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Snippet ohoy!
The night was warm and quiet, making Saeran's footsteps seem much louder than they actually were against the well-used road. He could see the lights of an inn up ahead, urging him on. He'd been walking all day and he was exhausted. When he pushed open the door of the inn and was assaulted by the smell of food and ale, he gave a soft sigh and pushed back his hood. He wanted a quick supper and then to sleep for hours. Questing was hard on the body, but at least Saeran could follow his own schedule since he wasn't being paid to do this.
The inn's bar was filled with a moderate crowd, but they were quiet enough, and Saeran was easily able to find a table in the corner. A barmaid soon found him and took his order for a pint and a bowl of stew, which arrived faster than Saeran expected. With a nod of thanks to the rosy-cheeked woman, he picked up his spoon and slowly began eating.
Unlike many in the country, Saeran was an independent sorcerer. He ran a shop just beyond the town's gates, and sold his services to those who sought them. He did well for himself, and although he was powerful, he did not desire to tangle with politics or other sorcerers. He had tried that in his youth and vowed never to get involved in that world again.
Pushing aside his empty bowl, Saeran picked up his pint and drank deeply. Setting it down, he licked his lips and let his eyes slide around the room. It was slowly emptying it out, travellers heading up to their rooms and locals returning to their homes. Hopefully there were still rooms available; Saeran didn't exactly relish the idea of sleeping outside.
Finishing his ale, Saeran stood up and walked to the bar, catching the attention of the tender.
"What can I do for you, sir?" he asked, setting down his rag and coming over to Saeran.
"I need a room for the night. Are there any free?"
The older man thought for a minute, before slowly shaking his head. "None free…but there is still an empty bed. You'd be sharing the room, though."
Saeran swallowed a grimace, quickly weighing his options. He hated strangers, didn't trust them…but he was a sorcerer and he really didn't want to sleep outside. He could set up wards.
"Fine," he finally said, adjusting his glasses.
After setting down the right amount of coin, he accepted the key and went up the creaking stairs, casting a last glance at the now mostly empty inn. His room was at the end of the hall. Steeling himself, Saeran strode forward, refusing to be intimidated by whoever waited beyond. And just in case, he had a spell ready should an attack await him.
A spell would prove unnecessary. He pushed open the door, expecting the worst, but all that awaited him was a slight, slender redhead with his shirt off. The stranger froze and spun around at the sound of the door opening, his wide blue eyes narrowing suspiciously as his hand reached for a nearby sword.
"Who are you?" He had a bit of a foreign drawl to his voice, although Saeran couldn't quite place it.
Ignoring the stranger's hostility (and his…rather attractive body), Saeran closed and locked the door behind him, before walking to the unoccupied bed (easy to determine, due to the lack of bags and clothing covering it).
"I'm your roommate for the night, apparently," Saeran finally replied, unfastening his cloak and hanging it up on a nearby hook. He glanced to the side, noticing the other man's stare. "This was the only bed available, so there is no point in complaining."
"Your name?"
Saeran bristled slightly at the commanding tone. Forcing himself to remain composed, he straightened and turned. "In polite society, you should be offering your name before demanding mine."
Fingers resting on the hilt of his sword, the look on the stranger's face changed from suspicious to considering. And if Saeran wasn't mistaken, there was a flash of surprise in those narrowed blue eyes.
"Zander," the other man finally replied, his tone softer, although still guarded.
It seemed that that was all Saeran was going to get. He decided to let it pass for now, not really in the mood for fighting. "Saeran D'croux."
Zander said nothing for a moment, before slowly saying, "That's a sorcerer's name, isn't it?"
Saeran fought to keep from rolling his eyes as he unpacked his nightclothes. "Yes."
Curiosity now coloured Zander's voice, and he stepped closer, which made Saeran's shoulders stiffen. "What's a sorcerer doing out here? Shouldn't you be in a castle or something? Serving rich people?"
Saeran gave him a scathing look, ignoring the realisation that he'd been drawn into a conversation with a complete stranger at an inn in favour of wondering at the man's stupidity.
"I am not an indentured slave," he replied coldly, slipping off his glasses and setting them on the bedside table. "I am free to go where I please." He turned away and undid the ties of his shirt, slipping it off.
"I never said you weren't."
