A Tale of Heroes

By Mark Hansen

Story One

Getting It All Together

Part One

Introductions

1

Rain, Rain, Go Away

DeFrantis

The late spring rain fell steady, straight down in the windless night. DeFrantis pulled her cloak hood down, trying to cover more of her face. The stones of the road were slick, and made it difficult to splash through the streets. At least the rains would wash off the mud and dung that had gathered since the last time a storm fell. In the InnerWall section of the city of Twynne Rivers, the buildings were packed in close, and when the rains came, the streets between them flowed freely. Partly because of that, and the time of night, the streets were empty.

Through the dim light of a nearby window, she found an inn with an overhanging second story and dashed through the pour to huddle underneath it. She was good at finding the shadows, and shrinking into them. She was human, but her youth and frail stature made her look almost elvish in the dark.

Her stomach grumbled. Yes, she was hungry, and that only reminded her that the other kids waiting in their hovel in the abandoned chapel beyond the city wall were hungry, too. It was true they'd been out begging, as usual, but the rains had been steady for two days, so there hadn't been many people out for them to bother. That meant that it was time to steal.

She could have done that in the OuterWall, of course. That would have even been easier to do, but, honestly, they were all tired of gruel and scraps. So, they convinced her to take the risk and hop the wall into the city proper. She'd done it many times, but this time, the wet rocks had been a bit more slippery than usual.

She moved along the side of the building toward what looked like the back. As she came to a window, she crouched under it, then rose up to a corner and peeked in. The interior was well lit with candles and lanterns, shining a warmth and friendliness in sharp contrast to the chilly wet of the rain. There were a half dozen patrons of the inn at various tables, eating heartily. The tables were sturdy, but worn. The room was sparsely decorated with a few ragged hangings. Up above were rafters, stained with years of soot from the fireplace, the candles, and smoking pipes of the patrons. She looked deeper in and saw the bar area with the innkeeper and his wife busily cleaning and serving the tables. She saw them smiling at each other, pleased for a busy night.

These people don't have much, either! What am I supposed to do? She turned away and hunched against the wall, drawing in her cloak for warmth. I hate this! She thought, but the others are counting on me.

The rain didn't care. Their hunger didn't care. She looked past some barrels down the dark, empty street. With a deep sigh, she moved.

2

Lights On The River

Granthurg

The early part of the spring had brought average rainfall. It might have even been a little dry this year. So two days of steady rain, while not strange, was still a little unexpected. It had raised the Wynne River up a bit past its normal levels. Not yet high enough to flood, but high enough to make the waters flow more swiftly. The Wynne was fairly deep and wide in the eastern parts, so there wasn't much worry of rapids or difficulty in maneuvering. Granthurg thought about this as he took his turn steering the long barge toward Twynne Rivers. Since they were on a downriver run, their two-man crew didn't even have to use their nature powers to drive the barges, like they typically would when going upstream.

He was easily eight feet tall, with thick, muscular shoulders and a bit of a belly, all well hidden under a heavy shirt. He stood on a raised platform on the stern of the barge, with a tight tarp stretched above his head to drip off the rain. It didn't give him a lot of headroom. The loads they were transporting were stacked and tied down on the barge deck before him, also covered.

Granthurg was one of the many giants that worked the river between his home in the western mountains and the cities of Twynne Rivers and PortsTown. They drove barges, some long, others smaller, up and down, driving trade with the villages along the way. The barge he drove was not the largest he'd ever seen, but he was happy to be on the crew.

At his left was another giant, asleep under a blanket. This was the barge owner and captain, Rinkmorr. He was larger, older, and more experienced that Granthurg, and had the natural powers over water necessary to drive the loaded barge, against the current, back up to their home at the foot of the mountains. Granthurg hadn't learned those skills, yet. He was there to load, unload, and defend. Sometimes, when they went downstream, he was allowed to steer, as he was doing.

