Book One Scenes Flashcards
(17 cards)
Scene 1
- (Describe her as human)
Klesa staggered down the dirt road with one arm thrown over her lame pony Trident. Green light filtered through the leaf laden branches that laced overhead like a light filled shelter. As if any place could be shelter enough to protect Klesa. The two continued down the uneven path in a slow, hobbling gait. The gash on the side of Klesa’s right leg, that stretched from her ankle to her knee, stabbed with pain with ever step. Of. A gash ran along the side of her right leg from her ankle to her knee. Klesa stepped into a dip in the road and twisted her ankle. Pain stabbed through her leg. She staggered forward, bent with pain against the side of her pony. She ground her already clenched teeth and growled. She straightened, pushed back her shoulders, and hobbled on. Despite the sweat that beaded on her face and dripped down her features, stinging cuts the cuts and scrapes on her face, arms and legs, she held her head high, jaw clenched, and chin jutting out. Her glaring eyes scanned the brush along the side of the path for threats. Warm blood soaked the bandage around her leg, and dried blood spattered her clothing. She wore cotton trousers, loose around the legs, but bound tight at the ankles by strips of cloth. Her boots were of soft molded black leather that surrounded her feet and rose halfway up her shins, they were laced from the top of the foot to the top of the boot with leather thongs. (impractical in a fight, but the typical attire for an arena fighter, so necessary to distinguish herself). A rip in her cloak-skirt exposed her long-sleeve white undershirt. The hood of the dark green cloak-skirt hung torn front to back against her back, exposing her face.she would feel defiantly satisfied about this (for defying the expectations of a Viper, defying the roll she was cast into). The sleeves lay loose along her arms, but were bound at the wrists like her trousers, and the shirt part fit loosely to the curves of her chest and hips, then fell looser around her upper thighs. She carried no visible weapons, but strapped to her thighs, under her skirt, two black leather straps containing three sheaths each. Each sheath contained a small silver knife with a hollow rounded handle filled with poison. The knife blades were only three inches long and were crafted with a tiny tube that leaked poison from the handle onto the blade where it dried. (make note of which blades contain which poisons). Around her right wrist, she wore a jade band that marked her as a Viper. Poison class arena fighter (take all this description and disperse throughout actions. Perhaps use from the male character’s perspective when he sees herhe would notice the hood is down, and that she looks a lot angrier, and not quite as cunning as a Viper should). Dirt and sweat matted the short locks of hair that had fallen loose from her inch long ponytail, tied back with a leather strap.
Scene 2
Thoughts from the guy’s prospective: when he first sees her: She limped into town leaning against an ordinary brown pony, the hood of her cloak-skirt torn in half against her back. She walked with her shoulders back and head held high, instead of the hunched slink of the other Vipers he’d seen. The way her hair fell in dirty locks against her jutted out chin, and her glaring gaze scoured her surroundings, made her seem less like a Viper and more like a human, albeit, a dirty one. If not for the fact that she was a Viper, she could almost be pretty (might be a bit much). She carried no visible weapons, but he knew hidden on her person she would carry poisoned daggers.
(everyone goes quiet when she arrives).
Cautiously, people drifted from their houses to gather at a distance. The Viper lifted a sack from her pony’s saddle, untied the top, and tossed it on the ground. A head tumbled out. The people staggered back. The head was from a female and had smooth, cotton white skin, and a long tress of black hair. The face was beautiful, and almost human, if not for the black, pool like eyes, and the black fluid that oozed from them, to dry on her cheeks. A Saureter. Davian shivered. Benna, the innkeeper’s wife, gasped.
“There were five of them on the road as I was passing by,” the Viper said. She spoke quietly, but not in the hushed whisper Davian had heard Vipers speak in in the past. Hostility flickered in her eyes with every blink. Despite himself, Davian leaned forward (he’s standing with one foot on a doorstep or a barrel or stool or something. Typical man pose.)
“Three you will find three dead on the road,” she said.
Beside Davian, Or grunted. (basically the noise Or makes when he’s impressed. Or is a dwarf warrior and weapon smith who Davian is apprenticed too. They were in town delivering a sword. Davian wears a sword sheathed over his shoulders, and Or carries some massive dwarvish weapon)
“Two fled into the forest,” she said, “I suggest you go out and find them before they find you.”
The townsfolk whispered among themselves.
“Well,” Or said, smacking the floorboards with the butt of his hammar rod, “let’s go then.”
