Tales of the Company of the Spear (fiction)

Beautifully translated!
Thank you.:smiley:

1 Like

Jeremiah’s Tale, part 1

Many years ago:

The boy crashed through the underbrush, lost in a blind rage, paying no attention to where he was going, to the forest around him, or to the darkening sky. He had stumbled off of any path hours before, and now simply charged ahead, seething with anger, heedless of the brambles that tore at his cloak and his skin. Birds took flight in alarm and small animals darted away as he passed; they could feel the storm of emotions that gripped the boy, and wanted no part of it.

Finally he stopped, gasping for breath and trembling with exhaustion. His eyes darted around as he realized the lateness of the hour, and the fact that he had no idea where he was. He’d heard tales of what happened to those lost in the forest at night, stories of foul creatures that would suck the life out of the unwary – or worse, take their souls, leaving them to wander in a twilight world between life and death.

It was then that he noticed a motion in the branches overhead, a slight noise of something moving, stalking him. He looked up, and saw a malign shape silhouetted against the failing light of the sky, a shape that was much too large and had far too many legs and too many eyes.

He had no fear of spiders, not ordinary ones at least, the kind that spun webs in the rafters of the barn at home and trapped unwary insects for their meals. He’d watched them devour their prey, fascinated. It was somehow less fascinating when the spider was the size of a sheep, and he was the prey.

Other shadows moved, converging on him. It was not just a single spider, but a host of them. And he was surrounded. Fear gripped him as he realized the danger he was in.

Then one of the spiders leapt at him, and something within him snapped. The fear washed away, dissolved in pure fury. All of the anger that had been driving him all day suddenly came to a head, filling him and overflowing. He screamed his rage at the sky and lashed out at the horrid beasts around him.

The nearest spider exploded in a shower of gore and ichor. A horrible screeching surrounded him as the other spiders writhed in excruciating pain.

The next thing he knew he was kneeling on the ground, utterly drained, his body wracked by spasms as he tried to vomit up the contents of his stomach – but it was empty; he’d last eaten early that morning. The anger was gone. He felt only pain and weariness and sudden hunger.

Then a voice from behind him said, “Well, that was certainly an interesting display.”

The boy snapped back to alertness, and turned to face the new threat. What he saw was a pale-skinned man, middle-aged, with a balding head and a neat black beard flecked with gray, standing with his arms folded and watching him intently. The man wore a dark tunic over equally dark trousers; the boy couldn’t make out their true color in the dim light, but they might have been deep purple.

“Relax,” the man said, holding up one hand. “I’m no threat.”

“What are you doing here?” the boy gasped.

“I could ask you the same,” the man said with a wry tone in his deep voice. “As it happens, I was following you. You were creating such a commotion that I could sense it miles away.”

“Sense?” The boy eyed the man suspiciously. “How?”

The man gave a low chuckle. “You were causing quite a stir in the mana, that’s how. All that anger, all that rage – you were like a beacon, drawing mana into yourself and flinging it about indiscriminately. You have quite a bit of power, young man. Though I would hazard that you have no idea how to make use of it.”

“Power? Me?” The boy looked incredulous.

“Don’t act so surprised,” the man countered. “You must have suspected. You can sense it, can’t you? The flow of the mana through the world around you. It’s as plain as day to you.”

“Lots of people sense the mana,” the boy argued.

“And that’s part of the problem, isn’t it? They sense it in you. They know, even if they aren’t fully aware of it, that you can do more than feel it – you can grab hold of it and bend it to your will.” The man stared at the boy. “And that frightens them, doesn’t it? And not least because of the kind of power you have. They whisper it behind your back, don’t they? That your power arises from darkness.”

“I can’t do anything with mana,” the boy protested.

“Those spiders would disagree with you,” the man shot back, pointing at the still-smoking corpses surrounding the boy.

“I don’t – I didn’t…” the boy began.

