[Ferris]

Hegre watched the woman glide peacefully over the rolling fog carpet that stirred at his legs, her face hidden by a dark emerald robe that covered her from head to toe. Her hands, which wavered above her head in a dance of suggestive carnal inflame, were a soft silken powder of alabaster and cream. He watched as flashes of slender thigh and intimate curve of buttock darted from her swaying robe. His arms dropped to his sides, keen edged blade frosted and blunted in the cold air.

Her hips swayed and pulsed with flexes from her knees, the startling curve of her soft bosom teasingly revealing themselves in the writhing dance unfolding before him. Lips slightly parted, softly slipping the robe from over one shoulder, tantalizingly near to showing one tight, flowered nipple, she flashed a smile, the robes seemingly as one with her soft skin.

Soon, should she choose him for such a secret, all that man feared would be revealed to him. Like a child receiving a gift from it's parents, Hegre unveiled her soft form in the eye of his mind, disrobing her slowly, yet so fast that his mind played tricks with his eyes.

Eyes closed, she drifted forwards, one arm stretched before and after her slender figure, the robe pressed smooth over her chest and thighs, revealing all but color and definition to his weary eyes. Slipping his helm off, he dropping it to the floor with a muted, silent grace, and pressed his blade into the earth before him, driving it with a gentle firmness.

Lovingly, he caressed her outstretched hand with his own, the cold harsh reality of steel against the manly incitations of her tenderness. He knelt on one knee, both hands clasping the earthed sword before him. Lowering his head, she whispered into his ear.

"What is it that you seek, lover?" He had no need to answer, "Is it the truth of the emblazoned future, the fruit of your loins on the world, or perhaps the truth to wealth before those men who have taken it and abuse it?"

He shook his head, eyes still sealed tight. She knew what it was he was after, yet it was wise to keep his mouth shut until she had finished. She had knelt before him, everything up to her thighs visible to him as he flicked open curious eyelids.

"Oh you poor soul, you seek something far more important. In truth, you are perhaps the first to be so honest with your request... certainly the least selfish... but what, I suppose, would you do with the knowledge you seek?" She stood tall, her softness pushing against the crown of his head. He bit back the urge to take her firm hips in his arms and kiss her from navel to lips. Either direction, he felt both would suffice.

"I wish to look upon and into your eyes, goddess. The world we had both known is shifting in time and space, gods have come and gone, man has settled with one such deity. We have fought for him in lands as dry as the sun, whose people are dark skinned and black bearded. They keep their women covered from head to toe in black robes, and pray to a god who incites them crush all of the Christian world."

He sighed before continuing.

"The old gods are dead, or dying in slow long strokes of the executioners axe. They are poised with neck to block and wait for their turn. The world has forgotten the old ways, and the deities of yore are struggling to bite back one last time. Even now, the city I reside in is under the assault from the amorous aggressions of the dark tanned men. The God my people pray to seems to have abandoned us, I have never forgotten the old ones... but now it seems I am a desperate man with words that bleat out in desperation!"

There seemed only silence from the woman, whose very being radiated a smile larger than the sun. No mischief passed over her sublime face however, for the world was in need of a caress from the ancient world. Hegre had started to weep at his desperation, his soul drifting into the abyss at which all men proverbially edge upon. Compassion flared in the woman's eyes, her lovely limbs twisted as she lifted the weary knight to his feet, tilting his chin up to see his face. His eyes remained firmly shut.

"Hegre, puppet for the gods, listen to my words and gain insight to all men's, when you open your eyes, gaze into mine and see the world as it truly is... when both have been done, and your soul remains intact, take me in your arms and see to me like you would a wife long missed. Throw your soul to the winds and sleep beside me. Take me and have that which man has forgotten in his blind faith to interloping beings."

So, listening to her words, Hegre lifted heavy eye lids, seeing that the eyes of the woman were a vibrant green, speckled around the pupil with what seemed minute oak leaves. Her skin was pale, but not sickly, her long straight hair a hazel red, which rested down by her naval. She had allowed for the robe from her shoulders to slip, revealing all her womanly opulence.

Stifling a gasp, Hegre took from his chest the weighted chain and plates of steel to undress down to his under gown. From there, the woman slipped one hand forwards loosening the ivory gown from the front.

Though he had slept with a woman before, he found it hard to incite himself simply for the pleasure of this woman... life had been drilled into him, behavior was paramount in the service of god. Religion, which had hold of his desires, was seeping away like a leaf on the rivers edge. Discipline, so long driven into him, was like butter on the searing roast. It was pulling him, the urge to take this woman and the fight for the religious front.

A duty to defend the holy lands was blurred with the needs of a man. She seemed to understand. Trailing her long soft hair over his chest and face, gently pushing her lips to his skin, caressing light kisses flickered down his chest.

He gripped her by the hips, slipped them both to the cold floor and ripped the garments from them both.

Reality restored, Hegre looked up from where he had knelt, casting his gaze over the war torn farmlands before him. They smoldered with a pent up rage, fueled by the righteous faiths that had divided them. The tumultuous battle raged around him, but like the paragon of hope, he was not struck, nor faced by adversary or friend.

His war, the war for the purity of mankind, had just begun.

[Venomous Vixen]

Very enchanting tale! Your descriptions are anything but lacking, I had some great images swirling around in my head with this one. The capture of lust and animal need was incredible... as was tying all of that into much bigger things. Is this to be continued? I hope so it is a great start!

[Ferris]

Why thank you!

Come on people, what does it take to get some more feed back around here?! Stop PM'ing me for comments and start returning the favor!

