barrett1987
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- Feb 3, 2014
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This is part 1 of a scene that takes around the mid point of the book. The goal here is to drop some world building and reveal a bit about the Steward. I am keen for the following input: Grammar (always haha) and Opinions on The Steward. How does he come across?
I'll post a second part 900 words in another post.
Remember i really want to know about the character of the Steward.
Thank you all for your time and effort. I take what you teach and apply it to my entire work.
=========================================
The Steward pushed the sleeping girl off him and struggled out of bed. His head pounded and he winced, squinting at the bright sunlight shining through the window. Having a drink last night hadn’t been the mistake. Having twelve had been the mistake. Voltan dead, all his plans in ruins, it was no wonder he’d turned to the wine. No one could understand the pressure he was under. The hint of a breeze stroked his face and he walked over to the window, shading his eyes with an upraised hand.
The city spread out below and people scurried through its streets like busy ants, toiling away in the dirt. They thought their lives were hard, struggling to keep their families safe. Try keeping an entire city safe. He looked at the outer walls and his mouth drew down. They wouldn’t be tall enough to stop the Return. They could never be tall enough. He hissed out a curse and yanked the curtains closed, engulfing the room in shade.
The girl stirred and he looked at her. Her missing eyes give her the aura of a mystic. A smile crept across his face. He’d made her beautiful. In fact he’d made all of them beautiful. They no longer hid behind powders and paints, instead they were true, not only to the outside world but to themselves. He loved his girls, each and every one of them.
The Steward stepped across the room and poured himself some water from the bedside jug. He raised the glass to his lips then stopped. What am I going to do now? Without Voltan, sacrificing sun-kissed maidens was pointless. The Return was going to happen. His father had always said, if life gives you lemons then make lemonade. But that was stupid. If life gives you lemons then you shove it back down life’s throat until you’re given something you want. He slammed his glass back down, splashing the bed with its contents.
The girl woke and stared at him, her black sockets locking him in place. Did she hate him for what he had done to her? Surely not. He had taught her love. The beginnings of arousal stirred in his loins but he ignored it. He had no time for that. Not today.
“Enough! Leave me be.”
The girl scurried from the bed, grabbing clothes as she fled. The Steward ignored her, his eyes fixed on a bottle of wine standing on his desk. Just a drop or two to ease the headache couldn’t hurt. He moved closer and stroked the glass, licking his dry lips. One sip to take the sting out of the day. No. He pulled his hand away. I have work to do.
The Steward strode across the room and wrenched open the door. A blast of cold air struck his face and he leaned out, ignoring his two white clad guards and shouted down the dark corridor.
“Pinton, get in here!”
Except for the guards, the corridor was empty. Where was the infernal man? Most days began with his annoying whining about budgets and whatnot.
“Where the hell is he?” he asked the two guards. They looked at each other then shrugged. “Fine,” the Steward said. “I’ll deal with you two first. Inside. Now!”
The Steward stormed back inside and the white clad guards followed. They moved into the room with their hands on their axes, eyes scanning the shadows. They radiated readiness. The Steward laughed.
“The assassins has already been and gone. Remember? I had a nice chat with one of them while you two were downstairs relaxing.”
The two guards lowered their heads and looked at the floor. His vaunted protectors, so scary with their large double headed axes, had been taken down by an old man and a boy who’d not even reach puberty. The Steward resisted the urge to throw something at them.
“You failed me.” One of the guards opened his mouth but the Steward raised a hand. “Don’t you dare think about interrupting me. You failed me. Your job was to keep me from harm and when harm came to my door you two were nowhere to be seen.”
One of the guard’s ears was missing. Pus still dripped from the wound. The Steward brought his hand to his nose and mouth. It’s bad enough they failed me but now I’m expected to look at that disgusting gash all day? I think not.
“Milord, our shame runs deep,” The earless one said, his deep voice echoing around the chamber.
“Yes, I expect it does. But shame doesn’t help me does it? I’ve lost an Adept so you owe me. The urchin had promise and I want him brought back.”
The twins shared a glance then looked up. “Milord, we’re bodyguards not trackers.”
“Bodyguards who are nowhere to be seen when danger comes calling!” the Steward shouted. “You will track down the urchin and bring him back alive. Is that understood?
The guards dropped to their knees and bowed their heads. “Our shame is deep, our failure unforgiveable. On our word, we will return the urchin or die trying.”
“Yes yes, very passionate. I’m tearing up. Now get up and get to it.” The Steward moved to his bed and sat down with a sigh. “Each minute you spend on your knees talking about shame is another minute the boy has to get further away. Now get to it!”
The twins stood, frowns etched on their faces and strode out the room. The Steward shook his head.
“Useless,” he muttered.
Why must I be surrounded only by the incompetent and brain dead? Does no one do their job anymore? The Steward placed his hand on the bed, enjoying the warmth from where the girl had been sleeping. Maybe he did have time for a little fun today. He felt an urge to summon one of his saved girls. Or better yet, his men could rustle up a new girl, one yet to be saved. The Steward smiled. The world might be on the brink of disaster but that didn’t mean he couldn’t enjoy himself a little.
