Category Archives: The Creative Process

Messages to myself about how to navigate impediments which hinder the creative flow in hopes my answers may be a beacon to others.

Jasmine Snippet #87

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Notes for The Story of Jasmine continue:

Ahearn was uneasy. All morning Rogan had monopolized Jasmine’s attention, thwarting his intentions on several counts. First, he wanted to ride closer to Jasmine, more towards the front of the caravan. He had not expected the group to act so jovial. It made it harder on his conscience to carry out his devious plan. Jasmine was usually walled up inside that cloak of hers. It was going to be so easy. Just grab the reins of her horse and they’d be out of there before the ambush commenced. He smirked at the thought that their last memories of him would be in gratitude that he successfully rescued Jasmine from their fate.

The hawk spotted something. They had not yet arrived at the ambush site, which was nearby. Ahearn felt excitement. The trap was nearly ready to be sprung, but for that damned bird.

The hawk’s piercing screams were answered by another more disturbing call, which sounded like a cross between a crocodile and a lion’s roar. Everyone surged ahead to try to see what was happening.

When he caught a glimpse of it, Glynn shouted an alarm. It was Gryth, the creature Jasmine spoke about only last night. “Beware!” He shouted, “Bardulf’s soldiers are nearby! Ride ahead to the opening in the trees. Well make our stand there.” At Glynn’s urging, everyone charged ahead.

Ahearn was stunned. This was a possibility he had not planned for. They were riding at top speed towards the ambush site. This was all wrong. The cannibals are apt to believe he double-crossed them. At first, he just intended to slow things down by getting in front of everyone. Then, damned if he didn’t sense the vibration of earth being pounded by hooves behind them! He charged past Rogan, almost knocking Rogan and his horse into the brush.

Glynn arrived at the point where the road opened up into an incredible vista with a blue sky. The sun nearly blinded everyone who emerged from the thicket. When Glynn reached this place, he was dismounting to find a place among the rocks and shouted instructions for Jasmine to find a hiding place as well.

Before Jasmine could respond, they heard the blood-curdling cries of two creatures locked in mortal combat and Thorne screaming from behind, the name of her pet.

© 2018 DARLENE

I AM A FAN of “THE STORY OF JASMINE”

Jasmine Snippet #86

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Notes for The Story of Jasmine continue:

Bardulf was now ready. He took the restraints off of Gryth’s leg. He looked Gryth straight in the eye and visualized the Ring of Emeth, very clearing in his head. “Go find.” Bardulf bid as he launched Gryth up in the air. Through the Crystal Ball, Bardulf reassured Gryth that he was to finally go search for the ring.

Earlier, Bardulf dispatched some troops to the White Throne mountain, hoping to garner more information. When his men discovered two of the best horses missing, he’d ordered a few men to follow the road to catch up with and punish the horse thieves. At this late hour, he enlisted the aid of more nearby troops to follow behind.

Swartzborg was east and south of UR. It would take some time for Gryth to reach UR, and longer yet to reach Oxted. He did not know the creature’s endurance. He let Gryth stop to take rests if he couldn’t find an updraft to float upon. If Gryth followed the ring, it was in a general north westernly direction. Bardulf did not let him take the straightest course.

He wanted his men to follow Gryth as his backup. So he steered Gryth to stay near the main roads, and close to areas and land marks familiar to Bardulf or on the maps he was consulting. Gryth followed the usual westward route. Bardulf aimed to intercept his handful of men who had been ordered to apprehend some thieves. Those men were the closest in proximity to his ultimate target.

His men had traveled most of the way through the stretch of the great plains when Gryth caught up with them. A young Lieutenant Bondfeld was in charge of those men. It was a point of pride for Lt. Bondfeld to notice everything around him, at all times. On this day, his keen observations were rewarded. He recognized Bardulf’s pet and stayed his men from raising their weapons.

The Lieutenant looked up and addressed the creature. “G-G-Grit, you are called?” he asked. As Bardulf directed Gryth to move toward the Lieutenant, a gurgling sound came from the throat of the beast. Gryth dropped a weighted parchment down to him.

To unroll the parchment, the Lieutenant had to break the thick wax seal of Bardulf, the High Reigning Lord King himself! His orders were to abandon their present pursuit and simply follow the dragon-lizard until it stopped — no matter where it lead them.”

