Alison Sky ([info]alison_sky) wrote in [info]nanowrimo,
@ 2006-09-07 12:07:00
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Entry tags:prompt writing

NaNo Writing Excercise - 2006/1
OK kiddies. Here's is a writing excercise to take away some boredom in your day. Participation is optional, and no, this does not in any way, shape or form, have to come from what you want to write for NaNo. It's just an excercise to get the mindpump working.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*


Genre: Fantasy

Main Characters:

Male. Theif. Just stolen the signet ring of the King
Male. Sheriff. Hunting down the Theif.
Female. Daughter of the King. Hunting down Theif.


Challenge: Write at least a 500 word scene from this "novel". It can be anywhere (beginning, middle, end). Use at least two of the characters and interact. Post your work below as a comment. Then feel free to read and comment other people's scenes.

And like NaNo, quality doesn't qualify ;)

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[info]upandabove
2006-09-07 04:22 pm UTC (link)
Thief.

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The Shining Jewels of Thalen
[info]tmstanton
2006-09-07 04:47 pm UTC (link)
Had to! This is fun, and perfect to shake up the middle of my work day, thanks :)

Word Count:603

Rory meandered through the crowded, narrow streets of the city. People bustled by with their shopping and children, coming from what he assumed would be a day of schooling. His hand in his pocket – always in his pocket – he looked down the boulevard toward the harbor, where he knew a boat was waiting for him, the ticket only needing to be picked up. The capitol city of Thalen was a glistening jewel on the coast of the vast kingdom of King Marco, Queen Cassandra, and their daughter Princess Aliah. Princess Aliah was possibly considered more beautiful than the city itself, or so Rory had heard. The closest he had ever come to the royal family was just the night before, when he had snuck expertly in to their sleeping chambers and removed a masculine, beautifully shiny ring from the bedside table of the supposedly evil King Marco. Really, he had only wanted a reminder of his times on these streets. The many exploits of the city’s top thief needed to be concluded with some fantastic feat.

Now, he knew, the King himself was after him, hunting through the forests that surrounded the city on the side that wasn’t touched by ocean. Maybe the King would go as far as the deserts and mountains on the far side of the forest, but he would never know, as Rory would be gone by sun set. Of course, Rory didn’t intend to stumble in to the shy beggar maid in the street. He didn’t intend to ask her to coffee and a hookah for the afternoon. He never meant to meet the very daughter of the very King he had just stolen from, but Cassandra had meant for it all.

She was stooping a bit, so as not to seem so tall, and she walked in to him perfectly on purpose, dropping the heavy shopping canvas bag that she’d been carrying all through the city, looking for the man they said was untraceable. She had heard rumors of his stature and the respect the other thieves held for him, but she had planned to find him either way. He had taken the one thing worth more to her father than even herself or her mother, and she knew that the King would fight to find that ring until the day he died. She didn’t want her father dead, and so against her mother’s wishes had left the safety of the palace walls to find the stolen bauble herself. She looked up quickly at Rory’s broad shoulders and long, fashionable, black hair. His skin was paler than she would have thought, as most of the peasants or workers of the city had darker skin, stained from the sun after many years outside. Then again, she supposed he spent most of his time looking out from the shadows and for a moment, staring at him in the middle of the street, she felt a bit bad for him. He was handsome though, when he realized she’d dropped her things he bent to help pick them up again, never taking his left hand from his pocket. He handed her the bag and smiled a bright and clean smile and she nodded shyly back, knowing she needed to keep his attention without being too obvious. And then, with out any such work on her part, he invited her to a coffee and a hookah to pass the afternoon hours. She smiled shyly one more time and accepted the invitation, feeling that either he was aware of her rouse, or this was going to be much easier than she had thought.

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Re: The Shining Jewels of Thalen
[info]syaffolee
2006-09-07 08:07 pm UTC (link)
Heh. That princess is pretty devious.

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Re: The Shining Jewels of Thalen
[info]tmstanton
2006-09-08 02:02 pm UTC (link)
:) I love it.

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[info]travelintheways
2006-09-07 06:25 pm UTC (link)
^ I love that! I adore a tricksy princess.

“It was such a humiliating spectacle. Most of them had the decency not to say anything, but Lady Brige would let her tongue wag.”

