Chapter 1 (Sample)

Spotted Woodlands

 

 

   “I don’t like this. We shouldn’t be in these woods.”

   “Would you rather be out there with them?”

   “Papa says these woods are haunted.”

   “No, he didn’t. He said the woods are guarded.”

   “What’s the difference?”

   The snap of a branch froze the three in their tracks. None of them could move. Fear had turned their muscles to stone.

   “What are you three young’uns doing in these woods?”

   The oldest of the three peered around a tree to see a Dwarf sitting on a stump. The old man was dressed in brown leathers like a woodcutter. His head was lacking any hair, all of it has slid down to form a long beard, braided into neat rows. In place of a hairy dome there were Dwarven runes tattooed about his skull. He was whittling and, from the look of the shavings, had been doing so for quite a while.

   “It’s all right, little ones, I won’t hurt you. You can come out.”

   The three moved out into the clearing, hands, and legs still shaky from worry.

   A red squirrel ran up into the Dwarf’s lap, “A treat, little brother.” The man held out a small boca nut for the squirrel.

   “Now what are you three Halfling children doing in the forest?”

   “Hiding.”

   The Dwarf put his nose to the wind. “And best you are. Those are some nasty fellas that follow you.”

   The small girl said, “They chase us.”

   The middle child of the three asked, “Sir, are you the one who haunts this forest?”

   “Guards, not haunts.” His brother corrected him.

   The Dwarf chuckled, both beard and belly rolled with the laughter. “You might say I am both. I am Arastor Frostriver, Warden of the Spotted Woodlands.”

​