Sci Fi & Fantasy / Shadow of Chea'Laern: Chapter 4 - Night Watch (Analysis)

Chapter 4

Night Watch

     Creole wondered if he was wise in taking Rahmina to the eastern entrance; the most direct route. The ancient underground library was a place hidden from the outside world for centuries. He knew the exact location of the library, but felt he needed more time to test the general’s intentions. He was confident they hid the library’s entrance well, for they never intended to return. Creole recognized Rahmina’s eagerness to be done with the search, which revealed to him a slight chance her loyalty to the king was weak. He needed more than that. He figured if they eliminated the most direct route first, he would have more time to persuade her away from the library’s existence—therefore denying the tyrant she served of acquiring a great and dangerous power. If they survived and the king acquired the artifacts, their village would never know peace and the world might be consumed by war. The thought of handing the treasure over to the whims of an evil tyrant made him want to punch something.
        “Sir Duunlare,” Rahmina repeated impatiently.
        Creole blinked away his thoughts and looked to the general inquisitively.
        “Are you well?” she asked.
        Creole replied with a nod.
        “Good, because a band of goblins are squatting one hundred paces up the tunnel.”
        Creole used his mental map to estimate the distance, enabling a picture of the layout of the area occupied by the goblins. “The intersection,” he concluded.
        “As far as our scouts could tell, there are nearly a dozen of them,” the general informed him.
        The general and Creole led the way, the scout and one other following closely. They walked as quiet as their armored bodies allowed when surrounded by solid rock, but each step made Creole wince. When they reached the bend before the intersection, Rahmina peeked around and spotted the band fifty paces down the tunnel.
        Creole headed in to get a closer look at the ugly, greenish-yellow skinned beasts.
        “Creole!” Rahmina scolded in a whisper.
He didn’t even look back.
The general turned to her scouts. “One of you will fetch the others, and the other follows me.”
Creole stood five feet away from the goblin ring.
“Couldn’t we have just avoided them?” Rahmina felt uncomfortable speaking around the goblins, even in a whisper, fearing they would leap up for an attack at any moment.
“You aren’t getting soft on me, now, are you?” Creole grinned.
The soldiers rounded the bend in a run, expecting to join a battle. Instead they saw their general and Creole simply standing near the seated, apparently oblivious band. Every third soldier carried a torch. Immediately after the first torchbearer entered the spacious intersection, the tunnel erupted with movement.
Creole instinctively drew his sword, Rahmina her daggers, and not a second too soon.
Then the goblins were on their feet and charging. They held no weapons other than their jagged-toothed jaws and dirty, sharp claws. They uncharacteristically held no fear despite the fact they were badly outnumbered and outmatched. They threw themselves into the swords of the soldiers with abandon. Barely ten seconds after the room exploded into motion, six goblins lay dead and three were unconscious.
“Why did you knock them out?” a soldier asked Creole in an accusatory tone.
After a quick glance to Rahmina, for he wanted her to hear his answer, he explained. “These goblins were unusually bold. I suspected as much when I saw them sitting in a circle like that. Also by the way they suddenly snapped into attack mode, I knew they were influenced by something. We might want to find out what that is.”
In the privacy of his mind he applauded himself, for the diversion would buy him more time.
Rahmina snickered after reviewing the scene. She preferred not to even deal with the smelly beasts, but she couldn’t deny the strangeness of their actions. Perhaps Creole was right. And interrogating goblins was never dangerous. “Take them outside and tie them to a tree,” she ordered her soldiers.
As they reached down to bind the creatures, the three stilled goblins transformed into a twitching fit of raking claws and gnashing teeth. Several soldiers fell away clutching filthy wounds before the others came to their rescue, making quick work of the defenseless, mangy beasts.
Creole growled in frustration. “Don’t they know how to cripple?” he snapped at Rahmina, regretting the words as he spoke them. A longing for his wife and child emerged from beneath the frustration, and they’d only been in the caves for an hour.
“Sir Duunlare,” the general retaliated firmly. “You are out of line! My soldiers are wounded, and you’re worried about the goblins?”
Creole’s hands came up defensively. “I apologize. Your soldiers are more important than goblins. I didn’t mean to imply otherwise. I just thought the beasts could quicken our quest. And I miss my family.”
Rahmina nodded. “As do we all,” she lied, for she had no loved ones.
“Any wounded should return to the village and ask for Sholee Duunlare. My wife is exceptional in the healing arts,” Creole offered
“Your wife knows magic?” Rahmina gasped.
Creole laughed at the absurd notion. “No, but she can mend wounds faster than they’ll mend themselves!”