Cinda clicked her tongue and tried to look busy. Her lady had insisted that she knew the best way to pack her things for this chase, as if Cinda had not spent her youth preparing her male relations for hunts just like these. She stirred dead ashes in the fireplace and touched the priceless artifacts strewn across the mantle. A few moments later she floated to the door, and there she heard echoes from heeled boots striding through the marble corridor.

“Princess,” she said as she turned around, “I believe Sir Darinnot is here.”

The Princess Estine glanced at her servant, and Cinda noted with no little amusement the surprised frown on her face, as if she had completely forgotten about the other woman’s presence. “What makes you-” she began but was interrupted by a knock at the door.

Cinda grinned, and the princess rolled her eyes. “Yes, very well. Let him in.”

Per her orders, Cinda drew the bolt on the door and bowed the young man into the suite. He swept in with a swagger like the king himself and seemed to feel none of the embarrassment any decent man would feel at entering a lady’s private quarters. Not only was he not embarrassed, but Cinda winced to see a crooked grin on his face and a gleam in his eye. This hunt was going to wear on her nerves, she knew.

Cinda repressed a sigh as the sheriff eyed the princess’s traveling bags a little too closely. If Darinnot annoyed her lady, her lady would annoy her, and what was more, when Darinnot did not get what he was chasing from the princess, he would very likely turn to the lady’s servant. Cinda knew the reputation palace servants had. Well, maybe it was deserved, but even she was allowed her standards.

The princess caught Cinda’s eye for a moment, lips tight and jaw clenched, before turning to the Sheriff with a sweet smile on her face. “Sheriff, you are very welcome. With you leading the hunt, I have full confidence that we will find the thief and return my father’s ring by sundown.”

“Of course,” he replied as he crossed the room to touch a delicate figurine. This time Cinda allowed herself a quiet sigh. She would have to pay that figurine extra attention the next time she cleaned Estine’s treasures; the oil from human fingertips would stain the wafer-thin stone. The cleansing solution smelled foul and burned the skin. “Yes, I will hunt a ring while village boys are left to chase the man who has terrorized the streets for the past month.”

Estine made a sympathetic noise, and Cinda wondered how much longer the princess would hold her tongue. The princess had a surprising reservoir of patience for one raised with such deference, but once that reservoir ran out, she snapped violently. More than one of her treasures had suffered a clamorous death at Estine’s hand, shattering against the ornate gilt the lined the walls.

“We can leave as soon as you like, Sheriff. My father has set aside his swiftest horses and smoothest carriages for us.”

Darinnot returned his attention to the princess and grimaced. “No carriages, and we will not need those horses for long. If that man has any sense at all, he will flee through the emerald swamp.”

The swamp. Cinda would never get the smell out of her clothes. Judging by her expression, Estine was thinking the same thing.

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[info]syaffolee
2006-09-07 08:22 pm UTC (link)
That's an interesting choice to include a third character--the princess's lady-in-waiting. Seems like she's going to be dragged through the whole debacle. :)

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[info]tmstanton
2006-09-08 02:04 pm UTC (link)
I like Cinda, and how the girls seems to feed off each other, it's a great relationship so far.

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[info]terredancer
2006-09-07 06:52 pm UTC (link)
Her father the King had forbade her from going.

It was a minor matter, best left to the Sheriff and his men, and he pleaded with her to listen to better reason. She smiled and nodded, able to play the meek when she so chose. She gathered her skirts about her and departed from his throne room, all the while planning how best to accomplish it without getting caught before she even got far enough from the castle to do any good. By the time she reached her own chambers, some three floors above the throne-room, she thought she had it.

It would involve some trickery, but the Trickster God had been her favourite Patron, so she thought she might be able to manage it.

She traded her long unwieldy skirts for something more suitable to the long travels that would be necessary, if what she had heard from the whispering servants was even remotely close to the truth, and the long elegant braid for a knot at the base of her neck so as to not interfere. The deep green of the close-fitting trouser-set she chose would be scandalous among the people, but it would make it easier for her to masquerade in the darkside hours that would mark the beginning of her journey.

The addition of some rope left behind from her adolescent rebellions provided a perfect touch to the initial plans. Her window was nearer the stables than the front, where she could find one of her favourites among the King's prized collection of horses, many of whom she had ridden. She leaned out the window, balancing carefully to make certain that the rope would hold strong under her weight.

