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Scimitars of Drizzt
Seeker
Canada
77 Posts |
 Posted - 10 Jun 2020 : 21:48:51
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EDIT: I've been informed that I've been using a few gaming terms, but I've never even played D&D nor any game set in the Realms, so I didn't realize I was doing that, but I can see how it ruins the immersion. Will likely change that at somepoint.
Hey everyone. For the past month or so, I've been working on a book set in Faerun, in the year 1341. I plan on it being around the same length as other Realms novels, and what I have hear is what I believe to be roughly 25 pages.
I'm looking for feedback on my work. These won't necessarily be the opening chapters, but it's just what I have so far. I will have to go back and add character descriptions, as I know that is something I'm lacking for the protagonist and antagonist.
I really don't know what to think of it, I'm sure it's not great. I'm kind of afraid to make this post as I have no clue what to expect from feedback, and I could see myself becoming discouraged to finish the book, but it is what it is; I know it wouldn't hurt, as feedback should do nothing but help my writing.
I'm especially interested in your thoughts on the pacing of the book, but of course I'm interested in any feedback you can give.
I plan on introducing a few other important characters. I definitely plan on some funny characters, and some romance.
I really appreciate anyone who takes the time to share your thoughts, and perhaps encourage me to finish the book.
Both chapters are incomplete at the moment, and they aren't necessarily in order.
The only real dialogue so far is near the end, but that will soon pick up. There is a fight scene near the middle, after "BREAK".
Anyway, here it goes:
Chapter ?
Droldzas Kogrimmor dulled his eyes and shook his head slowly as he considered the descending tunnel ahead, steadily believing this area to be exiting the realm of the Upperdark. Despite the possible discrepancy, the witch’s description of the passageways were accurate, much to Droldzas’s surprise. The caves were short and winding, the ceiling rich with spiky stalactites, and the walls sharp and indented. White, dark-tipped mushrooms occasionally sprung from the wet ground, and the odd stalagmite mounded to the low ceiling above. The short tunnels never stretched for more than fifty feet and always curled one way, oftentimes rocky paths leading down treacherous slopes.
Droldzas strolled on, his undead legs moving in tireless cadence. Growing impatient, the master vampire was ready to morph into bat form, but then halted abruptly when he thought to hear the vague murmur of voices. He’d caught the faint ringing of pickaxes - no doubt dwarfs from the nearby city of Gildenglade - not long after submerging from the surface, but that clatter had died down almost twenty minutes prior, around the time the vampire veered off from their mines into the distinct region of small, rough caves.
Droldzas crouched low and remained still, darting his eyes about and listently intently for the source of the disturbance.
He waited patiently, confident his keen senses would make out any further disruption emanating from the seemingly vacant labyrinth.
Droldzas caught the disturbance again - certainly voices - but this particular sound wasn’t originating from behind, but instead further up the tunnel.
He was certain the voices were those of dwarfs, recognizing the distinct, gruff tones, as he sorted through the faint pitches that echoed from deeper within the complex. The dwarfs didn’t appear to be very close, but the veteran vampire’s acute senses had little trouble in discerning the distant sounds.
Stalking ahead, Droldzas neared the end of the passageway and approached the next bend, the cave opening up into a larger cavern.
He peered into the vast emptiness of the void, his darkvision allowing ample sight of the pitch-black area ahead.
Immediately, Droldzas knew he had arrived at his destination. The impressive cavern was thirty feet high and almost double that in width, extending for over a hundred feet. Thick stalagmites sprouted from various locations, and more than a couple murky lakes - including a particularly large one near the left-center of the cave - posed hazards to one travelling on foot. Large, dark alcoves promised secluded terrors from the walls above, and hundreds of stalactites hung from the ceiling, some as long as eight feet. But most noticeably clear was the unmissable rocky opening - an oval-like portal that was almost thirty feet tall and twenty feet wide - carved in the center of the back wall. The hollow’s formation was crude, the circumference of the oval jagged and indented, clearly a natural product of the Underdark’s dynamic topography.
To give the old crone credit, it was much like what Droldzas had conjured in his mind.
No other tunnels or caves visibly extended the cavern, but it appeared that one alcove halfway up the cavern’s right wall - opposite to the lake - was large enough for Droldzas to fit through, posing to be a series of tunnels.
The cavern appeared to be very still, but it certainly seemed like a suitable location for an insidious creature or two to call home.
Droldzas finished scanning the area and using his innate ability granted by vampirism, took the form of a bat, fluttering towards the giant mouth at the end of the cavern.
On his way he took liberty to fly past the opening on the right wall, confirming the hollow to indeed be a network of seemingly uninhabited tunnels.
Droldzas morphed, silently materializing back to his undead, humanoid state at the edge of the mouth’s opening.
He crouched low, tight to the rock, and peered into the opening beyond, his dark cloak and grey skin not betraying the prominent colours of the Underdark.
Duergar dwarfs, Droldzas realized, noticing four of the creatures standing in the vast cave below to the left, knowing them to be the source of the prior disturbance. The witch had guaranteed vacantness, but somehow Droldzas wasn’t surprised to see the occupying life forms.
