch?"

The woman looked surprised, but she agreed. When lunch was finished, the woman stood, saying, "You've been very good to me. I may destroy your world, but I may save you."

"I am please to hear you think so highly of me, lady. But I tell you earnestly, I am the way I am because of my world. I wouldn't be who I am without it."

The woman looked confused and didn't say anything.

"Perhaps you would fancy a walk through my garden?" said the man. "I can show you my flower beds."

"I would enjoy that very much," said the woman. And so, the man showed the woman his flower garden until supper, and invited her again to dine with him. She agreed, and then he invited her to spend another night, and she did. And so the cycle continued and the man hosted the woman at his house.

Every morning she woke up to tell him that she was going to destroy his world, and he always responded with "Certain you are, lady," only to suggest another meal or activity to improve her condition. And he did and she did likewise for many years to come. She became a staple of his home and helped him to work his fields and keep the manor clean. With the passing of time, an affection developed and the two were soon married.

On their wedding night, the husband said to his wife, "Shall we go to bed and fulfill our vows?"

"We shall," said the wife. "And as thy wife, I shall forswear my vow to destroy thy world, but tell me truly, why didst thou invite me into thy house despite my ill intention?"

"I pitied thy view of my world and wished to change it, and being no where near as powerful as thee, I was forced to change thee with the good in my heart, so by choosing to show thee love instead of hate, I invoked love from thee and together we now be."

"Truly, I am grateful for now I see that thou could not have become my husband and I thy wife without this world. For long as thou love me, I shall love thyself and thy world."

And so the husband and wife went to bed together, and it was as they said it would be.

The End.

***

Stop the clock! Whew! 39 seconds left. That was close, hence why the ending seems a little half-baked--I was trying to rush it. But that wasn't so bad. Unfortunately, I have to confess that I didn't start writing this after I spun the wheel. I was super tired and I procrastinated for a few hours before I started writing which gave me plenty of time to think about what to write which isn't fair. And like I said, this is an idea I already had, so it wasn't completely original, but despite those little things, I think my fairy tale came out all right.

But, that's it for today. If you want to use the wheel I made, you should be able to access it here. And if you have the time, please check out my books for sale on Amazon which you can find through my author page. The link is below. See you tomorrow.


Keep writing, my friends.

More About Bryan C. Laesch:
Amazon: My Author Page, My Influencer Page
Facebook: Bryan C. Laesch, Bawdy Scholar
Patreon: Bryan C. Laesch
Twitter: BryanofallTrade
Youtube: Bryan C. Laesch, Bawdy Scholar

