Character Intro for a Fantasy novel

Cryst raised his gloved hand to his mouth to stifle his yawn as he pondered what his life had become. The sounds of children at play and light festive music were like the grating of hard metal against bone to his ears. Even still his eyes never left his charge. Lord Haim’s eight-year-old daughter danced and played with the rest of the children. She clapped and cheered at the hired jester and gorged herself on the sweetcakes and candies being served. She acted as if she did not have a care in the world and she didn’t as far as Cryst was concerned. He was not sure which loud spoiled brat’s birthday it was, but he was sure that Tashia had no reason to fear. He had been Lord Haim’s personal family bodyguard since he had arrived in River’s Bend two years ago. The lord had recognized him from the Western Wars where they both had served



“Captain!” shouted Haim, a tall, bearded, blond haired man with a regal bearing. “You ol’ cur! What are you doing in River’s Bend?” Haim would’ve have recognized his friend anywhere. Cryst’s striking red hair and broad physique stood out in almost any crowd. Haim use to joke that the captain had “shoulders broader then an Orc’s” and was just as strong. There many a dead Orc to prove his words true. Cryst turned to the middle-aged statesman and his hard face cracked into a crooked smile. Haim always found Cryst’s eyes a little unnerving, a little too green and clear, like he was seeing the aura more than the man. Cryst was not what you would call a handsome man, not because his features were unpleasant just the opposite. However, he had the look and bearing of a predator trying to decide if you were prey. Haim was happy to see his former first officer and gave him a warm hug and sturdy clap on the shoulder. “I thought you would be enjoying your wife’s ‘welcome home’ gifts by now.”

Haim leered provocatively at Cryst and fluttered his eyebrows to remove any remaining doubt about what “gifts” he was referring to.

Cyrst’s cheeks turned crimson competing with his amber hair for attention on his face. “I’ve been home, I pratically ran there once the amnesty pact was announced. There was nothing left.” he said through clenched teeth.

“Don’t tell me she threw you out on your ear. I mean I can’t blame Annabelle for coming to her senses but….”

“She’s dead.” Cryst said his eyes sculpted into a cold hard stare. “Raiders attacked my lands while we were west. They looted my lands, my storehouses, and my home. The killed everyone on the lands. Ana, my house servants, my field hands……….my children too.”

“I-I don’t know what to say Captain.” Haim stammered all pretense of joviality gone from his tone. “No one told you? No one was brought to justice? What did the local Constable say? Who was responsible for letting this happen!”

“I guess no one could locate me while we were keeping the empire free from tyranny.” sneered the captain, his sarcasm not lost on Haim. “And as far as I can tell the lands were full of raiding bands, the local law was in disarray and was spending their time protecting their own. Who knows which sons of bitches were responsible.”

Haim looked at his former comrade in arms. “Poor bastard.” thought Haim, “He survived the horrors of war for what?”

“So. What brings you to River’s Bend?”

“Looking for work mostly. Since my land and fortune is gone I figured someone could use an old Motall Brigade captain.”

Haim could feel the pain in Cryst’s words. "Cryst is a proud man," thought Haim as he silently surveyed the former captain. His clothes were dirty and ragged from being worn for several days in a row. His face was gaunt and dull and smeared with the dirt, grime and soot of the impoverished. He could tell Cryst had not eaten a real meal in days, maybe even a week. However in this man’s eyes he saw a determination and zeal born from pain and sharpened by purpose. The former brigade commander knew that Cryst would not accept charity or pity, he would die of starvation and exposure first; but he had to aid his friend. Quickly, he decided his course of action.

“I know someone who could use a strong sword.”

“Who?” inquired Cryst cautiously, his pride surrendering briefly to his empty stomach.

“Me. What a minute hear me out!” pleaded Haim, waving his hand to stop Cryst’s refusals. “I am part of the Emperor’s royal counsel now…I know, I know,” interjected the blond haired diplomat quickly seeing a confused look in his friend’s green eyes. “Don’t get me wrong I have no love for the Pradins, but we need representation in the legislature. Whether we like it or not we are subjects under the rule of Emperor Sidec for now and our interests need to be protected.”

Cryst thought about this and then shrugged. Haim was right the war was over, they lost and the Pradins rule these lands now. To deny this would do nothing but cause undue stress. “So what does that have to do with me?” asked the former captain, “I’m not a politician.”

