Writing: how to deal with cold iron

As myths of elves go, they are vulnerable to cold iron.  They can be trapped by it, their magic nullified by it.  Which itself became a problem for having two elves wield pistols.  Technically, pistols are made with cold iron.  So it would be difficult to have Shani and Pania use pistols.  There had to be a way around this.

Enter elven steel and mithril.

On Shani and Pania’s home world, I determined that elven steel and mithril could be as common as copper on Earth.  And it would make sense that those who had weapons or armour that required such metals, would carry a brick or two of each on their person in order to make repairs.  Considering that the elves live a long time, a brick might last them close to one hundred years.  That’s even taking into account how durable elven steel and mithril is.

So, Shani will have a pair of custom made Colt 45 long barrels crafted using elven steel and mithril.  In this original world of Terra-Kal, elven steel and mithril are two different metals.  So, in order for Shani and Pania to get such pistols, they have to go to a gunsmith to order them.  Such a part of the story has been written.

Artemis Thackery Gunsmith, Repair and Ammunition. The shop was in the middle of town and was the tallest building in town, next to the clock tower in the town square. The proprietor, one Artemis Thackery, was an older gentleman who had an affinity for fine pistols. He made a decent living with his trade, as many around the area took up his services. But what he was about to encounter would be a first even for him. Never during his forty years of crafting pistols had anyone ever made such a request. So when the small woman with the shoulder lizard walked into his shop along with Clayton Johnson, he was rather taken aback by her request.

“Miss,” he said slowly. “You understand the only other metals that I use in crafting a pistol are silver. And that only for the handle, to give it a rather dignified look. That is only about aesthetics  not the actual functionality of the pistol itself.” Artemis spoke in a soft tone, which betrayed his origins. He was most likely born in New York and moved to Arkansas in the last ten years or so.

“I am way ‘head o’ ya, sir,” Shani said as she lifted her ruck sack and took out a brick of mithril and a brick of elven steel. “This here is mithril, an’ this one is… light steel.” She pause and gave the metal a more commonly associated name, because the fewer questions the better.

“Metals ‘re light,” Clayton explained. “Which’d give Shan here a better grip.”

“Light metals aren’t good for crafting a pistol,” Artemis argued. “The pistol could destroy itself the first time it was fired.”

Shani held up a hand to draw Artemis attention to her. She reached into her coat and took out one of her short swords, twirled it as she was often known to do, and held it out for Artemis to examine. “The blade is made with light steel. Strong an’ sturdy,” she said tapping on the blade. “An’ real light. This could cut through steel, if need be. An’ the handle is made from mithril, with a leather bindin’ for a good grip.” She held the blade out for Artemis to examine closer. He held the blade carefully in his hands, marvelling at the craftmanship.

“It’s so light,” he said as he tilted his glasses down on his nose. “And I can tell it’s very strong. Something like this would make a fine pistol.” He looked up to Shani with a hint of dejection as he went on. “But one must have the proper foreknowledge of such metals. I just can’t use this and expect it to act the same as steel. What about melting temperatures? The malleability of the steel itself…”

Again, Shani held up a hand and reached into her ruck sack. She produced a small book, her own writings that she had transcribed the previous night at Clayton’s cabin. The pair had obviously prepared for everything. Shani knew the proper temperatures and how much flame to use in crafting the weapon she needed. “This here will explain alla thet,” she said as she handed him the book.

Artemis flipped through the pages and skimmed each passage, nodding as he began to understand the science that was being described. “It will take me a couple of days to have them ready,” he said as he put the book down and looked to Shani. “It won’t be cheap, however.”

“How much we talkin’?” Shani asked as she leaned over the counter.

“Well, something this complex will take care and time,” he said. “Most usually want their pistols the next day, but something like this will need attention. I can craft something which will be akin to a Colt 45 long barrel for you. Which usually run about one hundred and fifty dollars. Using this odd metal… have to add in fifty dollars. And some of your rather… intriquate designes you’ve drawn for the pistol grips,” he said as he motioned to Shani’s hand drawn designs. “That will cost an additional fifty. Double that price for two pistols.”

Shani was busily counting her cash behind the counter, then looked up to Artemis. “What if I were ta add two more bricks o’ light steel fer yer own purposes?”

Artemis looked to Shani for a brief moment, then turned his attention to the brick of elven steel that lay on his counter. It felt like steel, and looked like the brick would have heft to it, but when he picked it up, it felt as light as a feather. “You have two more bricks of this?” he asked. Shani replied with a firm nod. “Payment in advance?”

“Deal,” Shani said with another firm nod.

