Well, I’m getting ready to start chapter 4 of what I’m now calling Wraith of Talera, which I decided was more indicative of what was going to happen in the book than “ghost.” I’ve been writing fairly slowly, but making progress. So far I’m at 20 something pages and roughly 8,000 words. A long way to go, for sure, but these books have been running between 70,000 and 75,000 words so it’s not as far away as it might seem. Today while I’m out and about on a bunch of errands I plan to do some plotting. It’s needed, believe me, although I’ve created two new characters that I’m growing fond of, a young man named Munt and a woman warrior named Shai.
So far the chapters are entitled:
Chapter 1. Echoes of War
Chapter 2. No Victory Without Loss
Chapter 3. Of the Dead and the Living
Chapter 4. The Awakening
I don’t plan to run this book, or even large sections of it, on my blog as I write it, but here’s a little flavor. This piece features Jask, who had an important role in Swords of Talera. The “I” in the following is Ruenn Maclang, of course.
Strange as it sounds, a visit from a group of Klar provided a welcome distraction. At the group’s head stalked Jask, my old friend, with his blood-red targe slung over his back and the pommel of a well used broadsword beneath his hand. I strode to meet him and we clasped arms. He smiled, and meant it. Though few of his people either express or seem to truly understand human emotions, Jask was an exception. I did not know why. Nor did I ask. The one time I had mentioned it to him he claimed to be insulted.
“I should renegotiate our agreement,” Jask said. “You failed to deliver on your promises.”
“Oh?” I asked. “What promises were those?”
“You claimed there’d be a fight and then went ahead and had all the fun yourselves. We scarcely got our ships into battle before the krutt-lovers surrendered.”
“I guess we got carried away,” I replied. “But if you’d like there’s still the remainder of the Ubain empire. We could always invade and conquer them.”
He laughed and slapped me on the shoulder. “Humph. I’ve got enough hassle trying to govern my own people. I’d never want to rule a bunch of troublesome humans. Especially not if there were any more like you among them.”
"There are no more quite like him,” Rannon said as she came up beside me. “Of course, he is from another world.”
“A world where the delicate flower of the Klar race never took root,” I added.
Jask shook his head. “A sad little place where there are no Klar,” he said, before sketching a bow to Rannon. “But you, Milady. Your khi was surely once housed in Klar form.”
“I think you’ve just been insulted,” I said to my wife, grinning. “Maybe I should take this Klar outside and teach him some manners.”
“Oh, ho,” Jask said. “And still I’d not have the fight you promised.”