[Venomous Vixen]

hey hey now, you never answered if this was a chapter one (*crosses fingers*)

[Ferris]

No, it aint chapter one... I guess you could call it a prologue.

I'm not too sure where to start chapter one though, I was thinking of taking it back a little bit, maybe before the meeting and starting with Hegre being the slave to a church that he is/was... hmm...

I'd prefer to keep the whole thing quite short and expand later if I get positive feedback. I think I'm getting writers block with this one. Any suggestions?

This is supposed to be low fantasy/spiritual stuff for now.

Just where to start..?

[Lubesh]

Beginning or not.that was a sheer joy to read and as fluid and dreamlike as the fog and opening, which sprawled effortlessly all the way down the page....amazing!

[Ferris]

Wow, thanks for that (well timed I'm sure) comment. I'm not seeing much criticism though...

[~HorseHeart~]

It.....was.....totally........ .awesome makes me feel bad 'bout my stories i get writers block halfway through the first page for you to create thisit almost seems like your a profesional author with like dozens of award winning books!!!!

[psrey]

This is really nice in the sense that it has a wonderful fantasy feel about it. I like it when a piece has a very strong flavor, and this is definitely an excellent example.

My one very tiny gripe would be concerning the dialogue: your characters speak in very large chunks. But then again, you're writing a story in which we should suspend our disbelief, and so I will do so very cheerfully.

I think your opening paragraphs have a very powerful, lyrical quality.

This actually kind of reminds me of Anne Bishop's writing. Very carnal, but full of people who are very jaded from all of their sexual encounters.

If you would like a piece of criticism, let it be this: Be careful that your writing does not get too cliched... in high fantasy, it's almost inevitable, so hold out as long as you can. Beware of the fruit-of-the-loins stuff, the abysses and the tumultuous battles etc.

Keep it up!

[Ferris]

Hmm... I think you're right there psrey.

They do sound a little bit 'cheesey'. I will rethink this one and make some changes.

Is there anything stopping me from adding a few chunks to this one, or would it be best to just post a new section and link them together?

Horseheart, I get what you're saying! lol You didn't have to post again!

One question though, does it look/feel/sound like high or low fantasy to you? It is set in medieval times, so I was wondering what made you think what you did?

[DarkPower]

Ok now thats what I call cruel, I am in love with it. I personally think you should write more and then send it to me in book for so I can curl up in my bed and read it.

The reason I liked it is because you wrote with a lot of passion and if its anything I can appreciate that in a story. I would have to say its pretty good in the fantasy sense, it has all the elements of course. I look forward to reading more from you.

[wave1345]

I like it! Here are some nitpicky things I noticed. In general, I might go back and pull an adjective from each paragraph, as I noticed you used quite a lot of them.

You wrote: "...her face hidden by a dark, almost black, green cowled robe that..."
Suggestion: It's kind of awkward to read "almost black" and then "green". I might reword it to something like "Green cowled robe so dark it was almost black..." or something to avoid the "black, green" thing.

You wrote: "...Slipping his helm off and dropping it to the floor with a silent grace..."
Suggestion: I'm not sure if "silent grace" is describing his movements to remove his helmet, or that he somehow dropped his helmet and it hit the ground silently.

You wrote: "...Dragging her long soft hair over his chest and face..."
Suggestion: "Dragging" seems to be a bit harsh of an adjective for the action, at least as I see it. It doesn't feel like a description of soft hair tickling over him, which is how I see what is happening.

[Ferris]

Thank you! That is exactly what I needed, wave1345.

I think you are right, it did seem awkward in those places, I just could not see it, but certainly felt it.

I'm beginning to like this idea for a story more and more. If any of you have ever heard of Loreena McKennit, then I suggest you listen to 'Mystics Dream' and 'Old Ways' since they have been my inspiration. Not sure why, they have nothing to do with Crusades or Fantasy...

If anyone has any suggestions on how to develop plot, please let me know, I'm in need of some guidance in that department!

[jerH]

You're single-handedly responsible for my paying more attention to the "fantasy" forum now, you know.

It's funny that you mentioned Loreena McKennit as that's exactly what I was thinking of as I read this. Your descriptions are very evocative of exactly that kind of setting, so well done there.

I agree with the earlier comment about the cloak, and I'd offer a few other nits

the starting curve of her soft bosom teasingly revealing themselves

The word "starting" seems appropriate, but also awkward. When I first read it, my mind actually saw "startling" which I thought was such a great description it deserved a second look...whereupon I caught my own error.

Lovingly, he caressed her outstretched hand with his own, the cold harsh reality of steel against the manly incitations of her tenderness. He knelt on one knee, both hands clasping the earthed sword before him

When I read that the first time I thought, "How can he be caressing her hand if he has both of his clasping his sword?" Obviously I'm an idiot and he simply released her hand when he knelt. But you might have an opportunity there for him to express a reluctance to break the contact.

Like I said, nits.

I'll try to give some thought to possible directions to go from here. You posted this a while ago so you may well have continued already!

[RENA HANDS]

Eyes closed, she drifts forward, or

Eyes closed, she drifted forward,

Should it not be “abused?”

…or perhaps the truth to wealth before those men who have taken it and abused it?”

Is it not “rivers’ edge” or “river’s edge?”

I am confused with this sentence…

Hegre, puppet for the gods, listen to my words and gain insight to all men’s,

(what is the insight?)

I loved the entire story; the action, the vocabulary were simply superb.

[wisewun]

Your story is very well written. I noticed one or two grammatical errors, but besides that i really enjoyed your writting. I didn't expect the end of your story either. With that being said, i'm looking forward to read more of your work.