Prologue

Here is the rough draft of a prologue for my fantasy book. Still needs a lot of polishing but gives you a vague idea.

Prologue

`           Sir James Broadwyn had never been left for wanting when he was Lord Godfry’s guest. Over a decade had passed since Sir James had last feasted in the Lord’s hall, but the food and drink was still plentiful and fresh. Sir James had already feasted on mutton, salted fish, and pheasant. Glasses of fine wines from Muerran and mugs of strong ale from Norlandia washed down his meal. Now James’ belly was full and pushing out against his velvet doublet.

            A decade ago his belly had not been quite so big and there were few who could have stood before him in battle. That was before the last crusade and things had been so much simpler for James then. Now the knight’s best days were behind him. Perhaps a piece of him never returned from that crusade. Many of Godfry’s sworn men had not returned as well. A decade ago the Lord’s hall had been twice as full and then some. Now entire tables sat empty and the only thing James could see was greybeards and green boys. They might of worn mail rings over boiled leather and armed themselves with spears and swords but James knew they were soft. Gruff faces and sharpened spears do not make warriors.

            There were only a handful of true knights in the hall. There was a pair of knights seated to James’ left. They wore plate armor with colorful tabards over their torsos. They looked like hardened warriors but Sir James knew they were as green as summer grass. James tried to remember their names as he gulped down another glass of wine. Godfry had introduced them earlier but James had not cared enough to remember. They were both sworn to Godfry’s household so they were likely the son’s of some of his vassal lords. Across from the young knights were three aging knights in studded leather armor and heavy fur cloaks. Two of them were brothers, Sir Arnold and Sir Archibald. Two filthy old cunts who fancy themselves warriors because they have slain a few brigands over the years. The third one, Sir Reynolds, was cut from a different stock than Arnold and Archibald. Reynolds was old and grey like them but he had tasted real battle and proved himself. Still though, he was the eldest of them all and far past his prime. All in all the sorriest bunch of knights James had ever seen. I could cut this lot down as easily as a butcher could carve up a stag.

            There was only one other knight in the hall. He was some sworn sword to the plump Lord Brummsley, a vassal of Lord Godfry. The knight had been glued to his lord’s side all night. He was a stranger to Sir James and had quickly rubbed him the wrong way. The knight was neither too young nor too old. He was shorter than James but powerfully built with a thick chest and big arms. The knight had a mace hanging from his belt and James did not doubt that it had smashed a few skulls over the years. James finished another glass of wine and leaned back in his chair and patted his belly. He did not like his odds if push came to shove with that knight. I had better just steer clear of Brummsley and his little pet.

            The rest of the hall was occupied by men at arms, serjeants, and guards. Some were strangers and some of the face’s James recognized. There was One-armed Cass who was using his sole remaining arm to guzzle down mug after mug of beer. Cass had left his boyhood and one of his arm’s behind in the Shadowlands. There was Zand Lofter who was so paranoid he kept his spear and shield by his side as he feasted. Zand had a long brown beard that was streaked with gray and a fiery temper. Blind Pete was present, telling everyone around him the story of how he lost his eye fighting in the crusade. The green boys sitting around him were eating up his story with enthusiasm. No doubt they were eager to go off to war to earn their own stories of glory. I wonder if they would be so enthralled if Pete told them the truth of how he had never even made it to the Shadowlands. On the march east he had slipped off and visited a brothel and that lost eye was due to dispute with some whore that he tried to not pay. Oh and he might as well tell them how that whore was a man.

             There were serving girls and whores as well. In James’ experience there was but a fine line between the two. It was considered beneath knights and lords to share their beds with lowborn women but that rule was seldom followed after a night of drinking. James was more than pleased when a plump serving girl covered in freckles plopped down on his lap and gave him a drunken smile. She could not have been much more than half his age if even and he liked the way her cheeks were rosy as she kept up her toothy grin. She was fat sure enough but James had drunk just enough for that not to matter in the least. Besides it is not like I am some prize anymore. Old and fat and about to be put out to pasture, I can hardly be choosey.

            James may have been drunk but he was not a fool. The serving girl may not have been an outright whore but she saw something in him and it was not his looks. Low born girls love to land them a knight or lord for the night. Some of the girls do it for the thrill of it, others do it hoping to win some rich man’s heart, but most just do it for the coins he might leave behind in the morning. James knew this one was smiling not for him but for what silver he might part with for a night with her. She would never admit to it, which would be akin to admitting to be a whore, but it is what gave her a glitter in her eyes.