“You don’t know how you did that?” The man nodded. “And that is why I am here. All that power, in the hands of a young boy with no idea how to control it – they are right to fear you.”

The man took a seat on a fallen log beside the boy, and extended a hand. “Let’s start over on a better footing, shall we? My name is Melchior. What’s yours?”

“Jeremiah,” the boy answered.

“Hello, Jeremiah. It’s a pleasure to meet you. Where are you from?”

“Edessos.”

“Edessos?” The man looked impressed. “That’s more than twenty miles from here.”

The boy looked startled. “Twenty miles? But that would put me…”

Melchior nodded solemnly. “Yes, Jeremiah. You’ve barged straight into the Deadlands.” He looked around. “You’re lucky I found you. There are far worse things than spiders in this forest. However, most of them were intelligent enough to run away from you.”

“I don’t understand,” Jeremiah said. “How could I have come so far without realizing it?”

“Well, having been a young boy myself once, I think I do understand. You’re what, thirteen years old?”

“Fifteen.”

“Ah,” the man said. “Yes, small for your age. That would make it worse. Let me guess – you got into a fight. Not too risky a wager, given that black eye you’re sporting.”

Jeremiah nodded. “Hector. He’s…”

“Older? Bigger? Stronger?”

“And the son of the Lord of Edessos,” the boy added.

“Really? I know Lord Markham. He always struck me as rather a harsh lord, but nonetheless very even-handed in his judgments, treating both rich and poor with equal severity. Some might even call him just. But his son is different?”

“Not like Lord Markham at all,” Jeremiah said. “He thinks he can take whatever he wants. And because he’s big and has friends who back him up, a lot of the time he can.”

Melchior nodded. “I see. And the girl? What was her name? There’s usually a girl involved, at your age.”

Jeremiah stared at the ground. “Naomi,” he croaked out.

“Naomi,” Melchior mused. “Lovely name. For me, her name was Susannah.”

Jeremiah looked at him curiously, and Melchior smiled. “As I said, I was your age, once. So I can guess what happened next. You attempted to defend the girl from this Hector’s advances, and Hector and his friends beat you for it.”

Jeremiah nodded, his face burning in shame.

“And so you ran,” Melchior continued. “And not realizing what you were doing, you sustained yourself with mana so that you could run faster and farther than you thought possible. All the while wrapped in a blind rage.” He looked around at the rapidly darkening forest. “Well, you won’t be getting home tonight, I’m afraid.”

“But…”

“But where will you go? Well, you certainly can’t spend the night out here. On the other hand, my home is only two miles away, more or less, on the edge of the forest. We can get there in under an hour. You’re welcome to spend the night there.”

Suspicion was evident on Jeremiah’s face. “And why would you welcome a complete stranger into your home?”

“Well, I came out here to help you,” Melchior said, “but by the time I found you, you had already dealt with the trouble you found yourself in.” He gestured again at the dead spiders. “Clearly you’ve found a power you didn’t know you had. Something inside you has been unlocked. And that makes you a danger, to yourself and to those around you.”

“A danger? How?”

“Tell me,” Melchior challenged, “if you were to run into this Hector now, what do you think would happen?”

Jeremiah took a long look at the dead spiders. “Exactly,” Melchior said. “It’s quite likely that he would wind up like them. Or worse. And what would your Naomi think of you then? What would your family think? And how would Lord Markham respond?” The man shook his head. “And it might not be only Hector. You have no control over this power, Jeremiah. Innocent bystanders might be killed. You might even destroy yourself. Or Naomi.”

Jeremiah recoiled in horror at the thought. “But…”

“But how do you learn control?” Melchior nodded. “That’s where I come in. I have that same power, Jeremiah. Although perhaps not as much raw ability as you have. But what I also have is discipline. I can use that power when and as I please. And that is something that can be taught.”

Jeremiah nodded. “And if you teach me control, I won’t be so dangerous?”

