Chris C

Start of Chapter One - Establishes Primary and tertiary protagonists, their relationship, and the nature of their lives before the plot comes along and throws it to chaos. Establishes setting and tone, introducing a world of low magic and grounded fantasy.
 

It was the height of summer and chill choked the wild grasses. Unnatural stillness gripped the wind, fouling it with the bitterness of death, and Vivica Harrow tracked a monster.

Farmers in these parts told tales of a beast as large as a house stalking their fields by night. The beast would appear by way of the ground and pull cattle to a clamorous fate with long, bony fingers before terrible howling of gluttonous delights lullabied crying babes back to sleep. Children claimed to have glimpsed a demon with yellow eyes and black fur sneaking outside their windows in the moonlight, and local skalds sang tales of the great monstrosity that rumbled the earth with its footsteps and sent men mad with its ethereal snarl. But for Vivica’s money, it was just a mujina.

“And what’s a mujina then?” Ari Traust, Vivica’s partner, had not mastered the art of silently stalking prey. On the contrary, he swung his axe through the untamed grass as though tempting something to leap out at him. No doubt he would have been happy to start the fight sooner, and quickly return to the comforts of an inn.

“It’s like a giant badger,” sighed Vivica.

“Since when do badgers make the ground turn to mush and snack on cows?”

Vivica rolled her eyes. “I said it’s like a badger, not actually a badger. Have you never read a book?”

“Why would I when I have you to read for me? Go on then, tell me about this mujina thing. I know how much you love to school me.”

“Do I? Here I was thinking how nice it would be to have a partner with even half a brain for once.”

Ari blushed sarcastically. “You flirt.”

“Fine,” she sighed, desperate to stop his teasing before it once again became relentless. “Mujinas, like badgers, are intelligent and surprisingly vicious beasts with an extremely keen sense of smell. They tend to live underground, but occasionally make their way to the surface in grasslands like these drawn by the smell of fresh meat. Some people have called them shapeshifters-”

“Wait!” yelled Ari, giving away the mischievous intent of his interruption with a profoundly stupid grin. “If it can change shape, then how do we know my axe hasn’t already felled it in the grass? I’m certain I’ve hit at least two rats so far this morning.”

“You’re an idiot.”

He smiled proudly. “I prefer charming dimwit.”

“Do you want to know what we’re up against or not?” Vivica managed to burn away Ari’s smile with narrowed eyes. “Mujinas don’t change their own form, they alter the area around where they nest.”

“You want me to ask you how, don’t you?”

“I never want you to ask me anything,” she countered.

“How?”

Vivica tried not to smile as she continued her lecture. “Well, no one’s entirely sure. People have said they eat magic gems or magic worms beneath the earth that give them powers over the land. But my guess is that they’ve developed some sort of natural ability to cool their surroundings. Seeing as they’re typically subterranean, it makes sense that they would adapt to make their nests on the surface cooler. Probably achieved by some form of flatulence, which would explain why they prefer to eat animals with high fat content like cows and pigs.”

“So, your theory is they fart… so violently… the earth changes around their nests?”

“It makes just as much sense as eating magic worms,” she countered.

“And their nests.” Ari’s voice became serious. “How many would be inside?”

“It varies, why?”

“Because I think I just found it.”

Vivica investigated where Ari’s axe was pointed and found a large opening in the earth marked with deep claw marks and splatters of blood.

“You said it burrows?” asked Ari, “How do we know it’s down there?

“Mujinas are nocturnal,” she shrugged, “it has to sleep somewhere.”

Ari considered the hole for a moment, but only a moment. Vivica could see he was ready to jump into the lightless pit and start swinging blind. She grabbed him by the collar before he could be so stupid.

“You can’t see in the dark. It can.”

Ari nodded slowly. Clearly this thought had only occurred to him now. “Traps then?” he suggested.

“Indeed,” she confirmed. “I’ll set them.”

“You always set them.”

“Because you’re awful at anything that requires even the slightest amount of finesse.”

He frowned playfully, “I can be useful if you let me.”

“I know. I intend to let you be bait.”

