Rival Gates's Blog, page 41
May 23, 2015
Saturday Excerpt, "Quest"
“Newminor,” Linvin repeated. “That is a fine name. Is there a last name to go with it?”
“Newminor is sufficient,” the gnome responded. “There is only one of me in the world, so I need only one name. If the concept is too strenuous for your mind, you can think of me as Newminor the Gnome.”
“So Newminor it shall be,” Linvin asserted. “I believe I have heard all I need to hear, though you certainly have not said all you have to say. With the twilight upon us, we were planning to make camp. Would you care to join us for supper?
You could regale us with your explanation of the exercise to which we have borne witness.”
“I would be delighted,” Newminor answered. He turned and walked over to his small pony near a great boulder and began to rifle through his saddlebags.
The twins approached Linvin and angrily gestured to their new associate. Linvin turned his head and again held out his hand. “Set up camp, boys,” he ordered. With heated discontent, they obeyed their leader while keeping a close watch of Newminor.
As the tents were unpacked, Newminor joined them with a brown jug, capped by a loosely-affixed cork. He rolled out a blanket that he had carried over his shoulder and sat cross-legged on the ground. Removing his shirt and vest revealed the extent of his beating. His sides were badly bruised and covered in blood. Using several rags as dressings, he tended his wounds. His skill with the bandages revealed extensive past experience in the practice.
“Why do they always kick at the ribs?” he questioned as he wound the cloths around his body. “They could hit me anywhere else, but no, they always kick me in the ribs. Gutless cowards! Afraid of a little gnome.”
Anvar had already set the fire before his return in order to avoid questions. Numerous stray sticks were found among the rocks. The wind had most likely blown them across the prairie to their resting place. Anvar then turned his attention to unpacking food for dinner. The twins finished setting the tents and sat across from Newminor with the fire between them.
Linvin sat beside Newminor with such proximity that their knees nearly touched. “So, Mr. Newminor,” Linvin began. “Why were those men attacking you?”
Newminor pulled the cork from the bottle and produced a small shot-glass from his vest. He poured a drink and then handed the bottle to Linvin. “Me, I’m riding along, not harming a blade of grass. Innocent as a newborn calf am I, when along come these three humans. We get to riding for a spell and I suddenly realized that these gents had no sense of humor at all. They seemed to take offence at the slightest comment.”
“I cannot imagine,” Linvin mused as he poured a cup from the jug and passed it to Anvar. “They found your comments insulting?”
Newminor sipped his drink. “Hard to believe, I know, but they let their tempers get the better of them and started the fracas.”
“And what of the label of thief they bestowed upon you?” Rander eagerly questioned.
“I have been called much worse,” Newminor noted. “Try the drink, but sip slowly. To drink too quickly might cause it to bounce.”
Everyone had filled a glass by that point and drank cautiously. The liquor was a harsh blend, never before tasted by the group. Its potency was stronger than any Linvin had tried and made the lumberjack beverage resemble water. The taste was initially a bitter rye whiskey, which finished with a hint of mint.
Linvin’s throat burned as he swallowed the drink. “That’s quite a tonic you have there. What is it?”
“Newminor is sufficient,” the gnome responded. “There is only one of me in the world, so I need only one name. If the concept is too strenuous for your mind, you can think of me as Newminor the Gnome.”
“So Newminor it shall be,” Linvin asserted. “I believe I have heard all I need to hear, though you certainly have not said all you have to say. With the twilight upon us, we were planning to make camp. Would you care to join us for supper?
You could regale us with your explanation of the exercise to which we have borne witness.”
“I would be delighted,” Newminor answered. He turned and walked over to his small pony near a great boulder and began to rifle through his saddlebags.
The twins approached Linvin and angrily gestured to their new associate. Linvin turned his head and again held out his hand. “Set up camp, boys,” he ordered. With heated discontent, they obeyed their leader while keeping a close watch of Newminor.
As the tents were unpacked, Newminor joined them with a brown jug, capped by a loosely-affixed cork. He rolled out a blanket that he had carried over his shoulder and sat cross-legged on the ground. Removing his shirt and vest revealed the extent of his beating. His sides were badly bruised and covered in blood. Using several rags as dressings, he tended his wounds. His skill with the bandages revealed extensive past experience in the practice.
