The Eldon Archives is a tale told over the course of 5 individual books, each contains its own adventure and perspective to the events in its entirety.
The integral mythology is presented throughout the pentalogy allowing the story's elements to gain acclamation through its resounding architectural narrative.
I’d like to thank you for your interest.
Life is quite hectic juggling two jobs, but I'm now in the final stages of editing so things are exciting. It's taken me six to eight weeks of long hours in front of a computer screen to do any touch-ups and I estimate my editor to take the same. It's a long process but I hope to have a release date for the novel by the end of the year.
In the meantime, there are some character bios below and an excerpt from the novel to whet your appetite.
Excerpt from Book I
Moonlight. It seemed to bathe the forest in a magical aura. The dewy ground glistened, leaves shone and anything unsightly was hidden in shadow. But everything was not quite a picture of serenity. As he trembled in fear, staring down the wrong end of a blade, Dell couldn’t help but regret the actions that led him there.
It was not curiosity that brought him outside the town boundaries and into the woods, but a dare, and Dell was determined to show that he could be brave. Even stumbling blindly through the brush and getting whacked by the odd branch didn’t sway the sixteen year old to turn back. He was convinced that someday he would be someone of importance, perhaps a great warrior or even one of the King’s royal guardsmen. And spending one night in the woods bordering Corsin seemed an easy feat, but then again he had not expected to see anyone else.
Treading the damp earth and breathing the cold night air he spotted something in a small clearing, slightly illuminated by the faint stars glowing in the dark sky. There he was, waiting patiently by his black horse. Dell’s eyes widened. This man could possibly be a bodyguard of some kind – he certainly looked the part. Dell wondered if he should risk a closer look. Dressed all in black, the mysterious man looked dangerous and foreboding yet he had a face to suggest a peaceful temperament. The boy saw no danger and crept closer, watching the black knight double check the straps on his mount’s saddle. The horse jerked uneasily as the knight pulled a little too tight on one of the straps. The animal received a backhand for the slight and Dell stepped back in shock, stepping unwittingly on a dry stick. The black knight snatched his helmet from the saddle horn as his head turned side to side, scanning the trees until his eyes rested at the spot where Dell stood motionless.
‘Come out.’ It wasn’t a command but it wasn’t a request either and it was enough for Dell to comply. The black knight looked searchingly around before his eyes rested back on Dell. ‘Are you alone?’
‘But the woods are a dangerous place. Were you not taught this?’ asked the man in black.
‘Yes I was.’
‘Then why are you here, boy?’
Dell thought back to the morning when he saw his neighbour, Ethan Hestrom, make his way toward the hill in town. He knew that if he was to become someone of significance, then he would have to get help. Dell recognised Ethan to be that someone, and he was desperate to be able to join him and his friends and practise his swordplay. However, he was not as helpful as Dell had thought. Instead, Ethan Hestrom put him to the test and dared him to spend a night in the woods.
‘I’m here to prove my worth,’ said Dell finally.
‘To prove your worth,’ echoed the knight. ‘To whom?’
‘An older boy … a man really. Ethan … he is a good fighter!’
‘And you want to be a good fighter like him,’ smiled the man. ‘What is it that you are supposed to do for Ethan?’
‘Survive the night,’ replied Dell with a half hearted laugh, thinking that this man before him had done countless great deeds to prove his worth.
But the black knight did not think the remark was funny. ‘Do you think you will succeed?’
Dell was silent. There was a chilling sincerity in the knight’s tone and suddenly he decided he did not want to be there at all, enclosed in silent darkness.
The black knight wrenched Dell around and slammed him against the trunk of a tree, and with a dull metallic sound came forth the knight’s sword. Tears streamed down his face as he watched the tip of the blade blacken and he hoped for all hope that this man was playing a trick on him. No amount of moonlight was going to make this experience magical as a warm wet trickle splashed down his leg. Then he heard it, announced by a rustle in the trees, a multitude of deep guttural growls, and the silence fell. Dell turned back to the man who had put the helm on his head and all that stared back was the visage of an angry skull. Dark shapes leapt from the trees and converged in the small clearing. Yellow eyes, horned heads and needled teeth filled his vision. Surrounded by horror there was one bead of hope when he heard the distant call of his father.
