Sarah the Rogue

Sarah rushed through the narrow alleyway, brushing a stray red hair from her blushed lips as she went. The cold night wind drew moisture to her eyes, something that had grown unfamiliar to her in the days since she had offered her employment to the Order of the Black Lotus. She grumbled to herself as she stepped around a stray cat, causing the inky feline to tip over an empty bottle

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Crown of Sight – scene 5

Talel threw another knife. It slid its way through the armor of the Draesen, the enchanted edge slicing through the steel mail like it was paper. It stopped halfway into the grey-skin’s neck. Dark blood erupted as he slid off of his horse, landing near the first scout Talel had killed, a human.
The elf looked over his shoulder and nodded. Mardrel padded up, his sword drawn. He was followed by the rest of the scouts, who bore bows and crossbows.
“So far, so good,” Talel said to the captain.
Mardrel peered around the boulder, taking in the steep slope up to the enemy palisade, tracing the wooden fortifica-tions with his eyes until they disappeared into the night.
“Do you think we can remain hidden?”
Talel nodded. “Well enough to get close, yes. The problem will be getting away.”

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Crown of Sight – scene 4

Darathel stepped up to the door and held forth his hand. The darkness rippled like water, then faded, revealing a sun-lit room filled with furnishings. Darathel and Faedra stepped in. The dark curtain formed behind them. When it did, the room grew darker as well. A halo of light surrounded a bed on the far wall. As if seeing it for the first time, Darathel flinched, then walked toward it.
On the bed lay an elf, breathing slowly. His eyes were open, and he wore a grim expression, though he stared at nothing. Bedsheets covered him to his chest, but he wore no shirt. His head reclined on a pillow, and on his golden hair sat a detailed circlet of golden-white metal that glowed with its own light, illuminating the dark space.
“Can you hear me, father?” Darathel said.
The elf blinked, then looked at Darathel. His voice was clear and slow. “My son. It is good to see you. How long has it been?”
“A day.”
“So little time. It felt like years.”
“It might have been longer to you, King Pelanel,” Faedra said.

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Crown of Sight – scene 3

“What is there to sabotage, sir?”
Mardrel took his eye away from his telescope for a moment to look at Talel, who stood leaning against a charred tree trunk, his face wrapped against the chill of the fog that billowed per-petually from the Fay Lands close at hand.
“Much to sabotage,” Mardrel replied, “but very little we have the capacity to affect.” He handed the telescope to the scout and sat down on a nearby rock.
Talel brought the brass-barreled device to his eye. His grey cloak and gambeson made him blend in well with the tumbled stone and old ash of the burned-out grove, but he made a stark silhouette against the glow of the Fay. There, the trees grew of their own light, stretching in a golden green sheet behind the city.

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Crown of Sight – scene 2

Prince Darathel leaned over the table. His sword, made for his father’s hands, banged against the ancient wood and he moved it behind him nervously. Covering the table was an immense map drawn on canvas. Ghostly glowing points and clouds hovered over the surface, indicating where the enemy was camped and where its soldiers moved. The lamp above, filled with the ethereal light of the prim, flickered out for a few moments, dimming the relief of the castle and outer walls, leaving the blue-white of the enemy army on the map as the sole source of light in the room… or nearly so.

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Crown of Sight – scene 1

Enjoy this preview of Crown of Sight – releasing on March 22, 2019. More scenes to come in the following days! 1 Katach sat brooding upon his throne, its carved surfaces gilded with the treasure of his many conquests. Its bulk was held aloft on a wooden stand by two ranks of slaves, who bore it upon two great logs that sat upon their shoulders. Images of demons and human suffering ran up and down the back and sides of the great chair, a baroque cacophony of wicked iconography, dedicated wholly to the lord that sat upon it. Despite the…

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Needle Ash – Chapter 7, “Knives of Darkness” part 2

Back to Contents “What now?” Michael said as they walked back, raising his voice to carry over the sound of shouts and claps, spears on shields, and the sounding of war horns. They entered a vast stretch between the first formations, waving. General Butler stood waiting for them in his full armor, and his visor up. He wore a smile that wrinkled his old face further. “We drink and be merry,” Edward said. “We’ll leave three companies on guard at all times, still, for their could still be betrayal or, more likely misbehavior in the ranks.” “A little tolerance will…

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Needle Ash – Chapter 7, “Knives of Darkness” part 1

Chapter 7: Knives of Darkness   Sharona pushed herself closer to Michael as the center of the mattress sagged on its tired ropes, threatening to smother her. Their faces were so close that they could no longer see each other as more than a blur. The muffled sounds of passions pressed just as hard as the mattress, and Michael had to give out a whispered groan. Sharona breathed in Michael’s ear, “This is what you intended, was it not?” “I didn’t expect it to go so quickly.” “She’s apparently very good at her work.” “That remains to be seen… or…

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Needle Ash – Chapter 6: The King and the Queen, part 2

Back to Contents “Proof even a fool can do something right,” King Edward said as they trotted back to camp. “Your outburst might have put a seal on this ceding of territory.” “What?” Michael said. “You’re not seriously considering having Johan marry that woman, are you?” The king chuckled. “He would, if I said so, for I am his king, and we would still gain a kingdom. As consort he would have the real power anyway, being a man and a military leader.” He looked to Johan. “Sounds interesting, eh?” “Most definitely.” “What about Julia?” Michael said. “Michael,” Johan said…

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Needle Ash – Chapter 6: The Queen and the King, part 1

Back to Contents Chapter 6: The Queen and the King Michael stood beside his horse, putting on his gloves. He wore a colorful doublet of blue and green, a fine set of satin trousers and his riding boots which, as he had neglected to bring formal shoes, were shined with cooking oil as per Guissali’s suggestion. He watched the pavilion tent in front of the gates having its final stakes hammered in. It was as neutral a location as could be managed; just beyond reasonable firing range from the city walls and equally far from the fortifications of the Artilland…

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