“Why do they always kick at the ribs?” he questioned as he wound the cloths around his body. “They could hit me anywhere else, but no, they always kick me in the ribs. Gutless cowards! Afraid of a little gnome.”
Anvar had already set the fire before his return in order to avoid questions. Numerous stray sticks were found among the rocks. The wind had most likely blown them across the prairie to their resting place. Anvar then turned his attention to unpacking food for dinner. The twins finished setting the tents and sat across from Newminor with the fire between them.
Linvin sat beside Newminor with such proximity that their knees nearly touched. “So, Mr. Newminor,” Linvin began. “Why were those men attacking you?”
Newminor pulled the cork from the bottle and produced a small shot-glass from his vest. He poured a drink and then handed the bottle to Linvin. “Me, I’m riding along, not harming a blade of grass. Innocent as a newborn calf am I, when along come these three humans. We get to riding for a spell and I suddenly realized that these gents had no sense of humor at all. They seemed to take offence at the slightest comment.”
“I cannot imagine,” Linvin mused as he poured a cup from the jug and passed it to Anvar. “They found your comments insulting?”
Newminor sipped his drink. “Hard to believe, I know, but they let their tempers get the better of them and started the fracas.”
“And what of the label of thief they bestowed upon you?” Rander eagerly questioned.
“I have been called much worse,” Newminor noted. “Try the drink, but sip slowly. To drink too quickly might cause it to bounce.”
Everyone had filled a glass by that point and drank cautiously. The liquor was a harsh blend, never before tasted by the group. Its potency was stronger than any Linvin had tried and made the lumberjack beverage resemble water. The taste was initially a bitter rye whiskey, which finished with a hint of mint.
Linvin’s throat burned as he swallowed the drink. “That’s quite a tonic you have there. What is it?”
May 20, 2015
Making the Purchase
As I told you last week, I planned to buy a laptop for my daughter for her high school graduation present. Being who I am I have been researching all the models that fit my criteria at my local store. The problem I ran into was that not all the details of each model were listed on line. Some would say they have a DVD and CD burner while another would just say that it has a DVD burner. I haven’t heard of having one without the other but then again, it doesn’t say it has the feature. Maybe they make ones without CD burners and I just don’t know it. I am going under the assumption that if it doesn’t list it as a feature, it is not on it. Some said they had Bluetooth (again, what for?) and others don’t. I don’t want to get to the store and have a salesman tell me a laptop has all these things and then come to find out it doesn’t. Then certain ones promote specific graphic cards which I suppose are better while others don’t. Some say they have cameras while others don’t mention it. Don’t they all have cameras now? I can’t assume that. Were they the old batteries that ran down fast or the newer lithium-ion batteries? Some said it and some didn’t. I tried my method of listing them out on a piece of paper but it didn’t work. They each listed different components they were bragging about which I assume were unique to their brand. It was impossible to compare. My frustration was at its peak. I had spent hours each night trying to narrow down my choices and was back where I was a week ago. Yesterday I took my wife and went into the store. I asked to see the manager and told him what I wanted, my situation, and that I needed a salesman who knew what they were talking about. I asked what gets returned the most. He pointed them out and I took them off my list. Then I started grilling the salesman. It turns out; all of them do have cameras. The graphics cards are virtually the same in each of the units. They each have DVD/CD burners. The processors are the same. The batteries are all lithium-ion. The screens are the same size. They each had Bluetooth. I narrowed in on one that was on the safe list when my wife said, “This one over here is red and has a red backlight for the keyboard. That’s cool. Then she can type when it’s dark. We should get this one.” There was just one problem. It was one of the models the manager said was returned a lot. So I asked the salivating salesman about the quality of the unit. He said they sell so many of them that of course a few are going to be returned based on the sheer volume. It’s just a percentage. Overall he said it’s a good unit. Then why did his boss tell me to stay away from it? I reasoned with my wife but she agreed with the salesman and we were buying the warranty on it anyway. I asked her 3 times and every time she voted for the red one. I caved. So now I am hoping I am in the percentage of happy customers who have bought this laptop. It’s funny when you think about it. After all my planning and hours reading reviews, the decision came down to a backlight and the color red. I think I try too hard.
