Search

The Protagonist Speaks

Interviews with the characters of your favourite books

Open Search
Tag

Humor

Squee (of Beast Be Gone, by A.L. Billington)

Dear readers, tonight we were scheduled to interview the owner of a renowned pest-control service, who helps citizens deal with creatures in their basements, undead haunting their castles, and infestations of goblins and other annoyances (all at better rates and kinder service than rampaging adventurers). Well, we were aiming to — but someone else showed up!

Hello, nice to meet you Eric. You’re a little… shorter than I expected.

Oh, sorry. I’m not Eric. He, um couldn’t make it. There was an emergency. Some oozes have infested a school, and the headmaster needed them out before the human children got back from their holidays.

Right, I see. And who are you?

I’m Squee, Eric’s Apprentice. Nice to meet you.

Are you a…?

A goblin. Yes. Sorry about that.

Please don’t apologise. I’ve just never met a goblin before.

Oh really? That’s odd because there are an awful lot of us. I suppose you don’t go into caves or hire many lawyers?

Not especially, no.

That’ll be it, then. Although goblins can be pretty evil, watch out if you see one holding something pointy. 

Noted. So you work for Eric at Beast Be Gone, Pest Control?

Yes! He’s been my master for a few months now. And let me tell you, he’s the best so far – Master that is. I’ve had more evil masters than I’ve had hot dinners. At least six.

How did you get involved with so many evil masters?

It’s the only real career path for goblins. That’s what my brood mother always said, anyway. You get a roof over your head, free grub, and you get to make a difference. 

Brood mother… where did you grow up, exactly?

All goblins get birthed in a swamp, of course. On account of the dampness.

I see. What was it like there?

Damp.

Did you have any favourite toys as a child? Any cherished memories?

I do miss my brood mother’s rat pie, but besides that, I was glad to leave. Although my skin has been dry ever since. Maybe I’ll go back one day, if Eric will let me.

What can you tell us about your latest adventure with Eric?

Where do I begin? We recently defeated The Dark Master, who had taken over the continent. I’m not 100% how he did it… Eric said something about economics? Anyway, everyone was suddenly an adventurer and there were no farmers or shopkeepers or anything left. So The King got Eric to find out what was going on. Pest control wasn’t doing so well either. All those adventurers cleared the dungeons, so he had no work left. Adventurers make a big mess, you see. Pest control is clean and humane. Adventurers just murder and blow things up. Although we did have to do that to a dragon…

Continue reading “Squee (of Beast Be Gone, by A.L. Billington)” →
0

Joss, aka Daxx (of New Rock New Role, by Richard Sparks)

Dear readers, tonight with us is an author and gamer who woke up as his alter-ego in his own fantasy books.

Tell us a little about where you grew up. What was it like there?

A small house on the edge of a village outside Cheltenham in the west of England. Beyond the garden fence were woods and hills that we could run wild in, barefoot in the summer, padded up against the cold in winter.  Up the lane towards the top of the hill was a dark, muddy pond we called The Giant’s Bath.  And beyond that, through the trees, lay the open sky and the far horizon.

Did you have any favourite toys as a child? Any cherished memories?

A medieval fort I played with for hours. A small railway set. Little animals and characters I staged elaborate stories around. Books that I lost myself in. Tales of gods and heroes, sagas, eddas, adventures in this world and a hundred others, from the Odyssey of Homer to Narnia and back again, via the Ramayana, Middle Earth and Outer Space.

What do you do now?

I was, until this all happened, a widowed, retired schoolteacher living quietly by myself in my little bungalow not five miles from where I was born.  There, I spent my time online, in my favourite MMORPG, running my avatar, an apex-level battlemage/healer, Daxx.

What can you tell us about your latest adventure?

It all began when we won the World Championship of Sword and Sorcery, with tens of millions watching live online.  The others in my crew are Grell, the Orc avatar of an Australian guy, and Qrysta, the dual-wielding, sword-dancing avatar of an Asian American girl.  We only went and won the title.  World Champions!

After which, everything went very weird indeed.  I found myself all alone, in the middle of an untouched wilderness, armed with only a crappy, noob-level sword and shield.  And I was no longer Joss, but my own avatar, Daxx.  For real.  There was no sign of Qrysta or Grell.  And I could hear wolves heading my way.  If I was going to find out what had happened, and why, first I needed to survive.

Bad enough, you might think.  It very soon got worse.  Captured by two wiry little Woods Kin archers, I was marched off to be sold at auction as an outlaw.  And soon found myself drafted into a local lord’s army, being trained up by the fearsome Serjeant-at-Arms Jack Blunt—known to one and all as Serjeant Bastard.

It was some time before our quest revealed itself—a quest that meant going on the run with a noble maiden searching for her mysterious godmother, and learning of a foe far more dangerous, and powerful, than any I had faced before.

Continue reading “Joss, aka Daxx (of New Rock New Role, by Richard Sparks)” →
1

Griever Blackhand (of The Girl Drank Poison, by Keith Blenman)

Dear readers, tonight with me is the deadliest bounty hunter in the world — also easily overlooked, as she’s only two feet tall. She’s here to tell us about legendary pirates, spoilt potions, and a sleepy little town.

Welcome Miss Griever Blackhand. How are you?

Hello! Thank you for having us. This chair is quite plush. We’re a little bit hungry. We’d very much like to flop around in a pile of leaves, should you happen to have one. Or perhaps some dirty laundry.

Um… Right. Now, you are a ferrelf. A lot of our readers might not be familiar with your species. If you don’t mind me giving them a physical description, you look like a ferret or weasel. Maybe eighteen inches tall with black and white fur. You’re wearing only a purple cape, which is crooked, draped over your arm. Can you give us any other insights into yourself or your people? Perhaps some history or culture.

…That was a lot of questions.

Oh. My apologies. I’ll slow down. Can you tell us a little about ferrelves?

Yes! As a ferrelf, we are more than able to speak on all matters regarding ferrelves.

…Griever?

Yes!

Would you tell us about ferrelves?

We’re a nomadic people, living in tribes throughout the Northern continent. Like elves, we are immortal. But we don’t always get along with them. You know how elves do things like spend five hundred years shaping a tree into a house, then stare at a roaring fire and recall the ancient times of war when their dwarf friend was slain by an ogre, so they planted a seed on the spot and spent five hundred years using that dwarf as fertilizer to make their house. But then they spent so much time reminiscing about their dwarf friend that they forgot trees are made of wood and their entire house burns down? Well, us ferrelves don’t dedicate so much time to such things. All that sitting would make our minds wander, and we’d start thinking about bright things, and how we like bright things. Then we think about how some of the kindling in the fire isn’t burned and we could probably take it out of the fire pit. But then it’s really hot so we throw it away and it hits the wall.

I’m sorry. Are you telling us you burned down some elf’s wood cabin?

…So the main difference between elves and ferrelves is how we regard time. Elf minds are in ages. Ferrelf minds stay in moments. We’re also a lot more carnivorous. We’ve eaten six birds today. Five of them were still in eggs, but we ate them.

Continue reading “Griever Blackhand (of The Girl Drank Poison, by Keith Blenman)” →
0

Loquacious McCarbre (of The Legends of Grimous Ironblood, by K. R. Boyter)

Dear readers, tonight with us is a storyteller extraordinaire, a man in love with words and his voice. He is here to tell us about the healing arch-mage and the many other wondrous sights he encountered on his travels.

Tell us a little about where you grew up.

It’s hard to imagine such an extraordinary storyteller like myself, the wondrous Loquacious McCarbre, was born into such humble beginnings but it’s true. In the Middle Realm of Edra, nestled in-between two woods: Fire Spark Wood and Water Spark Wood, is the sleepy village of Nymphs Crossing. I grew up in the family tavern, The Gift of the Gab. The ramshackle pile of wooden beams, white plaster walls, and grey slate for the roof fought with the laws of gravity. The lead-latticed windows were slanted and the whole building looked like it drank the beer and cider along with the locals that frequented it. But this was home, true home.

Did you have any cherished memories?

In The Gift of the Gab where it all began, is where I told my first story. My father was a storyteller and my father’s father too. I was five years old and I would make all the sounds of the animals and of nature while my father would weave glorious tales around the expectant audience. My dad encouraged me to tell fragments of stories until, aged seven, I told my first full tale: The Gnome Who Lost Her Home. Wave and wave of love hit me as the locals cheered and bought me cider to celebrate. Best of all, my father raised me into his chest with a hug and whispered, “I’m proud of you.”

What do you do now?

I travel the realm weaving the finest, grandest, most thrilling tales in all of Edra; from the mysterious Dark Woods to the immoral Smokeshields Citadel, the suppressive Crooked Smile Island to the perilous Banshees’ Forest. I collect and re-tell tales of woe and tales of wonder, tales of sun and tales of thunder, tales of pity and tales of spite, tales of creatures fierce with fight. I also have to put up with my useless apprentice Stumps! 

What can you tell us about your latest adventure?

I happened to hear of one legend that tells of a man who desired to heal with real zeal. Grimous Ironblood, Arch-Mage of renown; he travelled to hamlet, city and town. Offering the cure to all one’s ails; the sick, poor, needy and frail. His heart desired to cure where he could, using his talent and magic for good. But some were suspect of this healer’s skill: “A trick”, “Deception!”, their voices shrill. “What was his secret?” They were dumbfounded; the magic he used always astounded. I decided to follow and see his good deeds, from place to place, answering their pleas. Seasons passed on the long treacherous road, collecting his stories to be told. What I procured will entertain and delight, intrigue, entice, and even fright!

Continue reading “Loquacious McCarbre (of The Legends of Grimous Ironblood, by K. R. Boyter)” →
0

Hemlock Connal and Morgan Burns (of Another Dead Intern, by Joel Spriggs)

Dear readers, tonight with me is a preternatural investigator (a private investigator specialising in the supernatural), and her latest intern.

Hemlock: Hi, I’m Hemlock Connal, Preternatural Investigator.

Morgan: I’m Morgan Burns, Professional Intern.

Hemlock: We first work together in Another Dead Intern, hopefully no spoilers, but also working together in a short Holiday ditty called Little Drummer Boy.

Tell us a little about where you grew up. What was it like there?

Hemlock: My mother is Queen Fand, of the Sidhe Shadow Court. So I grew up in the castle, training with the court. That is up until I was thirteen, when I played a trick on an Earl of the Summer Court at a party. I put an enchantment on him to make him fall in love with a pine tree. It was funny at first, until he started cramming pine cones up his rectum. They said he got six, but I counted seven!

Anyway, rather than have me executed, the Queen had mercy and I was banished for 13 years, stripped of most powers, and lost my beautiful voice. They basically made sure I was cursed to sound like I’d been gargling acid and broken glass for a lifetime. After that, I lived with dad. Old Man Connal was the private investigator, but he was an independent practitioner of the magical arts, so he dealt with investigations in the magical community. When he died a year or so ago, I took over the family business.

Morgan:  I grew up in an Indiana town, had a good lookin’ mama who never was around. I but I grew up tall, and I grew up right, with them Indiana Girls on them Indiana Nights

Hemlock: Damnit Burns, that’s the lyrics to Mary Jane’s Last Dance by Tom Petty.

Morgan: … it’s mostly accurate.

Hemlock: Fair enough.

Did you have any favourite toys as a child? Any cherished memories?

Hemlock: I had a Curious George doll. Got it from my dad one time when I visited him before I got banished. I kept it with me after, which seemed dumb, but it was a comfort thing. Unfortunately, I had it with me when dad dragged me along on a job. A monastery was having an issue with a yokai that followed some new monks over from Japan. One thing led to another, and he had to trap the spirit in the Curious George doll. I still have it, but now it has a vengeful spirit bound to it. He does help with tasting blood for quick analysis when I need random facts about something.

Morgan: My dad didn’t believe in furthering the capitalist ideals of major toy corporations. So, I had to make the toys I had in his woodshop. I wasn’t really good at making action figures or most things like that, but I did have a knack for furniture. Honestly, the thing I loved most was this one old fashioned wood plane he had in the shop. That thing could take a see through layer of wood off the surface, oh so smooth.

Hemlock: Burns?

Morgan: Yeah?

Hemlock: You are a complete and utter dork.

What do you do now?

Hemlock: We are Preternatural Investigators. Well, I am, Burns is just an intern.

Morgan: C’mon, I’m a bit better than that.

Hemlock: That doesn’t mean we go around killing vampires for people or looking for ghosts in resold haunted houses. It just means we do private investigations for the preternatural community. Which means doing a lot of the same stuff a PI would do, a lot of cheating spouse cases, insurance fraud, white collar crime discovery, that sort of stuff. Just, with, y’know, vampires, witches, warlocks, mages, werewolves, sometimes the Sidhe, and other various species and members of the preternatural community of Boston.

What can you tell us about your latest adventure?

Hemlock: There were stolen memories that led us to the murders, the murders led us to the drugs, and more drugs led us to the nightmares.

Morgan: Ah, don’t forget, it was me taking more drugs that led us to the nightmares.

Hemlock: Semantics, don’t try to be a glory hog, Burns.

Continue reading “Hemlock Connal and Morgan Burns (of Another Dead Intern, by Joel Spriggs)” →
0

The Audit Team (of The Good Audit, by CP Aiden)

Dear reader, tonight we have something unique for you. The Good Audit happens to be one of the most hilarious, poignant books about corporate life we have ever read, laughing and crying at the same time. We had therefore invited the heroes of the audit, the brave team of The Accounting Firm, to audit our own blog.

You will be getting an unparalleled view into our audit, with a privileged view into what they say out loud vs what they put on messenger. Also, you’ll get used to the HR-based addressing of people as resources in no time.

Three members of an exceptional audit team from The Accounting Firm show up at The Blogger LLC’s office at 9:00 a.m. sharp.

Blogger:  Welcome! Come in!

The team enters a small but swanky conference room, drop laptop bags, and set up.

Blogger: I’m so happy you could squeeze me in. I really need my blog audited. Your opinion and signature verifying my follower count will go a long way to building trust in my number of followers!

Manager: We are very excited to be here.

Staff 2: This certainly beats the last conference room we had!

Senior Manager (SM): We hope to be as efficient as possible – our profit margins are better the faster we are. That one special piece of paper with our opinion and signature is really the only reason anyone pays us. Amazing how much we can charge for it really.

Blogger: I agree. I’m surprised you stay so busy with fees like that… You said on the phone you’d just wrapped up on another client. How did that go?

Manager: Yes, we finished our audit of a company called Widget Maker last week! The company itself was not very exciting, but our team experience took us on so many wild and unexpected turns. I would say what we learned about each other as a team was life changing.

SM: The company makes widgets used to create gadgets.

Staff 2: And messes! It was a miracle we ever got done! They were so incompet—

SM (interrupting Staff 2): It was a great learning experience.

SM turns to Staff 2 and adds, “for EVERYONE!”

Staff 2: Yeah, like learning how to fix everyone else’s problems and how to cover up a bunch of—

SM (interrupting Staff 2 again): They were a first-year client. It typically takes a little time to ramp up when we start a new client. We did find several errors, but our interactions with the client team was where the real fun was. Manager even managed to get large pay raises for a couple people over there.

Staff 2: We also managed to get Office Manager fired, but they rehired her, so it worked out.

Manager gets on instant messenger:

Manager pinging Staff 2: Generally, it is not a great idea to talk bad about other clients in front of new clients. It gives them the impression we talk bad about all our clients.

Staff 2 pinging Manager: Don’t we?

Manager pinging Staff 2: That’s beside the point. We don’t want them thinking we do.

Manager: Yes. We sharpened our skills at finding errors, we attended to CFO’s request to get the legal department in trouble, we learned quite a bit about plumbing, and we even made a little money selling concert tickets online!

SM: We were also able to charge Widget Maker extra fees. Extra fees get us better performance reviews within The Accounting Firm, so we always try to get more.

Blogger: Well, I’m a new client and we only have this morning, so I hope this goes well. Before we start, I would like to know a little more about you. Would you mind telling me about yourselves?

SM: Sure. I’m SM. I’ve been with The Accounting Firm for about 10 years now.

Manager: Don’t tell him about your JOB. Tell him about YOU!

SM: Is there a difference? (long awkward pause) I guess my ‘fun facts’ can be that I have dogs and do well when I’m hopped up on energy drinks.

Manager: That’s better. Way to branch out SM. I’m Manager. I have a super-hot wife and 3 little kids. I’m teaching my 10-year-old how to trade stocks. He made almost as much net income as Widget Maker this year (which isn’t saying much) and we are having a great time. I also like all things outdoors, except the time I had to go clear up to the middle of nowhere to count huge piles of clay they use in chocolate bars. Yes, you eat dirt.

SM: Manager, Partner doesn’t like it when you talk about your family in front of clients.

Manager: Good thing Partner isn’t here. My wife and kids love me and would love to see more of me.

Blogger: Well, with that, let’s move along with the audit then, shall we? How exactly are you going to audit my blog?

Staff 2 pinging Manager: I didn’t get to introduce myself.

Manager pinging Staff 2: Get over it.

Manager: Well, we basically need to make sure that what you say on your blog is true and accurate. We focus particularly on numbers, not so much on the text.

Staff 2 pinging Manager: Fine. We can’t focus on much else. It is all a bunch of made up Sci-Fi and Fantasy. How are we supposed to validate any of these posts? There’s only one post on the main page that has any numbers and those are Guest 1 and Guest 2. The only real number on here is the number of followers.

Manager pinging Staff 2: Most of the numbers we audit at all our clients are made up. Think of how much was made up at Widget Maker! Those guys were guessing on practically everything and they weren’t even educated guesses!

SM: I do have to say, this is the best blog I’ve read all year!

Manager pinging SM: You work over 60 hours a week year-round, even on vacation. This is the ONLY blog you’ve read all year!

SM pinging Manager: Still makes it a true statement, doesn’t it?

Manager: I believe you wanted us to verify the number of followers. We’ll need to understand what people need to do to subscribe and how that gets tracked. Is there anything else you needed us to do?

Blogger: That is correct, and given you charge by the hour, I think we’d better get going!

Staff 2: I just subscribed, and the number of followers went from 39,038 to 39,039.

Manager: I subscribed and then unsubscribed (don’t worry I will subscribe again – my son could use a lot more Fantasy and Sci-fi in his life. Unfortunately, with me gone all the time, his childhood is becoming the home-school of hard knocks). The count went up and then back down again.

SM: Well, it seems like everything is working then. We’ll just call Partner and get his signature.

Blogger: Wait! That’s it? I thought you’d grill me about my awesome database and tracking system. I thought you’d confirm with some followers that they actually did follow the blog and get the newsletter! I thought you’d actually do something!

SM: We could do all that, but your fee would quadruple. I thought we discussed earlier how it is just our letterhead and signature you were after.

Manager: I just got the newsletter. So exciting – it looks fabulous!

SM: I guess we just confirmed on the newsletter. Look at that! We did extra work. I’d like to charge you extra for it, but my newly found conscience is telling me not to. However, I’m expecting your client satisfaction survey to reflect extremely high marks!

Manager: Staff 2, will you please write the 20-page summary memo detailing ALL the procedures we just did and send it to us for review?

Staff 2: You got it boss!

SM: Partner just confirmed we are good to go! Another great audit down and more fees for the Firm – what a fabulous day!

Blogger: Thanks for coming out and taking care of my audit today! Great to have this all wrapped up so quickly. What is next for you?

SM: Partner also said that Widget Maker just called back and they have some issues with a potential buyer and the financial statements we audited. We’ll be going back there to check it out tomorrow.

Manager: Sounds like a potential restatement. Those are always fun – tons of overtime hours to repeat what we just did thanks to the client screwing up! Buckle up Staff 2. We are in for a long ride ahead.

Staff 2: I thought I was going on vacation next week?!

SM: True. That is what you thought.

C.P. Aiden is an experienced corporate accountant with 14 years of corporate accounting and people interaction. Eight of those years took place at large public accounting firms. C.P.’s vast experience dealing with clients and teams provides all the fuel necessary in imagining up and creating his debut novel, The Good Audit.

You can find the audit team on the pages of The Good Audit.

On a personal note, this is one of the funniest books we’ve ever read. If you’ve ever been exposed to corporate life (accounting or otherwise), we’d urge you to go read it! A full review has just been published on our sister blog.

Join us next week to hear from a protagonist’s mother, talking about cold war spies and magical rings! Please follow the site by email (bottom-right) to be notified when the next interview is posted.