            James was starting to feel a bit light headed and everything around him was a bit blurrier than it was an hour ago. He excused himself to go take a piss and hoped that the serving girl would be there when he returned. James lumbered passed two spearmen guarding the door to the hall. The night’s sky was dark and he could see both the moons shining brightly. A bad omen or so I have heard it said. Not that there could be a fate worse than this. Looking forward to share a bed with some fat slut who would be whoring herself out to sailors down by the docks if she had not gotten lucky and been taken as a serving girl by the Earl. You have really made a work of your life haven’t you James. Just a fat old knight that hardly deserves the title anymore.

            James felt a chill as he emptied his bladder behind the hall. He could tell that it was going to get colder before the night was over. He hurried up so he could get back inside and hopefully claim that fat wench before one of the other scrags got their grubby hands on her. He stumbled back into the hall and tried to scan the room looking for his freckled faced target but couldn’t locate her. Feeling a bit dejected, James made his way towards a cask of wine and filled up his pouch stopping to take a few draughts while he did. As James turned to make his way back to his table he nearly collided with Brummsley’s stocky knight. James tried to nod in acknowledgment of his near mishap but the knight just gave him a cold hard stare in return. Fucking prick. I know your type, always looking to prove to everyone how tough you are. Hell I used to be you. What a fool I was then. James walked past him ignoring his challenging tone. He wanted pussy tonight not a broken skull.

            When James returned to his table he found the two young knights nearly passed out. They had boasted of their ability to drink the oceans dry but the truth was in their eyes that were rolling back into their heads. The elder knights across from them were not fairing much better. They were all red in the face and sloppy drunk. Two of them were clinging to a pair of pox marked whores who could have been confused with a horse’s ass. The other one had found him a nice pretty little thing and she was sitting on his lap with her arms around his neck. He slurred his words as he filled her head with bullshit stories trying so desperately to impress her. She is not after you, you old fool! You want what is between her legs and she wants what is in your coin purse. James knew he was just being a crabby old bastard because his wench was likely getting her brains fucked out by someone else. That is how the game works sometimes. You can be sure as anything and then turn your head for a second and another cock swoops in and takes your prize right out from under you.

            James had all but given up hope when the serving girl plopped right back down on his lap. He was so drunk he had not even seen her approach but he was delighted all the same. She smiled at him and he was happy to see that her teeth were not all that bad. “I thought you had run off with someone else,” James said to her.

            She made an exaggerated look of surprise. “What leave my Lordling for someone else? Is milord mad?”

            James had to chuckle at that. “I’m no Lord just a poor fellow knight trying to make his way.” He flashed a smile as he said those words. “Does that disappoint my lady?”

            She smiled big. James could tell she was not used to anyone calling her a lady. “Me? A lady? Well I have heard some funny things before but never quite so.” James was surprised by how well she spoke. He could barely understand most commoners but this one spoke nearly as good as any high born person.

            The flirting back and forth lasted a bit longer. One of them, James was too drunk to remember which, finally suggested they retire to his room for the night. Godfry had arranged for his honored guests to all have rooms in his keep. The festivities were to last for several days and James had been given a nice room with a feather bed. He and the serving girl were locked together as the stumbled inside. His head was swirling at this point. He took a long drawl from his wine pouch and belched loudly as the contents went down. The serving girl grabbed the pouch from his hand and took a long hard swig too. Got to loosen her nerves to fuck my old ass I see.

The serving girl flashed James another toothy grin and then wasted no time in removing her top and releasing her giant sloppy tits.  James lurched forward and reached out for them. She let out a sharp squeal as he squeezed her tits hard in his drunken haze. “Sorry wench.” He said with a drunken smile. She looked at him with a slight annoyance and said, “Just be easy there Lordling.”

“I’m not a lord woman,” James said with unnecessary loudness. “I told you I am just some knight.” She then flashed him another smile, “Let’s see what my knight has hiding in his pants.” James watched as she shoved her stubby fingers down the front of his pants and reached for his manhood inside. He sloppily fumbled with his breeches, undoing them as fast as he could until his pants dropped down to his ankles. His cock sat there limp as fish in her hand as she fondled it back and forth.

