Eliminate and Execute #MFRWAuthor

Although I prefer to write tales that end happily, not every character written is so fortunate. I don't know if it is the result of the longer nights of winter or another reason such as dealing with family interactions during the holidays (I'm not saying which) but my characters particularly hate the months of November through January.  

And in a fantasy novel, especially a sword and sorcery, you cannot expect every character to escape unscathed. When you try to eliminate someone and fail, there is a price to be paid.

 

Sometimes combat is offered instead of a trial before the village elders, leaders of the trading house councils, or the dragshi. This option is often selected where the characters are not near civilization or when a warrior's mate is involved. Combat is not necessarily limited to the male characters. To see who this option is offered to, you'll have to read the Windmaster Novels and the Dragshi Chronicles. 

 

As a teaser, a duel from Windmaster Legacy. To set the scene, Ellspeth and Dal are travelling with a caravan. Shonky, one of the herdsmen had propositioned Ellspeth the first night out of Letralia. His advances grew stronger until finally she reported him, however the only punishment meted out was  reassignment to the back of the caravan. When the herdsman continued to raise trouble, including striking Dal's apprentice and insulting Ellspeth, the archmage takes action to eliminate the man's attitude. 

 

Metal clanged on metal. The sound of fast and intense blows and counter blows echoed across the grass. Dal blunted Shonky’s attack and stepped back. Sweat streamed down the teamster’s face and chest, yet only light moisture dampened Dal’s skin. As Shonky shook his head to clear the liquid running into his eyes, Dal waited for his opponent to resume to battle.

On the next round, Shonky’s thrusts slowed and reflected the clumsiness of exhaustion. Like a ship cat toying with its prey, Dal lured the teamster back and forth across the battleground formed by the encircling men. Where his opponent’s moves were meant to cut and maim, Dal used only the flat side of his blade to get his point across. With each stinging blow, the watching herdsmen grew quieter until the only sounds were Shonky’s labored breathing and harsh grunts when Dal’s sword connected in a “lesson.”

“Will you yield?” Dal asked with a light tone. “And apologize to my bride.”

“No,” the caravan worker grated. His sword waved in yet another attack.

Dal’s weapon responded. The edge caught the other man’s blade and rolled around it in a disarming move. Men scrambled out of the way as the weapon flew into the grass.

“Here, Murdo,” Dal called and threw his sword to his friend on the sideline.

The ex-mercenary caught Dal’s tossed weapon and shoved it into its scabbard. “Look out, Dal.”

Dal spun to face the enraged Shonky who, arms outstretched, ran across the trampled grass. Dal ducked beneath the swing. His clenched fist connected with his opponent’s chin with a solid thunk. Before Shonky could hit the ground, Dal threw a second blow into Shonky’s middle. His breath whooshed out in a single gasp and he collapsed to the ground. Dal entwined his fingers in the wide belt around the herdsman’s waist. A jerk pulled Shonky upright.

Open-handed slaps forced the man’s head to the left, and then the right until Shonky’s eyes rolled up in his head. The silence from those watching assured Dal his point had been made. Releasing his grip, he let the herdsman fall to the ground.

 ~ ~ 

~till next time, stay safe. Helen

 

Windmaster Legacy - one click to estores

The Dragshi Chronicles - one click to estores

2021 P : Potioner

 

 

The topic chosen for the letter "P" comes from a character in Imprisoned in Stone. A potion is a liquid with healing, magical, or poisonous properties. The potioner is the man or woman who creates it, and in this case her name is Donnelle.

Donnelle is unprepossessive, with neither riches nor beauty. She is an old woman with straggly gray hair and tattered clothes. Noone knew for sure where she came from, but the story was that as a young woman she lost her husband and child in a ship wreck. Although she survived, she retreated to the farthest distance she could from the water to live in a stone hut on the edge of the Cothrom Desert.

To gather the plants to create her potions, she often took a tent and lived for days in the solitude of the desert, her haunting song drifting over the sands.

Although Donnelle isn't a true mage, she has a special aptitude for plants and capturing their healing abilities in potions. Although capable of killing through her elixirs, she held herself to a higher standard and never traded or bartered anything lethal. Her special ability to determine the purpose of those who requested her assistance made sure she didn't assist assassins -- or the Brethren.

 

To learn her fate when she encounters the Brethren,
read the dark fantasy tale of magic, both good and bad.
Imprisoned in Stone - one click to sale sites

If you're following other blogs in the challenge, here's the master list of the other participants.

To make following the hop easier, here is the link to all my posts. Just remember, the next day's post isn't live until midnight.

~ till next time, Helen

2021 G : Gryphlor

 

One aspect of writing fantasy is to create your own world and everything in it from customs to creatures. In the world of the dragshi, there are the gryphlor. Shading of tawny-beige coloring (which sometimes appears as stripes) provides camouflague in the rocky crags and woods of the mountains that are their domain. 

 

Expert climbers, gryphlor can also be found lounging on tree branches, sunning on rocks, or perched ready to pounce on unsuspecting animal--or person--or passes by. 

 

 

 

 

Dangerous even as a solitary hunter, the grphylor usually hunt in packs making them dangerous even to a shifter in dragon form or to a true dragon. 

To illustrate, an excerpt from First Change: Legends From The Eyrie of a gryphlor attack. 

Yelling and waving his staff to distract the attacking pride, Kedar ran from the protection of the woods. A pair of brown- and tan-shaded gryphlor peeled off and loped through the grass. Their target was obvious—him.

The element of surprise now gone, the full pride, from the gray-muzzled to the youngest kit, rose from concealment in the grass until the dragon faced more than a dozen cats. A shifting circle of brown and tan, they padded around Rioghnach, keeping just beyond the reach of her claws. Kedar suppressed a moan at the realization of the dragon’s plight. Teeth and talons weren’t enough. She needed dragon fire. But every time she sucked down air, a cat leaped so that she could not catch more than a quick draft, never enough to fuel her flame. No matter how hard she tried, the dragon didn’t catch more than an odd piece of fur with her fiery breath.

And I can’t help, Kedar cursed. He needed all his focus to battle the gryphlor stalking him.

A giant paw raked toward his face. The staff blocked the blow, but the force of the collision rocked him from hand to shoulder.

 

The Dragshi Chronicles - one click to estores

 

If you're following other blogs in the challenge, here's the master list of the other participants.

To make following the hop easier, here is the link to all my posts. Just remember, the next day's post isn't live until midnight.

~ till next time, Helen