“I know, that’s why I like you.” laughed Haim, as he put his arm around Cryst’s shoulder and guided him down the street. “I wouldn’t trust the lot of those bastards as far as I could toss’em. No, I need someone to watch over my family while I attend to the affairs of the state. Some do not see what I’m doing as positive; in some circles I’ve been branded a traitor.” This last statement was said in a low whisper. Cryst looked into the penetrating gaze of his former commander and saw he was not joking. This was no charity job.

“I’ll do it.”

“Excellent! Now let me take you to my home introduce you around and get you settled in.”

Cryst soon became more than a hired sword for Haim’s family. He quickly became almost one of the family, not just charged with the family’s personal security but with the defense of the entire estate. He was happy and pleased with his lot in life, but one could not be in his presence for more then a few minutes and not feel an aura of sadness around him that no amount of joy and happiness could disperse. Cryst’s sadness hurt Haim deeply but the tall strong man was at a lost on how to help his tormented brother in arms. The redheaded soldier had to battle his own demons and hopefully win.

“Tashia, time to go!” called Cryst to his young charge who was engaging in an animated discussion with three other young girls about the games played that day.

“Oh already!” pouted the brown haired girl. Tashia had the tan skin and exotic features of her mother a native of the Beck Islands. However she also had the proud and regal mannerisms of her father, along with his height. This mixture made her a pretty girl one who was destined to leave a trail of broken hearts behind her. “It feels like we just got here.”

“Not to me” thought Cryst who, after an afternoon with only eight year olds for company, was looking forward to spending time with someone who didn’t think running around in circles screaming at the top of their lungs was a good time.

“It’s time. I’ve got to get you home. Did you forget? Your Father’s due in this evening.”

The eight year old’s mouth transformed from a disappoint pout to a wide grin. “Daddy’s back! I almost forgot. Come on. Come on!” She commanded as she ran toward to the waiting carriage.

Cryst smiled and chuckled under his breath at the youngster’s sudden mood swing. A twinge of pain struck him as he thought of his own daughter, long dead under the knife of an unknown assassin. The pain had dulled over time but was still sharp enough to sting his eyes with unshed tears. As he followed his friend’s daughter into the carriage he scanned the visible road and then the attending guard, making sure all was right. Cryst took his charge of protecting Haim’s family seriously and he was meticulous in its execution. After inspecting the inside of the carriage and making sure Tashia was securely seated inside, he instructed the driver to proceed. Pretty soon Tashia was sleeping soundly exhausted from the afternoon’s exertions, with her head resting on the stoic redhead’s shoulder. Cryst stared at the passing terrain through the silk curtain draped over the carriage’s windows. He absently stroked the young girl’s hair while his eyes darting along the road, forever searching for threats and dangers.





Duorden sat on the side of his bed as the sun peeked through the morning clouds. The dwarf’s legs hung in the air too short to reach the floor. His thoughts were dark and foreboding. Almost as dark as his hair, which was the color of pure coal. He kept his hair in traditional dwarf fashion. His mustache and beard was so thick and long that it obscured most of his face. If fact other races had extremely difficulty telling dwarves apart for this very reason. The end of his beard was twisted into two plaits tied with amber strings signifying his order of knights. He was well muscled and lacked the paunchy stomach most dwarves carried. His mid section was rock hard and rippled as was the rest of him. His head hung down from his shoulders as he mired in self-damnation. He was not a dwarven knight he told himself, he was a liar and a betrayer, both of these discretions banned in the Knight’s code of honor. He deserved shame and punishment, not glory and honor. His mind dwelled on these feelings, deeply abusing his soul and spirit. He sat there brooding until the small form lying next to him stirred, snatching him back to the here and now.

“You need to leave,” growled the sullen dwarf staring straight ahead blankly.

“Don’t worry,” announced a voice muffled by the bed linen over the speaker’s head. “He’s not coming back to our chambers until just before breakfast. And that’ll be just to wash and change. Affairs of the state and all.”

“Affairs, eh?”

Duorden’s bedmate pulled back the silken sheets to expose her naked body to the chilled morning air. Edina was considered one of the most beautiful creatures in existence, by dwarven standards. Her long sideburns and square shoulders were the envy of all the females on the royal court. Her honey brown hair and matching eyes melted the hearts of all the dwarf men of Lodin. Her husband was so smitten by her beauty that when he first saw her he immediately knew he would move heaven and earth to posses her. But he was not here now; drawn away with diplomatic concerns he had left his wife to her own devices, which was a dangerous thing. Edina was as cunning as she was beautiful and she never hesitated to use her effect on the opposite sex to her advantage or amusement. Amusement was her purpose with Duorden. She found the bleak knight as interesting, which was probably why she had remained engrossed with him long after she would have discarded her other lovers due to boredom.

