Excerpt Number five and last of my '18 NaNo Novel

Dec 8. Coming closer to the day we celebrate God is with us and how God the Creator showed off His love for us in a very demonstrative way.

This is the last excerpt of my ’18 Nano novel. Next week I will post four or five mini stories. I haven’t done that for a while. The week after will be a Christmas tale or two written by me. After that I will continue with the serial Airship Battle.

This is from chapter ten-there are twelve and starts with in the middle of a battle. They have to get to the house-temple of the wargod off to one side of a city under siege. It is suppose to be deserted but maybe not after all.

This has 3,375 words-a tiny bit long-and has been spell checked and a little bit revised. More complete revising and probably a new chapter when I get it ready for publishing.


They swung at each other, with some of the blows non-threatening for they missed. Jar’s managed to impact the man though. The other joined in. Jar had to increase the speed of his blows as he went back and forth to block the incoming blows.
Both men looked for openings and either would find one soon. His arm absorbed the hard blows but soon even he would get warn down. He concentrated on magic, drew in energy, it rushed in and filled his inner self, and just shoot it out in the form of colored lights, an easy sending.
Both men backed up, not to escape the lights but to make sure he couldn’t come in with a cut or stab. But he had figured they would do that. He spun around to one side so that when their sight cleared he was no longer in front of them. By the time they found him he had hit one of them.
He had pulled his dagger out and now charged at the man who first attacked him. He came in from the side and used a full body blow. The man stumbled sideways and knocked the other man’s sword arm. The first man missed his step again when he realized that his chest had been sliced open right above where his cuirass ended. It wasn’t bad for Jar hadn’t had good leverage but it went across his upper chest and hurt.
Both guards recovered very quickly, faster than Jar had hoped, but the one still had to untangle his arm. Jar went in and the second man with his dagger, It went into the side of his arm instead of the side of the man’s chest but it made a hole almost all the way through that arm, damaging the muscle. Jar pulled it out, spun in time to raise his sword to block a blow for he had seen a shadow move and knew what was coming.
Jar managed to recover traded two swings and somehow ended up almost side by side with the guy. He reached out and because he couldn’t get his blade against the man Jar swung back to hit the just under the top of the cuirass with the pommel of his sword. The man grunted and stood there for a moment like he was stunned. Jar reached back of the man grabbed his far shoulder and spun him into the second man who managed to switch hands and came at Jar. Both men fell, Jar kicked one sword away. A bit of sending and the other sword stuck to the ground.
He moved over to where the strong man was having problems. His opponent now had dented armor, which included a streak down the side of his helm. But he was still awake and active. Jar moved slowly behind him, he picked up a helmet that had fallen and put it on. The soldier tried to get by the strong man’s swings which were slowing. Jar tapped him on the shoulder and said, “Its me.”
The man said, “Not now,” through what sounded like gritted teeth.
“I bet you can’t take him in ten heartbeats.”
“What?”
“I bet you cannot beat him in ten heartbeats.”
“Go away.”
“Sorry can’t do that.”
“Why not, I am busy.”
“Not any more.”
At that he sent and flicked his wrist. The man helmet flew of. He spun around faster than Jar thought he could but Jar still managed to punch him in the chin hard. The soldier stepped backwards and fall. Jar knelt fast and punched him again.
Jar said, “I win the beat, you lost.”
He went through the man’s pockets quickly and found a coin purse. A glance inside showed gold and silver.
“I will take this as my winnings.”
The man cursed and struggled to get up. Jar moved and said, “You lost.”
The strongman brought down his club. The soldier grunt and his eyes closed. Jar didn’t know if he was dead or would wake with a very bad headache and he didn’t care to find out.
He stood. The others had won, Rosa had helped John after she killed her third appoint. He had been afraid someone would die. He waved for them to move on. He could hear clashes of fighting some in the far distance echoing through the city and some near by. Those last might be just guards fighting hoodlums but better not to find out.
Again they stayed to the shadows. Two houses further and they all dropped to the street when a large rock crashed down nearby. Jar heard it roll down a street and wreck another house. They continued on.
They came to the correct house. Jar hadn’t noticed it at the time but this was the largest house in the area. He had seen the other buildings he took to be guest or servant houses but now he wondered if they were actually storehouses for weapons and maybe soldiers who wanted to work for the wargod. They had tricked everyone into thinking there were just a few when it reality it had been thousands more from what Juan had said. How they found the ritual to make a key like they did he didn’t know. It sounded like there had been very few who knew you could make a skeleton key for that much less how to.
The gate was closed and looked to be in better shape than most of the other houses. It had been shined and looked new. Taller than the walls by a man’s height and wide enough for three horses to go through at the same time, without touching their sides. Black and brown, thick wood with a dozen iron bands around it. He new they were thicker than his little finger was long. The pastor door seemed part way open. Nice of them to leave it unlocked for them, but just to be on the save side they would go in another way. Not the same way as before though.