Thursday, November 9, 2017

Heroes of Majestia: The Company of Flight Excerpt: The Princess of Talian


Chapter III: The Princess of Talian
The climb down through the Razor Crags was easy compared to the morning’s hike through the mountain despite the presence of the jagged rocks. Sometime after noon, they made it to the Tranquil Plains. Talian could be seen in the distance with its castle and city wall built out of alabaster sandstone.
Talian rested on the Tranquil Bay with a white beach separating the castle from the sea. It was a beautiful and stunning sight which helped boost the morale of all in the party except Asina. The nearer they got, the crabbier she became. Her hair became more and more disheveled, her dress had several tears, and she was puffing and wheezing over every rolling hill.
“My father will hear about this!” she threatened as they neared Talian’s border.
“Hear about what, your highness?” Alezar asked.
“Everything! And I’ll make sure he knows what you did!”
“I’m sorry, princess. It was a mist—”
“I don’t believe you! This time, you’ve gone too far.”
Alezar flashed her a worried look, but as he turned back, he leaned over to Daven and whispered, “The king won’t do a damn thing. He’ll love it.”
“Oh?”
“Yes. Don’t know if you lads know, but King Talianus used to be a barbarian adventurer. The Great Sojourn of Talianus is what he calls his career. He wanted to come himself, but the queen wouldn’t let him in case King Jeremy invaded.”
“Really? He sounds awfully humble. How’d his daughter end up like that?”
“Too much of her mother in her as well as being spoiled rotten. Her younger sister though, she’s a very charming young lady.”
“Ah. I had heard that about Talian’s princess. But when we met Asina, I was confused.”
“Aye. Talianus has two daughters. He wanted a dozen sons, but the fates wouldn’t allow it. Them or the queen.”
“Well, I suppose one could say Asina inherited his barbarian fury and her sister inherited his… his… regal qualities?”
Alezar laughed. “Princess Talia inherited his intelligence. Talianus may not have any formal education, but he’s a smart man. And so is Talia. She’s my best student.”
“She knows magic?”
Alezar looked uncomfortable. “In a way… She doesn’t have a penchant for it. But she has learned many other things from me.”
“Hm.” For a while, they were both quite before Daven spoke again. “Princess Talia also inherited her father’s name. Is she his favorite?”
Alezar looked sideways at Daven. “You’re quite perceptive, young master archer.”
“Please, call me Daven.”
“You’re also more polite than the others.”
Daven shrugged. “Sometimes.”
“Hah!”
At that moment, two knights on white chargers approached the group. “Hail, Alezar! And greetings to you, General Cazzo.”
“Hail, Captain Steele.”
“Glad I could be an afterthought for you, Steele. I’m just your superior officer.”
Captain Steele eyed Cazzo before continuing. “Is this the Company of Flight? There are so few,” he said, sounding worried.
“Fret not, Captain. This is merely the vanguard. The rest are coming in a few days.”
“Very well. Shall I call you all a carriage?”
“Yes, dammit!” screamed Asina. “Why haven’t you already done that?”
“Your highness,” said Steele, bowing his head. “I didn’t rec—”
“Shut up and call a coach!”
He inhaled sharply. “As you wish.”
“And get a few horses for us knights,” ordered Cazzo.
Lennox leaned forward to Daven’s ear. “Even her own people find her abrasive.”
“Who wouldn’t?”
Within fifteen minutes, a series of coaches had been summoned along with a few saddled horses for the knights. When everyone was loaded up, Cazzo, Steele, and the knights led the coaches headed into Talian.
As they entered the city, Steele heralded their entry. “Make way and hail! The Princess Asina, Grand Advisor Alezar, and General Cazzo have returned with the Company of Flight!”
People scattered in all directions with curious looks up into the coaches as trumpets blew alerting the rest of the city and the castle. As the coaches passed by, Daven noted that for the most part the people looked worried and frightened. Some of them smiled, hope kindling in their eyes, but most seemed unable to feel it.
“Look at them,” said Flint. “They think they face obliteration.”
“Maybe we shouldn’t have taken this contract,” said Lennox. “We don’t know anything about King Jeremy. They seem to though.”
“Nonsense. If his army bleeds, we can kill them. And if King Jeremy is just a boy, he won’t stand up to us.”
“I wish I had your confidence.”
The coaches pulled up to the castle’s vast porch and front steps while the knights departed back to the barracks. Waiting on the alabaster stairs was the king, the queen, and Princess Talia along with a few attendants. King Talianus was a tall and well-built man for being nearly sixty. He had a shocking red beard and no hair, but did wear a simple gold crown. He had a maniacal smile and wide eyes. His clothes were plain except for a violet cloak and a large sword was sheathed at his hip. The queen wore a simple, but fine green dress and a bejeweled crown on her head with her dark hair tied up.
As Dragon, Asina, and Alezar exited the coaches, Asina threw herself into her mother’s arms. “Mother! You’ll never believe the ordeal I had to go through! First, they made me venture into a stinky cave as a ‘good faith payment.’ Then they took us through a treacherous mountain pass where we were almost attacked by orcs! And father!”
“Yes, sweetheart?” said Talianus, who seemed to be enjoying her plight.
“Alezar destroyed one of the kingdom’s most valuable sedan chairs! On purpose!”
Talianus let out a hearty laugh. “I wish I could have been there! Alezar! You old, daft bastard. You’re always having fun without me!”
“My apologies, m’lord. Unfortunately, it was necessary as—”
“No matter, no matter,” said Talianus, waving his hand. “Who are these strapping blokes?!”
The queen cleared her throat daintily.
“Oh. I mean, please, introduce me to these fine men.”
“Of course, my liege.” Alezar turned to Dragon. “Captain Flint. May I introduce you and your men to his royal highness, King Talianus, his wife, the Queen Asselia, and their younger daughter, Princess Talia.”
Flint hissed to Dragon. “What are you doing, you imbeciles?! Form ranks, form ranks! What are you? New conscripts?”
Dragon tripped over each other trying to organize themselves into lines.
King Talianus let out another hearty laugh. “Never mind, fellows. Never mind. Alezar, please continue.”
“Yes, my liege. Your royal majesties, I introduce to you Captain Flint, Lieutenant Crag, Sergeant Lennox and some of the finest men of Dragon flight of the Company of Flight.”
“Ha! Dragon flight! The specialists!”
“That is your correct, your highness,” answered Flint.
“Yes, my ass is high!” Talianus laughed again.
Asselia cleared her throat again.
“My apologies, dear. Come, Captain Flint. Bring your men. You will all be my guests for dinner tonight.”