Rahmina was in no mood to join in the woodsman’s mirth. “Those able to continue make sure the wounded get out safely, then return here.”
“All of them?” Creole whispered skeptically, the only one who dared to question the general’s orders.
Rahmina waited until they were alone, then grabbed Creole by the tunic and, with surprising strength, roughly pulled him close. “You know something you’re not telling me,” she scowled.
Creole chuckled, grabbing her hands and pulling them away. This expedition was going exactly as he planned. He straightened his tunic before looking her in the eye with an amused smile, seeing through her façade, and saw an opportunity to cut through her king’s tyrannical grip.
“You can’t get what you want from me that way. I’m not one of your soldiers,” he said with a wink.
Rahmina spun away. He was right. She realized the slip of aggressive behavior only when he pointed it out to her, and the loss of control cut her deeply. “My apologies,” she sighed. On a whim she spun back to him, realizing his tone of voice held a hint of passive prying. Her questioning gaze left an opening he couldn’t resist.
“I know you’re not the cold hearted general you pretend to be.”
Rahmina was surprised by the perceptivity of the seemingly simple woodsman. She shook her head as though the gesture would release her frustration. “It’s complicated, and irrelevant at the moment.”
“Careful with that. It could consume you.”
“What do you know about the goblins?” she asked evasively, obviously a bit intimidated.
Creole sighed. Small steps, he told himself. “I don’t know anything for certain,” he clarified honestly. Though he lost time for being unable to interrogate the goblins, it was time to skip to the next step of his plan.
She prompted him to continue with a nod.
“Their faces, the way their noses and ears kept moving, their fearlessness and reckless behavior, all of it reminds me of a tome Gurandi found in here a long time ago.”
“Gurandi?” inquired the general.
“My best friend. He taught me the goblins’ and orcs’ languages, and many other things from around the world. He’s in these caves somewhere, but whether he’s alive or dead I’m not certain.” Creole looked away to hide his teary eyes.
“My sympathies. If he’s in here, we’ll find him,” she promised.
He nodded appreciatively. “The tome described an ability to dream at will. A meditative practice allowing the mind to enter the dream state at will, and come out of it understanding clearly everything about it,” he explained.
“And these creatures achieved that state?” Rahmina scoffed, following up with a quiet laugh.
Creole shrugged. “We hid the tome in here. If the goblins stumbled across it. . . .”
“They somehow read the scribing and, even more unlikely, figured out how to reenact it?” she smirked.
“How do you explain their actions?” Creole snapped, feeling a fool for having to play dumb and hide his true knowledge. “Just a thought. I wouldn’t stake my life on it.”
Rahmina shrugged. “Some sort of possession. Maybe they ate some mind-altering fungus. . . .” She trailed off.
The soldiers’ footsteps echoed down the tunnels, able-bodied men promptly replacing the wounded.
“I will go find the tome, alone. I don’t want responsibility for the lives of your men.” Creole’s expression warned her not to argue, though she didn’t mean to anyway.
“If you run off with it. . . .” Rahmina threatened.
Creole was shaking his head before trailed off. “Trust me,” he said. “I don’t want you here longer than you need to be.” He took her torch and moved inside the nearest tunnel, stopping a few feet in. He held the end of the torch between his teeth, ignoring the heat on his cheek, and climbed a ladder they’d carved into the wall long ago. He disappeared into the ceiling.
Rahmina couldn’t explain the slight disappointment she felt upon Creole’s admission of annoyance with her presence. She’d hoped to make friends of the villagers. With a sigh, she moved to the ladder and looked up. Creole peered down at her from the top. She was about to ask if they should wait for him, but he spoke first.
“Follow the tunnel below me,” he said, pointing in the direction his tunnel led. “I’ll find you.”
Rahmina looked to her approaching soldiers, their torchlight entering the intersection just in time for Creole’s to completely wink out. Maybe it was time to test their devotion and integrity, she wondered, Creole’s earlier warning about her false personality sinking in. Perhaps a more lenient general would raise their abilities and teamwork, would make them feel more like a family. And those who took advantage of her leniency could be replaced. She’d planned to gradually incorporate such a change for tendays, but never had the courage before now.
“M’lady?” one soldier prompted.
She smiled. “Creole is searching on his own. We must trust him. I believe he will lead us to our target.” Rahmina started away.
“Time away from the castle is doing her good,” one soldier barely whispered to his friend.
The other nodded. “That was the first time I’ve seen her smile,” he added.
The general heard them, though she hid the fact. Perhaps the truth in the first soldier’s statement was the source of her courage. She couldn’t stop smiling even if she spent all her efforts on the feat, for a great weight was lifted from her shoulders. She no longer carried her secret alone.