Davian turned towards Or, brow furrowed.
“Go where then?” Davian asked.
“Where else?” Or asked, “after the two Saureters that got away. Come on boy.”
Or walked off the porch and started down the road. Davian glanced at the Viper again. A stable boy was leading her pony away to the tavern stables. The Viper would stay in the inn no doubt, and have the finest lodging, food, and medicine the town could provide. To give her such hospitality free of charge for however long she desired to stay threatened to drain the town’s resources. Davian sneered. The Viper wouldn’t care what it cost the town, and no one dared to refuse a Prize Fighter. He strode after Or into the woods, stomach knotting at the thought of finding a Saureter out there. And the Viper had taken on three. (subtle feeling of impressedness)
Scene 3
(have a scene where Klesa has to put her hood back on and go back to the charade, ooooooh. Perhaps right before she goes to meet Orh and Davian. And how she feels about the hood, and about the offer, secretly hoping it’s a good one, and doesn’t involve too much walking).
Scene 4
Or receives a message from his Dwarven brethren mentioning a threat to his homeland, and possible poisoned waters.
“Davian,” Or said, setting down his tankard and placing a hand on Davian’s shoulder, “I’ve received word of trouble in TOrouttra (tor out tra). Poisoned waters (they say), crops destroyed, may be a prelude to war.” “A war?” Davian asked, “with who?” “I don’t know son,” Or said, “Things aren’t like they used to be for my people. Not like they were in the glory days,” Or paused, gazing off into the distance, “those were fine times I tell you. Reguardless,” he said, returning to the present, “I must return to aid my people.” “Then I will go with you.” “No, no my boy,” Or said, “you are a fine young lad, and normally I would welcome you to come to my homeland, but I have a sort of… preminition about all this boy. Could be a war’s brewin’(?). I have a dark sense of all this. Things could get dangerous. (put war comment here?).” “I am not afraid of danger Or. The two of us took on and slayed those two Saureters yesterday. I am getting better with the sword, and with your continued training I can only improve. Please let me go with you. If it comes to fighting, I want to fight by your side.” “I don’t know boy. I don’t believe it would be safe for you there.” “So I’m just supposed to leave you as you walk into danger, is that it?” “Now Davian,” Or said, “that’s not what I meant.” “Or, you are a master blacksmith and an excellent warrior. I value your teaching and training in both arts more that gold, but you are more than just a teacher to me. You are my friend. What kind of friend would I be if I left you now?” Or chuckled. “Very well boy,” Or said, “you make a good point. You can come. But there is one other thing you should be aware of.” A green-hooded figure glided past Orh and slid into a chair across from the two of them. The Viper had her hood up this time, shadowing her face, hiding her eyes from view. She sat perched on her seat, not lounging or hunched over as Davian had seen other Vipers do. She sat with her back too straight and held her shoulders back to far to be decent for a Viper. They deserved to hunch over, as if to shrink up into themselves. They deserved to sit like schemig cowards. Davian glowered at her. She raised her hand and casually waved at the bar tender. The stout man hurried over to the table. “Would you like something to drink?” he asked. “Bring me a mug of your finest ale.” She spoke in a silky whisper, a proper tone for a Viper, unlike the tone she had used the other day. The bar tender rushed off to fill her mug. “You asked to speak with me?” she asked. “Yes.” Orh took a sip from his tankard. “on a matter of business.” “Business?” Davian hissed, glancing at Orh. “Yes.” Orh slammed his tankard down on the table before Davian could object further. “Business.” Orh glared at Davian before turning back to the Viper. “I have an offer of business that might prove advantageous to you,” Orh said. The Viper chuckled. “What could you possibly offer me Dwarf?” the Viper asked, “food? Shelter? Medicine?” The bar keeper arrived with the Viper’s tankard and set it on the table. The viper waved him off and lifted the mug. “You see,” she said, tracing the rim of the mug with her fingertip, “I have everything I need.” Davian’s face flushed, and he squeezed his tankard with both hands. “You have many things, yes,” Orh agreed, “but the Dwarven kingdom has access to many valuables: gold and silver to name a few.” “What use have I for money Halfling?” she sipped her ale with a smirk. Orh’s face flushed at the insult, but only for a second. Davian gritted his teeth to keep himself from saying something stupid (basically?). “It is true,” Orh said calmly, “that there are many things a fighter such as yourself doesn’t need money to get, but there still must be something you could use the money for. Perhaps, to buy more poisons?” The Viper’s (smirk vanished?) lips straightened for a second, then she cocked her head and smirked again. “Vipers buying poison? Who told you that silly Dwarf?” she asked. Orh smiled. “No one told me. I just assumed you must get it somewhere,” he said, “but of course, that is silly of me. You are called Vipers for a reason. Nevertheless, there must be some use you have for gold or silver.” “None at all,” she said, cocking her head even more. “Your time is of course,” Orh continued, “very valuable, and your expertise in poisons would be a great help to us. We could pay (she agrees to help them, basically act as a hired warrior & look into the poison thing)
Scene 5
They travel for a while…..
