short stories

[e.Blackstar]

Wow..I haven't written anything in the Prancing Pony for a long while...but if y'all would like to read it, I shall post a short story or two. Yea or nay?

I'm hoping that no one will take them...but since I'll probably never publish them anyway, I spose it don't matter. Besides, I trust y'all pretty well.

[dapence]

That reminds me, I'm going to place this site under a 'Creative Commons (http://creativecommons.org/)' copyright, which will protect all the members work from being stolen for commercial purposes.

[e.Blackstar]

Yay! Thankee mucho!

Phew! That made me nervous when I opened the Prancing Pony on my computer and there's a post by the great WM! Phew...hehe. :D

[e.Blackstar]

Freeing Terrace
Maria Staubus

"You want me to what?" She'd almost yelled, remembering just in time to lower her voice, curious pedestrians in the Main Way of Aika being abundant.
Jalin shoved her into an alleyway and hissed, "Come on, Terrace! It'll be fine!" Terrace brushed her brother's hand off her shoulder and pushed back her cloak hood.
"How would you know? Ever been stuffed into a corset and skirts?"
Jalin shook his head with a wry grin, his black curls bouncing into rust-gold eyes. "It can't be that bad, can it Terrace? You did it for years with Heather and Jhess."
"What, you think I became a sellsword because I liked sitting on windowseats in scorching dresses doing embroidery?" Terrace grimaced and leaned against one wall of the alley.
Jalin chuckled dryly, but persisted. "Please, Terrace. For me, sister dear?" He knelt and adopted a beseeching expression.
"Why can't you go do the gambling? You're just as good as me when it comes to the gambling part."
"Exactly! We gotta take these people in, and Lord Rawn's not gonna be easy to fool. If you do it, they'll see you as naive, and-Ouch!"
Terrace slapped him again and said, "I'm a better player than all of those pig-eyed slops! You..."
Jalin rubbed his cheek wearily where she'd slapped him and brushed his hair back from his eyes. "I know that you're good, but you have to pretend. In no way can you seem like a hired sword. You have dress and act like-uh, how would you say it?-um..."
"What? You want me to be a tavern wench? A whore?"
"Yeah, sure. Whatever. So, will you do it, or do I have to make up and execute a new plan in the next three hours?"
"Fine. You owe me big, brother. Where should I change?"
"Here, of course."
"Here here? In this alley here?"
"Well, yeah. And don't even start with the whole 'affront to your pride' business. You've done worse."
Terrace sighed. "How do you know? Never mind, don't answer that, I'll do it." She pulled off her tunic and chemise. "Well?"
"Well what?"
"Well as in-I don't have a dress. Do you?"
"Oh, yeah. Here." He tugged a fishbone corset-a heavy, thick, fishbone corset-from his pack. Terrace hefted it over her head and jiggled it into place. She was yanking a shift on when she asked in a muffled voice, "Where's Khris? What'd you do with him?"
Jalin extricated the folds of the dress from his sack, frowning at the name of their tagalong. Khris had a dream to become a defender of justice and the right; so of course he'd decided to apprentice himself to a pair of mercenaries. Not only did he hero-worship Jalin totally, but he had the most massive crush on Terrace that either of the siblings had ever seen.
"Uh...I told him to wait in Galia. He's got paid rooms at the Crippled Boar for a week; we should be back by then. Here, you ready for the dress?"
"Yeah, give it." Terrace turned, hitching the shift's coarse skirt up as she attempted to step into the navy satin.
Jalin coughed and restrained a smile. "It goes over your head."
Terrace stuck out her tongue and jerked the dress on. Twirling once, she ran callused fingers through her hair and struck a pose. "Well? How do I look?"

[e.Blackstar]

Dane was sitting at the corner table in the Dead Waker Inn, booted feet on the table, dark green cloak pooled over the back of his chair and onto the floor, when the door opened and two people swept in. One, a serviceably dressed young man with a saber at his side, walked directly to the bar and slammed down a few coins. The female floated breezily from bar to fireside to gaming tables as if taking it all in for the first time. As she passed Dane, he sat up a little straighter and inclined his tankard towards her. She blushed a bit, and started to bow to him, stopped, flushed brighter, and curtsied unsteadily. Dane's maple-gold eyes scanned her.
She wore satin, dark blue and almost new but for the musty, packed-away smell. It was a beautiful gown, cut low to reveal maximum cleavage without the wearer actually falling out of the dress, and the lacings on the back were tied so tightly that the edges of the cloth were overlapped. The full skirts were parted on one side and swished as the woman moved past his table.
Her long dark hair shimmered with blood-red highlights and her eyes were grey shot with raven-black, flickering over Dane and the other patrons seated around tables. Her frame was delicate, yet she was limber, more like a tumbler or climber than a woman of the street. She moved with grace, but stumbled occasionally because of her gold stilettos. A gold necklace with a diamond drop hung around her neck, and a large gold signet ring flashed from her right hand.
Dane took a sip of his ale and beckoned for her to sit down beside him. She did, and he took one of her hands-rough hands, he noted-and kissed it tenderly. "What's your name, lassie?"

