Have a holly jolly Christmas!

Christmas is a of time giving, a time of spending the day with loved ones and family rejoicing in the joys of love, caring, and well... family.

I am 8000 miles away from most of that this year, but oddly I am far closer to most than I have ever been.  2010 has been a pretty crazy year.  It has seen my life pretty much collapse, but it also saw me say "enough" and fight back and believe in myself like I never have before.

While I have many many challenges ahead of me, I can always look back at 2010 as the year I busted my hump and moved to Dubai to work for a company I very much enjoy working for.  I love the people I work with (even when I am incredibly frustrated with them), I feel a kinship with my fellow manager team (though I wish we could all spend more time together) and despite the difficulties of getting stuff done in this very well disguised third world country, I am very proud of my accomplishments this year.

To my friends back home, Steve, Tony, John, Shawn, Dejah, Crystal, Richard, and Kermit.  Thank you guys, you are are closer to me in many ways than my actual family.  I have known most of you my entire life, and no matter where our lives may take us, you will always be my dearest friends.

To my TC Chang Bangers past and present.  Dirty, The Juice, Christina, Erin, Livi, Daniel, BC, Lisa, Amanda, D-wreck, Jacob, Kevin, Melissa, Matt, Davis, Heather, Marrisa, Corey, Jace, Sibio and the others I have spent time with over the last year.  Thank you dearly.  While I do not know you as well as my childhood friends, some of us have shared some pretty wild experiences, seeing each other at the best and worst of our lives.  When I get back to town, you can be assured that I will take a few of us out for drinks at Sam's with at least one round on me.

A thanks goes out to my new friends here in Dubai.  There are alot of you, mostly people I work with but I despite the difficulty in finding someplace to live, I have never felt more welcomed and at home.  I am going to be here a while, and knowing I have such awesome friends makes me smile, and makes work fun too!

To my long distance friends from the last year.  Cassie and Aya, you two have been ... probably the best friends anyone could ever have that they have never shaken hands with or given a hug.  Both that I hope to someday rectify.  Thank you.

To my son, his mother and his half sisters.  I miss all of you... I am so happy you have a good family, and I wish I could be there more to see you all grow up.  Tristan, you are my little big man, and there has never been a man more brave, courageous and heroic than you.  I have taken inspiration from you in this last year and decided to fight even when everyone said it could not be done.  Thank you.

To Jake.  My head shrinker.  I know you will not read this blog, but you were in the right place at the right time.  I still remember how crestfallen you looked during my second visit when I told you I had been dumped the night before.  I laugh about it now, it seems like a lifetime ago.  You listened when I needed to be listened to, and made me think in ways that did not insult my heart, or intelligence.  While I may not be a religious man, and in any other situation I would not have continued to see you ... I did.  And I thank you.

To Jessica.  I am sorry that things turned out the way they did.  And while it may be a wound that never heals, I have only ever wanted you to be happy.  And while it stings my heart, and my pride.  I wish you the best, and a bright future in whatever you seek to accomplish.  If anything, that was a promise I always kept... I always believed in you.

To my dad.  You are both the strongest, and weakest man I have ever known.  I have idolized you my entire life, and sought to live my life to an example to make you proud.  I have never been happy with what I have become, but now... I am.  I am proud of what I have accomplished, and underneath that gruff, unfeeling exterior that I emulated so well for decades, I know you are proud of me.  I love you dad.

In times past I would have told myself that I accomplished everything on my own through force of will, determination, grit, talent and skill.  And while a lot of my accomplishments can be attributed to that it was all of you that helped make it possible.  I spent my entire life isolating myself, fearing what would happen if I opened up, because of how I was burned each time I trusted...  I lived a hollow existence for a very long time, and I have sought to change that and make connections with the people I care about.  It has been very difficult, especially in a far away land where I am very isolated, but I draw strength from my belief in myself, and all of you.

