Chronicles of The Life-Taker, pt 4!

Greetings from Middle Earth! er, America, I mean. I hope everyone out there is doing well.

As for me, I’m at that stage of the game where no projects are close to the finish line, so they won’t be out for awhile. It’s both exciting and frustrating as you want things to be done NOW, and yet good things take time to do well.

For one, I’ve got the artist for The Bill Collectors comic book slaving away on the back half of the upcoming 36 page special, so nobody will be seeing or hearing from him for at least another month!

TIKTOK BOOK TRAILER

I keep reading about how the TikTok #Booktok hashtag crowd is making sales and just getting their work seen by a lot more people than on other social media sites.

So I started making up some short videos to post on there and I’ll show the first one here in this email.

When The Life-Taker novel first came out, I hired a voice actor to voice Kurzhon’s “philosophy/manifesto”, and I loved his voice!

So when I decided on doing the TikTok videos I went back to him and hired him again to voice even more work for me. Again I think his work was perfect for The Life-Taker.

This first video is trimmed down to make it TikTok length (it might even be a little too long yet), but I liked the finished product. Check this out:

So I’m in the process of making a bunch more short videos like this to post on TikTok… I’ll report success or failure in a later email.

Now for the main event, Part 4, the continuation of Kurzhon's non-novelized adventures (part 3 seen here).

CHAPTER 4

“If it take a thousand years, I will have my vengeance.”

~ Kurzhon the Life-Taker

* * *

Kurzhon rode through the dense trees and narrow trail of the Whynnag forest. His speed was not ideal for traveling such conditions on horseback, and at night no less.

Yet, the slight he had suffered at the hands of the ferryman and his Noble passengers could not be allowed to pass unanswered.

He knew that if he waited even a day, those who had insulted him would slip away. They would disappear to their places of comfort, where they would re-tell the stories of how they had laughed at Kurzhon The Life-Taker and lived.

Even as his surefooted horse galloped at breakneck speed, Kurzhon knew the objects of his fury likely had no idea who he was.

But they will learn, he thought, eyes burning and face tightened up into a hideous grin.

Behind him, riding slightly less assuredly, was another man.

This man was Wakely O’Cantor, and though he was most definitely a thief, he never thought of himself as a bad man.

He merely relieved people of possessions they no longer cared for.

After all, if they wanted the items that much, surely they would not leave them lying about for one such as him to appropriate.

Although, if he was being honest (and a frantic nighttime ride through uncertain trails was definitely the time to be honest), sometimes the things he liberated weren’t exactly lying around.

Either way, Wakely knew himself to be a man of peace, and not given easily to violence.

Thus, had he seen the look of pure, distilled violence that was currently on Kurzhon’s face, he may have slowed his horse, or even turned completely around.

But he did not see it, and so traveled on with the large, dark-skinned stranger. In Wakely’s mind, the promise of the exorbitant jewelry he had seen in the possession of the Nobles on the ferry was more than enough to warrant a little discomfort.

As they rode, Wakely understood that he was not so much riding, as being carried along.

The big man’s horse rode without hesitation and somehow navigated the trail even when it had been almost completely overgrown.

Wakely knew his horse was just following the leader. There was only one moon out this night and a sliver of that one as it was. He did not have confidence his ability to travel this path alone and in the dark.

Finally, after a long, increasingly anxious ride that Wakely thought must have been half the night, the two riders burst from the forest and out into open air. The clear water of the lake was now to the west of them, with muddy grasslands receding into the distance to the east.

Kurzhon slowed his horse and jumped off, leading the animal to the water’s edge, where it drank greedily.

“We water our horses, then we continue!” Kurzhon barked, his back to Wakely as he spoke. The big man retrieved some utensils from his saddlebags and began rubbing and brushing his horse.

Wakely dismounted his horse, nowhere near as surefooted as his companion. His knees buckled as he hit the ground, but he managed to quickly right himself.

“Surely we could camp here for the night, friend?” Wakely asked, hoping the words did not come out sounding like the desperate plea they really were.

“No, thief, we ride until morning,” said Kurzhon.

Wakely’s horse had walked over to the water’s edge to drink without being led, so Wakely stepped over to the large man.