Terrace had been horrified with what Jalin had done to her. He'd gone out and bought some cheap jewelry, then gone to an old woman to have Terrace 'done up', as he put it. The witch had given her some vile drink that she claimed would make her alluring. Oh yes, she felt alluring all right! Hah! Downright ridiculous I look, she thought. Like a jumped up penny whore who thinks she's a lady. And then this bold man, who wouldn't have normally looked twice at her, was asking about her name and family. Probably wants to know who he'll offend if he tries to bed me, she thought with a wry grin. She allowed him to pull her across the table so that their noses were almost touching, feeling that if she got out of this in one piece, her pride would never be whole again. She glared past the man to where Jalin sat chuckling at the bar, and grimaced. As her eyes flashed back to the man's face, she noticed that his cloak was held with a pin in the shape of a sword, with a ruby set in the tiny hilt.
Her skirts swishing as she rose suddenly, Terrace curtseyed clumsily, tottered across the floor to Jalin and hissed, "Tell me he's not the one! Please say that that's not him!" Jalin nodded silently, an amused smile playing across his face.
"He's the one. Dane son of Laeren of House Mellanor. And see that guy over by the gaming tables? Yeah, the blond on the left? That's the Lord himself."
Terrace studied Lord Westly Rawn and compared him with the accounts that she'd heard. He did indeed have blond hair, and he was a few years younger than Terrace herself-perhaps twenty-three or so. He wore his fine clothes with a casual air, and immediately looked away once he'd cast his dice at the table. The other men playing with him took their wins or losses hard, with many groans or shouts of jubilation, but Lord Rawn's mind was elsewhere. His grey-green eyes scanned the room and the people in long sweeps, soaking in the atmosphere of the inn's common room.
Terrace punched her brother on the arm and whispered, "What do I do?" Jalin smiled and pointed to where Dane sat staring at her. "Go give him the letter."
Terrace's face grew pale. "What letter?"
"You know, the letter that you had."
"I thought you had it! I certainly don't!"
Jalin stared at her. "It was in your bag, wasn't it?"
"Yeah, the bag that we left with Kris in Galia." Terrace bit her lip and groaned. "I'm not writing a new one."
"Don't worry, you won't have to. Here, give him this; he'll understand." He pressed a pendant into his sister's hand and gave her a shove back to Dane's table. She stumbled on her heels, and stuck her tongue out at him once she'd regained her balance, but she proceeded to the table and sat back down. Jalin watched them converse in hushed voices, and saw Terrace slide the necklace across the wooden table. Dane picked it up and looked at it, and burst out laughing.

[e.Blackstar]

Khris was sitting in his room in the Crippled Boar with his head in his hands when Sydney came in. The petite mage was two years his senior, but she was a head shorter and never acted her nineteen years. Her black pants rubbed against each other as she crossed from the door, and he looked up into her brown eyes where they lurked under a mop of matching hair. She smiled down at him and gave him a hug; he'd never been comfortable with her hugs, but she embraced everyone indiscriminately, so he'd gotten used to it.
"Hey. Did you have any trouble getting here?"
"Nope," she replied, flopping tiredly into a chair by the wash table. "The road was clear, and the weather was nice. Jedlyn threw a shoe around Sisters Bridge, but we got it fixed at the bridge-keepers', and got into town just fine. You? Where are Terrace and Jalin?"
"Oh, they had to go do something in Aika. They left yesterday morning; I'm paid here for a week, and they said they should be back in a couple days. Where're you staying?"
Sydney got up and pushed her short hair back from her face. Pouring some water from the pitcher into the washbasin, she replied, "The Keep. I guess the Master there has a thing for visiting mages, and he offered me quarters when he heard that I was coming to town. I can live with free rooms, at any rate. I need all the money I can get at the moment, what with tests coming up and my trip to the Blackjack Isles." She splashed her face with water, and her hair stuck to her wet cheeks as she shook herself. Grabbing a towel, she wiped the water out of her eyes and looked in the mirror.
Khris looked at her questioningly. "You're going to the Isles? I didn't know that; why?"
"Of course you didn't know it, silly. I decided two days ago, and there's no point in sending a message by courier when you're riding to meet the recipient anyway." She unpinned her cloak and hung it on a peg by the door. Running her fingers through her hair, she sat back down and kicked off her boots. Stretching her legs out, she closed her eyes and sighed.
"But why are you going? I didn't think that you had to do your foreign study until your fifth year; you know, right before the tests. Why now? You're only in your second year, aren't you?"
"Third," she corrected him mildly. "But I was coming to visit you anyway, and Port Maplewood is right there, so I looked up the ship schedules and there's a ship to the Blackjacks in a few days, so I figured I might as well get it over with. I mean, there's no rule that says that you have to do it fifth year, and the Master of Dawnstar Keep says that he thinks that I'm good enough that I could miss my third year of study and still do fine in the pre-exams."
"Ah ha." Khris laid back on the bed, leaving his legs dangling over the edge. "Are you tired from your trip? Because if you don't want to go all the way back to Whitebelt to nap, you can stay here for a while. I have to go get some food anyway, and I might try to find some work to do. Did you ride here?"
"No," was her weary reply. "I took the cart this morning with stuff for the market. And sure, I'll take you up on your offer. That bed's looking nice and soft right about now."
"Okay. I'm gonna go now; I'll take Kicking Jack. There's some extra money on the dresser if you need to go somewhere, and there're some extra horses for customers in the barn. Just ask the keeper. I should be back in a few hours."
"Okay," Sydney answered as she dragged herself across to the bed and curled up under the quilt. "See ya. Thanks."