“Quite the contrary,” Melchior said. “You will become quite a bit more dangerous than you are now. Just not so indiscriminately dangerous. You will be precisely as dangerous as you choose to be, and to whom. Or, if you choose, you can use your power in other ways. To aid. To heal.”

“Heal?” Jeremiah looked confused. “But you said yourself – this is dark magic.”

“And does that mean it must be evil?” Melchior stared back at him. “No, boy, mana is just a tool. Like any tool, it can be turned to different ends, both benign and malignant. The kind of mana you can focus makes no difference. The light mana can be turned to evil ends – I’ve seen it. And the dark can be used for good.”

“So,” Jeremiah said in a low voice, “I’m not…”

“Evil? That’s for you to decide,” Melchior said. “We all have choices in life, Jeremiah. Dark mana doesn’t make us evil. What it does is make us sensitive to what’s wrong in the world. We feel what’s broken, what’s twisted, what’s painful, more than others do. Now, some people choose to embrace the wrong, to turn it to their own advantage, spreading pain and suffering through the world for their own gain. Others of us choose a different path. We choose to fight what is wrong in this world.”

He fixed the boy in a hard stare. “You could be part of that fight, Jeremiah. If you choose. You could be a powerful champion for good. Of course, if you choose differently, you could do terrible things. I admit I am taking a chance on you by offering this.” Then he smiled. “But I am inclined to take that chance. Perhaps because you remind me of yourself, when I was your age.”

Jeremiah nodded slowly. “I want… to learn,” he said. “To control this. Because there’s so much wrong…”

Melchior stood abruptly, and extended a hand to the boy. “Let’s go then. It’ll be full dark before we get home, and it’s not safe out here at night.”

11 Likes

Beginning of another fine chapter! :+1:

Simply wonderful.
Jeremiah What a fascinating story to hide.

This is the first thing I have bookmarked. I can’t wait to read more. Well done. Thank you for sharing.

Jeremiah’s Tale, part 2

Three months later:

Jeremiah gave a sharp whistle, and a large dog immediately ran to intercept a trio of sheep who had tried to separate themselves from the rest of the flock. With the skill of long practice, the dog herded the errant sheep back to the flock, and kept a watchful eye on them as Jeremiah let them into their pen.

“Good girl, Petra,” Jeremiah called out to the dog. “You’d think these idiots would know by now that this is for their own good. It’s not safe out here at night.”

The dog, for whom the stupidity of sheep was an unalterable fact of life, merely wagged at the boy as he secured the door to the pen and then raised the magical wards that would keep predators away until the morning.

“There, that’s done,” he said to the dog. “Let’s go get some dinner, girl.”

The dog fell in beside him and they walked together towards a small cottage. The dog had been suspicious of Jeremiah the first time they had met, but had accepted her master’s word that the boy had no ill intent towards her people or her sheep. In the months since, the two had become close friends.

“Jeremiah!” a child’s voice called out. “Look what I got!”

Jeremiah waved at a small boy, about eight years old, who was running towards him. The smaller boy held the carcass of a rabbit in one hand.

“From the snares near the garden?” Jeremiah asked.

The boy nodded. “Now instead of him eating mother’s carrots, we’ll eat him!

“Yes we will, Simon, but not before we’ve cleaned him. Let’s get to work so that he’ll be ready in time for dinner, right?”

The boy beamed up at him, and followed Jeremiah and the dog into the cottage.

“Simon caught a rabbit, Susannah,” Jeremiah called to a plump dark-haired woman chopping vegetables in one corner of the cottage’s main room.

“Ah, some meat for the stew!” the woman said, smiling hugely. “Well, I suppose Melchior will want you to cut it all up before we eat it.”

“How come father always wants you to cut up the animals we catch?” Simon asked.

“It’s part of my training, squirt,” Jeremiah explained. “I need to know how animal bodies work if I’m going to use my magic on them.”

“Yeah, if you ever fight a giant rabbit,” the smaller boy said with a laugh.