May 19, 2015
Building a Fence
My wife has wanted a fence for a long time in our back yard. We have a grand-daughter who is over quite a lot and she brings her dog along. The neighbors’ children also have a habit of running through our yard and it’s quite annoying. After debating this for 3 years and doing some saving we have finally decided to put up a 6 foot privacy fence. We are having plastic fencing put up because my health restricts me from bending and painting that wood requires on occasion. Being the king of research, I solicited bids from 4 companies. Then I chose one and sent the proposal to our HOA for approval. After they signed off I gave the company a deposit and waited. And waited. And waited. It has been over a month that they have had my money and there is no sign of them coming. When I call them I am told there has been too much rain to dig fence post holes. As of today they say it will be at least another 2 weeks. I understand delays but this is ridiculous. I talked to our neighbor who had his fence put in at Christmas time and he said that it was originally planned for fall but there was too much rain. He had to wait months. Let’s hope I don’t have that problem. Where’s all this rain coming from? This is Nebraska, not Seattle. In the meantime, I can’t help but worry that they will drill through my underground sprinklers, or cable wires (they aren’t marked by the city), or build over the property line. It seems like a lot of hassle and expense for such a simple thing. It’s a good thing I have writing to work on to distract me during this time. Even so, every week the frustration mounts.
May 17, 2015
Sunday Excerpt, "Crucible"
Rander approached Linvin, who was searching through shelves of medical supplies. “Where’s Miri?” the leader asked as he read the names on the jars.
“She is coming Linvin. At the moment she is…well…brushing her hair.”
Linvin stopped moving and turned to face his cousin. “She is what?” he said in an ill-favored voice.
“You heard me right,” Rander confirmed. “She is currently brushing her hair with a horse brush. She will be along momentarily.”
Linvin shook his head and mumbled under his breath. Then he returned to his task. “Go over to your brother and pick out your outfits. They will be large on you as they are proportioned for a human but I saw a couple on the smaller side. Then find something to cover your feet and locate a pair of boots that fits. The weather has been forgiving to this point but that will not last long. Dress warmly and find yourself some gloves as well.” Rander joined his brother and began to search for the smallest outfits.
Linvin filled his arms with several earthen jars and a pile of bandages. He turned to set them on a nearby table when the door swung open. All motion in the room stopped, as they feared the worst.
Standing in the doorway with the morning sun surrounding her silhouette was Miri. The light behind her made her glow with the radiance of an angel. Particularly mesmerizing to Linvin was her hair. It flowed effortlessly past her shoulders. Though not perfect, even the loose hairs that would not be tamed created an aura around her in the sun.
“What’s wrong?” Miri asked.
At first, no one could speak. Then Linvin answered, “Nothing is wrong. We have just never seen someone do so much with a horse brush.”
Miri walked confidently over to him and asked, “Does my appearance please you?”
Linvin looked at his cousins whose gaze was fixed on him and answered, “It is fine. Yes. Fine. Um…here. I have two ointments you may find helpful. The first is here.” He opened a large jar, which concealed a brush in its lid. The smell was horrific.
Miri plugged her nose and asked, “What is that terrible stench?”
“It is a suave made from the mearock root. Once I apply it to your back, it will cause puss to excrete from the wounds. I will bandage it. After about a day, all the moisture leaves the medicine and the hardened root flakes away. Your back will heal much better and faster. I have seldom had a chance to use it. The root only grows in the northern climates and is nearly impossible for my company to obtain in trade. It is worth more than gold.”
Miri retained her hand on her nose. “Is there perhaps one that is only worth as much as silver that might smell better?” she asked.
Linvin sighed. “Just lift up the back of your shirt and let me put this on you. If it helps, you can take solace in the fact that your hair is beautiful.”
