Final Battle Plans

This final battle is supposed to be really intense. I am not a big battle scene kind of gal though. I kind of think that it is a necessary evil. I have a very hard time getting into it. I prefer writing all the other stuff, but war is not my writing forte. I guess I better get over it or I will never finish this book. Anyone have some good ideas on how to free up my time to finish it?

Is the end always the hardest?

I have been working on my story for so long that now I am trying to figure out the best way to end it. I have the dungeon mapped out in my head and the encounter, just trying to figure out what to do with some characters. Do you think someone has to die for it to be good?

What To Do Now?

Hello readers!

So, I have finally decided where I am going to stop this book. Don't get the wrong idea, the crew of misfits in this first book still have many adventures to experience, but I have to put a break in somewhere. Once I do that, then what? I want to publish, but how do you copyright so no one can steal it? Anyone have any ideas?

Simple Beginnings

This is the beginning of chapter one of a story I have been writing a long time. I am actually up to 145 pages. I am getting to a tedious part where I am trying to decide where I am going with it. Anyway, I am not sure if it is safe to post this here where someone else can steal it, but I hope you like it anyway.

Shadou had run the guildmaster's gauntlet for the fifteenth time and she had once again failed to complete it. By this time her fellow guildies stopped offering her advice and just shook their heads. They told her to give up and save her skin. She had just completed four hours in the infirmary being pumped full of antidotes for the many poisons she consumed. The spike trap was going to leave a nasty mark and that pit trap had caused her to sprain her ankle. If only she could see the little details all the others saw. Sadly she was better at diplomacy than finding traps and diplomacy did not always keep you alive. Her hands shook as she stumbled into the local bar in search of a stiff drink that would shock her system into normalcy. She did a quick sweep of the bar and groaned to herself. Silk was there. She turned to leave but his voice broke through the din and everyone hushed to listen.

"Ah, Shadou, come and I will buy you a drink that won't kill you."

Laughter rang out amidst pointed and rude comments. She stiffened her shoulders, pasted a smile on her face and turned to face him.

"The only thing you ever feed me is poison Silk."

He gave a fake pout and reached out to take her hand. She half sauntered and half stumbled past him with a growl, pushing his hand away. He was the biggest braggart she had ever met, but he knew his alcohol and that was what she needed tonight. He called for two Bloodwyne and she winced at the thought of drinking anyone or anything's blood.

"I am pretty sure that is poison you lush."

He just smirked at her and handed her the glass. He toasted her constitution and ability to escape death repeatedly before downing his own glass in several loud and obnoxious gulps. She looked into the glass with a sick feeling and then shrugged and drank it down without breathing. Oddly enough it seemed to strengthen her and the alcohol was more evident than the blood. Silk place an arm over her shoulders and led her to a table. She hesitated to sit with him and then decided she would be better off not standing more than necessary. She took the seat across from him so that she could watch his every move and studied the man before her. He was arrogant in the extreme. What kind of a name was Silk anyway? She had already lived 120 years and seen his type all over the realm. His kind turned her stomach to say the least.

He pulled out a deck of cards and set them on the table. "Something safe for you this evening…" He smiled at her, cocking his head as he waited for an answer.

"One hand to test your skill Silk and then I will be going."

He nodded and shuffled the deck before dealing them out. Each of them set a silver piece on the table before picking up their cards and finding their best neutral face. She was more than pleased with her hand and she looked up at Silk waiting. He was studying his cards a bit too much. Trying to find something out of nothing wasn't an easy task. She shuffled her cards in her hand and then sat back in her chair and waited some more. The poison had taken a lot out of her and she was feeling the need to rest overwhelming. She set her head against the back of the chair and watched Silk with a yawn.

She stretched out in the cold stillness and pulled the blanket tight around her. She stopped still and then sat up quickly her eyes popping open before squinting in the morning sun. She looked around herself in a panic. Where the hell was she and how did she get here? She patted herself down and was relieved to find that she still possessed most of her belongings. She found the rest of her things in a corner near the sumptuous bed she was lying on. Ok, now she was really panicking. She slid out of the bed, grabbed her boots and put them on. She felt for the dagger in her sleeve and pulled it out. She crept to the door and opened it a crack listening carefully. Someone was downstairs making enough noise to be heard. She crept along the railing and peeked over the edge finding Silk with his back to her doing something. She relaxed a bit. Something smelled good so she walked down the stairs and cleared her throat.