The cave beyond was greater than the last, not quite as long, but stretching upwards for hundreds of feet. Natural rock formations constructed high bridges above, underpasses to caves and tunnels leading to the surface. The cavern was only a little wider than the last, but several passageways lined the walls below, no doubt a variety of networks leading deeper into the Underdark. The floors were shockingly bare, though to the right of the cavern were many piles of stone rubble, suggesting a disturbance of once intact stalagmites.
The artifact was ostensibly to be in this exact cavern where the dwarfs milled, or at least in one of the very nearby anterooms.
Droldzas watched the dwarfs carefully, curious as to why they were so close to the surface, but more vexed by the fact that they were even here in the first place. The vampire hadn’t spent much time in the Underdark, but in his two-hundred plus years of undead life he’d heard of duergar dwarfs and knew they weren’t accustomed to leaving their deep cities of the Lowerdark.
Droldzas studied the dwarfs for many minutes, hoping they’d eventually move on and disappear down one of the many tunnels branching out from the cavern. Three of the duergar were deep in conversation, and the other sat a few feet away studying a grimoire.
Eventually, one of the conversing duergar - the one with the mace as Droldzas referred to, thankful for their varied armory as he’d struggle to tell them apart otherwise - disappeared into a nearby tunnel, emerging a handful of seconds later with a small sack in which he produced sporeflour bread and bits of preserved rothe. The dwarf called over the others and they began eating quietly, save the odd bellow or remark that elicited from the feasting brethren.
Droldzas took note of the clerical dwarf, and of the few firelights placed along the duergar’s vicinity. While he had never encountered a grey dwarf before, he had heard stories of their prowess and sheer hatred, and certainly wasn’t looking forward to battling a band of the bitter creatures, especially one that accommodated a magic-user.
Droldzas had enough of watching the creatures, wanting nothing more than to rid of the miserable, disgusting beings that were interfering with the vampire's designs.
He cursed the lying witch and cursed the duergar themselves, believing his entire existence to be nothing more than a damnable curse.
The artifact was down here. Droldzas had to believe it. He wasn’t about to turn around now, and he’d dismember the deceitful crone himself if he learned of any further trickery.
Droldzas fixated his eyes on the duergar he’d seen studying the grimoire. The dwarf wizard was the only distinct one of the bunch - though they were all bald and tattooed - his grey robes and lack of armory clearly separating him from the rest. He chewed away at his meal, completely oblivious to the staring, red-eyes that promised the dwarf a grisly fate.
With a plan in motion the vampire dissipated into thin air. Now a gaseous form, he floated into the cavern silently, leaving no sign that the recluse dwarfs were about to receive a rather untimely visitor.
BREAK
Droldzas transformed from gaseous form back into his undead, grey self, materializing behind the remains of a broken stalagmite not fifteen feet from the indulging, grey dwarfs.
He peeked around the shattered boulder, noticing the duergar wizard who was sitting to the right on a makeshift bench, conveniently positioned across the other dwarfs who sat together to the left just a few feet away.
Droldzas was no wizard, but he certainly hadn’t gained proficiency as a master vampire without dabbling somewhat in the arcane arts.
The vampire began a mental chant, mouthing indistinguishable phrases and building momentum as he quickly approached the pinnacle of his potent spell.
Droldzas sprung from the cover of the boulder and launched his magic, extending his hands to guide the streak of yellow-orange energy toward the trio of oblivious, feasting dwarfs.
Before they could so much as shout, the spell connected, immediately engulfing the entirety of the middle dwarf’s body in a violent, roaring blaze. The duergar wailed in agony, as he sprung out of his seat and bounced a couple steps before launching himself to the ground, rolling in a futile effort to quell the biting flames.
The impact of the spell caused a small detonation, and the two dwarfs surrounding their perishing comrade were hit with viscous flares and dancing, orange flames.
The dwarf with the mace clutched at his burning face screaming, and flopped to the ground, rolling desperately to try and extinguish a blaze that was devouring his arm.
The third dwarf - an especially stout fellow with fading face tattoos and a solid battle axe strapped across his back - fared a bit better, as he managed to avoid being set aflame, but was still struck by violent flares that left him with significant burns on his throat and neck.
Droldzas didn’t waste any time reveling in their screams; he knew the duergar mage to be the biggest threat, but couldn’t pass the opportunity of roasting three of the bald, dirty creatures at once.
The second Droldzas cast the fiery magic he had drawn his enchanted longsword and was running straight for the duergar wizard.
Watching his troop burn in horror, the dwarf caught Droldzas’s advance: a six-foot tall red-eyed nightmare, wielding a longsword and rapidly approaching only a few paces away.
The dwarf’s eyes widened in terror and with hardly any time to think the wizard reacted, drawing forth his ancestral magic: only a couple steps away, Droldzas was just beginning the motion of cutting through the duergar when the dwarf suddenly vanished, halting the vampire in his tracks.
Droldzas spat in disgust and instinctively spun around, his eyes darting about the entirety of the great chamber for signs of the elusive wizard.
The middle dwarf - the target of Droldzas’s fire shroud - flopped about the cavern’s floor, his screams of piercing agony dimming as his entire body sizzled away.
The duergar with the mace was close to recovering as he’d almost successfully doused the fire that had set his arm aflame, though he’d suffered fierce burns in the ordeal, one in particular a garish wound that bubbled vertically across his face.