The Lieutenant nodded as he read further, “When the little dragon stops by certain people and does not move on, immediately apprehend those people, keep the one with the ring alive.” When the Lieutenant completed the message, he saluted the dragon, then made ready to carry out his new orders.

Bardulf’s message also informed the Lieutenant that Gryth was his eyes. Bardulf could see everything through the eyes of the little dragon and now he looked directly upon the Lieutenant as he read that very message and could also see his men. The Lieutenant was bright, inquisitive, practical, and very rattled.

Following a dragon-lizard was at least different. His men easily fell into the change of routine. They were encouraged through good humor. Lt. Bondfeld wore his most serious face and his mannerisms became more formal. Given his seriousness, his men became doubly amused to have witnessed the absurdity of their superior saluting a lizard.

I AM A FAN of “THE STORY OF JASMINE”

Jasmine Snippet #85

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Notes for The Story of Jasmine continue:

In the wee hours of the morning, Ahearn had been first to arrive back at the forest camp. After a few words with Glynn, Ahearn settled in with his horse, using his saddle for a backrest. Rogan arrived just before dawn and pretty much did the same. Glynn did not see any need to break camp before the return of the warrior maiden. He was sure she would show up, eventually. He was prepared to wait the whole next day, if necessary. He felt better if they did not move.

Glynn decided not to worry about the sudden appearance of any flying dragon lizard. Like many creatures, the louder someone is, the more they are bluffing. Unless it could spit fire or sting, the most it could do was to bite and claw. Glynn was positive a well-aimed arrow could stop it mid-flight.

When Thorne finally arrived in the early morning, she brought with her a loud surprise. The camp was treated to the piercing sounds of a hawk. Woken from the deep slumber, confused, Glynn allowed himself, he immediately fumbled for his weapon. He looked for a small dragon but only saw a large bird. When he was finally able to collect his wits about him, Glynn saw Thorne in the company of a large hawk.

“I helped to raise this proud, beautiful majestic bird.” she said, petting the bird’s breast feathers with the side of her index finger, “Gavin will help us navigate what’s ahead in the deep dark forest, won’t you, Gavin?” Jasmine was delighted, Glynn, interested. Rogan showed mild surprise and Ahearn, consternation.

However, by the time everyone was underway, they left more jovial. That’s because Thorne had another surprise up her sleeve. She remembered to replenish food stuffs for the group and, uncharacteristically, did something Rogan thought was impossible. She made breakfast of her own accord. Nobody, save Rogan, had tasted anything like the unexpected treat of Armildian cooking.

The dishes used sharp spices cooked with exotic-tasting, colorful fruits, nuts and bread. It was also nourishing, completely satisfying and delicious. Suddenly the morning’s usual start changed into a more optimistic adventure. Thorne was amazed at how well food always contributed so quickly towards feelings of comradrie. Using food was a trick Thorne learned to use if she wanted to gain control and advantage in small group situations.

For the first forty minutes, Rogan spoke exclusively to Jasmine, giving her a taste of his full court treatment. Glynn rolled his eyes, but Jasmine seemed to enjoy the talk. Thorne felt a chill as she watched Rogan lavish such courtly language and admiring attention upon the lass. Thorne became so intent on listening to his conversation, she nearly forgot to launch Gavin.

© 2018 DARLENE

I AM A FAN of “THE STORY OF JASMINE”

The Energy Leads to JASMINE

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“Follow The Energy,” and “Pay Attention from where the Energy Flows”

This week, I followed that advice and I received a surprise. It’s a surprise because its so obvious when you think about it, but totally invisible to me on the level I was working.

I followed the energy to another vantage point, a part of my past — to a 38-year old saga called “The Story of Jasmine.”  I recently discovered a box I had long neglected. When I opened the box, I discovered it was filled with notes for the continuation of my Jasmine story originally published in 1980. The box contained a pile of hand-written notes and scraps of writing, some loose and some in notebooks — everything that did not see the light of day from long before.

The Story of Jasmine is about the young Princess of UR who jumped headlong into her destiny. She is accompanied by a dwarf, her devoted protector. The plot revolves around a ring that the dark prince Bardulf, her father’s enemy from a neighboring territory, managed to place on her finger, hoping to keep the princess spell bound. Through magical means, Bardulf succeeded in taking down the Kingdom of UR, but the princess escapes his clutches.