Scene 6
Davian, Orh, and the Viper crouched on the wooded ridge, peering through the bushes as they looked down on the caravan that approached around the bend below.
A carriage trundled around the bend, bumping over rocks and tree roots, with a bumping and creaking, and pulled by four white horses. The wooden sides of the carriage bore carved swirls gilded with gold. The half door below the drawn purple satin curtains bore a carving of a shield with a unicorn on it, the King’s Insignia. A chain dragged behind the carriage, over roots and rocks, beyond the bend.
“Who on Tallis can that be?” asked Orh.
“And what on Tallis can a person of such obvious importance be doing on this forest path instead of traveling the main roads?” asked Davian.
The Viper beside him had gone tense, and crouched staring at the bend in the road, from which the tinkling clanking still came. Davian stared at the bend.
“What is it Vi-.” He slapped his hand across his mouth to suppress a yell.
A young girl, no more than six years old, stumbled around the bend, head bowed, and chained by the hands, neck, and feet, to the chain that dragged behind the carriage. Another, a boy this time, maybe eight years old, shuffled around the bend, chained behind her. Davian clenched his fist, and ground his teeth, as more children rounded the bend in chains (at some point, Orh needs to leave).
“Viper,” he hissed, “what is this? Why is someone bearing the King’s Insignia taking slaves?”
The Viper turned her head towards him, her eyes covered in shadow, but her lips trembled. Davian growled and looked back at the line of children, seven long total. Of course she wasn’t going to answer him. She was a king’s vassal (?). She would be loyal to him. At the end of the line, a tall man dressed in a nobleman suit carried the end of the chain, behind him, six soldiers marched in armor, with swords strapped to their sides.
“They,” she whispered, voice soft, “are not slaves.”
Davian stared at her. She had answered him.
“They are being taken to the arenas in Carpelotellus, where they will be prepared for the arena.” She said.
Davian nearly laughed.
“Don’t lie to me Viper,” he snarled, pressing towards her so his face was inches away from hers, “Humans don’t fight in the arena, only monsters do. Those children aren’t monsters, they are human.”
A drop of liquid ran down the Viper’s cheek. Strange, it wasn’t hot enough for her to be sweating. She turned away.
“They won’t be when they enter the arena,” the Viper whispered.
A chill swept down his spine.
“You lie,” he said, “there is no way the King would turn children into monsters.”
“Then where do we come from?”
Tension clutched Davian’s gut.
“No.” He shook his head. “It’s not true, it can’t be true.”
The Viper stared at the line of children, now passing directly below them.
Davian’s heart pounded. (I feel like he should be standing for this part? But then wouldn’t that give them away?) He snatched the Viper by the shoulders and turned her to face him. His hands tightened and she gritted her teeth. More liquid trickled down her cheeks.
“You’re lying,” he said, shaking her by the shoulders, “Tell me the truth!”
The Viper’s hood fell back, she stared up at him. A tear slipped from her eye and trailed down her cheek. He gasped and let her go. She fell on her back. She rolled on her side and pushed herself up, then pulled her hood over her head. She turned her back on him, and wiped her hand across her face. Then she made a sound that sounded like a cross between a sniffle and a whimper.
Davian stood, shocked (describe the feeling). It almost sounded like she was crying (again). He shook his head and drew his sword.
“Well,” he growled, “whatever they’re doing, I am going to stop it.”
The Viper sat with her back to him.
“I suppose as the King’s vassal, you can’t help,” he said, “but if you try to get in my way, I will kill you.”
Scene 7
Davian and Orh fight. They kill most of the slavers, but Klesia ends up poisoning one, and Davian tries to get the slaver to talk as Orh picks the locks.
Scene 8
The slaver slumped against the tree trunk, breathing already labored.