“Thank you, my lord.”
As Dragon ascended the alabaster stairs, Daven looked at Princess Talia. She presented an interesting image for a princess: she wore an elegant dress like her sister’s but it was lily white. A plain silver diadem graced her long, red hair. She had brown eyes and a slender body with well-toned musculature and tanned skin that contrasted with her regal apparel. She looked a little younger than Daven, and despite the fact her head was pointed downward with her eyes looking up giving her a demure appearance, her physical appearance as a whole suggested a much more active lifestyle.
Their eyes met and they both seemed to gasp and stand up just a little straighter. They maintained eye contact for a while before the princess turned away.
As they neared the castle gate, Lennox leaned over to Daven. “Mind how your gaze wanders.”
“What?”
“We all saw you staring at her,” translated Adder.
“I was not staring.”
“Yes, you were,” replied Lennox.
“Was not!”
“Relax, kid. It’s no big deal. She’s gorgeous, no contest. Just be careful. Take small glances.”
Daven sighed heavily.
“I know. It’s not fair. Why can’t we appreciate beauty too, regardless of class?”
“Because you’re a pervert with a penchant for bovine pizzles.”
“I do n—! What does ‘penchant’ mean?”
“An affinity for.”
“What does ‘affinity’ mean?”
“We could explain,” suggested Adder, “but it would just be easier to call you an idiot.”
Lennox shook his head. “I’m the damn sergeant of this flight and all I get is mocked.”
“Well stop being an idiot,” said Daven.
Just inside the great oak double doors of the castle was the circular entrance hall. On both sides were curving staircases leading up to a second level with a landing that curved around the entire hall. There were doorways all the way around the second level and one doorway directly in front of them.
The king addressed them. “Gentlemen! Dinner won’t be for a while and if you should feel the need to—,” Talianus stifled a snicker, “freshen up, you may. There is a fine room up these stairs, first hall on your right. The dining room is behind me, and if you need anything before then, my throne room is the center hall up the stairs. I hope you all have an appetite. I can promise you red, hot meat falling off the bone and hearty ale. And lots of it!”
“I can’t wait,” said Lennox.
Everyone in the flight shot him a look.
“Good man!” declared the king. “I hope the sentiment is shared by all, you’re just too tired to express yourselves.”
There were some general murmurs of agreement.
“Excellent! I will send for you when dinner is ready.”
As they ascended the stairs, Daven stole one last glance at Princess Talia who was also looking at him. She quickly averted her gaze.
Down the hall, they found a large bedroom that was well furnished with several large beds, wooden dressers, chairs, a few small tables, and there was a large bath next to the bedroom with several tubs and taps.
Flint dropped his equipment by the closest bed and whipped off his cloak. He clapped his hands together. “Alright, lads. While the king seems to be at great ease with us, I think it highly advisable to bathe before dinner. And if these dressers have any fresh clothes, you should change into them.”
“Yes, Captain!” they responded.
Daven put his quiver, bow, and falchion next to the bed across from Flint’s. As he did so, he noticed an old book lying on the bedside table. “The Lone Warrior? Blimey. I’ve heard of this ballad. It’s supposed to be a classic.”
“What are you mumbling about?” asked Lennox, stripping off his clothes.
“Nothing. Just an old book.”
“You and reading. What have you ever gotten out of a book?”
“Well, some of them are full of violent battles, loose wenches, gods cursing mortals and then being destroyed by their own hubris.”
“Any of that in there?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Then you should use it to wipe your ass. Well. I’m off for a bath.”
“For gods’ sake!” cursed Daven. “Can’t you wait until you’re in the bath before strutting around in the buff?”
“I ain’t showing anything off that no one here hasn’t already seen,” said Lennox.
“Doesn’t mean we enjoy seeing it.”
“Well, you talk so much about pizzles, I thought you might like to see a real one.”
“You mean like the one Brom has?”
“I can’t even cross m’legs,” offered Brom.
“Whatever!”
As Dragon took turns bathing, Daven sat on his bed and began reading. He became so embroiled that Flint had to remind him to bathe and change his clothes. And later, he reluctantly put down The Lone Warrior when a servant arrived telling them supper was ready.
The flight followed the servant down into the great hall where a sumptuous feast had been laid out on an extensive table. Talianus took up the seat at the head while Asselia sat at the other end with Talia and Asina sitting on either side of her. Alezar and Flint sat on either side of Talianus with the rest of the flight filling in whatever spots they wanted. It didn’t matter to the king.
Talianus stood. “Gentlemen! My wife told me  I need to start off with a speech, otherwise I wouldn’t, so I’ll keep this short. It gives me no small pleasure to see you all here tonight and I hope to hear of some of your great battles! I hope this will be the start of a great alliance. Now, tuck in!”
The king sat down and they started eating. There were several kinds of roasted fowl including turkey, pheasant, and quail, spits of pork and lamb, and plenty of beef brisket. There was some bread, butter, and salt, but these were mostly obscured by all the meat and pitchers of a fine honey ale. There was also a dish made from an exotic kind of fish local to the Tranquil Bay called Yellowfin. Adder said it tasted like tuna.
While most of the flight enjoyed the feast, King Talianus kept Flint busy with question after question about the kind of action he had seen. “Have you been in many battles, Captain?”
“Yes, sire. More than I can count.”
“What was the most exciting?”
“Most exciting? Uh… there weren’t any battles I would call exciting. But I was the most anxious during the Battle of Grand River in the Peak Range in the Red Mountains. Mostly because it was my first. I was about… fourteen at the time.”
“Fourteen?! Ha! I was ten when I had my first kill. A troll, it was. A real mean and ugly bastard! Huge, too. He tried to eat me, but instead of chewing, he tried to swallow me whole! That was his fatal mistake as I still had my sword. I bet you can guess what I did with that.”
“I think I can imagine.”
“Ha! Then there was that kelpie when I was fifteen. Tried to drown me. But I hit him so hard with a rock I split its head wide open before it reached the water! Ha!
“I started my barbarian career at thirteen. For twenty years, I raided and pillaged, explored ancient caverns and slew great beasts and Gythraul.”
“Twenty years?!”