 

Ari dangled his legs above the pit entrance as Vivica gave him the signal to begin. He checked the rope tied to his belt would hold as he whispered a prayer to his god. He kissed the holy sign carved into his axe’s hilt and jumped, cheering, into the darkness. Vivica waited. She nestled down flat in the tall grass, eye pressed against the scope of her custom-made Branca Crossbow and started to count backwards.

Fifteen. She heard shouting, or cheering, escaping the pit.

Ten. The earth reverberated in her bones.

Five. Ari scrambled from the pit, axe covered in blood and waving frantically for Vivica to be ready.

Three. Two. One.

The mujina shot out of the earth like a geyser of black fur, gnashing teeth, and claws. The ground cracked beneath its weight as it landed, and it lunged blindly for Ari while he egged it on. The beast was fast, but Ari stood firm, leaning on his axe with an exaggerated confidence that Vivica knew was just for her sake. Maw open, the mujina looked ready to swallow Ari whole, but its jaws were shut by the sprung traps. Pressurized steam burst beneath the beast, searing its belly while timed snares grabbed it and pulled it into the ground.

Ari called out something he no doubt thought was funny as he split the creature’s skull with his greataxe, but Vivica could neither discern his words, nor had time to revel in anything humorous. Another mujina clawed its way from the pit. It was larger and more feral than the first, and it did not appear so blinded by the morning sun. It ran for Ari, nimbly avoiding the traps below it with precise footing it’s size shouldn’t have allowed for. Ari panicked, retreating without retrieving his axe from the first mujina’s skull. Through the scope Vivica saw his lips moving, no doubt he was asking his god for intervention, but his constant movement made it difficult for Vivica to get a clean shot.

“Stop panicking,” she muttered, adjusting her position slightly while she loaded in a special, red-tipped bolt.

Ari’s god finally answered his call as the beast was about to make a meal of him. He clutched his holy symbol and golden light pierced the sky, parting the clouds and incinerating the beast’s back leg. But the mujina was not so easily smote. It screamed in pain, lashing out at Ari with a determined fury, pinning him to the ground beneath its claws and lowering gnarly teeth to his face.

“Vivica!” he screamed before the air could be pushed from his lungs, “Anytime you’re ready!”

“Bite me,” she said, squeezing the trigger. The Branca Bow hissed with steam as pistons rapidly fired, propelling her bolt across the field like a shooting star. The mujina was blown away from Ari, a gape in its hide, and set ablaze with white-hot flames.

 

“I think that went very well, all things considered,” said Ari as Vivica helped him back to his feet.

“Are we not considering the second one, that you missed, that nearly killed you then?” she countered.

“Two things,” he smiled, “first, I had faith that you’d get it off me, and secondly, it’s very dark down there.”

“Then I suggest you give your eyes time to adjust this time.”

“This time? I’m half dead.”

“You have a few scratches,” she shrugged.

“I’ll make you a counteroffer. I’ll go collect the cart and horses, and you go down there.”

“I would rather ride ahead and get the stench of burning badger off me.”

Ari laughed, “I distinctly remember telling you that I have to report for reassignment today. So, if anyone’s leaving early, it’s me.”

“Reassignment?” Vivica hid her displeasure poorly, “To where?”

“Prim.”

Her displeasure deepened, mixing with envy. “You can’t help me take these things back to the village first?”  

“Afraid not,” he shrugged, “but I can help you get the cart and horses.”

Vivica huffed, “It’s been months since I went to Prim. All Newton’s got is sailors and farmers harassing everyone they can find until they knock each other unconscious.”

“Nonsense. Sometimes, the booze knocks them out first.” Ari laughed again. It was an infectious kind of laugh, and Vivica despised how well it worked on her. “Come on, Newton’s got character. And, later today, it will have your brother too.”

Vivica could have kicked herself. “Shit.”

“By the gods woman, other than what you read in your books, information goes in one ear and out the other.”

She scowled at him. “Fine. I’ll check the nest; you fetch the horses. Quickly.”

“I’m going to miss how bossy you are,” sighed Ari. “I wonder if I can even survive the next three months without you telling me how to wipe my arse.”

“Three months?” Vivica didn’t like how stroppy she was sounding.

“It’s okay to admit you’ll miss me, Viv.” Ari’s smugness was enough to snap Vivica back to her usual scathe.

