Mt. Sneffels Press, a Colorado Micropress

My latest fantasy project is The Unexpected Traveler. It’s a fantasy epic action-adventure set in its own fantasy world, replete with elves, dwarves, faeries, sprites, gnomes, eagles, and dragons, all of whom are sentient creatures. See details at The Unexpected Traveler project page.

I’m also posting chapter heading drawings as Loretta completes them. I’ll soon have Brett Pfister’s maps here too. And the text? Well, that’ll be available on Kindle in February for $2.99. Start saving your dimes and pennies now for a rocking good book!

Here’s an image from The Unexpected Traveler and the text it illustrates. For more information, see the project page.

The magic sword that Matt found in the high country. Art by Loretta Casler, www.aldea-art.com.

     “Uh, huh. So what’s magic about it?”
     “Pick it up.”
     Standing, I reached across the table. The moment my fingers touched the grip, I jerked and sat back heavily.
     “I told you,” Matt said, smiling smugly. “It’s magic. It must have something to do with that weirdo. I saw him today; maybe he was a hundred yards away. Really skinny.”
     I went around the table to stand beside Matt. Touching it, the sword was again electric. Quite deliberately, I tightly closed my fist around the grip. Electricity zinged through me, from head to foot and back again. I lifted the sword up and held it out straight, away from Matt. The feeling was entirely pleasant, like awakening after a summer nap. As I swung it back and forth, Matt pushed himself out of the way; his chair toppled and dumped him atop his crampons. He swore.
     I ignored him. This amazing object was an extension of my arm, much more so than any other of Matt’s swords. I thrust it forward and swung it back and forth while Matt clambered to his feet. The electric feeling elated me. Holding it near the window, I eyed the fuller closely, careful not to touch the sword’s edge.
     “Wow!” Reluctantly, I put it back on the table and stood back. “How did you make it feel like that? I don’t see where the batteries go.”
     Rubbing his elbow, he righted his chair. He went back to his polishing as though he found magic swords every day.

Here’s an image from The Unexpected Traveler and the text it illustrates. For more information, see the project page.

The Jolly Judy mine entrance. Art by Loretta Casler, www.aldea-art.com

     I stopped the Blazer. Unless Tom had pointed it out, I would never have thought the faint track to be a road. It wasn’t level. I didn’t think it safe. The official mine entrance was clearly visible, boarded up and chained. A rusted sign provided dire warnings of a rocky, watery death and urged all to avoid the temptation to explore. A noisy, yellow creek bubbled out beneath the door, full of the noxious heavy metals unlocked from their rocky grave by miners interested only in gold and silver. The water rushed across the road and tumbled to join other pollution in the Baldwin River. The water wasn’t safe to drink until several miles downstream where cleaner water mixed in.

Here’s an image from The Unexpected Traveler and the text it illustrates. For more information, see the project page.

The enormous Drogo the Dragon. Art by Loretta Casler, www.aldea-art.com.

     “Did you hear that?” he asked.
     “What?”
     “The insects have gone quiet. The horses are worried.”
     “Something’s flapping up there. Something big,” whispered Heinrich.
     “What is that?” I asked, pointing up into the moonlight.
     An enormous black shape drifted about, periodically flashing with yellow light as though a dwarvish airliner. Rainier quietly got out of bed and drew his sword. Heinrich and I ran to calm the horses.
     It appeared to be an enormous bird, far larger than anything I’d ever seen. Whatever it was was black and therefore hard to make out. When the yellow light flared again I could see that it came from the beast’s mouth. The gigantic bird swooped silently across the meadow and grabbed a sheep, which screamed its death agony. The mysterious beast flapped back up into the moonlight, coming around the edge of the meadow in our direction. The sheep struggled in the beast’s claws. The beast let go of the sheep, which plummeted a good hundred feet and hit the ground perhaps twenty feet from us. It convulsed and lay still. The gigantic beast wheeled around and landed, lighting its own way with flame. I was surprised to see that it stumbled on landing, but it quickly found its prey and began to eat. We could hear bones snap and the great beast rustle its wings.
     Rainier stepped backward and fell over a root. He was warrior enough not to cry out, but his sword clanged against his shield and his armor jingled. The beast turned immediately to face us. It puffed a quick flame in our direction that smelled like unwashed socks. Seeing us with its enormous black eyes, it turned and reared. It had alligator-type skin and was at least fifty feet long. The wingspan was closer to sixty feet, maybe more. As it puffed up its wings and stood on its talons—a move that frightened me to the core—it moaned involuntarily and stumbled, falling flat on its face not ten feet from us. A fireball shot forward as it hit; I had to jump out of the way. As it was it hit one of my bags. I rushed to put out the fire.
     “You’re…you’re…you’re a dragon,” I stammered as I climbed to my feet.
     “What did you think I was?” it replied, its pained, booming bass voice shaking the ground. “An elf?”
     I was floored. “You can speak! English too!”
     “All the seven creatures can speak, you stupid human. Who are you and tell me why I should let you live.”