“You come by the day after tomorrow, Miss,” Artemis said as Shani handed him the cash and two extra bricks of elven steel. “And you shall have two of the finest Colt 45 long barrels ever crafted.”

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November 6, 2012 | Categories: Black Mask and Pale Rider, Writing | Tags: Black Mask & Pale Rider, fantasy, NaNoWriMo, western, Writing | 1 Comment »

Writing: Pania Alow’s influences

Yesterday, it was Shani I posted the influences of.  Today it’s Pania Alow.

Pania Alow also has a lot of influences, but not in the same aspect as Shani does.

Pania is adventurous, a tad odd and will often spout long soliloquies without warning (much to the chagrin of Shani).  And Jack Sparrow (sorry, “Captain” Jack Sparrow) fits the bill.  Johnny Depp’s portrayal of Sparrow pretty much fit the bill for what Pania’s attitude is like.

Granted, she’s got a bit better hygiene.

This isn’t so much an influence of Pania’s attitude, but a sample of her fighting style.  To pick one would be an injustice to the other.  Because Pania is a sword singer, and she has studied the bladed arts for years.  Much like Westley and Inigo Montoya in The Princess Bride.

Black Mask & Pale Rider is a western at it’s core, but there’s room for a duelist the likes of Pania Alow in the story.

The last influence for Pania Alow.

And no, it’s not Hugh Jackman as Van Helsing.  This is where I suddenly began seeing Kate Beckinsale as Pania Alow.

Beckingsale plays Anna, the last of a noble house who is plagued by Dracula’s curse.  She is fighting to end that curse.  Which is a quality Pania holds.  She doesn’t back down unless everything is lost.

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November 5, 2012 | Categories: Black Mask and Pale Rider, Writing | Tags: Black Mask & Pale Rider, fantasy, NaNoWriMo, western, Writing | 2 Comments »

Writing: Day four total

I could write more, but I’m happy with my total thus far.  I’m currently on track to hit 50,000 words on November 17.  I know I won’t because there will be some days that I’ll only write a small amount, and then there will be days like today where I wrote close to 8,000 words.  But today’s total happens to be 11,455.

And so, as a small congratulations, I offer one piece of what I’ve written.  The story of Scales and how he came to stay with Shani.

As soon as Clayton managed to get out of Shani what some of her favourite foods were, and avoiding anything that he didn’t have on hand, he set about to cooking up something simple.  Hash browns, some sausage, butter toast and a few fresh vegetables from his garden in back of his cabin.  He noticed Scales watching him closely, making note to himself how much like a cat the tiny dragon was.  Everyonce and a while, he’d cut up a fresh piece of food, sometimes a potatoe, sometimes a sausage, and offer it to the small dragon.  Scales approved of the sausage, but wasn’t too pleased with the slice of potatoe.  Clayton figured it out once Shani told him what he really liked.

“He’s partial ta apples,” Shani said as she reached for her ruck sack, rummaged around a bit and pulled out an apple.  Scales perked up as he saw the red fruit and settled in beside Shani as she cut it up.

“Ya know somethin’,” Clayton said as he served up the meal on two separate plates.  ”He reminds me o’ a cat.  A lady in town that I did some work for, built a huge bookcase for her, she had a cat.  Acted lot like he did.”  He set both plates down, one in front of Shani, the other at his own seat.  Scales was happily munching on a piece of apple, holding it in his foreclaws tightly.  ”So where did ya find him?”

“I found him ’bout ten years ‘go,” Shani said, finding it much easier and more comfortable to speak with Clayton.  Her stutter had all but vanished, but Clayton noticed she was trying very hard to sound like him.  ”I was on the Merchant Road, what goes from Stonebridge ta Overbrooke.  An’ ’bout half way there, I found a caravan been attacked by brigands.”  She mentioned places like Clayton would know them, and to be polite he nodded and listened to her story.  They had to exist, after all.  Because she existed, she was an elf.  Who had a tiny dragon as a companion.  ”So I took it ‘pon myself ta track down the brigands.  They did a nasty job, stole everythin’, killed everyone.  It was an ol’ wizard who was well known.  I reported it ta the Patrollers… thet’d be like yer sherrif… an’ said I’m gonna track ‘em down.”  She paused to take a bite of food before continuing.  ”Most time, brigands ’round thet area get away ’cause nobody can find ‘em.  But I have experience in trackin’, an I hunted ‘em down an’ found their hideout.  They had a ton o’ stuff there; gold, jewels, parchment, some items o’ rare antiquity.  I made a few marks an’ got a small group o’ Patrollers ta follow me, an’ we got the jump on ‘em.”

“Was there a fight?” Clayton asked, actually quite enthralled with Shani’s story.