The third dwarf was sufficiently unscathed, as he brandished his battle axe and commenced a vicious charge at the wicked vampire.
Droldzas cursed at the thought of turning his back to the wizard, but knew he needed to deal with the threat at hand, confident he could quickly slay the furious dwarf.
Droldzas squared himself to the charge, carefully measuring the duergar’s movements, analyzing the best moment to parry or launch his attack.
The seasoned dwarf slowed his advance, and with little warning, transformed his four foot form into that of an eight foot giant.
The vampire reeled, truly shocked and impressed by the sudden transfiguration of the surprisingly competent creatures. He’d assumed the duergar wizard to have teleported, and now this axe-wielding duergar had morphed his form into that of a hulking ogre.
He had enough of their games.
The vampire was confident that he could dispatch the oversized dwarf - even with an elusive wizard creeping about - but wasn’t one for risks, and knew he could tilt the scales back in his favour massively by utilizing one of his many deceitful tricks.
Powerful in his two centuries of undead life, Droldzas was able to call forth his own transfiguring abilities more than once in succession, so long as the transformations weren’t rapidly abused.
The duplicated dwarf was only a giant step or two away when Droldzas animated himself into a tiny bat, immediately dipping downwards and fluttering back.
The dwarf chopped wildly, well missing the fleeing vampire as he flew out of range and continued around the cavern in search of the incognito wizard.
Droldzas flew up high, ascending almost forty feet as he hid in the shadows of a recess, scoping out the battlefield and determining his next play.
The wizard reappeared seconds later near his roasted comrade, not twenty feet from the position where he vanished.
Droldzas cursed, realizing the dwarf had likely been invisible the entire time and was probably right in front of him at one point. Though he’d heard of grey dwarfs, he wasn’t familiar with their tactics, or abilities.
Droldzas wasn’t sure if the wizard would be clever enough to harness positive energy against his undead, negative life force, but he certainly didn’t want to give the dwarf the chance and find out.
Hovering, the vampire was expending more energy than he’d like in his alternate form and was eager to slay the hostile creatures, perhaps even feed on their corpses.
His fire shroud spell would surely drain the majority of his remaining energy, the vampire knew, but Droldzas wasn’t one to rely on his magic to do his killing. Plus, he only knew a few other spells, none of them as potent as his blanketing fireball.
Droldzas swooped back down toward the dwarfs.
On his way, he noticed some trickery: the wizard had hurried the wounded dwarf with the mace into a nearby tunnel - the same cave where the food was fetched - and materialized an illusory wall, sealing the entrance and separating himself and the other dwarf from the cavern, where their still ogre-sized ally patrolled outside.
Droldzas figured the wall to be nothing more than what it was - an illusion - and though it certainly granted the dwarfs an advantage, the vampire could still simply walk through the ten by ten foot facade. However, the illusion was brilliant in its depiction, and if Droldzas couldn’t remember the precise spot where the cave opened he could certainly risk walking straight into the stone wall if he wasn’t careful.
Droldzas couldn’t tell if this was pure stubbornness from the bunkered-up dwarfs, or if they truly were protecting what could be their home.
He didn’t care. Whatever was going on behind that wall, Droldzas didn’t want to give them the time to execute.
The master vampire carefully approached the hulking dwarf - doing his best to launch his ambush from the side, as the dwarf had his back to the illusory wall - and just a few feet away returned to his humanoid form.
The transformation and ensuing charge was quick and quiet, the duplicated dwarf having virtually no time to react to the attack.
To his credit, the duergar’s next action was swift, as a parry of his axe missed deflecting the vampire’s blade by inches.
The carefully positioned thrust targeted a gap in the oversized dwarf’s armor as Droldzas’s longsword deeply pierced the creature, the magic imbued in the blade scorching tissue from the inside.
The dwarf howled in agony as he degraded back to his four-foot frame, clutching at his near-mortal wound, screaming.
Droldzas knew the dwarf to be suffering excruciating pain. His longsword was enchanted to inflict burns by the touch; he was quite accustomed to the wailing shrieks of his foes as their insides blazed from within.
Droldzas sent his blade back into the crumpled dwarf, this time silencing his screams for good.
That should get their attention, Droldzas thought, wondering if his concealed adversaries could even see him.
He didn’t want to dally.
Droldzas sprinted away from the illusion and hugged the parallel wall, taking precaution in the event that the wizard could see through the magic.
The vampire entered gaseous form and inconspicuously floated through the fake wall into the tunnel beyond.
Stretching ahead was a downwards tunnel, and to the right, a bulbous chamber, with a couple smaller tunnels branching off in the same direction.
The two dwarfs waited reluctantly in the chamber, just meters away from the cave’s opening.
Droldzas figured he could float about undetected in his gaseous state, affording himself ample time to survey his surroundings and plan his best method of attack.
The idea proved short-lived as the dwarf wizard somehow discerned the misty form to be that of the vampire, or at least that of an unnatural occurrence.
“Oi!” the dwarf wizard proclaimed, glancing towards his comrade and repeatedly pointing his stubby finger at Droldzas’s floating form.
The acknowledgment jolted the vampire’s senses, truly shocked that he’d been outed so quickly.