“Beautiful?” Miri asked as she fished for compliments and lifted the back of her shirt. Linvin wiped her wounds with a thick coat of the ointment and answered, “Well, as beautiful as you can get with a horse brush.” He sliced a cotton shirt in half and pressed it against the mixture. It adhered perfectly and required no wraps. Miri lowered her shirt.
“I feel like a slice of bread covered in marmalade,” she said as she turned around. Perhaps tomorrow I will thank you but for the moment sentiments lean toward repulsion.”
“She is coming Linvin. At the moment she is…well…brushing her hair.”
Linvin stopped moving and turned to face his cousin. “She is what?” he said in an ill-favored voice.
“You heard me right,” Rander confirmed. “She is currently brushing her hair with a horse brush. She will be along momentarily.”
Linvin shook his head and mumbled under his breath. Then he returned to his task. “Go over to your brother and pick out your outfits. They will be large on you as they are proportioned for a human but I saw a couple on the smaller side. Then find something to cover your feet and locate a pair of boots that fits. The weather has been forgiving to this point but that will not last long. Dress warmly and find yourself some gloves as well.” Rander joined his brother and began to search for the smallest outfits.
Linvin filled his arms with several earthen jars and a pile of bandages. He turned to set them on a nearby table when the door swung open. All motion in the room stopped, as they feared the worst.
Standing in the doorway with the morning sun surrounding her silhouette was Miri. The light behind her made her glow with the radiance of an angel. Particularly mesmerizing to Linvin was her hair. It flowed effortlessly past her shoulders. Though not perfect, even the loose hairs that would not be tamed created an aura around her in the sun.
“What’s wrong?” Miri asked.
At first, no one could speak. Then Linvin answered, “Nothing is wrong. We have just never seen someone do so much with a horse brush.”
Miri walked confidently over to him and asked, “Does my appearance please you?”
Linvin looked at his cousins whose gaze was fixed on him and answered, “It is fine. Yes. Fine. Um…here. I have two ointments you may find helpful. The first is here.” He opened a large jar, which concealed a brush in its lid. The smell was horrific.
Miri plugged her nose and asked, “What is that terrible stench?”
“It is a suave made from the mearock root. Once I apply it to your back, it will cause puss to excrete from the wounds. I will bandage it. After about a day, all the moisture leaves the medicine and the hardened root flakes away. Your back will heal much better and faster. I have seldom had a chance to use it. The root only grows in the northern climates and is nearly impossible for my company to obtain in trade. It is worth more than gold.”
Miri retained her hand on her nose. “Is there perhaps one that is only worth as much as silver that might smell better?” she asked.
Linvin sighed. “Just lift up the back of your shirt and let me put this on you. If it helps, you can take solace in the fact that your hair is beautiful.”
“Beautiful?” Miri asked as she fished for compliments and lifted the back of her shirt. Linvin wiped her wounds with a thick coat of the ointment and answered, “Well, as beautiful as you can get with a horse brush.” He sliced a cotton shirt in half and pressed it against the mixture. It adhered perfectly and required no wraps. Miri lowered her shirt.
“I feel like a slice of bread covered in marmalade,” she said as she turned around. Perhaps tomorrow I will thank you but for the moment sentiments lean toward repulsion.”
May 16, 2015
Saturday Excerpt, "Quest"
The gnome spoke first, “I suppose you did make it a touch easier for me to disassociate myself with those ruffians. If your ego be in such need of stroking, then by all means, accept my most gracious and humble thanks.” The gnome placed his hand over his heart and bowed before Linvin.
The sarcastic remark and gesture enraged Rander as he regained his feet. Linvin, however, found entertainment in their new acquaintance. He held his open palm toward Rander in order to withhold his rage.
“Such sincerity in this day is rare, indeed,” Linvin said with tongue-in-cheek. “As long as we are exchanging pleasantries, I believe introductions are in order. My name is Linvin Grithinshield. These two over here are my cousins, Rander Greenlith and Bander Greenlith. The other fine gentlemen is our uncle, Anvar Greenlith.”
The gnome nodded as he followed Linvin’s references. “Rander and Bander, huh?” noted the gnome. “You must have a bunch of older siblings that used up all the good names for your ma to saddle you with those. Not to be mean, but you sound like carnival folk.”
