The Elven Thieves Chronicles

[RenaissanceInBlood]

Okay, I am writing a book, called The Elven Thieves Chronicles, Book 1: The Black Tower. I am going to post the preface and the first chapter here. Comments are appreciated as long as they're nice. This is my first novel, and I haven't even gotten halfway through with it yet. I've been going at it for about... 3 years maybe. Anyway, the first chapter is kind of short, but I hope ya like it. It's a romance/fantasy/horror thing.









      Preface:


The high black tower stood surrounded by a massive forest, that was very dense and  foreboding. The stone structure was surrounded by a high fence; this also was made of stone. On the tops of some of the stones were iron spikes, and on these, dead or in the process of dying women; these people were just carelessly tossed out of the upper laboratory windows, to their deaths. A few corpses were being eaten by the forest's denizens. The women's blood dripped from them, cascading down the sharp spikes, to run down the walls. Most of it was dried, and in the moonlight, it looked almost black.

In the laboratory high above the fence, an old wizard looked down upon the great stone wall. His stooped and ancient figure looked almost death-like. His eyes were dark pools of pure evil, his long hair was  matted, and dirty gray. He had a beard which reached all the way to his belly. This gray thing was caked with dried blood, cobwebs, maggots, grease, and who knew what. His hands were like claws, with long and sharp fingernails. In them he held an ancient staff; the jewel at the top looked like an eyeball, and was grotesque. The old man's clothing was in a state of disrepair. His robe was in tatters, black and again, evil looking.

The old man was called Andraklon, and was feared by all who had heard of his vile deeds. Those who spoke of him did so in a whisper, barely audible. Andraklon had destroyed many civilizations in his younger days. He could still destroy anything he chose, but lately, all he wished for was blood. Blood to feed upon. To restore his youth. To restore the powers that he had once had, long ago.

He turned away from the window, and walked with some difficulty to his throne, which was made of skulls he himself had brought in to the lab. There were hundreds of human heads and skulls making up the throne. There, a woman's head, her scalp removed, and her face a contorted mass of blood. A man's skull grinned at him, it's eyes hollow, and empty. Andraklon grinned. He settled down on the throne, stroking a little elf's head, and licking the dry blood off of his fingers.

A knock at the door sounded, then it opened up, revealing a black haired female servant in a lacy white robe carrying an evil looking  decorative platter, upon which stood his dinner: A freshly cooked brain, with a garnish of human eyeballs. She sat the platter down on the arm of his throne, bowed, then turned and started to walk away. Andraklon grabbed her arm, his icy cold skin burning her flesh. She cried out, and he suddenly leaped up off of his throne, and bit her throat, the blood gushing all over his face. She tried to scream, but made no sound, as he ripped her throat out.

She died almost immediately, as the wizard sucked her blood with a pure madness borne of hell. He picked her up then, placing her on a bone altar in front of the throne. He drew a black knife from inside of his robes. This was also very evil looking. It's blade, and handle were black. On the hilt were ancient runes. He laid this knife alongside of the young girl, and ripped her dress off. Her corpse lay bare in the moonlight, which was shining through a portal in the ceiling. The evil wizard picked up the black knife, and stabbed her through the heart. He then cut her wrists, and ankles, and her blood drained into grooves that trailed to a corner of the table, where sat vats at the ends of the altar. Andraklon sat on his throne, fingering the black chalice, which was upon the tray with the brain on it. He waited until her corpse dripped out the last of the blood. He then got up, and dipped the chalice into the vat, and drank it. Feeling renewed, he picked up the dead girl with one hand, by the neck, and tossed her from the window, to land with a spike through her stomach. He grinned. How he loved watching the denizens of the wood deal with corpses!




            Chapter One: The Corpse and The Gold

   The city was noisy and Dremma did not like it very much. Like most elves, she loved the forest. She tried to avoid cities and towns most of the time whenever possible, but she needed supplies, and this was one of those times. She stepped into a store called 'Meldorian's – Supplies'.

Dremma saw it was empty, except for the store owner, who was a heavy-set, balding old man, who sat on a wooden stool behind the counter. He was carving a small bird out of a block of wood. He looked up as she walked up, and opened the door and smiled. "Hi there! Lemme know if you need sumthin'." Dremma smiled as she pulled a list from her belt pouch and gave it to the old man.

