William Jones
Stories
10
Chapters
3,868
Words
2.6 M
Comments
0
Reading
8 d, 21 h
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Baron Tobias Chintzworthy, Lord of Northguard, Protector of the Northern Territories, and veteran collector of bugs, was having a bad morning. In a stunning betrayal, moths had gotten into his clothes closet, and his 2nd best robe was full of holes. Robes three and four had been used by his seamstress to patch his best robe long ago. That robe had now given up any semblance of being threadbare clothing and transformed into a pile of thread and scraps. Wearing his pajamas and a partial robe, he roamed his…-
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"You enjoyed that far too much." Suzette was pouring strong tea from a pot and passing it out to everyone. Layla took hers and smiled without shame, admitting as much. "Nothing says I can't enjoy my role in our little play-acting. But I'll make it up to you and let you stab those odious creatures first. I want them dead, but you had to endure quite a bit more of their abuse." "Trust me, if I thought I could solve the problem by getting rid of them, I'd have poisoned the peanuts. But you're right; I don't…
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Theordis hated being surprised and off balance. The bottles of wine the group had consumed weren't helping his ability to think quickly. He tried to counter with bluster. "What is the meaning of barging in here? This is a private meeting." The man in the pin-striped suit's head snapped around too quickly, and he glared at Theordis through yellow, reptilian eyes. "Be silent, you sniveling sycophant, or I shall rip your treacherous tongue out." He glared at the tax collector and took a step. The other five…
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The Tavern was quite full as the taxmen entered. Their guards each got a beer and went to sit in the stables with the horses. One scribe named Kenneth Higgins ventured to the bar at the order of Theordis, ordered three glasses of small beer and three Blud Dark for their table, and inquired about the Mayor. No one seated at any of the tables stood out. The barmaid, however, stood out quite a bit. The scribe had suddenly found himself staring and unable to speak as the half-elven girl stared at him with…
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Finding the Mayor of Sedgewick proved difficult. A helpful young woman hauling a large wagon of barrels directed them to a building she said was the Mayor's office. Geoffrey made a note of the contents of the wagon. The 130-gallon butts of apple wine each had the words ' Like other people working in the town, the woman seemed unnaturally strong. She didn't seem to have any trouble moving a wagon that should have had a team of four mules pulling it. Manfred was trying to get her information without being…
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As Geoffrey returned from looking at the flying ship, Manfred noticed his pace was quick, and his brow furrowed. "Let me guess, you saw something interesting and are trying to figure out how to make money off it?" Geoffrey looked up; that had indeed been a close guess. "Manfred, my old friend, you have a good sense of what an item is worth owing to your high level of Identification. Would you do me the favor of telling me something about that building?" He pointed to a large building with several…
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The party of imperial accountants and their entourage left Rowan Keep, Theordis stating he had finished for the day and would do the rest on their return trip. He was quite shaken by something. When Manfred and Geoffrey heard the story being passed around by the guards, they chuckled. Theordis saw things one way and would rather try to change the course of a river than admit he built the bridge in the wrong place. His main expertise was in overlooking the work done on roads, Legion outposts, and other…
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With a small flash of light, several people appeared on the teleporter at Rowan Keep. They paused momentarily, looking around at the new construction and half-built walls. Four of the men were bodyguards. The other three were imperial bureaucrats. As they stepped aside, three scribes, one groom, and the first of ten horses appeared. The bureaucrats could be easily recognized by their more expensive clothing, shoes not made for walking outdoors, and perpetual scowls. They seemed to have the same look…
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Vernon Throckmorton stared at his mostly useless group of managers, searching their tanned and perfect faces for some hint of an idea about how to deal with the current situation. He saw nothing. One of them was at least reading the briefing material he had dictated before the meeting. Ricardo was a new face at ACME. Nepotism at its finest. Someone that Ricardo was friends with knew Willy. Willy had hired him, and someone had tossed him to Vern. Vern couldn't fire him, just pass him on to someone else. He…
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Jack raced through the Smoke, leaping from current to current as he searched for the troublesome Butcher and Captain. How had they done this? They were long shots—secondary characters in his grand design. Captain Sharkovic was still building a crew of heroes. The Great Ship Vardark was still aground on an island filled with savages. He hadn't even talked to the Weaponeers of the Deep Fire or begun talks with the Smokeling Horde. His entire story was coming apart as Cyclones waged war across the planes.…
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