While I am spending Xmas by myself again this year, I am not alone.  I want all of you to have a wonderful Christmas, spend time with your families, loved ones and friends.  Give a toast to them, and maybe one to me.  Someday I will return the favor.

Love
Dale

Excerpt from Chapter 4

Happy Holidays everyone, this will be my early Xmas present to everyone!  Who wants to read an actual action scene.

Again, rough draft!

Excerpt Chapter 4

   The figure was a giant standing above the Kantoran troops on a small hillock, the mid afternoon sun setting behind him through a layer of dense pine trees. The effect made the man look like a giant of legend, wielding a two bladed axe. It was hard to judge the distance, but he could not be any farther than a hundred feet away, which made him truly a monster of a man. Hugely muscled, thick wasted with long arms he looked like a burly bear given human form. His cloak was thrown over his shoulder to show the embossed breastplate of the Argent Legion proudly shining in the light. A steel helm rested on his head, but there was no mistaking the brilliant blue eyes and dark hair of a northman. Resting in both hands was a massive two headed axe, held casually like a woodcutter might, its blue steel blades shining with deadly intent.

  “It took you bastards long enough to find me!” Called the giant. His laughter echoing over the Kantoran troop.

  Sentas squared his shoulders and called back. “Not enough to steal from the Royal Army eh?” Motioning to the embossed breastplate he added, “You have to steal from the dead as well?”

  The giants eyes narrowed dangerously and his voice growled, the sound rolling down the. “Best watch that tongue of yours you whoreson!”

  “Come try and cut it out slime!” Challenged Sentas.

  “Not sure I will be able to find it when my axe finds your head!”

  Wary of an ambush he motioned to the troop to maintain their defensive circle before motioning to the bowmen to take the giant. The four men nocked arrows and took aim at the massive figure up the hill. Right before their arrows loosed there was a loud thwack as the lead archer stumbled back with a long shafted feathered arrows jutting from his forehead. The arrows had come from up the hill as well, and it had its desired effect, the archers started again and their shots never found their mark, the giant was unharmed.

  There was a mighty yell as the undergrowth exploded and men poured out rushing the defensive line. Sentas took quick stock of the situation. The men charging the line were poorly armed, wearing furs and armed with an assortment of weapons ranging from the occasional sword to maces and woodsman axes. They were just farmers and woodsmen throwing themselves against a wall of Kantoran steel.

   “Hold the line!” Sentas bellowed as he drew his sword and hammered his shield into the face of one of the charging men. His nose and teeth shattered upon impact with a sickening crunch and the men was thrown backwards. Another man charged at him but Sentas forced him back with the a quick upward slash of his sword as it slid from its scabbard.

  The first rush of men had slammed into the shield wall on all sides, but the Kantoran soldiers and met the charge with shields and swords. The archers drew string again to launch arrows at another wave of men emerging from the undergrowth. One more of the Kantoran bowmen was felled by another long shafted arrow which was followed by a small hail of smaller arrows. None of the men were seriously hurt from the smaller arrows, having been launched from crudely constructed hunting bows, their iron points couldn't pierce the mail and leather of the Kantoran soldiers.

  “Archers, draw steel!” Called Sentas. While the hunting bows had little chance of killing his men, the one fine bow among them could pick his own bowmen off of they were not pressed in close to their allies. With the order the two remaining archers drew their longswords and joined the melee.

  The attacking woodsman sent up a flurry of snow on the ground as they collided again with the defensive ring of soldiers. Even though it was difficult to tell in the swirling melee of steel, blood and snow Siestas estimated there was sixty of the woodsmen, and once his men made short work of them and forced them back they could divert their attention to the giant with the axe and the enemy archer.

  “Blood and Death!” Announced the arrival of the giant. Three of his soldiers flew backwards, ones chest erupting into a spray of gore as the axe bit into flesh, and then the giant was among them inside their defensive circle.

  “Bowmen, to me!” Sentas bellowed over the din of battle. He turned inward to face the new foe, calling upon his archers to assist because they did not have shields to fill the line. “Circle, fill the gap!”