Rander put his face directly across from the gnome and spoke in a loud but shaky tone. “You insult us for no good reason!”
“Now, that isn’t true,” the gnome quipped, as he gently created space between himself and Rander. “I insulted you with good reason. Your names are, for lack of a better word, stupid. Remember, I did say that I wasn’t trying to be mean.” The gnome cocked his head sideways to look around Rander and spy Linvin again. “Bit of a touchy one, this little guy here, aye, Elf-Man?”
Rander panted hard and gnashed his teeth as he stuck his face in front of the gnome once again. His eyes flashed with rage and his fists clenched. The gnome shook his head in disappointment and brushed him aside on his way over to Linvin.
“Please,” the gnome told Rander, “if you were going to make a move, you would have done it already. It’s not your fault, though. Probably nursed too long as a babe. Have cheer, young elf. I have not come near to pointing out your greatest shortcomings.”
Bander stepped between the gnome and Linvin. He, too, was seething, like his brother. The gnome looked at him from one angle and then another. The gnome gently placed his hand on Bander’s shoulder. The elf shrugged it away and brought his fists to bear. The gnome laughed at the overreaction and said, “You poor soul. You must be the best-intentioned elf in the world, but there isn’t a single thought in your sad mass of a head, is there? Well, take heart, big fellow. You are fortunate that your lack of aptitude does not prohibit you from action like your brother.” He proceeded past the bewildered elf.
Linvin stepped forward to meet him with his hand outstretched. “You have spoken many words, my good gnome, but none of them contained your name. Perhaps you would share it with us now?”
The gnome shook Linvin’s hand firmly. “Now that was impressive, Elf-Man. You have an uncanny way of detecting the obvious. My name is Newminor.”
The sarcastic remark and gesture enraged Rander as he regained his feet. Linvin, however, found entertainment in their new acquaintance. He held his open palm toward Rander in order to withhold his rage.
“Such sincerity in this day is rare, indeed,” Linvin said with tongue-in-cheek. “As long as we are exchanging pleasantries, I believe introductions are in order. My name is Linvin Grithinshield. These two over here are my cousins, Rander Greenlith and Bander Greenlith. The other fine gentlemen is our uncle, Anvar Greenlith.”
The gnome nodded as he followed Linvin’s references. “Rander and Bander, huh?” noted the gnome. “You must have a bunch of older siblings that used up all the good names for your ma to saddle you with those. Not to be mean, but you sound like carnival folk.”
Rander put his face directly across from the gnome and spoke in a loud but shaky tone. “You insult us for no good reason!”
“Now, that isn’t true,” the gnome quipped, as he gently created space between himself and Rander. “I insulted you with good reason. Your names are, for lack of a better word, stupid. Remember, I did say that I wasn’t trying to be mean.” The gnome cocked his head sideways to look around Rander and spy Linvin again. “Bit of a touchy one, this little guy here, aye, Elf-Man?”
Rander panted hard and gnashed his teeth as he stuck his face in front of the gnome once again. His eyes flashed with rage and his fists clenched. The gnome shook his head in disappointment and brushed him aside on his way over to Linvin.
“Please,” the gnome told Rander, “if you were going to make a move, you would have done it already. It’s not your fault, though. Probably nursed too long as a babe. Have cheer, young elf. I have not come near to pointing out your greatest shortcomings.”
Bander stepped between the gnome and Linvin. He, too, was seething, like his brother. The gnome looked at him from one angle and then another. The gnome gently placed his hand on Bander’s shoulder. The elf shrugged it away and brought his fists to bear. The gnome laughed at the overreaction and said, “You poor soul. You must be the best-intentioned elf in the world, but there isn’t a single thought in your sad mass of a head, is there? Well, take heart, big fellow. You are fortunate that your lack of aptitude does not prohibit you from action like your brother.” He proceeded past the bewildered elf.
Linvin stepped forward to meet him with his hand outstretched. “You have spoken many words, my good gnome, but none of them contained your name. Perhaps you would share it with us now?”
The gnome shook Linvin’s hand firmly. “Now that was impressive, Elf-Man. You have an uncanny way of detecting the obvious. My name is Newminor.”
