Ok, gonna try my Ladroven tale again. I got eight main characters so I will post the opening stories for each. These are still works in progress. Any Advice is most appreciated.
And yes. I ran spell check
So this is first of eight characters.
Aranor stands staring off into the setting sun from his bedroom balcony. He is dressed in white pants and shirt with a golden lion standing on its hind legs running the length of his legs. A black square with a white star in its center on his back. A gentle wind blows his chest long blond hair. His room is six stories high. A drop from this height would kill any man. The look down enough to make most dizzy. Not him. Heights are nothing to the Prince of Candon. One of the great capital cities.
His forearms folded on the stone railing, he watches as guards trade shifts and servants hurry about.
The life of a Prince. To never have to want anything. All he need do is ask and it is his. How his heart sinks for those who serve him. His father once told him it was something he would have to dismiss to be King. "One can not bring a smile to every face. There are levels of civility which must be filled. It is unfortunate but must be so." His father, a wise and caring man. Perhaps what has made this city so grand. The people are happy with a kind King. Some day, he will have to do his part in the chain of civilization. He often ponders if he will be as great as his father. Only time will tell.
He stands upright, a stain of sweat from leaning on the railing during nights past. The sun finishes setting leaving a hue of orange light beyond the eastern view. Movement in the courtyard below halts. The guards patrolling along the wall tops the only he can see. Little movement in the city beyond the castle walls. That he can see anyway.
"Why is it Lord Aranor" A soft woman’s voice begins from behind him "that you stand there and watch the sun set each night?"
He turns to see the young serving girl. A pretty girl with large brown eyes and light brown hair. She is clothed in a blue dress with a white apron.
"Too many people seem to be in too much a hurry to take the time and enjoy something so simple. Imagine that was the last time the sun would ever set, never to come up again. How many times can you recall that you saw such a beautiful sight before it was gone forever?"
"I suppose none Milord."
"I understand there are tasks to be done each day. However, the time it has taken you to inquire me of this you could have stood by my side to watch it with me. Some times the simple things in life are most enjoyable."
"I will remember that my Prince. The king has requested me to inform you supper is ready."
"Thank you." Aranor reaches out for her hand. She carefully extends it. He grasps her hand in his dwarfing hers, raising it to his mouth and gently kisses the back of it. "W why?"
"Again, sometime the most precious things in life, are those we most take for granted. Enjoy the rest of the night Amy."
"Y yes Milord." Her face turns red before she turns and exits the room.
Aranor grabs his white coat folding it over one arm and walks for the door. He stops and turns his head. Something out there beyond the mountains has been calling to him. It never ceases. The calling has been growing stronger lately. He will need to answer it soon.
The private dining room is bigger than the first floor of most homes. Large rugs hang on the walls from foreign lands and local merchants. One at either end showing a bright white star with a golden background. The sign of the royal family. The Candon flag. The table is made from the darkest of redwood and the chairs to match. A most skilled hand had crafted them many generations ago. A red rug with gold trim beneath the table. A red cloth covering the table. A meal fit for three families is laid out, wild boar, vegetables from the royal garden, a roasted turkey, potatoes mashed with fresh butter, cider, squeezed oranges, and a mug of ale for the King, Queen, and Aranor, the oldest of the three royal children. His younger brother of sixteen and sister of fourteen are already at the table. His mother and father, both in the latter end of their middle years with blond hair wearing white robes with golden cuffs sit at opposite ends. His father smiles behind his blond beard nodding for Aranor to take a seat.
He pulls the chair out across from his siblings placing his coat over the back and sits. Everyone places their hands palms together as they bow their heads. King Loudan speaks.
"Our life giving mother, who art in the heavens above and the earth below. Bless us this evening our nightly sup. We thank you for the meal you have provided for us and for the great support of the people who follow our rule. Bless the poor equally as you would the rich. May our family live long, and may the city of Candon live longer. Hear our words, we will bother you no more this night." With the blessing done the meal begins.
When finished servants come in and clean off the table. The two younger siblings excuse themselves to go clean up for bed. Aranor grabs puts his coat on, white with golden lions on the sleeves matching his pants, and walks to the ballroom with his mother and father. The rumble of the crowd and music audible well before they open the doors. The castle is hosting a gala this evening. King Loudan feels it necessary to eat with his family. Though he is kind, nothing should take time away from simple family events. Should others with to engorge themselves in front of everyone they shall but he would enjoy dinner with those close to him. Most of the lords and ladies from the city are here this evening. A few commoners and business owners. As they enter the instrument players are playing while a middle aged woman sings the tale of Irham. The first King of Candon.
Throughout the night Aranor converses with many people, a good number he knows but many he does not. Some he would rather not be around but he hides his emotions masking them with a big smile and a friendly "Good evening." Many times he is asked to dance. Many times he accepts. One woman in particular keeps trying to draw his attention. Angelica Brimore. A beautiful young brunette. Her parents own a two clothing shops and a supply store. Wealthy. His mother keeps hoping he will return the attraction. His mind is not focused on her. Nor anyone else lately. He dances with her and excuses himself nearly half a dozen times throughout the night.
