Genre: Fantasy Main Characters: 1) Male. Thief. Just stolen the signet ring of the King; 2) Male. Sheriff. Hunting down the Thief; 3)Female. Daughter of the King. Hunting down Thief. Challenge: Write at least a 500 word scene from this "novel". It can be anywhere (beginning, middle, end). Use at least two of the characters and interact.
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The birch twig crackled three times in the hearth, spitting glowing sparks into the air. An ill omen.
Tangred slowly straightened up, feeling his knees pop. The skin under his eye patch itched. The morning divination had not warmed him--another bad sign. The first frost had come and stayed, the snow chilling everything. Nothing warmed properly, not even the morning porridge. His small office in the corner of the parliament building was poorly insulated, the first to become stifling in the summer and the first to freeze in the winter. Just that reason alone made him reconsider his post.
A knock at the door made him pause as he walked to his scarred oak desk that had been shoved to the corner of the room for the Instrument that the alchemists from the Royal Academy had insisted on stashing in his office. He called out for the person to enter.
A woman stood on the threshold when the door opened. The first thing Tangred noticed was her paleness and her red mouth. She wore a velvet green overcoat that made her eyes glimmer and her dark hair was pinned underneath a matching wide-brimmed hat with dyed plumes. He recognized her, Lady Fanlen, a close advisor to the king and the daughter of a supposed witch. It was rumored that she was also the king's bastard. Tangred could see that--her straight aquiline nose and high cheekbones mirrored that of the monarch.
"My lady, what brings you to my humble office?" Slowly, he made his way back so that the Instrument stood between them.
Fanlen's mouth curved ever so slightly in amusement. "My dear Sheriff, I have a job for you on behalf of the king. I am sure that it will bring you out of your boredom. It concerns a certain signet ring that was in his possession."
"Was?"
"It was stolen from him. We are pretty sure the culprit is a man named Gillon. I want you to help me track him."
He shivered, not from the cold. "You ask much of me, my lady. That man is too dangerous to be handled by myself, let alone a dabbling diviner."
"You knew Gillon, did you not?"
"Knew is perhaps too tepid a word. I knew him from the university. He claimed to be a friend. And then he took my eye."
Fanlen cocked her head and then stepped close enough to touch the Instrument. "You're angry. I can see it since you are coloring. But it is a subtle thing. An ordinary observer would not be able to tell." She smiled as if she could see something else. "Perhaps the king was right to insist upon you."
"I think he is wrong."
"You really don't have the authority to dispute his majesty's word," she replied. She reached out to touch the top of his hand. Her fingers were remarkably warm despite her pallor. "We do not have any time to lose. The more we speak, the further the thief's trail will be."
Tangred didn't like her look. Her eyes were intense as if she was trying to mesmerize him. "I have other responsibilities as well--like this Instrument."
She gave a small laugh. "Those absent-minded alchemists won't know if you're gone a day or two. Come, the carriage is awaiting us."
As he went to get his coat, he wondered how she even knew that the Instrument belonged to the alchemists.
Note: The characters and setting from the writing exercise above have nothing to do with the project I'm planning for this year's Nano.