After a search he found a small gate along one side. A tiny thing he must have missed in his searchers, so he corrected himself by looking closer at it. There may be or may not be alarms on it. Jar’s stomach let him know with a loud rumble that sounded like a storm at sea that he had reached a point where he needed food.
No time for that but he needed, they all did, energy and it would embarrassing not to say unhealthy if his stomach sounded like that while trying to sneak into the house. With a movement of his head showing resignation he waved everyone back.
The wife and daughter had searched the bodies back there and had found some food, untouched by blood or inner body parts. That included some squashed bread and cheese, and of all things nuts. They all ate fast, and talked while eating. Jar thought they should go up over the gate. That would be the lease likely to have strong wards and alarm spells. The strong man thought they should just bash through the gate fast, there were broken columns and trees to use to batter it down.
Jar said, “Yes we could, but you are still hurt and are tired, we may need your strength later. The elf might be able to open it with his sendings but that would alert anyone in there too. Best make it as easy and less noisy as possible.”
The daughter said, “They may know you are out here already and it won’t matter what we do or how we get in.”
He nodded, “Yes that is true. I have considered that already but even if they know I am out here, the less time they know that I am inside the better.”
They all nodded with that.
A moment later he thought about adding, and it would be better in there than being caught out here by his troops. He could hear fighting and rocks being thrown about inside the city. They would be here very soon.
They hurried to the small gate and while helping each other up-they were show people after all-he finished his beard and cheese together.
Up on the wall top they soon jumped down the other side. All quiet and fast. He thought about leaving the wife and daughter but not with the troops coming. No where would be safe for them.
Rosa surprised everyone including Jar by jumping the wall. She had hurried down the street than galloped down it fast then sailed over the gate, wall and wards. She landed lightly as Jar expected. They made their way to a side door that servants had used. He thought about climbing up the outside wall like last time but they might be expecting that. Besides more than likely the temple would be in the basement.
The place smelled of bad magic, and old air. He heard nothing but their breathing. The guards and dogs had probably joined the soldiers but he didn’t trust that. There would be someone here to guard this place especially after they realized he would be headed this way with that first paper key.
On the way to the side door though he had a thought. If they went inside and headed for the basement and he tied his pack with the letter in it Rosa’s back, they might not know he was going up the outside. He hated to part with it but if he failed they would still have a chance of closing the gate that allowed the wargod out.
Or better yet they would think he still had it and would follow him and think the troupe were worthless. He nodded and he touched Rosa’s horn. He explained the plan. The unicorn could close the gate or as the case might be, reopen it and let the wargod be pulled back in. She would know what to do. From what she said, unicorns stayed out of opening and closing gates but they could since they worked magic.
She agreed for the warlord meant to either control unicorns or kill them. Any of the rest of the team could place the letter on the correct lock. He figured it could be any type of box, or plate or flat surface which might hold the key by magic, long enough to unlock and wake the wargod. Of course that had already been done but the altar, or whatever one called it, should still be handy.
He would help them open the front door but then he would just jump up and climb up the front of the building. They could react like they didn’t know what he was up to. They could go inside and just sit a spell, if nothing happened or was there to stop them, but after a few minutes take off for the basement.
Not much of a plan but it was the least complicated which might help the other side fall for it.
Jar looked around the door and he could smell old blood mostly human but also something else he wasn’t sure about. Maybe they had used blood deaths to enhance the wards on the door, or maybe it was the blood of one of the adherents of the god that he had pretended to be at the beginning of this. The two of them may not have taken no for an answer and so were shut up. Maybe a traitor to them they had made an example of. It didn’t matter that much, even though some.
The wards on the door were not as powerful or as hard a he figured they would be. After a long moment he found one ward and joined it. He found the basic spell under all of the extras, reshaped and twisted his sending energy until it fit even with that basic ingredient. He held out his hand palm out and concentrated. His sending eased itself in and hitched onto the basic one that Jar had found.
The unicorn let him use some of her magic so that he had what he needed. The door’s wards let him move closer and he used a tiny branch-harden by a sending fire. In no time he had the main lock undone. He pulled out as easy as if he had used the right key. Next he eased into the ward that notified someone that the door had opened. This time he stayed in long enough to tie two sections of that ward together so that when the door opened it would seem to be fine to the ward because the two parts would still be touching.
His legs started to complain and he knew that last bit had taken too long. Sweat rolled down his back and even though no one voiced any thoughts he suspect all of them wanted him to get a move on. With the possible except of the daughter.
