Matthew Jones
Stories
7
Chapters
2,283
Words
4.7 K
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Reading
23 m
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Quite frankly, I took Juri's words at an utter surprise. Trever making good on his promise was not something I expected. And if the pieces Juri has been dropping all over his tale, then Trever making good on his threat means serious bad news for the people of Demme. And now I've begun to think that they would likely be far better off had they accepted Trever's offer. "What did he do?" Anselm asks, impatient listener that he is. Juri looks truly disgusted as he summons up the memory of the events, he…-
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Galloping through the plains, Anselm and I patiently listen to Juri's tale. I'm sure the man has taken my warning to heart, especially with Anselm not cutting me down. He picks off where he left off as soon as I give him the say so, "Yes of course." He mutters. "The Mayor, Trever, he saw potential in the village to the North, and though their ranks maybe the same, he reigned over a much more lucrative city and they were a simple village numbering barely up to five hundred people, including those that…
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"Are you sure you saw them head this way?" Juri asks, and annoyingly not for the first time. Lazily, I lift my tired head from the neck of my trotting horse and look at the tall, broad man fitted in fine steel armour and set right with his large broadsword. "Do you doubt my magic, Juri?" The man hesitates to answer. Good, this is how it ought to be at the beginning. The friendly, quick to speak nature of these my so-called councilmen irks me. I would have thought throwing the Diviner in a dungeon and…
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"Aren!?" She's been screaming his name in outrage for quite some time now, "Of all the freaking people Asher, you just have to pick the person with the least qualifications!" "I thought you got along well with Aren? Such hurtful words from someone he'd consider a friend." Hand on her temples, massaging best as she can she sighs, "We get along just fine thank you, but that doesn't change the fact that he's wholly unqualified for the position you're trying to dump on him." "Look at this place!" She urges,…
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A wistful, thoughtful look spreads across her face as she looks through the shelve of books that line the walls of my office. I figured Serue was quite the bookworm given the sheer number of scrolls, books, notes. If there's anything with a word written on it Serue is likely to have it. I'm not sure what topic the books all cover though, some of them, to Hastra's thankfulness, cover some topics on administration. At this point I'm not surprised that the people of this world would be civilized enough to…
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It all comes back to the damned Wolf, doesn't it? Admittedly, it's the Wolf's powers that have gotten me this far and the reason I'm alive to lament these problems. Namely the budding hunger I feel crawling and creeping around the corner and recesses of my mind. I've got to find sometime to pay a visit to Frozia so I can kill the Gamma I left there. Though I would much prefer to ask Lotar what the big idea is on the hunger I'm feeling, the Wolf Deity seems to be unavailable or deliberately ignoring…
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It's been two whole days since I, or perhaps more honestly, Maylin drove Serue off. As we agreed she took what she needed, which happened to be a surprisingly modest piece of the wealth amassed in the vault's underneath Serue's Palace, or more practically, my Palace. She muttered something about money buying only reliance and crippling inability. Despite my money mongering background, I understood what she meant completely. With tokus in hand it's unlikely anyone will want to work for their piece any…
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She stood there with little to no shame, hand out and expecting. I let out a tired sigh, quite honestly the woman can have whatever shit she wants if she just leaves me with my head. But I know that's behaviour worth admonishment from someone who's about to take the reigns of the entire March. I need to negotiate, to show at the very least that I don't intend to be a push over leader. It's as much for her as it is for me. "Why do you even need any of that? Gold I mean, you and the elves under your care…
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The pressure of a thunderstorm over my head did not alleviate, partly because Maylin did not deign to alleviate the brewing thunderstorm over my head even after Serue took his fanciful leave via tear in space. She's staring down at me now, they both are, Anselm and she find my…lack of preparation and even worse, complete disregard for her daughters safety disturbing. I've been anticipating this conversation with Maylin for some time yet, and I've got the best response I can think of down to a pat. My…
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"Maylin…" Serue sneers, "Don't you come any closer." He presses the blade even deeper against my neck, it hurts but I can't exactly move away given he's still got control over my body. Maylin merely scoffs, I can't understand why she's chosen to don those strange…accessories. "You fool, we're trying to save your life and yet you prattle on. If I were you, any of you!" I can't really see behind me properly but I'm certain she's pointing at Audwin and the Matron, "I would get back and as far away as…
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