  As me moved inward to face the axeman the soldiers took three steps backwards filling in the hole before it could be exploited by any more of the attackers. Sentas moved past the three soldiers who were knocked back by the giant's charge. Two of them were shaking off the impact and getting to their feet to rejoin the line, the third was dead. Arias lay on the ground a look of shock and pain on his face, his chest a gory hole from the gruesome impact of the axe.

  Sentas saw in shock horror as Gregor moved into attack, his sword leading the attack. The swing was aimed at chest height, which was just above the waist for the giant. It was a blow to strike at the ribs, but it never connected. The giant did not so much as parry as swat the sword aside with the axe, and in one fluid motion like a lumberjack splitting timber brought the axe up and with a glittering arc brought the axe had down with powerful force.

  The steel helms of the Kantoran soldiers were designed to turn aside blows, deflecting the force of swords and axes, but it did little good against the monster and his axe. Sentas had seen many disturbing and gruesome deaths in his service in the army, but nothing quite as stomach wrenching as watching the giant's axe literally smash through Gregor's helm and split his head like a melon. Blood, bone and brain ruptured from the rend and face of the helm. Mercifully Gregor had died upon impact.

  Twisting the axehead in the remains of Gregor's skull like a chopping block he pulled the blade free. Sentas and the other bowman rushed in to take advantage of the giant's momentary distraction to end him before he could cause more damage. As the giant pulled his axe free he took a step forward, turning his back to Sentas as he backhanded the charging bowman in the face, bending the nose guard of his helmet and catapulting him off his feet.

  “For the Legion!” The giant bellowed, his booming voice thundering in the small hollow, the echoing shacking snow off nearby trees.

  The giant's broad cloaked back rose above him as Sentas rushed in with the point of his sword, determined to run the huge man through to the hilt of his blade.

   He was three steps away when a searing pain struck him in the back, all strength leaving him as he collapsed. The Archer! He cursed himself as he fell to the ground. The pain was intense, and he barely felt the impact as his face hit the snow... he was blinded, and he could barely hear the sounds of battle as his men fought for their lives.

  The ringing of steel, the rending of flesh and the sound of the giant of a man bellowing his warcries as he hewed his way through his men. His vision faded to blackness, and Sentas wondered if he was dying

  Enya...

Excerpt from Chapter 3 and a small foreword

Hey everyone.  I just thought I would kick in few words before I put out another very rough first draft of the book I am writing, "Sellsword" (tentative title).

I started this book about a year ago, and truth be told I am waaaaaay behind on my progress.  In my defense I have had a pretty busy year, and have made a pretty big move!  This book has been both a labor of love and of hate at the same time.  When I first started working on it I was going through a pretty rough patch and it can be felt in the words on the page.  These days that hurt still exists (has for about 24 years in one way or another actually), and I can use the memory of that to give depth to the main protagonist.

Each of the characters you read about, Bors, Gaise, Tendra, Slayne, Thorgrimm, Samuel, Sonya and the others you will meet in short form as I work on the book are based off of people I know and myself.  This book is meant to be Heroic Fiction, but I have been drawing tons of inspiration from George RR Martin and Drew Karpyshyn and the Dark Fantasy Genre.

The setting itself is based in the Lae'noer world, a fantasy world of my own creation and takes place centuries after the events of the Acresian Chronicles (another project of mine).  You will see the typical fantasy races of Elves, Dwarves, and Orcs but I hope to put a different twist on the peoples themselves (Good old Drew, I would say you stole some of my ideas, but the framework for our settings were thought of the same time, you just made Dragon Age: Origins with it).

Now these excerpts are short chunks of each chapter, and are very rough.  A New York Best Selling time author once told me that, never edit until you are done.  Otherwise you will just go to editing hell and never get done.  So, they will continue to be rough until they are completed, and then I will do some of my own editing, as well as ask for some friends help as well.

So, without further pause...