Here’s an image from The Unexpected Traveler and the text it illustrates. For more information, see the project page.

The ruins of Malgon Castle. Art by Loretta Casler, www.aldea-art.com

     Very slowly we ascended the stairs. At the top the breeze whistled past a heavy wood door that hung on one hinge. We crept around it. The strong breeze told us we’d hit ground level—but instead of arching ceilings, stars ruled the night sky. All was still except for our footfalls, Rainier’s mail, and the slight rattle of my sword against the sheath’s metal locket.
     The more we walked, the more destruction we found. A room with several large windows held only rain-washed ashes, charred wood and bits of glass. Rainier told me it was the Document Repository with the cadastral records, and its destruction meant none could defend title to their land—not human nor elf nor dwarf nor anyone else in all the land of Orgon.
     A walk through the kitchen revealed a couple more skeletons, including one of a dwarf. Rainier stared long and hard. We found our way into the great hall, but it offered only a few charred beams left over from the high wooden roof. We could see stars and a half moon. Here the breeze was strong and cold. The moon was considerably larger than Earth’s and correspondingly brighter.
     The breeze brought with it the smell of burning wood. Rainier looked completely puzzled. I held my finger over my lips and motioned him to follow. We turned the flashlights off and used the moonlight to pick our way through the debris toward what we could now see was a flickering yellow light. The whistling breeze hid the noise of our boots crunching over grit and broken rock. The castle walls loomed high above us. None of the stonework seemed badly damaged, just the wood.

Here’s an image from The Unexpected Traveler and the text it illustrates. For more information, see the project page.

A cell in the dungeon in Malgon Castle. Art by Loretta Casler, www.aldea-art.com

     I poked my flashlight through one of the identical barred windows. The first fifteen cells held nothing. The sixteenth, which had a key in the lock, took my breath away.
     “Rainier!” I hissed. “You’d better look.”
     He did and shrank back. The cell was full of skeletons, mummified in the dry climate, all clad in armor. Here and there was some hair. Some of the armor was torn. The floor and the door were covered in bird droppings.
     “How have the gods allowed this?” he muttered.
     He turned the key. Skeletons that had leaned on the door tumbled into the hallway, the armor clattering and rolling down the corridor.
     He swore in a language I didn’t understand. About 25 elves had been thrust into the cell.
     “All warriors!” he muttered, shocked. “And look at that insignia! That’s my father’s! Someone from Dag-Dakut!”

Here’s an image from The Unexpected Traveler and the text it illustrates. For more information, see the project page.

Sheep safely graze near Eagle's Nest

     We circled a field where three other dragons waited. I was unceremoniously deposited: the great talons parted the moment I touched the ground. My dragon waddled to join the others. They lifted off, matching each other for every flap and twirl, in tight formation. I lay on my back in the cool, wet grass and watched them circle to gain altitude. They headed east, away from the low sun, high into the Lamp. Numa already peeked down at me.
     I was alone. The sun dipped below the pines, leaving me in shadow. The temperature dropped sharply, just as it did in Hammond with every sunset. The enormous pines kept watch over the grassy clearing. Sheep peeked out from under to see if the dragons were gone; commented to each other, and went back to grazing. I luxuriated in the comfortable grass, wondering if I dared fall asleep right there. Somehow the narrow canyon, with granite walls a good thousand feet high on either side, plus the rush of the nearby creek and birdsong on the gentle breeze, made everything seem like it had been one long dream. The sheep kept their distance.

Art by Loretta Casler. See her website here.