Chapter TwoA Chapter by Elina The journey begins. Joenek finds himself in the middle of an unexpected duel, and will soon discover that he might have a role to play in a quest.
Chapter Two
Darkness deeper than any natural night had swallowed the world.
A brilliant, orange moon hung in the sky, but shed little light. Terrifying
sounds accosted the ears of the fleeing prey -- piercing shrieks, guttural,
snorting growls, and scraping thuds -- as a creature beyond imagining pursued
the elf. Joenek’s chest seemed to explode in pain; his heart pounding so
hard that he felt it would burst. He could hear the panting of the yet unseen
prowler; its sticky warm breath was felt everywhere the roth went. The
terrified quarry ran in a frantic, maddened state through brush and trees that
he could not see. Limbs clung to his clothes, and roots and rocks tripped him.
The elvish male continued racing through the pitch-black woodland around him,
stumbling and crawling and dashing as fast as his body would carry him. Suddenly, Joenek stood in the middle of an
opening, waist deep in some form of dark and murky liquid. The pond of fluid
was almost perfectly round and reflected the orange glow of the moon above. An
eerie half-light rose from the pool, casting its luminance into the forested
landscape surrounding it. Still, Joenek could see nothing of what was pursuing
him. A terrified scream was caught in his throat and sweat continued streaming
into his eyes. He noticed, then, that he held someone close.
Joenek could not recall who the being was; he knew only that he must protect
the life beside him. A quiet whimpering rose to his ears and the elf knew it
was whoever he held in his arms. He tried to speak calming words of
reassurance. Yet, the moment Joenek opened his mouth, the scream which had been
caught in his throat burst forth. Tears now mingled with the sweat upon his
face and his chest continued to tighten. The elf could hardly breathe and
gasped for air. The creature that had been following them was
now at the edge of the tree line. A massive, lurking shadow paced with a fury, snarling
and grunting. A pair of wicked, glowing eyes stared into Joenek, freezing him
in place. Another shriek of fright threatened to erupt from his mouth. His gut
was twisted in fear. The elf felt as though someone had grabbed his intestines
and wrenched them to one side, giving them a good shake while attempting to
pull them out of his body. Joenek was still staring into the eyes of the
evil being and saw the monster crouch. A low growl emanated from the creature,
and then it leapt into the air. *
*
* Joenek awoke with a start, knocking a little
clay jar off the shelf beside his bed. Thrice, now, this dream had haunted his
sleep. A tingling sensation in the back of his head warned him that this was no
ordinary dream. Joenek had been bestowed the Gift of foresight and occasionally
dreamt of events which had yet to pass. The odd tingling that he felt told him
the “dream” was, in fact, a vision of things to come. But this vision was much different than any
other he had yet experienced. It terrified him to his core. He awoke each time
drenched in sweat and barely able to breathe. The nightmare disturbed the tall elf, and he
lay upon his bed, deep in thought. An anxious sigh left his lips as he thought
of the evil beast which had been about to kill him. What’s going to happen to me? In frustration, he sat up and raked his
fingers through his dark hair. Another sigh left his lungs in a huff and he
moved to the edge of his bed. The distracted young elf let his feet dangle for
a few short minutes before he finally left the hanging cot. He trudged to where
his clothing was stored and pulled out garments suitable for walking about the town. After dressing, Joenek moved back toward his
bed and crouched beside it. He swept his arm beneath it until his hand brushed
against a round object that was swathed in coarse fabric. After tying the
mysterious item to his sword belt, he moved to the entrance of his small home.
As he paused in the arch, the roth gazed at the town of La’el. Joenek lived in what was known as the Mid-way
Selth. La’el had been sectioned into three levels and five rings, much as if it
was a city that had been built on a hill. The Understory Level was that nearest
to the ground. The next level up was the Mid-way, and the Canopy Level was the
final, located nearest the treetops. The five “Rings” which helped make the layout
of the town started with the Central Ring. Just as its name implied, the
Central Ring is at the center of La’el. In the core of this inner-most Ring
lives the first tree of the Vel Siron forest. This first tree is the largest of
all in the forest where La’el was located and had been given the name Seal
Weib, meaning “Mighty Protector.” Rumors said that none but an elf of pure
intent could find the great tree of Vel Siron. It is for this reason the elves
of La’el used Seal Weib to hold their secret gatherings. The next Ring is the Inner. Located within
this Ring are those elves that are members of the aristocracy, as well as many
governing officials which advise those of nobility, and help with making
various decisions. Within the Inner Ring also dwell the highly trained Eb-dae.