[e.Blackstar]

Terrace was doing well, Jalin could see from his vantage point at the bar. Well actually, she was doing terribly, but that was the idea. His sister was a better actress than he'd thought; though it pained her, she was playing up the weak, well-bred lady, and was quickly losing all of their savings and possessions to Lord Rawn. The Lord seemed testy, but according to the bartender, he was always thus when he gambled. From the hoots that arose as Terrace threw the dice again and came up short of the mark for the seventh time, the stakes on that last bet must have been incredibly high. His sister turned towards Jalin, and she tucked her hair behind her left ear. That was the signal, and Jalin acknowledged it with the tiniest of nods before Terrace turned back to the gaming table. Pushing his mug back across the bar to the keeper and flipping him a silver piece, he squared his shoulders and strode across the inn floor towards his sister.
She was about to cast another round, double or nothing, when he stopped her by grabbing her hand. Lord Westly growled and glared irately at Jalin, and pulled Terrace away from him.
"What're you playing at, boy?" Jalin stifled a grin at the Lord's term for him-he had to be at least three years older than Westly. However, he let go of his sister's wrist and bowed to all at the table.
"Begging pardon, m'lord, but my sister here, she doesn't know what she's doing, and I just don't want her to gamble away all'a our stuff. Sir."
The Lord laughed. "Well, sir, you ain't got no cause to go a-manhandling our young lady. She's doing damn fine, ain't she, gentlemen?" Several men laughed and slapped the lord on the back. One brown-haired compatriot spoke up drunkenly. "That's for sure! She's doing right well...got almost 2000 gold coins-for us! Ahahahaha!" He staggered around the table to Jalin and gave him a pair of dice. "Why don't you have yourself a throw, good sir? Go on, see if'n you're any better than the lady here!"
Jalin pushed Terrace away from the table and shook the dice in his cupped palm. "I'll take you on that. What do you say, m'lord, all that you've won off of me sister if I win?"
The lord chuckled and grin spilt his young features. "Done! But what'll I get if'n you lose? You ain't got nothing left to gamble!"
Terrace stepped in and said "Oh, m'lord, we could come work for you! We could pay it off! It shouldn't take too long, right? Maybe a few days of tidying your fort or the like?" Jalin was about to tell her that there was no way to pay 2000 gold coins and the rest of their possessions that she had gambled away when Lord Rawn interrupted.


OKAY, that's all I have so far. I'll post more later. What think you? Seriously, I wanna know. "That's good" or "that sucks" is great, but seriously people! FEEDBACK!

[e.Blackstar]

Cummon people, help me out here! I need feedback even if it's something like "You suck you're a horrible author and I hate you" :rolleyes:

[Hammersmith]

It's rather long to reply to at length here...can I drop you an email or PM?

[e.Blackstar]

Go for it. if using email, send to squirrelsatemybrain@yahoo.com

*realizes that she jus told the universe one of her emails* whoops... :o

Oh well...Um, for anyone that cares, more story should be forthcoming soon. Have been uberbusy with a play, but its almost done.

[Hammersmith]

You should edit that post so it doesn't look like an email...


"emailaddress at yahoo.com"
That way it won't get picked up by scanner programs ;)

Finished reading it, sent it back to you, totally cool and all, hope my comments helped!

[e.Blackstar]

Thanks Hammersmith! I shall revise and post the revisions shortly. Hopefully I can get access to a scanner soon too and post a link to the map of the world.

[HLGStrider]

I got a little lost because you switch back and forth between character views so quicky and with very little warning. It would help if you put some sort of marker between and alerted us to who we were listening to quickly when you change.

[e.Blackstar]

yeah, when it was in the Word document there were nice little paragraphs and stuff...but then when I posted it, the formatting got all shot to...er...someplace flaming. *cough cough* :D
I'll fix it with my next revision.