Excerpt from Chapter 3

   He blew on his soup, cooling the surface, Sonya did the same. After a little while it seemed cool enough to drink, then the warrior tipped the cup to his lips and drank some of the liquid, getting some of the other ingredients as well. The soup warmed his throat and his stomach and helped banish the lingering cold he felt in his bones. He looked up and saw the look of relief on Sonya's face as well as she took the same.

   “Soup is good during weather like this, it hydrates as well as warms the body.” He told her.

   “Have you done this often?” She asked.

   “I am a seasoned campaigner if that is what you mean.” he replied. “I have fought and bled on battlefields from here to Kalachia, from the Wasted Lands to Tauran.”

   “That far?” She said amazed, “what army did you serve in to travel to all of those places?”

   Gaise shook his head, “I have been a sellsword, a mercenary for the last four years.”

   “It must have been an exciting life.”

   “Some of it was, the new places.” Gaise replied. “But mostly it was tedious, and often your employers were not men of quality. There were also very lean times.”

   “Lean times?”

   “There is not always wars to be fought, and during these times sellswords are not in high demand. Not enough coin to pay for a man with a sword.” Gaise stared into the fire, the flames were still high and they shown brightly in his emerald green eyes. “It is not uncommon that mercenaries would turn to banditry to fill their coin purses and their bellies. I have little stomach for bandits though, and would find work hunting those I had served with before.”

   “You had to fight allies?” Sonya said, her voice showing confusion.

   “A mercenary has little in the way of allies. We have a code, but it is not often followed when ones turns to rape and pillage to fill their bellies. It is bad for business to turn on those who pay your wages.”

   Gaise stood and moved to the small stack of wood he had retrieved from the outside pile and threw a couple of more logs on the fire before returning to his seat. They crackled and a small blizzard of embers flared up as the dry wood caught fire. He could feel Sonya watching him, he was a bastion of calm and civility in an otherwise cold and brutal world.

   “Most people regard mercenaries and sellswords in a negative light. We are paid to fight and kill, without the honor required to serve in a regular military.” The warrior continued. “This is only partially true. I have met some truly great souls in my time as a sellsword, but I have also served with enough to make the ill favored image ring true.”

   “Most of the nobles here in Kantor use them.” Added Sonya, “The Regent uses Durogian Mercenaries almost exclusively.”

   “Durogan has a very martial culture, almost every grown man is a soldier. They make coin for the crown by serving in mercenary armies all over the world.” Gaise said. “There is an ulterior motive as well, Durogan is flexing its muscles. I would not be surprised if Kantor was invaded when the spring melt banishes away the last of the winter snows.”

  Sonya's head sunk and she stopped speaking. She knows something, thought Gaise. The girl probably knew more about what was happening within the nation of Kantor than a young girl her age had any right to know.

Exerpt from Chapter 2

   Taking one last look at the snoring Decado she left the room, walking purposefully through the small wooden home the pikeman called home. Sliding out the front door she was greeted by bright sunlight.

The city of Duragon sprawled out around her, almost choking the air with its stone and slate buildings. Throngs of people haggled wares on street corners and the constant calls of merchant and whore alike could be heard on nearly every street corner in this quarter of the city. Tendra stepped out into the throng, making sure her hood was pulled tight as she made her way through the mass of people.

   There were few beggars and soldiers everywhere. Duragon had few of the former, and to many of the latter. Most of the criminals and beggars had been rounded up years ago to be turned into fodder for the army or outright killed to save on space and supplies. The Kingdom was in a constant state of war-readiness, a state the citizens of Durogan were long familiar with.

   The Kingdom of Durogan had at one point been an Empire, stretching almost the entire length of the Verleshan Peninsula. Many times in the long history of the militarily proud nation had it risen from the ashes to conquer to merely be smashed down again by misfortune, disease or magic. The past did not sit well with the proud nation, and its young men were obligated to join the army in readiness when the Eagle of the West marched again.

