This is a chapter. Just wanted to address some questions that were asked . . . . BUT BEFORE THAT! Please, PLEASE use the inheritance codex thread for your questions so I don't keep having to preface chapters with these "author's notes". But anyway, here are your answers.
Yeah, I see where you're coming from since I said I was going to do 3 books instead of 4. However, this book will mostly cover Eldest, and then parts of brisingr will be split between Eldest and Inheritance. So, since this book is MOSTLY eldest as opposed to brisingr, the name of this post is Eldest.
YES I KNOW! I'm using a program called cartographer 3 to make the map but I kinda lost interest in doing it because I didn't think anyone really cared anymore. But, seeing as you care (which means there are probably some people who care as well but just don't say anything) so I will start that anew. The program is somewhat confusing (for me) so yeah I'll have to study more tutorials. Also, where would I put it? As far as I know (And forgive me if I'm wrong, I am new to the site) You can't post images on here I think? And it's a pain to link things . . . I would have to start a website (there are tons of free places) or put it up on an image sharing website . . . which is kinda lame. So the map itself isn't a problem, finding a place for it is . . .
I thought about making a new thread. But I REALLY loathe to let go of all of these views . . . I was personally thinking of finishing Eldest in the same thread as the first book and then starting a new one for inheritance.
-ELDEST CHAPTER 2-
Killian walked along the deck of his flagship, Asoria. Large black sails were engorged with wind as they pulled ahead of thick cross-shaped masts. All about him a diverse crew of Beyonders, Westmen, and even a few Dwarves scurried against the slick oak flooring of the ship. They were a fleet of forty vessels, crossing the semi-charted South Sea, thousands of miles away from the ports of Kamal and even further from Surda. As he passed men they either straightened or began to work vigorously, unnecessarily tugging at tied rope or finding something of interest away from where Killian was. He wore a new mask- a black and red visage with small circles that fit the size of his own eyes perfectly. Curving horns sprouted from either side of the mask, which snugly fit over his entire face and upper neck while black mesh trailed down the lower portions of his collar and over his shoulders. A dark red cape waved like the sails above and the seas below, clasped to his back by iron pins. A staff was strapped behind the cape, and a medium-sized steel rod that had a long sickle as a head hung heavily from his belt.
"Captain Teslyn, more ships ahead." A voice broke Killian's fixed concentration on the seas that ruled all around them.
"Which guild?" Killian asked, opening a gloved hand to retrieve the eyeglass that was presented to him.
Killian lifted the item, fitting the long telescope over his pupil.
"I'm not sure. Looks like Nyste." The young sailor answered, and Killian could sense the boy shaking in his shadow.
"Have the ballistae loaded and strung. Send word to Victory and Langtis , have them stay behind the horizon. Whoever our victims are, they believe we are alone. Let's allow them to cling to that false reality." Killian turned away from the man, dropping the telescope onto the deck. He strode back near his cabin, but then walked up the fleet of stairs that hugged the chambers on the outside. He found his dwarven navigator, a creature named Barnacle Shark. Killian had refused to address the dwarf by such a nonsensical name, and despised the fact that secondsons renamed themselves after the trade in which they took up when reaching adulthood.
"The spotter says there is another Nyste ship ahead." Killian stated, and Barnacle twirled the wheel of the vessel, then gripping the smooth wood harshly, ending the wheel's rotation with an audible chunk.
"I figured as much. We're getting close, though." Barnacle said, yellow teeth shining in the light of the sun.
"The New World." Killian narrowed his eyes. He had needed dwarves to read the map, and found many willing to turn on their own people. Some of them were desperate secondsons who had been expelled from their Guilds . . . but Killian was paranoid by nature. On this ship he was surrounded by potential enemies, and Barnacle was among the most dangerous. He was in a position of power- If Killian killed him, they would be lost a sea. Killian needed him to steer the ship, and Killian required the creature to reach The New World. Due to this, Barnacle was not expendable, and therefore not under Killian's complete control.
"Yes, The New World. I've never seen it . . . but I've heard people talk of it. Seems like there's humans there, too, if you'd believe it. Squinty-eyed munts, with yellowish skin. Some of em' even got hair that's yellower than their flesh. Seen some of em getting sold at Kamal."
Killian had seen that as well, and was again annoyed by Orrin's ineptness. The Langfeld-ruled Surda had outlawed slavery like the mainland, but the laws were not enforced. Trade routes were choked with new shipments of slaves, and the trade would only grow more profitable with the war brewing. And with profit, comes corruption. Killian curled his hands into fists.
