TemplarScribe's Blog: Writing, Musings and Occasional Inspiration

Currently the home of the daily updated saga, "Nivalldier, Captain of Discovery," the dwarven cleric whose task is to uncover whatever mystery the regent demands.

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Location: The Aisle of Mann, United States

I'm currently working on a TV pilot called "Silencers," that bridges the gap between science-fiction and urban drama. The story relies on actual events, coupled with state-of-the-art technology and chilling conspiracy theories, to paint an image of what may lie behind the thousands of sightings of the eerie half-human, half-alien meddlers we know as the "Men in Black." But if only some of the sightings can be attributed to government agents, who or what's behind the rest?

Saturday, March 20, 2010

I've decided to start posting daily updates to my series, "Nivalldier, Captain of Discovery." These are appearing on the website FewerThan500.com, since every story is 500 words or less (mine are exactly 499 words, each and every time). But since they only post weekly, I've decided to post my stories here daily.

So, as you take your daily commute, or put the tykes down for their afternoon nap, or you need that five minute break from your knucklehead boss and/or coworkers, here's a world you can disappear into, where the fight neither goes to the fastest nor the strongest, but to the smartest, and sometimes, to the trickiest.

Feel free to comment, and even make suggestions to the plotline and characters. Time and matter are mutable, you know.

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Nivalldier, Episode 01: Hiding In Plain Sight

The circular antechamber for the Great Temple of Aramis was a truly imposing sight. Two dozen carved marble statues of writhing, semi-nude humanoids poised like gods on a curved stone wall lining the interior. Their images drifted in the incense-filled haze of the late afternoon sun.

The reverence was broken by the grinding of the great outer doors, as they creaked open to admit, not a troop of Holy Perspirers nor a team of imposing Converters, but instead, a single bearded dwarf, armored like his myriad cousins, bearing no weapon but a ceremonial rod of purple-hued cedar ringed in gold. His steely gaze suggested he was not there to sample the more pleasant rituals the temple offered.

Waiting for him before the intricately carved settee of solid iridium, polished to an unnatural brilliance, was a human priest, his red-limned robe covering his entire frame, other than his folded hands and his hairless, serene face.

“Good Rising to you, Nivalldier,” said the priest, with just a hint of a smile.

“Greetings, Jeroff,” said the bearded dwarf, his gruff voice echoing in the chamber.

“And what innermost secrets would the Great Repository hold that might interest a Captain of Discovery?”

The dwarf aimed his rod at the human’s face. “Just this: I know you’re providing refuge to one of the Regent’s favorites. She’s broken numerous laws,” he paused, then said softer, “many in her own defense, I’ve no doubt.” His businesslike manner soon returned. “But she’s in possession of certain information that’s put her life in danger, as well as the safety of the Realm. I’m here to take her into protective custody.”

The priest blinked twice in surprise, a response the priest had rehearsed many times for this exact moment. “My old friend! You know it’s against the Ten Laws to withhold a suspect from the Inquisitors.”

The dwarf’s eyes narrowed. “You know I’m not with the Inquisitors, Jeroff! I’m trying to protect her from them!”

“Well, then,” the priest replied slowly, his practiced smile returning, “we have much in common.”

“I’m not playing games with you!” Nivalldier growled. “If you won’t hand her over to me, then my hands are tied. No weight of words, nor leeway for old time’s sake, will stay my hand.”

“There was a time, I recall,” the priest said, gazing up at the scantily clad statue of True Mercy, “that you swore your life in repayment of a certain service.”

The dwarf bit his lip, turning the purple baton over in his hand again and again. “I’m sorry for this, Jeroff. But that was long ago.”

The priest’s smile dropped at the corners. “Then the time for talking, my friend, is over.”

“You’re right,” Nivalldier said, leaning in close. “I’m through talking!”

The dwarf stormed out, stirring the wafting incense, swirling it around the two dozen statues.

Curling wisps of smoke rose up past the face of one particularly stunning female figure, whose nostrils twitched in a way most statues rarely did.

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