J is for JASMINE

A fugitive, the Princess of UR willingly leaves her prior life behind and accepts her destiny as a Lady in White, thus becoming Jasmine. The title refers to the highest and most revered one within the ancient Order of the White Flower. However, that Order has not existed for hundreds of years. Jasmine wonders if her new identity is beyond her depths.

Jasmine needs to fully integrate the new concentration of power she feels growing within her entire being while also being present to the daily dangers that seek to destroy her. Jasmine needs to fully integrate the new power she feels growing within her being and also be present to the daily dangers that seek to destroy her.

Besides the dwarf, her other traveling companions — a battle-maiden, a royal dark elf, and a spy for the deadly Fire Queen — have vowed to protect Jasmine, for secret reasons of their own.

Beginnings

At the end of January of this year (2018), I decided to publish each little scrap of writing I found within the old box, one snippet a day. As of May 6th, I’m up to my 85th Snippet. At the moment, it’s becoming more of a collaboration between myself and my younger self. It’s necessary, because there are a lot of holes, like missing dialog / action / explanations needing to be filled in. So Jasmine is both old and new.

I could have sworn that I was going after a market that appreciates my Powerful Women’s Coloring book. That may still be the case, but a desired connection was unexpectedly paused and I found myself returning to the Jasmine story, again and again. Since I had to actually input in text daily, I became more and more focused on the story. I was giving it the energy of my attention.

Fans

So it was in the back of my mind when I was learning the technical aspects behind the various methods there are to collect friendly e-mail addresses. I decided to experiment with Jasmine. Now, after I publish each snippet, I have a place where people can become “A Fan of Jasmine.” It not that difficult to do and I was curious if a passive opt-In would work.

And damned if I didn’t get some responses! I have fans! Who knew? And my fans are willing to help me put Jasmine out there in the public eye! Wow! There is energy here! They’re pointing out to me how close to a ready-made book product I actually have! Why did this never occur to me before? That’s so astounding. I was so close to it, I could not see. Ohhhhh, that’s what they mean when they say, one “cannot see the forest for the trees…!”

[Ha ha ha…So now, I should start thinking in terms of offering some JASMINE swag.]

Why?

Would it be putting on the brakes to examine this a little more — or do I just enjoy the energy while it lasts? Or is concentration and focusing the entire point? Energy begets energy. If I stop myself to ask questions, will I lessen the energy in the act of doing so? If movement slows, one apt to believe “it was just not meant to be.” This reminds me that we are always in control. We are the authors of our own life.

Why Jasmine? Is Jasmine relevant today? Who knows? Maybe there’s something in there for someone who needs to hear a story with a younger voice. Maybe the archetypes will resonate with a newer generation. Maybe the story needed to season in order to flourish.

This older / younger collaboration with myself is a tad strange, but fascinating. It’s like personal archaeology, uncovering treasures through the eyes, perspective, and writing of a young woman. The plot and basic story line already originated in the 1980s. I’m adding depth to the characters and adding description where suitable. The energy is definitely there!

History

Once upon a time, 12 Installments of The Story of Jasmine Illustrated Fantasy Adventure were published in The Dragon magazine, once a month for a year, beginning in May of 1980.

When the contract was not renewed, the story continued in my mind and it morphed into an interactive card game. I divided the characters into four factions and “JASMINE: The Battle for the Mid-Realm” collector card game, became the result of that. It actually gave me the excuse to create 112-miniature paintings. My card game won a Strategists Award in 1982 for the Best New Game.

From my many moves hinder and yon, I held onto many things. Some may say, too many things. But I think the box I found of Jasmine writing might end up being a great and rare treasure.

I still retain some of my original stock of card games… I also have a manuscript, fans, art and the creative desire. So everything is looking good and I’m feeling pretty good too!

Jasmine is like a care package gifted to me by my younger self.

Become a Fan of Jasmine

Become a Patron of Jasmine

For anyone who wants to read the story from the beginning of the snippets, they are archived under the Categories of “Jasmine and Role-Playing Games” and “The Creative Process.” 

Just Look to the column on the right, you can find them in the CATEGORIES drop down menu. 

Jasmine Snippet #84

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Notes for The Story of Jasmine continue:

Solshigtr turned his attention to two older people and a woman his age and conferred with them. Solshigtr resumed his composure and walked towards Ahearn. Ahearn was considered tall, but the Witchleins were more than a foot taller. The chieftain towered above him. Looking down upon Ahearn, Solshigtr spoke, “How will you save our lives?”