"The Nyste ship is raising sail. They're speeding up to us." Barnacle said as his voice filled with excitement. Killian nodded, hopping from the Barnacle's station above the cabin and onto the upper deck below.
"I do not want the ship damaged badly. Kill the crew. Hold your fire initially, and then release the grappling gun. They will have supplies."
There were various grunts as crew members rushed about the deck, which buzzed with hurried chatter. Killian stood amongst it all, his cape billowing around his body. Killian reached behind his back, and then whipped the staff he carried into his palm. He planted the long redwood staff on the floor of the deck, and allowed his hidden power to exude somewhat. The energy from within his body slowly ebbed out, and his crew would notice that they worked a little harder, moved somewhat faster, and their minds a tad sharper than before. The Nyste ship circled around them, and the closer the Nyste got, the clearer Killian could see the ship's crew. However, the Nyste sailed in the direction of the sun, and the celestial body would hide the rest of Killian's fleet until it was too late.
The two ships turned in the water, churning the liquid as they were pushed closer by cool winds. Sails flapped against masts as the first shot was fired. The Nyste released a massive quarrel directly at Asoria's hull . . . but then found that the quarrel was pulled into the sea by invisible hands.
"Fire the hook!" Killian screamed, and then fixed his eyes on the Nyste ship, keen former Rider's eyes . . . He would not need the telescope at this distance. The hook flew from the side-mounted ballistae, a whoosh of sea-air pressing against Killian's mask as it was hurled at the Nyste, a thick corded rope trailing after it. The hook crashed against the Nyste vessel, and the boat lurched to the right as the hook unfurled and stuck itself within the ship's bowels. Two muscular dwarves then began reeling the rope back to the Asoria. The reeling mechanism's metal gears grinded as the crew readied weapons. Killian himself drew his sickle, now armed in both hands. He stepped forward on one foot, and bounced on his heels, allowing the sickle to dangle between his fingers.
The Nyste ship dragged across water, before finally it was in walking distance. The now-shortened rope was taut across the two boats, and Nyste men aimed crossbows at the Asoria.
Just then, Victory came rolling into view, while Langtis followed in its watery wake. The Nyste crew flustered as they caught sight of the two ships coming in from their rear.
"Attack!" Killian roared as dwarves and men answered his call, scampering across the rope. Crossbows released quarrels that caught themselves in their bodies, and some of them fell into the water below. The enemy crew's crossbowmen were cut down by Killian's forces as they loaded the ship, and Killian followed them across the rope. Weapons at the ready, he vaulted across to the boat, bouncing on the rope with one foot and landing on the Nyste deck with a flourish that removed two Nyste of their heads. He turned with a roar, swinging his staff across the chest of a dwarf who ran at him with a massive ax. The dwarf blundered as the wood crashed against him, and Killian swung his sickle into the dwarf's head. It let out a high-pitched yelp, and fell to the bloodied deck as Killian retrieved his weapon from the newly made corpse's head. He turned on his heels, just in time for a crossbow quarrel to hit him squarely in the chest. Killian gasped, dropping his staff as he felt blood travel into his mouth. Another quarrel crashed into his shoulder, pulling the cloth of his cape closer to his body as the projectile dug into his flesh. Killian grunted, running forward as his attacker hastily reloaded his crossbow. Killian threw the sickle across the deck, and the weapon cut through the crossbowmen's forehead. Around him, the Nyste died as his crew fought off the brave survivors. Killian fell over, placing his hands on the deck, trying to lift himself. He found he didn't have enough strength, his hands sliding on warm puddles of blood.
"I've waited a while for this." A voice above him said. Killian looked up, and saw one of his own standing over him, curved blade ready. The man ripped Killian's mask away, and gasped when he saw Killian's ruined face. However, Killian was too weak to use this opportunity to attack, and simply watched the man's face change from horror to grim amusement.
"Di-" The man found the head of a quarrel sticking from his mouth as he choked on his own blood. He fell over, and in his shadow Killian saw a small Beyonder boy, no older than thirteen years.
"What's your name," Killian rasped. Red hair waved before the young boy's black face as he spoke, hiding his dark eyes.
"Rem," He answered as he helped Killian up, his blood painting the deck.
"Why?" Killian asked. Killian had done nothing to warrant the boy saving his life.
"That man's name is Rhoen. He robbed some nights before." Rem said matter-of-factly.
"I know some healing techniques. My mother taught me." Rem informed, as he leaned Killian against the railing of the Nyste Deck.
Killian remembered his surprise when he felt the familiar yet somehow long forgotten sensation of magic spells stitching his skin together, but then everything was cast in a dark shadow while the ocean greedily swallowed the corpses of the Nyste crewmen while they were turned overboard.