At least a score of goblin corpses littered the tunnel floor. Fortunately the dim torchlight left most of the gruesome details in the shadows. Creole scanned the area for any sign to confirm his suspicions as to who was responsible for the slaughter. He found the most revealing sign of all.
Gurandi’s arm stuck out from beneath a pile of corpses, still clutching his sword. Creole couldn’t stop the sudden stream of tears.
“You fought well, my friend. To the last breath. Now rest. Kaia-mei is in good hands.” He couldn’t be certain of the promise, but he had to trust in his wife’s judgment.
“We’ll get you out of here,” he vowed after a moment of respective silence.
Caught up in his emotions, Creole nearly forgot his purpose in climbing to the upper tunnels. He moved his hand along the jagged wall until reaching the loose rock, then pulled it out. The object he sought rest hidden in a cubby behind that rock.
“Why did you make your stand here, old friend?” he asked the dead. He reconsidered the meditating goblins, for they obviously hadn’t learned the technique from the tome he held in his hands. Perhaps the beasts were looking for it, and Gurandi scared them away. But how would they know where to search?
The answers would have to wait.
“I’ll be back for you.” Creole knelt and touched the decomposing arm before rushing off to find the general and her soldiers.

Rahmina ignored the tingling in her legs from holding her crouched position for so long. They awaited the report from the scouts concerning another band of creatures in the tunnel not even half a mile ahead. “Finally,” she muttered, booted footsteps echoing back to her.
Three scouts rounded the bend in a hurry. “M’lady, they’re on our heels! A score of goblins and a dozen kobolds.”
“Form up,” she ordered immediately. “Shields in front! Crossbows between them!” Rahmina couldn’t quickly dismiss the bizarre combination of enemies, but her battle-hardened discipline took hold and she focused on the task at hand.
“They were ready for us, m’lady. They expected. . . .” the scout began to explain.
Rahmina held up a hand to silence him. “Not now. Focus on one-hit kills.”
Sure enough the patter of many clawed feet heralded the enemies’ approach.
“Let fly!”
Several crossbow bolts zipped out from between the shields, and the first line of goblins dropped to the ground clutching fatal wounds.
“Charge!” commanded Rahmina.
The soldiers rushed forward, shield bashing the next line of kobolds to send them flying into the goblins behind. The goblins trampled their dazed cohorts to get to the humans.
Rahmina stood three ranks behind her front line, directing the soldiers and calling out warnings whenever a goblin’s spear passed beyond the blocking shields. She suddenly noticed a torch behind the throng of smaller creatures, hovering too high to be held by a goblin or kobold, and recognized the torchbearer’s build as that of a human. She knew instinctively it was Creole.
“Push on!” she called out, determined to keep their enemy’s attention on her group so Creole could retain the advantage of surprise behind their enemy’s lines.
Creole extinguished the torch in the face of the only goblin unfocused enough to turn around, confident Rahmina’s group’s torchlight emanated sufficient light, before cutting the beast down with his sword. He pumped hard with his powerful legs, slamming into the backs of the goblins’ rear line.
The two goblins unfortunate enough to be the initial receivers of the impact were crushed between him and those ahead of them, and they fell beneath Creole’s trampling feet with broken spines. Creole pushed on until his momentum depleted, then worked his sword left and right, picking off a goblin or deflecting a wayward spear every step.
Soon enough Creole’s inertia reached the front few lines and the goblins stumbled all over each other, making easy targets for Rahmina’s soldiers. Creole stepped back, covered in the blood of his enemies as well as a little of his own, and leaned against the wall for support while the soldiers finished the job. He decided a master swordsman and tactician must’ve trained the soldiers, for very few of them earned wounds for their efforts. He didn’t even bother to check his own wounds, for he knew they weren’t serious despite the several stinging nicks pestering his arms and legs.
“Good to see you,” greeted Rahmina.
Creole nodded grimly, breathing heavily. “I think the damn green-skinned pigs multiplied over the years. I don’t remember there being so many so close together in here.”
Rahmina smiled, but saw no levity in the man’s usually sparkling eyes. “You found something?” she asked on a more serious note.
“I found your tome, and my friend’s corpse amidst a pool of goblin corpses.”
“My apologies, sir Duunlare. At least you know, now,” she comforted with a bow.
Creole tossed her the tome.
Rahmina turned to her flock. “Our work here is done for the day. Back to camp, and to our hero’s wonderful wife for those in need of healing.”
Some of the soldiers new to Rahmina’s group cringed upon the mentioning of Creole as a “hero,” one in particular looking both right and left to his two underlings who always followed him to whichever General’s division he enlisted. As all goons do for their leader, they both mimicked his dissatisfied reaction and scowled at the back of Creole’s head.

