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Despair: Servant of the Fates
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Authors requesting reviewers > Reviewers wanted for a fantasy novel: Despair (Servant of the Fates)

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message 1: by Val (new) - added it

Val Panesar | 6 comments Hi, I'm looking for reviewers for my new book, Despair. It's book I in a pre-planned series entitled Servant of the Fates. It's an original setting, though takes inspiration from a lot of existing cultures and myths. (i.e. the dark elven language is Italian)


message 2: by Val (new) - added it

Val Panesar | 6 comments Here's a sample from Despair. It's from a few chapters in that should give you some idea of the kind of the story this is:

Aysir walked over and pushed the doors, but they did not open. He was a little surprised to find that they were locked from the other side. He rapped his knuckles against the door three times and waited. The quiet murmur inside fell completely silent; Aysir frowned, wondering if he’d have to come back later. After a short wait he heard footsteps approach the door, and then a voice called out.
“Who goes there?” it was a woman’s voice. She didn’t sound particularly afraid.
“I am Aysir, coming by way of Turinstad.” There was silence again, followed by the scraping of wood as the locking bar was lifted away. Aysir waited as the door was pulled open a little before stepping in. The woman standing behind the door was tall and built like a blacksmith. She nodded over to the bar behind her, waiting for Aysir to make his way in, before closing the door and setting the locking bar back in place.
Aysir walked to one of the seats set around the bar. He counted fifteen people spread out over the tables in the large room, all watching him, while pretending not to. The woman walked behind the bar once she had finished with the door.
“Expecting trouble?” Aysir asked, glancing back.
“Something like that,” she answered evasively; “We don’t normally get lone travellers here, let alone elves. I’m Sigrid, the owner of the Wayward, what can I get you?” the inn keeper asked.
“Whisky,” Aysir said while scanning the room fully. The wooden walls and floor of the inn appeared old, the darkly varnished surfaces looking quite aged and scuffed. The area looked impressively large, despite the dark colours and low lighting. A few wall sconces and a smouldering fireplace at the far end were the only sources of light inside. Just over the fireplace, there was mounted a large, scarred bear head; the grizzly trophy baring its teeth at the patrons seated below. Aysir’s attention shifted further up from the fireplace, where he counted four large chandeliers, all unlit.
Aysir looked back down and counted at least three separate groups of people in the inn. While one of them looked quite distinct by their leather robes and cowls, the remainder appeared to be from any of the nearby villages. The village folk had the look of merchants and traders about them. Most of the patrons here were men, though there were a few women among the merchants and a child with the cowled men, again with his face covered by a hood.
Aysir could hear the various whispered conversations around him as he turned back around and watched Sigrid pour his drink. He placed his helmet on the bar along with a few coins for the drink.
“Is there a Jorge here?” Aysir asked Sigrid as she placed his drink on the bar.
“Who’s asking?” she asked, keeping her hand on the glass. She had a fierce face, framed by unruly red hair, tied back into a braided tail.
“Edorich of Everstad told me he’d know about the caravan that was involved in the incident a while ago,” Aysir explained. Sigrid seemed satisfied with the answer, she let go of the glass, stepping back.
“Jorge isn’t here I’m afraid. He had a small errand to run over at Raenvale. He should have been back shortly, but if he has any brains, he’ll wait until the fog has passed.”
“I suppose I’m in for a wait then,” Aysir frowned, picking up his drink and swiftly draining it.
“Well that explains it,” Sigrid laughed, leaning back against the wall behind her.
“Excuse me?” Aysir asked, turning back to her. She didn’t answer right away; she stepped forward and refilled Aysir’s glass first, watching him down it again.
“I wondered what kind of person travels alone through that fog. I’ve seen it many times; a man who drinks like that has no fear of death…and that isn’t a compliment,” Sigrid shook her head disapprovingly. Aysir lifted the empty glass for a moment, staring into it. With a frown, Aysir put the glass back down and gestured over his shoulder.
“What’s out there?” Aysir asked. “What is everyone so afraid of?”
“I couldn’t say,” she shook her head before leaning forward against the bar, “I don’t think anyone knows for certain.”
“Are we safe in here?” Aysir wondered aloud, tapping his glass again.
“As safe as any I guess,” the bar keeper shrugged, picking up the bottle of whisky and pouring Aysir another glass. “I haven’t heard of folk being killed in their homes…yet.” Aysir nodded; he picked up his glass, ready to drain it once more. He stopped half way as he spied the impressive longsword mounted on the wall behind Sigrid.
“That’s a remarkable weapon,” Aysir observed, pointing at the long sword. While the hilt was wrapped in leather bindings and looked less than spectacular, the notched blade gleamed a brilliant silver. Along its length it bore patterns intricately carved into the steel.
“Indeed it was. A relic from another life,” Sigrid smiled dourly. Aysir smiled, putting the glass down and sliding it to her.
“To forgotten histories,” Aysir sighed. Sigrid’s smile became a little easier; she took the glass and drained it as quickly as Aysir had. She thumped it back on the table, and at the same time a thud sounded from the doorway.
It sounded again. Rather than the sharp rap of a knock, it sounded like someone trying to barge their way through the door; quite unsuccessfully at that. Sigrid began to move out from behind the bar, despite a few patrons telling her to ignore the sound. Aysir held a hand up to her, getting up from his seat and moving out in front. He motioned for Sigrid to wait as he approached the door with one hand on his sword hilt.
The sound continued, though it was becoming fainter. Aysir looked back over to Sigrid and gestured at the door. She nodded and called out, asking who it was.
“It’s…me…Jorge,” a voice called out. It was very weak and Aysir only just made it out.
“It’s Jorge,” Aysir said, turning to look at Sigrid.
“Open it,” she nodded. Aysir unbarred the door, opening it carefully. Just outside lay Jorge, a thin, balding man, dressed in a large overcoat. He was on the ground in a heap. There were patches of blood over his coat and his face looked heavily bruised, but he was still alive. Aysir glanced around outside, making sure he was alone before kneeling down to help him inside. Sigrid rushed over to help him, while another of the patrons locked the door again.
“Jorge, what happened?” Sigrid asked as they sat him down at the foot of the bar. She held him up while Aysir pulled him out of the overcoat. Most of the blood seemed to have come from internal bleeding and then coughed up; there were wounds and bruises all over him, as well as several cuts along his forehead that bled profusely. He tried to talk, but only wheezed and coughed.
“We have to get him to a hea-” Sigrid was interrupted by Aysir, who raised a hand for silence. He stood up, turning his attention outward, beyond the walls of the inn.
“There’s something else out there,” Aysir whispered. Sigrid tried to concentrate and listen, but she could hear nothing. Aysir picked up his helmet, slipping it on. He looked out of one of the windows, but predictably could see nothing except the dense fog. After a few moments Sigrid and the other inn patrons could hear what Aysir had heard. Wails of hopelessness, howls of misery, the cries of creatures unnatural.
Aysir stepped towards the door, putting his hand around the hilt of his sword, ready for anything that tried to come through. The sounds suddenly faded away, a last few howls sounding in the distance and then dying away. Aysir took another step forward. No one dared to breathe. Was it over?
CRASH!


message 3: by Val (new) - added it

Val Panesar | 6 comments Bumping this - still looking for reviewers if anyone's interested in a free kindle book for a review.


Megan (myownsatellite) I'll give it a shot. Is this final copy?


message 5: by Val (new) - added it

Val Panesar | 6 comments Indeed it is. It's been out for a few months, just had trouble getting people to review it :p If you mail me at Valpanesar at outlook.com - I'll attach the kindle book to a reply. Thanks.


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