Introduction

So, Eorine has had a ton of ideas implemented into it. Since it shifted from novel, to game, to comic, to novel, to DnD setting, many ideas had to be scrapped or reworked. This includes characters.

One such character that had been reworked was Red. The Draktilien originally played a large role in showing off how the shadier parts of the world worked, and was a way to show the differing perspectives of the other races.

Funnily, or rather, stupidly, I thought it would be a good idea to introduce Red from a different character’s perspective. I was hoping the perspective shift would further contrast just how alien the thought processes were of this strange reptilian race.

In order to further this contrast, I opted for Renfro, a young, curious, and extremely naive child. Other little things I attempted to do was use simple sentences with a limited vocabulary to further get the reader into a childish mindset.

I wrote this scene several years ago during the pandemic, edited it a bit in 2022, and then let it sit until I completely shelved it. I figured that now I am 100% sure I will never use it, it might be interesting to see how much ideas can change over time.

This was supposed to be the very first chapter of the novel originally titled With Blades of Steel.

Feel free to laugh at my terrible attempt, since I had thought writing a novel would be easy.

Chapter 1

It was not uncommon for a body to get left behind on the beach when the tide receded. All of the adults Renfro knew called it the Dead Man’s Trap for a reason, and he was pretty sure that was why. In the mornings, the sea level would rise, covering much of the shoreline and bringing in all the stuff that the merchant ships deemed no longer useful as they sailed, only for much of it to be trapped in the sand as the day continued and as the water returned from where it came.

His father had told him it was because of the way the currents flowed. The ocean was huge, but things like to converge into a single spot thanks to the the Lawful One’s influence that governed the water.

It did not matter to Renfro why it happened. All he cared about was the fact that it did happen. He would make sure to get his daily chores done as quickly as possible before the sun began to set. If he waited too long, then the little bit of light that came from over the trees would cease, and his mother would forbid him from going. She believed the sailor’s stories of things crawling out of the dark depths, and she was afraid of them.

Renfro was not.

The only things he knew of that came out of the ocean were fish. Fish and the garbage that washed up on shore. The only other things that he had seen come out of the water and get stuck the shore were the dead bodies. They were not scary. He had seen many bodies wash up on that shore, and none of them could move.

Usually the bodies were of big, burly adults with large beards. There was the occasional woman as well, but that was much rarer. Once, he had seen the long thin body of an Elf.

At first the strange proportions and weird looking clothes had worried him. Everything about that body had looked wrong. It was much too tall, and much too lean to be human, and for a moment he was worried that the sailor’s stories were true. It took him a long time to work up the courage to tiptoe closer. Once he was near enough to make out the finer details, he knew it was an Elf. He knew it because the ears were bent and stretched, just like his Father had described.

Renfro had told his father about the Elf that had washed up. He had been excited to show his father about what the ocean had revealed to him. His father did not enjoy the spectacle as much as he had.

Now, much like that day, Renfro was staring at a new body from a distance. He was hiding behind a large piece of driftwood, eying the sparkling red thing that the tide had brought in.

Renfro slowly got up from the branch he was hiding behind. He had waited several minutes watching the lizard, not seeing any movement.

With his better view, Renfro realized that he could have very easily confused the creature for a fish. Its deep red scales shimmered in the light of the sun. But, he knew the thing was not a fish. Fish did not have arms, or legs, and this creature had both. Its arms were long and thin, and its hands were tipped with sharp claws. The creature had a long tail that lay across the sand, unmoving, and its face was elongated and snout-like.

He remembered the stories of dragons, and he wondered if this was what one would look like.

A soft curious step was taken by Renfro. If this was a dragon, then the stories lied about how big they were. He took another cautious step. And this dragon did not have wings. How could dragons fly without wings?

The boy froze.

There was movement in the thing’s chest. It was breathing.

Renfro fell into the sand as he scurried away. The thing, whatever it was, was definitely alive. He dove behind the piece of driftwood he had been hiding behind earlier, hoping that the scaly monster would not notice him.

His breathing was now fast and heavy. He put a hand over his mouth in an attempt to quiet himself. Time seemed to freeze as Renfro lay in the sand.

Slowly, he peaked his head over the branch.

He could see the thing’s chest continue to rise and fall.

The lizard’s body suddenly spasmed, its tail slapping the sand beneath it with worrying force.

Renfro flinched. He was terrified, not knowing what the creature was or what it would do.

He had heard stories of dragons, and even though this creature did not resemble any dragon he had heard of, he couldn’t rule out the possibility.

As he hid, the creature moved. Its hands gripped the sand, claws sinking in. Slowly, it started to rise, pulling its long body up, the sand sticking to its scales.

Renfro had seen animals walk on their two legs before. The dogs on his farm did it all the time, but this creature was different. When dogs stood, they could only do it for a few moments before they fell back down. This, lizard, stood as easily as he himself could. It may have the body of a lizard, but it stood like a person.

The creature surveyed its surroundings, almost confused as to where it was. It stood in the sand, head slowly turning from one direction to another.

Renfro could only stare. The thing had not seen him. Its gaze was focused elsewhere. It took a step toward him. The creature took another step towards him, its head pointed at the ground.

Renfro looked down at the tracks he had left in the sand. He had not done anything to hide them. Is that what the creature was looking at?

Renfro held his breath and covered his mouth. He was now very worried.

He watched the top of the lizard’s head. It was so focussed on the ground that Renfro could see how flat it was and how thick the scales that lined it were. The creature had no ears, and its face was long.

Renfro was staring right at it when the creature’s head snapped up and stared back at him.

It had sensed him. He knew it.