Jar pulled his essence back toward his body. It stopped at one point. He blinked and pulled. Nothing: he didn’t move back to his body. Sweat formed on his forehead and threatened to get in his eyes while he checked out what held him.
There two sharp points made of magical energy. Not everyone would be able to see them. He concentrated more. Then he sent out two bits of energy. One hook pulled back but the other one stayed. He shook his head, He just wanted to go in a corner and stare at a wall. Memories came up from his childhood, his first failures at sending and more. He missed his mother even though he had barely met her. He remembered discovering his ears were like hers. But she went away anyway.
Even when he blocked those thoughts he wanted to give up and cry. He tried to back off then to slide sideways through it but this wasn’t a physical hook grabbing his clothes or even skin. It had a hold of his psychic. It had to be made to let go.
He moved closer and studied it. It should let go.
Oh, there a tiny part had gone in deeper. That could be why his thoughts and emotions had taken the turn they had. He traced the near invisible, even to him, line and saw where it ended. Once there however he found it easy to unhook it. Maybe because he knew these thoughts mind pictures that made his emotions so heavy. He had fought with them for a lot of his life even when things went well.
The hook fought him but he managed to send it back to the larger hook and to unhook it. Once free he spent to more time there, but was back where he belonged in less time than took to think it. His muscles relaxed, by that he knew they all had tensed, and he breathed a sigh of relief. Even though somewhat easy that was the hardest those heavy emotions had hit in years.
He opened the door just wide enough to allow everyone in. He didn’t want to take any chances. Once each member of the troupe was in he closed it and made sure it would stay closed.
John said, “Hey, you’re not in here.”
“Sorry,” at that he flexed his knees and leapt up to grab hold on the shelf like ornamentation above the door. The only way he could make it was because he had elven like strength.
He pulled his body up all the way, stood on that shelf that was only half of one of his feet wide. He found a copy of that head again-he assumed it was the original head the wargod had. He may still have it but Jar hadn’t seen the base of that dark cloud to be able to tell.
The stone was rough, and warmed by the sun. The troupe had spoken longer but now had given up since they could not shout.
Up higher and he smelled fresh bird poop. With no one living there birds could perch here, or they had a, probably, large bird guard. He better keep an eye out for one.
The third story had more dust and accumulated bird droppings and bat guano. Evidently the staff didn’t get this far with their cleaning. He really should tell the mansion’s owners about their sloven ways. Except they may know about it and not care. This was further up than most people would be able to see or smell after all.
What they left behind, even the dried very old crap, made the stones more slippery then they would normally be. Not to mention he wanted to say yecch every time he reached for the next hand hold. He had his hands in worse messes a time or two, but not recently.
The rough stones up here were hard on his hands but at least it helped to negate the slippery surfaces. His feet were another matter, however. They tended to slip on any surface. Maybe he should take off his boots and socks.
He shook his head, for when he licked his upper lip, he got sweat on his tongue. He continued anyway: there was no other option. He couldn’t let the average citizen down, not even the rich deserved the wargod-well, most of them didn’t.
When he reached the fifth floor, the one he wanted, he reached for the next ledge, grabbed it and tested it to make sure it would not come apart when he pulled on it. The builders could have used more stronger stones instead of porous ones. Too many of course and the house would fall down not too long ago. Out here though no one know what had been used. Someone hired to fix and maintain things here would probably notice if they came up here. The staff didn’t but a repair man might. But they may not care what someone on the economic level thought of their house. Might not care how the staff thought of them either, as long as they did their jobs.
His thoughts continued, and distracted him from exactly how dangerous this was. One slip and he would fall four stories. He might hit the hard marble walkway or the little softer grass on dirt or a taller bush that might break his fall in a good way depending on how strong their branches were. He had a better chance here in the front though than he had when he climbed the side of the house.
He reached for the next level’s decoration pocket and pulled up. Just as his head cleared the level a huge black shape came at him and a heavy guano stink filled his sinuses. Some auto defense?
Jar reared back and one arm jerked.
His fingers on that hand slipped. He reached forward with the other even as the shape came at him. That hand slipped on fresh dung as he realized the shape belonged to a bat, twice as large as his head. It had fangs and probably sharp, pointed teeth.
Even while the fingers of both hands slipped, he thought this could be the reason the staff were lazy out here. He reached out with each hand but both set of fingers slipped again. His head went back in the beginning of a fall.
Wind went by his head, the weight of his body pulled his hands from even the slippery hold they had caught.
He felt his fingers leave the stone, now air lay beneath them. His body dropped at the same time the bat flew over him. Its out wings touched his face and the wind of its passage seem to send him down even faster.
Jar tasted bile but couldn’t spit it out,
Out of instinct, for his mind had gone blank, he reached out again; any port of safety would do. His hands grabbed stone, his body jerked. Almost hard to enough to pull him loose again, but he had fallen only about a foot.
He still heard a crack of stone.