They are looking for me! He let out one long wail and heard the chorus of shouts from his parents in response. He sighed deeply and felt as though he was about to be saved from this nightmare, and then the black knight issued one command:
I've commissioned the talent of local artist, Kamal Coker, who works at Quality Comics where the concept images are for sale.
Prices are $30 per A3 size print or 4 for $100
Masking his operations under the cover of darkness, sightings are rare and confrontations are rarer still, giving weight to the belief that his very existence is just a myth. Little is known about the origins of the black knight. This enigmatic figure is a mystery to both allies and enemies alike, and no one is safe from his terrible wrath.
Loyal only to the Sorcerer, he commands the Kròkos with fear and an uncompromising resolve to accomplish his master’s will. Confrontation should be avoided at all costs.
With armour that’s impervious to conventional weapons and the wielder of the life bane, he drives terror into the hearts of his adversaries. Chaos reigns in his presence and the destructive power of his weapon is unrivalled. A mere scratch from his dreaded sword reduces an enemy’s body to nothing more than a dried husk. This highly skilled warrior litters the battlefield with corpses and carnage follows him in his wake.
Ko-jah of the Gorien Tribe
At 194 years old and a shade over seven feet tall, Ko-jah of the Gorien Tribe commands respect. An Oocha hailing from the icy regions of Onlach, Ko-jah is hardy and nomadic by nature.
When Ko-jah rescued a caravan of human traders, accompanied by Artos Hestrom, his scent was caught by the Oocha’s mortal enemy, the Quatchi. Now marked for death and exiled from his tribe, Ko-jah accepted Artos’ invitation to travel to West Ahron, with hopes to lure the Quatchi to fairer battlegrounds.
It is not in his blood to conquer, but Ko-jah loves combat and his bloodlust rivals that of the most feared Kròkos. It is ill advised to get on his wrong side. With decades of swordplay under his belt, Ko-jah has become a proficient killer, but always strives to find a warrior of better skill and reflex.
Oochas hate animals. If you travel with Ko-jah, keep your horse tethered or it will probably be eaten by morning.
Alak of the Boudaik Clan
| A scrapper and a skirmisher, Alak uses his arsenal of bone protrusions and weaponry any way he can to achieve victory. His skills are blunt but effective, boasting five Shènaar scout kills and proudly displaying their eyes around his neck as trophies.|
Hostility was bred into Alak from a young age. To survive is to treat your allies like you would treat your worst enemies, but killing fellow Kròkos is frowned upon. Perennially hot tempered, even the wrong look can end badly, and Alak’s proficiency with an axe can settle most intra Clan disputes.
His only deed worthy of mention was stealing a saddle rug from a lowly Lord during a raid to contaminate a small estate’s water supply. He now wears part of the rug as a seam on his leather coat to remind his kin of his challenge to the Dunadean Lord.
Stationed in Mogul-Rhe at the Keep, Alak has at least gained the trust of the Shirùk enough to watch the home front and prevent backstabbers and rivalling clan chieftains from vying for overall leadership.
| Shè-nasu Saiwan|
Discipline. Stealth. Purpose. These are the virtues of the Shènaar warrior. Saiwan has them all in spades, having risen to Treiss, second highest rank beneath the Saar.
Saiwan made a name for himself as the commander of a reconnaissance taskforce leading to the discovery of their now home, Mogul-Rha. The detail and specifics of the information he provided was pivotal in the assault of Mogul-Rha and its capture from the inhabiting Kròkos.
Aside from the rigours of a high ranking Shènaar, Saiwan earned the title: Shè-nasu – the elite Shènaar. Very few pursue the title of Shè-nasu. To do so would proclaim that Shènaar to be arrogant and there is no room for arrogant Shènnar in society. Yet for some, it is a lure that promises unsurpassable greatness. Five to ten years of relentless training is required to attain the necessary skill. To be acclaimed as Shè-nasu and receive the coveted white sash, anything short of perfection is punished with death.