“Perhaps we should introduce ourselves? That way you don’t have to call me thief, and I don’t have to call you large intimidating man? My name is Wakely. Wakely O’Cantor of Munberry.”

Wakely extended his hand in greeting, but the large man did not even turn around to face him, he merely continued brushing down his horse.

“Oh, come now!” shouted Wakely. “Surely there’s no harm in exchanging names?”

The big man stopped his brushing. He turned around to face Wakely, and suddenly the thief regretted having forced this exchange.

Although it was dark, there was enough of the paltry moonlight reflected off the water that Wakely could see the cold, hard eyes of the other man focused on him. He felt then that it was not a good thing to have this man focus his attention on you.

The large man spoke then.

“I am Kurzhon. Called The Life-Taker. Of Vultaika.”

Then he spoke no more, but simply watched Wakely, waiting for the repercussions of this knowledge to sink in.

It hit hard. Wakely swallowed and took a step back.

Here was a man before him out of legend. A supposedly un-killable nightmare spawned from the depths of fallen Vultaika, perhaps the most despised nation in history.

Much of the recent tragedy that befell the nations of Straifus had been laid at the feet of this man. The Life-Taker.

Wakely, like most, had heard of him, but never had he thought to meet the man, or be standing with him… alone… in the middle of nowhere.

Kurzhon smiled then. Wakely swallowed again.

“I ride until morning, thief,” Kurzhon said, and his voice was low, rumbling like soft thunder.

Kurzhon turned his back then, and began preparing his horse to move.

“You can come along or stay here, I care not a rabbit-shit either way.”

Then Kurzhon launched himself into his saddle and gave a command to his horse, which bolted away, keeping to the shoreline of the lake.

Wakely felt immense relief when Kurzhon rode away. He had been traveling this whole time with the nightmare-man of all of Straifus. He could have been killed!

But he hadn’t been.

In fact, this “Life-Taker” appeared indifferent to him, to say the least. Maybe the stories weren’t all true?

Then Wakely thought of all the spoils to be had. Left to his own devices, he knew he could have procured some of the items he had seen.

But with the Life-Taker’s assistance, maybe he could get it all.

He had debts to pay, and there were some major cities that were now off-limits to him until he had paid what was owed.

What he had seen on the ferry earlier would cover those debts and then some.

Wakely was not a violent man, but he was a greedy one.

Scrambling, he mounted his horse, then set off after the Life-Taker at an all-out gallop.

* * *

After a hard night’s ride Kurzhon arrived just outside of the town of Whudhold.

He paused on a small hill that looked over the middling town. The path here was much wider, and properly maintained. It led down to the eastern gate of Whudhold, where Kurzhon could see two guards inspecting those looking to enter.

The morning sun had been up for a short while, and Kurzhon was concerned that his prey had taken a carriage out of town. If they had left at dawn, they could have headed north or west, and he might have missed them already. He would find out shortly.

There was a good deal of foot traffic here. Far more than he had expected. He could see a fair sized line forming at the gate.

He was about to ride down when he heard hoofbeats behind him. He recognized the pattern of the horse’s gait and so was not alarmed as the rider grew closer.

“It’s about time, thief, I’ve been here too long” Kurzhon said, in what passed as friendly for him. He was in a good mood since he was so close to the promise of vengeance.

Wakely rode up beside him and halted his horse.

“What kind of horse do you have, man?!” Wakely blurted out. “My poor steed had to have a little rest!” Wakely rubbed his horse’s neck and head as he spoke.

Kurzhon laughed. “My animal comes from the deepest horse pits of Vultaika. Much is expected of such a mount.”

Horse pits? Wakely thought. He was about to ask, and then decided he didn’t want to know.

“Regardless,” he said, “we are here at long last. So what now?”

“What now?” Kurzhon repeated, and Kurzhon could hear the incredulity his voice.

He turned to look at Wakely, and Wakely lowered his eyes when he saw the fire in them.

“Now, thief… it is time for the slaughter.”

Wakely swallowed as the big man spurred his horse and galloped down the trail to Whudhold.

TO BE CONTINUED NEXT WEEK

Thanks for reading and make sure to let me know what you thought of Chapter 4, I read all responses!