May 13, 2015
Buying a Laptop
My family is very supportive of my writing. That being said, I can say with near certainty that my children do not read my blog. Perhaps if I talked about music or movie icons they might give it a look but for the most part they have no interest in the blog. It is for that reason that I feel comfortable writing about my daughter who is graduating high school in less than two weeks. It seems like just yesterday that she was an obstinate little girl lying in the doorway of her room coloring at 2AM screaming, “You told me to go to my room and I’m in my room. You can’t make me sleep!” She was a handful as a child. I am happy to report that she mellowed quite a bit with age and has grown into a fine and honorable young lady. I am so proud. Her next phase of life is college and her mother and I decided in today’s era she needs a laptop. So that is what we are getting her for graduation. Sounds easy, doesn’t it? I haven’t owned a laptop in 13 years and it would seem the features have changed. I asked around to people I knew who had children go through college and received all sorts of advice. Here is what I have discovered on my fact finding mission. First of all, I want 1 laptop that will last 4 years without becoming too outdated to be useful. I do not want the 17 inch screen because it is cumbersome in the classrooms. It is better to go with the 15 inch screen. I must buy a carrying bag or else it will fall out of normal book bags. Then came the issue of RAM. One person with a little older daughter said 4G of RAM saw her through all 4 years. That was several years ago, however. Computer years are like dog years. If that was 3 years ago, that’s like 21 computer years. Technology becomes outdated that fast. Another situation had a person buying a 4G RAM computer for their son who is in their third year of school. They are having problems with some programs not running on it. That tells me I need more RAM. I’ve settled on 8G. That should give me breathing room for 4 years. Then comes the processor speed. I’m a little in the dark on this one but I do know the faster the processor, the better it runs programs. I have looked on line at hundreds of computers and can’t determine a happy medium. What’s worse, no one seems to be able to tell me more than I know already. I might be at the mercy of the salesman on that one. Then there’s options. I want the DVD/CD burner in case she needs to make presentations. Does she need a camera? What about blue tooth? Actually, what’s the point of blue tooth on a laptop anyway? I have to buy the warranty because I have used mine 18 times already just for viruses and problems in just over a year. It’s comprehensive service. The last factor is cost. Every option raises the price a little more. In the end I usually go overboard but I wish I didn’t feel like this computer stuff was like reading a foreign language in which I only know every third word.
May 12, 2015
New Edits
If I were a baker I would love baking the cake from scratch. It is the decorating and finishing I would find tedious. I adore writing books. It is the most fun thing in the world to me. Editing is not. I have the manuscript for my third book, “Mandrean Revenge” (I get excited just saying the name.) It is now time to edit. You would think after so much writing I wouldn’t have many corrections but I would be wrong in that thinking. Perhaps it’s good to have so many errors found. That means fewer were missed and it wouldn’t need to be re-edited like the first books. On the other hand, some of these “corrections” are simply wrong. For example, the name of the gem IS the Red Sapphire. That’s not a description. It’s a title. Likewise, its counterpart is the Blue Sapphire. They need to be capitalized. The editor unknowingly took the capitals out of the entire book. That’s a lot of fixing on my part. To be fair though, most of the corrections needed are my fault. It’s not easy to see your work pulled apart but it makes you a better writer. Constructive criticism is a very effective learning tool. This editor seems civil and that makes the whole process much easier to handle when someone is basically insulting your baby. (See previous blogs on the subject) So in my spare time I will be sifting through the edits and correcting what is needed. What’s important is that when I’m done, my third book will be ready to publish. The hairs on my neck stand on end just thinking about it. Until then I will decorate my cake and take the time to do it right, even though I just want it to be iced and done. Time to get back to it.
May 10, 2015
Sunday Excerpt, "Crucible"
Mandrean could finally understand Fendri’s reluctance to speak. His words cut deeply. “You think Linvin could beat me in combat? How can you hold such an opinion? You have seen me in battle and watched me dispatch many foes. All you know of Linvin is talk. He is no different than any other man. Your position shocks and displeases me to great measures.”
