This scene from Midnight Warrior takes place near the beginning. Josten, the hero and the narrator, has lead a crew of pirates out of prison and into an abandoned warehouse. He has been recruited by Narcul, the villain, to find out who is the infamous Midnight Warrior. He is trying to discover that...and flirt a little bit while he is at it. (eye roll)
I'm beginning to get sick of this eerie feeling that they can tell when I am lying. And I'm getting sick of telling the truth. I decide to keep going with it though, so I grin and nod, “Who wouldn't want to know who the Midnight Warrior is? Anyone who can make the Fastons squeal that much is someone I would love to meet.”
“Its not Caid,” Aralyn says quietly, “Does that help?”
“Nope, not a bit. You could be lying,” I point out. I sit down beside her. She does not move, and the air around her seems to be a bit colder. Probably just the wind.
She smiles, “A liar knows a liar. You would know if I were lying.”
“So you think I'm a liar? How could you!?” I exclaim.
Aralyn laughs, “You are a liar.”
“Are you a liar?” I ask.
She shrugs, “Depends.”
We are silent for a moment. I stare through a crack in the roof at a large cloud that is moving through the sky, covering the stars. I look back at her, “Okay. So I want to know who the Midnight Warrior is. How about I walk around the room and you play 'hot or cold' with me. Deal?”
She smiles, “Who do you think it is?”
“Hmm...well,” I nod towards each person as I say their name, “Nyra is creepy enough, but she's stupid. Nibor is big enough, but he seems too nice. Gelane is bossy enough, but she is too small. Trent is a prince so that could work, but he's too young. Caid is certainly mysterious enough, but you have denied his being the Midnight Warrior. I think you are a liar, but I don't think you were lying. And you?” I grin at her. Her icy blue eyes are large and sparkling in the light, “You're too pretty to be the Midnight Warrior.”
She smirks, “Thank you. So you think the Midnight Warrior is a creepy, big, bossy, princely, mysterious, ugly Illapulian? That sounds more like a Faston guard to me.”
I laugh, “Agreed. When you lump it all together, it doesn't sound right.”
“You never said who you think is the Midnight Warrior,” Aralyn points out.
“I'd say the most likely candidates are Nibor or Caid, perhaps you. But, no offense, every story of the Midnight Warrior says that he is a man.”
Aralyn nods, “Yes. They do.”
(facepalm) Typical Josten... It's in need of some serious editting I know, but I don't have much time to blog right now. Any suggestions on what to fix would be appreciated. :)
Here is a bit from "Ember Flame" too.
Ember, the heroine, has been captured by slave traders and has been in a cage all day. Nobody has bought her yet because she has made herself such a pain.
Five young men were walking by, seeming to pay no attention to the slaves. They were talking boisterously, their armor clanking and reflecting the dying light. They all paused in front of Alenand.
“I wonder why old Alenand has not sold this one yet?” One of them asked, pointing to Ember.
One of his comrades nudged him, “Brodin, he's probably priced her to high, and I don't really blame him.”
“Stupid fool!” Ember snapped. They were quiet, “He hasn't actually priced me at all, in fact, he offered to give me away for free to the last insignificant idiot who was by here. Obviously, I have caused such problems that I am not even worth that, so hopefully, you will use some remnants of this amazing organ everybody allegedly has. Its called the brain, ever heard of it? Now, before you waste your time and I waste any more of my breath, I suggest you hurry along before that pathetic oaf Alenand returns from the wine shop, odds are drunker than a duck, and wanting to make you pay some obscene price for me. Obscene meaning free. So, to sum it all up in case you didn't understand. Go away, if you don't, I'll kill you somehow, someday, I promise. And I enjoy keeping those promises.”
A few of the young men huffed, “Who do you think you are?” The one addressed as Brodin bellowed.
“I think I'm someone with a good deal more intelligence than you, which is not that hard a feat to accomplish.” Ember retorted.
Brodin spotted Alenand crossing the courtyard, holding a wine glass in his hand.
“I suggest,” Brodin exploded as Alenand neared, “That you find a way to destroy this wench immediately! You will help everyone in the city by doing so!”
Brodin grabbed three of his friends and stormed off.
Only one remained.
Ember fixed her angry, sardonic glare on him. His face would place him at late thirties, but his eyes were young and alert. He was very tall, about as tall as Coal, with silver black hair. His face was taut, and was clear of any emotion. He looked as hard as stone, even his bright blue eyes were piercing and harsh.
Ember hated him.
“Mr. Alenand,” He said, offering a deep nod, “I would like to buy this girl. Would you take one hundred?”
Alenand was so stunned, he dropped his glass. It shattered on the pavement.
Ember began to panic, but she didn't show it. Instead she leaned casually and let out a brisk laugh, “Wonderful! I'll have fun here, if you buy me, do make sure you don't leave knives, rope, wood, discarded paper, cloth, or practically anything where I could reach . I'm sure you would hate for anything to happen, though I certainly would not. I thought it only fair to warn you, poor fool.”
He looked at her for a second and paused. Ember glared at him. He smiled, “I'll take that under consideration. Thank you for your concern.” His voice was dripping with a cynical but amused mockery.
Ember hated him. But now....now she feared. And she hated fearing.
He turned back to Alenand, “Come now, man, actually, I'm sure one hundred is too low....what say you too one hundred fifty? Seventy? Name your price.”
“Ohh...sir,” Alenand said, “I couldn't...she is...I just...”
“Stop stammering please, I really don't have all night. Just name your price, anything, come now.”
“I..I...I don't take or give refunds you know.” Alenand said.
The man waved him off, “Yes, yes, I know. Your sign says as much, please your price sir?”
“One hundred fifty it is then...”
“No! Just fifty!”
“But sir, you must be crazy! That is far too low. I think one hundred fifty is too low, but as you are being so generous...I cannot decline.”
“Here you are,” He said, dropping a bag of coins into the man's reluctant palm. “Now just open the cage and get her out.”
“I...I...thank you sir! Yes, yes I will!” Alenand grabbed the keys and rushed inside the cage. Ember wasted no time in kicking him. Alenand groaned in pain and glared at her.
The man chuckled, “Those won't be necessary.”
“Those?” Alenand asked.
The man nodded, “Yes. The bonds, you can lose them...” After looking at Alenand's expression, he chuckled again, “Or...I'll lose them. Whichever works best.”
Alenand pushed Ember down the ramp and tossed her at the man. “Thank you! Thank you!And..er...no refunds!”
The man nodded and smiled, then immediately yanked the ropes off Ember hands. She jerked around and landed a slap on his face. Well...that was the theory anyway. The man ducked as Ember swung. She stumbled and nearly fell.
“I suggest not doing that again,” He laughed. Then he stopped, “I highly suggest not doing that again.”
(sigh) Typical Ember. She needs counseling.
Anyway, hope you enjoyed it! And I hope to do a real post soon! :)