“You never know,” Jeremiah said, taking a knife and getting to work skinning the rabbit. “Besides, the way the energy moves through the body is similar no matter what kind of animal it is. If I know how a rabbit works, I know how most animals work. Wolves, bears, horses…”

“Dragons?”

Jeremiah laughed. “Yes, Simon, even dragons. Though nobody’s seen one of those in a long time. They’ve been extinct for centuries. What people call ‘dragons’ these days aren’t true dragons, just wyverns.”

“Although you do hear stories,” a man’s voice cut in. Melchior came into the cottage bearing an armload of firewood.

“Oh, thanks, love,” Susannah said to her husband. “Put that by the fireplace, I’ll get started on the stew.”

Melchior carefully stacked the firewood and added a couple of pieces to the fire, then came over to the table where Jeremiah was working. “Still learning your anatomy?”

Jeremiah grinned. “It’s useful. Helps get dinner ready faster.”

“That it does,” Melchior agreed. “But I think it may be time to move you on to something a little more advanced. When you’re done with that, join me in the barn. Bring Petra.”

“Father, can you teach me to be a dark wizard too?” Simon asked, his face full of eager innocence.

“No, son, I can’t,” Melchior told him with a small smile. “Your talents lie in a different direction, one that your mother can show you much better than I can.”

“Here’s the rabbit, Susannah,” Jeremiah said. “Melchior, let me clean up and I’ll be right there.”

A few minutes later they exited the cottage, accompanied by the dog, and headed for a small barn next to the sheep-pen.

“I appreciate you being so good with Simon,” Melchior said as they walked. “I know he can be a handful.”

Jeremiah grinned. “He’s no trouble. I’m the youngest of five, so it’s kind of fun being the big brother for a change.”

“Still, I’m grateful. He looks up to you, and I think you’re a good influence on him.”

“Well, I’m grateful you took me in. I’ve learned a lot, and to be honest, this is much nicer than home ever was.”

Melchior nodded. “You’re welcome to stay as long as you like. Besides, you’re a tremendous help with the farm. Here, into the barn. Shut the door behind you.”

“What are we doing?” Jeremiah asked.

“You’ve done enough with dead animals,” Melchior explained. “It’s time you studied a living one. Lie down, Petra,” he ordered, and the dog obeyed, thumping her tail on the ground a few times.

“Good girl,” the man said, scratching the dog behind the ears. “She’s been a great help, this dog. She’s been part of this house for over twelve years now. That’s a long time for a dog her size.”

Jeremiah nodded. “Her hips bother her sometimes, though, don’t they?”

“A little. It’s to be expected in a dog her age. But let’s give her a good, thorough examination, shall we?” Melchior settled into a cross-legged seated position on the ground next to the dog, and motioned to Jeremiah to do the same.

“Now, close your eyes,” Melchior ordered. “See the mana. Feel it.”

Jeremiah closed his eyes, and let his mind grow still. He reached out with his mind and relaxed into the flow of mana around him and through him.

“Good,” Melchior said. “Now, have a look at Petra here.”

Jeremiah, still with his eyes closed, focused his attention on the animal in front of him. “I see her,” he said.

What he saw was a dog-shaped swirl in the mana, as the mystical energy flowed around and through Petra. He could see the green of life flow through her organs, the happy golden glow of her canine mind, and just a touch of blue in her hip joints where arthritis pained them slightly, all surrounded by a warm red radiance. And also…

“Something’s not right,” he said softly.

“Tell me what you see,” Melchior commanded.

Jeremiah looked along the dog’s spine. The flow of energy along it was natural, unimpeded, but near the pelvis there was an odd bright-green knot in the mana. “Something in her back,” he said. “About the size of an acorn. It’s small, but… wrong. I don’t know how else to explain it.”

“It’s a tumor.”

Jeremiah’s eyes snapped open in shock. “You mean…”

“It happens in dogs this age,” the man said sadly. “It’s small, yes, but it will grow. If nothing is done, in a few months it will paralyze her. And ultimately kill her.”