“Now don’t get all moody on me,” she teased.

“I’m not moody.”

“Well then you’re miserable and I can’t stand that either.” Edina wrapped herself in the bed sheets as she sat upright on the bed. “I swear any dwarf in the realm would give their right arm to be where you are.”

“Really?” inquired Duorden. His hands absently stroking his thick beard. His face twisted into a scowl betraying his thoughts of disgrace and violence.

“First officer of the King’s personal guard,” continued Edina oblivious to the knight’s inner struggle. “War hero, highest honored of the Amber Knights…“

“Adulterer,” interjected the tortured champion as he turned to face the grinning temptress.

Edina stretched lazily in the sheets furiously jumbled from a night of passion and restless sleep. “I believe I’m the adulterer darling.” As if to prove her point Edina seductively let the sheets drop from her naked chest. Her breast heaving as she breathed in the young day’s air. “I believe you would be considered the beneficiary.”

“Why do we do this,” asks Duorden to no one in particular.

“Why?” giggled Edina, as she traced the outline of Duorden’s stout cheek with her stubby fingers.

“That’s not what I meant!” rumbled Duorden as he grabbed her hand and pushed it furiously away. Duorden shoved himself onto the floor. Although he was tall for a dwarf, about four feet, he was still comically out of proportion with the room built for much taller races. The ruling council met for one month out of the year. This meant that the leaders of all allied nations gathered together in one place. The meeting sight this year was the human nation of Eladin. The Eladins were fierce warriors and loyal allies. The dwarves being one of the shorter races had grown accustomed to bringing along a lot of personal effects knowing that most other nations did not have accommodations for their stature. Duorden however brought no such personal effects with him. The knight brought only what was necessary for him to perform his duties and defend his charges. He walked over to the bathing tray placed on the other side of the room. The bathing tray was one of the few items in the room made for a dwarf. The royal family happened to bring along an extra one and the king, knowing his best friend, gave it to Duorden. The bathing tray contained a large bowl, towel and a pitcher of water chilled by the night’s air. Duorden poured the water into the bowl then dipped his hands into the water. He splashed the water on his face as if hoping to wash away the dark stains on his soul. “Why do we set out on paths that we know lead to despair?”

“You just need to count your blessings.”

“Blessings,” spat Duorden as if the word tasted bitter in his mouth. “You mean curses. I’m a knight, because I’m cursed to be a killer! I’m a war hero, because I’m cursed to be a survivor! I’m in the King’s personal guard because the king is cursed to have me as a friend!”

“Poor Duorden” mocked Edina. “Fame, fortune, glory and a fine woman in his bed.”

Duorden turned to face the female who was the object of his deepest desires and his strongest hate. His thick black eyebrows set into a deep scowl, his pitch black eyes piercing her soul. “Don’t mock me.”

“Or what!” snapped Edina, grinning because she enjoyed the slow torture of her lover. “What will you do? Don’t forget your place!”

“This needs to end.”

“Then end it,” snapped Edina, as she stood up and wrapped the sheets around her nude form. ‘You’re all talk. You speak of respect and honor. But you’re lying, cheating and sleeping with you best friend’s wife!” The small dwarf female stepped closer to Duorden, who was staring at her in open disgust.

“You’ve said this all before!” screamed the female. “’Its wrong, we must stop.’ But here I am naked in your bed. The person you lie to the most is yourself. Your pathetic, you blame the world for your problems when you cause them yourself!”

The whole time Edina was scolding him Duorden was staring daggers at her. She did not care, she knew he would not dare do anything to her and he could not expose their affair. He was trapped like an insect in the sap of a tree. The only difference was that an insect had death to look forward to soon, while the dwarf had only misery ahead of him.

“Your husband will be back soon, you must go.”

“The King is expecting diplomats from the ruling council today. He wants a formal escort to meet them. Take care of it,” snapped Edina. Gathering the sheets against herself she scampered quickly down the hall to the royal chambers to await the king’s return.

Duorden walked toward the window the warming rays of the new sun unable to reach his soul. The honored warrior searched in his mind for a solution to his pain. When no remedy presented itself he resolved to continue his silent suffering. Turning to face the sun as it awakened the newly annexed realm he sighed heavily. Even now the memory of Edina and their night of reckless passion invaded his thoughts. Realizing he was powerless to resists the river of fate he found himself drowning in he went about preparing himself for the daily duties of his station.

“Aye m’lady.”