<html xmlns:o="urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:office" xmlns:w="urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:word" xmlns:st1="urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" xmlns="http://www.w3.org/TR/REC-html40"> <head> <META HTTP-EQUIV="Content-Type" CONTENT="text/html; charset=windows-1250"> <meta name=ProgId content=Word.Document> <meta name=Generator content="Microsoft Word 10"> <meta name=Originator content="Microsoft Word 10"> <link rel=File-List href="cid:filelist.xml@01C7C58E.599C9390"> <o:SmartTagType namespaceuri="urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" name="City"/> <o:SmartTagType namespaceuri="urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" name="place"/>  <style>  </style>  </head> <body lang=EN-US link=blue vlink=purple style='tab-interval:.5in'> <div class=Section1> Here is a little preview. The first part of a story I am working on. Feel free to comment and make suggestions!<o:p></o:p> <o:p> </o:p> <o:p> </o:p> Chris<o:p></o:p> <o:p> </o:p> <o:p> </o:p> <o:p> </o:p> Plain and Simple<o:p></o:p> By Christian O’Kane<o:p></o:p> <o:p> </o:p>    George is a personal favorite of mine. He came about thru a debate on the MK mailing list. Christie bemoaned what she called the Superman syndrome. It was the habit of writers to create a character who was super powerful, capable of destroying huge numbers of enemies. Usually these characters had some deep, dark, world shattering secret. A secret so deadly that revealing it could shatter the whole world. She had a distinct point. Even I had created a super powerful character in Misha and that powerful axe of his. As a result I created a character who was the direct opposite - someone plain and simple. And thus George was born.  I deliberately made George simple. There are no hidden depths to him. He is as deep as a bowl of water. And yet I’ve grown to love him.<o:p></o:p> <o:p> </o:p> <o:p> </o:p> April 700 (6 years BEFORE Winter Assault)<o:p></o:p> <o:p> </o:p>   City of <st1:City><st1:place>Frondham</st1:place></st1:City>, The Outer <st1:place>Midlands</st1:place><o:p></o:p> <o:p> </o:p>    Hung over and feeling tired in spite off the sleep George sat on the edge of the bed trying to get his weary body moving. He managed to stand up feeling the aches and pains through his whole body with each step he took.<o:p></o:p> <o:p> </o:p>    The mirror was cracked and dirty which fit the cheap and dingy tavern he was in perfectly. Still he was able to see himself clearly enough. The figure that reflected back him was of middling height with a strong physique. What drew his attention first was his chest which was crisscrossed all over with scars both big and small. He ran his fingers through hair that was light brown but was now liberally sprinkled with gray.<o:p></o:p> <o:p> </o:p>    “You’re getting old George.” It was times like this that he envied his brothers for their choice of staying peasants. Sure they would have struggled and worked hard but now in their later years they would have families to take care of them. He briefly considered traveling to his old village but he hadn’t been there in decades. He wondered if either of his parents were still alive.<o:p></o:p> <o:p> </o:p>    There was a sudden, loud POP behind him breaking George from his reverie. Turning he saw a small, wooden figurine laying on top of the tangled blankets on the bed. It hadn’t been there the moment before.<o:p></o:p> <o:p> </o:p>    He muttered several curses under his breath. This was the last thing he wanted, another one of Misha’s cheery messages. Still his friend rarely sent such messages unless he needed George or he had a well paying job for him.<o:p></o:p> <o:p> </o:p>    George sat down next to the small figure and looked at it. The figurine was one of a fox seated on a small rock. Its tail tuck under it’s front legs. He waited a moment before picking it up.<o:p></o:p> <o:p> </o:p>    “Good morning George!” a voice emanating from the figurine said cheerfully. “I hope this message finds you in good health. I’m doing good. I am finally getting used to my new body but I still slam the door on my tail occasionally and it HURTS bad,” the figure commented.<o:p></o:p> <o:p> </o:p>    “Why does he always have to be so cheerful?” George muttered to himself. “It’s like he’s talking to his mother!”<o:p></o:p> <o:p> </o:p>    “The mages here keep talking about reversing the curse but I doubt it. I know too much magic to be fooled by their double talk. They have no clue how to reverse it but they know better then to actually admit that openly. I don’t mind. I like this new body. My hearing and sense of smell are incredible and I have a nice fur coat to keep me warm in winter.” The voice was cheerful but George had known Misha too long to be fooled.<o:p></o:p> <o:p> </o:p>    Misha’s voice paused and when it continued it was in a more somber tone. “Thank you for going to my funeral.” The voice said. There was another long pause. “It was a nice thing to do. They tell me it was quite a spectacular one. Even my brother attended.”<o:p></o:p> <o:p> </o:p>    There was a long pause and George knew that Misha was probably having trouble containing his emotions. He waited patiently and soon the voice continued.<o:p></o:p> <o:p> </o:p>    “You’re needed here at Metamor Keep George,” the voice from the figure said. “It’s not the curse. People have mostly adjusted to the changes. It’s the Lutins. I know I’ve talked to you about this before but they’re getting more brazen with each passing day. Thier raids are burning and destroying everything. The people here are brave and skilled but they have no idea how to stop these bandit raids. They have no organization and it shows. The Lutins are raiding at will. They need a good scout leader here. Someone who knows how to fight bandits. The first person I thought of was you! Who better to stop bandits then an old bandit like you.”<o:p></o:p> <o:p> </o:p>    “I think you just complemented and insulted me at the same time,” George said sarcastically.<o:p></o:p> <o:p> </o:p>    “Be warned my friend. If you stay here more then two weeks the curse will take you and you’ll change. You could wind up a child, a woman or an animal person like me. The voice laughed. “I just had the image of you as a woman and damn you look terrible with breasts!”<o:p></o:p> <o:p> </o:p>    George just shook his head and scratched the scar that ran along his left side. It was a new one and it  still itched and would till it had healed fully.<o:p></o:p> <o:p> </o:p>    “The offer is the same as the last time. The work is good. Your pay per month would be the same as the ransom my parents paid you for my release all those years ago. But you would have to earn that money George. You’ll have to organize the Duke’s scouts and reorganize all the locals and the militia. That alone could take years. But these are good people. Tough, hardy folk. I already mentioned you to Duke Thomas and he liked the idea of you working for him. Thomas is a fine man, er – Stallion. He is someone I trust. We really need you George. What do you say? It would be a lifetime job but it would be a plush one.”<o:p></o:p> <o:p> </o:p>    The figurine was silent, expecting a reply from him. The money would be nice. It had been far too long since he had lived the good life. The task didn’t bother him. George the Cutlass had been both a bandit and hunted bandits many times. Still the idea of being changed into something else gave him pause.<o:p></o:p> <o:p> </o:p>    George looked at himself in the mirror again and noted the gray hair he saw. He was old by the standards of a bandit. Everyone he had known was either dead or rotting in some prison somewhere. All he had to look forward to was death in battle or at the end of a hangman’s noose. He trusted Misha’s judgment. The young man had never been wrong in the past and had given him some well paying jobs over the years.<o:p></o:p> <o:p> </o:p>    “Yes,” he said firmly to the figurine. “I accept the task and the pay!”<o:p></o:p> <o:p> </o:p>    “GOOD! See you soon George! And don’t loose the parchment! If you get in trouble just show it to someone. It might help,” the figure said and vanished from his hand. In its place was a folded piece of paper and a small leather pouch.<o:p></o:p> <o:p> </o:p>   Unfolding the paper he found it was a well detailed map of the midlands with both Metamor Keep and the town of <st1:City><st1:place>Frondham</st1:place></st1:City> marked with a red X.<o:p></o:p> <o:p> </o:p>    In the pouch he found a good collection of gold, silver and copper coins and a piece of parchment with writing on it. George couldn’t read so the words were alien to him but the seal at the bottom had a rearing horse at its center. It was most likely the seal of the Duke of Metamor. The document probably stated that George was on the Duke’s business and was to be allowed free passage.<o:p></o:p> <o:p> </o:p>    He doubted that the document would work anywhere but on the Duke’s land as the bounty for his head was rather large. Still Metamor was held in high regard in many places and it might well help to get him out of trouble.<o:p></o:p> <o:p> </o:p>   Suddenly the sound of loud voices raised in anger came through the closed door. George dressed quickly pulling his chain mail shirt on over his head. He tucked the map, free pass and coins into a safe, inner pocket. He strapped his cutlass across his back and the dagger went onto his belt.<o:p></o:p> <o:p> </o:p>    Moving quietly he opened a window and leapt the short distance to the street below.<o:p></o:p> <o:p> </o:p> <o:p> </o:p> *******************<o:p></o:p> <o:p> </o:p> </div> </body> </html> No virus found in this outgoing message. Checked by AVG Free Edition. Version: 7.5.476 / Virus Database: 269.10.4/898 - Release Date: 7/12/2007 4:08 PM