A soft knock at the door interrupted his thoughts.
I'll post a second part 900 words in another post.
Remember i really want to know about the character of the Steward.
Thank you all for your time and effort. I take what you teach and apply it to my entire work.
=========================================
The Steward pushed the sleeping girl off him and struggled out of bed. His head pounded and he winced, squinting at the bright sunlight shining through the window. Having a drink last night hadn’t been the mistake. Having twelve had been the mistake. Voltan dead, all his plans in ruins, it was no wonder he’d turned to the wine. No one could understand the pressure he was under. The hint of a breeze stroked his face and he walked over to the window, shading his eyes with an upraised hand.
The city spread out below and people scurried through its streets like busy ants, toiling away in the dirt. They thought their lives were hard, struggling to keep their families safe. Try keeping an entire city safe. He looked at the outer walls and his mouth drew down. They wouldn’t be tall enough to stop the Return. They could never be tall enough. He hissed out a curse and yanked the curtains closed, engulfing the room in shade.
The girl stirred and he looked at her. Her missing eyes give her the aura of a mystic. A smile crept across his face. He’d made her beautiful. In fact he’d made all of them beautiful. They no longer hid behind powders and paints, instead they were true, not only to the outside world but to themselves. He loved his girls, each and every one of them.
The Steward stepped across the room and poured himself some water from the bedside jug. He raised the glass to his lips then stopped. What am I going to do now? Without Voltan, sacrificing sun-kissed maidens was pointless. The Return was going to happen. His father had always said, if life gives you lemons then make lemonade. But that was stupid. If life gives you lemons then you shove it back down life’s throat until you’re given something you want. He slammed his glass back down, splashing the bed with its contents.
The girl woke and stared at him, her black sockets locking him in place. Did she hate him for what he had done to her? Surely not. He had taught her love. The beginnings of arousal stirred in his loins but he ignored it. He had no time for that. Not today.
“Enough! Leave me be.”
The girl scurried from the bed, grabbing clothes as she fled. The Steward ignored her, his eyes fixed on a bottle of wine standing on his desk. Just a drop or two to ease the headache couldn’t hurt. He moved closer and stroked the glass, licking his dry lips. One sip to take the sting out of the day. No. He pulled his hand away. I have work to do.
The Steward strode across the room and wrenched open the door. A blast of cold air struck his face and he leaned out, ignoring his two white clad guards and shouted down the dark corridor.
“Pinton, get in here!”
Except for the guards, the corridor was empty. Where was the infernal man? Most days began with his annoying whining about budgets and whatnot.
“Where the hell is he?” he asked the two guards. They looked at each other then shrugged. “Fine,” the Steward said. “I’ll deal with you two first. Inside. Now!”
The Steward stormed back inside and the white clad guards followed. They moved into the room with their hands on their axes, eyes scanning the shadows. They radiated readiness. The Steward laughed.
“The assassins has already been and gone. Remember? I had a nice chat with one of them while you two were downstairs relaxing.”
The two guards lowered their heads and looked at the floor. His vaunted protectors, so scary with their large double headed axes, had been taken down by an old man and a boy who’d not even reach puberty. The Steward resisted the urge to throw something at them.
“You failed me.” One of the guards opened his mouth but the Steward raised a hand. “Don’t you dare think about interrupting me. You failed me. Your job was to keep me from harm and when harm came to my door you two were nowhere to be seen.”
One of the guard’s ears was missing. Pus still dripped from the wound. The Steward brought his hand to his nose and mouth. It’s bad enough they failed me but now I’m expected to look at that disgusting gash all day? I think not.
“Milord, our shame runs deep,” The earless one said, his deep voice echoing around the chamber.
“Yes, I expect it does. But shame doesn’t help me does it? I’ve lost an Adept so you owe me. The urchin had promise and I want him brought back.”
The twins shared a glance then looked up. “Milord, we’re bodyguards not trackers.”
“Bodyguards who are nowhere to be seen when danger comes calling!” the Steward shouted. “You will track down the urchin and bring him back alive. Is that understood?
The guards dropped to their knees and bowed their heads. “Our shame is deep, our failure unforgiveable. On our word, we will return the urchin or die trying.”
“Yes yes, very passionate. I’m tearing up. Now get up and get to it.” The Steward moved to his bed and sat down with a sigh. “Each minute you spend on your knees talking about shame is another minute the boy has to get further away. Now get to it!”
The twins stood, frowns etched on their faces and strode out the room. The Steward shook his head.
“Useless,” he muttered.
Why must I be surrounded only by the incompetent and brain dead? Does no one do their job anymore? The Steward placed his hand on the bed, enjoying the warmth from where the girl had been sleeping. Maybe he did have time for a little fun today. He felt an urge to summon one of his saved girls. Or better yet, his men could rustle up a new girl, one yet to be saved. The Steward smiled. The world might be on the brink of disaster but that didn’t mean he couldn’t enjoy himself a little.
A soft knock at the door interrupted his thoughts.