A stricken look appeared on the boy’s face. “Isn’t there anything we can do?”

“As a matter of fact, there is,” Melchior said. “I told you when we first met that even dark mana can be used to heal. Today I’m going to show you what that means. Close your eyes again, and watch.”

Jeremiah did, allowing his mystical vision to return. He saw Melchior put his hands on the dog’s back, and the flow of mana through the dog immediately shifted. Slender tendrils of purple energy extended from the man’s fingertips, flowing through the dog’s body and finding the tumorous mass inside the dog, surrounding it with a dark glow.

“First, we isolate the tumor,” Melchior explained. “And then…”

Jeremiah saw energy flow from the ground through Melchior’s body, concentrating first in his head, and then moving down his right arm into his hand. When it reached his fingertips, it abruptly flashed and sent a bolt of power lancing into the tumor.

“…we poison it,” the man concluded.

“Poison?” Jeremiah repeated.

“Yes, poison. Directly into the tumor – it will absorb the poison and slowly die. And yes, a little will leak into the surrounding muscle, but not enough to cause permanent damage.”

“And this will cure her?”

“I hope so, but there are no guarantees.” He ruffled the dog’s ears fondly. “We’ll need to repeat this treatment every few days until the tumor is gone. We’ve caught it early enough that I have hope of it working. And that is how you heal with dark magic. You destroy what’s wrong so that the healthy parts have a chance.”

Melchior let out a long sigh then, and he seemed lost in thought. “What is it?” Jeremiah asked.

“Nothing, Jeremiah. It’s – well, it was a long time ago.” He wrung his hands in frustration. “Susannah’s mother – well, she never approved of my approach to magic. So she wouldn’t let me help her until it was too late.”

“I’m sorry.”

“So am I. But it’s something you’ll have to deal with your entire life. Using the dark mana makes people fear you. They’ve seen how easily it can be twisted to evil ends. As if the other kinds of mana can’t also be used wrongly. The light mana, the so-called holy magic – it can make a person sensitive to all that is good and right and divine in the world. And it can also make a person rigidly moralistic and intolerant. Likewise the blue can make one rational and calm, or unfeeling and coldly ruthless. Or the red can fill one with love or with hate, depending on which way one’s passions run. And the green, the mana of nature and life – well, just look at the tumor in Petra’s spine if you want to see how that can go wrong.”

“So there’s wrong everywhere in the world,” Jeremiah said with a shrug. “I knew that already.”

“There’s more wrong than you know, boy.”

Jeremiah looked at his tutor curiously. “What do you mean?”

Melchior’s shoulders slumped. “I probably shouldn’t show you this, but…” He gave Jeremiah a sad look. “You’re powerful enough that you’ll figure it out on your own soon enough.” He closed his eyes again and said, “Look, Jeremiah. Look at the mana. Let it flow through you. See how it moves through the earth.”

Jeremiah closed his eyes and once again let his mana-sight take over. He let his awareness sink into the ground, become one with it. His consciousness expanded past the borders of his body and merged with the world, following the lines of energy that swirled through the earth and the air and the waters.

And then he felt it. A pull from the east, deep in the earth. Something trying to draw him in. Something cold and dark and sinister.

“There’s… something there,” he whispered. “In the Deadlands, under the ground. Something very… very… hungry.”

“Yes, I know,” Melchior said in an equally soft voice. “A disruption in the mana. Something drawing power to itself and consuming it and corrupting it somehow. Like a tumor, eating at the heart of the world.”

“What is it?”

“I don’t know,” the older man admitted. “But I do know that it’s growing, becoming stronger. And I know that it isn’t the only one.”

Both of them withdrew from the mana then, bringing their awareness back to the barn around them, to the ground they sat on and to the dog that lay calmly between them.

“Stronger?” Jeremiah repeated.

