The Swordsman, The Witch, and The Demon
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He likewise could not keep from looking over the young lady looking at him. He surmised she was nineteen, or at least was in her late teens. She appeared to come from an ancestry of human, dark elf, and light elf. She was shorter than he was, and he could tell she was most likely thinner than he was as well. She had a dark complexion that stayed dark even in winter, and she had grown her raven black hair very long. Her attractive face was very elven. When he looked into her beautiful black eyes, he believed he was looking into the hearts of a couple of shadowy stars. He felt her black eyes were the wonderful gems that warrior poets fought epic battles just to see one more time again. He noticed a brilliant light coming from beneath her heather gray tunic. A slight breeze made her dark green cloak ripple. He had introduced himself, and he asked himself if she was going to tell him who she was. She tried to dispel the awkward silence, by smiling and giving a relieved-sounding laugh. "I want to thank you for slaying those ghouls for me. Your name is Vulthur? Is that it?" Vulthur also gave a relieved-sounding laugh. "There’s lots of ghouls roaming around the Mountainlands, mountain girl. When they get a penchant for what they call live flesh, that’s what makes them get hunted down and slain." "Well, I’m grateful you kept them from having me as a meal. And anyway, my name is not mountain girl." She paused to think for a moment. "My name is Deirdre, and I hail from Zuncthaer." "Pleased to meet you, Deirdre from Zuncthaer," Vulthur said. "You seem to have been wounded, Vulthur," Deirdre said, gesturing the puncture wound in his arm. He glanced down at the bloody tear in his cloak sleeve, before returning his gaze to her enchanting black eyes. "I think the bleeding’s stopped, Deirdre. Only thing’s that got me worried are the diseases that might’ve been on those ghouls." "I can heal you of those diseases," Deirdre promised. "I’m a lot better at healing than I am at illusions." "I thank you in advance, Deirdre," Vulthur said. "You are a healer?" "I am a River Witch," Deirdre answered. "We are healers, among other things." "Then it is very fortunate that we have met," Vulthur said. "I have one request about the healing, though." "What is it?" she asked. "I would like to be healed anywhere else but here," he explained. "There may be other ghouls nearby, and this cemetery is a place of death instead of healing." Deirdre gazed at the bodies of the slain ghouls. "I am in agreement with you about this place being a place of death instead of healing. We could probably travel together for a while. Where are you going?"
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About the Book
Recently exiled from his homeland of Somber Valley, Vulthur knew a power struggle plagued the Empire of Daliphour. But he soon learned that when the last archsorcerer was assassinated, an oracle book of great thaumaturgic power had been stolen. Listening to the promises of an ill-reputed sorcerer, Vulthur undertook the quest to find and retrieve the oracle book. With the help of a river witch named Deirdre, he would soon discover the importance of bringing the oracle book to the right hands. The sorcerers fighting the power struggle wanted it. The river witches needed it. The demon responsible for exiling Vulthur sought to obtain it. But, the banshee serving as the mind and spirit of the oracle book had her own wishes for the tome.
About the Author
Born in the state of Alabama, Roger E. Witte is a bibliophile of both the fantastic and the classical literature. He attended college in Alabama and in Utah, where he now resides. The Swordsman, The Witch, and The Demon is his first novel.