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The Freelance Hunters Launch Party!

May 19, 2014

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Are you going to Balticon next weekend?

On Sunday Night, I’ll be teaming up with the Fiendmaster himself, Paul E. Cooley, for a Freelance Hunters/The Street launch party!

I’m not exactly sure what Paul’s got up his sleeve, but it’s going to be epic!  I’ll be announcing some Freelance Hunters news, previewing an upcoming story with the vocal talents of the one and only Lauren ‘Scribe’ Harris, and giving away fabulous prizes:  A one-of-a-kind bookmark and pendant from Black Unicorn Wood, and a hand-crafted medieval board game from The Goblin Parlor!  There might even be snacks!  So come celebrate the release of “Glory’s Gauntlet” with me, and find out where the series is headed!

Elanterra Journal 005: The Elves

May 1, 2014

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The Elves, the Forest People, dwell almost exclusively in the massive Ironwood, a sea of trees which dominates Elanterra’s South-Eastern peninsula. Very few outsiders have ever stood at the heart of the Elven holdings, and their stories are often contradictory. What is known for certain is that the Ironwood is a natural fortress of maze-like trails, bloodthirsty animals and plants, and wild magic. To enter their domains without Elven guides is fatal.

The Elves are taller than a human, but usually very thin. Their features are delicate and beautiful. They claim to be ageless, although little proof exists to support this claim. Elves are greatly skilled at magic, but only practice the skill with other peoples reluctantly. Their use of magic is highly religious, and they claim that other practitioners somehow misuse ‘the gifts of the Mother.’ Whether this refers to the earth itself or to their mysterious Goddess is unclear.

ALthough they are not welcoming hosts, some Elves have engaged with the rest of Elanterra. They are strong supporters of the Alliance, and dutifully send ambassadors across the Island. The nature of these diplomatic visits causes the Elves to be seen as haughty and intrusive to the other Peoples.

There is a great benefit to these travels, however. Elves have laid roads across the island that are strong, wide, and easy to navigate. Trade and travel flourish along these byways, and banditry is almost unheard of. They even engage in some trade with Ferros, selling their Ironwood, which is said to have many great qualities, to the Dwarves for precious metals and gems.

Elves have the dubious distinction of being the only people able to mate successfully with Humans. The Half-Elves, as they are called, are shunned by both societies, and Elves known to consort with Humans are exiled. They rarely live long outside of their forest homes, but Half-Elves are becoming more and more common in the Great Cities.

Compiler’s Note: Aside from their seat on the Council of Five Peoples, the Elves have completely retreated beyond the reach of other Peoples. Even then, they say little and do nothing more than watch. The reasons for their withdrawal are unclear. Some sages theorize that a plague or some other catastrophe has struck the Heartwood. Others claim a political shift. In any case, There have been no corroborated sightings of an Elf outside of Isleheart Castle in more than a century. The Half-Elves only grow more and more common, however, and most sightings of ‘True’ Elves are likely scams perpetrated by their base-born kin.

“Elanterra Journal” is a look into the People, Places, and history of the Island of Elanterra, the setting of the Freelance Hunters stories.   “Glory’s Gauntlet,” an ebook collection of four Freelance Hunters shorts, is available from Amazon and Smashwords.

Fiction: The Least Unicorn, A Freelance Hunters Adventure

August 7, 2013

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The Freelance Hunters came to the village of Corn Hall looking for a unicorn. Rumors of the beast had flooded every tavern in Elanterra, it seemed, and all three of them were hunting the beast for a different reason.

“I’ve heard unicorns have razor-sharp hooves, and their horns can rend the strongest armor!” Joachim said, brandishing his fearsome spear Incisor. “they will battle anyone unworthy of them to the death!”

“Just don’t go busting its forehead lance too much. It’s worth mad loot on the slack,” said Bingo, their tracker.

“You two are not going to kill that noble and beautiful creature!” said Glory the magician. “Unicorns are one of the rarest cryptids on the island. If I can study one, or better yet, capture it alive, I’ll be the toast of the Academy!”

“I’ve heard only a fair maiden can capture one. What are our chances, Glory?” Joachim asked. She thumped him on the back of the leg with her staff in reply. When they finally reached the town, they found a festival atmosphere, complete with pantomime unicorns, booths selling every kind of food with corn in it imaginable, and all manner of charms and tokens for sale, each one ‘guaranteed’ to help catch the beast. Joachim gleefully consumed a prodigious amount of the local corn whiskey, and the other two hired a local fellow by the name of Finnegan to act as guide. They left the fair well alone, and headed out into the fields the next morning.

At first, signs of the beast were slim. Finnegan knew the area well, but he was a corn farmer, not a tracker, and it was difficult for Bingo to pick up much of anything, until they found the track. It was deep, and not more than two hours old. The hunt was on.

They went two more days, always frustratingly close to the creature, but it was tireless, and seemed to slip away every time they got close. They caught a glimpse of it when they stopped to rest on the second night, just a shadow against the stars. It had to have been the largest equine any of them had ever seen, and the horn poked straight from the top of its head. They renewed their efforts. Bingo set some traps and breaks in the forest. The unicorn could avoid them, but before long, they had it cornered in a little glade in the woods, sheltered by rises on all sides.

The Freelance Hunters descended into the valley. The beast was there, drinking from a brook that trickled between two boulders. Late afternoon sunlight drifted through the high branches, filling the glade with majesty and awe. And then the creature looked up and stared at them. The hunters stared back. Neither moved for a long time.

“Glory,” Joachim said at last. “There isn’t any magic here, right? This isn’t an illusion or anything?”

“Nope.”

“And you all see it too, it’s not just me?”

“Nope.”

“So it’s really…” He trailed off.

“A huge white horse,” Glory began

“With an ear of corn fixed to his head,” Bingo finished. All three of them turned to look at their guide. He grinned sheepishly.

“The village had a bumper crop, last year,” He said, as though this explained everything.

“So? Joachim asked, adjusting the grip on his spear.

“So we sold so much corn, the price went through the floor! Corn’s just about the only thing we grow out here, and with corn being almost worthless, the village needed money. The town elder came up with a plan, though. When he was a boy, the Corn Hall was threatened by a manticore that came down from the mountains. Monster slayers came from all over to slay it. So…”

“So you invented another monster.” Glory said.

“The elder thought the whole thing up! Bronco down there is the fastest horse for miles around. We didn’t think anyone would be able to catch him.” The Freelance Hunters returned to the village of Corn Hall that evening. They did not stop at the fair or playhouse. They made a brief visit to the Elder’s house, so that they could show him a few more uses for an ear of corn. The story of that visit is occasionally recounted by a few of the more risque troubadours in the area. After that, there were no more monster sightings in Corn Hall for many, many years.