“Aye! Twenty years! Eleven out of twelve barbarians fail in their first six months. That is to say they’re killed. Most barbarians also start later than I did. Usually at sixteen. And! And! The average life expectancy of a barbarian… twenty-five years old.”
Flint gasped. “How exciting. The only thing I ever did that could compare is I once shot a Dreadkite.”
“Dreadkite?! You lucky bastard! I’ve always wanted one of their heads on my wall. But, besides being a barbarian, I was also an assassin, mercenary, and thief in my heyday. The second greatest thing I ever stole was this kingdom.”
“What was the first?”
But before the king could answer, a strange figure wandered into the great hall. It carried such a dark aura about it that the torches dimmed and the air became cold. The figure seemed to be a man, but he was clothed in tatters except for a strange headdress that hid his face. The headdress was made from a strange sort of animal hide laid over a skull with a great antlers attached.
“What an outlandish form of dress,” remarked the king. “I quite like it!”
“Talianus,” said Asselia in a worried voice. She and the princesses were the closest to the stranger. “Please do something.”
“Very well.” The king strode over to the far side of the table. “Stranger! I don’t know who you are, but you certainly leave an impression. I’d be happy if you joined us for dinner. There’s plenty for all. But I’m going to have to ask you to remove the antlers. Makes the little women nervous.”
“Makes me nervous, too,” whispered Lennox.
“Yeah, same here,” added Daven. He looked again at Princess Talia and his legs wanted to move in her direction.
The stranger suddenly spoke in a gnarled hiss. “King Talianus. The end is coming for you, your kingdom, and all of your kin. Recant the sins of your ancestors and serve King Jeremy as a faithful slave. Or face obliteration.”
The king appeared to think about this for a second. Then he drew his sword prompting all the guards to lower their lances at the stranger.
“I have considered your proposal and methinks it to be horse shit! Tell your king that he faces heroes and champions here. We will not be intimidated by a child! So he can either face obliteration by the combined forces of the Kingdom of Talian and the Company of Flight, or he can bugger off in peace.”
“Peace…? There will be no peace. Only… destruction!” The stranger lifted his face and through some sort of spell, everyone in the hall saw his fiery red eyes.
Alezar leapt from his chair and raised his staff enclosing the stranger in a blue orb. “Everyone stand back!”
The stranger lifted an urn above his head and smashed it with a rock pouring oil all over himself. “Only destruction.” He produced a red stone that burst into flame engulfing him entirely. “When the Black Moon rises, bows will break, swords will melt, shields will shatter, and you’ll all be sacrificed. Everything dies. Death unites us. The Black Moon calls...” A horrible cackling echoed through the hall still coming from the stranger, but also from everywhere and nowhere.
“Alezar!” commanded Talianus.
Alezar shrunk the orb until it was the size of a marble and when he broke the spell, only a pile of ash remained on the floor.
The great hall was silent for a while until Asina screamed and fainted.
Talianus looked angry. “Someone clean this up now! And take my daughter to her room.”
Two guards attended to Asina while a servant swept up the ashes.
“Alezar?”
The wizard looked thoughtful for a second. “Hold your questions for now, sire. I need to check on the wards around the castle and city.” Alezar exited the hall.
“I think I will also excuse myself for the night,” said Princess Talia, leaving.
Everything became quiet and it wasn’t long after that that dinner came to an unceremonious end. The king had lost his jolly mood for a pensive one, and so Dragon excused themselves back to their room.
***
Deep within the recesses of the castle, Alezar had gotten hold of the ashes of the stranger before they had been disposed of. He went to work in his laboratory preparing a magical mixture in a small, bubbling cauldron that he hoped would reveal something about the stranger.
Princess Talia joined him soon after. “Master?”
“Ah, Talia. Come in.”
“Do you know something?” she asked.
“Possibly. Do you know something?”
“Possibly.”
“You go first,” said Alezar. “It will take me a while to prepare this potion.”
“Well,” began Talia, “in my meditations and card readings, I’ve seen some strange things.”
“What sorts of things?”
“I’m not really sure. In my visions, I see a child with a dark shadow cast over him. And in my readings, the Puppetmaster and Marionette keep appearing. I think King Jeremy isn’t what he appears.”
“Seems that way,” confirmed Alezar. “But let’s check scientifically.”
Alezar added the ash to the potion and waited. The liquid turned a sickly brown before becoming a black sludge. Alezar pulled a wand out of his robes and tapped the cauldron. There was a flash and black smoke rose from the cauldron taking the form of a strange creature. Alezar’s face dropped.
“What is that thing?” asked Talia, feeling chilled.
“A Dark Beast.”
“A Dark Beast?”
“Yes. They have the body, head, and antlers of an elk, a wolf’s claws, a monstrous mouth, and a ferocious attitude. I had believed them all to be extinct. They had only one origin—the dark sorcerer, Lord Zagan. But he’s been dead since the early Second Age. And no one, not even my master, knew how to create them. It required a magic so dark that only Lord Zagan was believed to know how. He was evil incarnate.”
“Do you think King Jeremy and Lord Zagan are connected?”
“Possibly. King Jeremy may have found a way to learn the sorcerer’s tricks. What a young boy though has to have done in his short lifetime to be able to summon such monsters…” Alezar stopped and shivered. “I’d rather not think about it.”
Alezar and Talia were quiet for a while.
Talia asked, “What can we do?”
“I don’t know. But, I did notice some dusty footprints in the great hall that I believe were from the stranger. I collected some of the dust so I can analyze it. It may give us a clue.”
Alezar scooped the dust off his table into his hand and sprinkled it on his crystal ball. He stared into it. When nothing happened, he began to chant in Arcana. Finally, he snapped too and startled Talia.
“Master?”
“Interesting. The dust seems to be a mixture of dwarvish rust, which only occurs on dwarvish steel, and sea salt. Given these two elements, there’s only one location that this hints at.”
“The Ruins of Cu-tor.”
“Correct. But…”
“That isn’t very far from Talian.”
“No, it isn’t. Only about a week’s ride south of here.”
“I thought King Jeremy was supposed to be located in Dunragit.”
“Perhaps he is and Cu-tor is only where the stranger is from.”
“From the ruins?” said Talia incredulously.
“Perhaps he was a prospector or archaeologist,” said Alezar hurriedly. “But exploration of the old tunnels could still yield something.”

