Chronicles of The Life-Taker, pt 7!

Hello out there, I hope everyone is doing well. Thanks much for being here, and I hope you find this email entertaining!

As for me, there’s always so many projects and just not enough time.

I finally reached a milestone in my comic-related endeavors, and I can happily announce that the artwork for my upcoming comic The Bill Collectors is officially done!

If you haven’t seen any of this stuff you can read about it and see a two-page special here by me and Leonardo Romanelli, the same artist as the upcoming comic.

I have to say, it’s kind of weird working with another artist on something.

Since I’m an artist myself I always have a vision of how the panels and story should play out.

Sometimes it’s shocking when a new page comes in and it looks abso-fraggin-lutely nothing like what I envisioned, lol.

Seeing how another artist interprets my words is frankly, fascinating.

There were also a couple of times where he suggested a different approach to what I had in the script.

When those times happened, I had to really think about how to proceed. Was his way better? If I kept my way was I being egotistical?

Usually he had some pretty good ideas, and I went with his suggestion. There was only one time I can remember where I had to tell him nah I need it drawn like so.

The bottom line was the story comes first, not my ego. Much easier said than done, trust me.

So that’s only one part of this thing done.

I still need to put in all the words yet and combine this thing into an actual comic.

This comic is in black and white, but if my budget allows I may find someone to color it in and make a “deluxe” version later on.

Very exciting times!

The Life-Taker continues…!

When last we were in the land of The Life-Taker, a certain ferryman had found himself in dire straits.

Who wants to bet on if he survives or not?

Here is Part 7 of Kurzhon's adventures (part 6 seen here).

CHAPTER 7

“Not horse, nor wagon, nor boat can deliver you from my wrath.”

~ Kurzhon the Life-Taker

* * *

The ferry tilted wildly back and forth after Kurzhon’s weight landed on it’s edge. Screams ripped through the air, crossing the water and reaching the shore, where many of the town’s onlookers had now just arrived to continue their gawking at the day’s events.

Wakely heard a shriek of terror and judged that it came from Lady Monidale’s Lady in Waiting, who had been thrown over the side when the Life-Taker landed on the ferry. The woman had been catapulted into the air and had landed harshly in the water, silencing her scream abruptly.

Gunther, having captained the ferry for decades, managed to keep his feet with the help of his pole, but he did not take his eyes off the large man now sharing the ferry with him.

He couldn’t. The large man’s dark skin, while covered in welts and scars from old battles, did not appear to have any new wounds.

Gunther cursed the useless guards of Whudhold. Apparently not one of them had managed to land a blow and soften the big man up. The only positive was the man had replaced his axe into his back scabbard to make the jump onto the ferry, and he had not drawn it yet.

“Good ferryman,” the large, dark man said, “do I have your permission to come aboard?”

The last was said in a growl, and Gunther’s heart leapt into his throat as the dark man surged forward, closing the distance between them much faster than Gunther would have believed possible.

With speed and strength borne of pure, distilled terror, Gunther swung his pole. The pole had served him well for almost ten years. It was solid oak that had been treated with resins to harden it further, the composition of which Gunther did not know or care. It had taken down many a ruffian, and he hoped it would take one more.

His hopes came to nothing.

The irresistible force of the hard oak wood met the immovable object of Kurzhon’s left forearm.

The pole shattered, breaking almost completely in two toward the top. It had been no match for dense, hardened bone that had been broken, healed, broken and healed over the course of a lifetime while enduring the harsh training of the Frozen Masters of Vultaika.

Shocked, Gunther reacted too late to prevent the large attacker from snatching the broken pole out of his hands and tossing it to the deck of the ferry.

Gunther, already more afraid than he had ever been, felt an impossible swelling of even more fear in his chest, and then he heard screaming.

He realized Lady Monidale had been screaming this entire time.

Then the big man reached for him. Gunther turned to run, planning to jump from the ferry, but he felt the hands grab him.

Gunther began to scream.

***

When Lady Monidale saw the big commoner man start breaking things on the ferryman she decided it was time to go.

She threw aside the smelly robe that had been given to her to hide her appearance, hiked up the skirts of her travel dress and jumped as far as she could into the water.

Lady Monidale was no stranger to swimming. She had been ready to fight the drag caused by her dress while swimming, but she was not prepared for the harsh cold of the lake water. The temperature shocked her and caused her to exhale prematurely under the water.

Spluttering, she fought her way to the surface. Air, sound and light seemed to crash down on her at once.

She greedily inhaled precious air, then saw that she was facing the ferry. The ferryman was screaming. The big man had already savagely pummeled the ferryman, now each blow seemed harder and more vicious than the last.

Then, he picked up the broken pole and began beating the already vanquished ferryman with it again and again.

Lady Monidale turned and began paddling out into the open water. She did not know if she could make it back to the other side of the lake, but it was obvious that she could not stay here.