“It’s written in fairy?” Rahmina exclaimed in disbelief, looking over Creole’s shoulder as he searched for the entry about the lucid dream state.
“You know fairy?” Creole returned the surprise. This wasn’t part of his plan. He was hoping to have to translate for her.
“We have quite a library in Chea’Laern.”
Sholee, with Brinney on her lap, rolled her eyes and returned her attention to the hearth. She had to trust in Brinney’s confidence, despite the feelings her jealous heart imparted.
“Here it is,” Creole blurted suddenly.
Rahmina read the passage, but saw nothing of value to them. “It’s so vague,” she critiqued, disappointed. “It reads like a journal of rambling thoughts.”
“If what your king seeks is the same as the artifact mentioned here, I wonder if his designs are of good intentions. It only describes doom befalling those who wield it. The tome also cryptically mentions an underground library, but no clues as to its location. Even the dream entry I mentioned earlier is elusive and vague,” replied Creole. He masked the lie like a professional con artist.
“The king doesn’t inform me of his designs. Mind if I take the tome? I’d like to analyze the entire scribing tonight.” Rahmina’s disappointment remained.
“I doubt you’ll find anything Gurandi missed, but you’re welcome to try. And good luck,” he smiled. In truth he lamented letting the tome out of his sight. Gurandi would not approve. He was just happy to be home with his wife and child. The tome’s well being was currently insignificant.
“My thanks,” Rahmina said as she grabbed the book and headed for the door. “You all sleep well. I might need you again tomorrow, sir Duunlare. But I’ll give you a choice this time.”
Creole turned to his family by the hearth when the door closed. “Finally alone,” he sighed.
Sholee smiled up at him.
“The lady is trapped, daddy,” Brinney said spontaneously.
Creole cocked his head to the side curiously. “I’d have said burdened, baby. But you’re right. Did you talk with the lady?” he asked.
Brinney yawned and shook her head, then rest it on her mother’s shoulder.
“She’s fer doin’ that all day,” Sholee whispered with concern.
Creole nodded. “Anything about the wings?”
“The wings” suddenly emerged from Brinney’s imagination when Kaia-mei returned from the caves. Creole wondered if his daughter saw a fairy, but he doubted the probability. Fairies hadn’t shown themselves since Gurandi’s ancestors settled in the valley. Even the possibility that they might have come back unnerved him, for it could only foretell doom according to the tomes he’d read and the stories Gurandi had told him.
Sholee shook her head. “Mos’ly ‘bout th’ gen’ral.”
“As long as she’s healthy,” Creole sighed. “Let’s put her to bed.”
Brinney’s strange observations and minor prophecies happened more and more frequently over the past year. Creole wondered if the secret he and Sholee kept had any relevance.
“Ironic how both Gurandi and I kept only one secret from each other, and both secrets are about our daughters,” he mused silently through the pain of his best friend’s death.
The difference was Gurandi would never learn Creole’s secret.