The serving girl dropped to her knees then stroked him, then licked him, and then even sucked him but it was getting her nowhere. James looked down at his penis and saw it just lazily flop around. Fucking thing is as useless as I am.  Finally James pulled away from her in embarrassment. The serving girl rose back to her feet and started putting her shirt back on. James turned away from her not wanting to see any mocking look she might give him. A knight with a broken sword. I am sure her and the other wenches will have a nice laugh at my expense later. The serving girl looked at him and seemed to have some pity in her big brown eyes. “I am sure you have just had too much to drink my lordling.”

James felt a surge of heat flow through him. He snapped around and slammed the back of his hand into her face. Blood squirted from her nose and a tooth flew out from her mouth. “I told you whore that I am not a lord. Get out of my sight.” She tried to compose herself the best that she could as she quickly buttoned her shirt. Much to James shock though, he actually started to feel some life in his cock. As the serving girl tried to brush past him he grabbed arm tightly and threw her down on the bed. “On second thought I think I will fuck you whore.” He ripped off her pants and she tried to strike him with her hands and feet but James struck her once more killing whatever fight she had in her.

He forced his way in her and a few lame thrusts later and he was spent. Tears were falling down her cheeks as she sprinted from the room. James made no move to stop her. The whole room was spinning as all he drank that night started to overwhelm him. You showed her didn’t you James. What a man you are. James sank into his bed disgusted with himself.

The next day the festivities continued. More guests arrived throughout the day and the hall was a bit more full than the night before. James had been worried what would come of the mess from last night but he had yet to see the serving girl today. He knew she was not likely to say anything. Commoners often think that laws don’t apply to knights and lords but James knew better. Lord Godfry, the Earl of Laughton, would have his head if he knew what had happened. When a knight is anointed he swears a holy oath to defend the weak, the women, and the children. It is death for any knight who breaks a holy oath lest the gods show their vengeance.

The gathering was for Lord Godfry’s daughter. She is to be wed to the son of the Earl of Jolene. Sir James had fought in the crusades alongside Lord Godfry so of course the Earl would invite him. All lords and knights sworn to Godfry are expected to attend but quite a few prominent ones were conspicuous in their absence. The realm is in disarray. A decade ago no one would openly insult their Lord like this.

The son of Lord-Prince Llewellyn arrived during the evening to much pomp and splendor. He was accompanied by more than fifty halberdiers from the King’s Army. I wonder what the King would think about one of his Lord-Prince’s sons using his army to show off. Those men are meant to garrison castles and keeps in the province not for this pup’s parade. It was of little surprise to James that Llewellyn himself did not attend. The five provinces of the Kingdom are each ruled by a Lord-Prince in the King’s name. All of them fancy themselves too good to dine with mere mortals.

As the night wore on James started to settle in. The first course was a pheasant stuffed with chicken served with a vintage elven wine. The next course was various kinds of fish served with a strong wine from Gandon. After that a few barrels of ale were served while wrestling matches were held for entertainment.  Music and dancing followed the wrestling while cheeses and cured meats were served along with wines of all sorts.

Before long James was both stuffed and drunk. He even spotted the serving girl briefly at one point. Her cheek was bruised and her eyes were sad, both of which made James feel guilty. He thought of seeking her out and saying he was sorry but felt it might only add to her insult. Instead the knight downed more glasses of wine. His stomach was starting to feel burdened so he stumbled out of the hall. He made it to the cisterns and then he shit for what he felt like an eternity. As he sat there relieving his bowels he heard some commotion outside. Probably a brawl among the lowborn partying by the docks. The sailors and the local farmers often brawled over gambling and whores.

 James made his way back into the hall feeling a bit fresher than he did before. He quickly gulped down another glass of wine as he surveyed the room. He was looking for any whores who might be unspoken for. Earlier in the day, while he was hungover and regretful, he swore to himself he would leave women be for the rest of the festival. But promises made while sober are quickly forgotten when drunk again. A sense of joy filled him as he finally spotted his prey. She was a blonde headed wench aimlessly walking around. Hell she might even be pretty if she was not so fucking fat. James acted quickly before someone else moved in on his target. When he closed in he grabbed her meaty arm and spun her around and gave her a sloppy smile. “Come join me at my table lass.” She smiled back at him revealing more teeth missing than present. “Dat be ‘n order melord?” Great, ugly and sounds like a fucking dullard. “I am a knight not a lord and get your fat ass over here and sit by me.” He slapped her massive ass hard as he said that. She laughed so heartily that spit flew from her mouth. James shook his head in disgust as she walked in front of him. Not like I have much to choice tonight. The best ones are already spoken for.