“I’ll tell father immediately!”
“Talia, wait! I don’t think it will do much good to tell your father. This isn’t much of a lead. I would personally advise your father against sending any agents to investigate it. He needs all the men he can get. And the time would be better used to bolster Talian’s defenses.”
Talia looked helpless for a second. Then she became determined. “I’ll go.”
“What?!”
“I’ll go. If there’s any chance at all that this can help us defeat King Jeremy, I don’t want to waste it.”
“You don’t know what’s out there though! You could be killed!”
“Better to die looking for a chance to live than to die just waiting for it! Besides, I wasn’t going to sit in my room and wait for the end anyway.”
“It was your father’s plan to send you, Asina, and your mother away.”
“I know. I wasn’t going to do it. I was going to fight in the battle, one way or another.”
“But you’re not a warrior. You have only had preliminary training.”
“Regardless, I can’t turn my back on Talian. I love Talian and its people. I won’t run. I’m going to Cu-tor and you can’t stop me.”
“I know,” surrendered Alezar.
They were quiet for a while. Then as Talia turned to leave, Alezar spoke again. “But, if you are going, you should take some help.”
“Who could possibly help me?”
“Cazzo.”
“I’m not taking Cazzo. His favorite activity is deflowering our temple virgins. How he hasn’t been cursed yet is beyond me. And just imagine what he’ll try with me.”
Alezar thought for a second. Then he looked up. “There is a member among the Company of Flight.”
“The young archer. With the dragon’s head emblem around his neck.”
“That’s a broadhead,” corrected Alezar. “Not an emblem.”
“Huh?”
“Never mind. But, yes. Daven is his name. He seems intelligent. Possibly as intelligent as you. And if he’s a member of Dragon, he must be good in a fight. Try to recruit him.”
“Try? No. He’s coming with me whether he likes it or not.” Talia rushed off to the flight’s quarters.
Alezar sighed. “By the Flow that connects all things, please keep her safe."
***
 
