BT: Chapter 01 Part 01

A boy loses his dagger, and attempts to get it back. The first part of the adventure.

    The moon was bright in the sky; the stars twinkling around it like tiny candles next to the hearth fire.  It wasn’t a particularly cold night for the Northern Reaches, but still the boy shivered.  To call him a boy may not be the most accurate.  By human standards, he was more than a man - he’d seen many seasons come and go.  Currently he was up to his 25th.  His long hair was tucked behind his hood.  He was tall, with a slim build.  Pulling his hood tighter around his face, the boy trained his eyes on the top of the hill.  From where he was perched on the branch of the tree he had an excellent view of the spot.  But, the great vantage point would be of no use if he fell asleep, which he was about to do.  He’d been there since before the sun went down – the moon had moved far since then.
    Shaking his head to wake up, he concentrated on the hill, willing his prey to come into sight.  A straggly group of men who call themselves highway robbers had stolen a piece of property from him.  He’d been dumb enough to drink too much in that filthy human tavern.  Part of him realized that he should be happy that only his dagger was stolen.  The humans in that city weren’t particularly pleasant to his kind.  That was the very reason he went in, the boy mused with a smirk.  It would have been something to brag about if he hadn’t lost the dagger.  Now, he had to get it back.  There was no returning without it.  Not that the dagger was that important or anything - not to anyone but him at least.  The arms master had given him the dagger the first time the boy bested him.  Full of sentimental value and whatnot; well, that, and the fact the blade was rather useful.  The boy didn’t have enough money or anything to trade for a dagger of that quality.
    Hearing some voices from the road, the boy focused on the road.  A group of rowdy men slowly came into view.  The boy had been rather intoxicated the other night, but he remembered enough to recognize the voice of one of the men.  It stood out to him.  The voice had been rather high-pitched.  At first hearing, he thought it was a girl.  Imagine his surprise when he turned around to find the voice coming from a man – a tall, lanky man with an ugly, horse face.  Crouching lower on the branch, the boy prepared to pounce.  The men slowly man their way towards the tree.  They were still rather far away, but the boy could smell the liquor on them.  Taking a deep breath in an attempt to clear away his queasiness, the boy prepared to attack.
    The men made their way under the tree.  Waiting until only the last two of the five were under the tree, the boy jumped down.  Landing quietly behind them, the boy sprang into action.  Swiftly, he knocked the two men in the back out with a couple of well-placed punches.  Making quick work of the other three, the boy learned first hand what his arms master had been talking about when he said that drink was a warrior’s best friend and worst enemy.  Standing amidst the prone bodies, the boy slowly calmed his breath.  The little bit of exercise had been enough to quicken his heart rate.  Bending down, he began to rummage through the men’s clothing.
    “Che,” the boy exclaimed when he finished riffling through the last man’s clothing.  “They better not have sold it or - -“ he stopped half way through as he heard a twig break behind him.
    Spinning around on one foot, the boy turned to face what was behind him.  Coming face to face with the tip of a sword, he slowly raised his eyes.  Looking up, he could see nothing.  The figure was rather tall, that much he could tell.  However, the cloak and hood did a superb job of hiding its wearer’s features.
    The sword slowly traveled from his face down towards the boy’s neck.  “Well, well, what do we have here?  You seem to be far from home, little elf-ling.  Stand,” the tall figure ordered.
    Slowly, the boy stood.  The voice had sounded familiar, but he couldn’t place it, and didn’t want to waste time thinking it over when there was a sword pointed at his neck – the very last thing he wanted was to anger the wielder.
    “Now, tell me what you are doing here, elf-ling?” the figure asked.
    “I fell out of a tree, good sir,” the boy lied.
    “Not likely.  Why don't you try the truth, boy?”
   “But, that is the truth, sir.”
   Quickly pushing the boy into the tree trunk, the cloaked man clenched the sword into the boy’s throat.  “Don’t lie to me, boy.  Now, what are you doing here?” the man asked with strained patience.
    “The truth, sir, is that they robbed me last night, and I was attempting to get back what is mine.”
    “That is a good a reason as I’ve heard for dropping out of trees and attacking drunken men from behind – albeit, not very chivalrous of you, however.  What would your master say, elf-ling?”  The man asked as he pulled his sword away from the boy’s throat.
    “Probably about the same thing as you, good sir,” the boy said with a smirk.  “If you wouldn’t mind, master, could you tell me what you are doing here?”
    “I happened upon a group of men with a dagger I remembered giving to a young child, and decided to retrieve it for him,” the man said as he pulled down his hood.  The arms master was fairly young for the elves – only about 400 years old.  His hair was jet black and worn straight down his back.  He was a head taller than the boy.
    “And, do you have it?”
    “Impatient creature, aren’t you?  But, it doesn’t truly matter.  I’ve decided to keep it since you don’t seem to be able to keep it for very long.  Now, shall we?  I know a rather nice spot to camp at, and I think you need an eye kept on you.”

Author's Note

First draft. But, please feel free to review with or without that in mind.

Reviews

[Billy Rinker]

I liked this chapter very fun to read. I like the section that said "when he said that drink was a warrior's best friend and worst enemy" I thought that was cool. I also like the twist at the end, I'll definetly keep reading this book.
Sincerely,
Billy Rinker