“Listen closely,” Davian growled, leaning close to the slavers face, “You don’t have much time. My Viper here has the antidote for the poison she gave you. If you want it, you will answer one question.”
The slaver nodded, wide eyed, and ashen faced.
“Where were you taking those children?”
The slaver swallowed.
“T-to Carpelotellus.” He reached for the antidote (which she whipped up and was holding in a cup) with a trembling hand.
Davian smacked the slaver’s hand down.
“Where in Carpelotellus!?” He shouted.
“The- the Training Grounds,” the slaver said, breath now coming in gasps.
“Training for what!?”
“For th-the Arena. N-now pleas.”
Davian set his jaw and stepped back, head held high, back straight.
“Very well.” He waved for the Viper to give the slaver the antidote.
She slunk forward, very Viper-like, and tipped the cup to the man’s lips. He gulped down the antidote. The Viper backed away.
“I have all the children freed,” Orh said, “we should take them back to their village, it’s not far from here.”
“In one moment Orh.” Davian stared coldly down at the slaver and raised his sword.
“W-wh-wait!” the slaver cried.
Davian plunged the sword into the man’s chest, then wrenched it out. Blood gushed from the wound, and the man slumped forward. Numb, Davian knelt in the grass and wiped his sword, before standing and sliding it into his sheath. The children stared at him, wide eyed.
“Eh-herm,” Orh said, “Now that we’ve taken care of that.” He eyed Davian for a second (Davian knew there would be a talk later.). “Let’s go back and get the pony so that we can take these little ones home.”
One of the children started crying.
“I want to go home,” she said, rubbing her eyes.
A few others started crying as well.
“There there now,” Orh said, scooping up the crying children in his arms, then kneeling down, “The rest of you, hop on my back, it’s not far.” The remaining children scrambled up his back and perched on his shoulders. “and some of you can ride the pony on our way home,” he continued as he walked down the path in the direction of their campsite, “won’t that be nice?”
Davian’s knees started shaking. He planted his sword tip in the ground and sank to one knee, resting his head on the hilt. The Viper drifted past him, looking down on him as she passed, then gliding up the trail after Orh.
“My gosh,” he whispered to the air, “Those children were Being taken to be made into monsters? That would be a fate worse than death. Worse than slavery even. How is that possible? How could our king do this? It can’t be true. Can it?”
Davian sighed, then stood, legs shaking, and started down the path after Orh. Then he halted, his entire abdomen clenched with tension and nausia rose in his throat.
“My gosh.” he gasped. “If what she said was true.”
The words caught in his throat. He couldn’t say it. Dizziness swept over him.
Because if what she said was true, then that Viper, had once been a human.
A fate worse than slavery.
Scene 9
Davian talks to Orh about it. Orh’s like, how many matches do they have to win (by killing their opponent) to become the champion (and be set free, like Klesa)
Davian crouched by the campfire, eyeing the prone form of the Viper. She lay on her side, facing the fire. Her hood covered her eyes, so though she lay still, and her chest rose and fell steadily, Davian knew she could still be awake. Orh squated over one of the sleeping children, stroking her head, then stood and strolled over to Davian. He sat (describe a dwarf sitting???). “Finally asleep,” he said, shaking his head, “poor things. They’ve had a hard time of it.” “Yeah,” Davian said, “Thank goodness they didn’t know where they were being taken.” “You mean the arenas?” Orh asked, “Why? As it was, they thought they were being taken to be slaves somewhere. Others were two scared to wonder where they were going. I don’t know why you think it was a mercy that they didn’t know the truth.” Davian sighed. “Orh,” he said, “I know you’re not from here, so I guess I can’t expect you to understand entirely, but the arena is a place filled with monsters. They look human, they sound human, but they kill like beasts. If those children had realized they were being taken to fight those monsters, they would have been terrified.” “Hmh.” Orh stared into the fire. “But according to you, children don’t fight in the arena.” Davian shuttered. “I just can’t believe it,” he said, “I just can’t. It’s not true, that Viper must have been lying.” “But the man with the caravan said the same thing. It’s an awfully big coincidence that two completely unrelated people would come up with the same story, especially since it is one that was so unbelievable.” “Oh?” Davian asked, “how so?” “Think about it boy,” Orh said, “If the Viper had been lying, wouldn’t she have picked a more believable lie? And the slave driver, he was trying to save his live. Don’t you think if he was lying, he would have picked something easier for you to