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> Preview of Not-So-Secret Writing Project
treydog
post Aug 15 2021, 04:49 PM
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Master
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Joined: 13-February 05
From: The Smoky Mountains



So I have mentioned the progress (or lack of) in the Your Projects thread. And this is a sample- from Book 2, as it happens. Hope everyone enjoys this little taste.

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I had been on the trail from Commonweal Docks to Fort Blackstone for two days, taking the time to gather ingredients for potions and doing the basic compounding that simple equipment and relatively fresh water for a reagent allowed. Field alchemy was much different than working in a fully-stocked laboratory, but it was good practice. And if the resulting mixtures would not be as efficacious as the “professional” variety, they still had some value. In fact, I was engaged in searching for a patch of water mint when I heard something that caught my attention. I had done my best to avoid habitations or settlements, so the sound of a high-pitched voice startled me.

“Now you just stay there. I am going to catch you and then we can be friends. I said hold still! And stop that snorting this instant!”

That was enough to cause me to step out of the vegetation and onto the edge of the path. What I saw nearly caused me to need one of the potions I had created- one for the treatment of heart palpitations. A small elf child was standing in the center of the trail, brandishing a stick at a red onyxid. For its part, the creature was showing all the signs of an incipient charge- shaking its head, pawing the ground with its claws, and snorting loudly. The threat of being trampled was bad enough, but this girl was bidding fair to become a meal for the reptilian biped.

The onyxids of Inis Bolcan came in three varieties, and all of them could be dangerous. The brown ones, like the herd back in Portan Baile, were more docile and could be domesticated. But the red and the horned variants were bad-tempered and omnivorous- with a distinct preference for the meat side of that diet. All three kinds shared the trait that had given them their names- their bones were a solid, shiny black. That was certainly useful knowledge, except for the fact that I was about to see a tragedy played out right in front of me, rather than a natural history lesson in a classroom. As I readied my staff, the phrase, “hunting dragons with a stick” came to mind; for some reason, I did not find the image as amusing as I once had.

Fortunately, there appeared to be only one of the monsters, instead of a pack, which was probably why this one was hesitating. Either that or, like me, it was having trouble believing its eyes. Instead of running or climbing a tree, the elf child had one hand raised in an imperious gesture, while the other tapped the stick against the side of her boot. But the impasse would not last. I drew in a deep breath and ran toward the red onnie, waving my staff and shouting at the top of my voice, “Go on! Get out of here! Ya!”

To my great relief, my sudden appearance worked and the onnie bolted down the trail and then crashed into the brush. Doing my best to control my shaking knees, I turned to the nearly-a-roadside meal elf girl and opened my mouth. I only got as far as “What....?” when she interrupted me, her voice shrill with anger.

“What did you do that for? You scared him!”

“Scared him? He should have scared you! What were you doing?”

“I was looking to catch myself an onnie.”

“With a stick!?”

Her lower lip stuck out and she folded her arms. “It's not 'stick.' It's a riding crop! And everything was going good until you came flapping and shouting and chased him off!”

I could feel a headache forming behind my right eye. “Right. It was going fine. A red onnie.”

“Huh? What difference does it make what color he is? He's an onnie and I was going to catch him.”

I did not really want to explain the differences in onnie physiognomy and eating habits, other than in abbreviated fashion. “He was deciding whether he wanted to make a snack of you. That was not a riding onnie, that was an eats-people onnie.”

She peered at me from under her bangs and shook her head firmly. “I don't think so. I think you are just afraid of onnies.”

“That's not so! I have... had... one,” I waved vaguely toward the north, “back home.”

“I bet you didn't. You're just making it up cause you're scared! I bet you don't even like onnies!”

I restrained the impulse to answer her as I had once answered the same accusation from Breanna- “I like them fine, as long as they are cooked properly.” That would take this conversation in a worse direction than it was already going, if that was even possible. The thing to do was get the discussion off of me and onto- “So, we haven't been introduced, Domina...?” I knew I couldn't call her “little elf girl,” not if I hoped to make any progress at all. And besides that, for all I knew, she could be 90 years old. Elves aged differently than non-elves. I didn't really believe she was an adult, but speaking that assumption out loud seemed like a bad idea.

She drew herself up to her full height, which amounted to something between 3 and 4 feet. “I am Kiora.”

Progress. “Thank you, Kiora. Now, where are your parents?” In my rush to escort her home and be on my way, I had forgotten my earlier concern about not knowing her actual age. But- if she was as young as she seemed, I could give her people a friendly word about keeping a closer eye on their little “beloved dark one.” I did not know much elven language, but had paid attention to the meanings of names.

