Where Lies Adventure!

OF GODS AND MEN Chapter 2: The White Knight             Tarsus awoke where he stood.  He realized he had been staring, transfixed, toward the edge of the Wandering Wood.  He instantly wondered how long he had been standing there, staring on after the two strange women he seemed to recall but could not remember. Next to him, Finnian roused as well.  Tarsus looked to his friend, and the two shared the same puzzled expression.  They did not need to say anything to one another.  They had fought side by side long enough, been friends long enough, to know they both had the same questions. Standing a few paces ahead of them on the dirt road was the white knight.  As though in answer to their newfound alertness, the warrior turned to face them.  Then, he lifted his sword, pointing it at Finnian. “How long must it take for the lesson to sink in?  Your actions have consequences,” the knight scolded.  “You’re both lucky to be alive.” “I know your voice,”

OF GODS AND MEN Chapter 1: The Chase         All was still on the edge of the Wandering Wood.  A light breeze blew past as tree branches danced in its sway.  The sun shone down from a clear sky.  It was peaceful here: serene. From inside the wood, the neighing of a horse echoed faintly; as though it were coming from deep in the heart of the forest. Then, suddenly, a bolt of black crashed through the trees on the forest’s edge.  It raced down the road leading out of the wood.  Latched on behind the black was a cart that held a cowering woman holding frantically onto the railing that fenced her in.  Her high-pitched shriek rose and fell as the black blur sped forward to Meeks Harbor. Only moments after, two chestnut mares crashed through the same forest opening onto the road.  The riders, two young men wearing simple leather armor, willed their steeds on.  The cart was not far ahead. “Tis simple logic Tarsus,” said the young man riding the horse

OF GODS AND MEN Prologue             Malthus, Godking of the realm of Malthanon, sat high on his throne looking down at the hooded stranger who knelt before him.   The opulent throne room shone brightly as artificial sunlight, made by Malthus to blaze eternally, flooded the hall.  Mountains of gold and silver, strewn about the entire room, reflected its radiance.  Pristine alabaster walls were set aglow by the amplified light of God; so that for any mortal man, looking into Malthus’s throne room was akin to staring at the face of the sun.  It forced the few who did enter the Godking’s chamber to do so with eyes closed and heads bowed.  As it should have been, for they were mortal men; but Malthus had ceased being a mortal man long ago.  In this city, he was king.  On this earth, he was God; and he would have his reverence. “I am told you have a mighty gift for me,” Malthus said in jest.  “Tell me, what does one such as you have to offer God?” “You have

STAND UP          The unusually pitch darkness of the comedy club suited Jim just fine.   It wasn’t a big club.   Even sitting in the back, he was only a few feet from the stage; but it was far enough from the spot light to be swallowed up by the dark.   That intimacy was one of the reasons this was Jim’s favorite venues.   He’d performed here more than any other place in New York, and it was because on stage he felt truly separate from the audience; free from the judgmental glares of the people who didn’t get his jokes, but open to the laughs of those that did.     Sulking alone in his one-size-too-small wooden chair at the two-sizes-too-small cocktail table, Jim downed half of his vodka soda in a single gulp.  On the table was another drink, fresh and waiting for him.  “Glad I planned ahead,” he thought; though he’d have a lot more than two vodka sodas before the show was over.  “I deserve it…after the day I’ve had.  Hell, after the last six months I’ve had,” his internal voi