Novel November Day 1 Excerpt

Good morning everyone!  I am 3,000 words in on Novel November!  As promised, here is an excerpt from my work today so far.  If you want to see the 3 chapters, become a Patron!  Enjoy!

The village was long behind them as the sun began to rise.  Gryr was exhausted, his feet barely lifting as he tried to keep pace with Taybus.  Their overnight escape was quiet, worn down paths and roads were rarely traversed by Jarl Belrot’s men.  They were more focused on extortion and woman than public safety.  

The final village under Jarl Belrot’s purview was coming into focus as the sun swallowed the darkness during its rise.  Relief rushed through Gryr as the idea of resting played in his mind.

“Don’t get any ideas.  We keep pressing on.” Taybus barked through painful steps.

Defeat quickly evaporated any hope Gryr had of resting his blistered feet.

“Master…we have been going all night-”

“Quit the complaining.  You are almost a man now, your thirteenth year is upon us, act like it and use your head.”  Taybus stopped walking and turned to face his apprentice. His imposing stature covered in black from the rising sun behind him.  “We murdered three of the Jarl’s men, one of which was a captain. The bodies will be found, and when that happens, do you want to be resting in Belrot’s lands?”

“But you have a flicker, you can defend us.”  Gryr wasn’t going to lose the conversation, he ignored the gravity of the possible repercussions. 

Taybus groaned as he knelt to Gryr’s level, his legs just as sore as his young apprentices.  Their eyes met as the master blacksmith’s eyes flashed black. His hands blackened in an instant, rotting death taking over his rough callused hands.  Gryr’s eyes were wide in amazement, a small amount of fear kept him from grabbing his master’s hands.

“Flicker doesn’t make you invincible boy.”  Taybus flexed his hands watching the peeling skin stretch tight.  “You’re flickerless, I can understand the naivety, but this is a curse.  The more that is used, the more that you succumb to the rune that bestows the magic upon you.”  Taybus stood, beginning his march. “I will not search for trouble just because I have a flicker.  Let’s go, Trolingstad is still a day’s walk away.”

Jarl Belrot’s final village was quiet as the two approached its central well.  The early morning mist still hadn’t left its suction on the paths between the wooden buildings.  A drunkard was slouched outside what looked to be the tavern, his vomit creating a makeshift pillow for the man.  The land reaked of poverty and despair. Women stumbled out of side doors, coughing flem and spit onto the ground as they readied for the next man.  Gryr never had the easiest life, but he was fortunate enough to never experience the charm this village held. Taybus took notice of Gryr’s wandering eyes.

“They didn’t choose this life.  Rektra suffers this poverty because of its location.”  Taybus filled their waterskins as he spoke. “To the north, Hollow’s Wood, was erected as a midway point between Trolingstad and Hekta.  It quickly grew as the prominent trading post and central hub for all travelers going in between Jarl Belrot’s and Jarl Roth’s capitals. Rektra quickly became forgotten and those stuck here soon found themselves without coin to travel.”

Gryr listened as he took in his surroundings.  There were no guards, no one to bring order or enforcement.  The buildings were decrepit, barely held together by leather straps and hastily carved wood.