end excerpt

Excerpt three from my '18 NaNoWriMo novel

Happy Beginning of the Christmas season-Proof that God does love you and wants to know you.

This is the third excerpt of my current Nano Novel, from chapter five and is 2781 words long.
He has the letter he was suppose to get and is now back at headquarters of the secret organization he works for. You might recognize the entrance, if you read old comics and maybe watched a newer TV show. Jar learns some disturbing News and figures it is his fault.

I forgot to mention. I named a couple of cities in this one but not all. I may just change all of the names of places. The description of the very long valley most of the cities here are in makes this another world so I will have to change what names I do have.

A word though before we get into the story.
Books do make good presents and gifts. And in most cases and esprecially Indie writers like me, you would be gifting two people at once, even if you don’t know one of them.



Excerpt


Later he turned left and continued on a street that looked like had few people walking on. He went by two magic schools, one had only one student, or it seemed by the active spells he felt. The other had maybe three and neither of them were that powerful. Children of rich parents who wanted something else for their spoiled kids? Someone trying to find a defense against a person or persons chasing them? The second school also was known for sword and dagger training. That would be some place he would want to go.
A block later he went down a side street and stopped before a few houses, as if he wanted to find a certain safe house or someone who could help him. He knew when he entered the field around the headquarters. Even his eyesight seemed to be effected by this field. But he had been here before so knew the feeling and where to go. He found the right building and the right storefront. There were store on either side of this one, who were all authentic businesses. This one catered to the hair of the very rich and royalty. They had been in business for over a hundred years about the same time the clandestine organization started. Back then it wasn’t as secret but it never was well known. On purpose.
He entered and found a maitre-d who knew who he was. The place smelled of cucumbers, a mixture they made to rejuvenate skin and hair. The man took him back to small room in the back. He let him in and said that his attendant would be along. Jar, nodded once said thank you in a posh tone and sat down in a chair. Once the man closed the door Jar spoke one word. A word that translated as care.
The chair started down through a cunningly canceled hole under the chair. It stopped when it reached a lower level. He got up and walked through a door. A hallway presented itself. Very classy with blacks, bare metal and browns. He walked down the hallway and found an office set to one side. He knocked on the closed door and soon was let in. He found a plush room with a desk and three padded chairs. A little bit comfortable but not too much. That was so guests would not feel like staying for long.
The man seated behind the desk wore an all brown suit made for someone to serve the king. Its vest buttoned all the way up and it had a part that could flip over to hide the buttons. The trousers looked neat and tidy and out of silk yet tough enough for a hoodlum’s life. This one had a Spanish flare to it. The one he had on last time Jar met with him looked like one made by a German clothes maker.
He said, “You have the letter we sent you to get?”
Jar nodded once and said, “Yes, I do. It’s been a hard trip back here with it, they found me out somehow, but…”
He reached behind him and took off the pack. He unzipped it and took out five pieces of paper. By feel alone he found the right one and handed it to the man, who took it and carefully examined it.
When finished he said, “Yes, I can see and sense it is what we wanted. But it came too late. They were able to raise their wargod out of his forced sleep.”
 “What? What wargod?”
“The group you were told to steal from is a batch of worshippers of Kurell, a very old god of war, at the time one of the smaller ones. Ten millenniums ago he was forced into a confinement to sleep. The only way to wake him was to release him from that confinement. No one knew where he was imprisoned nor where the key to open it was. The last of his worshippers went into hiding before they were killed. Some were searched out and killed but others hide too well. Over the centuries they became adept at hiding who they worship. In the last twenty-five years they have partially come out. They do not make a big deal about it and some do not mention he is a wargod. Hardly anyone looks twice at them.”
“But the Organization did?”
He nodded, “Yes, those at the top were surprise to learn which god their worship. So we sent a couple of agents to infiltrate them. One almost was killed in the process and the other made it in. Through his services and other means we learned, and it was conformed, that they had found some ancient knowledge that would allow them to do a ritual that could make a key that would work every time.”
Jar thought, so a skeleton key to magical locks.