“On the contrary, I was hoping you’d gone for much longer.” She pushed past him, making ready to enter the nest before he could inevitably win their game of taunts.

“What, no goodbye kiss?” he called after her.

 “Fuck off, Ari.”

Back of Chapter One - Establishes Primary and secondary protagonists, their relationship, and the personal conflict that arises from it. Touches on setting and tone. Introduces secondary antagonist and foreshadows primary conflict. 
 

Anders threw a cheerful refrain into the growing raucousness as a bard fell from the bar top before he could finish his deaf tune.

"Good show!" he laughed, seeming to believe that there was such a thing in this shanty town and the performance they had just endured met that most basic standard of good. "Come on Viv, crack a smile!"

Vivica did no such thing, not least in part because Anders had made his demand of her with a mouth full of food. He devoured his tavern dinner like an animal despite earlier claims that he’d fed himself, and Vivica watched with mild amazement, and ample disgust, as the tiny teenager put away enough food for someone twice his size; then proceeded to finish her own plate, left untouched after the flavours of salt and vinegar quickly became too much for Vivica's tongue to bear. He tried to order himself a glass of spirits for his dessert, but Vivica had no interest in carrying the kid home, nor in seeing his dinner regurgitated on her carpet the next morning. She cut him off after two mugs of ale, and insisted they walked home immediately after he’d finished. Anders agreed with minimal bargaining.

The streets of Newton were void of vibrancy and life in the deepening night, save for the occasional stray cat or dog, each of which Anders stopped to try and pet. Yet, Vivica felt unease as she walked, unable to enjoy the companionship of Anders and his pets, unwilling to appreciate the starry sky or gentle songs carried on sea winds from drunken dockmen given courage enough to express themselves. The further from the tavern they wandered, the less light was available to guide their steps. The moon was empty tonight, every other street lamp had fallen into disuse, and few houses had yet lit their lanterns, but in the corner of Vivica’s eye, she caught darkness moving towards them that light would not dispel. She said nothing to her brother but hurried him along from the next stray and changed her route, ducking into a side street before heading up the hill towards home. The shadows kept close. She upped her pace slightly, dragging Anders along whenever he was tempted to stop.

“What’s the problem?”

She silenced her brother's moaning with a stare. She moved them along quicker now, all but jogging up the hill - much to Anders’ discomfort.

“Viv, stop. I’m going to be-”

His three-meal-dinner emptied out into the streets, but Vivica didn’t stop to scold him. Her hand went to the sword on her hip and gripped the hilt tightly, waiting, daring the shadows to come closer.

“Lady Harrow.” The stalker made himself known, stepping into the flickering streetlight like a predator making ready for slaughter. Fortunately, the man had little more menace to him than a mouse. His pointed nose, and uneven whiskers gave him more in common with a rat than anyone should wish for. He dressed in the crimson and bronze armour of the city guard, finishing his outfit with a wicked smile, yet the man's eyes were uncomfortably cold and small, undoing all other notions of weakness and non-threat. Vivica’s hand squeezed around her blade even tighter as the man stepped further into the streetlight.

“You planning to use that blade on me?”

She considered it. “Captain Bove, you should know better than to sneak up on a woman.”

The guard chuckled, yet his eyes remained as lifeless as a shark’s. “I wouldn’t dare to sneak up on one of our own Vorhelt. I noticed this lad was feeling a mite under the weather and thought I might offer my assistance.”

He held out a kerchief and Anders went to take it, thanking the captain, but Vivica stopped his hand.

“We’re fine,” she said through grated teeth.

“Are you now?” Bove grinned. “Are you fine there, lad? This scary witch isn’t taking advantage of you, is she?”

Confusion crossed Anders' face. “No?”

“Bad clams at the inn back there then?” Bove chuckled amiably, warmly even. But his lips could not form a proper smile, only a poor imitation.

“She’s my sister-”

Vivica stepped between them, scowling. “You have streets to patrol, and a dock filled with Westerlings, Captain. I suggest you attend to your duties.”   

Bove tucked away his kerchief and raised his hands in false surrender. “If you’re sure, lad. There’s not much of a family resemblance.”

