Nick

Hello family and fellow robiners,

I don’t have a lot to say about what’s going on in my life.  The kids are well; Logan just turned six and Katisyn is about to turn four.  They are both healthy, happy and well adjusted.  Jessica is still a stay at home mom, and I’m still working at Columbia.  Life is good, and when Obama wins, it will be even better.  One thing I have been working on in my spare time is a book.  Those who know me well can probably guess that it is a fantasy novel.  It’s not the Great American Novel or anything fancy, it’s just a knock down, drag ‘em through the mud, blood and guts fantasy.  I have a lot of work left to do, but I guess that I am about halfway done with the actual writing part.  Editing and revising will be next, of course.  Just so that I don’t end my submission with only one paragraph, I have included the first chapter of the book.  Please keep in mind that it is still a work in progress that has not gone through the editing process yet, so may still be a little rough.  Anyway, I hope you enjoy it!

*****

The dark bearded dwarf sat by the fire, warming his rough, calloused hands against autumn’s encroaching chill.  He was dusty and squint eyed against the blaze of the fire, but wary against what the night might hold.  A sudden click like that of a snapped twig somewhere in the dark caught his attention, and his right hand went immediately to his side.  Stub Thunderslayer slowly rose to his feet from the log he had been sitting on.  The night was as dark as a cave, and the fire by his side cast flickering shadows on the tall fir trees surrounding him.  As he stood, Stub felt for the hand axe at his belt, loosening the leather thongs that held it in place.  Stub’s dwarven eyes normally allowed him to see in dark like this, but the light of the fire he had been warming himself by kept his dark-vision dim.  Outside the ring of firelight, a green glowing pair of eyes appeared at the height of a tall man’s head.  As Stub’s well balanced, single bladed axe was finally freed, the eyes vanished. 

With a roar, Stub leaped forward brandishing his axe and bellowing a challenge:  “Who goes there!  I have been stalked before, much to the regret of my assailants!  Show yourself or I will come for you!”

A deep voice issued from the woods.  “Easy dwarf.  I mean you no harm.  If I have been stealthy, it is only to ascertain that you were not in league with the goblins I have been tracking.”

With these words, a tall, fair man stepped from behind a massive, thick trunked cedar tree and into the firelight.  The man was clad in a forest green cloak and the garb of a ranger.  His trousers were faded brown and well mended; his shirt the color of bark and with many pockets.  A pack was on his back under his cloak, and a longsword sheathed at his side.  Stub had a curious moment of revulsion, though the man’s outward appearance gave no reason for it.  After a moment, Stub realized that it was because the man’s eyes had glowed green – the mark of an elf.  Yet this was no elf, despite the eyes and long, fair hair.  He was too tall and did not have the leanness of an elf.  This was a half breed – part elf and part man.

Stub was mistrustful.  Yet he felt obliged to offer the courtesy of the road; a stranger coming in peace should be given a place by the fire and a bite to eat.  He introduced himself, speaking loudly in the thick accent of his homeland of Crah Trum:  “I am known as Stub of the Thunderslayer Clan of Crah.  How are you called?”

The stranger spoke the tongue of Thar softly and without accent:  “Please call me James.  As I said, I come hunting goblins.”

“Well, you may share my fire, though I fear I have only meat to offer for sustenance” said Stub gruffly.

James smiled and put up his left hand.  “Thank you, but I don’t eat meat” he said.

Stub was incredulous, and muttered under his breath “what next, a flying lizard?”

James laughed politely and explained himself.  “I know that to some it seems strange that I would not eat meat.  It’s simply part of who I am.  Meat comes from animals, and I am a protector of animals and of the forest.”

“But yet you hunt goblins” persisted Stub.

“Yes indeed” replied James.  “Goblins are no more animals than you or I.  They are abominations who exist only to destroy that which they cannot take by force.  It is my duty to hunt them and any others who would seek to harm the forest.”

“It sounds like a lot of work for one man” posed Stub.

James smiled inwardly at this.  Sometimes it did feel like he was the only ranger in Thar.  There was so much to be done, and since he had left the Tharian army he was all alone.  He addressed Stub as best he knew how:  “It is…  There are more like me, but few this far north.  I seek to join up with those other rangers I can find in the Serpent Spine Mountains.  That is why I travel to Fort Serpent’s Spine, and I track goblins along the way.”  As he said his last word, James heard what sounded like steel being stealthily drawn from a scabbard somewhere in the darkness.

Stub was starting to warm up to this half-elven ranger.  He considered whether to reveal that he knew James’ secret, but decided that the truth was better unsaid.  He was about to reply when events unfolded in a brutally quick fashion.

James suddenly leapt to his feet and drew his longsword in one smooth transition.  “Your weapons, Stub!  The goblins have backtracked and they are upon us!”