Saeran yanked his shirt on, hands moving to the laces of his pants. "You implied it."
Zander's head ducked, one hand rising in surrender, while the other, strangely, remained on that sword. "I apologise."
Eyes narrowed, Saeran continued watching him, slowly seating himself on the bed and hands idly sweeping across the blankets. Soft.
"Fine," he replied, tone careful, still wary of a strange man with a sword. Fingers tapping against the mattress, he added, "I have no immediate plans to harm you. There's no reason to keep a hold on that sword."
Zander's eyes widened slightly and he ripped his hand away as though burned, colour filling his fair face.
"Sorry," he muttered, although Saeran didn't really understand the reason. He shrugged nonetheless, showing that no harm had been done.
A few minutes of uncomfortable silence dragged on, before Saeran finally decided that it was time for sleep. He'd never been good at conversation with those he didn't know. Turning away, he focussed on setting up wards with barely whispered words and quick flicks of his fingers, deciding that even if Zander seemed mostly harmless, it was better to have protection while asleep. And then, just to be difficult, he flicked his hand and sucked the light from the lamp. He expected for Zander to voice some sort of objection, but he was only met with silence, other than the rustling of sheets.
Burrowing into the blankets, Saeran forced himself to fall asleep.
The night was warm and quiet, making Saeran's footsteps seem much louder than they actually were against the well-used road. He could see the lights of an inn up ahead, urging him on. He'd been walking all day and he was exhausted. When he pushed open the door of the inn and was assaulted by the smell of food and ale, he gave a soft sigh and pushed back his hood. He wanted a quick supper and then to sleep for hours. Questing was hard on the body, but at least Saeran could follow his own schedule since he wasn't being paid to do this.
The inn's bar was filled with a moderate crowd, but they were quiet enough, and Saeran was easily able to find a table in the corner. A barmaid soon found him and took his order for a pint and a bowl of stew, which arrived faster than Saeran expected. With a nod of thanks to the rosy-cheeked woman, he picked up his spoon and slowly began eating.
Unlike many in the country, Saeran was an independent sorcerer. He ran a shop just beyond the town's gates, and sold his services to those who sought them. He did well for himself, and although he was powerful, he did not desire to tangle with politics or other sorcerers. He had tried that in his youth and vowed never to get involved in that world again.
Pushing aside his empty bowl, Saeran picked up his pint and drank deeply. Setting it down, he licked his lips and let his eyes slide around the room. It was slowly emptying it out, travellers heading up to their rooms and locals returning to their homes. Hopefully there were still rooms available; Saeran didn't exactly relish the idea of sleeping outside.
Finishing his ale, Saeran stood up and walked to the bar, catching the attention of the tender.
"What can I do for you, sir?" he asked, setting down his rag and coming over to Saeran.
"I need a room for the night. Are there any free?"
The older man thought for a minute, before slowly shaking his head. "None free…but there is still an empty bed. You'd be sharing the room, though."
Saeran swallowed a grimace, quickly weighing his options. He hated strangers, didn't trust them…but he was a sorcerer and he really didn't want to sleep outside. He could set up wards.
"Fine," he finally said, adjusting his glasses.
After setting down the right amount of coin, he accepted the key and went up the creaking stairs, casting a last glance at the now mostly empty inn. His room was at the end of the hall. Steeling himself, Saeran strode forward, refusing to be intimidated by whoever waited beyond. And just in case, he had a spell ready should an attack await him.
A spell would prove unnecessary. He pushed open the door, expecting the worst, but all that awaited him was a slight, slender redhead with his shirt off. The stranger froze and spun around at the sound of the door opening, his wide blue eyes narrowing suspiciously as his hand reached for a nearby sword.
"Who are you?" He had a bit of a foreign drawl to his voice, although Saeran couldn't quite place it.
Ignoring the stranger's hostility (and his…rather attractive body), Saeran closed and locked the door behind him, before walking to the unoccupied bed (easy to determine, due to the lack of bags and clothing covering it).
"I'm your roommate for the night, apparently," Saeran finally replied, unfastening his cloak and hanging it up on a nearby hook. He glanced to the side, noticing the other man's stare. "This was the only bed available, so there is no point in complaining."
"Your name?"
Saeran bristled slightly at the commanding tone. Forcing himself to remain composed, he straightened and turned. "In polite society, you should be offering your name before demanding mine."