The man continued, “They wrote a letter to a high priest to explain that. To hide the key and make it easier to transport they turned that letter into the key. Few people would think of something that important made out of paper. We caught a bit of a conversation and our person inside was able to look the site of the ritual over afterwards. Some bad things were done there but he also found drafts to the letter, not yet disposed of. We put two and two together to get the answer of where the key was.”
“And you sent me, without telling me what I was really getting.”
“We didn’t want them to realize that we knew.”
“Looks like they found out.”
He nodded once.
He shook his head, “They have already conquered a fifty league track of the Multi kingdoms. And they will get the next fifty easy enough. An army is being formed out of six of the kingdoms. They are headed straight down the main track through the valley. They probably will mop up the smaller kingdoms and city-states on the sides after they hit the major ones. It is possible that the huge army might stop the wargod. They will have some powerful wizards but so far he had beaten everyone that has tried to stop him. That includes ten who joined together. He is too powerful, angry and cruel to lose. And he is gathering strength with his victories. His forces are growing too. Either his worshippers fooled us and had many more followers than we thought, which included training schools, or he has somehow persuaded people to join him. Maybe because he is winning, maybe to keep themselves and loved ones from being tortured,” he shrugged/
Jar frowned, none of his precautions had done any good. Maybe for a day or two, what he had done mislead them but they found him in less than a week. They must have a way to trace that letter. He hadn’t kept anything else he had stolen that night. Now though they didn’t need him, for they must have made another key.
H had put innocent people at risk for nothing. In the cities and towns he had stayed at, and in the caravans-a couple had been killed there and wounded. Most of all he had placed the troupe in real danger. That was not good.
He and his boss talked some more than he was dismissed. The man took the letter and placed it in a drawer until they could decide what to do.
Jar went to a room he usually used after a mission. Just a small one with a comfortable cot and small desk for writing. It looked like a monk’s home at one time. Maybe this had been a monastery when it was made. The age smell showed it was ages old and sometimes he almost thought he could smell incense in the main room. That would have been the chapel. That would explain some of the feelings he got while here and some of the core protections this place had.
He stripped off his dirty clothes, he could get them cleaned here, and laid down. The plain wool blanket would be enough down here.
No sleep came his way though. Maybe he should get dressed and head for the kitchen for some caffe. By the time he got there, drank the caffe and got back he might be ready for sleep. He had done that before after a hard mission. 
 He shook his head. That would not work this time. His guilt kept him from falling asleep. He had placed people in danger, even new friends, for no good reason. If it had all worked as he planned he might be able to fight or ignore his guilt. Not now though.
What could he do to calm his guilt? Ask the Organization to send them more money? No.
Warn them to head through one of the passes that lead over the next set of even higher mountains? They might be safe for quite a few years there.The man had sounded like he didn’t think that army being formed would win. He probably hadn’t realized his feelings came through his tone. But if he thought the wargod would win there was a very good probability that he would.
For a second he thought of their daughter growing up and doing something to save the day-years late. Maybe she could and this was a warning to get the letter to her. Or a hint that even if he failed someone would take his place eventually.
Failed at what though?
As soon as he asked the question he knew. He knew how to get into the house even though the temple would be in a basement and he knew where the letter or key now lay. His office would be protected but he knew many tricks on how to bypass those protections. And the office knew him already.
Jar frowned. Even if she was able to win the day at sometime in the future he needed to do it now. During those years many people would die and many more be tortured. Heroes would come up and heroes would die. Some like him might become users of the night and shadows who would take people to safety and rob the wargod’s people to give to those in need and such but no. Over all it would be better to stop before it went much further.
That meant he had to steal from his boss, and the Organization. They had made something of him, even with his background. Yes they were using him, but for good things and they rewarded him not only with money and such but with a peace of mind and knowledge that he was doing something good.
He fell asleep sometime after he made that choice. Early in the morning though his bladder woke him up. There was a watercloset down the hall. A very old one that went along with the building but it had been updated. Somehow they had made a water trough under it and the other water closets in this underground complex, so that the water kept moving, shoving out everything that went down the holes in the broad seat.