On the magical world of Majestia, the child sorcerer King Jeremy the Wicked threatens to sacrifice the kingdom of Talian to the ominous Black Moon as his prelude to universal conquest. Talia, the princess of Talian, learns through divination that King Jeremy is not all he seems and sets out to discover the secrets behind his evil. To aide her, she enlists the help of the mercenary Daven, a member of the archery corps known as the Company of Flight.

Along the way, they encounter twisted monsters, mad mages, a draconic demigod, and a wacky sorceress. Stumbling their way through adventure, romance, and evil, Daven and Talia forge their legend as they become the first in a new crop of Heroes of Majestia.

Inspired by the works of JRR Tolkien, Terry Pratchett, Glen Cook, and HP Lovecraft, Bryan C. Laesch has created a unique and entertaining fantasy series. A new legend has begun.
 
***

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Tuesday, October 31, 2017

Heroes of Majestia: The Company of Flight Excerpt: Shortcutter Pass


Chapter II: Shortcutter Pass
 
Shortcutter Pass was as it sounded: a path that was carved into the mountain range making travel from any side of the mountain to another much shorter. Unfortunately, it was perilous and narrow with off-season inclement weather and wind throughout. No one was completely certain who made the pass. Some said it was a wizard who used magic to cut his way through the mountain rather than traverse over it, which would have explained the weather.  Others claimed it had been made by a group of orcs who could neither read a map nor use a compass, but were handy with a pickaxe, which explained the pass’ labyrinthian nature.
Either way, it was not a pleasant trip because of the blustery and frigid weather, the large gaps one had to jump across, the jagged rocks that enclosed the pass, the winding and twisting paths that were exceptionally easy to get lost in, and a few dead ends that were simple drops. It was especially unpleasant this time though as Asina absolutely refused to walk the pass demanding to be carried through via sedan chair.
Lennox screamed, “You can’t take a sedan chair through Shortcutter Pass!”
He, Daven, and other members of Dragon were in the armory preparing their equipment.
“Did you tell her she was a mad bitch for even suggesting it?”
“Well, the Captain didn’t say that exactly,” said Crag. “But he is desperately trying to persuade her against it.”
“What a bitch.”
“I’m confused,” said Daven. “I thought I had once heard that the princess of Talian was a very courteous and considerate young lady. But then this brat shows up?”
“Looks like you were fed some bull shit,” replied Lennox. “But seriously, there’s no one in the Company who’s going to carry her ass through the pass. We’re soldiers, not servants. Let those buggers who came with her do it. Hey! One of those lines rhymed.”
“Three coppers say you can’t name which line it was,” said Daven.
“Well,” began Crag, “the Captain is at least trying for that angle. I don’t know how successful he’ll be.”
“Then we’ll leave her here,” suggested Lennox. “Or she can go back with the main forces in a day or two.”
“Yeah,” agreed Adder, another flight member. “And should the Captain fail, when the path narrows, we’ll purposely get the chair stuck and just leave her there.”
Crag sighed. “I wish you guys were just a little more helpful.”
Flint walked into the armory. “Well lads,” he began, “that daft bitch can’t be dissuaded. But at the least, we won’t have to carry her. The five men who came in with them will be forced to do it.”
“Poor buggers,” said Lennox.
“When do we leave, Captain?” Daven asked.
“As soon as possible. We should reach Talian by early morning.”
“Early morning?” Lennox repeated. “You make it sound like we’re going to march through the night.”
“Well…”
“Oh, gods no! Shortcutter Pass is hard enough to manage by day. And the weather worsens at night.”
“I suggest you wear a scarf.”
Lennox seethed.
“Oh, and Lennox. The princess doesn’t like you very much—”
“I wonder why,” commented Daven.
“—so you’ll take point.”
Lennox shook with rage. “Gods… gods dammit!”
Within the next half hour, Dragon flight and the Talian troop were prepared to take Shortcutter Pass. The Talian carriage would be driven back when the rest of the Company made its way to Talian several days later. The sedan chair to be carried by the knights had been secured to the rear of the carriage and amazingly brought through the narrow tunnel the Talians had come through with Alena earlier.
Dragon and the Talians took an unceremonious leave through another underground tunnel leading to the western side of the mountain. Lennox, cursing his fate, led the party and was followed by Daven. Behind him was another seven members of Dragon, followed by the Talians who were escorted more personally by Crag and Flint, and lastly another eight members of Dragon. Being on point, it was Lennox’s duty to lead everyone through the maze of Shortcutter Pass, hopefully taking the most direct route to Talian, and lighting periodic torches to light the way and point out environmental hazards to everyone who followed.
As Lennox exited the tunnel, a biting wind robbed him of his spirit prompting Daven to push him out. Lennox reluctantly led ducking and bracing against the wind while constantly moving his torch around in front of him making sure he could see everything.
After stumbling on several rocks however, he turned to Daven and pushed him ahead. “Light the path around our feet and I’ll light the path around our heads!” he commanded.
“What if I hit my head into something?”
“Don’t worry. I’ll be lighting the path above you.”
“So I only need to worry about you dropping your torch or failing to see an incoming attack?”
“Precisely!”
“Great…”
“With a head like yours, kid, you could make sergeant someday.”
Daven hunched over and kept the path lit for their feet while constantly bumping his shoulder, bow, or quiver into Lennox’s elbow. The going was glacial and several times they had to stop to make sure everyone was still behind them.
Daven and Lennox came to the first fork. Lennox leaned as close as he could to the wall trying to read what had been scratched into it so many years ago when the Company originally mapped the pass.
He turned to Daven. “Which way is Talian?”
“Northwest.”
Lennox examined the wall again before leaning back. “Do either of these look like ‘Northwest’ to you?”
“Gods…” said Daven. “If you were going to use me this much, I should have taken lead.”
“There’s still plenty of time for you to step up. The Captain would love to see such an enterprising young soldier.”
“Eat me.” Daven examined the wall. “This one,” he said finally. “It actually says ‘North,’ but the other says ‘West by Southwest.’”
“It’s good to have young eyes,” said Lennox, lighting a torch just right of the north pathway. He turned to make sure everyone was still coming before ambling down the path.