Fingers resting on the hilt of his sword, the look on the stranger's face changed from suspicious to considering. And if Saeran wasn't mistaken, there was a flash of surprise in those narrowed blue eyes.
"Zander," the other man finally replied, his tone softer, although still guarded.
It seemed that that was all Saeran was going to get. He decided to let it pass for now, not really in the mood for fighting. "Saeran D'croux."
Zander said nothing for a moment, before slowly saying, "That's a sorcerer's name, isn't it?"
Saeran fought to keep from rolling his eyes as he unpacked his nightclothes. "Yes."
Curiosity now coloured Zander's voice, and he stepped closer, which made Saeran's shoulders stiffen. "What's a sorcerer doing out here? Shouldn't you be in a castle or something? Serving rich people?"
Saeran gave him a scathing look, ignoring the realisation that he'd been drawn into a conversation with a complete stranger at an inn in favour of wondering at the man's stupidity.
"I am not an indentured slave," he replied coldly, slipping off his glasses and setting them on the bedside table. "I am free to go where I please." He turned away and undid the ties of his shirt, slipping it off.
"I never said you weren't."
Saeran yanked his shirt on, hands moving to the laces of his pants. "You implied it."
Zander's head ducked, one hand rising in surrender, while the other, strangely, remained on that sword. "I apologise."
Eyes narrowed, Saeran continued watching him, slowly seating himself on the bed and hands idly sweeping across the blankets. Soft.
"Fine," he replied, tone careful, still wary of a strange man with a sword. Fingers tapping against the mattress, he added, "I have no immediate plans to harm you. There's no reason to keep a hold on that sword."
Zander's eyes widened slightly and he ripped his hand away as though burned, colour filling his fair face.
"Sorry," he muttered, although Saeran didn't really understand the reason. He shrugged nonetheless, showing that no harm had been done.
A few minutes of uncomfortable silence dragged on, before Saeran finally decided that it was time for sleep. He'd never been good at conversation with those he didn't know. Turning away, he focussed on setting up wards with barely whispered words and quick flicks of his fingers, deciding that even if Zander seemed mostly harmless, it was better to have protection while asleep. And then, just to be difficult, he flicked his hand and sucked the light from the lamp. He expected for Zander to voice some sort of objection, but he was only met with silence, other than the rustling of sheets.
Burrowing into the blankets, Saeran forced himself to fall asleep.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2011-04-10 08:31 am (UTC)From:Good luck with the ebook idea
no subject
Date: 2011-04-11 02:04 am (UTC)From:Also, I really liked the excerpt so I'd be curious to see where that story goes.
no subject
Date: 2011-04-11 02:14 am (UTC)From:I'm currently editing my first NaNoWriMo, which I plan to send to a publisher (Burning Effigy Press).
no subject
Date: 2011-04-11 02:33 am (UTC)From:Also, does Burning Effigy work like a normal publisher and not let you put anything online once it's been published?
no subject
Date: 2011-04-11 02:40 am (UTC)From:https://kdp.amazon.com/self-publishing/signin
This only gets posted there, but you can still send your story to other publishers, etc. while it's being sold there.
Yeah, I think that's probably the rule with BE...
no subject
Date: 2011-04-11 02:52 am (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2011-04-17 05:41 am (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2011-04-11 02:58 am (UTC)From:I like it ^__^ Very promising snippet. You obviously already have your plans in place, but you could submit it to LT3 if you were inclined :3
no subject
Date: 2011-04-17 05:52 am (UTC)From:Well, things with the Kindle publishing thing are far more complicated than I thought (formatting issues to the max >.<). And I've wanted to submit something to LT3 for awhile...so I think I'll alter my plans :3 But...is it alright that I already have a cover made and everything...?
no subject
Date: 2011-04-17 01:10 pm (UTC)From:Formatting for the kindle can be a pain. It's easier if you start with a properly made epub file, but even that can be annoying.
Depends on the cover. We prefer to take care of our own, since our covers have a certain look and feel, but if your cover meets those standards we'll consider it.
no subject
Date: 2011-04-19 11:01 pm (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2011-05-23 11:40 am (UTC)From:So are you still going to submit this to LT3?
no subject
Date: 2011-05-23 06:20 pm (UTC)From: