September 30 2014

A Few Short Stories – by Womby – Narrated by StaticGrazer

Good evening internet! This is StaticGrazer, with a few great stories from Womby

Background music “Crystalline” by Smartsound.

Heading South

Faren Dahl looked in his purse. Two gold pieces. Enough for a loaf of bread.
His cat Morticia glared at him.
Or a fish.

Things were not going well for Faren. He used to cart items from Kingsport to Owl’s Head, but since the ships had stopped arriving he had nothing to do, and nothing to do meant no income.
“I guess there’s no other choice” he remarked to Morticia. “Time to join the town guard. If they’ll have me.”

Lord Enmar looked him over carefully, and then asked “Do you have any next of kin?”
“No” replied Faren. “Well, apart from my cat.”
“You’re in luck then.” replied Lord Enmar. “We have a number of openings. How familiar are you with the southern part of the island?”

Something New

The chill winter breeze played with the last remaining autumn leaves as it swept through the forest.
The wolves stirred as they detected an unfamiliar scent, and moved to investigate. As they started to cross the clearing they suddenly paused, their fur standing on end, and crouched low, backing slowly away.
The creature looked vaguely human in shape, yet seemed to glide rather than walk as it moved relentlessly forward.
One by one, others of its kind emerged from the shadows before the scene was plunged into darkness by a dark, menacing cloud that kept pace with their advance.
As they moved northwards the lights of a village grew ever closer.

Letter to the Editor

Please do not misinterpret what I am about to write. I love Kingsport, and (most of) the people who live here. Having said that, though, I feel the need to point out a few things that have become glaringly obvious as I have settled into this delightful town.

Firstly, the town gates. Or lack of them. Take for example the coastal entrance. I refer specifically to the inability of the lone guard on duty to close the gates if the town is attacked, because there are in fact no town gates!

Secondly, the rising incidence of petty crime. I recall a time in my youth when people could leave doors unlocked, in the knowledge that fellow members of the community would have no desire to enter their houses and steal their belongings.
Yet what do I see now? Some trusting citizen has left a trunk on the end of a pier, and I see many people, some of whom I recognise, blatantly removing items from it in broad daylight!

Thirdly, while I have no wish to make false accusations, I suspect that a certain unsavoury character loitering in the vicinity of the docks is up to no good.
He may in fact be selling contraband, and I for one do not understand why the town guard has thus far failed to investigate.

Lastly, we have all heard the strange sounds emanating from the sewer. Why has no-one investigated? Surely this is not beyond the capabilities of our local law enforcement.

I remain, as ever, your loyal reader
Womby Fluffington

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