There wasn’t. Vivica was, in her eyes, exceptionally plain. She had straight dark hair, brown eyes and tiny features set to colourless skin. Anders, however, had beautiful blonde curls, piercing blue eyes and a face full of character. If he shaved his wispy moustache, he might even be handsome; until he spoke at least.

“Different fathers. Same mother.” Vivica emphasised the last word, turning it into a threat. Captain Bove understood her perfectly, dropping his plaster smile as he stepped away.

“Get home safe then, boy. You're always welcome to come find me, anytime, if your sister's seriousness gets too much for you. I know all the best spots in town.” The captain tipped his helmet at Vivica. “Lady Harrow.”

Vivica felt air inflate her lungs again when he was gone, unaware that she’d been holding her breath. She pulled her fingers off her blade and willed them to stop trembling before turning to her brother.

“Don’t accept things from strangers, Anders!” she seethed.

“Who was that?”

Vivica caught her breath again and let go of the boy's shoulders. “A weasel and a piece of shit rolled into one.”

Anders nodded, but confusion remained on his face. “If he’s the local captain, then won’t he be the one in charge of my training?”

“What?” it was Vivica’s turn to wear a confused expression.

“Well, you’ll be busy with your duties. I figured the local garrison would train me.”

“Anders,” she squeezed his face between her palms. “Don’t go anywhere near that man.”

“Fine,” he said, wriggling free from her grip. “But then who’s going to train me? You?”

“What are you talking about? Train you for what? You want to join the army?”

“What are you talking about?” he countered. “The whole reason I’m here is to shadow you, learn what you do, train with the sword so I can join the Vorhelt in a few years.”

Vivica took a step back and considered her brother closely. There was no shred of disbelief or lack of conviction to his words, yet he delivered them with all the menace of a mouse. She didn't want to see his wide-eyed naivete.

“We're nearly home," she said.

"You're hiding something," he countered.

"I'm allowed to hide whatever I like from you."

"Not when it affects me directly." Anders planted his feet in a woozy act of defiance. "I'll stand here all night if you don't tell me who's going to train me."

Vivica rolled her eyes and continued walking, waiting for him to catch up before she continued. "No one's going to train you, Anders. You’re not going to shadow me, or even touch a sword while you’re here.”

“What? Then what am I going supposed to do?”

Vivica gave an exaggerated shrug. “Live a life of relative comfort, read books and find an apprenticeship you’ll like.”

“But I don’t want to do that,” he groaned, tugging at her sleeves in an attempt to make her stop. “I want to do you what you do.”

“No, you don’t.”

“I want to be a hero.”

Vivica scoffed, “What’s so glamorous about it? Being treated like a common handyman for people too scared, or too lazy to fix their own problems?”

“It’s better than the alternatives! I don’t want to sit behind a desk counting coins.”

“Why not?” she countered, “you’d probably be very good at it.”

Anders kicked a stone down the street in frustration, “Why won’t you let me do this?”

“Me?” Vivica stopped her march, turning to see a face she’d worn many times in her youth now owned and improved by her brother. She sighed, exhausted by the day, and further drained by the prospect of continuing this conversation. She’d hoped that the kid would have more self-awareness, but a youth of plentiful coin, ample servants, and reinforced legacy had robbed Anders of something precious.

“Mother didn’t tell you, did she?”

“Tell me what?”

“Think about it, Anders! Look at yourself properly for a minute and consider why, of all our siblings, Mother would you send you here, of all places, to live with me.”

He was starting to get it. His lip trembled as he fought against insecurities so poorly buried beneath the surface of his bravado.  “What do you mean? Just tell me plainly, why am I here then?”

Vivica stopped for a second and finally met with her brother’s tear-ready eyes. “Mother doesn’t think you’re good enough to join the Vorhelt. She’s sent you here to stay with the least favourite daughter, because you too, are a disappointment to her.”

She felt as if she’d smacked her brother across the face. It certainly looked as though someone had. She considered laying a hand on his shoulder to comfort him but thought perhaps comfort was not what Anders needed. Instead, she kept walking.

“Come along, brother. Tomorrow, you start the life of a disappointment. I'll show you the ropes.”