Ahearn said one word, and so very softly so that only the chieftain could hear him. He spoke that word gingerly, as if uttering it revealed a great and awe-encompassing truth. “Magic.” He said as he let the word linger on his lips.

Ahearn followed his hushed utterance with a louder pronouncement, “It is your own fault if you get hurt by the dwarf or anyone else with weapons. But you have no defense against the magic of the maiden.” He lingered on the word, “magic.” The Witchleins stirred uneasily. They did not like what they heard and disagreed. They did not belief the maiden was capable of magic.

Ahearn quieted them after he reminded them the maiden carried a powerful staff. No one could argue the truth of that statement. Since a female held it, they had not focused upon the possible purpose behind her control of the staff. It seemed to them, Ahearn might have a point.

“Alright, what is your bargain? Solshigtr asked at last.

“Yes!” Ahearn congratulated himself, letting out a small sigh of relief. In that moment, Ahearn achieved success. He became a person to these tribesmen. For all that, he merely bargained safe passage for himself and the “magic  maiden” while the rest were left to fend for themselves.

“So we feast on the bones of your companions, while you and the female go free?”

Ahearn nodded grimly. “They are not persons to me.”

Satisfied, a time and place for the ambush was set. Not surprizingly, they chose their usual ambush place, a large cleared, inviting spot, near the location of sacred land on the other side of a gully connected by an old bridge. The main road continued onward past the bridge. The site happened to be a little more than an hour further up the road from where they stopped for the night. In fact, the Witchleins expected the party of travelers to have made it all the way to their ambush site that night.

The cannibals carefully kept the road trimmed with thorny bushes and brambles. They were massively disappointed when Jasmine’s party decided to travel no further and set up camp where they stood. This was unexpected. The Wichtleins could not conceive of anyone camping in the middle of the road. Attacking during the day was never their preference. Mid-night attacks were so much more effective to carry out, and much easier — especially when their victims were asleep.   

After striking his bargain, the Dark Elf returned to where Jasmine and Glynn rested for the night. Once he settled in, he slept so soundly, he scarcely heard Rogan arrive.

© 2018 DARLENE

I AM A FAN of “THE STORY OF JASMINE”

Jasmine Snippet #83

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Notes continue for The Story of Jasmine:

As soon as Ahearn excused himself from camp, he headed straight toward the Lair of the Wichtleins, a disturbing tribe of people who were not above cannibalism. Ahearn had encountered tribes like this before in this primordial forest, when he traveled with his brother, Aiden (it seemed) ages ago. Through Aiden, he knew a lot about what to expect. His brother told him the Wichtlein tribes exercised a strict code of conduct and were comprised of three or four extended families.

Ahearn was fortunate to remember what those tribes loved and what they feared. Wichtleins loved to trade. Deep down, they were all mercenaries. Ahearn needed to think of something they were willing to trade for. If he had something they wanted, they’d fall in and act as any other merchants would and barter.

His brother Aiden was the first to negotiate a deal with the Wichtlein clans on behalf of the Dockalfarians. It happened in the northern part of this dark forest. In exchange for sacks of thick wine fermented from the fruit of a koaklula tree, Aiden bade them collect information. Essentially, the ever-curious Witchleins were recruited as spies. That’s how The Dockalfarians received every scrap of news, including what was happening in neighboring lands.

Once Ahearn was shuffled in front of the chieftain, the chieftain spoke, “I do not have a contract with you. You are not a person to me.” The Wichtlein code had a litany of phrases and formal declarations they would go through, always ending with “… You are not a person…” Aiden advised never to wait until after the recitation ended.

So Ahearn jumped right in, interrupting them immediately, “But oh, I AM a person AND a friend to you, Chief Solshigtr.” Ahearn was just as masterful at word inflection as Rogan. The chieftain was startled that his personal name had been spoken, and involunarily backed away. Ahearn looked at him cooly and without emotion. He excelled at this. Fortunately, he knew enough of the Wichtlein’s language to catch the chieftain’s name. Knowing and using the Chieftain’s name properly was imperative for Ahearn’s success.

Deciding to take things one step further, Ahearn repeated his words again, only this time, more slowly, and in their coded language. He only knew this important greeting phrase because his brother made him memorize it. For years, the phrase served as the brothers’ secret password. It was a password still, of sorts. Ahearn recited it beautifully in combination with the name of  Solshigtr.

Ahearn remembered something Aiden always bragged, “Only persons of wit and cleverness will survive their first meeting.” Ahearn shuddered to recall another thing his brother warned, “there are never any hostages.” Since Aiden’s success, the Dockalfarians discovered that lawyers and merchants had the best instincts to deal successfully with these ritualistic cannibalistic tribes.

Success would be his only if they asked him to bargain. To survive the meeting, it was vital Ahearn use their codes to his advantage. To them, only Wichtleins were persons. They could never eat a person. The only ones outside their tribe who could achieve person status were negotiators/traders. To receive recognition to negotiate meant one was a person. Hence, Ahearn meant to win person status, determined to be categorized as “not meat” to these savages.

The Chief informed Ahearn they had been aware of them long before they entered the woods. “Friend, Solshigtr,” Ahearn answered, “I know you believe that I have nothing to bargain because my life is already yours.” Chief Solshigtr nodded and smiled.

“But,” Ahearn continued, “my bargain is to save your lives not mine…”

© 2018 DARLENE

I AM A FAN of “THE STORY OF JASMINE”

Expect the Unexpected

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Just Published! Available Now!

This is an early work of DARLENE’s 1980s art, The Alchemist’s Daughter, which I reworked digitally in 2008. As a Greeting Card, it is called, “Expect the Unexpected.”
It’s a fun image about a girl who, no matter how gifted in the alchemical arts of her father, still jumps around excitedly when it comes to discovering an unexpected creature on her person. So focused was she on the otherworldly, that she didn’t notice something crawling up her arm. 

At one time or another, everyone’s concentration suddenly gets disrupted by something unexpected. That is the charm of this art. As a greeting card, it infers that one is extremely surprised to hear some news.
To take it one step further. Often, we need a wake-up call that puts us back on track to stop and look up once in a while and notice what’s going on around you.

 

Jasmine Snippet #82

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The Story of Jasmine Snippets continue:

The Special Card, “Ring of Emeth” from the JASMINE: The Battle of the Mid-Realm Collector Card game.

After a time, Jasmine broke the silence, “When I was underground with the Order of the White Flower, the sisters were very real to me. You say you did not see them. But I spoke with them at length and we had some truly revealing conversations. Is it possible I only spoke to them because of this ring? And maybe it was the ring’s doing that turned those men to stone?”

The fire popped. Jasmine paused long enough to take a breath, “They gave me amazing information about ways to diminish the effect of the metal around my finger. They repeated what the Guardians of Wisdom recommended: to keep the ring under water or under earth. Somehow, being in the open air with the sun out will heighten it’s influence over me. So it’s no wonder I’m feeling more myself… it’s much darker here and there is much more moisture. The ring’s effect has already dampened.”

“We need to get that evil thing off of you.” Glynn said with a sense of urgency.

“I don’t think it’s evil. The visions of the ring are not nightmarish.” Jasmine replied softly, “The lands are breathlessly beautiful; stunning beyond belief. It seems to me, I can hear the denizens of another land speak to me. They tell me another realm exists. To be able to go back and forth at will between the two worlds, requires a controller in possession of the king’s crown and a dragon lizard to power it.”

“So?” Glynn asked.

“So… I have seen that dragon lizard! He belongs to Bardulf. When that thing crowed, Glynn, he blasted me out of the dreamscape I found myself within. What is more, I was able to distinguish the enchantment Bardulf placed upon me. Bardulf just enhanced the ring’s effect by writing himself into the story he wanted me to follow.”

“What?”

“Yes! I know! But those details don’t matter right now. What’s important is this dragon-lizard is attracted to the ring! I think it’s the real reason Bardulf placed it on my finger. So he can track me down using a dragon for a blood hound! Fortunately, he could not track me in the underground caverns, nor at the underground temple, and less so when I was alongside a river or a stream.

“It is strange. I half expected something to happen during our trek through the prairie fields and open spaces. I know, that’s when I was exceptionally vulnerable to being discovered. I don’t know why, but even though we are within a safer wooded area, I feel the time is imminently close for a visit from the creature.”

This revelation made Glynn uneasy. He looked around the camp suspiciously. Jasmine reassured him that the little dragon would not hide. Instead, it would probably announce itself immediately upon it’s arrival with a loud, thundering squawk. That bit of news did not make the dwarf feel much better.

Wanting to suggest something a little more uplifting, Jasmine ventured, “Before the little dragon arrives, I plan to obtain advice about him from the winds.” That bit of information did not stir him either.

Jasmine finally thought of a good way to lighten the atmosphere. She laughed, “Isn’t it wonderful to share a space where three extra people aren’t glowering, suspicious, and charged up about each other?” Glynn finally shared her laugh. He too, appreciated the stillness of having no negative vibes or heavy emotional residue to interrupt or disturb peaceful slumber.

Yes, nodded Glynn. Without the silent clamor, it will certainly be harder to stay vigilent while those goons are away. Still, he could read the night much better without their interference. They tended to affect the electrical bio-field surrounding them. He read there was danger all around. Nothing new there. After a while, Glynn convinced himself, that the three’s psychic noise would have an effective repelling quality on any mental probes directed their way. It certainly had a negative effect on him!

Without the “bungling shield” created by the three, as Glynn laughed to call it, we’re now more prone to being found. He thought of a modest solution to try. He emptied a small sack of its contents, scooped up dirt and rocks to fill it. He wetted the mixture with his canteen and made a muddy paste. Then he awakened Jasmine.

“Here,” he said as he pushed the dirty sac towards the bleary-eyed girl. He took her hand and submerged it in the bag. The feel of mud on her fingers instantly shocked Jasmine into wakefulness. She responded by jerking her hand away.

“No,” Glynn said gently, “keep your ring hand in the bag in the mud and I will sleep better.”

© 2018 DARLENE

I AM A FAN of “THE STORY OF JASMINE”

Jasmine Snippet #81

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Here are some more notes for The Story of Jasmine:

While Glynn poked the fire, Jasmine wondered if she could possibly be homesick. Since the relentless psychic noise had quieted, she was free to think about other things. She’d only been there for less than a day, yet she felt so much more at home, (than anywhere else in the world,) with her tangible ghost sisters, in the belly of an underground temple she had scarcely visited.

If she was still a princess, she’d demand to stay there. But she was not a princess. Not any longer. Before she met her sisters, she renounced all privilege. Thus far during their trip, save for that one thought, no doubts or regrets surfaced about her loss of princess status. She was something more. In the circular throne room, members of the Order of the White Flower collectively materialized before her. At first, she thought she had been sleeping when they appeared. Then she must have sleep-walked back or forward in time, caught within the power of a waking dream.

“Was I only an emptied cup to be filled?” She asked herself.

It seemed to her she became another person. She felt different. Her thoughts strayed around the events of that night. She traced the change in herself to originate from that happening at the Order of the White Flower’s ancient temple grounds. Jasmine noticed she felt a marked change in her demeanor. Of course, who wouldn’t be altered by such an event? But she had no peer to talk to. She searched her mind for some story or advice Ermengarde could have left her in a situation such as this.

Jasmine puzzled over many things as she went over and over what happened that night. That night, when she spoke, a voice (her voice?) originated from her belly. The voice was booming and resonated throughout her rib cage. Vibrating thus, she felt the power in the delivery of her words as well as in the words themselves. That night, with the light of the glowing moon behind her, atop the roof of the ancient temple on the White Throne Mountain, she spoke deeply and purposefully among a chorus of her sisters’ voices…

Again, Jasmine shook herself out of her revery and brought herself back to the present. She sighed to herself, “Ahearn thinks I’m a conquest; Thorne thinks I’m a fool, and Rogan thinks I’m a pawn. Even so, no body knows who I truly am. Everyone defers to me because I used to be a king’s daughter. But I’m so much more now. None see because I keep to myself concentrating all my available reserve of powers to control the effects of the ring on my finger!”

For days, as they traveled on a wind-swept plain during the day, Jasmine depleted her energy reserves in focused concentration. Jasmine concluded the elements of air and fire, which prevailed in their journey, resonated with the ring to enhance their effect.

© 2018 DARLENE

I AM A FAN of “THE STORY OF JASMINE”

Jasmine Snippet #80

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The Story of Jasmine notes proceed:

Two cards from Jasmine: The Battle for the Mid-Realm collector card game.

The moment Thorne spied Gavin, she knew something serious was up. She disentangled herself as fast as she could from her traveling companions and followed the hawk. She chris crossed her path, in case Rogan would try to locate her tracks. When she finally returned to the road, she picked up speed as she turned her stallion loose to run.

This is where her horse, Mindy, excelled. None was faster. Even Rogan’s stallion, who proved to be a worthy horse, could never best Mindy in a race. But they never raced. Thorne wanted to keep her horse’s exceptional penchant for running all to herself.