“Hell no,” she said with a smirk and shook her head.  ”Them ones never even put up a fight once they seen ten heavily armed Patrollers with long blades, flintlocks an’ blunderbus at the ready.  I stuck ’round ta sort out through all o’ the items an’ I found him,” she said as she motioned to Scales.  The tiny dragon had his head propped up on Shani’s right arm, and she reached over and tickled his neck lightly.  He nipped playfully at her, then rolled over as Shani scratched as his belly.  ”They had ‘im locked up in a cage, so I opened it an’ set ‘im free.  He crawled right up my arm an’ sat right on my shoulder.  After a while, ’cause the wizard for whom he was a familiar was dead, it were decided I’d take care o’ him.”  She chuckled as Scales began playing grabby with her fingers as she scratched his belly.  ”We been together ever since.”

“Well, I ain’t never had anything like him b’fore,” Clayton said as he shook his head and smiled at the attention Shani gave the tiny dragon.

“You got yer horse.”

“Not really the same,” Clayton replied.  ”I doubt he’d react the same to a belly rub as he would.”

“I’d like ta get me a horse,” Shani said with a firm nod.  ”An’ maybe some clothes ta fit in a bit better ’round here.  I kinda stick out like a sore thumb.”

“Well, yer gonna need money,” Claytons said as he finished up his plate.  ”I don’t know what y’all use back where you come from, but here it’s dollars.”

Shani reached down to her ruck sask and pulled up a large coin purse.  It rattled and clinked as she lifted it up.  There was something valuable in there, and whatever it was, Shani had a lot of it.  She opened up the purse and let Clayton look inside.  There was several coins, all gold, pure gold, sitting strewn about in her purse.  He looked up to Shani and nodded slowly.  ”T’morrow, we’ll get you some new clothes an’ a new horse.  I think you got more ‘n ‘nough.”

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November 4, 2012 | Categories: Black Mask and Pale Rider, Writing | Tags: Black Mask & Pale Rider, fantasy, NaNoWriMo, western, Writing | 1 Comment »

Writing: A sample and a difficult word

I had mentioned that there was something very difficult that I would write in this version of Black Mask & Pale Rider.  It has something to do with a word, a very commonly known word which has a history of oppression.  I have been debating over it’s use for some time, mostly because I don’t like it’s tone.  So, I went and asked someone about whether it was good to use or not.  She, who used to be on tumblr as squee-to-the-gee, said as long as it’s conveyed how Shani hears the word, and her reaction, then it’s fine.  It’s true, literature shouldn’t just entertain, but it should also teach.  And it was, is my hope that the word is found to be as vile now as I am hoping to make it.  For critique I present the scene here for everyone.  Comments are most welcome, especially considering how the word in used.

To those that are unclear, it’s the N-word.

Shani strode down the street in her usual way; slow and steady steps, her eyes watching everyone.  It felt different, wearing these denim slacks and the leather boots complete with the long coat that might have seemed a bit too warm for the weather during summer.  She took note of the passersby who stared in her direction, knowing they weren’t just looking at her, but to the tiny dragon that perched upon her shoulder.  Scales seemed happy and content, his tiny claws gripping to the leather of her long coat.  He was her second eyes, as he would watch what she couldn’t see, often nuzzling his head against Shani’s cheek in a manner that would draw her attention to what Scales would see, but also in a way that showed affection.  Scales liked her, to him she was like his mother.  And as Shani protected him, he would protect her.

Such as he was doing now.

For the most part, Shani found the people of this world odd, different, but not necessarily threatening.  Oh, to be certain, they were no more threatening, but Shani had revealed she was able to pay for certain things, and she could do work, so her reputation within this town called Carrollton was not one of a negative nature.  However, she had shown she held gold, and to many, that was like a fly to honey.  It would always draw the worst.

As Shani looked for supplies, going from shop to shop, buying what she needed from a list that Clayton had given her, she was aware that she was being followed.  Four young men, all of whom looked surly and rough, she assumed they had been on the trail for a while, that they had lived a life of violence.  But she also felt they would not do anything while she was engaged in matters of commerce.  For the most part, she was right.  They left her alone, looking idly over items that the different merchants and vendors had for sale.

In a way, it was no different than the markets back in Stonebridge where Shani grew up.  Granted, there were a lot less elves who carried pistols.  To be honest, none carried pistols.  There were flintlocks, but not the weapons that Shani carried now.  As she made her purchases, she thought of the differences between this world and her own, wondering if the other lands were as diverse as on her own home world.