Silk turned and smiled at her. "Finally woke up I see. I am not used to women falling asleep in my presence." He walked over and held out his hand where two silver coins sat. "You won by the way. Nice hand you had there. With such a rough day I figured I wouldn't take advantage because you fell asleep."

Shadou palmed the coins and stuck them in her pocket. "How decent of you, I promise I won't tell anyone. We wouldn't want to ruin your reputation. What are you making?"

He smirked and motioned towards the wood stove. "It's all safe. Foods that will help bring your energy back for certain. Are you gonna keep pointing that knife at my belly or do you want to eat?"

She looked down at her blade and snorted, putting it away. "It's habit. How did I get here and where are we by the way?"

"Well,” he said, “I carried you out of the bar over my shoulder like a drunken tavern wench and brought you home."

She glared at him and found a seat at the table with a huff. "No doubt you let everyone think you were going to have your way with me too."

Silk pouted in mock offense and then laughed. "I do have my reputation to think about."

Shadou growled and flipped the dagger out of her hand at him. Just in time he brought up the skillet, dropping the bacon, grease and all down his front as the blade pinged off the metal and onto the floor. He glared up at her while pulling his shirt away from his chest.

"You feisty ungrateful wench, what is your problem?"

"My problem is you, and your reputation. You keep your breakfast and don't do me any more favors.”

“What breakfast? It's on the floor now isn't it thanks to you.” Shadou glared at him before pulling her things together.

"I will make sure everyone thinks you are horrible!" His mouth dropped open in shock before laughing out loud.

"Honey, too many people know otherwise and they will only conclude that it must be you who is horrible."

He was howling with laughter while Shadou huffed, grabbed her things and rushed out of the door.

A Heart's Desire

I wrote this one for my love Dave Duerksen who passed away within the last few months. Many knew him as Blackhawk, but he will always be "my" Hawk to me. Makiereth is modeled after our close friend and brother Chris "Redbeard" Ungurean. I re-wrote this story to make it shorter for a contest I was entering in 2010.

A Heart’s Desire

Morna Blood sat on a sea-soaked rock on the edge of the island, looking out to sea. Off to the side of the island, the Blood Reign sat in the bay. Her men were camped on the shore nearby. It had been years since she felt so torn, tears slipping down her cheeks silently. At the sound of footsteps she brushed the tears away quickly. A freckled hand touched her shoulder before Makiereth turned her into his hug. She hugged him back. Mak had been her first mate a good four years now. He really was the best, but then, he wasn’t just a first mate, he was family. If anyone knew of her love for Cynric Black, he did. Cynric Black, or Captain Blackhawk, had taught her everything she knew about the sea before he retired to follow his dream of a family. The story was that family never found him and he was alone, wasting away in a little shanty town at the edge of the world. She had sought him out years ago, but soon enough she wished she had left things alone. She stayed with him that night and during a long night’s kisses he had asked her to stay with him. He professed his love again to her, but life still stood in the way. She could not leave the sea, and he would not return to it.

“It isn’t fair Mak. Why does life deal us such short straws,” she asked Makiereth.

“There are just more short straws than long ones in the world Cap’n. Nothin you or I can do will change that,” he murmured into her hair.

Before he could say another word a gull screeched overhead. It wheeled above them before dropping from the air and lighting on the sandy beach next to them. They stared at the bird for a moment before Makiereth reached down to retrieve the note from its leg. The gull pecked at him and he drew his hand back cursing.

“Blast, there are only two people in this world that bird likes. You are going to have to get it Cap’n.”