   The current King, Decimus the Third was promising just that. For the last ten years he had been securing alliances, building his forces and silencing his enemies. Tendra herself had killed the behest of the Durogian King, and would undoubtedly will again. Her skills were in high demand, and her rates were equally as high, but well worth the price.

   It was midday, and while the sky was clear and the sun sat brightly square in the sky the wind was cold and damp as it rolled in off the ocean. It was early in the year, and while the sea winds helped make the clime here warmer, winters teeth had not totally given up its grip of the land. The city was still bustling, and the cold air helped keep the everpresent smell of tanneries, blacksmiths, fish and the general fodder of so many people living in one place from being prevalent.

   Tendra made her way towards the docks district, passing more stalls with baying merchants plying their wares. Westerners selling fine steel wares, a few merchants from Tauran, bundled up in their linen clothes and turbans to try and escape the northern chill selling blown glass baubles and rare gemstones. From the far north there were barbarians selling their own goods, weapons made of the finest steel, but shoddily made. From the Southeast there were Kalachians with their golden hair selling gold wares mostly emblazoned with the symbols of Auen.

   Ever present were slaves, humans, orken and the bastards breeds of both. Wearing barely enough to keep warn and serving under either the leather or silk lash. Slavery was common in Durogan, with most of men being trained as soldiers they import slaves from all lands, including their own to till the fields. The nation lived in constant fear of a slave revolt, another notch in the quiver of the noble class. A constant threat of rebellion allowed for higher taxes and a stronger military presence.

   Tendra passed the small Gnomish Trading Coster and saw many citizen buying and selling to the short folk. The Gnomes sold goods fine wares from all over the world, even carrying hard to find dwarven goods, as they have an exclusive contract with the largest remaining cities of the stout folk. They were guarded by lightly armored Gnomish Musketeers with their dangerous blunderbusses. Weapons of smoke and fire that the best alchemists in the west could not duplicate without magic.

   The assassin considered stopping and buying some goods, she had some of the odd paper script the Gnomes used for currency but decided against it. The dark haired woman was late to checking in with her master back at the guild hall, and despite her favored status among her peers it was best not to leave the grandmaster waiting.

Exerpt from Chapter 1

   The training grounds were draped in snow, the sky above pregnant with clouds promising more as night wore on. It was quiet in the early evening, as still and dead as the hearths and barracks. Gone were the roar of fires and drunken soldiers, the marches, the formations.

   The training ground of the Argent Legion, pride of the Kantor truly was dead.

   A lone figure stood near the ruined gates, obscured and protected from the cold by a dark heavy cloak his keen green eyes gazed at the broken statues, crumbling walls and ruined heraldry. Stepping into the interior of the grounds ruined the silence as he booted feet crunched through the untouched snow. It seemed as if nothing resided here, not even animals.

   As dead as the Legion, the cloaked figure thought.

   Making his way around a ruined barracks he noticed the roof had caved in with the weight of multiple seasons of harsh weather. He reached out with his hand, and ran it along the edge of the ruined building, remembering years of living with the other soldiers of the Legion. It had been four years since he had entered this compound, not since he left his brothers, and now it was a dead as the men and women he served with.

Gone was Attalus with his drills in the morning, gone was Bracus with his weapons training, thrashing his students with wooden swords. Gone was Circe the stable master and the horses the Legion rode into battle on. Gone was General Essex, the man who brought them all together to be the greatest force on the Durogian Peninsula.

   All gone, the lone figure mused.

   Footprints followed the man as he made his way towards the main mess and commons building. Out of all the stucco and brick buildings it was the one who hold up the best over the last several years of neglect. The door sat on rotting leather hinges and easily opened, giving way to a cold barren room that at one time held tables for an entire company of men. The hearth sat in one corner, cold and empty the ashes from the last time logs were lay inside were long since washed away by rain or snow.