She finished her purchases, gatheirng everything that had been on Clayton’s list, filling everything into a ruck sack, and slinging it onto her shoulder.  It was time to head out of town, which meant she had to find her horse at the stable where she left him, pay the owner for his care, and ride back to Clayton’s cabin just out of town.

As she approached the stables, she realized that the men who had been following her, had doubled back.  They were already at the stables, and they had Gippsum, her faithful mount, out of his stall.  She stopped and watched the four men careful, gently letting her ruck sack down onto the ground at her feet.  Scales dug in his claws into Shani’s long coat, his wings spreading a bit as he hissed toward the four men.  He did not like them, and Shani felt the same.

“Howdy, boys,” Shani said in a congenial fashion as she tipped her hat.  Best to be friendly, maybe they’d leave her be.  ”Mighty nice o’ ya ta get my horse fer me.”

“Well, we just wanna be neighbourly,” one of the men said with a grin, his teeth grey and blackened from years of neglect.  A surprise, seeing how he appeared to be no more than twenty years old.  ”We are sorta like the welcomin’ committee in this here town.”

“Really,” Shani replied with a nod.  ”I thought thet was the sherrif, as Clayton done tol’ me.”

“I wouldn’t trust nothin’ that nigger says,” one of the other men said in response.  Shani looked to him, slightly younger than the first man who spoke.  But there was malice in his eyes.  Even Scales could see it, and he crawled along Shani’s shoulders to hiss at the man in question.  Scales felt an uneasiness about him, as did Shani.  But it was a word that the man said that truly set Shani on edge.  ”Yer lizard is actin’ mighy queer,” the man noted as he seemed to back up a bit.

“Scales ain’t real trustin’ o’ strangers,” Shani informed him.  ”An’ he ain’t a lizard.  He’s a pseudo dragon.”

The four men laughed hearing the word.  ”Dragon,” one of the others said aloud.  ”I thought they were bigger ‘n thet little thing.”

“I said pseudo dragon,” Shani corrected him.  ”But the nature o’ my friend here an’ the words ta describe him ain’t so much as what I’m really concerned with.   Y’all used somethin’ which I believe ya use ta describe ‘nother friend o’ mine.”  The four men just watched Shani for a moment, not really understanding what she meant.  She sighed, but held a firm look in the direction of the man who first spoke.  He seemed to be the leader of this small gang.  ”I b’lieve the word ya used was ‘nigger’.  An’ ta be honest, I don’t really like the tone in yer voice when ya use thet word.  I know who ya meant when ya said it, an’ I have come ta know Clayton.  He is a decent man, an’ I would vouch fer his character any day.  An’ I do not like the way y’all address him.”

“He’s just a darkie who…” the first man was about to say, but stopped as he was suddenly staring at the business end of one of Shani’s Colts.  They had heard about these guns, who they were constructed of a steel no one had ever seen before.  And how this woman was able to wield them with such grace and ferocity.  ”Hey now,” the man said as he held up his hands, worry starting to crease his brow.  ”No need ta get twitchy.”

“Ya wanna see me git twitchy, then ya jist say ‘nother disparagin’ word ‘gainst my friend,” Shani replied through gritted teeth.  Even Scales grew more bold, gripping his claws into Shani’s jacket, wings pressed against his back as his tail swished back and forth as though he were ready to pounce on his prey.  ”I would take it as a kindness thet ya never use thet word ’round me ‘gain.  Do I make myself clear?”

“You wouldn’t be able ta stop all o’ us,” one of the men said as he pointed to Shani’s pistol.

Shani said not a word as she stared the man down, watching him carefully.  He didn’t move a muscle.  He didn’t have to, because Scales was watching someone else, and he gave a low growl in the back of his throat to warn Shani.  She moved fast, drawing her second Colt and aiming without even looking.  She fired and hit the mark perfectly, sending the would be assassin’s pistol flying from his hand.  The action caused a stir, and the other gunmen reached for their pistols.  The next few seconds were a blur of bullets and fire, but no shot came from the four gunmen at all.  Shani, and to a point Scales, had disarmed them without breaking a sweat.  The elven gunslinger had turned with each sound of a drawn pistol or the click of a hammer, and with lightning reflexes she fired at the sound.  Scales puffed himself up and shot a breath of flame toward the would be gunmen, distracting them to give Shani the chance to act before they could fire.  In a matter of seconds it was all over.  The most important thing, no one was dead.