Morna reached over and gathered the bird to her on her lap. It settled on her knees while she pulled the note from it leg. Once she had the note, she scratched the bird’s head gently and it flew off towards the ship. Unrolling the parchment she began to read, wiping the remaining tears from her cheeks. Makiereth saw her freeze in mid-swipe, her eyes becoming panicked and hard. He watched as her eyes flew over the remainder of the note and the horror in her face grew, startling him. Before she had finished reading she stood and ran towards the ship, shouting instructions for them to board and make way for a portal jump. Mak was really worried now. She was too emotional and too tired to pull a port jump, and yet whatever was in that note had her willing to try. It was so unlike her he had to protest.

 “Cap’n, wait, we shouldn’t do this now!”

She kept running and she wasn’t listening to him at all. She just kept shouting at the bewildered men who were trying to scurry to her demands. Makiereth caught up with her and spun her to face him.

“What the bleeding deep is wrong with you? You know you can’t pull a port jump when you are like this.”

She pushed him away and snarled, “I have to. My Captain needs me. Blackhawk is in danger of hanging this afternoon.”

She thrust the letter at him.

“I say NO! I say, he will not die today! So, Mak, get your arse onto that ship and make ready! That is an order!”

Now Mak was in motion. Cynric was one of his closest friends, and even though helping her do this was going directly against his promises to Cynric, he could not help himself. This was going to be dangerous and if they didn’t lose her as well as Cynric, they would be lucky.

Once aboard, Captain Morna Blood, called the wind to their sails, sweeping the heavy ship out to sea. Makiereth stood at the helm, his hand firm on the wheel as Morna stood at the fore, her arms outstretched to the sky. He prayed and prayed as she raised the power needed for the port jump. The air before the ship shivered and then rent like a heavy tear in fabric. A gaping hole stood before them and Makiereth maneuvered them through the opening ahead. The hold shivered and danced, shrank and stretched. This was exactly what Mak was afraid of. Could she hold the portal steady long enough? Would it drain her to death to do it? His prayers renewed in earnest as the figurehead, in the shape of a reaper with double blades drawn, slipped through the hole. It seemed forever until the stern slipped through the hole. He heard the audible snap behind him as the portal closed and watched in horror as Morna stumbled astern before collapsing on the deck. Cinder was there before Mak could call him, trying to rouse their captain. Cinder raised worried eyes to who turned the wheel over to a nearby crewman. Mak ran to where he held Morna as cannon fire broke, leaden balls falling heavily into the sea around the ship. Mak called for the men to throw up shields until they could no longer hold them. Cinder took Mak’s wrist, placed a hand over Morna’s heart and transferred strength from one to the other. Mak cried out, the pain was excruciating and it was all he could do to breathe. Cannonballs battered the shields around the ship. The shields were taking a beating as they wavered in the sunlight. Morna forced herself to stand and assess the damages. The shields would be coming down soon.

“Hard to starboard master Prill,” she yelled to the burly man who had a death grip on the wheel.

He turned to look at her in surprise and relief. She staggered towards the helm.

“Wake up man, hard to Starboard! Let us show these buffoons who they attack! Bring out the guns, load them up men! Prepare to fire!”

Prill was turning the heavy ship to starboard as the guns were brought about.

“Prepare to drop shields on my mark,” Morna yelled. One of the men holding the shields dropped to the deck leaving a hole in them. “Drop shields now! Fire those guns! Take the buggers down,” she yelled.

Morna assembled select men and shouted orders. “Prepare to rift walk. Pick your destination carefully; you don’t want to become one with a tree. Find Captain Blackhawk and escort him to the ship. Once he is here, send the signal to clear the shores. This is strictly a rescue mission, no spoils today else you find yourself left behind. Ready? Let us be about it then!”

They concentrated and found themselves on shore. Morna pulled her sword and her musket from her belt, and peeked around the corner. She took aim and fired at the nearest guard. He dropped like a stone to the sand. Adrenaline surged as she drove forward, bringing her sword up to block her opponent’s swing. Another guard came towards her and as she dodged his blade, she cracked him over the head with her musket. She parried a thrust towards her mid-section just as one of her men engaged the other two guards. Concentrating on her opponent she made short work of him and ran to the door. Bursting into the building; she found another guard rushing towards her and swayed, almost falling. The fact that Mak transferred part of his life force to her, told her she had been near dead. She was risking it all for the man she loved. She steadied herself and drove her blade through the guard’s neck and kicked him away from herself. The man fell like a broken doll to the floor. She was too weak to retrieve her sword settling for the keys before scanning the cells. Cynric was staring straight at her.