                                                                                *

For a moment Kaia-mei’s despair dispersed into nothingness. From her perch on the southwestern side of the hill she could not only see Tuntiload resting at the bottom of the southern facing cliff, but the vast plains beyond reaching to the kingdom of Chea’Laern as well. A divine sight to even the apathetic, marvelous enough to rid a girl of her tragic burden for one precious moment, but seeing the mountains towering faintly on the distant horizon to the northwest made her wonder what awaited beyond them, in Nimbdell. Everything came flooding back, condensed into one tiny tear, which promptly dropped to the ground, leaving her, as she believed everything eventually would. She wiped her eyes at the sound of Caize’s voice behind her.
“Look. They already have guards on their way to meet us,” he observed aloud.
Secile walked passed them both, not surprised in the least. “Their watchtowers are useful.”
“We should construct watchtowers in the valley,” commented Caize as he followed the mage. “If we hadn’t gone the wrong direction that day, we would not have stopped at the cliffs. And we would not have been able to see the coming army, to warn the villagers of their approach.”
“But your towers would have to be too tall for stability because of the surrounding forest,” argued Secile.
Kaia-mei didn’t see a point to the conversation, and she kept silent. She didn’t remember going to the cliffs, or seeing any army coming for their village. She remembered only when her father left her in that alcove, then the screams of agony that followed. Then suddenly she awoke in Caize’s bed. Everything between was a smoky swirl of gray fog, and petty as far as she was concerned.
“Halt! We will come to you,” warned the guard’s resounding voice.
Secile was taken aback.
“What’s your business with Tuntiload?” he demanded after Secile and her companions were surrounded.
The mage was a bit disturbed the guards would treat children so forcefully. She glanced at Kaia-mei, concerned.
“I am Secile Schuriek of Nimbdell, escorting these young ones to the Hosttowers. We require nothing more than a short rest and horses to make our journey more swift.” The scowl on her face betrayed her annoyance with the lack of hospitality.
“Forgive me, m’lady. Just following orders. Security will be tight here for a while,” the guard bowed.
The mage found his stunning appearance a contrast to the aggressive greeting, with bright green eyes and stark white hair. He obviously held a high position, his confidence evident in those eyes and his balanced gait. “May I ask why?” Secile wondered if Chea’Laern’s army was the cause for alarm.
“Late in the night, several guards were killed. We don’t know how, or why, and have very little to work with. The wounds match that of a sword and a small axe, but we’ve questioned the entire village and found no witnesses.”
One of the guards to the side of the speaker shifted uncomfortably, his dark eyes fidgeting as much as his twiddling fingers. Secile noted the almost imperceptible gesture curiously. “No witnesses? That’s odd,” she said, eyeing the apparently nervous guard to the side.
The speaker nodded. “I am Sash Laurdien, captain of the guard. Please let us know if there is any way you might be of assistance, good mage.”
The nervous guard kept his gaze to the ground.
“I would be happy to help. But I must inquire as to who was on watch last night. Surely you had guards posted in the towers and at intervals throughout the village perimeters.” Secile watched the suspicious guard the entire time, not surprised in the least when the captain indicated him as one assigned to the western watchtower.
“Your name, sir?” the mage asked him, interrupting the captain’s list.
The man’s gaze snapped up, sweat glistening on his nose in the hot afternoon sun. He brushed a loch of his oily brown hair from his eyes, and glanced to his leader as if expecting, hoping for, Sash to divert the mage’s attention. Secile ignored the captain’s confused, inquisitive expression.
“Baurdi Harthaway, lady of Nimbdell,” he said softly when it was apparent the captain would not intervene.
“Well met, Baurdi. Are you certain you saw nothing last night? The western watchtower is the most important of the three, what with the Woldwoods and the many goblin and orc tribes hiding in the hills just south of the dangerous forest. Since the east is mostly ocean, the most likely danger would come from the west.”
“What is this?” demanded the captain, not appreciating being left in the dark when one of his trusted soldiers was being interrogated.
Caize couldn’t even blink, so infused he was with the conversation. Even Kaia-mei seemed engrossed despite her foul mood.
“Easy, captain. I mean no harm. It just seems most likely to me that whatever killed your men and those villagers must have come from the west. And if Baurdi oversaw the protection of that side of the village, he would be the one to notice any irregularity, correct?”
