David Thompson
Stories
10
Chapters
4,245
Words
699.7 K
Comments
0
Reading
2 d, 10 h
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It didn't take me very long to find Arthur's army. Their camp stretched out alongside the road in a column 15 tents wide, disappearing over the next hill. They were marching in step and still a couple of days out. I was certain the city knew about their coming, as scouts surely could have made it back to report such an obvious force. But there had been no preparations, from what I could tell, for their attack. Perhaps the city wasn't as well prepared as we had thought. Or maybe Arthur was doing…-
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The rest of Bee's meeting in the salon went more to plan than the first half. Her aunt kept drinking a shocking amount but never really seemed affected by it. Bee eventually questioned her after what must have been her tenth drink, and she said he had something to do with her merchant class. After that, Bee became even more wary of the strength of these drinks. Instead, she got the waiter to bring her some water and real orange juice. As she cut into pancakes topped with sugary syrup, they talked about…
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Harold rapped three times on the closed door. He waited a second and then knocked twice more in a particular cadence. The door creaked open, and he slipped inside, checking over her shoulder to make sure he still wasn't being followed. He was greeted with the sight of an elderly woman standing over a bedridden figure. A fireplace crackled merrily near the back of the room, silhouetting the pair. "How's he doing?" He whispered to the healer. "Same as last time," she croaked at him, her voice rusty…
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Nearly ten minutes later, Bee found herself in what her aunt called a salon. Sure, it looked a little fancy, like what she would expect, but that was only at first glance. The nice building with gold trim and pretty pastel colors housed an entryway. They went up to the door, and soon, a well-dressed maid led them to a table in a private alcove with a small candle lighting up the dimness. Before they had a chance to look at any menu or ask about what food was available, the maid left, and Beatrix smiled.…
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.r72debe1a2bcb4b639884369bafb9b0ef{ display: none; } The ghost demon looked at the piece of paper hovering in the air in front of him and scrunched up his brow. His expression looked quite funny as he read it. "Tasks I can perform. Why, I'm a demon! I can rip your enemies limb from limb, I am so strong!" He reached down to pick up a chair sitting not that far away from him and phased right through its back. He then tried to bend down and pick it up again. "Um. Well. Uh... I can spy on your enemies?…
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The thing could see me. I wasn't sure what to make of that. I was still bending the light around me such that nothing should be able to register visually. A quick check indicated that no light was escaping my carefully designated patterns, so clearly, it was using some other senses. He also knew I was a god. It was fairly obvious that this thing wasn't really a human. No human besides Arthur had ever called me a godling, and he'd only taken up the name after Beatrice's introduction. But this thing…
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Bee stepped past Mrs. Chadwick and glanced around the manor with suspicion. Was there some sort of city official that had found them or some sort of dispute about the deed to the place? She walked slowly toward the sitting room, mind whirling with possibilities and plans for how to deal with this situation. When she got there, Bee's face paled. A tall, severe woman sat with her legs crossed in an armchair. Her short brown hair was cut straight just below her chin, and her eyes narrowed in seemingly…
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As I followed Beatrice away from the meeting place in the early evening, I couldn't help but think about how well that went. The way Beatrice was acting would have made me expect some level of animosity from the man, but he had been nothing but polite and seemed to be perfectly willing to help us accomplish our goals. I honestly couldn't have seen a better outcome. Beatrice still carried some tension in her shoulders as she stalked through the alleyways that led towards the more fancy areas of town. But…
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Amidst the slums of the capitol, surrounded on all sides by dilapidated buildings and ramshackle abodes, stood an island of cleanliness. A strangely pristine building bearing fresh paint and freshly swept walkways. That wasn't to say the building was impressive, of course. It was just as cheaply made as those around it, its walls and roof consisting of simple rough timbers. But someone had obviously taken the time to polish it up to the best of their abilities. Bee swallowed nervously as she walked up…
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A short while later, Beatrice walked out of a clothing store sporting a brand-new set of white robes, not like the ones the street preachers wore, of course. She wasn't trying to be a copycat. White was just a nice color. These robes boasted quite nice gold edging and a few additional accents that really matched her eyes. We also made sure to pick up an overcoat to protect her clothes from the city's filth when I wasn't around to keep watch. All in all, I thought we did pretty well. Beatrice seemed…
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