Fendri could retain pretenses no longer. He vented his frustration by throwing the empty serving tray across the room. “You wanted truth, didn’t you?” he asked as he brought his face directly across from Mandrean’s. “Here it is for you. As I have said, your hand has not touched a sword in nearly ten years. You are at least as many years Grithinshield’s senior and have done nothing to keep your body in condition for battle. Meanwhile, your opponent is highly experienced and motivated. He is said to be the greatest warrior alive. Even if that proves to be an exaggeration, you cannot beat him in a fair fight.”
Mandrean gently pushed him back to a more comfortable distance and stated. “Your lack of faith in me is disappointing. Do not fear, Old Friend. I never said it would be a fair fight. According to my plan, I will only finish the life of our hunted game after the huntsmen have brought him down. You should have more faith in me. I am no fool.”
As if on cue, the great door swung open and an army of tailors and servants entered the room. The Lead Tailor observed the scene and commented. “Are we too early? We could return later if breakfast is not over.”
Mandrean addressed the tailor, though he was looking most angrily at Fendri. “Your timing is fine. We are done here. Are we not, Lord Fendri?”
Fendri nodded and said, “I will remove these trays and leave you to your packing, My Master.” Fendri bowed and left with the trays.
Mandrean led the entourage to his room where they began sorting through his closet. Like a child’s doll Mandrean stood in his undergarments in the center of the room as different outfits were placed on his body. Then the tailors would critique the look and ultimately change him into something different.
Fendri could retain pretenses no longer. He vented his frustration by throwing the empty serving tray across the room. “You wanted truth, didn’t you?” he asked as he brought his face directly across from Mandrean’s. “Here it is for you. As I have said, your hand has not touched a sword in nearly ten years. You are at least as many years Grithinshield’s senior and have done nothing to keep your body in condition for battle. Meanwhile, your opponent is highly experienced and motivated. He is said to be the greatest warrior alive. Even if that proves to be an exaggeration, you cannot beat him in a fair fight.”
Mandrean gently pushed him back to a more comfortable distance and stated. “Your lack of faith in me is disappointing. Do not fear, Old Friend. I never said it would be a fair fight. According to my plan, I will only finish the life of our hunted game after the huntsmen have brought him down. You should have more faith in me. I am no fool.”
As if on cue, the great door swung open and an army of tailors and servants entered the room. The Lead Tailor observed the scene and commented. “Are we too early? We could return later if breakfast is not over.”
Mandrean addressed the tailor, though he was looking most angrily at Fendri. “Your timing is fine. We are done here. Are we not, Lord Fendri?”
Fendri nodded and said, “I will remove these trays and leave you to your packing, My Master.” Fendri bowed and left with the trays.
Mandrean led the entourage to his room where they began sorting through his closet. Like a child’s doll Mandrean stood in his undergarments in the center of the room as different outfits were placed on his body. Then the tailors would critique the look and ultimately change him into something different.
May 9, 2015
Saturday Excerpt, "Quest"
Even as gnomes go, the one before them was not particularly grand. He was shorter than Rander, but as thick as Bander. Though not husky and rotund like dwarfs, gnomes were quite strong for their size. They had a low center of gravity and powerful arms and legs. In spite of those strengths, they were far more likely to talk their way out of a fight than to actually partake. A rare breed to be sure, they were seldom found so far south and usually traveled in large groups. To find one gnome in the middle of the territory was an oddity, even to the naive elves.
The gnome did not wear the traditional pointed beard of his people. He was clean-shaven and gave the impression of putting great stock in his appearance. Though certainly not inferring wealth, his clothes were, nonetheless, well-tailored. Colored entirely in blue and gray, he wore what had been a crisp shirt and trousers. Over the shirt were a vest and cloak.
Bander helped the gnome to his feet. “I can manage,” he was told as the gnome slapped his hands away. Stumbling, he managed to stand. He brushed the dirt off his vest and turned his attention to Linvin. “You had no right getting involved in that disagreement!”
“Disagreement?” laughed Rander. “It looked like the only thing they hadn’t agreed on was how they were going to dispose of you.”