These warring knights are trained to perfection, held above even the high
standards of ordinary elves. After the Inner, came the Selth Ring, which is
the largest and most populated. The common elf lives within this ring and
carries out his daily tasks. The smallest of the five Rings of La’el is the
Non-Ring, and was named thus due to the fact that it had almost not been created.
An occasional political battle is still waged over whether the Ring should
become part of the Selth. Yet, the Non-Ring remains its own; the few who hold
control over it gripping tightly to their small claim. It is mostly filled with
an assortment of shops and taverns and things of a similar nature. The final Ring is the Outermost. Many vast
gardens -- filled with a great variety of vegetables, fruits, herbs, and
flowering plants -- fill the final Ring of La’el. A small number of elves live
in the Outermost Ring, to be near their crops. In addition, a great number of “watch-towers,”
manned by common warriors, fill the Outermost Ring, as well. It was to the Non-Ring that Joenek was headed.
Walking along the Understory boughs, he made his way through the crowds. To his
left was a shop; a collection of tree limbs had been knit together in the shape
of a book and hung above the door. On the side opposite was a building which
sold a variety of herbs and tinctures. Joenek walked along the crowded path and moved
past many shops and venders selling their wares. As he drew nearer to his
destination, the crowds began to grow. High Spirits, the only tavern in La’el,
was filled with laughter and hollers of delight. Despite its small size, La’el
had become well-known among the traders of Gael-Narenth. Many travelers stopped
in the forest town on the way to distant locations. Glancing through one of the two large front
windows -- nothing more than decorative openings in the building -- Joenek could
see many rothni huddled around tables, lifting their tankards of drink, and
lounging about. At one table elves were playing Lale Ina, a game played with
cubes of numbers and small rectangles of hardy bark that looked rather similar
to thick sheets of parchment. A small cluster of gems and coins sat in the
center of the table; the prize for the craftiest of the rothni in the group. A few she-elves were relaxing in the tavern,
as well; though they were not rothnash of wealth or nobility or propriety. They
were nearly as bawdy as the ill-mannered rothni that filled the building.
Dressed in frilled dresses of bright colors and excessive lace, the female
elves took part in behaviors such as drinking and swearing and vulgar jesting,
as well as darker acts in the privacy of their chambers. It was for such
reasons that these rothnash were looked down upon by those who conducted
themselves in a “proper manner”. At last Joenek saw what he was looking for. To
the right of the walkway was a hardy building looking quite different than the
other shops which lined the Understory Non. It lacked the grace and detail of
the typical elvish architecture and stood boldly, rather like a warrior
wielding a hefty blade. It was, in fact, the shop of La’el’s only blacksmith
and weapons master. And if the building itself was not proof enough of this
fact, the weaponry and armor displayed in its single window certainly was. Upon entering the building, one was
immediately aware of a darkened hall in the wall directly opposite the
entrance. A rather solemn elf watched the seemingly infinite number of wares.
He sat on a tall stool behind the counter, with hair lying in a slightly
unkempt way. The elf had leaned against the back wall with his arms crossed
over his chest and a rather bored look plastered to his narrow face. Rather
than converse with the ginger-haired elf, Joenek made straight for the hall. Once
within it he moved with great agility down a stairway. Because a tree is no place for a proper
blacksmith’s forgery, the elves had brought two trees together; causing them to
twist about one another, and circle a stairwell. The spiraling stairs ended in
the forgery area that was beneath the earth and had a roof supported by the
many root systems of the surrounding trees. A great force of heat hit Joenek as he made the
last turn in the stairs and walked into the vast, underground building. A
roaring fire was burning upon the far wall and the crackling of its flames made
it difficult to hear. However, the clanging of metal upon metal could clearly
be heard and soon began piercing right through Joenek’s sensitive ears. “Ho,
there!” The cringing elf shouted in greeting. The ear-shattering ringing ceased and the
well-muscled blacksmith turned his gaze upon the visitor. He gave a nod of
recognition and held his hand up to show he had but a little work to do before
his latest piece was finished. Joenek gritted his teeth once more while he
watched the grim-faced elf resume his hammering. Finally, with a well-trained eye, the
sweat-soaked elf looked over his work. With a curt nod of satisfaction, he laid
the metal aside and made his way to Joenek, all the while rubbing his blackened
hands upon a well-used cloth. He tossed the once-white fabric aside and grasped
the hand of his visitant. “Greetings, Joenek. Wha’ brings yeh here? Oi,
did ye bring me thet Gredhe Orb?” The flustered elf pulled the object out of its
cloth and tossed the pearlescent orb to Arun. Joenek watched with curiosity; it
wasn’t the first time he had wondered what the orb was and why he had been sent
to fetch it. With a sly smile the blacksmith felt the smoothness of the object.