Back at his table the wench straddled his lap and locked her lips to his. He could feel her tongue invade his mouth and he did not know whether to be excited or wretch. I am going to need a lot more glasses of wine tonight. James motioned for a serving boy to refill his cup as he pushed away from the wench’s embrace. A loud commotion again erupted outside. Things were loud in the hall but this was loud enough to bring the music to a halt and for heads to turn. The pair of spearmen guarding the door looked at each other in confusion and then walked outside. James felt uneasiness in the pit of his stomach and motioned for the wench to get off him.

The musicians began playing again and after a brief moment of weariness most people began to settle back into their drinks and dancing. James could not shake the feeling in his stomach though and gripped the hilt of his sword. A blood curdling scream brought the music to a halt yet again. One of the spearmen came stumbling back into the hall covered in blood with a trio of arrows sticking out of him. Strange shouts and howling rang out from outside and then suddenly in burst dozens of spearmen.

It was all such a flash to James. Beards, turbans, copper skin, spears, arrows, everything whizzing by as shouts and screams became one. He saw Lord Brummsley’s stocky knight with mace in hand throw himself into the thick of the fighting and watched as he got impaled by half a dozen spear tips. He saw the pair of young knights too drunk to stand get dragged down and hacked to pieces. He saw men from the King’s Army try in vain to protect the Prince’s son. They fought off the men in turbans for a few moments but eventually each man met a brutal end.

A man with copper skin and a thick beard confronted James with his spear leveled. The man howled and hooted in strange tongues and lunged forward. James tried to parry with his sword but ended up getting smashed in the face with the butt of the spear. He dropped down to one knee as blood poured from his nose. James steadied himself and grabbed a hold of the spearman and wrestled him to the ground. He pummeled his smaller adversary with his fists until the copper skinned man was a bloody mess.

James barely looked up when he felt a sharp pain in his gut. A man in a turban towered over him with the tip of his spear dripping with blood. The man let out a howl and thrust his spear back into James’ stomach. Pain shot through his body with unbearable agony. James tried in vain to raise his hands up in defense but a third spear thrust sent him tumbling backwards with searing pain. He tried to lift up his head but the pain blazed over him like a fire. He dropped his head back down as the spearmen loomed over him. He saw the spear raised and then darkness.

Next Model

This is going on the second terrain board I am building. It is a rock spire. Again step by step photos to show the process of how I am transforming simple objects into different model scenery.

Here is the basic foundation...

 

Once the glue dried I started to carve the basic shape. This is a picture from about half way through the process.

 

The goal here is to make the little pieces of foam insulation appear less like little pieces of foam insulation and more like rock.

This next picture is after a coat of base paint, a medium grey applied all over. This process took a while getting in all the nooks and crannies. If I had to do over again I would of prepped the foam to take paint better and went over it with a white paint instead and washed it over and over again with shades of paint but hindsight is 20/20.

 

 This next picture shows the model after some layers of dry brushing.

 

The next step is to add some foliage material. Here is a close up on some vine like material I added to the model. It is not glued down yet so it appears a bit "fluffier" then it will at the end.

 

I am still working on finishing the overall drybrushing. Real rocks and cliffs have a multitude of browns, greys, reds, and greens and I am working in various colors while keeping it dominantly grey. Hopefully by tonight I can post up completed pictures. I will also update the current training logs and post up some other odds and ends. 

 

 

Updated Model Pics

Well I have worked on the board section and gotten a lot done. I am going to post some step by step pictures so you can see how it was done. The base material is foam insulation (commonly blue or pink but in this case I got the lowes brand which was in green). I used the 3/4 inch size which seems to be ideal at deviations are at about model height but slightly less for a 28mm model. The first this I had to do was cut out a 2 foot by 2 foot square (the sheet comes in a 8 foot by 4 foot section). I did this using a 2 foot by 2 foot piece of pine plywood as a guide and cut the sheet with a retractable hobby knife. I did this by cutting along the board edge about half way down and then snapping it apart. This meant that I had to cut off a 2 foot by 4 foot section and then cut that in half. This produced a nice clean cut. I don't have any pictures of this stage so I will use a stock photo from the web.