Several more times they came across forks which required Daven and Lennox to examine the directions carved into the rock and try to decide which way to take. As they did so, they would light a torch or sconce next to that path and it would be the responsibility of the last man to extinguish the torch so they couldn’t be followed.
All that was the least of their worries though as the wind became harsher as the night wore on and the princess’ sedan chair required some clever maneuvering in order to squeeze through some of the narrower parts of the path. It wasn’t long until it inevitably became stuck forcing the princess, whose mood had worsened with time, to abandon it for the cold world. One of the knights wrapped her in a blanket and there was a discussion about what to do. It couldn’t be left there as an obstruction, but Asina was adamant it shouldn’t be destroyed and could be freed if everyone stopped being so thick about it.
“Please listen to reason, your highness,” cooed Alezar. “What good would it do to free it now?”
“It is royal property!” argued Asina, shivering from the cold. “We can’t—we can’t leave it.”
“But—”
“No! I don’t care if you have to use your magic. Free it!”
Alezar looked back at the sedan chair. Sure, a little bit of magic could easily free it. But then, there were the knights to think of. Several times they had tripped or injured themselves carrying it through the crags. And what about the Company of Flight? Would they break a contract if Asina gave them too much trouble?
Alezar looked sideways at the princess before catching sight of Lennox and Daven far ahead everyone else. Alezar clearly saw Lennox say “What a bitch.”
As he was watching Lennox, he got an idea. “Very well, your highness. I will free it.”
Alezar turned back to the sedan chair and theatrically opened his arms. He then paused. “Oh, bollocks! What was that spell again? Oh, I think I remember.” Alezar pointed a finger at the sedan chair and uttered a word of power of Arcana, the language of magic. “Losgi!”
A fireball the size of a man’s skull accelerated from his finger tip and incinerated the chair in seconds.
“Alezar!”
“Oh, damn,” he said, trying to look as sheepish as possible. “That was the wrong one. I’m sorry, your highness. But it appears you will have to continue on foot.”
Asina growled, biting her fist until it bled. Behind her, Lennox was guffawing and slapping Daven on the back. As Alezar caught his eye, Alezar winked. Lennox winked back.
While the chair was now gone and the troop able to move much faster without it, they were still moving slowly through the pass as the weather worsened developing snow and hail. They were forced to deviate from their course and take shelter in a cave just off the path. Asina insisted a tent be built for her so she could have some privacy. The knights did so reluctantly while Dragon started a campfire.
“Quickly eat your supper,” ordered Flint. “Then hurry to bed. We have a lot of ground to cover tomorrow. Lennox, you take first watch.”
“What?!”
“Did I stutter?”
“Come off it, Captain. You’ve been giving me shit since before we left. What’s the deal?”
“My hope is that as you serve others, you may learn some humility and keep your tongue from wagging needlessly.”
“Honestly, Captain,” ventured Daven, “it’s really more his mind you should worry about. If it wasn’t so rotten, you wouldn’t have to worry about his tongue.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” asked Lennox.
“It means you have manure for brains.”
“How? Name one time when I have been less than genius.”
“Well, you remember that time you ate a bovine pizzle and thought it was a sausage?”
This drew laughs from everyone, including Alezar and especially Cazzo and his men.
“I didn’t eat it,” said Lennox, blushing. “I was just…” He gesticulated vaguely, “you know.”
“That makes it sound even worse, you imbecile.”
“How so?”
“Because instead of just being a hungry idiot who nibbled a bovine pizzle, you become the poor dumb bastard who gave a full knob job to a desiccated cow penis!”
Roars of laughter followed.
“Would you kindly shut up!” screamed Asina from inside the tent.
Lennox’s eyes narrowed before he stomped off for the cave’s exit. “You’re next,” he said, passing Daven.
***
In the morning, Daven woke with a start when Lennox kicked him in the ribs. Daven groaned. “What’s your game?”
“Come on. The Captain has ordered me—uh, us—to scout ahead and take point again.”
“Us, huh? Somehow I doubt that. Why don’t you push off and leave me be? Last night was worse for me than it was for you.”
While Lennox had only needed to endure a couple of hours of hail, Daven suffered freezing rain and for an hour longer than he was supposed to. He had at one point passed out from the cold.
“Either you scout with me, or I force you to give a cow penis a knob job. And not a dead one! Now, up!” He kicked Daven again.
“Alright, alright.” Daven rose, packed up his belongings, and followed Lennox out of the cave choking down a bitter apple.
“The Captain wants us to mark the next further routes with chalk,” said Lennox, holding up a piece. “But we’re not to go any further than the Razor Crags.”
“And how far is it to the Crags from here?”
“No idea.”
Lennox and Daven set out examining pass after pass, path after path, drawing a small chalk line next to the path the rest of the flight would take. The ground developed a noticeable decline, and about an hour before noon, they reached the Crags: a terrible labyrinth of sharp and jagged boulders as far as the eye could see. The dangers included falling rocks from the cliffs above, cutting oneself on the rocks, and getting hopelessly lost. And with all the progress made by Daven and Lennox, if they continued to put room between themselves and the others, they would make themselves easier targets to enemies. So they took a rest. All the while, they could hear something in the distance.
“What is that?” asked Daven.
“Voices, I think.”
Daven looked confused. “What species?”
Lennox shrugged. “Orc…?”
Orcs were a brutal and tribal species of humanoid. Generally, they were bigger and more muscular than humans. Usually they were shunned from human societies for their terrifying looks and customs, which gave rise to the belief that they were evil. But their twisted, scarred, and beaten-in looks and brutish customs were the result of not being accepted by the civilized species. Smart, educated, and even attractive orcs did exist and would even have relationships with humans resulting in the crossbreed called Orkans.
Two kinds of orcs existed: mountain and swamp, or in Orcish, Mal-orku and Mos-orku. The only real difference between them was their skin colors and builds. Mountain orcs were typically shades of murky red to brownish grey and quite muscular. Swamp orcs came in tones of green and dark grey, and were more slender.
