Jasmine Snippet #22

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Notes from The Story of Jasmine continue:

Jasmine & Glynn from a published panel.

The powerful dwarf-warrior rests his weapon and laughs, “Well, you picked yourself quite a name!”

Jasmine straightens up. “And what would you know of this,” she replies in a royal tone.

He noted the change in her demeaner. “Of ‘Jasmine,’ I know little,” he replied. After a short pause, he continued,  “Only, it reminds me of some poetic nonsense I was made to always remember when I was very young:

‘As a warrior lives, a warrior dies,

But you will glide on the wings of the skies.

When the Axe-wolf of Winter’s made the land lean,

Seek out the white flower Jasmine.

In the shrine where the white rocks rise,

This is where your destiny lies…’

“I never wanted to be a victim of prophecy… so I’ve tried my best to forget it. And here you have me remembering it…”

Noting that the sun had almost set, he picks up to leave, turning toward the river. “Where are you going?” she calls, then follows him to the base of the bridge.

“Ah, just as I thought.” The dwarf invites Jasmine into a small cave carved from the riverbank beneath the bridge. Where many fires have been kindled in the past, he renews the fire place. Among bones and other morose debris, the crackling flames illuminate coins and other valuables robbed from many countless travelers above.

Regarding each other with caution, an uneasy companionship develops. She discovers the dwarf’s name is Glynn and that he is traveling to Oxfed.

For a moment, he seems puzzled when she asks if Oxfed is near The Great White Throne. He laughs, replying that many years ago his people had hoped those mountains had riches to mine but their hopes were all but dashed. Ever since, his people called that mountain Fool’s Hope.

“You are a strange one,” Glynn remarks, as if seeing her for the first time, “You know things you could not possibly know, yet you can’t walk through the woods without stumbling!” Jasmine frowns and returns a look of defiance.

Leaving the warmth of the fire, Glynn impales the heads of the cut-throats on their own pole-arms and places them for all to see at the end of the bridge. In death, as in life, the two heads bob in the wind, watching over their bridge, to mock or to be mocked.

© 2018 DARLENE

Jasmine Snippet #21

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The Story of Jasmine notes continue:

Traveling alone in the wilderness, the full impact of her situation slowly became clear. “What a wretched person I am.” she thought, recalling the events of the recent past, “Now I have nothing–neither kingdom nor title.”

At the Guardians’ insistence, she had to relinquish her identity. “Flavia must die!” they told her. In addition to abandoning her name, she exchanged her royal raiment for simpler garments.

Her long journey north began underground. With provisions and much encouragement, this nameless maiden had been led through a labyrinth of cold, damp rock. For weeks, it seemed, they made their way through dark and still passageways. Then finally, came the first shafts of sunlight. She grew joyful as the chamber neared an exit. But then she came to understand that the little community of wise, kind-eyed people who had accompanied her thus far would not be accompanying her any further. She halted.

“Not far from here,” they told her, “is a mountain called The Great White Throne. On top of that mountain are the sacred ruins of an ancient shrine. Go there. Invoke the spirit of Erlkyng and help you will find. And always remember, stay away from the main road—your enemies are many and they are everywhere.”

To give her courage, they placed around her neck, a pouch filled with jasmine petals.

© 2018 DARLENE

Jasmine Snippet #20

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Continued are the notes for “The Story of Jasmine.”

Prince Ahearn of Dockalfar, from the unpublished Installment #13.

Only the day before, King Aranbrod spoke to his daughter sternly and in frightful earnest, “For seven years, you have repaid my patience and generosity with false intentions. Now there is only one suitor left. He is from the north, a proud prince of the dark elves. Flavia, THIS time, you cannot refuse…”

Flavia, upon seeing her father’s firm determination, knew that her resolve never to consent to marriage was at an end. She could no longer oppose him and yielded. She agreed to properly receive Ahearn, Prince of Dockalfar as her future husband. The King smiled and, kissing his daughter on the forehead, tells her that he must ride immediately to tend to a crucial matter within the kingdom and would be unable to attend the official courtship event. That was why he needed her promise to consent. As he leaves her chamber, he mutters something about already being indebted to his future son-in-law.

However, when the next day arrived, the princess lost heart and forgot her promise. She’d imagined her prince would be filled with art and music, much like the other suitors that she refused. But when the last prince stood proud before her, he stood in bloody black armor, his gleaming sword still red-stained from battle. From without, she heard the clamor of UR’s own soldiers rising to arms.

The dark prince bowed before her and took her hand to kiss, but he did not remove his headgear. Feeling the coldness of his armor, she quickly withdrew her hand. When their eyes met, his harsh look pierced her astonished one.

“M’lady,” said he, “forgive my appearance, but your western outpost has been attacked!”

The Prince then recounted the details of the battle to the court as, no doubt, he would many times in the future. But the Princess stood in shock. She did not know what to do, so she stood like a statue, still and unmoving. She did not wish to listen to the account of this person’s most recent exploits and refused to engage him in conversation. She found this prince, standing so darkly before her, to be course and disgusting. Courtship protocol was the furthest thing from her mind.

