Update 4 - Got Over a Hump...and a Favorite Scene

I am pleased and somewhat relieved to have finally gotten past a scene I have been going over in my head for some time. It was an important one and one I felt I needed to get perfect in order to set the table for when the story begins to kick into another gear.

Not going to lie though. I wrote it one night and just knew it was pure rubbish but I pushed through, deciding to trust myself in the editing process. After I finished it I closed the laptop for the night and then….I just stewed. I hated how it came together. Thinking about how many times I had visualized it in my head and then for it to come out on paper so thin and bland really upset me.

It was a few nights before I could get back to it but when I did I basically rewrote the entire scene. And now? Well, I am highly satisfied with it. Obviously it needs several more passes to make it tight but at least I can sleep now. So there’s that.

In the meantime, here is a scene from earlier in the book that I actually really like. I remember writing it and having a big smile on my face the entire time. Yes, it needs work, but I am happy with it overall. When I was writing it, it reminded me somewhat of light, silly banter between my wife and me.

For this scene, the party has reached the Elves’ capital city of Tribantuan. There they are rewarded for prior heroics with a rare visit into the mysterious treetops. Two of our main characters, Garlord the rogue and Enchantlea the cleric, life-long friends and basically wide-eyed n00bs, eventually find themselves in a tavern, and just sort of take it all in with giddy wonder.

I hope you enjoy it!

Scene

Although the elves no longer seemed to fear the humans, Garlord was not quite ready to walk right into one of the shops.  Despite that and despite the fact that he had just eaten, the tantalizing scents of the market were making his stomach gurgle with desire.  After expressing this to Enchantlea, she informed him the ring-shaped shops were actually gathering places where elves eat and drink.

Around the perimeter they continued until they came upon such a shop.  With a mixture of nervousness and eagerness the two walked hand in hand up to the door and, with a deep breath, opened it and stepped in.

In the center of the hollowed out space in the trunk was a circular mass of wood that had grown out of the floor to form a bar.  Behind it was a black-haired elf that looked like a middle-aged human male who was busily dunking wood mugs in a bucket of soapy water.  Behind him sat five humongous kegs and a pair of iron ovens emitting heat, blue light and a menagerie of delicious smells.

Scattered throughout the room were stubby, stump-like growths that served as tables.  Atop each was a crystal light orb. Anywhere from two to four elves sat at them conversing or listening to a pair of elves off to the right who were singing a delightful duet while playing lutes.  Two elf women in green robes wearing white aprons flit about serving hot stew in wood bowls, wooden mugs of ale and what appeared to be a white wine in delicate crystal long stem glasses.

The crowd subtly noted the appearance of the humans but their presence did not seem to disrupt the cadence of the conversations and song.  Garlord led Enchantlea to a table off to their right they sat down.

Instantly one of the waitresses appeared with a smile.  She was a gorgeous young elf with a stunningly curvaceous body accentuated by the tightly tied apron at her waist.  She had golden hair that caressed either side of her smooth face in long braids. With a beautifully shy voice she greeted them.

Garlord sat stunned.  He had never seen an elf women up close before.  Sure, there were the maidens who had brought them their meals the past couple days, but those exchanges had been awkward and brief.  This elf charmed him with her looks.

Suddenly he felt a sharp pain streak up his shin.  He let out a yelp and looked across the table to find Enchantlea withdrawing her boot with an irritated look on her face.

The waitress giggled and blushed, covering her mouth with her slender, delicate fingertips.

The thief gave the cleric a smirk and shrugged.  He then turned to the waitress and began to speak, but quickly remembered the language barrier and fumbled for a way to communicate with her.

“Um…ahh.  Give me…there!” he began before spotting the other waitress emerging from behind the bar with a tray holding a bowl a stew.  He rapidly jabbed a finger in its direction. “That. There. I’d like that right there. The stew.”

The waitress showed she understood with a nod.

“Annnnnnnnd….” he continued looking for a table nearby where someone was drinking a mug of ale.  Finding what he was looking for he pointed toward it and gestured like he was drinking.

Again the elf indicated she understood.

Garlord motioned to Enchantlea.  “And she’ll have?”

Enchantlea waved him off.  “Oh, no thank you. I’m fine.  Really. Thank you.”

“You sure?” Garlord asked with incredulity.

“I’m sure,” she affirmed.

“Ok.  We’re set,” he said, turning to the elf. He clasped his hands at his chest and nodded to her.  “Thank you.”

The elf giggled again and touching his shoulder she responded with a few words in elvish and walked away.

He watched her leave and with a wide smile turned back to the cleric.  He found her with her arms crossed across her chest and a look on her face that said, “What do you have to say for yourself?”

“My, my.  Aren’t we quite the flirt?” Enchantlea said.