Story Statement:

Vivica Harrow is driven to keep her brother, Anders, and the young warlock, Shina, safe from the Inquisition, even if it costs her position, privilege, or life.

Antagonists: 

In her story, Vivica fights against many foes, though none more dangerous than the Inquisition, and its leader, Bartholomew Crow. 
Coming from a minor house of nobility, Crow wants nothing more than to carve his mark into the world and intends to grow his holy army to supplant the king, break the Vorhelt council, and reform the world in his twisted vision of fairness and progress. 
Crow is driven by his relentless ambition, willing to sacrifice ideals, comrades and political leveraging for his goals. Yet, he's not without guile and wicked cunning, forging alliances with enemies of the crown while patiently waiting for his moment to strike before delivering decisive blows to his enemies. 
An accomplished soldier, Crow approaches the world around him as a battle to be won. He's an exceptional tactician and knows that two steps forwards often require one step backwards. However, what makes Bartholomew Crow so vastly dangerous is not his relentlessness, the favour of his god, nor his mysterious and powerful backer, The Shadow Giant; Bartholomew Crow is threatening because he wholeheartedly believes that it's better to break an enemy than it is to beat them, and he's more than capable of enjoying such cruelty.

Title Options: 

Harrow.

The Vorhelt.

Vorhelt Tales - Poison, Warlocks & Death

Comp Titles: 

Harrow is a sprawling Fantasy with significant Young Adult appeal. 
Fans of how Rebecca Ross weaves intimate and familial relationships into the heart of her YA Fantasy stories will find new and enjoyable heroes to cheer for in Vivica Harrow and her allies. While those who enjoy grounded fantasy realism, mature themes, and intrigue like that appearing in Joe Abercrombie's A Little Hatred will find a vast and comprehensive world to get lost in.

Logline: 

After encountering a young girl with the power to control death itself, monster slayer, detective, and people's hero, Vivica Harrow is forced to abandon everything she's ever worked for and her position in the Vorhelt guild to keep the girl safe from the Inquisition that wants her dead.

Inner Conflict:

Through her journey, Vivica is forced to confront what it means to be a member of the Vorhelt, whether she's actually helping others, and if that's something she truly wants. A life of heroism and privilege never appealed to Vivica; however, her mother wouldn't allow anything less for her children and often employed cruel methods to train and prepare Vivica and her siblings. Eventually, Vivica left home to discover what kind of person she wanted to be, only to be brought back when her sister, Nora, asked for help to pass the Vorhelt trials. Despite being plagued by a degenerative illness, Nora was selfless and brilliant. And although acceptance into the Vorhelt ranks would have given her the technology to cure what ailed her, she only ever wanted to help others. So, when Nora died during the trial, Vivica accepted the position her sister coveted and has been reluctant in her duties ever since. 
So, when Vivica's younger brother is kidnapped by raiders from the West, she has no compunctions about ingesting a potentially fatal dose of performance-enhancing poison to keep from losing another sibling. Yet, Vivica survives, barely, and the young girl (Shina)'s ability to control death allows Vivica to reunite with her deceased sister. 
On death's door and with renewed purpose to keep Shina and her brother Anders safe, Vivica is finally forced to confront what she wants to do with her life and what it means to be a hero.

Secondary Conflict:

As Vivica's health worsens throughout her story, her concern for Anders grows. In the five years since she last saw him with any frequency, the boy has hardly changed, willfully remaining juvenile and naive. Yet Vivica is reluctant to take the boy under her wing, to train and encourage him as she once did with Nora, even when Anders shows maturity and growth. However, Vivica's decision to aid the young warlock means that Anders is placed in the same danger she'd wanted to keep him from. With a relentless enemy pursuing them, Vivica wonders how she can keep the boy safe; and if he perhaps has a value she'd overlooked until it was too late to appreciate it.

Setting: 

Set on the west coast of the Megisan Kingdom, Harrow explores only a small handful of the things that make this fantasy world unique; while setting up a larger world for following stories. 