At last, the bird landed in some trees next to a clearing where there were three battle maidens waiting. “Ambassador Thornekill?” queried the rider in the middle, “Oh Ambassador! Praises be, we caught you in time!” Thorne recognized the voice of the maiden with the copper-colored hair.

“Hail Clara,” Thorne called, “What urgent news awaits me?”

The riders trotted their horses closer to each other. “Come,” said Clara, “visit our camp and we’ll tell tell you everything while you, your horse … and Gavin rest.”

Thorne accepted their hospitality. It wasn’t long before she was eating diltsfef wrapped in flat bread. How long was it since she enjoyed diltsfef? In between savored bites, Thorne listened. She understood that the Northern road had just been compromised by Melantha’s forces.

The Armildians did not want any of their own to fall into her hands, and especially not their Ambassador. Clara chose Gavin, a trained hawk she knew Thorne was sure to recognize, to intercept her before her party took that road. Clara’s plan worked.

As the news unfurled, Thorne’s eyes grew wider. “Gavin may have been too late,” Thorne told them, “if we had not continued west, instead or north. That change of route made little sense at the time, but now I perceive it was the right choice.”

“Praises be!” they agreed.

“Gavin found me right before I set foot into the Hungry Forest.” Thorne continued, “it IS fortuitous that we are now together. Can I trust you to give the report I am about to divulge to the High Council?”

While declaring their devotion, Clara and the others responded by making a secret hand-gesture. “Good,” said Thorne, “Here is my report. My negotiation with the King of UR never took place. King Aranbrod was no longer in power by the time we arrived in Oxted. UR has fallen. I cannot report whether or not our preparations would have met with success.”

“This bodes ill … So the rumors were true?!”

“Yes, they are true. Bardulf’s soldiers enjoy a very public presence.”

“We know, we got wind of a group of Bardulf’s soldiers quickly making their way across the plains about a day behind you.”

“They probably think we’re horse thieves.” Thorn quipped.  I’m sure it was through magical means that an upstart named Bardulf-Thaatur was able to wrest control of the Kingdom. As yet, we don’t know if he has a relationship with Melantha, but he is one not to be trusted.”

“We heard rumors but we could not verify anything. Where is Rogan the Red?”

“Oh him? Rogan is … Rogan. I took steps to assure he could not follow me. But he still has a place in our party. I am traveling with three others besides Rogan. And I believe the daughter of King Aranbrod of UR is among them. She has a dwarf protector, probably a mercenary, Glynn Oakenshield and there is a Dockalfarian royal of all things! I find it hard to believe we are all together by happenstance.

“I found myself in the perfect position of keeping tabs on all these people and determine what they really want, Rogan included. I plan to disengage his services the next time I see him. In the interests of our Nation, I placed the Princess under Armildian protection. The Council will appreciate the political advantage and wisdom in assuring her well-being. So, you see, I must reunite with the group as soon as possible.”

“Ambassador,” her hosts said with alarm, “you and your horse require more rest. Besides, we can help you with time constraints by showing you a little-known short cut into the forest from the south. Mayzelle is familiar with all the Forest pathways for quite a distance. I believe she knows one that leads up towards the bend of the Hungry Forest. We understand the route your party is taking is very, very slow. If you allow her to guide you, you will make good time.”

When Thorne finally gave in, Clara was triumphant, “So now, rest, stretch your muscles and replenish yourself. Have some more diltsfef.” She started humming an old Armildian folk tune, which immediately relaxed Thorne enough to allow herself a full glass of chewy beer.

“If the soldiers were chasing you,” Clara reassured her, “To continue west isn’t the usual choice. Bardulf’s men will surely think you took the north road, sealing their fates.”

“Of this, we cannot be sure. All they have to do is follow the tracks.”

“Those types follow orders. Soldier men can’t think for themselves. Men are creatures of habit, they’d assume they were following you north. They will not take the time to vary their intended course.” Clara’s chatter was quite persuasive, especially when the light struck her hair in places to shine the same honey-color as her eyes.

“…That your group chose to travel west was completely unknown to us. Praises be to Gavin who knew how to find you.” Clara was beaming. “Gavin is under my  care now. He’s an exceptional bird.”

“Oh yes,” Thorne said, leaning back into some pillows, “exceptional!”

© 2018 DARLENE

I AM A FAN of “THE STORY OF JASMINE”