believe?” Davian stared at the Viper through the flames. “I just can’t believe it Orh. Those children. They’re so different from the monsters in the arena.” “I hear you there boy,” Orh said, “I got to talk to some of them a good bit today, after they’d gotten over their shock, and I found out so much about them. They all come from this little farming village. They go to market every week. They help work the farm and with chores at home. It’s a close little community. Every single one of these children is friends in one way or another with each other.” “Exactly Orh.” Davian rolled a pebble in his palm. “They’re people. People can’t fight in the arena.” “Good thing too,” Orh said. Davain looked at him. “Whether your King really can turn children into monsters or not, can you imagine if one of those children ended up in an arena in Carpelotellus? There’s good odds they’d end up having to fight one of their friends to the death,” Orh said. Davian shuttered. “That,” he whispered, “would be horrible.” “Worse than killing someone you don’t know?” “Absolutely.” “What do you think makes it worse? It’s not like it would take much more skill to kill someone you know?” “Orh?! How could you say that?!” Davian jabbed a finger at his friend, “You know it’s not the physical strain that makes killing hard. It’s what you feel. The fear of dying, and the horror and guilt of killing someone you were friends with is unimaginable.” Orh placed a hand on Davian’s shoulders. Davian hung his head. “I’m sorry Orh,” he said, “I shouldn’t have snapped. I know you just like posing questions to make people think.” They sat in silence for a minute. Logs crackled in the fire, and the sound of the children’s soft breathing filled the night. “How many fights do they have to win?” Orh asked, “before they are crowned champion, and are set free?” Davian cocked his head. “What brought this on Orh?” “Just curious about that one.” Orh nodded at the Viper. Davian snorted. “Why on earth would you want to know more about that Viper?” “Well, you said it yourself, I really don’t understand how things work around here.” “Oh alright.” Davian shrugged. “Twenty three. They have to win twenty three fights to be crowned champion, and sent out of the arena to plague us common-folk.” “You think she ever fought someone she knew?” Orh gazed at the Viper. Davian squinted at his friend, then followed Orh’s gaze. “The Viper?” he asked, “that’s absurd. They don’t know each other.” “Oh,” Orh stroked his beard and looked at the ground, “I just supposed, since they fight in the same arena and all, that they trained in the same facilities.” “Well they do,” Davian said, “There’s one main training facility where they are kept and trained till they are ready to fight. But of course they don’t get to know each other. What’s the point of getting to know somebody you know you’re just going to kill?” “Hmm,” Orh said, “You make a good point boy. I was just thinking of the martial artists in Kenjoyna (some other country). They train in these places called Do-jos.” Orh chuckled. “It’s a fun word to say, you should try it sometime. Anyway, they train, and then they will sometimes have tournaments, where they go and fight other people. Sometimes in a tournament, two people from the same Do-jo will end up fighting each other. Though they realize they might end up fighting each other, they still at least respect each other. Many are even friends. I just thought, perhaps, that training in the same facility might at least make the fighters respect each other. Perhaps it is a bit of a stretch to say those fighters could be friends, but surely they knew each other on some level.” “Well,” Davian said, “I suppose if they trained in the same place, it is possible, they’d at least be familiar with each other.” “Do you think they know each others names?” Orh asked. Davian growled. “Monsters don’t have names.” “Oh,” Orh said, “my mistake.” “Twenty three fights,” Orh mused, stroking his beard and staring up at the stars, “Twenty three fighters she had to kill. How many of them do you think she knew?” “What does that matter?” Davian asked. Orh shrugged. “It doesn’t, I suppose.” Orh stood. “Well my boy, I’m going to retire for the night. I suggest you do the same before long. I hope I don’t need to remind you of just how long we need to walk tomorrow to make it to that village by dusk. We don’t want to be traveling after dark with the children.” (shouldn’t they set a watch?) Davian shivered and nodded. Despite Orh’s advice, Davian sat up a long time later, staring into the flames, and at the Viper beyond.
Scene 10
(after Klesa rips her stitches saving Davian’s life and passes out from the pain. They take her to a village where they patch her up).
Scene 11
She lay on the cot, jaw clenched. Sweat beaded on her forehead.
“Thank you,” he grumbled avoiding her gaze.
He turned towards the door to leave.
“For what?” she spat, “saving your worthless life.”