He then proceeded to hold it up for inspection; looking for any blemishes and
happily finding none. “Good
morning, Arun.” There was a slight pause as Joenek shifted his weight and sent
a look Arun’s way. “I need to talk to you.” With a look of understanding, the metal-worker
moved to a door in the side wall. He walked through and waited for Joenek to
follow suit. After closing the thick door, and shutting the noise out with it,
Arun moved to a barrel in the far corner. From it he produced two apples, one
of which he tossed to his companion. With a hefty snap, the raven-haired elf
bit into his apple and chewed a bit before questioning. “So, Joen, what is it yer so troubled wit’?” Without further prompting, Joenek proceeded to
tell his friend of the dream he had had. Throughout the entire narration Arun did not
speak, and gave away nothing of what he thought. The only sign that he was,
indeed, listening was the fact that one of his eyebrows continued twitching, as
though he were trying to keep it from rising. Save for that small sign, he
seemed simply fascinated with his quickly diminishing apple. When Joenek had finished, Arun looked up from
his decimated apple core and finally let loose his thoughts on the matter. The
eyebrow now rose without resistance and a crooked, mocking grin took over his
previously serious face. “Oh my, Joen, thet sounds like a terrifyin’
dream.” He let out a boisterous howl and pounded a fist upon the centered
table. “What will ye do, Joen? Hide away forever,
from t’is monstrous beasty?” Arun paused to catch his breath. Then, continuing
to call Joenek by his childhood nickname, the grimy elf pressed forward with
his banter. “My, my, Joen…ye best find somewhere nobody’ll
find yeh. Wouldn’t want our good ranger-in-trainin’ to fall to some dark blob,
eh?” Joenek had had enough of Arun’s jovial
mockery. His friend did not understand; the large roth did not know of Joenek’s
ability -- very few did. Arun saw Joenek’s glare, and paused in his laughter.
He started to weave some grand apology. However, Arun was too late. Joenek hurled his
untouched apple at the burly roth’s head. Arun caught it and, in turn, lifted a
fine sword from its place on a long table at the center of the room. He had
made the blade for Joenek, per the apprenticing ranger’s request, and now saw
fit to launch it at his friend. Joenek barely caught the sheathed weapon in
time, giving a grunt from the weight that the momentum had caused. “Many thanks, my friend.” He shouted as he lifted
the blade in the air and waved it around a bit. He then turned and began to
leave. “Any time, Joen!” Arun shouted up the steps. Joenek continued to chuckle as he pounded up
the stairs. He slowed down as he neared the top. The lighting gradually grew
brighter and he had to blink a few times to adjust to it. As the roth stepped
out into the shop, he turned to the elf behind the counter and gave a curt nod.