He sat the small bird and his knife down on the counter, and pulled his glasses out of a tunic pocket. He read the list, and looked at her over the top of them. "Be a few moments. Have a cracker while ya wait, hm?" He pointed to a barrel filled with some salt crackers by the counter. Dremma smiled and nodded. The old man got up, grabbed his walking staff, and trod off to find her provisions. Dremma pulled her cloak around her shoulders, and grabbed a cracker, nibbling it delicately.
   
She wished she could speak again. Being a mute was a hindrance that she didn't like at all. Reaching up, she felt the black choker around her neck, that covered up the scar where her voice-box once was. She frowned unhappily, at the thought of the man who had beaten her, and cut out her voice-box, just because she had stolen a side of bacon to feed herself because she didn't have any money. He left her outside of the city walls, bloody, beaten almost to death, and unconscious. She woke up in an old woman's hut, the woman's son having found her there in the mud.
   
The young man and his old mother were elves, and the two had nursed Dremma back to health. The boy was named Garyn, and his mother Halna. Halna had bandaged Dremma's body, after putting poultices on her bruises. She had also sewn up any open wound, including her throat. Garyn and Dremma became fast friends, and they grew to love one another too.
   
Dremma was a short elf, with long blond hair, and blue eyes. She wore a gray tunic, light brown pants, and a black pair of leather boots. Around her waist was a dark brown belt, which carried a dagger and a belt pouch. On her shoulders was a green cloak, and under that was a small knapsack. Concealed in her boots were a few throwing knives, each as long as a grown man's finger, sharp and deadly.

The old man returned, and sat her supplies down on the counter. "That'll be ten crowns, darlin'", he told her. She opened her belt pouch and gave the old man ten gold crowns. "Anything else?" he asked. She pointed behind him, to a shelf, where lay a dagger made of silver and gold. The old man took it down and handed it to her. She looked it over, and attached it to her belt. She dug around in her belt pouch again, and handed a small diamond to the old man. "This diamond for the dagger, eh?" he said. She smiled and nodded. She attached the dagger to her belt, and left the shop.

She turned to the woods where the cave she occupied with her best friend and soul mate Garyn was. He looked up from drawing on the floor when he heard her soft feet pad into the cave.

He smiled when he saw her. "Hello Dremma, my sweet. Everything go alright?" She smiled and nodded. "Great," he said, standing up and stretching. "Get anything good?" She showed him the knapsack full of groceries, then the dagger she had just bought. "Wow, is this for you or me?" he asked, as he examined it. She pointed to herself. "Alright." He returned the dagger to its sheath, and gave it back to her. "It's nice, sweetie." She nodded, and removed her belt.

"Can you make a fire?" she signed. "It's going to get chilly tonight, I can tell." He snapped his fingers, and a flame shot up in the center of the cavern. "There you go, sweetie," he told her. He walked to the back of the cave to where the two elves' pallets were, and sat down on his.

Garyn was a tall elf. He was a thief like Dremma, but, like her, he only stole when he needed to eat. He didn't know any magic, besides the fire spell. He dressed himself completely in green, except his boots and belt. These were black. His hair was shoulder length, and dark brown. His eyes were grayish-green. He wore a short sword, and he had six daggers hidden on himself.

Dremma came and laid down next to him, wrapping her thin cloak around herself. She drew her knees up to her chest to keep warm. "You cold, sweetie?" asked Garyn. He pulled her close and she wrapped a leg around him. He snuggled her in his arms to keep her warm. "Night Dremma," he whispered in her ear. "I love you." She kissed his lips, then fell asleep cuddled in his arms.

   At dawn, they were on their way to a new town. Garyn was holding Dremma's hand, and walking along the dirt road when they came upon a dead body, lying in the middle of the path. The elves instinctively dropped to a crouch, daggers at the ready. They listened for a moment, trying to hear any footsteps around them. Nothing. Just the wind in the trees, and birds awakening.