Davian rounded on her, fists clenched. He glared into her eyes, only to find her glaring back. A chill (of rage?) swept through his body. His heart beat in his ears. He drew his sword. Her eyes widened for a moment, then narrowed again. She pushed herself up to sit. Davian stepped forward, sword tip touching her chest, body shaking. She pressed her back against the wall.
“You’re a monster,” he whispered, “a monster. And I can kill you right now.”
She hung her head. Davian smiled. He leaned forward so his face was close to hers.
“Beg,” he said, “beg me to spare you. It won’t do any good. See if I spare you.”
She slowly raised her head. Davian stepped back pulled back. She stuck out her chin, and puffed out her chest, shirt fabric pricking on the blade tip. She held his gaze and he stepped back.
“Go ahead,” she spat, “kill me.”
Straightened and lowered his sword. He stared at her.
“Well?” she shouted, “I said go ahead! Kill me!”
Davian stood there, sword tip resting in her lap.
“Kill me you coward!” she screamed, tears filling her eyes and spilling down her cheeks.
She looked away. She pressed her injured forearm to her side with her left arm. Her chest shook. Davian felt numb. The Viper was crying.
“Go ahead.” she said, her voice thick. She wiped a hand roughly across her face. “This is what you wanted, isn’t it. To see me weak,” she whimpered, “You didn’t really think I was going to ask for mercy did you?”
Davian backed towards the door.
“I know better,” she gasped and coughed, “than to ask for something you would never give.” Her body shuddered and she squeezed her eyes shut.
Davian turned and ran. His heart racing. She had tricked him! Deceived him! That was her plan. It was brilliant! He had been determined to kill her, but he had spared her life. She was a clever Viper indeed. He froze, his body went cold. She would be coming after him as soon as she got better. Determined to kill him. After all, he had threatened her life. (do all this with dialogue?) She could not allow him to live. She had been so convincing too. He almost felt sorry for her. But that was a lie. After all, Vipers didn’t have feelings. Did they? (probably just keep the bold parts as narration, try to put the rest in a dialogue)
Kill a defenseless Viper like the coward you are! You’ll be a hero! Story’s of your bravery will be passed from generation to generation!
and glared up at him. Davian
Davian decided it wasn’t fitting for a Viper to be angry. Vipers shouldn’t have feelings. (or maybe he’s surprised that she has feelings. After all, she’s a Viper).
Saturers
Scene 12
(probably after a few days of rest)
Klesa slipped into the room, hood up, keeping her movements measured and graceful, like a proper Viper, despite the throb in her leg. Davian froze, poised to run. His sword lay strapped against his back. He would have no time to draw it. He would know what she intinded. Klesa fingered her knives under her skirt, picked Moycum, a swift killer, and slipped it halfway from it’s sheath. She paused. His sword lay strapped against his back. He stood poised to run. Helpless. She let go of her knife, it slid back down in the sheath. She glided out of the room and towards the stables.
Klesa slid the muffler from Trident’s saddle bag, hung near the door. She placed the smooth stone on the ground and limped over to the bucket where the brushes were kept. “I think I did something stupid,” Klesa said, in a normal tone, and grabbed a hard hard brush. “Oh?” Trident asked, free to speak now that the muffler was out and their conversation couldn’t be heard, “and what is it you believe you did dear?” (Trident is a female pony) “I let him live.” Klesa started rubbing circles along the horse’s neck. “Davian I mean.” “Hmm. I wasn’t expecting you to do that.” Trident shook her neck (mane?) and snorted. “You thought I’d kill him. Like a real Viper.” “What a quote ‘real Viper’ would do is no matter. You are more than a Viper. You are special.” “Which is another way of saying I’m abnormal, strange, and don’t do what is expected of me as a Viper.” “Is that such a bad thing?” Trident asked, “not folding to the standard? Not holding to an image that others have of you?” “This is about more than an image Trident. It’s about fear. If they fear me, they help me, or at the very least don’t try to kill me.” Klesa closed her eyes, against the sting of tears. “You should have seen him three nights ago. He hated me. He wanted to kill me. He almost did.” “But he spared you.” “He won’t make the same mistake twice.” Her gut clenched at the thought. Despite herself, a tear slipped from her eye and flowed down her cheek. “What makes you so sure it was a mistake?” “Because now he knows I have to kill him.” Klesa said. “No,” Trident turned her neck to face Klesa, “there’s more too it than that.” “Because.” Klesa whimpered, hands hanging by her side(?). “Because I’m a Viper.” “But you are more than just a Viper,” Trident nuzzled Klesa’s side, “perhaps he’s just started to see that.” Klesa gave a weak smile. “Ah Trident,” she said, stroking Trident’s face, “ever the optimist. I suppose, all things are anything is possible.” (Klesa doesn’t believe that)
Scene 13
Davian stood, heart pounding, watching the door the Viper had just left through. Orh strode in from the kitchen, whistling.