Joenek made his way to the door and opened it. Just outside was a formidable looking
group. Standing between two very large elves was a hooded figure with a
hand out-stretched. She slowly pulled her hand back and concealed it within the
folds of her lengthy cloak. Her shapely brow was lifted as she glanced upon
Joenek with a look close to disdain. Ever the gentleman, Joenek stepped aside to
allow them entrance. With an air of self-importance, she brushed past him and
moved straight to the elf managing the shop. The guards, however, remained
outside the building. They stood watching the surrounding area like two hawks
searching for their prey. With a hastened pace, Joenek stepped between them and
left the shop. Well…she sure was in a lovely mood. He thought with sarcasm. She seems to
think she’s terribly important. Joenek strapped his new weapon to his
waist and returned his thoughts to the vision. As Joenek continued with his musings, a rather
peculiar sort of rothnak sauntered toward him. She had a haggard look to her,
as though she had spent too many nights sleeping in the wilderness. Dressed in
a motley collection of fabrics, it looked as though she had scrounged up what
clothing she could and had tossed them on any which way. Her hair was rather
bedraggled and hung heavily, in greasy clumps. A smudge ran across her cheek
and added to her homely appearance. The rothnak’s frame was hidden in all the
rags of fabric, but what parts of her could be seen were gaunt and rather
sickly in appearance. Her green eyes were the only things which showed some
beauty, but even they seemed tainted by a dark and tortured life. As she neared
Joenek, a strange light filled these care-worn eyes. “Oh…”
she began in a low voice. A semi-alluring smile lit her grimy face as she
touched the tip of her stained finger to the cloth of Joenek’s shirt. “You look
like the caring sort. Could you spare some money for a rothnak in need?” Taken off guard, Joenek pulled away from her
and stuttered out a response. “Um…erm…no, no I don’t -- I mean…I can’t.” “Oh, come now, handsome. Surely you have a
little something.” She moved closer to him and draped one arm over his shoulder
and wrapped the other around his waist. An awful odor rose up to meet his nose.
Joenek stiffened in anxiety and attempted not to gag at her stench. What is wrong with this rothnak? Slowly she brought her hand over and stroked
all the way down his neck, leaving her hand gently on his chest. He could feel
her warm breath tickle his neck as she continued. “I’m sure I could repay you…somehow.” Her grin
widened to a smile, and a set of grimy, yellowed teeth showed between her
chapped lips. Joenek pulled away from the strange she-elf
and high-tailed it to the other side of the walkway. Only then did he notice
that the day had grown dim. The young elf could feel an ever-growing sense of
apprehension filling his veins. What a crazy elf. What sort of roth does she
think I am? The repulsed elf
gave a shiver of disgust and tried to set his mind to other things; which was
not as hard as he would have believed. On the opposite side of the “street,” a great
commotion began. The uneasy elf heard the clattering, splintering sound of a
wood stand being smashed and tossed about. Shrieks of terror and bellows of
dismay could also be heard. Turning toward the sounds of destruction and
terror, Joenek caught sight of three gruesome creatures. Never had he seen one
so near, let alone three. They were Elaborathin; hideous creatures very like to
elves. In fact, the Elaborathin race was the outcome of a horrid experiment and
was, indeed, part elf. But quite unlike the elves, these creatures were
grotesque, massive, and simply brutish. These three were covered from head to toe in
armor; great, bulky armor which matched their countenance. As if the creatures
themselves didn’t look evil enough, the protective covering brought even more
foulness to their appearance. It was a dark gray color; not quite black. The
metal was of a very dull sort, lacking any sheen. A cruel-looking symbol,
inlaid in a glossy black, could be seen on the breast plate, as well as on the
helmets, shoulder pieces, vambraces and shin guards. Upon seeing the Elaborathin, Joenek hurtled
himself behind a barrel which was filled with miry water and sat in the alley
next to him. He watched on as the creatures made their way down the lane. It
was the same at each of the stands. The giant creatures would toss aside the
wares which were displayed, and destroy whatever they could. Occasionally, an
elf would try thwarting the bestial mixed-breed, only to be tossed aside,
stabbed or -- in the case of one unfortunate soul -- beheaded. With suddenness, and an eerie uniformity, all
three monstrosities stilled and slowly turned their heads to look the same
direction. Joenek felt his stomach lurch as they looked his way. But they did
not see the nervous elf crouching behind the barrel. Their sight was fixed on
something beyond his hiding location. With great caution Joenek turned to glance
behind him. Casually making their way along the shops were
the three elves whom Joenek had seen at Arun’s. They were the
target; they were
what the Elaborathin were searching for. “Give us the Gredhe Orb, she-elf.” The middle
creature commanded in a cold, rasping voice. The female stopped mid-stride, and turned to
face her opponent. She drew herself up and held her head high as she made her
remark. “You think I am so low as to obey your
commands? You shall perish before you lay one ragged claw upon the Hibh en
Gredhe.” As she spoke, the rothnak laid her hand upon a rounded satchel at her
side. “Fool! We shall smite thee! You think you can
stand against the likes of us? I’ll tear your ‘ead from its place and feed your
insides to my lerecht.” “You could not touch me, wretch; I am
protected by Feridh himself!” “You honestly think that being of legend will protect
you?” Joenek could not restrain the shudder that
coursed through him at the sound of the metallic voice. The female, however,
was behaving with seemingly limitless sangfroid. “Indeed, I do. You know of His power and that He
could destroy you without a second thought. You know that
Feridh is far more than a being of lore.” “Do not speak such a vile name, wench. Or by
all the fires of Khaman I shall eliminate this entire, pathetic village. I will
leave you to look on as we slaughter every inhabitant. I will have that Gredhe Orb.” “Then come claim your prize, if you dare!” The
fierce rothnak shouted, fire alight in her eyes. The Elaborathin needed no more encouragement.