With a couple of hours before the sunrise he chooses to call it a night and retire to his room. He has a few promiscuous offers of company. Instead he retires alone.
The sun wakes him. Groggy from the lack of sleep. He gets dressed in an outfit similar to the one he wore the night before. This one lacking the golden lions. The shirt is similar except the lions are crouching on all fours on the outside of the sleeves. Not sure of what to do with himself he figures after eating breakfast a walk through the gardens will make for a good start to the day. He steps outside his bedroom. Something moves. A man with a staff striking!? He steps into the hall grabbing the staff as it swings where he had been. Pulling himself to the attacker with the staff letting it continue he forces his assailant over his shoulder onto the floor. Staff now in his hands he brings it down hard stopping just before contacting over the center of the chest.
"Master Wei." Aranor says "It has been some time since you have tested me."
"And yet you still pass."
The older man raises a hand. Aranor grabs it pulling the fighting arts teacher to his feet. Master Wei pulls the hood from his face. An older man of the eastern islands of Lam hun. Long grey hair and a long thin grey mustache stretching below his jaw.
"What brings about this test Master?"
"You have long since needed to call me master. Wei will do. I am having some trouble with a student. His rage is nearly beyond my reach. I was hoping maybe a bout with one of my students could show him the error of his ways."
"You can not break him?"
"No. He is...stubborn. Not unlike a young Prince I started training sixteen years ago."
"I remember. Always wanting more. To be stronger. Not wanting to learn but to simply have all the strength in the world."
"Yes. This is how he is. Will you aid me for the morning?"
"Yes. Join me for breakfast and we will find your student."
"I wish I could. I have a class starting shortly. Find me in the training room."
"I will."
Master Wei makes no noise as he walks down the hall. Aranor remembers his training well. It took nearly two years of beating before it sank into Aranor’s head that to become powerful, one must first know what power is. A rough lesson for an eight year old.
Aranor walks down to the second floor to see his father eating. The man seemed to never need sleep.
"Ah. You are up bright and early my son. Did master Wei find you?"
"Yes. I will go and help him with a student this morning."
"Good! Good. Sit, have yourself something to eat."
"Thank you father." The breakfast table is filled with fresh scrambled eggs mixed with a small amount of milk. Toasted bread with a bowl of butter. Sliced fried ham. Squeezed oranges. And a large pitcher of water. The two sit quietly while eating, both having years of etiquette not spilling a morsel.
Master Wei stands before a class of kids and young teens. The students mimicking the poses he takes. A simultaneous YAH! Fills the room. The Students backs to door they do not see a monk walk in to water the plants.
"Alright class. Form a circle."
The students begin forming a circle around Master Wei as he walks to the center of the room. Master Wei stops with his feet on one of three white lines. The other two perpendicular to his, three paces apart. "Pardon me priest, can you hand me two staves from the weapon rack." The monk lowers the water bucket, places his hands together and bows. He turns and grabs two staves, walks into the circle and hands them to Master Wei. "Please, stay and watch." The monk bows his hooded head and stands behind Master Wei.
"Taiken, Atlorin, approach."
"Yes Sen sei." Both kids similar in size, and age. Young teens nearly adults. Both wearing black belts. Both stand at one of the white lines. Master Wei holds out both staves. Both grad the staff held out to them.
"Ready yourselves." Both bow to Master Wei then bow to one another before taking a stance holding one end of the staff above their right shoulder the other end by their left knee. "Begin!" Master Wei steps back to the circle.
Taiken charges lowering his high end which is blocked, his low end comes up beneath Atlorin’s pulling it up and out of his lower hand while he pushes the end against Atlorin’s chest forcing him back. Atlorin having one hand on the staff reaches to grab again while Taiken swings. Atlorin barely blocks when Taiken kicks him in the stomach forcing him to double over. The staff comes down over his back forcing him to the ground. He kicks the fallen kids staff away and raises his above his head to swing. He pulls and is stopped. He turns to see the monk holding the end of his staff.
"Let go!"
"He is done." The monk says sternly.
"I don’t care. Let go!"
"Make me." Taiken lets go with one hand and punches. The monk catches his wrist pulling Taiken forward and down causing the boy to flip onto his back. The monk swings the staff down. Taiken closes his eyes raising his arms in defense. He opens his eyes to see the staff stopped just above his arms.
"You need to learn to control your temper."
"My temper is fine."
"Your aggression makes you weak."
"I’m not weak."
"Get up and prove it to me."
Taiken kid stands up and raises his arms, hands balled into fists. The robed figure stands there with his sleeve cuffs touching over his stomach. The boy steps and swings. The robed figure grabs his wrist and pulls him forward turning Taiken’s back to him. Taiken catches his stance and kicks. The robed figure grabs his ankle and pulls forcing the kid to land on his groin. After a grunt the kid swings his other leg to kick. The robed figure again grabs his ankle this time pushing Taiken on his rear, the class laughs. Taiken kicks himself free and stands. He jumps to kick, the robed figure catches him and throws him to the floor. The kid gets up and runs for the monk again. The monk raises his hand grabbing the kid by the throat stopping him where he stands.