Secile turned to the heavily perspirating man with a friendly smile. “If you fell asleep, or were occupied with something else, let us know. At least then we would be able to more accurately guess from which direction the danger approached, or if the attacker was invisible in the case that you did keep a vigilant watch.”
“I am a devoted watchman!” Baurdi snapped in defense. Both Caize and Kaia-mei bristled at the sudden escalation of the conversation.
“That I do not doubt,” Secile nodded with calm sincerity. “But we are only human. One cannot control the wariness in their body if it is too great. Were you active before your watch, good Baurdi, perhaps too active? Maybe you had a bit to drink? Or a lady friend accompanied you on your watch? Please, Baurdi. We must bring the killer to justice for the sake of the families and friends of the dead. Anything you can tell us will help.”
“That’s enough!” the captain said sharply.
Baurdi seemed about to explode. “Why am I the only one being questioned? Frank was there, too!”
The guard directly behind Baurdi stepped forward and squeezed his friend’s shoulder reassuringly. His helmet concealed the color of his hair, but his eyes were a dull brown. He was the same height and build as his friend, as well as most of the other soldiers, though he was the only one with blemishes covering his face. “No need to get upset, friend. Tell them what happened.”
Baurdi sighed in acquiescence. He closed his eyes and took a calming breath before divulging the information. “I feel so bad for them,” he nearly cried. “I didn’t mean to get them killed. We had no choice!”
The captain gasped, looking at both Baurdi and Frank as if betrayed. Kaia-mei grabbed Secile’s hand and leaned close, not wanting to hear the tale but unable to tune it out. Caize was riveted as well.
“Go on, good Baurdi. We know you didn’t kill them,” comforted Secile.
Baurdi breathed deeply again, a tear escaping his right eye. “They came out of nowhere. Two men, one with dark hair and angular features, the other blond with a soft round face. That’s all I could see, their faces. Frank and I were talking. I suddenly heard a noise from behind, inside the watchtower with us, and I turned around.”
A hawk soared overhead. Its cry fell perfectly between the pause of silence in Baurdi’s recounting of the event, and it startled Kaia-mei. No one else seemed to notice.
“Frank started to call out when he saw the sword at my throat, but the men warned us to be quiet or they would take our lives.” Baurdi hung his head in shame.
Frank decided to finish for his shaken friend. “The dark haired man, who I assume was the leader of the pair, showed us a small glass ball containing strange sparks of light. We assumed it was a dangerous magical device. He said it could destroy the entire village within a few seconds. He said if we didn’t let them have their way, they would use it.” Frank shrugged, obviously ignorant of anything magical.
Silence befell the group. The captain didn’t know what to think. Should he discipline his men for failing in their duty when they thought the entire village was at stake if they didn’t let the intruders pass? He probably would’ve done the same, assuming they were nothing more than petty thieves.
Secile nodded solemnly, satisfied that both men told the truth. “You couldn’t have known,” she said at length.
All eyes turned to regard her, curious.
“Your choice to spare the whole village at the sacrifice of a few lives was what anyone would have done, even your captain I’d guess.”
The captain nodded, and both Frank and Baurdi sighed with relief.
Secile despised the fact that even those few lives could have been saved had the villagers, and guards, been more informed in the ways of magic. “However, in the case that this situation is repeated in the future, if those men come back thinking to trick you again, their supposed magical device is used for nothing more than long distance communication. It was harmless. But again,” she continued upon seeing the crestfallen looks on the faces of Baurdi and Frank, “you could not have known.”
“The important thing is,” added the captain, “now we have a description of the suspects. They will be brought to justice.” He gave Secile an appreciative look as he ended. Without her they would have nothing. “You may feast and rest for free, lady Secile. And your horses will be picked from the guard’s cavalry; the finest we have.”
“Thank you, sir,” Secile bowed. “Glad to be of service.”
“As for you two,” the captain continued, eyeing Baurdi and Frank disconcertingly. “Your punishment will be light, for your intentions were pure, but we cannot have you on watch for a while. You should have been open with me. We owe any progress from here on to Secile for having to pry the information from you, and we are fortunate they even decided to come this way. Trust will not come easy between us in the future.”
Baurdi and Frank bowed in unison. “Yessir, captain,” they replied formally.
Caize looked up at Secile in admiration, thinking this journey could get very interesting.
Kaia-mei walked close to the mage all the way to the stables.