“Better get yourself something to eat boy,” Orh said.
Orh paused to stare at the door Davain was staring at.
“What’s the matter boy?” Orh said, “It’s just a door.”
“It’s what went through the door,” Davian hissed.
“Ohh,” Orh said, “that would make much more sense than you being scared pale by a door. It was that Viper girl, yes, wasn’t it?”
“That thing is a Viper, Orh, not a girl,” Davian said.
“Well she certainly isn’t a Viper boy, that’s for sure,” Orh said, “I thought surely you could pick up on that.”
“She tried to kill me!” Davian shouted.
Orh looked him up and down.
“Well I highly doubt it was that bad boy,” Orh said, “you still seem to be very much alive.”
“I am serious Orh! She went to draw her knives.”
“Her knives?” Orh asked. “The ones held in her thigh straps?”
“Yes Orh,” Davian said, “you know, the poisoned ones that they can throw at you. Kill you in seconds kind of knives.”
Orh snickered.
“Davian,” Orh said, “I thought you knew better than too look at women that way.”
Davian flushed.
“Orh!” he shouted.
Orh guffawed.
“Oh boy,” Orh said, “I’m only teasing you.”
“I’m glad to see you find this amusing.” Davian crossed his arms. “She is dangerous. I could end up dead! Easily!”
“Ah my boy,” Orh said, wiping a tear from his eye, “I don’t think your in as much danger as you think you are. If you were in any real danger, I would know. Get a sort of preminition.”
Davian sighed, his shoulders slumped.
“She drew her knives Orh,” he said quietly.
“And then what did she do?” Orh asked.
“She,” his eyes widened and he shook his head (and placed a hand against his forhead and leaned back against the wall), “put them away.”
“Hmm,” Orh said, “now if you wanted to show someone you didn’t want to kill them, is is possible that drawing and showing your weapon, and then placing it back in it’s sheath would be a good way to do that? Perhaps it is a sign of peace. Gratitude even.”
Davian’s eyes widened.
“Viper’s don’t feel gratitude Orh. I humiliated her. Forced her to fake weakness in front of me to spare her life.” Davian tensed. “This wasn’t a sign of peace, it was a warning.”
“Oh now,” Orh said, “you don’t know that.”
“It makes sense Orh,” Davian said, “she doesn’t just want to kill me. She wants me to anticipate my death! To agonize over it,” Davain groaned, “it’s so fiendishly clever. This wasn’t a sign of peace, it was a warning.”
(end of chapter whatever. Possibly swap these two reaction scenes in the book).
I’m glad to see you think this is funny. At least one of us should find this serious threat to my life amusing
Scene 14
Orh and Davian have an argument over whether Klesa should go into town with them, or separately (due to the suspicion they get from being seen traveling with a Viper). Orh insists that Klesa goes with them, causing Klesa to like Orh even more.
Scene 15
Klesa starts coming out of her shell and talking more around Orh?
Scene 16
Orh makes Klesa laugh?
Scene 1000000
(climax! ORH IS DEAD!!!!! Davian will need to decide whether to move on or not)
Scene where Davian tries to kill Klesa again. Klesa’s lying prone on the ground, waiting for death. Davain has is sword raised over her chest. Trident, who has been chewing through her halter ropes nearby finally snaps them and gallops over to stand over Klesa.