Turning to the corpse they saw it was lying face down in the muddy grass. Garyn turned it over with his boot, and he and Dremma made a face. The man's face was completely torn away from the bone; the skull was exposed and bloody. Dremma turned away. The chest was torn asunder, and the heart, lungs, and stomach were gone.

When she finished vomiting, Dremma saw something shiny near a bush. It was a broken sword, and she picked it up by the handle to show to Garyn.  Initials were etched into the pommel. "'C. E.'? Must be his name... Can't say I know a C. E., though," he said, staring down at the body. "Hey," he said. "What's this?" A knapsack was lying nearby. He picked it up and found it was extremely heavy.

He sat the pack on a rock, and opened it. There was a chest inside, fastened with a lock. Garyn reached in his shirt, and pulled out the one thing he cared about less then Dremma: his lock-picking tools. He picked the lock and opened up the chest. "Um, Dremma?" he called. She walked over, and blinked once. The chest was filled to the brim with gold coins. "We are rich!!" yelled Garyn. Dremma hugged him, and kissed his cheek. The two filled their packs and belt pouches up with all the gold. "Let's use the woods to travel in," said Garyn. "With all this money, I don't want us to get waylaid on the road, you know?" She nodded.

The elves left the road and stuck to the woods. It was tough to walk through the thick foliage, but finally, they made it to the edge of a field. Across the way was a town. They saw a long line of people seeking an entrance with the guards. "There's a town, babe," said Garyn. Dremma nodded, and they joined the line of people. There was a tomato cart that was stuck in the mud, and some guards were using their spears to try and force it out. Garyn looked at Dremma. "Save my spot, okay?" She nodded. He pulled his hood up to conceal his ears, walked up to a guard who was leaning against the wall. "Say, my friend, can my girl and I get through? We're supposed to meet up with her parents inside." The guard looked him over. "Yeah, sure, go on in."

Garyn returned to Dremma, told her to pull her hood up, and they entered the city. Garyn slid his arm around Dremma's waist as they walked along the cobblestone street past many different looking houses and shops. There was a mage's store, a weapon store, a tailor's shop, and many others. "I think I want something to drink, how about you?" asked Garyn. She nodded, smiling. "Let's go get something then," he said. "I could go for some ale."

An inn stood on one side of the town square. The two elves saw a bar through the window, so Garyn opened the heavy oak door for Dremma, and they walked up to it. Behind it stood an old man, his face a contorted mass of scars, a broken nose, and a few teeth were chipped and broken. He wore a black patch over his eye, and his tunic, breeches, and apron were the only clean things about him.

"Welcome to The Dragon's Cavern Inn!" he said. "If you'd care for a room, it's two gold pieces. A room with a bath is four gold pieces. Some food and drink is one gold piece, and I can tell yeh now, that my ale is the best from here to Skanzvarne (and the food is good too)! So, what's it gonna be?" Garyn handed him six gold pieces, and requested some food and a room with a bath for the night. The man gave them a key, and told them to sit anywhere they wished.

The elves chose a round table in a dark corner, next to the gigantic fireplace. They sat next to one another, on the side closest to the wall, holding hands under the table until a serving girl walked over. She smiled at them. "Hello! What can I get for you?" She handed them each a thin wooden board. It had the dishes and prices on it.  "Hm... I think I'll have a roasted chicken, with sliced potatoes," said Garyn. Dremma signed. "She says that she will have some pork slices, and carrot soup." He handed both menus back to the serving wench. "Thank you." Dremma dug in her belt pouch, found a gold piece, and gave it to the woman. "She says, 'For your trouble,'" Garyn told her "The woman bowed. "Thank you! I'll be back in a bit with your orders."

After eating, the elves went up to the room they rented. Garyn unlocked the door. It was dark inside and the only light was coming from the window, where the moonlight shone in. The two loves used their night vision to see. Dremma lit a candle she saw on the dresser. The large room held a bed, a dresser, and a bath tub. The pitcher for clean water was sitting in a large bowl on the dresser. "I'm gonna go down across the street to the well, alright?" said Garyn. Dremma nodded.





That's just a taste o' what I have, and I hope you enjoyed it.

-Jer

[RenaissanceInBlood]

I guess my writing is terrible. Oh well.