• Long ago, the gods lived among a race of giants. The gods taught the giants their magic and guided their great civilization as it grew to cover the world. But when the gods withdrew to the heavens, the giants were overcome by raging demons, and now all that remains of their once-great empire are the handful of ruins scattered across the world. Most modern cities are built on or beside these ruins. 
• The secrets of magic disappeared with the gods, though it's said there are places of power remaining in the world and that the various mythical beasts prowling the countryside of Megisan were born from this influence. But for mortal humankind, magic is accessible only through the gods' favour or the treacherous touch of demons.
• The world warred for the fragments of magic for centuries until King Harlan the First brought peace to the eastern lands where Megisan now lays its borders. He instituted a system used to this day of three governing bodies to ensure peace, prosperity and protection for all his subjects. From his palaces in the East, King Harlan created laws and guards dressed in red and copper to keep them; from rich mountains in the North, he allowed guilds and bankers wearing green and gold to organize the realm's wealth and development. And from the bustling cities in the West, he allowed five generals dressed in blue and silver to form a council of heroes (Vorhelt) to serve the people and protect them from threats he could not. 
• The heroic council grows in influence and power every year, maintaining the balance between the factions of wealth and law. The greatest minds and most heroic citizens find homes within the Vorhelt halls, sharing secret technologies and resources with each other, pioneering feats of scientific progress that rival what the giants could do with magic.
• With this newfound reliance on the mind, fear of magic grows, giving rise to an Inquisition led by the favoured of the gods. Those born with dark power given to them by demons are considered warlocks and hunted with extreme prejudice. The crown supports this growing force of Inquisitors, and the world is safer from those who consort with demons. 
• The western coast of Megisan thrives, opening new ports and expanding cities with automatons and burgeoning electricity pioneered by Vorhelt councilman and Vivica Harrow's patron, Tomo Quinn. 
• Vivica is assigned to the western frontiers, operating primarily between Prim, the City of Knowledge, and Newton, a quiet port town. With her discovery of the young warlock, Shina, Vivica leaves Newton for the City of Knowledge, hoping to find allies with her Vorhelt comrades there. But Prim borders the plains and deserts of the South, where the Inquisition has many men. A final confrontation must be held in Prim, among the streets of colourful retailers and impressive innovations. There Vivica's friends and allies must fight to prevent chaotic ambition from spoiling the system that's kept their world in balance for so long.

The core action of the story begins in the port town of Newton - a quaint city on the western coast, close to the neighbouring nation of Faenden by sea. Newton has seen significant economic growth in recent years; however, poor management by local lords and unambitious bankers alike means the bustling town pales compared to the Great Cities of the West and still feels like a seaside shanty town. 

The air is thick with salt blown from a churning sea beyond the bay; the locals are poor, friendly and easily charmed with ale, and short of working on the docks or eating vinegar-laden foods, there's not much to do. 

The most intriguing part of Newton, and why the town is a crucial starting point for the story, lies in the proximity to Faenden. Men of the West (Faens) are often unwelcome in the Megisan Kingdom. Westerlings worship demons instead of gods, destroy instead of build, and a century ago, great Faen armies invaded Megisan in a brutal conquest. To keep cities safe from further Faen horror while still being able to enjoy the benefits of foreign trade, the king decreed that no Faens may stay or sleep within city limits, and so hordes of raiders assemble outside Newton each night and scheme different ways to make their fortunes.

 

After Newton is burned to the ground by raiders, and Vivica subsequently burns her bridges there, the setting shifts to Prim, the City of Knowledge.

Prim - like the other Great Cities of the Western Coast, is built atop ancient giant ruins. The city is famed for its academies, scholars, alchemist, machinists, artificers and rebellious artists. Each man and woman who spends their lifetime in Prim marks the city with some indelible signature or forward-thinking idea - most notable among them is the burgeoning application of electricity. Automaton toys run through the streets while children chase them, vendors light their storefronts with neon signs, and workers navigate the city by monorails racing around the reconstructed walls. Prim is a city of many levels and more competing factions. While the city has a distinct feel of magic and wonder, the winding streets hide threats and create room for secret plots to thrive. 

Between the two cities, there are moments of quiet reflection in vaulted halls, contests of strength in cobbled streets, crucial conversations held in ancient ruins and battles fought on rooftops by night. There are moments in wilderness and nature throughout the story, but the two locales with personality and verve are the urban environments of Newton & Prim.