As she paddled, there was an eruption from under the surface of the water off to her right. It was her Lady, Tumisa, and she was struggling to remain afloat.

“My —glurg!— Lady! Help me!!” Tumisa cried, before she went under again.

Lady Monidale kept paddling, not even slowing for a moment.

After another few strokes, Tumisa surfaced again.

“CANNOT! SWIM!!” she cried, “HELP ME!!”

Then Tumisa went under again. She did not reappear.

Help her? Lady Monidale knew she would do nothing of the sort!

Tumisa had grown up adjacent to the same court as her, surely she could not be blamed if the woman had neglected her swimming lessons.

With the intensity of the condemned, Lady Monidale continued her progress out into open water that looked to her as if it had no end.

***

On the ferry, Kurzhon used the broken pole and rained blow after thunderous blow down upon the nearly non-responsive Gunther.

With the indignity of the ferryman poking him with his wooden pole the previous day fresh in his mind, Kurzhon readied another volley of attacks, but then he heard a shrill voice carry over the water.

“—GETTING AWAY—!!!” the voice cried.

Again, Kurzhon found himself warned by Wakely the thief. Immediately, he took stock of his surroundings.

Besides himself and the pitiful ferryman, the ferry itself was empty. In the distance, he saw what the thief was screaming about.

A woman, who he assumed to be Lady Monidale, was swimming off into open water.

Kurzhon knew she could never swim the entire breadth of the lake, especially with her full dress on. He knew she would drown out there. A horrible death to be sure.

Just not horrible enough.

No, Kurzhon thought, no easy escapes, my Lady. Not from me.

With that thought, Kurzhon threw the bloody wooden pole into the water and took a step back from the defeated, broken ferryman, who mistook the action for mercy.

“P-please, my lord,” Gunther said, “please… no more…!”

The ferrymen held up a hand, or as much as he was able. He felt so much was broken inside of him now. He could barely make his limbs respond to his will.

Kurzhon’s attention returned to Gunther. His head snapped down and his teeth clenched.

“NO MORE?!” he shouted. “YOU’LL GET ONE MORE, FOOL!”

Then Kurzhon drew back his leg and put all the power he could muster into a kick that he thought even his horse would be proud of.

Gunther cried out in sharp agony as Kurzhon’s foot made contact with his side, then his cry changed from pain to one of alarm and panic as the force of the kick lifted him from the ferry and sent him sailing briefly into the air.

The ferryman hit the water hard, screaming the entire way. Within moments, he disappeared under the water.

Kurzhon waited the space of a few heartbeats, but the ferryman did not resurface.

Satisfied, he turned his head and trained his sight on the receding form of Lady Monidale. Her swimming was visibly slowing.

Kurzon smiled.

***

Lady Monidale was tired. So tired.

She did not think she had ever exerted herself so much in her entire life. Yet she still could not see the other side of the lake.

New levels of panic began to set in, as the very real, likely in fact, threat of drowning emerged.

The thought of turning back filled her mind, perhaps reasoning with the large man, offering him anything. Gold. Her hand in marriage. ANYTHING.

She looked back at the ferry. Fear struck her anew.

The big man was gone.

The ferry was empty, swaying in the water with no one to tend to it.

Lady Monidale hoped that the man had jumped in the water to swim back to shore, but something told her that was not the case.

A surge of energy flowed into her and she redoubled her efforts to swim to the other side of the lake.

Stroke after stroke, she determined that she would live. She was going to LIVE.

Then she felt something close around her ankle. It closed tightly. Painfully.

The burst of fear had barely touched her before she was dragged under.

***

Wakely and many of the crowd from the town had taken up a vigil on the shore, the better to see the action.

It had been a bit distant, but he had been able to make out most of it.

He had not cared about the brutal drubbing given to the ferryman. That old bastard had taken delight in denying him passage on many a night.

But when Lady Monidale’s companion had sunk under the water, Wakely had felt an icy hand grip his heart.

He knew that whatever jewels or valuables she’d had on her person were now gone.

Gone, he thought, gravely, why do bad things always happen to me?

After he had shouted at the big man again, he had been slightly mollified to see him jump into the water and go after her.

However, he could only hope against hope that the Lady… and all her valuables… would be brought back to the shore.

Wakely wrung his hands and bounced on the balls of his feet.

Come on! He thought. Come on! Come on! Come on!

The big man had to come up for air sometime. Even if he planned to drown Lady Monidale, he wasn’t planning to drown himself, right?

Where was he??

“The Drake has been sent for!!” someone shouted behind Wakely.

Shouts and exclamations went up in the crowd all around him.

Wakely felt a cold wash of fear at the thought of a Drake appearing, but surely he had time to get away.

First though, Wakely sidled over to the man who had shouted, fingers ready to appropriate whatever loose valuables were available.