At length, the little patience Prince Ahearn possessed finally frayed. He spoke his mind, “Princess of UR, you have not only insulted me with your discourteousness, but you have disgraced your kingdom. As I did not remove my armor before I entered your company, I accept blame for your apparent bewilderment and forgive you. I must keep wearing my armor because I am still needed on the battlefield.

“I am sorry. There is no time for gentle wooing. The time is nigh that I return to the aid of your father in battle. In exchange for my sword, you have already been promised to me as my wife. Make it official by declaring your love and faith to me and I will fight in your name as my beloved.”

The princess finally found her tongue. ”What? Kill in my name? I find you a rude and woeful companion and will never willingly marry you. Leave me at once and never return!”

“Vain princess — your intentions are now known to me, and clear. This disastrous meeting was only a courtesy. You and I are already promised. Whether or not either of us want it, our fathers have already agreed. And it is why I am called and consent to battle on your behalf.”

Then Ahearn withdrew. Truth be told, he was relieved return to battle. That is something he understood well. He always felt awkward and ill at ease at court, and this one, especially so.

_________________

* Arbethe or Aranbrod — I seem to have been unable to settle upon the right name for the King of UR, even within the same document.

© 2018 DARLENE

Jasmine Snippet #19

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The Story of Jasmine notes continue:

She stared into an oblong fountain filled with water. The rippled-diamond reflections danced upon the curves of her face and sparkled brightly in her green eyes. The trough also contained something very powerful, as it was the source of the brilliant light. The white maiden’s concentration was so intense that…

______

Sorry, that was all that was written. I’m assuming this passage has something to do with finding the Staff of Erlkyng.

© 2018 DARLENE

Jasmine Snippet #18

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The Story of Jasmine notes continue:

The day before King Aranbrod spoke to his daughter in frightful earnest, “For seven years, you have repaid my patience and generosity with false intentions. Now there is only one choice left. He is from the north, a proud prince of the dark elves. Flavia, THIS time, you cannot refuse him.”

Flavia, upon seeing her father’s stern resolve, knew that she could not oppose him. Before her father left her chambers, she consented to receive Ahearn, Prince of Dockalfar. The King smiles and tells her that tomorrow, he must tend to an important matter. That was why he wanted her to consent. Needed elsewhere, he is unable to attend the event of their official meeting. As he leaves, he mutters something about already being indebted to him.

However, when the next day arrived, the princess lost heart. She had imagined her prince would be filled with art and music, much like the other suitors she refused. But when the prince stood before her, he stood in bloody black armor, his gleaming sword still red-stained from battle. From without, she heard the clamor of UR’s own soldiers rising to arms.

The dark prince bowed before her and took her hand to kiss, but he did not remove his headgear. Feeling the coldness of his armor, she quickly withdrew her hand. When their eyes met, his harsh look pierced hers. “M’lady,” said he, “forgive my appearance, but your outposts have been attacked!”

He then quickly recounted the details of the battle to the court as, no doubt, he would many times in the future. But Flavia was shocked. She did not know what to do, so she stood still, unmoving. Thus, frozen she would not discourse with him on any subject. She found the man, standing darkly before her, to be course and disgusting. She did not want to listen to his account and did not make him feel at ease.

The precious little patience the prince possessed began to fray. At length, he spoke his mind, “You have not only insulted me with your rude and discourteous behavior, but you have disgraced your kingdom. The custom in my country, is not to remove armor when a battle on the field is still active. If this is not your custom, I accept blame for your bewildered silence and forgive you.”

The Prince was agitated, doing his best to rein in his anger. “I am sorry there is no time for gentile wooing. The time is nigh that I return to the battle to the aid of your father. In exchange, you have been promised to me as my wife. Make it so by declaring your love and faith to me and I will fight in your name as my beloved.”

The princess finally found her tongue. ”What? Kill in my name? I find you a rude and woeful companion and will never willingly marry you. Leave me alone and never return!”

“Vain princess — your intentions are now known to me, and clear. This disastrous meeting was only a courtesy. You and I are already promised, whether or not either of us want it. Our fathers have already signed the agreements. And it is why I am called to battle.”

Then Ahearn withdrew.

_________________

* Arbethe or Aranbrod — I seem to have been unable to settle upon the right name for the King of UR, even within the same document.

© 2018 DARLENE

Jasmine Snippet #17

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The notes for the Story of Jasmine continue:

This is the ICON I used for Jasmine Publications when I decided to publish my own game based on “The Story of Jasmine.”

Flavia de UR* walked briskly past the aisle, her footsteps echoing with resolve as she entered from the courtyard. “Let the barbarian wait.” She announced haughtily to her attendant within earshot of the young suitor who had spent most of the day doing just that.