A blast of bright orbs shot forth from the wizard’s palm, a quickly executed incantation aimed squarely at the vampire’s gaseous form.
The spell hardly affected Droldzas in his current state as the orbs passed through him, exploding into the tunnel wall. Droldzas felt the slight tingling energy of the resulting blast - negative energy - energy that fueled the vampire with strength rather than inflict harm.
Droldzas materialized smirking.
He ignored the charging duergar, focusing his attention on the wizard who remained in the chamber.
Weaving magic of his own, Droldzas launched a barrage of magic missiles from his fingertips, a simple incantation the vampire had mastered to great efficiency.
A couple of the green bolts of energy hit the wizard hard, overwhelming his defenses and knocking the dwarf back. The wizard stooped low as he took a few moments to gather his strength, weakened severely by the magical blast.
With a quick flick of the wrist Droldzas drew his longsword, and met the charging duergar’s attack, abruptly sidestepping a heavy swing of the dwarf’s mace, a blow that Droldzas didn’t dream parry.
The dwarf now off-balance, Droldzas lunged with incredible speed hoping to drive his longsword deep into the duergar’s side.
The dwarf was surprisingly nimble, however, and managed to swing his other hand around, deflecting the blade with the edge of his shield just in time.
In the blink of an eye, Droldzas pulled his sword back, swung it to the side then sent the blade forward, chopping for the dwarf’s thigh.
The sheer speed of the vampire was too overwhelming for the dwarf and he couldn’t hope to launch an attack of his own, barely keeping up with the vampire’s wicked offense as it was.
The longsword bit deeply into the dwarf’s upper-thigh.
The dwarf howled, which quickly turned into a full-pitched scream when the branding magic of the vampire’s longsword took effect.
Droldzas retracted his sword and flipped his wrists, rotating his sidelong blade to an upwards position, then in one smooth motion drove the blade up into the dwarf’s throat. The duergar’s screams muffled into a gurgle as he clutched at his mortal wound, a fountain of blood pouring down his neck.
Droldzas’s eyes sparkled at the sight of the gushing, red liquid.
The vampire pulled free his sword, then whipped about to face the chamber, expecting to come face-to-face with a barrage of magic.
The room appeared empty and there was no sign on the remaining duergar.
Droldzas carefully entered the chamber, looking around for some clue of the wizard’s location. The dwarfs had been using this cave as their home, as firelights, tools, and bedrolls lay around the area. He considered the two tunnels that extended from the cave, thinking it a likely event that the dwarf simply fled down one of the passages.
Droldzas spoke the word and cast a detect magic spell. He figured the wizard had transferred back to an invisible state, and was hoping to sense the dwarf’s presence before it got too far.
He could feel the lingering aura of his magic missile spell and sensed a couple minor trinkets among the dwarf’s scattered possessions, but nothing that proved to be a magic-wielding entity. The illusory wall was easily the strongest source of any nearby magic. He was about to give up, but then caught the aura of something new; faint and also illusory in nature, the wizard’s wall had almost masked this magical energy entirely.
Droldzas was almost certain the effect was left behind by the invisible dwarf.
He somersaulted through the illusory wall, springing up gracefully and drawing his sword in the same motion. Droldzas scanned the cavern. The vampire couldn’t detect any further magic, no trail that suggested the dwarf was running about in his invisible state. Droldzas furthered his search, walking through the large cave, expanding the area that his detection spell could reach. He traversed to the other side of the cavern, opposite to where the vampire had launched his first attack on the unsuspecting dwarfs.
Droldzas neared the end, noticing the dark void above giving way to a slanted, jagged ceiling, about forty feet high. The cave was still as wide, but the vast openness was no more, the tall ceiling somewhat enclosing this portion of the cavern. The area was thick with rubble; large chunks of broken rock - shattered stalagmites and stalactites - littered the area, some piled high blocking off many areas of travel. The ground was hardly bare as much of the traversable area consisted of small stones, forcing one on foot to pick their steps carefully. Rocks and boulders were neatly piled to the sides of the cave as if someone was in the process of clearing out the rubble.
Droldzas picked his way through the mess, and with only thirty feet until the cavern’s end, noticed a vast, dark opening in the ground ahead, partially engulfing the far wall.
Curious, the vampire edged on, his lithe form quickly and easily weaving its way through the ruins.
Droldzas reached the end of the cavern and crouched by the hollow’s lip, peering into the void below.
Chapter ?
Mariusz Stackmeir thanked the merchant as he collected the dried beef he just purchased, and meticulously packed the product away in a designated compartment in his leather backpack. Next to the beef in the same pocket was a hunk of wrapped pepper cheese, and in a parallel pocket, a loaf of fresh fruit cake - all items recently purchased, in what could be considered a shopping spree to the normally recluse man.
Feeling content on his current food supply, Mariusz stepped away from the meat counter and surveyed the surrounding area: people bustled all about the City of Splendors, as denizens from the city and distant towns thickly flowed the streets of the Trades Ward, in what was a busy time of the evening. Rows of stone and wood houses surrounded the High Road, some of them towering as high as four-stories and many of them nondescript in appearance. Many of these buildings were inns, guildhalls, and other businesses, highlighting the commercialism of the sector and exhibiting a less than homely feel, at least to the sheltered human. This area of Waterdeep was the busiest, the congested highway drawing an abundance of travellers from across Faerun.