Once I cut out the basic 2 foot by 2 foot section I had to think up what I wanted on this particular board. I would be combining it with 7 other sections to make a full game table of 8 foot by 4 foot. I had the general idea in my mind of what I wanted it to look like and I sketched it out on a piece of paper. I then made a computer drawing in photo shop.

In order to accomplish this I had to cut out the hill that would be in the corner. I cut this from the same insulation board that I cut the 2 foot by 2 foot section and then glued this to that section. Since there were no river section or other type of depression that pretty much took care of any designing I had to do on the board. Again I don't have a picture of this step so I am using one from the internet to give you a general idea.

The gives a basic idea. From here I had to provide some kind of texture to the board to make it appear less like a piece of Styrofoam and more like a landscape. Since I still wanted a relatively flat surface for models to sit upon I used paint mixed with sand. This provides some texture but still allows models to stand upright. If I was building a static scene like a model railroad layout I would use modeling clay or plaster to made a more realistic landscape but for this I wanted something that balanced between looking good and being functional. This is a picture of the board section while the paint was still wet.

The rest of the pictures are different progressions on how I painted and then dry brushed things. The hill was first painted over with a medium gray. Over top of this I threw on a black wash. I then went back and drybrushed medium gray and followed up with progressively lighter shades of gray all the way to a very light dusting of white. The dirt areas was done with raw sienna and then dry brushed with a mix of raw sienna and yellow ochre. I then dry brushed yellow ochre and finally hit it with a very light dusting of a bright yellow. I then applied various kinds of ground foliage from woodland scenics to give a grass and bushes affect.

The board is basically done. I am going to apply some trees and the one off shoot on the dirt trail that leads to an open spot is going to house a cottage.

New Model I am Working On

I have decided to start including some entries about different hobbies I am involved in. One of those hobbies is modeling miniature terrain scenes. Think sort of like model railroad scenery without the actual railroads. While there is nothing wrong with model trains I am just not really into them. I much prefer to model fantasy scenes. The current one I am working on is based around the Warhammer Fantasy game I have talked about before.

The basic plan is to work in 2 foot by 2 foot sections. What I do is cut out a section of insulation foam board and make my model based around that. In the end it will consist of 8 sections (meaning when combined it will be 8 foot by 4 foot).

Obviously the first order of business in building a section is to cut the foam board to shape. In order to do this I used a sharp hobby knife and cut about half way through the board using a hardwood board as a straight edge to follow. I then simply snapped the board and this produced a nice clean cut. I actually thought this would be one of the harder parts but it proved remarkably easy.

The next thing I had to do was decide what would be going on the section. For the first section I am working on I decided one corner would have a gently sloping hill. A dirt road would traverse the middle of the board and a small cottage would sit just off the main road. Other than that a few trees and perhaps a fence surrounding the cottage. Pretty simply to start off with.

With this plan in mind the next thing I had to do was cut the hill shapes that would go in the corner. I used a serrated steak knife for this which works quite well in producing a nice jagged cut like a hill side would have. I then had to attach these hills to the board itself. Most of the features on the board will be added later on but the hill had to be added now so that it would be textured like the rest of the board.

The next step was to texture the board. This was achieved by using an "earth color" (roughly raw sienna) and mixing in sand to make it textured. This is then applied liberally all over the board. After the first coat second and third coats may be applied to select spots to make subtle differences in the terrain. Once this is dry the board will be dry brushed in several different colors depending on what each area is supposed to represent. The hill will be drybrushed in several shades of gray to represent a rocky out cropping while the rest of the board will be highlighted in shades of browns, oranges, and yellows to represent dirt. After that grass, foliage, rocks, and other things can be added to add character.

At the moment I just finished applying the first layer of texture paint to the board. After this drys I will judge whether or not I want to do additional layers or go straight to highlighting.

 

That is a picture of the board still very wet from its initial coat of textured paint. I am pretty happy with it. 