“Hey, Buttercup!” the gnome called to Rander. “Do you mind? I was talking to Elf-Man over here. Just keep your mouth shut while the grown-ups talk.”
Rander was incensed “You have some nerve, talking to us like that after we saved your life.”
The gnome calmly walked over and kicked Rander in the shin with his boot. Rander bent down to grab the leg in reaction. Once his head had lowered, the gnome put his mouth by Rander’s ear and screamed. “I didn’t ask for your help! I don’t want your help! When I have something to say to you, I will say it to you! Now sit down and shut up.” The gnome chopped with his open hand at the back of Rander’s knee and the elf fell to the ground.
As Rander rolled around in pain, the gnome walked over to Linvin. “Bit of an annoying one you got there, aye, Elf-Man?”
Linvin was surprisingly amused. “He has his moments, my good gnome, but by and by, he is still my kin. He did not deserve your treatment any more than I believe you deserved the treatment by those men. I do not find your gratitude for our efforts to be in keeping with custom. Perhaps you wish we had not come along when we did?”
The gnome looked each party member in the eyes for a few moments at a time. Bander looked away from the gnome’s brazen stare. Rander was angered but also looked away, turning his attention to his pain. Anvar looked straight back like some curious flower had been brought to his attention. Linvin watched the gnome the entire time and did not blink when their eyes met. As if they had rehearsed, a wicked smile appeared on both their faces at the same time. They looked like they were the only ones in the group knowing the answer to a riddle.
The gnome did not wear the traditional pointed beard of his people. He was clean-shaven and gave the impression of putting great stock in his appearance. Though certainly not inferring wealth, his clothes were, nonetheless, well-tailored. Colored entirely in blue and gray, he wore what had been a crisp shirt and trousers. Over the shirt were a vest and cloak.
Bander helped the gnome to his feet. “I can manage,” he was told as the gnome slapped his hands away. Stumbling, he managed to stand. He brushed the dirt off his vest and turned his attention to Linvin. “You had no right getting involved in that disagreement!”
“Disagreement?” laughed Rander. “It looked like the only thing they hadn’t agreed on was how they were going to dispose of you.”
“Hey, Buttercup!” the gnome called to Rander. “Do you mind? I was talking to Elf-Man over here. Just keep your mouth shut while the grown-ups talk.”
Rander was incensed “You have some nerve, talking to us like that after we saved your life.”
The gnome calmly walked over and kicked Rander in the shin with his boot. Rander bent down to grab the leg in reaction. Once his head had lowered, the gnome put his mouth by Rander’s ear and screamed. “I didn’t ask for your help! I don’t want your help! When I have something to say to you, I will say it to you! Now sit down and shut up.” The gnome chopped with his open hand at the back of Rander’s knee and the elf fell to the ground.
As Rander rolled around in pain, the gnome walked over to Linvin. “Bit of an annoying one you got there, aye, Elf-Man?”
Linvin was surprisingly amused. “He has his moments, my good gnome, but by and by, he is still my kin. He did not deserve your treatment any more than I believe you deserved the treatment by those men. I do not find your gratitude for our efforts to be in keeping with custom. Perhaps you wish we had not come along when we did?”
The gnome looked each party member in the eyes for a few moments at a time. Bander looked away from the gnome’s brazen stare. Rander was angered but also looked away, turning his attention to his pain. Anvar looked straight back like some curious flower had been brought to his attention. Linvin watched the gnome the entire time and did not blink when their eyes met. As if they had rehearsed, a wicked smile appeared on both their faces at the same time. They looked like they were the only ones in the group knowing the answer to a riddle.
May 8, 2015
My Guest Appearance
Bernard Foong was kind enough to put me on his blog today. Check it out at http://bernardfoong.typepad.com/in_th...
In a pleasant surprise “Quest for the Red Sapphire” is still listed on Amazon at .99! It was supposed to come down but has not yet. Here’s a great chance to dive into a great adventure. http://amzn.to/1npYd0S
In a pleasant surprise “Quest for the Red Sapphire” is still listed on Amazon at .99! It was supposed to come down but has not yet. Here’s a great chance to dive into a great adventure. http://amzn.to/1npYd0S