He was the last suitor. She had always found plenty of excuses to dismiss all the others. The last suitor waited outside the chamber. In months past, she had cleverly dispatched all the other eligible men whom her father, the King, had carefully chosen for her. And even though she knew her father’s anger would increase with each passing moment, she could not bring herself to face the fate of being a royal daughter. So Flavia de UR played a waiting game.

The golden light of the setting sun streamed through a small window. Flavia de UR prayed. She did not want to be a pawn. She wanted to feel alive.

_______________________________

*Elsewhere, I called her Princess Arlet.

This seems to be the first bit of actual story writing.

Jasmine Story – Snippet 16

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A continuation of The Jasmine Story notes:

Event Cards

The great continent of the Mid-Realm has long heard the battle cries raised between the forces of good and evil.

The evil sorceress, Melantha, has conjured a terrifying demon force against anyone who would oppose her.

The dark prince, Bardulf relies greatly on the ability of his spies and assassins to secure his position, while the Ice king,Thorgall, rallies his mighty troops to fight for victory.

As a champion of good, Jasmine has united her allies to keep the Mid-Realm free. The varying strengths and weaknesses of the four factions make them evenly matched and deadly foes as the balance of power in the Mid-Realm teeters on the brink of war.

Thus the characters from The Story of Jasmine fantasy adventure (last published in The Dragon Magazine), continue to interact with each other in a product of beauty, excitement and suspense.

____________________________

Now that I type this, I realize this was one of the first snippets outlining the card game I developed based upon The Story of Jasmine.

As I developed the card game, the details of the story continued through the cards.

More about the Jasmine: The Battle For The Mid-Realm card game.

© 2018 DARLENE

Jasmine Story – Snippet 15

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Notes for The Story of Jasmine continue:

Palace of the Ice King, Thorgall.

“I am drawn by the spirit of the North,” Thorgall said of his kingdom, “and am determined not to be crushed by it. It takes a special people to prosper where nature makes life so difficult.”

“I have chosen to make things hard for myself,” he commented, “because there is much merit in it.”

____________________

This is more representative of the things I would “receive” during the day… often a small snatch of conversation be tween two characters. I usually wrote them on napkins or note cards or whatever was at hand. Of all my written notes, these would probably be the ones not to survive.

Obviously, I did not command the creative process.

© 2018 DARLENE

What Good Are You?

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It’s something my late husband, Vincent, and I used to light-heartedly joke to each other whenever one of us messed up.

Hand-crafted by DARLENE in 1997

“What Good Are You?” reflects our wacky, off-beat sense of humor. Of course, underneath it all was a foundation of appreciation and respect for each other.

I happened to find this card, which I hand-rendered and gave to him in 1997. Today, I decided to dust it off and offer it as a greeting card to other people who want an opportunity to express to another person just how great they are, even if they are unsure about it themselves.

As a hand-rendered card, I made the lettering disappear into the design. You have to search to read what it says. Then, once you figure it out, you do a double-take. Do you know your own Beauty? Many people do not. They are clueless. Thus, I offer this Friendship Recognition card at my Zazzle store.

Available here.

Jasmine Story – Snippet 14

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The notes for The Story of Jasmine continue:

This piece of art is “The Rainbow Maiden” and was created roughly around the same time as Jasmine.

Upon the waning of the Third Age of the Mid-Realm, there lived a King who ruled the great peninsula of UR. The wise rule of Arbethe* and the prosperity of UR was widely known throughout the Mid-Realm. And many traveled South to partake of UR’s hospitality.

King Aranbrod’s* greatest love was for his pale and fragile queen who died while delivering unto him a daughter. And although King Aranbrod grieved over the loss of his beloved wife, he took steps to insure his only child would be strong in body and mind.

As his daughter’s blonde hair shone golden in the sunlight, he called her Flavia,** which means “golden hair.” As the years passed, he marveled at how well Flavia resembled her mother. Because he forgave her mischief far too often, Flavia grew to be headstrong.

It came to pass that on her 10th birthday, her father came to her and said, “the time has come for me to seek a match for you so UR will continue to prosper through me.”

Fearing her loss of freedom, Flavia replied, “Aye, father, this is true — but I am only a child. I entreat you, father, please wait on this until I am a true maiden.”

Reluctantly, the king granted her wish. Thus, year after year, Flavia was able to put him off until her 15th birthday, when it was clear for all to see that she had grown into a fair and beautiful young maiden.

To her father’s satisfaction, Flavia finally agreed to be wooed by the many eligible suitors of UR. But her condition was that she be the only one to decide who would be her husband. So, in this way, all the able young men who came to ask for her hand were turned away.

As time wore on, her suitors became so few that the King invited eligible princes outside his kingdom to come. He did not realize his daughter had resolved never to choose any man for a husband. The last suitor came on her 17th birthday.

__________________________

*Finally, the King of UR has a name, actually two of them, in the same snippet: Arbethe and Aranbrod

**Now Princess Arlet is named Flavia. The name is an Ancient Roman name, which does, indeed mean “blonde” (from the Latin word “flavus,” meaning “golden, blonde).

You can tell by comparing this Snippet to the last one that these are woefully out of order.