Even at night, there wasn't much to steering. He pretty much just had to keep the barge from running aground on the banks. There were two stones mounted on the front of the barge, magically shining light onto the waters before him, and allowing him to see if he got too close. These were the so-called oculi creatori - "the eyes of the Creator", gems that had been purified and enchanted by the Twynne Rivers wizard's guild. Most of the barges had them, even though they were expensive to acquire.

He squinted as he looked out over the dark, past the barge, past the light of the oculi, and into the rain. He thought he saw a glimmer of light up ahead along the river.

That's odd. We're not supposed to get to Twynne Rivers until later tomorrow. He looked closer, and I don't remember a village on the way.

He looked again. He definitely saw them, off to the right. They weren't in the configuration of a barge's oculi, and anything that far off to the side would have to be way too close to the banks, if not actually on the shore.

He looked on the floor behind him and saw his hammer. It was sitting there on the deck, as he had left it, ready for him to grab and swing if it was necessary. It was large, a two-handed weapon, and well-crafted. Its steel was ornately shaped, but hard and sturdy in combat.

He looked forward again. The lights were gone.

That's not good. His eyes scanned the dark ahead of him, hoping he would find the lights. That's not good at all. With one hand still gripping the rudder, he reached for the hammer.

He would be ready.

3

Up To My Tower

Thissraelle

I know it's not the tallest tower in Twynne Rivers, She thought, sliding her feet onto each step on the circular stairway, but it might as well be.

Usually, she would just float herself up to the small study at the top. She had the ability to use the power. It was a lot easier than climbing, and it was good practice. Tonight, however, she wanted to save her powers, and her will. Actually, it wasn't even the tallest tower in the guild hall. It was, however, her tower. She was Thissraelle, and her father was the Guildmaster of the Twynne Rivers Wizards' Guild. When she was very young, he had given her the room at the top as a place to study magic. He made it so it belonged entirely to her. But he also made it so she belonged to it.

She paused on the stairs as she passed a window. For a moment she caught her reflection in the glass, in spite of the rain splattering on the pane. Her face was thin and delicate, with a dainty, if sharp chin, and a small slope for a nose. Her father had often told her that she was beautiful, as all high elves were. Her gaze shifted out the window, over the city. She could see many lights glowing in the CenterTown below, even though the rainwater on the glass distorted her view. She knew well the bright oculus lights of the streets below. She leaned into the window well and swung the pane open, letting the cool air and a bit of the rain waft in onto her face and blow her thin long white hair.

Directly in front of her, and towering above, were the three bell towers of the Cathedral of The Church of Three Lights. A distance beyond that, and off to her left, she could see the palace, then the wall separating the luxurious CenterTowne from the rough and tumble of the RiverFront, and the merchants in the NorthTowne. There were some lights in the streets there as well.

Beyond that lay the InnerWall, where the commoners lived, worked, and fought. Outside the city wall, there was only darkness. In the sun, during the day, she could see the mosaic made by the shanty roofs in the OuterWall. Here, at night, in the rain, there was only black beyond.

She had often wondered what life was like outside of CenterTown. Her father had told her frightening stories of the crime, poverty, and carnage that ruled beyond the wall. At first, she had listened, wide-eyed and terrified, but as she grew older, she began to wonder. If all of these stories were true, how could the city live? How would shops sell, and inns be kept? If all was chaos, how could the city go on?

And what would I find in the forests and mountains beyond Twynne Rivers? She had often wanted to see the world, and she wanted to start with a journey to Emberfire, the city of her people, the high elves. She had lived her entire life here in the center of Twynne Rivers, with the humans, and the only other high elves she knew were her mother and father.

...Until now!

With a secretive smile, she closed the window and continued up the stairs.

++++++

Hello! I hope you'll want to keep reading!

This is the first few scenes of a long, ongoing story, which is currently up to 2 1/2 books! I'd love to hear your thoughts as you read it. I'd love to hear who becomes your favorite character!

DeFrantis, the good-hearted rogue

Thissraelle, the naive young wizard

Granthurg, the strong and smart giantish riverman

There'll be more characters to join in, like Antonerri, Karendle, and Eddiwarth. Bad guys will appear, too, like Tonklyn and the dragon Kirraxal!

Follow me and vote for the story!