Mariusz took a moment to study the people traversing the High Road in front of him. A group of young hooligans giggled, and sprinted into a nearby alley beside him - likely residents of the Southern Ward considering their thin, dirty clothes and lack of consistent footwear, Mariusz mused. A young couple shouted down the road for a carriage in front of him, and four battle-hardened dwarfs full in gear steadily trotted up the way, three of them fixated on one of the middle dwarfs who appeared to be deep in story. Plenty of other common folk and mercenary-looking men peppered the road, quickly moving in their own directions, minding their own business. City guards weren’t scarce to be found, as they patrolled the main road at regular intervals. Mariusz was truly mesmerized by the populace of the city, and the life it had to offer.
Snapping out of his subconscious trance, Mariusz looked up the road to the right, leading further into the city. He was pining for an ale, or a few, and though he passed a few taverns on his way into Waterdeep, none of them particularly stood out, and at the time he wasn’t thirsty. Plus, Mariusz was keen on further exploring the grand city.
He saw what appeared to be a friendly-looking face, a man in his late 20s or so, with soft features and short, neatly-kept black hair. The chap was tightly dressed wearing a clean, brown tunic, and similarly-hued leather pants, with posh, dark boots. He didn’t seem to be in much of a hurry, and he looked rather bored and expressionless. The man was heading up the road in the same direction Mariusz was travelling. Mariusz waited until the moment the man was about to walk past him.
“Excuse me.”
Mariusz waited to grab the man’s attention before he continued. The man subtly glanced at Mariusz, then casually raised his head in the other direction as if to suddenly take interest in the hubbub across the street. The man pondered at what was seemingly two men standing outside a townhouse having a conversation. After a few seconds he then looked ahead and continued on his way.
Mariusz stared at the man in disdain, jaw-clenched, as the lad continued to trot down the road as if nothing happened. The perceptive human didn’t miss the body language, and knew immediately that the man had ignored him. Mariusz was aware the Crown of the North housed many personalities, but in the hour or so he’d arrived in Waterdeep that was his first time engaging with somebody who wasn’t a merchant and it was less than pleasurable. He decided to turn back around and ask the meat merchant for directions.
Born and raised in Daggerford as an only child, the twenty-four year old had left his hometown for Waterdeep just four days prior, sticking close to The Trade Way as he travelled on foot all day and camped at night. Mariusz preferred his own company, dismissing an opportunity to travel with a caravan making its rounds to Waterdeep. Surely it would have been safer, but Mariusz chose privacy at the expense of what could have been a little excitement. However, his journey up to the City of Splendors proved uneventful, and he arrived at the city’s South Gate just a couple hours before sunset on his fourth day of travel.
Mariusz had little left for him back in Daggerford. His father, Radek, remained to watch the family farm, a sturdy cabin located in a northern hamlet outside the city. His family was by no means wealthy but they never struggled to get by, their modest farm providing a steady lifestyle. Mariusz respected and understood the necessity of his family’s work, but had trouble tolerating the sheer monotony farming required, and could never imagine dedicating his life to the craft. Radek had often discussed similar sentiments with him, but at a young age fathered Mariusz and was hard-pressed for work to help support his child. Mariusz knew in his youth that farm life wasn’t for him. His passion for the sword was supported by his father, and through extensive training Mariusz was admitted into Daggerford’s militia at age fourteen - not a requirement for able-bodied humans until the age of fifteen. Mariusz was somewhat of a prodigy with the sword at that age, but as he grew older rival peers would close the skill gap and his regard as the city’s top prospect squandered in the eyes of many. He was still an above-average swordsman and took immense pride in his training; Mariusz was humble as he was perceptive, and knew he still had lots to learn.
Fourteen months ago, Mariusz’s mother had passed away during a winter illness that had strongly affected Daggerford’s less-fortunate sector. Naturally, both Mariusz and his father were devastated by the tragedy. Mariusz since recovered from the heartbreak, but Radek not so much: just days prior to his trip to Waterdeep, Mariusz had once again been abruptly woken close to moondark by his father, tripping through the front door in a drunken stupor that had no doubt begun not long past dusk. For months, he’d made it a ritual to follow his weekly workday with a trip to the taproom, most occasions lasting well up until midnight. Radek had expressly insisted his drinking wasn’t excessive - but merely a temporary coping mechanism - however, Mariusz knew the situation to be more daunting. He truly sympathized with his father, but had practically given up on helping the man; he tried countless times talking to the old farmer, but his efforts soon became fruitless. Radek appreciated his son’s attempts to console him, but it was something he needed to get past on his own, which Mariusz quickly realized.
Mariusz hoped Radek would accompany him to Waterdeep, thinking it an escape his father needed, but alas, Radek politely declined the offer, wishing Mariusz the best of luck on his journey. Mariusz was heartbroken by his response. He not only felt guilt for leaving his father alone, but was wounded by the sheer solemnity and sincerity of Radek’s tone, obviously exaggerated to mask his pain (at least to Mariusz’s keen senses), and echoing a heartbroken man too consumed with pride to open up to the one person remaining in his life. However, the young man knew his father’s words to be sincere, and Radek truly did wish for his son to pursue his goals.