Once back in his room he decided that the time had come. Late, but not too early in the day yet. There would be people still now here, agents finished their missions, or got into town, at odd times. But they would be few and since he belonged here no one would think it strange that he was up now.
He gathered what items he had taken out of his backpack and headed out. He knew the man usually slept here. He had a nice set of rooms in a side area. As far as Jar could tell there were as many as a dozen such apartments on that side. Possibly a dozen on the other side.
Jar closed his door as silently as possible and walked down the hallway. A few voices came from both directions but none should concern him.
Not much in the way of shadows here, probably planned that way, he thought.
After the odors in the water closet he realized the hallway smelled clear-that is not clean but not much of anything. Again most probably on purpose, he surmised.
He turned the right corridor and walked with purpose to where the office was. There were a lot of offices here, some with lights under the doorway and a couple with doors open, for this was the main entrance. Guests sometimes came this far. Jar nodded to or waved a hello to three people who worked here. One was an elf which always surprised him, for generally they stayed out of the affairs of humans. But what the Organization did might concern them too. And some elves didn’t go along with what is usual behavior for elves.
When he arrived at the correct door no one was about. Jar went down the hallway in both directions but found no one close. He listened but the only voices sounded way down the hallway. He went back to the door, pulled out a certain lock pick he had already pocketed, Sweat slide down his back even the hallway was cool. He sniffed the door and the air but outside of scents that lingered he could detect no cigar, sweat or performa odors that showed anyone waited in the room. No light shone under the door.
A bad taste formed in his mouth, for he was about to break into Juan’s office. True the only thing he wanted was the letter, but still. They may think they could figure out something to use against the wargod, maybe they could and possibly that is what John’s daughter would use if his idea was true, but he knew how to use it now. Before a lot of destruction and deaths. Right now people were being tortured into joining them.
No one had thought of the possibility that they could make a second key, but still if he had done better, grabbed a fast horse or gone to Spain where a secondary headquarters was, the key could have been back here before they made that second one and awoken and set free this awful wargod.
He listened for anyone coming and when he heard nothing, he bent over to look at the lock. The keyhole had been placed in the middle of the black frame set under the knob. Right in the center of that piece of thin metal. He touched it with just the palm of his hand, a very light touch. He could sense the wards and what was on the lock. Not all that powerful yet they still might somehow make the man know someone was messing with the lock. Not if he bypassed them, though.
He concentrated on making the pick feel like a key to the wards. He insetted it while he watched the wards. The pick was much smaller than a key would be but it also had a weight on the end along with a bent point. It weighted the same as a big, black metal key. He sent in his own magic and got a picture of the tumblers. He eased that image onto the pick. It went in okay. He knew the type of lock that had been used for this door and knew where to place the end of the pick. It hit an obstacle he took to be a tumbler. More sweat down his back and his sides from his armpits. Now he caught a scent of ozone, which wasn’t unusual and some oil used to protect the lock from grime and dust.
It clicked, good one down. He moved his pick over and repeated the procedure. He was probably taking too long and a ward would send an alarm but he had to do it.
Again he felt the tumbler move. He twisted his waist as if he turned a real key. The final click sounded. He looked around but even though that was louder than usual no one was near enough to hear it.
The door should be unlocked now. He kept the key in and pushed open the door. Once it had opened enough for him to walk in, he took the key out. And stepped in.
He halted at once.
There next to the desk, the man stood watching Jar.
After a long moment Jar gasped. Juan had been there the whole time even though he hadn’t sensed Juan. Now Jar had been caught breaking into the man’s office.