“When I was your age, the Deadlands were much smaller than they are now,” Melchior said. “We didn’t have to place magical wards to protect our homes and our livestock from things that hunted in the night. We didn’t have to fear the future. But now… Yes, I fear what is happening. The Deadlands grow a little more with every season, and the creatures that inhabit them grow bolder. How long can we stay here? How long can I allow my family to live in a place that becomes more dangerous with each passing year? I had hoped to pass this farm to my son some day, but my worry is that life here will become untenable before I have the chance.”

“What can we do about it?”

“Do?” Melchior shook his head. “This is much bigger than us, Jeremiah. I don’t know that there’s anything we can do, except try to stay out of its way. I’m no master mage from one of the old epics – I’m just a shepherd who has some skill with mana.”

They sat in silence for a few minutes, thinking dark thoughts. But then the dog sat up between them and sniffed the air, thumping her tail against the ground.

Melchior smiled. “Ah, Petra, you do have a point. That rabbit stew smells about ready, doesn’t it? Come, Jeremiah, let’s eat. The problems of the world can wait for another day.”

11 Likes

I’ll be waiting in that line with you! :slight_smile:

Again, my compliments.

Well written backstory. As I read, it unfolds in my mind like a movie, reminding me a bit of all the stories I grew up with. A bit of Star Wars, (tapping into the Force, Dark & Light), A bit of Lord of the Rings, Some of the RPG games I grew up with etc etc.

Can’t wait to read the rest. But my tip for you, Don’t rush it, think it through, you’ll have to live each chapter in your mind before putting it to paper. Once it’s out, your mark is made, good or not.

So tread wisely on your path…
quality over quantity.

2 Likes

Jeremiah’s Tale, part 3

Four years later:

Jeremiah was working on repairing the sheep pen when Melchior arrived home.

“Welcome back,” the younger man said.

Melchior surveyed the damage to the fence around the pen and frowned. “Again?”

Jeremiah nodded. “Werewolf. It tore through the wards, destroyed the fence, and got three sheep before I could stop it. I tossed the corpse behind the barn; we can bury it later. Simon’s out rounding up the sheep that escaped.”

The older man sighed. “It’s as I feared,” he said. “It’s getting worse – everywhere along the frontier of the Deadlands. Monsters, bandits, goblins…”

“And the news from Edessos?” Jeremiah’s eyes betrayed his eager interest.

“Worse and worse. Lord Hector isn’t bothering to protect his tenants out on the borders of his realm, so they’re easy pickings. When they petition him for aid, he simply tells them that they had better pay their rents in full and on time, or else.

Jeremiah’s only response was to spit on the ground.

“It gets worse,” Melchior continued. “Hector rides through Edessos surrounded by his guards, seizing anything that catches his eye and beating anyone who protests. Or killing them.”

“Killing?” Jeremiah’s expression grew dark.

Melchior nodded. “No young woman is safe from Hector’s attentions, and if husbands or brothers or fathers protest…” He drew a finger across his throat sharply. “He’s murdered at least three men already.”

“Something has to be done about him,” Jeremiah said with clenched fists.

“Oh, indeed, something has to be done,” Melchior agreed. “But by whom? In the old days peasants who were abused by their lord could appeal to the King of Windemer. But as there hasn’t been a king for centuries, that’s out of the question. In theory the Lord’s Council now wields the power of the king in trust, but the Lords look out for their own interests. All they would do is give Lord Hector a strongly-worded reprimand. Do you honestly believe that would have any effect on him?”

“I can’t just do nothing,” Jeremiah protested. “I need to go back there.”

“And do what? Take on Hector all by yourself? Jeremiah, you have become a powerful wizard, far more powerful than I am, but you are only one man. Meanwhile Hector has his guards, and wizards of his own.”

Jeremiah stared off into space for a long moment. Then he said, in a slow, contemplative voice, “If he’s as bad as you say then I can’t be the only one who’s angry enough to do something.”

Melchior nodded. “Yes, that’s true. I could feel it when I was there. People in Edessos are simmering with rage. They are about to boil over. But,” he said, suddenly very stern, “think very carefully about what that means, Jeremiah. If the folk of Edessos revolt, there will be much death and destruction, no matter who wins.”

