Malessar's Curse - First Chapter

[chopper]

This is how the first draft of the first chapter starts. Is this something you'd like to read more of? Is the first sentence different enough? Do you need more detail about Cassia, her father, and the town of Keskor straight away, or are you happy to let the story unfold through (as is the plan) Cassia's eyes?

“Just make sure you feed that bloody mule!”

Cassia’s father aimed his leather purse at her with painful precision, and it smacked into her cheek before she could raise her free hand to catch it, spinning over her shoulder to land on the ground behind her.

She knew better than to protest, however much her cheek smarted: Norrow’s rages were like the thunderstorms that swept through the upper valleys of the long mountain ranges that loomed over the land - torrential and violent, but also quite often random and short-lived. If she stayed quiet, did as he said, and stayed out of his sight until the end of the evening, her father would most likely have forgotten that he had even lost his temper.

Cassia sighed under her breath as she watched him cross the muddy street and shove his way past a pair of ale-soaked old men who were propping each other up outside a narrow, curtained doorway just inside the alley that led to one of the town’s many bakeries. With that mood hanging over him, he would likely be in the middle of a brawl within the hour, she thought sourly. And who would have to come to pay for the damages?

She turned awkwardly, and reached down for the purse, and the mule chose that moment to tug in entirely the wrong direction, pulling her feet from under her so that she collapsed in a heap in the street.

She lost her grip on the tattered rope tied to its bridle, and the mule trotted purposefully down the street towards the market square while Cassia sprawled in the dirt to the clear amusement of passers-by.

“Come back here, you mangy beast!” she shouted angrily, clambering back to her feet and pausing only to pick up the purse before chasing the mule down the street, her ears burning with embarrassment. The mule paid her no mind, intent on the seductive aromas wafting down from Keskor’s market square.

She caught up with it just before it entered the square itself, impeded at the last by a small gaggle of children who were poking it with sticks and prodding the roughly tied bundles that hung from the animal’s back. Cassia had to snatch up the bridle rope and fend off the overly inquisitive children at the same time, venting her frustration by landing a few satisfying slaps until the brats finally ran off. A few of the more daring ones flung curses and pebbles at her, but she’d had enough now, and she wasn’t about to let the stupid mule get away from her again.

Wrapping the rope firmly around her wrist, she remembered her father’s shouted instructions and looked inside the purse to see what he had left her. Two coins, she saw in dismay, and not enough to buy oats for both herself and the mule. The rest was, like as not, aleady in the grubby apron of one of the backstreet barkeeps.

One of us will be going hungry tonight, she thought. And if I had my way, it wouldn’t be me. It’s not like you can tell him that I didn’t feed you.

But somehow Norrow had a way of knowing these things, and Cassia couldn’t hide the truth from him for very long. The mule would have a bag of fresh oats while Cassia would have to improvise and take a few risks.

Again.

She tucked the purse into the pocket sewn on the inside of her sleeve and ran her free hand through her hair, wincing as her fingers found the knots. Too long now, and too wavy: if she could find a mirror, or even a still pool of water, she’d take her knife to it and hack a good foot and a half off, she decided. Perhaps there would be time later tonight, once her father returned, if the sky stayed clear and the moon was bright enough.

Cassia tugged the mule - suddenly recalcitrant and contrary - around the edge of the town’s market, recalling its layout from their last visit a few months previously and heading for a clear area on the far side of the square where the stallholders rarely pitched up.

The reason was obvious enough: a high brick wall, pitted and scarred enough that it provided an easy climb to the flat stones at the top, was the backdrop to the town’s gibbet. Currently unoccupied, the stained old wooden frame loomed ominously over the north-western corner of the market, waiting, watching, and warning…

It helped to keep the traders honest, Cassia supposed. A man was hardly likely to play games with weights while Keskor’s gibbet sat at the edge of his vision.


And there we have it. More when I can, but this is the first time I've tackled the first chapter, having worked backwards all month....

[Zubi-Ondo]

Hi Chopper - It's been awhile since I've ducked into the critiques. As always in my opinion, your style is interesting, engaging, and otherwise fun to read. I didn't even see any typo's that jumped out at me. Two things - 1) Is this part of that story you were posting before Christmas? It seems like it has a different tone somehow. 2) The one thing about this intro (The opening chapter, is it?) that might be missing is the hint of a conflict. They always say that there should be some kind of conflict/resolution thing going on in each chapter, but maybe you chose not to do that. Cheers!

- Z.

[chopper]

Hello z
good to see you back in the chrons!

yep, its a completely different tale - the other one lost yet another wheel and even now stands on blocks in the garage....this one feels a lot fresher and i have good feelings about it.
its also a bit of a bugger, plot-wise, in that if i leave Cassia's POV at any point i risk giving the twists away, so the entire story has to be told from within her viewpoint. which in turn means its neccessary to spend a little time introducing her first before any kind of conflict. you could say that the first chapter has an implicit conflict between Cassia and her father, who has never been happy about the fact that he had adaughter, not a son. it also helps set the scene for her decision to take up with Baum and Meredith (who? maybe later...) shortly....

s

[svalbard]

Let the story unfold, chopper. You have an easy style that carries the reader along. So let the action happen it is needed. The world seems like an inhospitable place, but isn't that always the case for people like Cassia.