“What?  Who? Me?  What did I do?” Garlord responded in a miserable attempt to defend himself.  “I was just being social. You know, being an ambassador for the human race.”

“Uh-huh,” Enchantlea said, not buying his line for one second.  “Well it worked. I think she likes you.”

“Really? How can you tell?”

“Trust me.  I’m a woman.  We can tell. The giggling.  That little touch as she walked away.”  Enchantlea reached across the table and mockingly touched his hand to emphasize her point.

Garlord snatched his hand back and laughed.  “Get out of here. You’re just putting me on.  Besides, so what if she is attracted to me. Can you blame her?”

“Oh for the gods…” the cleric sighed with a grand rolling of the eyes.

“Jealous?”

“Yes, Garlord.  Terribly,” she replied with dripping sarcasm.

He waved her off with a smirk as he crossed one leg over the other.  “Anyways. Why didn’t you order anything? Doesn’t all this smell so good to you?”

“I’ve had plenty to eat today, Garlord.  You have to remember I already went on the tour while you were sleeping.”

“Well, don’t you at least want something to drink?  You have to be thirsty after all that walking.”

“Yeah. Maybe I’ll get some water when the waitress comes back.”

“Water?  Wer’e in Tribantuan for the gods’ sake!” Garlord exclaimed with disbelief.  “Try the ale! Have some wine! Live it up a little, ‘Lea.”

“I’m fine,” she said with emphasis.

“Alright,” Garlord relented putting his hands up in surrender.  “But as for me, I’m going to try a mug of every kind of elvish ale they have.”

Enchantlea reached across the table and pat his hand in a patronizing manner.  “Ok, Garlord. You do that,” she said in her most sarcastic tone yet.

He gave her a confused look but did not pursue it further as the waitress returned at the moment with his order.  As she bent over to place it before the thief she quickly glanced in his direction. He caught it, and knowing he did, she smiled shyly and blushed again.

The smile was infectious and Garlord smiled back.  “Thank you,” he said with a half bow.

She pulled her tray tightly to her chest and bit her lip in an attempt to subdue her broad grin.  It ultimately failed and she quickly dropped into a curtsy before attending to the next customer.

When Garlord looked at Enchantlea again she rolled her eyes once more and said under her breath.  “Oh, for crying out loud.”

The aroma of the stew was so enticing Garlord could not be bothered to respond to his friend’s comment.  He grasped the spoon and buried it deep in the bowl. Coming up with a mixture of onions, carrots, peas and potatoes, he shoveled it into his mouth and ate it with tremendous satisfaction.

“’Lea, you gotta try this,” he insisted through a mouthful of food.

“I’m fine, thanks,” she repeated.  “Really, Garlord. I’m stuffed.”

Without looking up from the bowl he shrugged and brought another scoop to his mouth.  His right hand sought out the mug of ale and he lifted it to his lips, drinking it greedily.

Enchantlea observed this with a look that was a mixture of amusement and concern.

The thief set the mug down and wiped his mouth with his sleeve.  Pointing at the mug he said, “Now that is some great ale!”  He took another spoonful of stew and chased it with a swig of his drink.

Suddenly his shoulders slumped and face sagged.  Garlord felt his head roll and he felt as though the room were swaying back and forth.  Plopping his elbow on the table he let his head collapse into his hand. “Great Alexan,” he said with an exhale.  “I think I’m drunk.”

Now it was Enchantlea’s turn to cover her mouth in an attempt to stifle giggles.  “Now you know why I didn’t have anything.”

“Wow,” he continued.  His opened his eyes wide and furiously shook his head trying to clear out the cobwebs.  “This is unreal. Back in Lex Xaia I could stay out drinking mugs all night and walk a rope all the way home.”

Looking around he saw tables full of elves throwing back mugs of ale and draining glasses of wine with seemingly no effect.  “How can they do that?”

“Elves apparently cannot get drunk,” Enchantlea informed him.

The thief delivered three crisp smacks to his face and shook his head again.  “Why bother drinking then?”

She laughed.  “You should try the wine.   I had two tiny sips and I felt how you look.”

He picked up the mug, stared at its contents and then set it down and pushed it away.  “No more of that right now, but we gotta see if Tess can hook us up with some before we leave.”

Garlord finished his stew and pushed the empty bowl aside.  The waitress came and removed it from the table. As she turned to leave he motioned for her to wait a moment as he began digging into one of the pouches on his belt.  He produced a gold coin and held it out for her.

The waitress laughed.  “No, no,” she said, waving the coin off.  “Shu no gav’e rubilo.”  She then curtsied and left.

“I guess it’s on the house,” Garlord said with a shrug as he returned the coin to his pocket.

“Everything’s on the house, Garlord,” Enchantlea said.  “The food, the clothing, everything in the market. It’s all free.  The elves apparently don’t use money either.”

“So you just take what you want?  I love the elves!”