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SwordMistress avatar General Friend

July 22, 2008

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SwordMistress reviewed Version 1 - Read 100% of the Item

I enjoyed this chapter as well. The story is moving right along and keeps giving us questions we want answers to! I keep detecting a hint of R.A. Salvatore.

“Creole recognized Rahmina’s eagerness to be done with the search, which revealed to him a slight chance her loyalty to the king was weak.” Awkward. We already know that this is in Creole’s pov so you don’t need to say in recognized Rahmina’s eagerness or use ‘to him’. Suggestion. ‘Rahmina’s eagerness to be done with the search revealed a chance that her loyalty to the king was weak.  

“to the general inquisitively.” I don’t think you need the adverb. It’s obvious that he didn’t hear her.

“enabling a picture of the layout of the area occupied by the goblins.” This is awkward, the word enabling and the use of ‘of’ twice.

“the general informed him.” If there is no doubt who is speaking it isn’t necessary to use a dialogue tag or an action tag.

“Rahmina felt”  POV shift.

“badly outnumbered and outmatched.” The reader needs a sense earlier on of how many people are in the tunnel. At first it seemed like Creole and Rahmina were alone, then there was a mention of a scout and now suddenly the dozen or so goblins are out numbered. Although it may be obvious that they would take men with them I just didn’t feel their presence.

“for he wanted her to hear his answer,” now we’re back to Creole’s POV.

“but she couldn’t deny”  POV shift.

“she scowled.” Scowling is a facial expression, not a way of speaking

“Small steps, he told himself.” POV shift.

“though she didn’t mean to anyway.” This is in Creole’s POV. He wouldn’t know what she meant to do unless she told him.

“Rahmina couldn’t explain” POV shift.

“Soon enough Creole’s inertia” Is inertia the best word here? It usually means inactivity.
“nodded grimly, breathing heavily.” Two adverbs close together are awkward and not very effective.

“she critiqued, disappointed.” Since it’s Sholee’s pov you need to show the disappointment.

“He masked the lie” Creole’s POV

“Brinney said spontaneously.” Delete spontaneously.  since Brinney has been sitting there without a word it obvious that her words are spontaneous. You’ve also done a good job setting up the character of Brinney. We are to her suddenly giving these bits of information without warning.

“then rest” rested

“he mused silently” Thoughts never belong in quotes.

“Then suddenly” ‘delete suddenly’

“The mage found his stunning” POV shift.

uncomfortably curiously.  apparently etc. You get a bit carried away with adverbs. Only use an adverb when you can’t find any other way to describe.

“a loch of his” lock

I like the twist of the two men attacking the village. I have a feeling this isn’t the last we’ll hear from those men.

“control the wariness” I think you mean weariness.

“he nearly cried.” Either he cried or he didn’t.

“Kaia-mei walked close to the mage all the way to the stables.”

This seemed like an odd ending point for the chapter. Why’d you chose to end the chapter here?

I look forward to reading the next chapter. I’m so glad I started reading this!

DragonQueen avatar General Friend

July 20, 2008

DragonQueen

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DragonQueen reviewed Version 1 - Read 100% of the Item

Creole wondered if he was wise in taking Rahmina to the eastern entrance; the most direct route.

I’m not sure you need the most direct route.

“You aren’t getting soft on me, now, are you?”

I would change it to: “You’re not getting soft on me, now, are you?”

I liked it and besides these few mistakes it was awssome. I will look for more.

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Dexus Prolific-icon-medium

Age: 26
Loc: Colorado Springs, CO
Gen: M
Last Login: October 06
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