The thing went from slow, almost delicate steps, to a full sprint in less than a moment. Each step bringing it so much closer to himself.
Home. If he made it there his father would protect him. He knew his father had a sword. He would be able to stop the creature chasing him.

Renfro turned around and ran as fast as he could. The sand shifted under his feet, slowing him down. Once he was on the more stable dirt, he picked up speed. He felt the wind rush against his face and through his hair, his heart pounding heavily against his chest. He did not turn around. He could hear the lizard behind him.

It very little time before he realized he had no chance to make it.
Strong, scaly claws shoved him hard against the ground. The rocks of the road scraping his face as he was forced down. Just as quickly as he was tackled, the creature spun him around onto his back.

Before him was a face that further reminded him of the stories of dragons. The stories of creatures of massive size. The ones that would burn villages without a second thought. The ones that ate little boys.

He stared into the burning yellow eyes of the creature.

There was a blur before Renfro felt an intense pain in his neck. A liquid warmth trickling down it.

Darkness overtook him before he could scream in pain.

Bonus

I actually wrote a second chapter about Red. This time, from his perspective. This chapter would have probably been the third chapter of the novel, taking place very soon after the one you have just read. Know that this chapter was never edited, and was similarly binned when I realized I would never write that novel.

One thing to note: Red would remain nameless until later on in the story. There was reasoning behind this, and I attempted to skirt around this issue, but it really did not work. I can see this now. It was a poor attempt to be deeper than I had the skill to tackle.

Once more, feel free to laugh as you see fit.

Chapter 3?

The lizard stood up and let the woman’s body drop to the floor with an unceremonious thump. She had managed to put up a better fight than the man did.

He examined the wound in his arm. Blood dripped from the gash the woman’s blade had left. The drake wiped his bloodied hands off on the woman’s dress before picking up the kitchen knife from the floor. He sliced a sizable section of the woman’s dress, wrapping the cloth tightly around his arm. The flow of blood stopped as he continued to apply pressure to the makeshift bandage. He used the extra length of the cloth strip to fasten it securely. It was a bit tricky getting the knot to stay with the proper amount of tightness using just his one free hand.

Once he had finished with his arm, he glanced around the house. It was single large room. A table in the one corner, a series of shelves in the other, a bed and small bed roll along the opposing wall, and a fire pit in the center of the room. Several furs, all of them large and of a dark brown color, covered most of the wooden floor. The table had a large pot sitting on top of it, a pile of uncut potatoes beside it.

The lizard walked back to the front door and knelt down beside the man. His breathing was slow and had a sickly wet sound to it.

The man was on his back. His one arm was firmly planted on his neck. Blood continued to seep between his fingers from the place where the lizard had sliced it. The man’s other hand continued to grip the sword he had been too slow to swing.

The lizard saw the fear and anger in the man’s eyes. They were the emotions of the weak, it thought. They only appeared to those that were unable to control their own lives. The fear of not knowing what someone else will do. The anger of not being able to change it.

He shook his head in disappointment. He was not surprised that the man had been easily taken care of, even despite the fact that he had been unarmed. No, he was disappointed that a man with a sword did less than a woman with a small kitchen knife.

The drake grabbed the sword with his unhurt arm and with the other pulled the man’s hand off of it. He was impressed by the dying man’s grip.

The lizard stood up. He twirled the blade in his hand, examining its weight and balance. It was on the lighter side, and the handle was a bit small for his taste, but it would be better than having to rely on the short distance his claws could strike from. Its size and weight might end up being a benefit while his arm heals.

He gave the sword a testing swing. It would suffice.

Without a moment’s hesitation, the drake knelt back down to the man and plunged the steel into his chest. A surprised gasp followed by a faint gurgling could be heard.

The lizard then removed the blade, wiped it on the man’s pants, and stood up once again.

He walked over to the shelves in the room, leaned the sword against the wall, tip pointing into the wooden floor, and began searching through the belongings of the deceased family. There were jars of food, spices, dining ware, tools, blankets, scraps of cloth, candles, books, a bag of bronze and silver pieces, and all sorts of other random objects thrown together with seemingly little organization. The lizard took a piece of cloth scrap and one of the thin blankets. He tied them together into a simple sack, making sure that the fabric would stay together.

Once he was satisfied with his creation, he tossed anything that he could possibly use in the near future into the sack. Everything else was sent to the floor. Several jars of the food, two knives, a blanket, the candles, the bag of bronze and silver, a sharpening stone, and a piece of flint were quickly deposited into his bag, while various knickknacks, toys, cups, and other utensils banged and rattled as they were shoved out of his way.

When he was finished throwing everything of value into the bag, he sat it down on the floor and picked up the sword. He grabbed a piece of canvas scrap that was sitting on a shelf, wrapped the blade of the sword with it, and tied it into place with a piece of thin strip of leather. It was not as good as a proper sheath, but it would at least keep the thing from possibly cutting him while he travelled.

Silently, the lizard threw his improvised bag over his shoulder, grabbed the wrapped sword in his other hand, and walked back towards the entrance of the house. He was unsure how long it would take for someone to realize that the previous owners were dead, and his goal was to be as far away as possible before that occurred.

South would be his best bet. He was not familiar with the mainland from experience, but he did know that the south had less of a history with Draktiliens. While Oskiris had warred with the hordes in the Northern Isles, Nirg had stayed to the south, content with the land it had. That would likely play in his favor.

For the first time in his life, he was glad that red drakes such as himself were forced to study the maps and history of the land.

He looked down at the man’s lifeless body. His eyes were still open, but there was none of the emotion he had seen mere minutes earlier.

The lizard stepped over it and began his walk south.