Mariusz clasped his hands and reached towards the sky, tugging his left hand with his right as if to target that limb specifically for relief, then yawned and lowered his arms as he regarded the way up the path deeper into the city.
The meat merchant had suggested an inn just up the road, an establishment called the Inn of The Dripping Dagger.
The Inn of The Dripping Dagger, Mariusz thought, allowing a smirk to slip across his ordinarily expressionless face as he melted into traffic on the High Road. He found the name amusing if not silly, but the upbeat proprietor insisted the tavern on being the best around, so much so that Mariusz suspected the man was receiving some sort of compensation for the boasted remarks.
Mariusz made his way up the road, and only a few minutes later spotted the distinctive inn. The merchant’s description of the building was quite accurate: stone gargoyles perched atop a flat roof, and the building itself was quite large, three-stories high and fifty feet long.
The sun had almost set, and as Mariusz approached the door he could hear the racket from within.
Mariusz hesitated, pondering on if he really wanted to enter the busy establishment. He was certainly thirsty, but perhaps this wasn’t the place for him and there was a less crowded tavern nearby. He liked to keep to himself after all, but then why did he come to Waterdeep in the first place? With a great sigh, Mariusz approached the door, walking through the open portal as a couple adventurers were leaving.
The Inn of The Dripping Dagger was bustling indeed, as patrons of all sorts filled most of the tables that dotted the grand common room, and many others leaned against the long bar rail, either gulping back their ale or calling to the barkeep for another.
Mariusz surveyed the area, immediately looking for a table he could claim as his own. He was quite weary after a long day’s travel and was keen for a place to sit, hoping to rest his sore legs.
There were a few open tables, but most of them were large and housed numerous chairs, certainly not spots Mariusz wished to claim.
Finally, he noticed some small, empty tables in the back of the smoky room, to the right of the bar and near a portal that led to a private meeting room.
Not many patrons were at that side of the tavern, and many of them were drinking alone - a couple drunks were passed out in their chairs, their upper bodies sprawled across the wooden tables. He even noticed one of the sleeping men with a full mug, having not a single nip before falling into his coma.
Looks like I’m joining the recluses, Mariusz mused smirking, brushing aside the nagging thought that he was one himself. At least he wasn’t one to imbibe himself silly.
He stopped at the bar to order his ale before taking his seat, not caring to bother one of the many barmaids who were busily milling about.
Mariusz finished his ale rather quickly, downing the golden drink in a half-dozen sips. He fished out of his pack a few copper pieces, ready to buy another. Mariusz had many silver and copper coins - some earned from the minimal work he did on his family’s farm, but many given to him by his father after his mother passed. He was by no means rich, but he’d been saving a tidy sum in anticipation of his trip, and the coin passed down by his mother was a considerable addition indeed.
Mariusz fetched himself another, and returned to his seat. He took a large sip, froth rimming his upper lip as he considered his course of action for the next day, not knowing where to begin his search for adventure. He spent some time ruminating, and eventually thought it prudent to ask the barkeep for recommendations. He would do so in the morning, wanting to spend the rest of the evening in relaxation.
A couple men in their thirties entered the tavern and took their seat just a few tables over from Mariusz. A few minutes later three other men joined, and the five were soon gulping back ales, eagerly chatting amongst themselves.
Mariusz figured them to be members of a guild, though he wasn’t sure which one. The men wore weathered, deep orange cloaks over fine leather armor, and swords were strapped across each of their hips. Dirt caked across their faces and necks, and thick, soiled boots suggested their work was laborious. The workers seemed to be regulars as they easily chatted up the barmaid who steadily kept the flow of ale coming their way.
Mariusz studied the group out of curiosity, taking great caution to do so undetected as he didn’t want to draw attention to himself.
He noticed one of the workers - a young man, clean-shaven with a round, eager face - trying exceptionally hard to fit in among his peers. On a couple occasions he would utter a simple-minded retort, his eyes lighting up in anticipation, but they were never met with the desired results, his comrades mostly brushing aside his remarks. On one extreme occasion he took the opportunity to carry the conversation himself, but was abruptly cut short mid-sentence by one of his louder coworkers, the older man utterly intercepting his attempt to join the conversation. The young man looked at his interrupting coworker solemnly and bowed his head to the side, a clear look of sharp pain etched across his soft features. Mariusz felt horrible for the man. He stared down the older bloke who had interfered, not even caring in that moment if the grubby fellow met his glaring gaze.
A minute later they all suddenly burst out in roaring laughter, a couple of them banging the table with their fists in appreciation of the quip that elicited their hearty mirth.
Mariusz took another gulp from his mug, his first sip in many minutes as he was already feeling the effects of the intoxicating beverage.
A trio of dwarfs then entered the tavern and promptly made their way directly to the bar. Mariusz perked up as they walked through the inn, thinking to know one of the stout fellows. Hjall’rik Claystrong, he thought, recognizing one of the dwarfs to be an old friend from Daggerford. He couldn’t believe it. Hjall’rik had left Daggerford when Mariusz was just a teen. A good friend of his father’s, the dwarf had sometimes assisted Mariusz in his training, even showing the young man a few tricks and moves. Mariusz couldn’t contain the wide grin that spread across his soft face.
