Book Excerpt 2 – Travellers and Tramps
Hey look! It’s The Last Prospector!!
Travellers and Tramps is coming next month. Who else has a tingly feeling all over?
Last week I shared THIS EXCERPT RIGHT HERE IN THIS CLICKY SPACE. It was a humorous look at the foibles of Captain Awnyx Tiell. In this follow up to The Last Prospector, Awnyx is continuing his mission to locate some very hard to find items.
The most dangerous part of his journey is to climb The Knives, a forbidding chain of mountains that form the western edge of Solstice. What lies beyond the boundaries of Solstice is a nether region known as the nullvoid, no one ever goes near the peaks in fear of falling into the nullvoid.
We join the story as Awnyx is trying to mine a chunk of teoru from one of the peaks. Please enjoy!
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The bulge was right overhead now. Awnyx used a small crack in the rock to pull his body the rest of the way and hammered in several pitons all around. He secured himself against the rock with several ropes and clips, triple checking them all before bringing out the pouch of magicks.
The chunk of teoru was big. It would go a long way towards filling up the rest of his sack, and smelled especially bad to Awnyx’s nose. He would never get used to that smell and willed his nearly empty stomach not to heave as he brought out a large piece of dhabh. The coarse dark blue potion treated fabric would encase the teoru. Next were the spool of primer cord and a vial of enkindler.
The torch was setting behind Awnyx and he tried not to rush himself. He was burned once early on in the expedition by being too hasty with the extraction. Fortunately, he brought an assortment of medicines and salves from Yndigon and the burn healed very well. It had hurt though, he could actually smell his flesh burning. The memory of Snatch burning in Urro haunted him for days afterwards. That was much worse than the physical pain, so Awnyx had been excruciatingly careful since then. The winds were stronger after torchset, whipping the edges of the dhabh as he laid it over the chunk of teoru as flush to the rock face as possible.
“Seal,” he said to the fabric, feeling just as ridiculous this time as he had the first.
Awnyx did not understand magicks at all, but Pulyn told him it far more than potions and elixirs. The words are important, she told Awnyx. It was the very same thing Snatch said in the dream. The Shaman explained words were an expression of intent, desire and will. The sound of the words was a form of energy that ignited magick. The words didn’t need to be mysterious or even understandable to others, but a pure expression of thought coupled with a pure action from the speaker. Thus far, all the magicks worked as they were supposed to. But Awnyx still disliked playing with them and was tiring of this grand adventure.
At the sound of his word, the dhabh shimmered slightly and merged with the rock face, protecting Awnyx from the ooze. He was measuring out a length of primer cord when he heard the sickening sound of rock cracking and checked all his moorings again. Pulse racing, he tried not to think about the rock face breaking underneath his weight, freeing his body for the winds to push into the nullvoid. Awnyx’s hands trembled as he arranged the length of primer cord around the perimeter of the bulge, his ears listening sharp for any noises.
“Seal,” he said again, to the cord this time, but his voice sounded thin. The cord fastened around the teoru and there was but one last step. The next crack was louder and closer. It was almost full dark, Awnyx could not see very far but knew the peak was breaking away around him.
For a split second he considered shimmying down as quickly as he could. But the large chunk of teoru might fill his bag and Awnyx wanted this to be over. He gritted his teeth and firmly gripped the vial of enkindler, carefully pulling out the dropper. It only took one drop, but it needed to be right on the thin primer cord. Aiming was difficult in the wind with his frozen fingers.
Holding his breath, he steadied his hand over the cord and released the drop of amber colored liquid onto the primer. It sizzled and glowed, ringing the teoru in a thin orange fire that ate into the rock as the dhabh closed in around it. Awnyx held the dhabh covered chunk in his hand, feeling it separate from the rock. It took several minutes to get all the around the large piece that felt like days to Awnyx as he listened for another crack.
There was a leather pouch securely attached to Awnyx’s belt. He held the opening up to the bulge, willing it to hurry and fall in. The sickening noise accompanying the teoru as it came away from the rock was louder than a crack. It was louder than the booming thunder that rolled and echoed off the peaks of Yndigon. The rocks actually screamed in high pitched fury as the rock face broke away around the fresh holes punched into it by The Big Man.
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