This is some of the rough draft of the novel I am working on. It is part of the preface. I'm not worried about misspellings or grammar. I'm just trying to write the damned book. I'm in the middle of Chapter two right now. Writing prose is very challenging. I haven't the foggiest idea of I'm any good, but I just want to write. I guess time will tell.
Anyways, here is some of the preface...
"The fetid stench of the cancer goblin's breath continued to assail Kelvin's senses. Despite the smell of his own vomit slowly oozing down his chest, and the overwhelming stench of the dead goblin's body that lay before him, Kelvin could focus on nothing but his memory of the foul creature's exhalation.
The elfin messenger was covered in his own blood, as well as the grey-ish ooze and guts that passed for goblin innards. He was still terrified, and the fear froze him where he sat against the base of the ancient Yok'sey tree. Kelvin was no warrior, by any stretch of the imagination. He delivered communiqué for the royal family, a job that was not supposed to be a dangerous profession.
Despite the fact he believed his stomach had to be empty from the numerous times that he had retched the previous night, Kelvin vomited all over himself yet again, and then promptly passed out.
He awoke in a panic, his slender arms and legs kicking and striking about in a vain attempt to fend off an enemy that was no longer assailing him. The smells of his own vomit, and the corpse of the cancer goblin basting in the heat of the afternoon sun wafted up his nose. Kelvin dry heaved uncontrollably.
The rush of memory from the previous night's battle flooded over him, and he found, via a strong sense of denial, the strength to crab walk backwards away from the dead body that lay at his feet. It was a clumsy, awkward crawl that ended abruptly after only some fifteen feet, when he stumbled over a large Yok'sey root. He lay on his side, panting loudly, and stared back at the result of his handywork from the night before.
The memory flooded over him with renewed intensity. As Kelvin had passed beneath the giant tree, the goblin had dropped out of the canopy intent on catching the messenger unawares. Only the faint rustle of leaves and a subtle moon shadow had alerted Kelvin to the pending attack, giving him but scant time to avoid being pounced upon. Clumsily, the boy back-stepped out of arms reach of the creature. The grey beast landed silently between Kelvin and the base of the tree.
Despite having never seen a cancer goblin, the young elf had recognized his assailant immediately. The goblins vanished over one thousand years ago, but Kelvin had seen the paintings depicting the Second Goblin War commissioned from his father for the royal Hall of Heroes. The goblin attacking Kelvin looked far less regal than those in the epic works of art. It was scrawnier, looking almost malnourished. At a head or so taller than the elf, however, it was just as terrifying as Kelvin had imagined as a child. It spat something in it gutteral language that surely had to be a most dire threat before drawing its rust-covered sword and advancing on the elfin messenger.
The elf looked about in alarm, searching for some way to escape the monster before him. Yok'sey trees stretched as far as he could see in every direction. He knew there was a river not too far away, but was positive he would never reach it if he started to run. Kelvin was certain he could neither outrun nor outclimb the goblin, so his options dwindled with frightening rapidity.
Kelvin had learned so much about the goblin race as a boy, and then even more as part of his requirements to become a Royal Messenger, but all he could remember at the moment, all his terrified young might could muster, was how savage and deadly they were, and how they preferred to keep their victims alive while the beasts devoured them.
Kelvin knew he was far too young and inexperienced to face this creature.
"All Mother," he prayed feverishly, "save me".
Sheepishly, he turned his attention to the goblin.
The creature's grey skin glistened in the light of the full moon. Its eyes glowed a faint orange that echoed the markings modeled across its body. Kelvin inexplicably found himself consumed by the beauty of the goblin's markings, mesmerizing by the smoldering embers of its large eyes. Were the marking pulsing in time with the goblin's eyes? Kelvin could consider nothing other than the rhythmic pulsing orange. His hand, which had instinctively taken hold of the ornate hilt of the small blade at his side, loosened, and absently released the handle.
Focused as he was, Kelvin was oblivious to anything but the slow fluctuation of the markings and eyes of the goblin. The creature slowly ran it's brown, wart-ridden tongue over its thin, upper lip and the shark-like teeth it covered. Pausing for a moment, it tilted its head ever so slightly to the right. Then it smiled. It was a frightening sight, as the joy it expressed was so alien and malignant that it was more of a dead thing than a celebration of accomplishment.
The goblin took a slow step forward and raised its large sword over the elf's head. Instinctively, absently, Kelvin took a small step back as well. His right heal caught on a protruding Yok'sey root, and the young elf lost his balance. As he tumbled backwards, his attention abruptly shifted from the all-encompassing orange to the beautiful full moon in the cloudless night sky, and the spell was broken.
Kelvin hit the ground hard, his breath forced out of his lungs, but managed to roll to his right as the goblin blade swung down toward him. There was a biting sting across his left arm just before the sword sank deep into the earth where he had initially landed.
The messenger righted himself desperately, striking out with his right foot, and landing a solid blow to the goblin's temple. Staggered by the kick, the monster released its weapon, and struck the trunk of the Yok'sey tree with so great an impact the mighty tree shook. Leaves lazily rained down upon them. Though remaining on its feet, the goblin slumped forward. To Kelvin, the moment felt unnaturally protracted. His heart hammering in his chest, and the goblin's breaths came in long, powerful gasps. With its right hand, the goblin took hold of its left arm, which Kelvin noticed now hung lifelessly at its side. Apparently, fortune had favored him, and the fiend's arm was badly wounded. Perhaps the goblin would now give up and flee into the woods. Kelvin was terrified. There was no way he could defeat a goblin, even a one-armed one."
I might share more as I go.
Thanks,
Chip