The question was a mistake. She folded her arms and jutted her lower lip once more. “Not telling. And besides, you haven't said who you are. Maybe you're a robber. That would make sense. I bet robbers don't like onnies, either.” She eyed my shredded and then mended trousers. “It doesn't look like you are a very good robber, though. So, if you aren't an onnie-hating robber, who are you?”

That was a difficult question. I did not want to give my birth name, because I intended to leave all of that behind me. But I had not really come up with an alternative yet. “Ah... I... am...,” I groped for inspiration. Saying I did not have a name would not pass muster, and I could see Kiora growing more suspicious by the second. Wait... nameless.... “I am Leith- Leith Latuit.” I bowed formally. “Pleased to make your acquaintance, Domina Kiora. Now that we have been introduced, where is your home?”

“Where's yours? Some robber cave? Can I see it?”

“Ah... no. My home is... Fort Blackstone.” That was my plan, anyway, so it was mostly true. Unfortunately, “mostly true” was not good enough for a sharp-eyed elf.

“Nuh-UH! If you were with the Legion, you would have a uniform. Now I know you are a robber- a onnie-hating, fibbing robber!”

“Now wait. I gave you my name; that should count for something. And... what I mean is, I am going to Fort Blackstone, to join the Legion. Would a robber do that?”

She eyed me skeptically. “Don't know. A fibber might fib about it. So I think..., I think,” she tapped the stick idly against her boot again. “You need to agree to help me. Then I might decide you aren't a robber.”

Salvation beckoned and I seized it- too quickly, as it happened. “I will be delighted to help you get home, Kiora. Just point the way.”

She shook her head, black hair flying. “Nope. Not yet. I will go home- if you help me catch an onnie. Cause I told them I was going to- and they,” she sniffed and wiped her nose with her sleeve, “laughed at me. Or,” she raised her riding crop, “instead, I could catch a robber!” She squinted at me, with what I supposed was meant to be a stern look. “So, which will it be, Domine Onnie-hating, Robbing, Fibber? Will you help me- or do I need to make a civilian arrest?”

I sighed. Why did I even try to reason with girl elves, especially where onnies where concerned? “I will help you catch a brown onnie, and I will also tell you what I know about caring for them.”

She lowered the stick fractionally. “Good. Cause I don't want to have to hurt you.”

Gravely, I replied, “Certainly. And I would also prefer that you do not hurt me.”

She smiled, like someone sharing a secret. “Also, I know where there's a herd. That's where I was going, but then that one just showed up, so I decided to start with him.”

I wasn't taking any chances, so I asked, “A herd of...?”

“Onnies of course! Are you simple? Maybe that's why you aren't a very good robber.”

“Just to be clear, I am not a 'robber'.”

She frowned and pointed out, “Well yeah, but I only have your word for that, and you are a fibber, so....” Her expression cleared. “I know! You need to make a pledge- that you aren't a robber.” She pointed at the ground in front of her. “Kneel down.”

I repented of any intention I had ever had to have children; in fact, I decided I would try to avoid anyone else's children in the future as well. Still, anything to get this over with, so I knelt down, which brought me to eye level with Kiora. She waved her stick and said, “Further. Lower your head.” When I did, she placed the tip of her stick on top of my head. “Now. Say what I say.” She paused and then intoned, “I, Leith, promise to give up bein' a robber and a fibber and to stop hatin' onnies and to help Kiora catch one for her very own.”

I repeated the words, even managing to avoid rolling my eyes while I did so. When I had finished, she whacked me on the head with the stick.

“Ow! Was that necessary?”

“Of course it was. I had to drub you... or is it 'dub?' If I didn't, the pledge wouldn't count.”

I stood up and said, “It's 'dub'.” Then I rubbed my scalp and added, “Although in this case....”


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The dreams down here aren't broken, nah, they're walkin' with a limp...

The best-dressed newt in Mournhold.
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Renee
post Aug 15 2021, 09:38 PM
Post #2


Councilor
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Joined: 19-March 13
From: Ellicott City, Maryland



Yes, children can be a blessing if they're ours. If they're not ours sometimes stuff like this happens. Almost getting killed by an onnie! indifferent.gif panic.gif panic.gif


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SubRosa
post Aug 16 2021, 12:57 AM
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Ancient
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Joined: 14-March 10
From: Between The Worlds



The talk of field alchemy immediatley made me think of Athlain back in the early days of his Morrowind fic.

Well Leith Latuit, nice to meet you. And your boisterious elven friend.

What a nice drubbing. I am dubbing, of Sir Leith!

Seriously though, it is a nice introduction with a piece of action that does not involve violence. That is something I am still working on. Ways to create action without it being a fight. It gives us a nice insight into the kind of person "Leith" is. Patient, ready to step in to protect others, not too full of himself. Also that he is on the run from something, or someone. Or at least eager to put his past life behind him.




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