Fantasy Book: Unnamed

[homerpalooza67]

I'm writing a fantasy novel, and i'd like some C&C. It takes place in a "Tolkienish" setting, technology varies from country to country. A race of Men (including half-elves) developed a high standard of living, roughly 14th century technology, with 17th century naval technology.
other countries have developed strong Naval technology as well, but not quite on par. The dwarves have the most advanced sword-smiths, (except for the elves). Their stone and masonry skills are unsurpassed by any other race. The elves are pretty aloof here.
There is magic, but it is (usually) very subtle (ie, swords can be imbued with special "virtues" that go beyond the regular physical, etc)
Women are trained in rudimentary warfare, as most of the country is frontier, and they cannot always rely on husbands and sons to protect them. Few join the armies, but it does happen on occasion.

The City of Glenwater Vale is a mix of Minas Tirith (from Lord of the Rings) to Krondor (from Raymond E. Feist's Magician series)

Characters:
Rianna - Lady of Glenwater Vale, capital of Nor'senath, The Northlands. She was responsible for preventing the kings death in the orc-raid 20 years previously. Great-granddaughter of Lord Paeryn and Mother of Halbarad (main protagonist)
Gildor - very "Gandalf-ish" character, secondary protagonist
Halbarad - The late brother of Rianna, he died defending her and his other sisters in an orc raid, 20 years earlier. His oldest nephew was named in his memory.
Halbarad - Main protagonist, named after his uncle, and carrying his uncles sword, Naralil, an Elven blade, originally made for Lord Paeryn as a wedding gift.

Rangers - They make up the elite of the Kings Army and the Kings Guard. When one joins the Rangers, he (or she, in a few rare cases) is apprenticed to an older, more experienced Ranger, until he completes his own training. Roughly half stay to take an apprentice, to teach and hone their skills of survival and fighting. After successfully training an apprentice, the senior ranger usually returns home and joins the Army, Guard or Militia (the latter being an informal group of veterans who can be called into the army in an emergency, but otherwise lead normal lives). Ranger training is grueling and dangerous. Few are killed, but it does happen on occasion. Little is known about the rangers outside of their group, but young nobles often are sent to prevent "armchair politics" when they assume their office.

Chapter 1: Farewell

Rianna shivered in the cold. It had been nearly two weeks; he would be returning tommorow. She shivered again. Gildor was famous throughout all the lands, although he had many names. Gildor could have passed for an old man, bent and stooped over his staff. He had fooled many people on his journeys, being mistaken for a begger by most. She had recognized him right away, even though she had never seen him before. It was the elvish blood, there was no other explanation. Her great-grandmother had been an elf, fallen in love with a human. Lord Paeryn wasn't just any human though, he was the lord of Glenwater Vale, at the eastern edge of the Great Mountians. Lord, and second only to the king of Nor'senath, the Northlands. The position was held now by her husband, as she had no brothers left.

Halbarad was killed defending his little sisters, he had been barely seventeen at the time. The orcs had attacked Glenwater in the night. No warning, no provocation. As Halbarad fell, Rianna had picked up his sword, Naralil, and did not put it down until the orcs were completely destroyed. The lightning-swift attack was meant to throw the kingdom into confusion; had her family not been in the castle, it surely would have succeded. The king himself had been gravely wounded, that he lived for five years following the attack was surprising to everyone, no one thought he would live the night. Gildor had known of the attack. He had come to warn them, but he was too late. She herself had slain the beast attacking him (the king), but she feared that he would die anyway. All her father had said was that an old man had come in the night, and left before dawn.

And now he was back. Gildor may have had everyone believe he was just a harmless begger, but she knew better. He is no more man than I she thought to herself. She would have welcomed him, but he had not come for a friendly visit. He had come for Halbarad, named for the uncle he never knew, wielding his uncles sword with the strength of will so much like her beloved brother. The name was fitting, she had no doubt. It was mainly because of this resemblance, she felt like she was losing her brother again. But this time it was her son.

Halbarad walked up to the villa. He had known what was expected of him since he could walk, being a loyal son of Nor'senath. He could not just walk away from his responsibilities. He saw his mother emerge from the house. It was not as luxorious as the common houses of the cities of old, or so the tales said. But in Glenwater Vale, the capital of Nor'senath, the heart of the Northlands, there was nothing common at all.
He picked up his pace to hurry up the walk, and saw his mother shiver again. He knew what was in store for himself; he was to be apprenticed to the wizard, Gildor, Chief of the Rangers. Although young, he was the best ranger in the city. It was said that at the very edge of the kingdom, in the border town of Ersagor, by the Wild Lands, the Rangers gathered and trained in the defense of the country. Life was brutal, there, it was said, but the harships were a forge, turning the soft iron into hard steel. And it was there that Gildor would be taking him, to join the Rangers of Nor'senath, to defend king and country at all costs. He would be gone for two years and a day. The trip would be ardous and grueling, but it wouldn't hold a candle to the life of a Ranger. He would not see his mother for a long time yet. He might not even see her again. I will return he promised her quietly. He would not just because he had to. He would, because he must.

* * *

Chapter 2

The sky lit up before them. Seconds later, a loud blast of thunder shook the ground. Halbarad was bent over slightly, his cloak wrapped around himself as tightly as he could manage. They were nearly two weeks out from Glenwater, but their destination was still a full week ahead of them. The lights of Highland Crossing were just visible through the thick rain. Highland Crossing stood at the meeting point between the Northern Highway and Mountian Road. Mountian road ran straight through the mountiants, there was a gap, a small valley and little more, that wound through the feet of Mir'ius to the coastlands.

"The cities of the Dwarves lie on the Western side of Mir'ius. They guard the highway well, for it is the major trade route with the kingdom," Gildor was explaining, "and the king patrols our side also. The free nations and the islands also enjoy trade with us, with the dwarves, and even the elves, and it is in their best interest to keep the road open. " The free nations were a group of small countries, allied for mutual protection and economy, and fiercly independent. Deepburn Castle was the smallest of these, little more than a medium city itself. Fed up with all the constant border raids between <Eastern City-State> and <South-Western City-State>, they simply declared themselves independent from both, and promised savage retaliation if either side tried to pull anything like that again. Few in the west remembered that most of the independent nations had been vassals of the United Kingdom, of which Nor'senath was merely a largish fragment.

By this time, they had already reached the village of Highland Crossing. It really is a small city, Halbarad thought to himself. The residents insisted that the concept of a city was too cold a definition to be applied to their home. A village is small cozy, warm and friendly they would say. A city is just a big marketplace - no character or personality at all! He was very glad to be getting out of the cold rain. It would be just like Gildor to skip by the village altogether, and have them sleep in the rain. During the past two weeks they had plenty of discomfort, and even Gildor was not totally immune to the elements.

Ranger training would be nothing like he imagined. Every newcomer would be apprenticed to a seasoned veteran. The goal was not just survival. While few died during the training, raiding parties of orcs and goblins were not uncommon. Mastery of the sword was only a small part, being able to pick apart an enemy's strategy and use it to your advantage, and the ability to survive under harsh circumstances were the key. One who wished to become a full ranger must be able to have an unbreakable will, and a love for king and country beyond the norm. These were the traits that made them feared throughout the wilds, for they would not, could not stop to achieve their goals.