The boy's breath came quickly, but
evenly, as he dashed through the crowded fish market. Adrenaline
coursed through his veins, but he forced himself to quiet his mind
and stay focused as he fled the sounds of the pursuing guards. A
cart appeared in front of him, he slid under it. An angry fish
monger reached for his arm, but he twisted deftly out of the
merchant's slimy grip. A small dog ran along, nipping at his heels,
but a quick dodge around a row of crates and he lost the mutt. He
paused momentarily, listening to the sounds behind him. The members
of the guard that were chasing him obviously weren't having as easy a
time maneuvering their way through the market, but they were
persistent.
Sheesh, steal a single lockbox
worth of gold from the guardhouse and they get all in a tizzy.
the boy thought to himself as he continued on. The boy's name was
Jassik Shadeleaf. Small, slight, with a mop of mossy-grown green
hair, Jassik looked deceptively small and young for his fifteen
summers(or so, the lady at the orphanage never could seem to remember
how old he was before he escaped that cruel place). His hair, along
with his green-tinged skin and silvery eyes betrayed his elven
heritage. Jassik never knew his parents, so he wasn't sure how pure
his blood was, but he was almost definitely a half breed of some
sort. You never see pure-blood elves outside the Deepwoods.
Jassik and the guards continued their
game of cat-and-mouse through the lower ward of Rockcliff. The city
stood at the edge of the Materan Sea, existing on two distinct levels
The lower ward consisted of the docks, the tanneries, and the fish
markets. It existed in the shadow of a steep and foreboding cliff
face, upon which gulls and seabirds nested in the thousands, swarming
above the fishing vessels as they came into port. Above the
seagulls, still perched castle Rockcliff, home to Duke Thorvald
Griss, or “Thorvald the Tyrant,” as his subjects were wont to
call him(though never to his face, of course). Castle Rockcliff sat
at the head of the ridge that housed the upper ward. If the lower
ward was full of the unmentionable and unwanted members of society,
the upper ward was full of posh high society, a society of the latest
fashions, knights-errant shining in their armor, and skilled artisans
plying their trades. Fashionable houses and apartments stood in
stark contrast to the shacks and hovels that existed in the lower
ward, filled with clean people that wanted nothing to do with the
lower castes quite literally below their feet.
This societal divide was not normally
lost upon Jassik, however he had more pressing matters on his mind at
the moment. He cast a look over his shoulder to see if his pursuers
had a clear sight line of him. A blind spot afforded him enough time
to duck into an open stable, slipping past the boy mucking the
stalls. Given different circumstances, Jassik mused he and the boy
could have gotten along, were it not for his elven heritage, frowned
upon even here in the squalor of the lower ward. The humans barely
tolerated his presence, and he had quickly learned the only thing
anyone would respect about him was his coin.
Still, elf blood has its
advantages, Jassik thought to
himself, as he scampered nimbly up into the rafters and pressed his
small frame into a corner. He heard the guards before he saw them,
heavy booted footfalls upon the rough cobblestone announcing their
presence.
“Oi, you there!
Boy!” Jassik heard one of them call. For a moment he caught his
breath, thinking his hiding spot found. He breathed a sigh of relief
when the guard roughly grabbed the stable hand instead, who squawked
in surprise. “'ave you seen a dirty little street rat come runnin'
through 'ere with a bag o' coin?”
“No
sir, no, no coin here!” the boy stammered. Jassik almost felt
sorry for him, but then he remembered the boy would sell him out
without a moment's thought if he knew he was there. The guard's
partner caught up at that point, the somewhat portly man wheezing
heavily as he leaned over, hands on his knees.
“Jas-
-pant- Jasper,
-wheeze- the boy's
-huff- gone,” the
heavier guard regained his breath and slowly straightened up, “Didn't
you get a look at him? Silver eyes, green skin, that urchin had elf
blood in him for sure. No way we're catching him down here.”
“Hmf,” Jasper
the guard grunted, shoving the poor stable boy into the manure he had
been mucking out, “You're probably right. Don't know how you could
make out his skin under all the shit he was covered in, though,” he
chuckled. Jassik's nose wrinkled at that comment. He certainly had
less shit on him than the stable hand did at the moment. The
unfortunate boy in the muck was looking quite miserable, and glared
impotently at the guards as they made their way off into the crowd.
He got up, wiped himself off as best he could, and went back to work.
So that's it, just a small bit of chapter one. It's still very rough as I'm powering through this thing, I'll likely do some serious editing/proofing before it goes live, but look for it sometime next month =) Otherwise, look for a normal blog post later today!
Fantastic! :D
ReplyDeleteHaha, thanks!
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