As she did so, however, the sound of male voices drifted upward to her. Lirande looked down at the top of the Sheriff's head as he sent his second-in-command to the far reaches of the forests. The forests were many, many miles away, so that as much as anything confirmed the whispering from the servants that had informed her of the robbery.

Why the nerve! He hasn't even left yet.

A half-smile tugged at her lips; her timing would have to be just perfect if she was to do this properly. So just as he stepped into view from the protections the castle might give, she launched herself from the window, the rope still chafing against her hands. As she descended, she closed her eyes and asked that her plan worked. The most obvious indication of the success of her plan was the sudden collison of her body with another.

She fought down a fleeting grin. Ooops.

From beneath her, she heard a low groan of her name. Lirande looked down at him, thinking for perhaps the hundredth time that he was the grandest of fools. A swift motion that her weapons teacher had taken time to teach her made certain that was all he said.

She rose to her feet, and looked around. There was one of the horses with all the packs with all the equipment that he was going to need on the trip. Surely, in the state he was in, he wouldn't miss it all, at least not for a couple of hours.

When she rode away from the castle, toward the main road, nobody even thought to question.

Luck was on her side. So far. It wasn't bound to last, however.

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[info]syaffolee
2006-09-07 08:24 pm UTC (link)
Ah, a princess who literally kicks butt. We need more of those.

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[info]terredancer
2006-09-08 12:28 am UTC (link)
That's what I've always thought. *g*

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[info]tmstanton
2006-09-08 02:04 pm UTC (link)
I love the last two lines.

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[info]syaffolee
2006-09-07 07:43 pm UTC (link)
The birch twig crackled three times in the hearth, spitting glowing sparks into the air. An ill omen.

Tangred slowly straightened up, feeling his knees pop. The skin under his eye patch itched. The morning divination had not warmed him--another bad sign. The first frost had come and stayed, the snow chilling everything. Nothing warmed properly, not even the morning porridge. His small office in the corner of the parliament building was poorly insulated, the first to become stifling in the summer and the first to freeze in the winter. Just that reason alone made him reconsider his post.

A knock at the door made him pause as he walked to his scarred oak desk that had been shoved to the corner of the room for the Instrument that the alchemists from the Royal Academy had insisted on stashing in his office. He called out for the person to enter.

A woman stood on the threshold when the door opened. The first thing Tangred noticed was her paleness and her red mouth. She wore a velvet green overcoat that made her eyes glimmer and her dark hair was pinned underneath a matching wide-brimmed hat with dyed plumes. He recognized her, Lady Fanlen, a close advisor to the king and the daughter of a supposed witch. It was rumored that she was also the king's bastard. Tangred could see that--her straight aquiline nose and high cheekbones mirrored that of the monarch.

"My lady, what brings you to my humble office?" Slowly, he made his way back so that the Instrument stood between them.

Fanlen's mouth curved ever so slightly in amusement. "My dear Sheriff, I have a job for you on behalf of the king. I am sure that it will bring you out of your boredom. It concerns a certain signet ring that was in his possession.”

“Was?”

“It was stolen from him. We are pretty sure the culprit is a man named Gillon. I want you to help me track him.”

He shivered, not from the cold. “You ask much of me, my lady. That man is too dangerous to be handled by myself, let alone a dabbling diviner.”

“You knew Gillon, did you not?”

“Knew is perhaps too tepid a word. I knew him from the university. He claimed to be a friend. And then he took my eye.”

Fanlen cocked her head and then stepped close enough to touch the instrument. “You’re angry. I can see it since you are coloring. But it is a subtle thing. An ordinary observer would not be able to tell.” She smiled as if she could see something else. “Perhaps the king was right to insist upon you.”

“I think he is wrong.”

“You really don’t have the authority to dispute his majesty’s word,” she replied. She reached out to touch the top of his hand. Her fingers were remarkably warm despite her pallor. “We do not have any time to lose. The more we speak, the further the thief’s trail will be.”

Tangred didn’t like her look. Her eyes were intense as if she was trying to mesmerize him. “I have other responsibilities as well—like this Instrument.”

She gave a small laugh. “Those absent-minded alchemists won’t know if you’re gone a day or two. Come, the carriage is awaiting us.”

As he went to get his coat, he wondered how she even knew that the Instrument belonged to the alchemists.

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[info]s0kate
2006-09-08 12:22 am UTC (link)
love that one! very interesting take.

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[info]zephret
2006-09-08 05:19 am UTC (link)
How unique! I like it :)

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[info]tmstanton
2006-09-08 02:07 pm UTC (link)
I love the sheriff character! He's got such a story behind him, you can tell.

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[info]omahastar
2006-09-07 09:17 pm UTC (link)
Trying to do this from work, and I keep getting interrupted, so here's what I've got. It's a bit over 300. Will try to continue later.

* * *

23 October, 2007

Dearest Mother,

I have arrived in Atlanta, still searching for Jacques. My sources have informed me he may be staying at a seedy motel near the airport. I have engaged the services of a local to assist me in the area.

Will contact with more information when I can.

Love always,
Jayne

Princess Jayne, granddaughter of the King of Rainae, had been entrusted with the Signet Ring. It was an heirloom from the very first King, passed down to each generation. He who controlled the Ring controlled the land of Rainae.

Jayne had been happily dining out during that warm May evening when she met Jacques. The handsome man charmed his way into her life, and they soon announced their betrothal to the King and Queen.

While the Queen was quite pleased, the King did not trust Jacques. There was something about the way Jacques studied the objects and people surrounding him that made the King suspicious.

And then six weeks ago, Jayne had woken from a dreamless sleep, hair damp with sweat, feeling a sense of loss. The Ring was gone.

For her Royal Portrait, Princess Jayne wore the Ring. During the day, as the artist Mokala painted her image onto the canvas, she was dressed in very elaborate clothing and jewels. At night, the jewels were kept in a wooden box next to her four-poster oak bed.

And then the Ring was missing. And so was Jacques.

She had spent the next six weeks tracking him down from city to city, country to country. Also tracking him down was the Royal Sheriff, Maertens, who had been under the employ of the King for well beyond twice her lifetime, and who was due to retire only last week. The King denied his retirement, at least until the Ring had been returned.

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The Ring of Igowen
[info]s0kate
2006-09-08 12:07 am UTC (link)
Igowen was bustling with the news, townspeople and clergy, every member of the bourgeoisie; the entire kingdom was in an uproar. The King's ring had been stolen during his previous night's sleep and the entire city was looking for the ring, but Sheriff Alderon was on the case.

Alderon went straight to the castle when he was woken a few hours before sunrise. In the wee hours of the morning, the case was presented to him while the King fretted atop his throne. The Sheriff was accustomed to these types of calls, but this one was different. The King's signet ring had been taken from his own hand while he slept in the royal bedchamber.

Now, in the bustle of the city, Alderon skimmed the crowd for any suspicious behaviour as he spotted someone familiar in the crowd. He couldn't place the face, however.

The familiar face suddenly spotted him and mounted a horse, galloping away from the center of Igowen instead of waving at him or otherwise showing some sign of acknowledgment. Alderon was convinced this must be not only someone he knew, but also the thief! If he could just place that face, he knew he had who he was looking for.

Alderon ran back to his horse and followed the man he was sure was the thief out of town. Alderon rode hard and fast and his horse was more than able, but by the time he reached the edge of town, Alderon realized the fugitive had outrun him. He was about to dismount his horse and look for tracks, when he saw something strange down the road, coming from the wood.

As he peered into the wood, he kept his horse at a slow walk, and listened carefully. There was a soft singing, but that only of the birds that lived in such a wood. Alderon crept up on the soft, glowing light, which was coming from the glen, a few hundred feet from the edge of the road.

A nagging feeling pulled at his stomach, as he dismounted his horse. He stepped quietly as his feet went, one-after-another, into the soft green moss. As he got closer to the light, he realized that it was coming from the general vicinity of the mystery man he had been attempting to follow. But now Alderon knew, it wasn't a man.

She winked when she saw him, and immediately he knew. It was no man; it was no thief. It was none other than the Princess Lylie. He hadn't recognized her before, in a man's street clothes, but here, in the wood, with her hair flowing, her face glowing in the light cast by the ...

'No, it couldn't be,' he thought to himself. But it was. It was the King's signet ring. It was the signet ring, and she was standing at the center of a pentacle drawn in sand, and she was singing. She was singing not so much to herself, as to the birds.

And she was looking straight at him. He shivered in his boots; the hair stood on the back of his neck.


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Re: The Ring of Igowen
[info]syaffolee
2006-09-08 03:47 am UTC (link)
I like the ending--creepy.

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Re: The Ring of Igowen
[info]tmstanton
2006-09-08 02:10 pm UTC (link)
def. creepy!

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[info]sansele
2006-09-08 02:50 am UTC (link)
"Oof!" A heavy thud sounded from below, and a head nervously poked out from the balcony.

"Your Highness, I don't think this is a good idea-"

"Nonsense! This is my great adventure! To see the world! To get back special treasures! To fight evil! I'll be back before dinner tomorrow."

"I thought you just wanted to help search the castle for the signet ring!" A fruitless search maybe, but it would certainly keep the princess out of trouble. A pause, and then the sound of someone brushing themselves off.

"Whatever. A thief took Dad's ring, I'm getting it back."

"But you're not armed! You have no provisions!"

"I have a slingshot. I'll be fine. Ciao for now!"

In the weak light of the breaking morning, Clarissa could see the princess jauntily waving, then she turned towards the village, and walked off. Once, a moat would have prevented the girl from constantly escaping, but now, what with rising water bills and repair costs, it simply wasn't logical to spend money on pretty landscaping like that. The maid sighed again.

"I take it that you won't be back for lessons with your tutor in the afternoon then?"
She didn't really expect a reply anyway. But it was time to raise the alarm. A little bit of magic and the bedroom mirror, and soon the hazy vision of a man started to manifest itself in the shiny surface.

A man who was still wrapped in his bedclothes, snoring away. Clarissa glared.

“Sir!” He rolled over again. “Sir!” She called.

An eye opened blearily, then caught sight of her.

“Argh!” Much rolling in the sheets and falling on the floor occurred.

“Woman, don’t wake me up so early!”

The maid stared impassively at him. Why men had the urge to sleep naked, she had no idea. Anyway.

"Sir, a terrible thing has happened."

“Yes, yes, the signet ring is gone, we’re all doomed, I’m trying to find the thief, all right?!”

“…It’s more than that.”

“…Crap. Are the princesses also coming?”

“Well, only one, sir. Her sister's asleep still, lazy pig.”

The man was lost in thought for a moment, then his eyes narrowed.
“You helped Princess Sarah leave, didn’t you?”

A sheepish glance, and the maid looked away.

"Sir, it's not that easy to refuse her! She tried dropping a vase. You know. The Vase."
“Ah, yes. The Vase.”

The king's signet ring was undeniably important. But heads would roll, splinter and grow legs if the Vase was cracked in any way. The thief was so lucky he (or she, musn't be sexist) hadn't even touched that.

“I trust you’ve put it in a safe place?”

“Somewhat sir.” A lie, of course.

“So now I have to look after a stubborn, spoilt princess, and also look for the all-important signet ring. Fantastic. Best way to start the day.”

“Sir?”

“What?”

“It's the ten-year-old on the loose."

An unholy cry of misery rose from the inn room, sending the pigeons roosting on the roof scattering in terror.

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[info]syaffolee
2006-09-08 03:49 am UTC (link)
That was totally hilarious!

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[info]zephret
2006-09-08 04:58 am UTC (link)
Bravo! Fantastic! Very funny :D

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[info]caitlin
2006-09-08 03:15 am UTC (link)
When word came through that the king's signet ring had been stolen, the word had been brought to them by the local law enforcement: In this case, the sheriff. He reported the theft immediately to the King upon discovering the incident.

Upon leaving the audience with the King, the Sheriff had not entirely been pleased with what had transpired. That much was clearly evident on his face as he left the room.

The reason for his not looking to be happy was standing beside the throne, arms crossed and glaring at the back of the retreating sheriff. Everyone in the room, if not the immediate vicinity, could practically feel the waves of anger flowing off the young woman in question. Who just happened to be the King's eldest daughter.