He gulped back the rest of his drink, then got up and made his way toward the dwarfs, passing by a pretty barmaid who fluttered her eyes at the young man’s approach.
He stopped a few paces away, not wanting to immediately interrupt the friends who were already in conversation.
Hjall’rik motioned to the barkeep, then regarded the young dwarf to his left.
“Yer gonna’ live up to yer name for once Brackenstout, an’ have a few,” Hjall’rik said to the dwarf, who had distinctively light facial hair for one of his kind, just a thin brown beard that curled up his face and up to his sideburns. He was very tall for a dwarf, easily standing a couple inches over five feet, and his eyes were lively and bright blue, another feature Mariusz thought noteworthy.
“Oi, hand ‘em over,” Brackenstout replied somewhat reluctantly, but it was clear from the sparkle in his eyes that the young dwarf was eager to drink anyway.
“The trip o’head be surely long, an’ we ain’t gonna’ have many chances for a good night o’ drink, so make the most o’ it tonight. Drinks on me!” Hjall’rik handed his friends each a mug and subsequently downed half of his in a single gulp. He followed up with a large belch, cursed, then took another large swallow, practically finishing his drink within moments.
Mariusz was truly amused, not remembering Hjall’rik to be so much of a drinker. He was still an adolescent when he had met the hearty dwarf and was likely ignorant to his disposition, not having fully matured until over a year after the dwarf’s departure from Daggerford.
Mariusz joined the trio at the bar, clearing his throat to announce his presence, and looked square at Hjall’rik, smiling.
He was met with an incredulous stare.
"An’ yerself?” Hjall’rik inquired, clearly not recognizing his old human friend.
Mariusz couldn’t help himself from smirking.
“Oi, be somethin’ funny?” Hjall’rik said. Brackenstout eyed Mariusz carefully, and the third dwarf postered up, widening his shoulders as he stared at Mariusz threateningly.
“It’s me, Mariusz Stackmeir of Daggerford. Well met.”
Slowly, Hjall’rik’s eyes widened. They continued to expand until it seemed as if they were going to burst out of his sockets.
“Mariusz!” It really be ye lad! I hardly recognized ye, yer so old!”
The old friend threw down his mug and hugged the young man, squeezing him tight for a second before recoiling back to arm’s length.
“I could say the same for you,” Mariusz quipped, smiling as he regarded the joyous expression that was slapped across the young dwarf’s face.
“Bah, I don’t look a day older from last we met. What brings ye here? How’s old Radek fairin’? He here with ye?”
Mariusz smiled, amused at the dwarf’s rapid line of questioning.
“Well, currently enjoying some ales,” he replied. “Nah, he’s not with me, though I wish he were. He’s holding down the farm. And he’s been better, though he’s in good health which is more than enough for me. How have you been old friend?”
“Ah, the old fart’s been cooped up all his life, that’s a shame. Good to hear he’s well though.”
Hjall’rik stepped back to the rail and called for the barkeep, then turned back to regard Mariusz.
“Oi, I’ve been good. Come drink with us. Let us catch up an’ I’ll introduce ye to me friends.”
Hjall’rik turned to Brackenstout and gave him a playful shove.
“Oi, back up an’ make some room for me old friend, will ye?"
The tall dwarf nodded repeatedly and made some room for Mariusz, offering him a warm smile as he backed away.
Mariusz smiled back, and joined the dwarfs at the rail. He loathed the thought of standing all night but wasn’t about to complain, the stoic human appreciating the opportunity to catch up with an old friend.
Hjall’rik ordered another round and slid a mug over to Mariusz.
“Thanks,” Mariusz said. “I’m afraid I’ve already had a couple, and rather quickly at that, but I’ll do my best to keep up.”
“Bah, if yer anythin’ like yer father, ye’ll down six in no time. An’ don’t ye worry about coin, as I’ve told the boys, I’m buyin’ tonight!”
Mariusz thought the remark curious, not knowing his father to drink, not until his mother’s passing.
“Well, thank you,” he replied. “Much appreciated. You guys celebrating something?”
Mariusz already knew they were hitting the road, but from an outside perspective it certainly looked as if they were celebrating, and he didn’t want to give any indication that he had eavesdropped.
It suddenly occurred to Mariusz that he might join the dwarfs on their adventure. His mood lifted at the possibility of questing so quickly, and with a friend at that.
“In a sense,” Hjall’rik replied as he let out a small burp. “We be settin’ off fer Gildenglade tomorrow. Durn long road ahead, won’t be findin’ many opportunities to indulge properly on the way. Me friend here gots some family in trouble, an’ we plan to help.” He motioned towards the third dwarf as he spoke of him. He was visibly older than Brackenstout and Hjall’rik; thick eye crinkles betrayed the dwarf’s age, though they were almost buried by his unruly black beard which practically consumed his entire face, as only his upper cheeks and forehead were bare of the wild facial hair. He was also bald, which provided quite the contrast to his furry face. He was shorter than the others, standing a few inches over four feet, and his hazel eyes were hard, suggesting many years of tribulations. He certainly didn’t look very friendly, nothing like the Brackenstout fellow, Mariusz thought.
“Which reminds me,” Hjall’rik continued, “this be Galderak Jadehall, and me tall friend here be Trigg Brackenstout.”