“Ah lass, you are a sight for sore eyes,” he said as he smiled.

She unlocked the cell door and literally fell into his arms. “Cap’n,” yelled a man that had rushed into the building. “Aye,” Cynric said as he held Morna in his arms. The man nodded to him. “We need to go Sir.” They linked arms and appeared on the deck with an audible pop.

Mak sent the flare up and the rest of Morna’s men popped back on deck. He ran to the stern and groaned at the approach of three warships from their only escape route. The warships were closing in and there was no way this ship was going to survive more damage. Mak looked the ship over for the one person who might be able to get them out of here.

“Elena, front and center girl,” Mak yelled.

A young girl of 5 summers ran to him. Morna was gray and shivering and she had lost body mass burned up in the magic. Cynric held her like she was a fragile doll.

“El, you are going to have to do a port jump,” Mak said.

Elena’s eyes widened, looked at her mother and shook her head no.

“There is no other way girl, or we will all die here in this bay. I have seen you practice and you can do this. You are very powerful darlin.”

Biting her lip, the small girl knelt by her mother and took her hand gently. She swallowed to remove the lump in her throat and pulled the power through. The renewed cannon fire quickened her pulse as she opened the portal with a loud wobbling pop. The portal was misshapen and unsure of itself, but Prill wasted no time sailing through it. Once the stern cleared the portal, Elena let it drop. She smiled shyly at Mak who patted her head.

“Good job lass,” he said.

Makiereth tried to take Morna’s body from Cynric, but the man glared at him and walked away carrying her emaciated body to her cabin. Mak followed silently. Mak watched as Blackhawk gently laid her on the bed, swept the hair from her brow and made her comfortable. Mak and Cynric exchanged a look and Mak stepped outside to give them privacy.

Cynric pulled a stool close to her bed and sat down, taking her hand in his.

“Is mommy ok,” asked a tiny girl voice.

He turned to look and saw the little blonde girl from before, her eyes wide and full of tears.

“She will be little one, she just needs rest. How old are you lass?”

She walked over, slid into his lap and sniffed. “I’m five,” she said.

He smiled, “What a brave girl you are for five.”

She smiled at that and said, “My mommy taught me every day. She said I have spirit.”

”Ah, that you do lass, and now we just need to be brave while mommy rests, eh?”

He ruffled her hair and kissed her brow. A gravelly voice broke in, “I am glad you two are getting along love.”

He turned to Morna and smiled. “Of course we are. How are you feeling?”

“Like I have gone through hell and back again, but I must tell you; she is yours Cynric. You can have that family you want, but you have to come back to the sea.”

He looked down into the eyes of the little girl and found his eyes stared back up at him from a tiny little face. “Five years?” He thought back realizing it had been about that long since he and Morna had been together last. The little girl flashed a smile so like Morna’s, it melted his heart. He hugged the girl tight and looked into his love’s eyes. “Truly lass?”

She nodded, “Truly.”

Will I Ever Finish?

I have been writing since 1996, but I have yet to finish a complete work. Well, ok, so I have submitted some short stories for some contests. I didn't win, but I learned some things along the way. One of the hardest ones for me was the 100 words of less competition and yet I did really well on that one. Go figure! This is what I posted for that contest in 2010.

Home

Strong arms hold me tight. A familiar musky scent envelopes me. Fingers curl through my hair. My heart tightens in joy at the familiarity. Lips brush my cheek gently. A comforting voice speaks my name. The arms tighten around me carefully, words of gentle promise whisper to me. The terror is over. I was rescued only a few short hours ago. Skid marks on wet pavement, mixed with mangled metal on the road. Flashing lights and sirens blare in my memory. No bruises, no broken bones were found. I am safe now. I am loved. I am home.

I haven't submitted anything since 2010 since life got so hectic afterwards. Sometimes it seems like I spend more time revising and editing than I do writing. Spelling and grammer errors drive me crazy when I read so I don't want others to deal with them.