Helloooooooooooooooo
This is an excerpt froma historical/fantasy item I began a while back. It is not necessarily the first chapter but it introduces a character and I think it's enough to stand on its own for now. I Just thought I would post it here to see the level of interest and whether or not I should continue and make this into a novel.
Any comments/critiques are welcomed and appreciate! 
ps: pronounciations for names
Loira = Low-ear-ah
Armas = Are-mass
Javis Ruun = Jay-vis Rune
Sias = Sigh-as
Payton = Pay-Tonne
All characters, ideas, concepts, etc are my own origional work; I humbly ask that you respect my intellectual property and do not plagarize my material.
Thanks 
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Loira's hands trembled as she read and reread the summons over and over again. She had waited twenty years, and at long last, it had finally come.
Lord Armas, High Elder and Son of the Four Seas requires your presence at High Council immediately. You are to depart at once upon receipt of this summons; delaying to do so or attempting to flee the realm will be considered an insult to his Grace and is grounds for treason.
Signed Chief Elder Prakks, this 12th day of Sys, year 376 of the Two Suns
Loira, at long last, lifted her sapphire blue eyes and for the first time took in the youth before her. He was young, perhaps twelve or so and he shook terribly from nerves and fear. Loira was not at all surprised. Most people found her rather intimidating to be around since she was, for better or worse, reputably known for her prowess in battle. It had earned her a handful of good friends and an endless sea of enemies. She moved to tuck the scrap of parchment in her leather purse tied to her hip, the boy whimpered thinking she meant to draw her blade.
God's Blood! She swore vehemently. She may have been a woman, but she would be damned if she knew how to handle a child. Irritably she dragged her hand through her auburn locks. She preferred to keep it tied back at her nape as it was willfully curly and she had neither the time nor the patience to deal with it. Were it not a crime for women to have short hair, Loira would have chopped it off ages ago only to rid herself of the burden.
"Tell me your name, boy." She did the best to keep the irritation out of her voice and features when he whimpered again once she placed her hands on her hips. For a moment he stood there, cowering, deciding whether or not it would be wise to speak. Then finally, in the softest, meekest voice she had ever heard, he uttered, "Sias - Miss - Sir - Mame!" His face flushed a deep shade of crimson and he took two steps back as if afraid she'd retaliate.
Loira only sighed and shook her head in pity and disgust. Praise be to the Gods that she had never been so weak and feeble at this poor boy's age. If she had been ... then she would have died...with the others...
"Very well, Sias." Loira spoke at last, rubbing her brow as she pushed back the pain the memory had forced to surface. "I want you to go to the stables. There is a man there named Vorr. Tell him he's to prepare my mount - tell him I sent you." Loira didn't even have to say another word before the boy bowed as deep as he could and then bolted from her tent with such speed he practically flew. With a weary sigh she seated herself on the edge of her cot and began to pull on her knee-high, armored boots and then changed from her thin white cotton sleeping tunic, to one of soft blue wool and brown leather - the colors of the Teliquan.
She would journey to the Capital of the realm which was little more then a three days ride from her camp. The Tournament of Champions was set to begin within the month once the summonses were issued. The finest warriors from the seven clans would then compete - fighting in most cases to the death. The winner would be declared King of Testria and his Clan, the ruling nation.
For the last sixty years, the Prea k'aan had been seated on the throne, ruled by the vile King Viockkr. He had been the warrior to first claim victory for the Prea k'aan's and had fought again in the following Tournament, proving victorious yet again. The third Tournament, the King chose to forfeit his right of selecting two warriors and had instead entered his only son and heir, Prince Niockkr who had proven triumphant, as had his father before him.
However, it was no secret amongst the other Clans that all victories had been a direct result of underhanded tactics. In fact, the rightful winner nigh on sixty years ago should have been the greatest warrior Loira had ever seen, the great Hevald - her father and former Lord of the Teliquan Clan. Prayton, her father's best friend and fellow warrior had taken her in shortly after the death of her father who had been stabbed with a poisoned blade when he slept. His death had been ruled a result of his wounds turning foul and Viocckr, having no opponent, had been declared Champion and King of Testria.
It had been an outrage to the Teliquan Tribe who buried their Lord and mourned his passing. Since her father’s death, all Loira had been able to think of was having the chance to fight in the Tournament, face the Prea k'aan scum in the arena, avenge her father and reclaim a stolen victory for her people. Because her father had had no male heir, upon his death they had named her cousin, Armas, Lord of their Clan in her stead as it was uncustomary to have a female rule.
In fact, if Loira was not mistaken, entering a female in the tournament had never happened before either and yet, Loira had taken great pains to ensure that she would be well schooled with not only the traditional weaponry of the Teliquan, but those of the other Tribes as well. By the time she was twenty she had been named Captain of the Third Camp which consisted of a small group of male warriors, mostly reserves who saw little battle. Over time she had moved up in ranks and now she was High Commander to the First Legion - an honor very rarely bestowed and never once, in the history of their people, to a woman.
Payton had often said that her father would have been proud of her. She liked to think so as well. The flap to her tent was whipped back, snapping her from her thoughts. She glanced up to see Payton, a man she loved deeply as the only father she had ever really known all her life, enter with a beaming smile on his withered face. He was still handsome, though far from his prime and pushing nigh on a century. His hair which had once been sable brown was now a deep shade of grey as were his eyes.
"Vorr told me the good news. Says you're to travel to the High Council at once. The whole First Legion is abuzz with word. At long last, the Gods have heard your prayers." A faint smile touched Loira's lips as she rose to meet him and instantly began collecting her weapons and armor that was sattered about; heaving it all on the cot.
"Aye, it seems as if Prila, Goddess of Fortune smiles on me this day, while Grist God of Mischief snickers at my back." Payton's brow creased in confusion and caught her wrist in her hand, forcing her to turn to him.
"I do not understand child...Lord Armas wishes to speak with you - you've been selected as our Champion for the Tournament...I fail to see any flaws in such a miracle which, despite all odds," Payton argued and jabbed a finger in her face as he spoke, "Has fallen into your lap!"
"Aye!" Loira replied and curtly batted away his hand which he had left to hover between them. "Each Tribe is to select two champions are they not?" Loira demanded, trying to keep her frustration from her voice despite its rising decibel.
"Aye!" Payton growled, annoyance clawing at his gut as well.
"And clearly I am to be one of them, correct?" Loira continued, her tone raising another notch and as it did she took one step closer in defiance. It was a move Payton matched in spite.
"Aye!" Payton shot back and angled his head as if daring her to challenge him further.
"Then who - in all of damnation - do you think is going to be Armas's second choice?" By now they were practically nose to nose, eyes bulging and blood boiling, Payton opened his mouth to shout back at her when suddenly, something in her deep blue eyes made it all click and realization dawned on him like a hard slap in the face. His eyes grew wide and his features blanched instantly.
"Oh!" He gasped and then, as if weakened by the thought dropped with a thud on the edge of her cot. "Oh! But surely not -."
"Aye." Loira growled while gripping her wildly curly auburn hair in both hands. "That no good rake, that conniving bastard; that reckless whoreson who has too much talent in combat for his own good!"
"No!" Payton sputtered, "But...by the Gods not--!"
"Aye, Payton." Loira breathed through a weary sigh. "Javis Ruun...Gods be merciful."