Before Stub could react, a black feathered shaft flew through the flames and into a burning chunk of wood, throwing up a cloud of sparks.  A moment later, another buried itself in the fallen log where James had been sitting an instant before.

As Stub stood, he reached over his shoulder and pulled loose his enormous double bladed dwarven battle axe.  This axe was not to be trifled with, nor was the wielder.  Both were weather worn and hard, and one as deadly as the other.  Fire light glinted off the razor sharp edge of the black steel blade as Stub looked around for the enemy.  And then they were upon him, with wicked scimitars swinging wildly and warbling shouts in the strange tongue of goblins.

The apparent leader was the first into the fray, more muscled than the other goblins and wielding a black iron jagged edged scimitar in each hand.  The goblins were all painted in the colors of their tribe, red, blue and black in this case.  Following the leader were two hulking goblins with the look of twins, one shaven headed and bearing an axe as enormous as Stub’s, and the other with a topknot and a huge club.  As the leader charged James, the twins were upon Stub.

The top-knotted goblin reached Stub first, and with a high pitched screech put all his both hands and all his strength into a strike down upon where Stub had been.  Stub easily sidestepped the crude blow and returned with a two handed swing into the upper back and shoulder of the sweaty, olive green skinned goblin.  The blow threw the goblin sideways and forward into the fire, immediately dousing the flames where he lay dying and screaming.

The sudden darkness had no effect on James or the goblin captain as each could see as well as the other in low light.  The goblin was raining ferocious blows with great intensity on James which James was blocking with all his speed and skill.  Seizing an opportunity, James lashed out with his booted right foot and caught the goblin under the chin, throwing him back and causing a growl of anger.  This brief respite was enough for James to take the offensive, which he did without hesitation, taking advantage of his sword’s superior length to put the goblin on the defensive.

While this was going on, Stub leaped forward in a massive bound to engage the bald pated goblin.  This goblin had long scars running down each cheek, making the large eyes, small flat nose and bulging eyes of the goblin even more frightening.  The goblin blocked Stub’s blow, and both giant axes crossed momentarily, each opponent looking into each other’s eyes with hatred.  As both fighters strained, Stub’s face started broadening into a smile, and with a roar he unleashed the power of his mighty thews and arms, heaving the goblin backwards into the air.  Stub laughed aloud as he advanced on the suddenly frightened goblin, who with a gibbering whimper turned tail to flee into the dark.

Meanwhile, James and the goblin leader were locked in desperate combat.  Each had received minor wounds from the other and were bleeding, blood flowing black in the starlight.  Both were tiring, but James was finding a rhythm to the combat that was slowly starting to give him the advantage.  Finally, a feint to the left followed by a center mass thrust impaled the goblin chief on James’ sword.  James had to quickly step back to avoid the flailing death throes, the last desperate blows of a dying goblin warrior.

Stub saw none of this.  His attention was on the fleeing goblin, and he quickly drew his handaxe.  As he was about to throw, an arrow suddenly flew from the trees and stuck in the crease of Stub’s thick leather armor where the shoulder pad met the neck piece.  Stub’s thrown axe went wide, and he immediately searched about for his attacker.  Spotting the black clad goblin archer crouched behind a fern, Stub threw his double bladed axe horizontally, spinning like a deadly wagon wheel in the dark.  This time, Stub’s aim was accurate, and the mighty axe caught the goblin in the chest, killing him instantly.

Stub was weaponless now, but far from harmless.  He could see that the bald goblin had fled, and he searched the darkness for more enemies.  Seeing none, he turned in time to see James pulling his longsword from the chest of the dead goblin commander.

“James!” called out Stub.  “How many did you track?”

James looked around at the dead goblins and said “three, maybe four.  Are there any left alive?”

“Sadly, yes” replied Stub.  “One of them ran off after I put the fear of dwarves into him.”

“Too bad” was James’ answer.  “Though we’ll likely not see him again.  Goblins are cowards except when there are many of them or they are cornered.  I shall track him again in the morning if I can find his trail.”

Stub grunted and turned to find his axes.  Stub was surprised by how he felt about this half-elf.  Indeed, the fellow seemed to have none of the fanciness or haughtiness that he had expected to find in an elf.  Of course he had never actually met an elf before, but this one seemed all right.  What else might he find different in this great world from the tales he had been told growing up in the isolated dwarven homeland?  Perhaps he would travel with this ranger to Fort Serpent’s Spine.  Indeed, it seemed there was much more to learn about the world outside Crah Trum than he had even suspected.

Stub found his small hand axe stuck in the thick, deeply creviced brown bark of a towering cedar.  He pulled it free with a sudden smile and returned to where his new found friend crouched, trying to relight the fire.

*****

Love,

Nick