“NO!” Trident whinnied, rearing over Klesa’s prone form. “Trident,” Klesa shouted, “what are you doing, get away from him.” “No,” Trident said, “I’ll not let him kill you.” “A talking horse,” Davian said, “You enslaved a talking horse! You Viper! You beast! Go Trident, be free, your cruel master shall soon be delt with.” Trident stood legs spread apart and raised her head to gaze into Davain’s eyes. “Kill her sir,” she said, “and you will have to kill me first.” “What?” Davain asked, “has she cast a spell on you? Go. You are free.” “I have,” Trident said slowly, emphasizing each word, “always been free.” “Don’t talk nonsense horse,” Davian said, “If you were free, why on earth would you choose to follow such a monster?” “Listen closely sir.” Trident said, stepping off Klesa. “I will only ask you this once. If you answer yes, you must kill us both. If you answer no, you will spare us both and we will be free to leave you.” “No Trident,” Klesa said, sitting up. “Don’t stake your life in with mine. You should go.” “I will not leave you to die alone.” Trident said firmly. “Why would I agree to such a preposition?” Davian said, “You could ask me anything. And why would I agree to slay you as well as the Viper? You’ve done no wrong.” “This is a matter of conscience sir,” Trident said, “of what you believe. If your answer and your actions align, you will leave with a clean conscience and live the rest of your life in peace about it. If your answer and actions do not align, you will regret it for the rest of your life.” (I feel like I should have more dialogue here, but I just want to get to Trident’s bit) “Go on,” Davian said, hesitantly. “Every year, children are taken captive from our enemies, and some from our own people, and raised to become Prize fighters. They are trained to fight, to kill, and they continue to kill even after they win and are set free. They become in the eyes of people, monsters. Vipers. Brutes. Gracers.” “I know how Prize fighting works Trident.” “These children,” Trident continued, “are taken some as young as two years old. Klesa was six. She was put in the arena for the first time when she was eight. How old were you,” Trident asked, stalking towards Davain a few steps, “When you first had to fight for your life?” “What do I have to do with all this?” “Prize fighters train together, they talk to each other, and then they are forced to kill each other. They make friends, when they first arrive, and then they are forced to slay them.” “Of course they do,” Davian said, “They’re monsters.” “You told me once you watched a Brute slay your entire village (he talked to her once before he knew she could understand him),” Trident said, “your friends, your family, people you had come to know. Now imagine if that had happened in an arena, and now you are forced to kill them or you will be killed. That is what Prize Fighting really is.” Davian gritted his teeth. “How can you compare what happened to my village to Prize fighting? Those people who died were innocent.” “So are the children who die on their first day in the arena.” “But they are Prize Fighters. They kill for a living.” “They don’t have a choice.” Despite himself, Davian closed his eyes and placed a hand across his forhead, and leaned his head back. “Who are the true monsters?” Trident asked, “The people who are forced to become monsters? Or the society that takes a person, a child, and makes them into a monster?” “You said you would ask me a question horse,” Davian said, pointing his sword at her, “now ask.” “What are Klesa’s crimes other than that she was a prize fighter?” Trident asked. “I don’t know,” Davian said through clenched teeth. “Is she the Brute responsible for slaying your village?” Davian glanced at the Viper. He noted the torn cloths, the blood on her pants leg, and the jagged scar on her face. “No.” he growled. “Is it just for you to punish her for his crimes?” “No.” “Keeping that in mind, can you with a good conscience, stand here and condemn her simply for being a Prize Fighter?” The Viper, Klesa Trident had called her, sat with head bowed. She stared at the ground, hugging her left arm to her side. Tears flowing down her face. Sitting like that, she looked almost human. But she was still a Viper. “I don’t know,” he whispered. “What are you going to do then?” Trident asked. Holding his sword in one hand. He pulled an extra leather thong from the saddle bag. He walked over to Klesa. He stood over her. She sat still, hugging her chest with both arms. “Viper,” Davian said. She didn’t respond. “Viper!” he paused, softer he said, “Klesa.” She glanced up at him, then back at the ground. “Get up,” he said, firmly. She stood, head still hung. “Hold out your hands,” he said. She held her arms out in front of her, head hung, palms up. Davian wrapped the cord tightly around her wrists and tied it tight. Then he tied the other end to a post in the ground. Next he bound her legs together. “We will sleep here for tonight,” Davian said, laying on the ground, “tomorrow we will continue our journey to TOrouttra, (possibly just called TOr for short) to investigate the poisoned waters.” (Orh is dead by now) “Just the three of us?” Trident asked, “don’t you think that might be a bit, inappropriate. Kelisa is after all, a female.” Davian flushed, then snorted. “Don’t be silly horse she’s a Viper.” Davian rolled on his side to sleep, then quickly rolled on his back again to face Trident. “Besides Trident, you could act as a chaperon.”
(end of book 1)
Would that be inappropriate? She was after all a female. But she was a viper, so it didn’t matter. Besides, Trident could chaperon.
Davian glanced at the Viper. Klesa, Trident had called her. Of course, Vipers didn’t have names. Did they?