Each one charged toward their prey. Meanwhile, the two guards protecting the
female pulled out their hefty, two-handed blades. Joenek watched in horror as
the monsters drew nearer to their quarry. As they ran, the creatures stooped
over -- nearly running on all fours -- and snarled excitedly, eager to destroy
life in order to satiate their blood-lust. The female elf backed up a pace or two,
allowing her guards to stand side-by-side. They stood in front of her like a
brick wall. Nothing would pass them while they yet breathed. And valiantly did
they fight. In the end, though, it was not enough. The guard on the left had
barely managed to wound one of the Elaborathin before he was gutted. The elf
was left dying upon the boughs which made the “road.” The other roth was able
to down the beast which had accosted him, but not without receiving a severe
gash on his leg which caused him to collapse in agony. As he fell, one of
the two remaining Elaborathin flung him, so that he sailed across the walkway
and was slammed into a building. Left without the defense of her guards, the
female elf watched as the two creatures hovered around her, waiting to attack.
She tossed her hooded cloak aside and pulled her own blade from its scabbard.
Dressed in simple form-fitting breeches and tunic, she readied her stance. The Elaborathin growled and sneered, driveling
in anticipation. They stood taller, stretching to their full height; she was approximately
two-thirds their size. The elf’s face was emotionless and her breathing was
slow and calm. A great roar erupted from the brutish jowls of the leading
Elaborathin. He swiftly back-handed the rothnak and a great crash rose to the
air as she flew through one of the windows of High Spirits. Having sailed through the opening, the
female’s body landed halfway on the far end of one of the many round tables.
With all the momentum behind her still form, the table tipped and sent coins
and Lale Ina pieces into the air. Many of the rothnash screamed in terror and a
clanging could be heard as coin and various items fell upon the floor. The she-elf’s
body ended up near the bar of the tavern. A few rothni moved toward her; she made
no sound and no movement could be seen. Still across the way from a now damaged and
disorderly High Spirits, Joenek stood in attempt to see if the she-elf had
survived the brutal blow. However, as he did so, a light caught his attention.
Glancing down the elf saw, to his shock, the Gredhe Orb. Without thinking, he
reached down and picked it up. Immediately he recognized his mistake. A dark
shadow came across the lane. There, before him, stood the two sinister beings.
Malice and desire were written in their eyes, vengeance exuded from their
enormous, well-muscled frames. Joenek swore under his breath. Just my luck, he thought. He made a mad dash down the avenue, shoving
people out of his way while calling for them to move. He took a throwing dagger
from his boot and leapt into the air, cutting the rope of the banners which had
been hung over the “road”. It fell just in time to cover the faces of the
beasts, and trip them up a bit. However, they plowed right through. Being part
elf, they had the speed and agility of the elvish race, and they were quickly
closing the gap. The fleeing roth tossed an older female aside
and knocked a pile of crates into the lane. He heard the crash shortly
thereafter as the Elaborathin worked their way over the debris. Joenek could
feel his legs burning as he pushed them to their limits. He could not run
forever -- that much he knew -- but he had to find a better location to duel the
maniacal beings. The elf saw a small group of children ahead and noted that
they were playing a game of Pendt, which required the use of small glass balls
called corrins. He ran toward the board which the children used to play the
game upon and hollered, urging them to run away, as he leapt across it. The Elaborathin, so determined in their
pursuit, paid no heed to the Pendt board and ran over the top of it. The first
one to reach it stepped directly on the corrins and almost fell. He began
back-pedaling to keep himself upright, which only caused him to crash down upon
his rear and trip his companion who was directly behind him. Joenek gave a
whoop of triumph, and turned down a side road. Having a moment to spare, he
espied a rope that had been carefully looped and set upon a crate. He snatched
the rope and tied it across a small section of the walkway, at about the same height
as his knees. He then waited to see the Elaborathin, and continued his
break-neck pace. He heard howls of anger as the half-elves tripped over his
trap. “You shall die!” One howled, its voice
sounding like metal scraping against metal. Joenek then made a sharp turn into an alley,
only to find it was a dead end. Again, he cursed his fortunes. The roth
swiveled around to face his opponents. He was doomed; cornered in an alley with
two Elaborathin blocking his escape. There was no way out; he was certainly
dead. The two that loomed over him were crazed.