The man seated behind the desk sighed, his gaze drifting over to his heir. "You know, Melania, if looks could kill-"

Melania pursed her lips. "He'd have caught fire and been melted into little pieces by now. Yes, I know, Dad. Why the hell the mayor hires such IDIOTS to guard a family heirloom when it is on display in the National Historical Museum is beyond me. The High Council finally works out arrangements for our family's heirlooms to be put on display and THIS has to happen. I'm willing to bet the culprit in question is either a museum employee... or working for the idiot Sheriff..."

"Now, that's not fair."

"*I* could have done a better job of guarding it. Or at least of arranging the security."

"And, as I recall, you begged me to let you try."

"And you refused to allow it."

Xavier Camiri shrugged. "It's not as though the signet can be used for anything. Everything has long since gone to biometrics-"

"But it's the PRINCIPLE of the thing. From what you told me, it has been in our family for so long, no one remembers how we got it!"

"And what does Andrew say?"

"Oh, come on, Dad. Andrew's my spouse... not my keeper. Or are you somehow lapsed into last millenium thinking again?"

"When did I do that before?"

"When you threatened to set up an arranged marriage for me? Just so you could have the family bloodline continued? Oh don't tell me you don't remember!"

Xavier smiled, and it became clear to his eldest daughter that he did indeed remember. Melania rolled her eyes and her anger broke. There was, however, still a determined expression on her face.

"And by your leave, sire, I would request permission to go out and find this brigand and bring him in to justice." She spoke genteely, bowing before her father.

"Don't you have work to take care of? Something for the High Council?"

"I would think recovering something this valueble - to this family if nothing else - would be one of the main duties of the heir."

"And now who's engaging in thinking from over a thousand years ago?"

Father and daughter caught one another's gaze for a moment before both burst out laughing.

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[info]saiane
2006-09-08 04:19 am UTC (link)
He had expected it to be nicer, really. Illia's fingers trailed over the tarnished gold ring. Wax was stuck into the grooves of the actual insignia on the top. Who would have thought that in this day and age, the king would still use his signet ring for that. This was supposed to be the symbol of power, surely there could have been another imprint that he didn't wear for the more practical use.

He strung the the ring on a throng of leather and looped it over his head before tucking it into his shirt. He would have to keep it close; he knew many people were after him now. It had been a status thing; he had proven that he was good. It was now time to prove he was great. They must never find it.

The sheriff trailed him. He hadn't seen the man, but the sheriff was quite good at his job. Perhaps too good.

Illia slipped out of his room at the inn, whistling quietly to himself. It was around time that he got out of here. He'd stayed long enough. The corridor wasn't lit, but he didn't need the light to guide him. His whistling stopped and his feet made not a sound. He was good at his job too. He only hoped good enough.

He hadn't gotten to the stables when a shadow detached itself from the wall and a deep voice came from before him. "You're quite good, you know?"

Illia had froze; he had never heard the voice before but he could make an educated guess to whom it belonged.

"I got to Sandara before they caught me. I could use a man with your... talents." The man stepped out of the shadows into the moonlight. He hadn't looked like Illia would have imagined; people like him didn't want to see the sheriff and went through much to avoid it. He was an older man, grey coming into his hair and goatee. But he wasn't large, did not look like the typical man of force.

Illia raised an eyebrow, "I cannot imagine what you are talking about. What talents might you mean?" It was best in this situation to play it cool. Years on the streets had taught him the art of bluffing. Perhaps there was still a way out of this. One wasn't coming directly to mind, but time was all that was needed.

"Now, now. Don't be coy, Illia. I have my sources; I know exactly who you are. I may know more about you than you do of yourself."

Well, it was good that someone knew what was going on, wasn't it? Illia just wished fruitlessly that it had been him with that advantage. How had the other caught up to him so quickly. And how had he known quite so much.

"Allow me to introduce myself with a name that might be more familiar to you... I'm Raiffe."

And Illia's world crashed around him. Raiffe. He couldn't be? He had once been the king of thieves. But he had died, hadn't he?

Well, perhaps he hadn't? This man was certainly good enough at his job.