   With purpose the man walked toward the back hearth, nestled against its stone footings raising up into the large and high slate ceiling and checked to be sure it was dry. Satisfied after sweeping away some cold and wet wood fragments the man stood and headed outside to the old storage shed. He returned several minutes later with several pieces of wood. The figure had been fortunate, the ceiling of the log house was slate, just as the mess hall itself and the wood barely had any snow accumulated on its surface and was easily brushed away.

   The figure patiently and with diligence laid a fire out in the hearth before he pulled out a box of tinder from under the folds of his cloak. Quickly using a flint he ignited the tinder and used his breath which showed as a white fog to quickly breathe the flickering flame to life. Within a few minutes the fire had reached a comfortable blaze and the figure took a deep breath before warming his hands. It would take a few minutes for the flames to warm the stones and warm the nearby area, and he wanted to be sure his fingers were not going to freeze before then.

   When he was sufficiently warm the man pulled his hood back revealing a handsome, dark haired man with a scruffy beard and bright green eyes. His cheeks were flushed red from the cold and his nose was numb, but the fire was quickly starting to warm up the surrounding area.

   The figure looked about the room with a sad look on his face, his brow furrowed at lost dreams and glories. The ruined building symbolized much to the man, and his eyes drank it all in. The tired warn our walls, the broken furniture, the fire blackened hearth itself.

   Gaise, recently from the city of Verlesh, sword for hire and strategos had come home.

   “My friends, what happened?” Gaise spoke in a quiet whisper.

   The silence was palpable in its response and equally as damning. It was almost as the men and women who died here silently called out to the Gaise.

   “I know, I should be here with you my fellow Legionnaires.” Frowned the warrior as he threw a twig into the snapping flames. “Four years since I left you all to die.”

Making it rain!

Been a while since my last blog update.

So after a month of scrimping and value shopping, of not eating on my days off and hoping I didn't get two off in a row I finally got paid.  I splurged a little bit, but not to much and now I can get money transferred back into my US account so I can start handling my bills back in the US.

Work has been good.  My GM said I was doing a pretty good job.  Which was nice to hear.  We have been pretty busy and I started training at a pretty tough time for the store.  I was kinda left to fend for myself when it came to training.  At first I was worried that it was because I was just being left out to flail around a bit, but then I smacked down that pesky monkey on my back which has been naught but a villain in my life.  I am getting more confident, more capable, and I think I am going to settle in nicely to work over here.

Speaking of work.  With home office taking its time over my residency (I have learned the hard way that here you have to follow up on everything, all the time, everyday) I will not be heading to Kuwait until after the next Changs opens up.

Found an apartment really close to work, for less than a thousand US a month.  But again, with home office dragging their heels that is being held up too.  But once my residency is taken care of, and I get my bank account is settled I will have a new one Bedroom apartment to call my own.  With a rooftop pool and a gym (thank goodness).

Thanksgiving was kind of a drag this year.  I was so used to spending it at Uncle Glenn's and with Jess that the last two years have been kind of hollow (though thanks last year for inviting me over guys).  Christmas is going to be kinda the same I think.  I have never been one for holidays, mostly as a way of seeing family.  Just reminds me of some of the things that I have taken for granted over the years.

It is weird to think of how my life has changed over the last year.  The only negative aspect was literally the worst and best thing to happen to me.  Jess leaving me.  It was the best because it really did jump start me.  She left because I was not going anywhere, and here I am in Dubai.  While I may never be a millionaire or rich, I will have the experience to easily get a job in the restaurant field anywhere when I get back.

The downside to it, is that I do not see myself being in any relationship.  I have liked girls, asked out girls.  Hell there have been a few girls I have felt I could be close to.  But I don't think I am ever going to be able to trust anyone ever again.  She was the one person I had faith would never turn their back, and she did.

Hard pill for me to swallow.

We will see though.  While I still feel heartbroken, I am much stronger than I ever was.  Plus I am living in an incredible city, and have made some pretty incredible friends.  All I can do is live life as best as I possibly can, to experience it, and to learn and to grow.

Well, about time for me to wrap this up.  Closing tonight and have to get looking pretty.