Fly Away...

An excerpt from the prologue of my new novel,
The Tale of the Winter Wind

Please excuse the poor format of its appearance, Im not soo good with webpages!



	With a quick stroke of the flint against steel the fireplace roared to life. Its warm orange glow danced upon the old fire maker's beard casting a troupe of shadows throughout the empty tavern. With a sigh the little man stood from his slumped position in front of the fire and went to unbar the door. "Ugh, these old bones are cold... weather's gettin' worse." He grunted as he pulled the metal pole out of place. With a jerk the sturdy oaken door swung open and in flowed the icy chill of the dead season. Quietly the aging innkeeper shot his head out the crack in the door and let out a shout, "Tabard's Alehouse is open! The wind may be cryin' but when you're here thirst is a dyin'" The little man pulled his head back in and rammed his shoulder against the door, slamming it closed with a thud. He knew no one would come; his tiny tavern had lost even the most loyal patrons in the coldest winter anyone on Feria could remember. As the old man turned to go back to the fire pit he heard a loud banging on the door. Surprised by the sudden noise he swung around and jerked at the huge iron door handle. It came open easy enough for him, but he had always gotten complaints from the various elven customers that wandered on his pub. They always came on a journey but ended up staying on for several days for the world-famous mead. Beyond the open door stood two hooded figures, were they elves or young women the old dwarf couldn't tell through the haze of shadow cast by their robes. "Ar, come on in! Tavern just opened so ol' Tabard here can fetch you some good mead in but a nitch's twitch!" The two figures nodded and walked in without a word. "Quiet folk and ol' Tabard doesn't recognize those robes, travelers?" Tabard, the tavern master, added quickly. Again the figures nodded. "Humph, Well I'll leave you be. Gotta fetch the mead from the kitchen" The dwarf stomped off towards the kitchen and the two figures quickly walked to a table near the fire, nearer to the wall. The two figures lowered their hoods as they sat; meeting each other's eyes as they did so. It was obvious they were elves, their alabaster skin shimmered in the firelight and their long black hair, tucked behind their pointed ears, was braided with several colored beads. The two were sitting quietly staring into the fire when Tabard reappeared from the kitchen. "Elves, eh? What brings you folks out of your tree houses in this weather?" the dwarf asked while placing two large ale steins down on the table before them. One of the elves looked up, with eyes full of sorrow he spoke. "Our queen mother has sent us here." "Queen mother? Bloody elven hierarchy. She sent you out to dye in the cold?" The elf's gaze hardened at the dwarf's words "That will be all tavern master." With an annoyed nod Tabard turned and walked to the fireplace. "Don't mean to pry now, but I've not had anyone in here for a week, since the blizzard struck." he added while stoking the fire. "It is quite alright master dwarf. We know our arrival was unexpected, and you must excuse my assistant's attitude, this is his first journey out of the heartland." The words came from the still figure of the other elf. As he spoke he lifted his gaze from the lapping flames of the fire to the rugged dwarf. "I am Aeglos Lirinen, lord of the elvish court of Asca Dagnir. We come on behalf of Ashima, our goddess." The words flowed from the elder elf like the smooth sound of a babbling brook, and the firelight sparkled on a jeweled circlet set atop his head.

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