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[info]zephret
2006-09-08 05:01 am UTC (link)
I really enjoyed doing this! I haven't read any of the others yet so if there are any similarities, they are purely coincidental, honest :)

---------------------------------

“Here is the ring you asked for. Now, I want nothing more to do with this,” rasped Theo. He looked extremely distraught, at the end of his tether.
The cloaked figure before him took the signet ring with an outstretched hand which quickly disappeared back into the silk garment.
“You have done well, Theodore. Far beyond the expectations of the guild masters, you know.”
“I honestly don’t care anymore. I am not interested in joining your kind after seeing the way you operate. I’ve done what you asked, now let me go and I won't say a word to anyone.”
The figure tutted in disappointment. Mangled skin was all Theo could see beneath the darkness of the raised hood.
“And you think we’d let you go that easily? Unfortunately for you, Theodore, rats like you who rat on rats like us… end up all ratted out.” The figure thrust a glinting dagger outward, striking the young man through the torso.
* * *

It was severely improper for the princess of the court to be in direct conversation with the captain of the guard, no matter how high his rank may be. She tried to look disinterested in what he had to say, but she was extremely concerned that the mark of her father – and her future crown – had been stolen.
“I beg your highness’ mercy that I must ask again; are you sure you were the only other person to have visited your father in the throne room this morning?” asked the curt looking man. A small eyeball floating above the captain’s right shoulder began buzzing softly. The magic enchantment was concocted for him by the court’s magician which would alert the captain by moving around any person whom had the magical residue of the king’s ring upon them.
“This I am certain. Only trusted members of the court have been here today. No one but one of the advisors could have possibly taken off with the ring,” she replied, “and I find your delay in detaining them all to be utter insubordinance.”
“Princess Divinity, your father himself has stated his desire for the advisors to not be taken into custody. I must respect that his word is law, as should you.”
The princess turned away from the captain and muttered to herself. She was tired of unimportant people trumping her with the will of the king. How dare they not recognise that she was next in line, especially with the king’s health being so poor?
Divinity began to walk away from the captain, flowing violet dress in tow, when the doors at the far end of the corridor flung open. Two elite bodyguards, the personal protectors of the royal family, carried around their necks a young male, bleeding profusely from his chest.
The eyeball enchantment immediately flashed brightly and flew over to the injured man, shaking violently as it revolved around him and the bodyguards.
“The culprit has been found!” the captain shouted as he began running down the corridor.
Divinity could barely make out the features of the man, but she shuddered as she realised the severity of the situation. She couldn’t see very far, but what she could recognise was that it was her brother and third in line to the throne, Theodore.
“Oh Theo, what have you done?”

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[info]definewisdom
2006-09-08 12:12 pm UTC (link)
A tavern full of noise and a bartender full of beer, if he had not been the owner of the premises he would no doubt have been fired by now for sampling the merchandise. It was not a good combination. The bartender was supposed to keep his customers from killing each other – it made them more likely to come back.

In the corner, watching the crowd of drunks roaring out the words to one of those drinking songs with the words no one quite knows what they mean but they know it’s rude, sat a young woman. She was half-shaded by the large beams that ran through the ceiling and there was only the barest glint of firelight on her eyeballs as she took in the view.

There was going to be a fight soon, she knew that. One of the signers would forget the words or trip over the foot of the guy next to him and suddenly it would be an all out brawl. The barman, in his present state, would be unable to do anything about it and there would be a few broken bones and probably at least one corpse before the time was out.

The door creaked open, inaudible to anyone further than two feet from it and a young man came in. His step was sure and steady as though where he belonged, but the looks from the few sober patrons told her that he had never been in before today. She recognised him instantly. It did not matter that she had previously only seen him for a few seconds dashing out of the door, she knew. He had what she needed.

The knife in her hand, hidden beneath the worn wooden table, was ready, all she needed was the opening. Her smile was amused as she used her unarmed hand to lift her drink – which tasted more like a horse had thrown up in it than anything else – when she had discovered who she was this was the last thing she had expected to be doing. Princesses, after all were supposed to be polite and lady-like, not hardened killers; but then, the illegitimate daughter of a lecherous tyrant had to keep her wits about her. She had no birthright, no riches, no title, and the thief across from her had seized possession of the one thing she needed to right the sorry mess her life had become.

He was chatting to one of the local whores now, patting her thigh gently. She seemed to think he was attractive, but then if the filth that filled the rest of the tavern was anything to go by, her usual clientele were not the most handsome of men. His grin flashed a broken tooth and he flipped a lock of badly cut hair out of one eye as she tried to help herself to his wallet. But her hand was caught and held and he waved a finger in front of her face in reprimand. Never steal from a thief.