end excerpt

Excerpt two of my '18 NaNo Novel Paper Key

It is the beginning of chapter three. I am skipping chapters because I am only going to be doing four, possibly five, excerpts. I think I am doing well. The tale is flowing and I know where my hero is going even not all of the specifics. This is my sixth year-maybe seventh all together-and even though I may not do it next year this is fun. And it gets a novel done much faster than usual, even though I will have to revise and lengthen the novel afterwards.
Oh, I didn't use a lot of names here-called one guy the strongman-because even though I named them in the first chapter I forgot what name I used in some cases. One of the revising things I need to do.


Begin excerpt
The troupe arrived at the next town with injuries. The caravan they had chosen had been attacked twice. Once at night after everyone had settled in for bed and sleep. The elf had heard something so the attack had not been the surprise the gang of raiders thought it would be.
Jar had been the first to be up. He grabbed the crossbow and three bolts then headed out in the direction the attack seemed to come from. He wiped the sleep out of his eyes, while the chilly night woke him more. Clouds covered the stars and moon, even though gaps allowed the moon to shine down every so often.
He shook his head at the brazenness of the robbers. This area was kept cleared of all raiders by two neighboring cities who worked together, so it was usually avoided by gangs. Of course something could have happened to one or both of those cities.
Jar saw five riders come his way. Something funny there but he shot one anyway. When the rider fell from his horse, the one next to him reigned in and the other three slowed. Not for long, however. Jar shot a second one, but he didn’t fall. It looked like the bolt had only winged him.
When he breathed in he smelled horse droppings and clean air-a contradiction but it was what his mind said. The wind shifted. He gauged it and shot the third bolt. Another of the riders fell but he cried out when he hit so he may still be alive, Jar thought.
He spun around and ran back toward the troupe’s location for the night when he realized that there had to be other riders. Before he reached the camp he heard horse hoofs just before another five riders over ran the perimeter-which wasn’t that hard really-and rode into the encampment very close to where he ran.
Jar changed directions slightly to go for the closest robber. However, just as he reached for the rider, the robber fell off his horse. No blood and when moon shine shone on his face, he looked asleep.
Magic traces floated up. Hmm, someone else can do magic here. And they do not like to kill.
He switched target but this time the horse tipped over. The rider sprang away before the horse could touch the ground. Jar ran his way and punched the man hard, before he knew anyone was there. He turned on Jar but Jar got in another punch that threw the robber’s head back. The man recovered though and pulled out a knife. Jar shrugged and in a heartbeat had his knife out. The robber looked surprised but also determined.
They circled each other and both feinted. Another circle and again Jar pretended to attack. This time though the robber went with it, swung around, came toward Jar with more speed. Jar had to jump back to avoid the blade. They went back and forth. Jar swung but the robber used his knife as a block. Jar copied him two heartbeats later.
At one point Jar swung out too far and the robber was there with a quick stab to Jar’s middle. He reverse the direction his arm moved in and scored a slice of the top side of the robber’s arm. Blood scent filled Jar’s nose. The robber ignored the blood and probably the pain.
So the robber must use a dreamer to block any pain and to make himself faster. Jar thought about using his magic to rid the robber’s system of the dreamer. But he was a bit slow and the robber nicked his side twice.
Jar back handed the robber hard but he only staggered back three steps, then came at Jar again. Just then the robber looked surprise than fell asleep. Jar stepped back to make sure he was really asleep. The spell must work through the dreamer.
Three other attackers lay on the ground. Two looked dead with blood all over them. That may not mean much though if some of the blood belonged to someone else. A thruak noise sounded: a robber, with a mail vest, went down with an arrow in his chest.
A cross rain of wood began as a few of the raiders started to show bows and crossbows.
Jar turned to send a shield spell toward a family with four children. He turned back when a shadow reached for him. More torches and lanterns were lit and the new light showed a curved sword in the middle of a swing toward his shoulder. Jar willed his body to flip and to move sideways. It did faster than he thought possible but something sharp dug into one shoulder even as he spun out of the way.
Blood flowed down his arm and back. His leather and chain shirt had hindered the blade’s course into his shoulder but it still bit him. He landed on the ground to avoid another swing, but the horse’s hoofs danced his way. The shiny black hoofs with muscles that could move hundreds of pounds of meat faster than a man could run, came his way.
A burst of air escaped his mouth as he wanted to shrink into a ground squirrel hole. The bottom of one hoof cane at his face. He managed to scoot sideways so that it pounded the soil next to his ear. Dirt particulars blasted his ear and side of his face. Dirt got into one eye.
He rolled away and drew his longest knife. In a feat of panic he lifted his torso up enough to knick the horse with the knife. He hadn’t wanted to kill the animal when a knick should cause it to back off.
The knife went in almost too easy but when the cutting edge started to break through its skin the horse whined and reared. The hoofs came back down fast but on top of another area of ground.
It jerked back and reared again with a high pitched whiny. This time its hoofs landed a few feet away from Jar’s face. He took that to mean he had chased it away for now and rolled sideways and up. He got all the way up to his feet, which stretched some of his leg muscles more than it should have. He ran toward their camp.
Half way to it he ran by a raider on horseback. The man had an arrow nocked and ready to let fly. He must have been concentrating on his target for he didn’t seem to notice Jar. A mistake Jar decided to use. He reached up, snaked his arm through the space between the man’s arm and his wrist, grabbed the raider’s waist from the inside and pulled down.
The sudden movement caused the man to let go of the string and the arrow shot outward, but his aim had been knocked off which sent the arrow off to one side. It must have nicked a horse for one reared almost hitting its rider who had to duck and weave.
Jar’s man slipped off of his saddle headed for the ground. He hit hard powered by Jar who punched him in the chest once, then straightened and ran again. It took him four more heartbeats to reach the space around the troupe’s camp.
Four robbers had them under a sort of siege. He sent a throwing star into the back of one of the. He threw it extra hard and fast but his clothes most have partially block the star, for the robber arched his back in pain but then ignored it.
Jar picked up a half fist sized rock and threw it at the head of the same robber. The throw had been off a bit for the rock only crazed the side of the robber’s head. It bounced off the man’s ear.
He turned around this time. Good it got his attention away from the camp.
The robber snarled, spat and said something, Jar just shook his head and ran toward the man. The robbed looked surprised but brought up his sword. Before Jar could reach him however, something hit him and spun him around.
Jar panted hard, wiped sweat off of his forehead and looked down. Arrow stuck out of the robber’s side.