There was one more type of orc: Cyth-orcs. These were orcs that had allowed themselves to be possessed by the Cythraul, the demons and dark spirits created by the god of evil and darkness, Dyavolat. They had white or black skin, and were capable of all the atrocities that Cythraul and Gythraul, Cythraul incarnate, were capable of.
“Mountain orcs?” suggested Lennox.
“Mal-orku?”
“Look at you. So fancy being able to speak Orcish.”
 Daven ignored him. “Mal-orku don’t come this far down the mountain. They’re awfully close to the plains. A little too close.”
“Indeed.”
Lennox and Daven heard familiar voices and around the corner popped Flint and Crag.
“Sorry it took us so long, boys,” said Flint.
“The princess has been bitching the whole way,” added Crag. “She’s tried several times to get one of the men to carry her.”
“Really? Fascinating,” said Lennox dryly. “We may have company in the crags ahead.”
Flint jumped slightly. “Who?”
“Orcs, possibly,” answered Daven.
Flint turned to Crag. “Tell Alezar and his men to keep quiet, and call up some of the lads.”
As Crag turned back, Flint turned to Daven and Lennox. “Scale these walls and see if you can espy who it is.”
Daven and Lennox rolled their eyes, but did as they were told climbing the rock face behind them and slowly peered over the edge. There was no one to be seen, but there was a trail of black smoke rising out of a circle of rocks.
“A possible campfire about thirty yards away,” reported Daven.
Crag returned with a few more archers and Alezar.
“What’s the problem, Captain?” asked Alezar.
“There’s no problem yet. But we may have some orcs not too far from here.”
“Orcs? They’re awfully far south. Unless… Yes, yes. It’s possible.”
“What’s possible?”
“Ever since King Talianus took his rule, trade between Talian and some shady groups have opened, including a nearby tribe of orcs. The king claims they’re not dangerous, and so far, he’s right. But, it’s possible it’s the same group. They may let us by.”
“It’s also possible they’ll try to kill us without a second thought,” retorted Flint. “Lads, get to the top of the rocks and scout out important targets. Prepare to fire on my command.”
Dragon did as they were ordered, and crept along the rocky ledges as quietly as possible.
“Please, wait,” said Alezar. “Let me talk to them. If they meet with and listen to me, we can avoid needless bloodshed.”
Flint’s eyes narrowed. “Fine. But if you get killed, it’s your fault.”
“So be it.”
Alezar wound his way to the camp, which the flight was now looking down into. It was indeed an orc encampment. There were about ten canvas tents pitched with about twenty or so orcs below. It looked as if they were only starting breakfast.
Flint drew his bow and aimed at what looked like the chieftain. He whispered orders. “Daven, take the one on the right of chieftain. Adder, the guard at the other end of the camp. Crag, the lone soldier over by the rack of weapons. Lennox, hit the one sitting at the feet of the chief.”
“What?” said Lennox. “The one that looks like it has tits?”
“I think those are breasts,” said Daven.
“That’s ridiculous. Orcs can’t have tits. If they did, that would mean there are female orcs. And no such thing exists.”
“How do you know?” asked Adder. “Have you gone around and sexed all the orcs in the world?”
“Yeah, where do baby orcs come from?” added Daven.
“They spring out of the ground,” said Lennox matter-of-factly. “Just like dwarves and goblins.”
“Next, you’ll claim there’s no such thing as male faeries and mermen,” said Crag.
“Well… there aren’t.”
“How do you know?” asked Daven.
“I just do.”
“Shut up, all of you,” hissed Flint. “Yes, Lennox. Take the one with the tits. Now, wait for Alezar. If he looks to be in trouble, don’t hesitate.”
Alezar appeared from around the far corner and knocked his staff against the ground to get the orcs’ attention. “Hail, humble brethren of the mountain! Hail, Chief Malgoth!”
“Who are you?” growled the chief suspiciously.
“It is I, the wizard Alezar. Advisor to his highness King Talianus!”
Chief Malgoth made a strange snort that sounded like a human “Oh.” “Lord Alezar! Hail! What brings you to the High Fells?”
“I was sent by his liege to employ the Company of Flight for the upcoming war with King Jeremy the Wicked.”
“The Company of Flight? The archers?”
“The very same.”
“Cowards. Real soldiers fight with the axe and club.”
“I’d like to see you face a mass cavalry charge from a hundred yards away and not shit yourself,” replied Lennox, under his breath.
“That may be,” admitted Alezar. “I confess I know nothing of physical combat. Regardless, I am under his royal majesty’s command. Do I, my men, and the Company have your blessing to proceed back to Talian?”
“Blessing? Of course. Proceed and leave us be.”
“Thank you, your eminence,” said Alezar, bowing.
Alezar returned back to the passage and was joined by Flint and the others as they leapt down from the ledges. “Do you see, Captain? There was no need for force.”
“Yeah. Thankfully. But still, we have to be careful.”
“Of course,” nodded Alezar.
“Hey, Alezar,” interrupted Lennox. “Perhaps you could settle something for us: who was that orc sitting at Chief Gargle’s feet?”
“Malgoth,” corrected Alezar. “I don’t know, but I am sure that that is the Chief’s current concubine.”
“Concubine?!”
“Yes. What? Are you surprised to hear that orcs can be female? Weren’t the breasts a giveaway?”
“Yeah, I suppose,” said Lennox, rubbing his forehead. “Next, you’ll tell me that there are male faeries and mermen.”
“There are.”
“What?!”
Some members of the flight snickered.
“If you’re through being puerile, can we continue?”
“Yes. Let’s,” said Flint, leading.
Daven leaned over to Lennox and whispered, “You should ask about female goblins and dwarves.”
“Shut. Up.”
Daven, Adder, and Crag burst out laughing.
 
***
 
On the magical world of Majestia, the child sorcerer King Jeremy the Wicked threatens to sacrifice the kingdom of Talian to the ominous Black Moon as his prelude to universal conquest. Talia, the princess of Talian, learns through divination that King Jeremy is not all he seems and sets out to discover the secrets behind his evil. To aide her, she enlists the help of the mercenary Daven, a member of the archery corps known as the Company of Flight.

Along the way, they encounter twisted monsters, mad mages, a draconic demigod, and a wacky sorceress. Stumbling their way through adventure, romance, and evil, Daven and Talia forge their legend as they become the first in a new crop of Heroes of Majestia.

Inspired by the works of JRR Tolkien, Terry Pratchett, Glen Cook, and HP Lovecraft, Bryan C. Laesch has created a unique and entertaining fantasy series. A new legend has begun.
 
***

If you enjoyed this excerpt from Heroes of Majestia: The Company of Flight, you can purchase it here on Amazon. Available in both Kindle and paperback editions.

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