King Airodak Part 1

Several times in the past I have mentioned King Airodak. He was the King of Pelador a couple hundred years before the story I am currently writing is set. While his reign was wrought with many problems, he has grown into almost a mythic figure of the Peladorian people. Renown as perhaps the greatest of all the Kings of Pelador and one of the finest swordsman who ever lived, a cult like attitude has developed around his legacy.

Airodak had the most humble of beginnings. He was a bastard son of Prince Kaldor, the youngest son of King Faldon VI. Being that he had three older brothers, Prince Kaldor's chances of ever ascending the throne were very low. He was married off to a Princess from the Principality of Bayersville. Kaldor grew to absolutely despise his chosen wife and took to having many affairs. Airodak in particular was the result of an affair between the Prince and King of Gandon's niece. This caused much strife between Pelador and Gandon and brought much shame to Kaldor. The Prince chose exile with his son to the northwest of Pelador, the barbarous region known as Norlandia.

Prince Kaldor raised his son in the court of a Norlander Petty King. Airodak was not the boys given name but rather a nickname derived from one of the Norlander dialects. Among these northmen Airodak learned many things of personal honor and courage. The Norlanders valued strength and good name above all else and instilled these lessons onto the boy.

Meanwhile in Pelador things were going awry. A plague outbreak had devastated the Midlands, going so far as to stricken the King and his eldest son. Though they lingered on for weeks eventually both of them succumbed to the disease. This created a power vacuum in the Kingdom as Prince Kaldor's two brothers vied for the throne. The eldest of the two by rights should of succeeded as King but many considered him a simpleton and buffoon. The younger of the two was considered very clever but also seen by many as incredible cutthroat and dangerous.

Soon the arguments of succession led to outright warfare between the two brothers. Each gathered nobles under their banners and several small skirmishes happened between retinues of knights. These small battles proved to be inconclusive and soon larger pitched battles occurred. For nearly five years battles raged across Pelador and all the while the Kingdom suffered. Eventually things came full circle at the Battle of Bendo's Farm. The two brothers each led their respective forces in a bloody meat grinder that left both princes dead and their armies devastated.

Amid the chaos following the Battle of Bendo's Farm Prince Kaldor returned to Pelador with his young son in tow. Kaldor claimed the throne and no one was left in a position to challenge his claim. His initial years of rule were tumultuous to say the least. He proved to be very unpopular among both the nobles and commoners and many attempts were made on his life. Only four years after claiming the throne King Kaldor was slain by a Gjinn assassin.

This brought about another round of succession wars. Airodak was now sixteen but many of the nobles viewed him as a bastard and unfit for ruling the kingdom. Many of the templar orders backed various rival claimants for the throne. Soon many powerful enemies took the fields in opposition to him. Airodak was in a tight spot but did count among his supporters a few key allies. Perhaps the most important of all these allies was the Petty King that had given his father shelter during his exile. He sent from their strongholds in the Skyforrest Mountains five thousand of his best warriors to aid Airodak. Several of his fellow petty kings sent smaller numbers of warriors as well.

On and off for 8 years battles were fought across Pelador. In the end Airodak crushed his rivals and secured his throne. While Airodak wanted revenge against those who had opposed him, he chose to put aside vengeance for the moment in order to repair the fractured kingdom. He first provided aid to those areas that had been worst afflicted by the plague outbreak. Next he restored trading routes and used royal soldiers to secure roads that had been commandeered by bandits.

The ensuing four years of his reign has since become known as the period of restoration. Airodak managed to pay off past debts to other kingdoms and codified many laws. Even some of his biggest opponents soon became hard pressed to stand against him. His policies were working quite effectively and in a short four years Pelador was restored to its former glory.

Having gained popular support from among the people and having pacified some of his strongest opponents, Airodak soon hatched his plans for revenge. He set his sights on the templar orders who had supported his rivals during the succession wars. The templar orders had sprung up during the Otani wars and now that those wars had been over for a century they now longer had a purpose. Now they had taken to using their military might to impose their will. Many of the templar orders were charging taxes to travel on roads by their fortresses and some had outright declared sovereignty. This incensed Airodak to no end and gave him the justification to make his move against them.