Jeremiah nodded slowly. “And if they would happen to win, and overthrow Hector, then the lordship of Edessos passes to his uncle. Who, by all accounts, is as bad as he is.”

“Yes, now you see the problem.”

“So,” Jeremiah continued, “perhaps the answer is for the people of Edessos to have no lord at all.”

Melchior looked alarmed. “You can’t be serious.”

“I’ve heard of such things. There are independent cities and towns in the world where the people choose their own rulers, electing a mayor to govern them.”

“Do you think for a moment that the Lord’s Council would allow that? They’d send troops to occupy Edessos and oust any elected government. And reprisals against the rebels and anyone connected to them would be harsh in the extreme. Jeremiah,” Melchior said, spreading his hands helplessly, “I can’t risk that. I have a family. I have to protect them.”

“I know,” Jeremiah said.

“And if you are determined to pursue this course…”

“Then I have to leave here, and not come back,” Jeremiah continued. “I know.”

Melchior looked at him, his eyes full of sorrow. “I’m sorry, Jeremiah. I wish I could do more. I’ve tried to teach you as best I could…”

“No need to apologize, my friend. I’ve learned a lot from you.”

“I feel as though I am watching you go to your death,” Melchior said, “and there’s nothing I can do to stop you.”

“Perhaps that’s true. But I have to do this. It’s what you taught me – destroy the bad so that the good has a chance to survive.”

“Is there no other way, Jeremiah?”

“Maybe there is,” the young man said. “Maybe… But I need to go there and see for myself.”

“Susannah and the children will be devastated.”

“I know, and I’m sorry. But I was never going to stay here forever. It’s time for me to go.”

“How soon?”

“Tomorrow,” Jeremiah answered. “Best not to drag this out.”

Melchior suddenly embraced the younger man. “You’ve been like a son to me,” he said. “Go with my blessing and my best wishes for you. But do take care. It’s a dark world out there.”

Jeremiah hugged him back. “I’ll be careful. Besides, dark is what I know best, isn’t it?”

11 Likes

Fascinating I like this Jeremiah, I still support you.

1 Like

Ah, such an inviting thought provoking tale. Thank you kind author.

1 Like

I’m going to throw rocks at my own roof, but I think it would be time to leave Jeremiah’s story aside and go back to the main story. So n9s leave wanting to know more and you reassure yourself that people will continue reading, not only for your wonderful narrative but for knowing later what happened to Jeremiah.

I know, now many of you will hate me. I’m hating myself.

I’m your no1 fan
…great work…when your book is done let me know… I will buy it for sure

2 Likes

I’m sorry @Aragon, but “I’mmm” the number 1 fan.

1 Like

Okay, @Zero2Hero and @Aragon - you will have to fight it out - off to the battlefield… lol

tumblr_m6a268xsep1r7k0sgo1_500

Actually my dog is my #1 fan, but y’all can arm-wrestle for #2.

And I kind of need to keep going with Jeremiah’s story for a bit before I get back to the main narrative, because I’m using it to set up what comes next.

6 Likes

Whaaaa???

20 yeah yeahs.

I think Jeremiah’s backstory is as important as any members of the Company of the Spear as it is said he’s been there a long time as far as the Captain could remember, and I am interested to know how Jeremiah went from a troubled youth that dabbled the dark arts to a skeletal revenant no longer able to speak and can only gesture that we see in the present day. Very exciting!

As this is, the tales of the entire company, I foresee that we will also get to the backstories of Drumnadrochit, Zila & Akwedas (How they met and joined the company), and even back to Siara (leading up to how she managed to run into Drumnadrochit in that tavern).

Much more interesting story board than the otherwise monotonous fighting Titan, kill Titan (or escape) and move onto the next Titan that the game presented players with.

Keep up the great work and look forward to chat about it.

5 Likes