Shani walked up to the first man who spoke to her that afternoon.  He lay on the ground, clutching his gunhand as blood ran down his wrist.  Shani had fired straight through his palm.  She stood over him and said in a voice that was filled with anger.  ”Let this be a lesson ta you boys.  Never think thet ya got a drop on someone smaller ‘n you.  ’Cause I ain’t stupid, yer actions were ta rob me.  I’ve taken down varmints ten times yer ability without breakin’ a sweat, so y’all ain’t nuthin’ in my eyes.”  She adjusted her hat and walked to her horse as she continued to speak, this time to all four men.  A crowd had gathered in the area, and was watching and listening.  ”An’ I will take it as a kindness thet all o’ you boys don’t ever use thet word again.  Ta anyone.  I may be new ta this here world, but I ain’t stupid when it comes ta knowin’ the spite thet sits in a slur.  I know words can cut jist as deep as any blade.  So this here is yer warnin’ boys.  I don’t take kindly ta slurs.  An’ I don’t take kindly ta them bein’ used on my friends.”

Shani nudged Gippsum forward after she rose into the saddle, but she found she could only move a few feet as there were three more men impeding her path.  These men, however, wore tin stars.

“Ma’am,” one of the men called out, one of the sherrif’s deputies.  He wore his guns up to his waist, crossed so his opposite hand could grab from the opposite waist line, much like a swordsman would carry his blade on his left hip so his right hand could draw it.  ”I am gonna have ta ask that you come with us.”

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November 3, 2012 | Categories: Black Mask and Pale Rider, Writing | Tags: Black Mask & Pale Rider, fantasy, NaNoWriMo, western, Writing | 5 Comments »

Writing: A long plan ahead

The first book of Black Mask & Pale Rider was all the adventures of the two elven gunslingers in one long form story.

This time, however, it’s going to get longer.  This is how I’ve planned it.

Black Mask & Pale Rider: A Tale of Six Gun & Sorcery

The tale of how Shani and Pania encountered this world in 1863 and how they became the feared gunslingers Black Mask & Pale Rider.

Black Mask & Pale Rider: Road to Perdition

After joining forces, the two gunslingers encounter an old Pennsylvania Dutch community plagued by a vampire nest.  But this nest has a connection to the two elves.  Assisted by Deter Van Buren, the three go on the hunt for the vampire mistress.

Black Mask & Pale Rider: The Ghost Rider

In Franklin, West Virginia, Shani and Pania find the town has encountered an elf before, one who lived his last days in the town.  That elf, and the sudden appearance of Shani and Pania in Franklin, draws a formidable opponent.  They receive help from Marshal Martin Derringer, who has a dark secret of his own.

Black Mask & Pale Rider: Don’t Let the Hag Ride Ya

Shani and Pania end up staying over in a small town near Charlotte, South Carolina.  The town’s residents are plagued by something akin to a vampire, but much worse.

Black Mask & Pale Rider: High Noon

No magic or great evil, save for a rich cattleman who delights in his own brand of justice.  Shani and Pania meet up with Johnathon Caleb Walker and the mysterious Chinese immigrant Ming and help them take down Dorval.

Black Mask & Pale Rider: The Dead Will Walk

Arriving in Shreveport, Louisiana, Shani makes the snap decision to buy a slave in order to give him his freedom.  It turns out Ezekiel Morgan is a helping hand when Shani and Pania have to deal with plantation owner Jeremiah Kingston the Third.

Black Mask & Pale Rider: Rise of the Lich King

While Shani and Pania have been making their way across the States, they’ve been watched from afar.  A bounty is put on their heads, and the first to try and claim it is an old gunhand who found a way to cheat death.  In Bloomington, Indiana, Shani and Pania meet up again with Aurela Dorchester and Slowhand Johnson.

Black Mask & Pale Rider: Long Train A Comin’

Taking place entirely on a train as it travels from Gary, Indiana to Thief River Falls, Minnesota, Shani and Pania meet up with the Reverend Carter Stewart.  The three soon find out that the vampire they met earlier in Pennsylvania doesn’t die easily.

Black Mask & Pale Rider: Aces & Eights

Shani and Pania take a back seat in this tale, with their only showing coming in a vicious gun fight with Captain Samuel Williams who has been chasing after them.  It’s feared Shani and Pania are dead, and Carter Stewart joins forces with Slowhand, Aurela, Derringer, Walker, Cassidy del Ray, Ming, van Buren and Morgan in order to find out what happened to them.  It’s much more than they bargained for.

Black Mask & Pale Rider: Eternity

Pania, injured from the gun battle by a demon spawn, is dragged to safety by Shani.  But the lanky gunslinger can’t do much until they are found by hunters from Whitecap’s Dakota tribe not far away.

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November 2, 2012 | Categories: Black Mask and Pale Rider, Writing | Tags: Black Mask & Pale Rider, fantasy, NaNoWriMo, western, Writing | 7 Comments »