At the time the Kingdom of Pelador maintained two regiments of Royal soldiers. Each regiment was supposed to be five thousand strong and well equipped and trained. As well as these ten thousand soldiers, each noble and knight were obligated to provide a certain number of troops to the king when called upon. King Airodak sent out summons to all his lords and knights and to the regimental commanders. Much to his chagrin though, only five hundred nobles and knights answered his call. Their retinues supplied another three thousand soldiers. The Royal Army Regiments fared little better. Both were found to be severely undermanned and poorly equipped. All told Airodak marched out with roughly ten thousand men, much less than he had anticipated.

The campaign seemed doomed from the start. Within days of marching out a virus spread among the men and they lost hundreds in the weeks that followed. A few of Airodak's close advisers urged him to turn back but he would not be swayed. Inclement weather delayed their march as severe storms wrecked the country side turning many fields into quagmires. It took over two weeks before they were met with their first battle.

The Brothers of the Sword, one of the largest templar orders, had set up battle lines near the town of Nesbitt. Things looked very grim for the King. Airodak's men were stricken with sickness and fatigue and were faced with well trained knights and men at arms in well defended positions. For two days a bloody stalemate ensued in which each side lost hundreds of men. Morale plummeted among the Kings troops and even some of his advisers openly opposed continuing the battle. During the night a terrible storm swept through and lightning struck Airodak's pavilion catching it on fire. Some legends say that Airodak himself was struck by the lightning, but all that is known for sure is that the fire singed his hair so badly that by the next morning he had it shaven bald. His fellow knights in a sign of solidarity shaved their heads bald as well.

That morning many of his troops were refusing to charge again. They were hungry and tired beyond belief and battered and bruised and all those other things that wear a person down. King Airodak rode out before his men with his contingent of knights and nobles riding behind him. The sight of several hundred heavily armored knights all in unison was alone enough to raise spirits. The rousing speech that Airodak gave his men though was enough to get them worked up into a frenzy. With a furor they had not yet possessed they charged the templars. Airodak fought at the front of the battle and personally cut a swathe so large through the enemy that a hole developed in their lines. His troops poured in behind their king taking advantage of the breech and dividing the templars in two.

In the center of the battlefield King Airodak hacked and slashed his way right to the Grandmaster of the Brothers of the Sword. The templar commander had a fearsome reputation but Airodak gave no pause in engaging him. They clashed their swords in an epic duel so furiously that those fighting around them stopped to watch. The Grandmaster frenzied attacks gave him the initial upper hand, driving back the king. Unbeknownst to the Grandmaster, Airodak's years having been reared by the Norlanders had taught him quite well how to deal with aggressive assaults. Soon the templar commander tired from his relentless pace and Airodak capitalized. He disarmed his opponent and then struck him down.

The Brothers of the Sword lost heart having witnessed their leader slain. Many of those closest by the duel dropped their weapons and surrendered while those furthest away fled. Those who fled the battle were mercilessly hunted down and butchered. Those who surrendered were offered a chance to denounce their order and swear an oath to the King. Those who refused were offered a quick death but in the end the majority of them joined the King's service.

Stay tuned for Part 2

Random Thoughts and Things

Well February was a very successful month for my blog. It received the second most page views of all time, only behind October of 2010 when I made an insane amount of entries. One complaint I have is that feedback from my blog is next to nothing. I know that many people are viewing it but rarely if ever do I hear anyone's opinions on what they like or dislike about it. I hate beating a dead horse but if you enjoy a certain entry or like certain types of blog posts let me know. Otherwise I will just keep doing what I want to do and that may not be exactly what the majority of people like to read.

This blog originally started as a way to monitor my training for powerlifting. In many ways it still fulfills that role somewhat but now I really see it more as a way of getting my writing out there to the general public. I am working on a novel that I want to publish as well as several short stories that I feel will later be combined in an anthology. The more people I can get viewing the blog on a regular basis the better my chances of having the right people read it. That's where the people reading the blog (you) come in. Leave comments, let me know what you like or dislike, agree or disagree with, and share a link on your facebook wall and encourage people on your friend's list to read the blog and share the link. I am only one person, I need help in this.

Training wise things are going great. Missy and I are both sore and beat up but she broke her personal record on deadlifts and squats this week and I made a personal record on deadlifts so it has been great so far. There has been tooo many days off though in between training which is causing me some frustration. Bullshit that I don't want to talk about causing interference with training that I will not tolerate. Missing a training session every now and then is one thing but when it becomes an issue you have to decide what you want more, to be the best you can be or to wallow.

