Post by Daae on Feb 15, 2005 0:36:59 GMT -5
I'm hoping to get some feedback on the novel-in-progress I'm working on. The genre is fantasy, sort of. I'm not using magic, or fantasic creatures, but it doesn't take place on Earth, and, well...yeah. I'm not quite sure how the explain it.
Silvery blue light from the full moon gave the castle an otherworldly glow. It also illuminated the figure that dropped lithely from the ramparts to the courtyard below. It was a tall figure, with dark hair restrained by a leather tie and a face that turned women’s heads. Glancing up at the guards he sprinted across the courtyard to the low wooden door on the other side. After making short work of the lock, he slipped into the shadowy inside.
Once inside, the young man looked around the darkened hall at the many prison cells. After a few moments searching he found what he was looking for. In a cell on the far end of the short row sat a man with short salt and pepper hair and tattered clothes. Reaching into the slim pouch at his side, the young man pulled out several lock picks and began to work on the lock. Within minutes he heard a click and pushed the door open. The older man, whose back was to the door, turned, surprise written on his face.
“Gabriel! What the devil are you doing here?” he nearly shouted. Gabriel pressed a finger to his lips, and smiled mischievously.
“Save your curses for when we’re out of here Joseph.”
The older man, Joseph, was about to protest when they heard the prison guard waking up. One look was all he needed before joining the younger Gabriel in the hallway. As silently as they could, the two men ran from the prison and out onto the courtyard. Hugging the rough stone wall they made their way over to where Gabriel’s men waited. A sharp, short whistle brought a rope tumbling down from the ramparts. The two men, disguised as royal guards, motioned for the two below to hurry. Joseph grasped the rope in both hands, and began pulling himself up.
“So I dodge the headman’s axe only to kill myself in the escape. Beautiful,” he muttered, glaring down at Gabriel’s silently laughing form.
As soon as the older man was up and over the wall, Gabriel began to climb the rope. Before he got halfway up, the rope went slack, sending him tumbling to the ground. Scrambling to his feet, Gabriel looked up and saw that the two men above him were slumped down on the ramparts, arrows protruding from their chests. Seconds later he heard the real royal guards shouting and calling for more archers. Gabriel flinched as a red fletched arrow grazed his cheek. Praying that Joseph was already gone, he ran for the guard tower, bowling over a soldier and taking his sword on the way. The solid oak door burst open and more soldiers streamed out. Gabriel continued his mad rush forward, muscling his way through the armored troops. Finally inside he bolted for the spiraling staircase, taking the stairs two at a time. He was about to reach for the door handle, when it was wrenched open from the outside. Gabriel found himself facing down a large group of soldiers with swords and pikes leveled at him. Whirling around to retreat back down the stairs, he found himself again at sword point. One of the men, a captain by the look of his armor, stepped forward.
“Gabriel Woodsmoke, you are under arrest, by order of His Royal Highness, Prince Nicolae of Silvae. And I suggest that you come quietly. I may want to see you ripped to pieces and scattered to the eight winds, but His Highness wants you in one piece.
Gabriel grimaced slightly.
“I would hate to see the prince disappointed,” he said with mock sincerity.
The captain gave a mirthless smile and slapped Gabriel with the back of his gauntleted hand. Gabriel staggered back a step, a red welt growing on the side of his face. The captain smiled cruelly and gave a nod to the soldiers behind Gabriel, who wrenched his arms behind his back and marched him off to the royal study.
Prince Nicolae III was a tall man, cold and pale as the snow capped peaks of the RiverWhite Mountains. His ice blue eyes stared moodily at the stained glass window as he spun a dagger on his desk.
This is only a tiny bit of the beginning. I might put more up later.
Silvery blue light from the full moon gave the castle an otherworldly glow. It also illuminated the figure that dropped lithely from the ramparts to the courtyard below. It was a tall figure, with dark hair restrained by a leather tie and a face that turned women’s heads. Glancing up at the guards he sprinted across the courtyard to the low wooden door on the other side. After making short work of the lock, he slipped into the shadowy inside.
Once inside, the young man looked around the darkened hall at the many prison cells. After a few moments searching he found what he was looking for. In a cell on the far end of the short row sat a man with short salt and pepper hair and tattered clothes. Reaching into the slim pouch at his side, the young man pulled out several lock picks and began to work on the lock. Within minutes he heard a click and pushed the door open. The older man, whose back was to the door, turned, surprise written on his face.
“Gabriel! What the devil are you doing here?” he nearly shouted. Gabriel pressed a finger to his lips, and smiled mischievously.
“Save your curses for when we’re out of here Joseph.”
The older man, Joseph, was about to protest when they heard the prison guard waking up. One look was all he needed before joining the younger Gabriel in the hallway. As silently as they could, the two men ran from the prison and out onto the courtyard. Hugging the rough stone wall they made their way over to where Gabriel’s men waited. A sharp, short whistle brought a rope tumbling down from the ramparts. The two men, disguised as royal guards, motioned for the two below to hurry. Joseph grasped the rope in both hands, and began pulling himself up.
“So I dodge the headman’s axe only to kill myself in the escape. Beautiful,” he muttered, glaring down at Gabriel’s silently laughing form.
As soon as the older man was up and over the wall, Gabriel began to climb the rope. Before he got halfway up, the rope went slack, sending him tumbling to the ground. Scrambling to his feet, Gabriel looked up and saw that the two men above him were slumped down on the ramparts, arrows protruding from their chests. Seconds later he heard the real royal guards shouting and calling for more archers. Gabriel flinched as a red fletched arrow grazed his cheek. Praying that Joseph was already gone, he ran for the guard tower, bowling over a soldier and taking his sword on the way. The solid oak door burst open and more soldiers streamed out. Gabriel continued his mad rush forward, muscling his way through the armored troops. Finally inside he bolted for the spiraling staircase, taking the stairs two at a time. He was about to reach for the door handle, when it was wrenched open from the outside. Gabriel found himself facing down a large group of soldiers with swords and pikes leveled at him. Whirling around to retreat back down the stairs, he found himself again at sword point. One of the men, a captain by the look of his armor, stepped forward.
“Gabriel Woodsmoke, you are under arrest, by order of His Royal Highness, Prince Nicolae of Silvae. And I suggest that you come quietly. I may want to see you ripped to pieces and scattered to the eight winds, but His Highness wants you in one piece.
Gabriel grimaced slightly.
“I would hate to see the prince disappointed,” he said with mock sincerity.
The captain gave a mirthless smile and slapped Gabriel with the back of his gauntleted hand. Gabriel staggered back a step, a red welt growing on the side of his face. The captain smiled cruelly and gave a nod to the soldiers behind Gabriel, who wrenched his arms behind his back and marched him off to the royal study.
Prince Nicolae III was a tall man, cold and pale as the snow capped peaks of the RiverWhite Mountains. His ice blue eyes stared moodily at the stained glass window as he spun a dagger on his desk.
This is only a tiny bit of the beginning. I might put more up later.
Twyrch /|\