Jar could smell split blood and his own sweat as he looked at the man. He may not by dead so Jar ran up to him, punched him in the back of the head then ran toward the camp. He turned when a noise sounded from the right side. A robber came their way on horseback but before he could reach the camp he collapsed and fell off his horse. Seeing no arrow shaft he thought the man had fallen asleep.
So the wizard was still at it, good.
Jar continued to run toward another robber, he jumped high than came down on the man’s back. Both fell forward and Jar hit him on the head. Then, though, his head connected with the robber’s. Pain shot through his head and he saw stars. Even through the pain and nausea, he managed to shove his hands against the robber’s back to shove himself backwards; and the robber forward.
Jar hoped the man had the same pain and sight problems as he did. He landed on the grass on his face. His nose felt squashed and grass got in his mouth. He spat it back out. His sight cleared and he stood, even though he wobbled. The robber stayed down, Jar studied him, then checked closer. The man was dead. Jar blinked he hadn’t done anything to kill him that fast. Unless his neck had gotten broke.
No time to check on that. He started to run again even though he was almost at the wagon. One robber must have heard his footsteps for he turned and ran toward Jar. But it had been a mistake to witch his attention. The strong man came out from the wagon and swung his long handles club. The tip connected hard with the robber’s head. The man’s helm went flying and he fell.
An arrow flew at he strong man, he swung his club up but it only deflected the arrow. It sliced through his tunic and cut his shoulder a nice long slice. The strong man cried out but he kept on the move.
Soon though the surviving raiders rode off. Two on one horse. Jar shook his head, and wondered if they had gotten anything to remotely make it worth their time and loses. Jar went through the robber’s pockets and such seeing if he could find anything of interest.
Nothing but a few coins, three sliver, two smaller gold and four larger copper which hadn’t seen in ages, which he kept. He found a blue crystal on a chain around the robber’s neck, but it wasn’t worth much. The next robber was the same: a few coins with small gold, silver and those larger copper ones, and a blue crystal. The third one was still alive, Jar could smell more blood on him but the injuries didn’t seem life threatening, if the bleeding wasn’t stopped that is and no infection formed.
Jar found the blue crystal and when he grabbed it, the robber fought him-as much as possible that is. The man, growled and jerked then tried to smash in the side of Jar’s face but he had been able to use less than half the strength needed for that. He thought for a moment that a metallic taste formed in his mouth but it could be only residue from earlier when he bit his lip. He moved Jar’s head but not enough to do any damage. Jar let go of the crystal though. As he had thought already it wasn’t worth much and he now figured it was used as an identifying. It could also be a key to the gang’s hideout. Some have used a certain word to open a side of a mountain but usually it was a key: a piece of something that had a magical force embedded in it. It didn’t usually amount to much but it was attuned to the magic that open a secret door, when they touched the door would open. Sometimes it depended on a simple spell to for the key, at times it took a moderately tough spell and there are times it took a very specific ritual, with lots of hard to do parts. Sometimes the last could take days with exhausting actions and spells. You had to know just the right ones, done in the correct order with absolutely no slip ups.
This one he thought would have been very simple but maybe not. When the robber gasped, jerked upright then fell back dead, Jar pulled off the cord that had kept the key around the robber’s throat. One never knew when something like this could come in handy.
Once he had the crystal in his pocket, then checked over the robber’s body. He found his throwing star still in the man’s clothes and he found three medium gold coins, six sliver and a mixture of the large copper coins with small ones and a medium one, than the other had. Once he finished he hurried on to the camp. John greeted him with a smile.
“How is everyone?”
“Fine, the strong man was injured but he will heal okay. No one else got hurt.” John looked closer though then said, “No one except for you that is. We are save now, take off that guard jerkin and let us treat that shoulder. It most hurt.”
Jar shock his head but then decided that it did hurt a lot. He had blocked out most of the pain but it did need some help plus his padding and leather shirt needed cleaning and fixing.
He let them help him off with it and let loose a short yell only at the last when it pulled away from his arm. He smelled his own blood, not for the first time. And in the torch and lantern light saw it. The color was off, more red than an elf’s would be but not quite as red as human’s. He didn’t know if anyone noticed, except for the full elf that is. He would be able to smell the difference anyway. The elf didn’t say anything though when he saw Jar look at him, he gave a very short shoulder shrug.
Jar wiped his face and his head jerked back. There must have been some of his blood on the back of his hand. Yecch, he hated it when any blood but especially his, got in his mouth.
A sudden sensation of hot and pain at his would caused him to cry out again and to jerk forward away from it. He heard a feminine cry and turned. There stood the daughter with a wet rag in her hand which was raised. She looked surprised and maybe frightened.
He said, “I’m sorry, I should have seen you there.”
Jar turned back around and backed up a bit.
He said, “Go ahead I am ready this time.”
She must have thought about it or saw her mother nod at her, for a few seconds later he felt the heat and pain again when she pressed the rag against it.
He held in the next yip, and gritted his teeth while she cleaned around the wound, being as careful as she could.
Next the mother wrapped it twice securing the bandage with a couple of thin vines she had collected during their journeys. He flexed his left arm. The bandages and wound made it stiff but he could still use it. He thanked them both.
Later, after the bodies were cleared out, he found that no one in the caravan had been killed, three had been wounded like him and the strong man though. The robbers who had been put to sleep woke suddenly and found themselves surrounded by armed men while their weapons had disappeared. They let themselves by taken captive. One tall, skinny man though kept yelling insults to them all. They were placed in cages one member of the caravan carried along with empty barrels and wood boxes. They would be turned over the city guard or high sheriff to this county when they reached the next town.
The rest of the night and the next day went well. The cloths that doubled as bandages were changed two but kept on after the second time because the bleeding had stopped and he seemed to be healing fine. He always healed faster than most humans probably because of his elven father.
Seven days later they were two days outside of the next town: Cobalt, which was known for a quarter that had been colored blue probably during a much earlier wizard war. The buildings, trees, ground all wore the same shade of blue. New bushes, trees and grassed that grew from old ones were all blue. A couple of people have tried to transplant the blue trees but they lost their strange color a few months after the transplant, if they survived at all. Cobalt also had a wide and tall wall, a large church and political buildings even though it was considered a town. A further ride on the mule cart, and they would be there.
However, another robber band had other ideas.



End excerpt.