I am working on chapter 13 of my book and almost completed with it. I should be done by tonight and then onto chapter 14. I have an interesting short story brewing in my head that I can't wait to write about as well. I probably will before the end of the weekend and post it up on here.

Other than that nothing much to say.             

Drugans

Just what the hell are Drugans?

I have mentioned Drugans more than a few times in my book excerpts without fully explaining just what they are. That is not entirely on accident as they are a more recent addition to my book. Actually now that I think about it they did play a huge role in early rough drafts of my story (called by a different name) but were eventually written out. Then after some major modifications I put them back in the story but only in background material. I was going to utilize them in a much different role than originally intended in a follow up book to the one I am writing now.

Then on a whim as I wrote the excerpt for Alaric I decided to place Drugans back into the story. I could not use them though in the way that I had rewritten them it simply would not have worked. In order to use them in the story I had to rewrite them again and this time they would be far closer to their original version than the second version. Rather than bore anyone with any more details I will give a short background and description for what Drugan’s are.

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Of all the creatures on Kurth none are more destructive and warlike than the Drugans. Found virtually across the breadth and width of Kurth from the deep forests of Pelador to isolated desert tribes in Otan, Drugans live lives of perpetual war and battle. Though they most often fight small skirmishes against other Drugan tribes, they will sometimes form larger war parties and raid human settlements.

Drugans are massively built compared to humans. Adults tend to average at least 7 feet tall and are broad shouldered and heavily muscled. Though they walk upright like humans they differ in many other ways. Their skin is green and they are covered in a fine fur from their neck down that ranges in color from light browns all the way to black. Their faces are bare of fur and have two large tusks protruding from their lower jaw.  

Their entire culture is dominated by warfare. Centuries ago a powerful Drugan warrior conquered and united many Drugan tribes in the Savagelands to form the first and only Drugan Kingdom. Since then his line of heirs have ruled with an iron fist and continue to conquer many smaller tribes. Though primitive compared to human kingdoms they still have some form of civilization including written laws and customs.

The vast majority of Drugans though still live in small isolated tribes. These tribes are primitive even compared to the Drugan Kingdom and our ruled by might. Though they are sometimes separated by vast distances almost all of them are ruled in a similar fashion. Two Drugans share power over the tribe.

One of them is a warchief who is the biggest and strongest of the tribe. The warchief obtains power by defeating the previous warchief in single combat and maintains his rule until he himself is slain by a rival. If a warchief is killed in battle a tournament will be held by any surviving Drugans who wish to assume leadership. When a Drugan is defeated in battle it is customary for the victor to snap off his foes tusks as a sign of disrespect. Since Drugan tusks never stop growing that means those with the largest tusks are the ones who are the biggest and toughest. Warchiefs will generally wear the tusks of those rivals he removed in crude necklaces or other totems as a sign of his power.

The other person who rules over the tribe jointly is the tribe’s shaman. Drugan shamans practice a primitive but extremely powerful form of magic. Perhaps because of the dark arts they dabble in shamans uniquely tend to grow horns atop their heads. They care little for imposing their will on the day to day affairs of the tribe, leaving those duties to the warchief. Shamans instead are invested in guiding the directions of the tribe. They decide when to move and when to stay put and when to make war. They consider everything else too menial for their attentions.

When Drugan tribes make war with others everyone has a part to play. The Drugan women are tasked with making sure the warriors are well fed and equipped with primitive weapons and armor that they either fashion themselves or loot from enemy corpses. Younger Drugans are employed as scouts, archers or operators of crude war machines. Warchiefs fight in the front ranks leading charges and taking the fight to the enemy. Shamans stay back from the main body of fighting, attacking the enemy with arcane magic.

Though Drugan attacks on human settlements are quite rare they are still highly feared. The telltale sounds of Drugans braying in the distance will fill humans with terror. Drugans are stronger and able to withstand more damage than humans making them very tough adversaries. Those few unfortunate towns that are raided by Drugans and cannot fight them off are left devastated with mutilated corpses and vast destruction. Thankfully those are rare cases indeed.

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That is Drugans in a brief nutshell. They are primitive man-beasts, which are highly disorganized, but to be quite feared when they do gather under a strong leader.