Foamy saliva was dripping down their chins and was splattered on the breast
plates of their blood-stained armor. They were far more beast than elf, at this
point. They wanted more than the orb; they desired revenge -- they hungered for
flesh and blood. The bestial forms drew closer and Joenek
racked his brain for some sort of escape, finding none. He sighed with
resignation and took on a proper fighting stance after unsheathing his new
blade. One of the Elaborathin flung itself the short distance and attempted to
plow right into the elf. However, Joenek leapt to the side and lodged his
throwing knife into the side of the beast, where the armor was weak. The
Elaborathin howled in pain and rage. It turned on Joenek and lashed out with
its clawed hands. Joenek flung himself beneath the beast, sliding between its
legs, and hopping up behind the creature. He had no plan, now, except to
survive. Suddenly another form appeared. It was the blonde
rothnak; she had jumped down from one of the buildings and was now trapped in
the ally with Joenek. She tossed him a condescending look and began battling
the leading elf-beast. Joenek was left to duel the being with his dagger stuck
in its side. He dodged, swerved, ducked, and maneuvered for
a few minutes, throwing a stab in, here and there. Finally, enraged, the
half-elf stood tall for a killing blow. Before he struck Joenek, however, the
elf flung his sword up into the Elaborathin’s face. The blade plunged into its
open mouth piercing through the back of its skull. With a gurgled gust, the
beast fell to the boughs. Thick, purple-black blood oozed from the wound and
began seeping through the branches to the earth below. Joenek looked up to see the rothnak cleaning
her blade, the other Elaborathin lying dead beside her. She glanced up at him;
this time he knew it was disdain written on her face. He
dislodged his sword from the skull of the deceased monster and began cleaning
it. “Just what did you think you could do?” When Joenek made no reply she gave a snort of
contempt. She sheathed her sword and walked to him. The haughty elf placed her
fisted hands on her hips and looked the dark-haired roth up-and-down. She then
proffered her hand and looked expectantly at Joenek. He glanced up from his sword
for a short moment, looking at the she-elf as though she were insane. Joenek
then resumed his cleaning, as if it were exceedingly important. “Give me the Orb.” She spat out with
impatience. “Why should I?” Joenek questioned in a
tiresome sort of voice. He was growing weary of her pompous behavior. Her eyes
squinted in agitation and she worked her jaw in attempt to control the anger
bubbling up inside her. Finally, she gave in to her irritation. “Who are you to
question me? Give me that Orb.” She stated with forcefulness. She
extended her hand further, assuming he would do so willingly. Joenek made a face as if he were considering
it. “Eh…no, I don’t think I will.” He said in his
most pretentious tone. Before he could process what was happening,
the rothnak dealt him a swift punch to the eye. She then slammed her knee into his
ribs, causing Joenek to double over; as much to prevent her from yanking the
orb from his grasp as from pain. She leaned back and looked at him with condescension
in her eyes.
“Pft! Knave.” © 2020 ElinaAuthor's Note
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StatsThe Warrior From Kerindh
Chapter One
By Elina
Chapter Two
By Elina
Chapter 10
By Elina
Chapter 11
By Elina
Chapter 12
By Elina
Chapter 13
By Elina
Chapter 14
By Elina
Chapter 15
By Elina
Chapter 16
By Elina
Chapter 17
By Elina
Chapter 18
By Elina
Chapter 19
By Elina
Chapter 20
By Elina
Chapter 21
By Elina
Chapter 23
By ElinaAuthor
ElinaAboutA child of the Living God, I incorporate my beliefs into my writing. I am quite old-fashioned for my age, and often feel that I ought to have been born in a different era. I am a major bibliophi.. more..Writing
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