Then he frowned, realizing he had already liberated anything of worth from that particular individual.

He was trying to decide whether he should wait or take his leave while he could, when there was a disturbance in the water.

“LOOK!” shouted a man who appeared to be some sort of cloth merchant. Different, garish colors of cloth draped from his arm as he pointed at the lake.

Wakely saw a form emerge from the water. A large, bulky form of a bald, muscular man. The man walked with no hint of concern or agitation, as if he had just crossed a stream, not just beaten a person to death and swam across a lake.

Somehow the large axe was still strapped to the man’s back, and he looked to be dragging something.

“Oh, praise Rhona!” shouted Wakely.

Lady Monidale’s bedraggled form became clear as she was pulled along by the scruff of her dress’s neckline.

Whatever weight the Lady had was clearly insignificant to her captor, as he dragged her along behind him without so much as a backward glance, sloshing through the shallow water with ease.

As he walked up onto the beach, Kurzhon dropped Lady Monidale onto the sand, eliciting a coughing, spluttering cry of pain.

Only then did Wakely realize she was alive.

“Oh, my Lady! Allow me to help you!” Wakely sprung forward and knelt beside the sopping wet noblewoman. His hands roamed her body with no regard for her privacy or well-being. She tried to push his hands away but was far too weak to do so.

No one was paying them any attention, as the crowd focused all of their attention on Kurzhon.

“The Drake is coming!” shouted someone in the gathered crowd at the beach. “You’d best be on your way!”

Barking laughter was his reply.

“Is that so?” laughed Kurzhon. He had pulled off his boots and was draining the water from them, curling his toes in the sand to dry them out.

“It is so!” shouted someone. Then more and more shouts came, screaming at him to move on. That the Drake would punish him.

Kurzhon, undeterred in even the slightest bit, put his boots back on, then stepped forward to face the sorry mob.

The shouts quieted immediately. No one met his eyes.

“Why wait for the Drake?” his voice boomed. “Surely there are enough of you to finish me yourselves!”

Wakely smirked, knowing the good, righteous people of Whudhold would not take it upon themselves to deny a Drake his opportunity to dispense justice.

Lady Monidale’s protestations had become stronger as she recovered from her plight, and she finally succeeded in pushing Wakely’s questing hands away from her.

It was too late though, Wakely had actually recovered the ruby brooch from around the half-drowned woman’s neck. He stood, smiling wildly, overcome with emotion.

He held up the ruby to the light.

My days of debt are over! He told himself.

He tucked the brooch away just before the Life-Taker reached him. The man had stomped over to him after cowing the entire crowd.

Without a word, he stepped past Wakely, then reached down and grabbed the back of Lady Monidale’s collar. Then he began walking back up toward the town, dragging her easily along as he walked.

Easily for him, anyway. Lady Monidale bounced harshly, her legs and feet becoming scraped and bruised as the sand of the beach gave way to the cobblestone pavement of the town center.

The woman yelped and squealed as she bounced across the ground. She grabbed onto Kurzhon’s hand with both of her own as if she might force it open, but even had she been at her best, she would not have possessed anywhere near the strength necessary to break that grip.

“It’s true, you know,” Wakely said, waking alongside Kurzhon. “They sent someone after a Drake. Apparently there was one here yesterday. If their rider catches him, he could be back by mid-day. We’d best be gone.”

Kurzhon did not look at Wakely as he replied.

“You can go wherever and whenever you wish, thief,” he said. “I’m hungry, and I’m not leaving until I’ve had my breakfast.”

Wakely thought about it, and decided he could use a bite. He was going to ride this bit of good fortune out for now.

Kurzhon, Wakely and a small procession of people made their way toward the Wudhold Inn. The bodies of the men he had killed were still in front of it.

Wakely could not help but notice that Lady Monidale exhibited no signs of distress at seeing the members of her retinue dead in the street as she was dragged roughly past their bodies.

Kicking open the front doors, Kurzhon and Wakely, along with an uncooperative Lady Monidale entered the Inn. The entire bottom floor of the Inn was a tavern, and there were a few waitstaff staring in terror and the larger murderer who had just burst into the room.

It was quiet for a long moment. No one spoke. All waited to see what Kurzhon would do next.

Finally, after some inner decision was reached, Kurzhon yanked Lady Monidale onto her feet and stood her before him.

“Now, my Lady,” he growled, it was obvious there was nothing but scorn in his voice as he spoke, towering over her.

“I desire breakfast, and you are going to make it for me.”

Wakely’s eyebrows darted up. He had not been expecting this.

Lady Monidale’s face also took on an expression of utter shock. Then Kurzhon spoke again.

“And if you want to live…”

Lady Monidale shrank back away from him.

“… I had best enjoy it.”

***

TO BE CONTINUED NEXT WEEK

Thanks for reading and make sure to let me know what you thought of Chapter 7 of Kurzhon’s adventures!