Over by the bar there came a shout and, as expected, the place fell into violent chaos. There was a roar from one side of the room as rivalries which had been forgotten thanks to the gelling influence of alcohol once more began to emerge. She set down her drink and stood up as she saw the prostitute flee to the backroom, presumably renting lodging above the tavern. He was also on his feet, watching the brawling masses with a detached wariness. The kill was not going to be easy.

She sidled up past the door as he stepped over an unconscious blacksmith and ducked to avoid a hurled glass. As she came nearer the noise level increased, yells and pained grunts coming at her from all directions. But as she pulled her arm back, preparing the strike, his fingers shot out and grabbed her wrist, applying pressure which forced her to drop it.

“I don’t think you want to do that…” he whispered as he yanked her close enough for his lips to brush her ear. “Why bother to kill me when we can work together and both get what we want?” She blinked and the pressure on her skin was gone. Looking around she saw him darting out of the side door, giving her a knowing grin over his shoulder.

A table smashed through one of the windows.

“Damn.”

------

I know it's late, but better late than never right? And also - haven't really spellchecked it properly so I apologise for any mistakes.

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[info]tmstanton
2006-09-08 02:15 pm UTC (link)
Gah. LOVE your male MC, just... gah. The moment when he escapes? That's fantastic, truly.

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[info]wwillow
2006-09-08 10:39 pm UTC (link)
Oh dear, the exercise may have spawned an entire army of plot bunnies ... it looks as if my original idea now officially is not the only NaNo-option anymore. I had lots of fun writing, and I actually wrote more than I'm posting now. I just got carried away :)
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“I am looking for someone to help me search for something,” Arianna said. “Are you busy at the moment?”

She looked Bailey directly in the eyes, an unfathomable expression on her face.

“As a matter of fact,” she continued, “I’ve been looking for you.”

“For me? Why?”

Bailey’s voice was croaky, his heart managed to beat faster still and the palms of his hands were sweaty. So she did know.

“As I’ve mentioned I’m looking for something. Something important. I’ve had to run away, I have no guards with me. I may be wearing ordinary clothes, but I don’t have to tell you that people look at me and see my father’s features. It was alright while I traveled through the woods, but now I’ll be hitting the towns, people are bound to recognise me in the hundreds. I need a travel companion. If I went on alone, I might as well prepare the letters demanding ransom for me to return safely straight away, that would save the lucky abductor the trouble. And since you helped me once without going round the village telling everybody how you saved me, I thought you’re the ideal candidate. I’ll pay you, too. If we find what I’m looking for, that is.”

“And what would the thing be that we will be after?”

Bailey couldn’t make sense of it. Arianna went to find him to help her find the ring. So she didn’t know he was the thief, after all. Either that, or she did and had an elaborate plan to lull him into some false sense of security. Either way, he would have to be careful around her. But as long as he was around her, he could watch and influence her.

“I can’t tell you. Not yet. I have to make sure I can trust you first. It is not widely known that the thing in question has gone missing, and I want it to stay that way.”

“So let me get this straight: you don’t trust me even though you have just asked me to come with you and protect you from abduction.”

“Yeah, that summarised it.”

“Doesn’t that strike you as a little odd?”

“No. I trust you to prevent my abduction. Sure, the situation might be a bit awkward in the beginning, but you’ll gain trust points along the way, at least I hope you will, and once I feel that you are indeed loyal to me, I’ll tell you more. You understand that, don’t you? All I know about you so far is that you risked your life to save mine once without asking anything in return when you found out who I was, that you didn’t tell people how you saved the rightful heir to the throne from a nasty situation, and that your lips taste of vanilla. That’s good enough for me for the time being.”

Bailey searched his pockets for the little container filled with the balm his mother always concocted for him when they met. It worked wonders on his skin that often tore for no other reason than being painfully dry. His lips often looked so bruised that people believed him to be in fistfight after fistfight. Without the vanilla balm, his lips would never heal. He needed to see his mother as he didn’t have much balm left, and it was imperative that his lips tasted of vanilla at all times while Arianna was around.

“Well then, you found yourself a travel buddy.”

“Great.”

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