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"Surrender now, or we will slay you!" the leader of the creatures called, a bit louder and more forcefully.
"A moment, please, my friend," Zasian said, motioning to the dwarf for patience. "We are discussing your terms."
"Ye heading off with Invo . . . Inno . . . that durned elf?" |
Edited by - Scimitars of Drizzt on 17 Jun 2020 02:27:01
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George Krashos
Master of Realmslore
Australia
6666 Posts |
Posted - 11 Jun 2020 : 00:25:05
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Just a question: are you writing this for fun or are you looking to write professionally and get published one day?
-- George Krashos |
"Because only we, contrary to the barbarians, never count the enemy in battle." -- Aeschylus |
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Scimitars of Drizzt
Seeker
Canada
77 Posts |
Posted - 11 Jun 2020 : 01:28:00
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quote:
Originally posted by George Krashos
Just a question: are you writing this for fun or are you looking to write professionally and get published one day?
-- George Krashos
I certainly don't expect to get published professionally, especially in the Realms. I suppose you could say for fun. Though, at the least I would like to try self-publishing the book, and just changing all the names so I'm not violating copyright.
Thank you for the reply George. Let me know what you think. |
"Surrender now, or we will slay you!" the leader of the creatures called, a bit louder and more forcefully.
"A moment, please, my friend," Zasian said, motioning to the dwarf for patience. "We are discussing your terms."
"Ye heading off with Invo . . . Inno . . . that durned elf?" |
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Scimitars of Drizzt
Seeker
Canada
77 Posts |
Posted - 12 Jun 2020 : 23:04:51
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O.K, I'm guessing it's really lacking somewhere and people are just being nice by not saying anything at all. I know it's quite long, so maybe nobody has just suffered through it yet, but I'll take anything at this point. I can understand if nobody has read all the way through, but perhaps I'm being too hard on myself. Thanks!
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"Surrender now, or we will slay you!" the leader of the creatures called, a bit louder and more forcefully.
"A moment, please, my friend," Zasian said, motioning to the dwarf for patience. "We are discussing your terms."
"Ye heading off with Invo . . . Inno . . . that durned elf?" |
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Kentinal
Great Reader
4688 Posts |
Posted - 17 Jun 2020 : 16:41:55
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quote:
Originally posted by Scimitars of Drizzt
O.K, I'm guessing it's really lacking somewhere and people are just being nice by not saying anything at all. I know it's quite long, so maybe nobody has just suffered through it yet, but I'll take anything at this point. I can understand if nobody has read all the way through, but perhaps I'm being too hard on myself. Thanks!
Some of us might not feel up to be a critic.
I found both chapters interesting to read. I would like to see how it all ends up.
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"Small beings can have small wisdom," the dragon said. "And small wise beings are better than small fools. Listen: Wisdom is caring for afterwards."
"Caring for afterwards ...? Ker repeated this without understanding.
"After action, afterwards," the dragon said. "Choose the afterwards first, then the action. Fools choose action first."
"Judgement" copyright 2003 by Elizabeth Moon |
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Scimitars of Drizzt
Seeker
Canada
77 Posts |
Posted - 17 Jun 2020 : 19:51:39
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quote:
Originally posted by Kentinal
quote:
Originally posted by Scimitars of Drizzt
O.K, I'm guessing it's really lacking somewhere and people are just being nice by not saying anything at all. I know it's quite long, so maybe nobody has just suffered through it yet, but I'll take anything at this point. I can understand if nobody has read all the way through, but perhaps I'm being too hard on myself. Thanks!
Some of us might not feel up to be a critic.
I found both chapters interesting to read. I would like to see how it all ends up.
True, and it's totally fair, I don't think I'd be up to critic someone's work myself, so I don't blame anybody. Thank you for the comment, very much appreciated. I was told some of my character names aren't very fitting in a FR setting, and the more I think about it they might be right. Droldzas is kind of awkward to say. Anyway, thanks a bunch. |
"Surrender now, or we will slay you!" the leader of the creatures called, a bit louder and more forcefully.
"A moment, please, my friend," Zasian said, motioning to the dwarf for patience. "We are discussing your terms."
"Ye heading off with Invo . . . Inno . . . that durned elf?" |
Edited by - Scimitars of Drizzt on 17 Jun 2020 19:52:05 |
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Kusghuul
Acolyte
Norway
33 Posts |
Posted - 18 Jun 2020 : 12:10:53
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| Could you make a google docs instead? Candlekeep isn't exactly tailored for the posting of chapter-length stuff :) |
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Scimitars of Drizzt
Seeker
Canada
77 Posts |
Posted - 19 Jun 2020 : 20:45:13
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quote:
Originally posted by Kusghuul
Could you make a google docs instead? Candlekeep isn't exactly tailored for the posting of chapter-length stuff :)
That's true, I'll probably do that if I decide to share more, once I have it written. Thanks for the comment! |
"Surrender now, or we will slay you!" the leader of the creatures called, a bit louder and more forcefully.
"A moment, please, my friend," Zasian said, motioning to the dwarf for patience. "We are discussing your terms."
"Ye heading off with Invo . . . Inno . . . that durned elf?" |
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Thoughts on my Realms Novel
