My computer and I have been reunited (and it feels so good), so my posting schedule will be make to normal this week.
Incidentally, thank you to everyone who read the re-posted chapters of the original version of Fryte’s Gold. A new, revised, and improved version will be coming in both writing and audio… at some point between now and the Heat Death of the Universe.
I, uh, I don’t want to overpromise, but I swear it’s coming.
But, well, it’s Monday, so here’s a new old Realmgard Short Scene.
Reminder that you can get a new new Realmgard Short Scene every Friday by joining the Emona Literary Services™ Patreon at any level, even the free tier.
© J.B. Norman — Published by Emona Literary Services™
“Now, as my newly-hired freelance consultant, allow to introduce you to the other members of my company.” Boss Virrad tells Kat, the old Goblin looking at her over his shoulder as he leads her into one of the rooms off his mansion’s main hallway.
Boss Virrad points to the assembled members of his mercenary company. “Here we have Johnny the Axe, Mort the Combat, Axe the Blade, Blade the Shank, Nose-Biter Pete, and, of course, Nice Guy Jeff, whose tact and approachable manner have been instrumental in smoothing over various misunderstandings caused by the others.”
“I’m telling you, Boss,” one of the mercenaries protests. “It was self-defence. Those orphans came at me!”
“So, um,” Kat stammers. “Did I just join up with some kind of criminal thing? Are you guys a gang?”
“It was self-defence!” the mercenary reiterates — and Kat thinks he sounds an awful lot like Dunstana.
Meanwhile, on the other side of Porthaven, Dunstana suddenly sneezes.
“Oh, by no means, my young friend,” Boss Virrad assures her. “We are fully authorised and sanctioned by the government of Porthaven and prohibited by law from conducting any military maneuvers within the city limits. Hence, my need for competent help to be consulted in the event of any trouble of a nature which cannot be addressed in the manner of mercenary.”
Boss Virrad continues to introduce his — actually, Kat isn’t sure what the word here is: employees?? goons? soldiers? minions?
“And, of course, because I strive to be open-minded and socially conscious in all my endeavours, I am pleased to introduce you to the first female member of my company: Skadi Jormundsdottir, a recent arrival from Hrimfax,” the old Goblin is telling her.
The tall red-haired woman looks up from where she’s hurling axes at an angry face painted on the far wall. She gives Kat a quick nod before turning back the target and hurling her next axe.
Kat flinches at the impact of the axe right between the angry face’s eyes.
“Hey, new girl,” one of the other mercenaries. “Guess how many lamps she’s broken doing that.”
The Hrimfaxi woman picks up another axe from a nearby table.
“Keep that up,” she mutters. “And the next one’s going to break you.”
She hurls the axe and Kat flinches at the sound of impact again.
With a satisfied nod, she turns away from her axe-hurling and approaches towards Kat.
“Arms,” she declares.
“Arms?” Kat repeats, blinking in confusion and bewilderment.
For one of an exceedingly few times in her life, the tall, wiry Kat actually has to look up to talk to somebody.
“Show me them,” Skadi says, explaining her demand without really explaining it.
“What are you doing?” Kat cries as the Hrimfaxi woman reaches out and grabs Kat’s biceps.
“If we’re working together now, I need to make sure you can pull your weight,” Skadi says. “Not like this lot. Ugh. Men, right?”
If Kat had a dime for every time this week somebody decided to just start feeling her biceps…
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