0

Nenn (of River of Thieves, by Clayton Snyder)

Dear readers, tonight with us a thief, a knife-fighter who robs from the rich and gives (some of it, at least) to the poor. She is here to tell us about the biggest heist — to steal the heart of a saint and punish a tyrant — and about her partner who keeps dying.

Tell us a little about where you grew up. What was it like there?

The Veldt? The river dominates it. Men with money and religion on their side keeping the ones without down. And the rest of us, we do what we can. Cord n’ me, we make our own luck though. Better to be free on the road than tied to a post.

Did you have any favourite toys as a child? Any cherished memories?

I had a knife. It was shiny. I named it Knifey.

My parents dumped me at Our Lady of Perpetual Weeping and Moaning. I don’t know if they were too poor to afford me, or too weak to raise me, but in the end, the nuns got me. No. I don’t think nuns is the right word. They were temporary guardians. We tended the grounds, and sometimes were rented out for work—not like that. They were rarely kind, but they also weren’t lunatics. I don’t think religion ever entered into it. OLOPWAM was a business, and they ran it like one.

When I turned seventeen, they released me, and I made my own way. Sometimes honestly, busting my back at the mill. Other times, not so honestly, busting teeth and heads in the alleys for a little money.

What do you do now?

I rob people. And sometimes stick knives in the assholes who deserve it. Oh, we don’t keep it all. Cord says that’s selfish. You gotta give. There are people even smaller than you, and no one deserves to be on the bottom rung. I guess he’s right, but I’d sure like a new pair of boots and something to eat that isn’t dried fish.

What can you tell us about your latest adventure?

Cord’s got a plan. We’re getting his old gang back together. This big mountain named Rek, a really pretty, but a bit cracked lady, named Lux. There’s enough suffering in this world and seeing men like Anaxos Mane take more—well that doesn’t sit right with any of us.

Continue reading “Nenn (of River of Thieves, by Clayton Snyder)” →
0

Tova Nokes (of The City Screams, by Phil Williams)

Dear readers, tonight with us is a woman, deaf since childhood. She’s on her way to Tokyo to undergo revolutionary ear surgery, though she isn’t quite aware of what’s in store for her.

Tell us a little about where you grew up. What was it like there?

I’ve been living in Ripton, Ordshaw, since I was born; it’s not the most glamourous part of the city but there’s a lot of people, so it’s never boring. Sure, it’s too far to walk into the centre, and we don’t have major cultural spots like the New Thornton galleries, or big parks, but we’ve got shops and good tube connections and the Gabber Market once a month. There’s also an abandoned railway line they say is haunted; we used to dare each other to run down it. But mostly people go there to do drugs.

Anyway, now that places like Ten Gardens are getting too popular, and prices are going up, it’s all going to swing back to Ripton, and we’ll be the next up-and-coming place to be!

You would have to say that, don’t you work on the Ripton Council?

Well, I’m not a politician, promotion isn’t in my job description – I mostly make sure other people’s numbers add up. But I see the work that goes into the neighbourhood, so I do have a little pride in it.

Then, I also see the where work doesn’t get done. If I was responsible, you’d definitely hear about Ripton’s greatness! We’d change the name to Tova Town.

What’s stopping you?

Um. Besides being a world class mediocrity? Probably the fact that everyone treats me like a charity case, even if I’m better at my job than most people in the office.

They treat you that way because you can’t hear?

That and because I make really bad jokes.

But the hearing, at least, might change soon. What can you tell us about your upcoming adventure?

Now that is an interesting thing. I won a lottery run by Mogami Industries; I’m flying to Japan and they’re going to scramble my brain or something. Miracle Surgery, You Too Can Hear! I wasn’t going to enter, it sounds unreal and there’s negativity about it in Deaf Club, but I missed my bus on a wet Tuesday and filled in this form on my phone while I was waiting, and here we are!

Of course no one really believes the surgery will work.

Continue reading “Tova Nokes (of The City Screams, by Phil Williams)” →
0

Corbett (of Rocks Fall. Everyone Dies, by Eddie Skelson)

Dear readers, tonight with us is a wizard. He is part of an adventuring group (because he’s broke), and he’s here to tell us about dungeons, dragons, quests, and bad attitudes.

Tell us a little about where you grew up. What was it like there?

Well I lived in Trestfall with my parents, two brothers Vine and Berek, and my sister, Shana. It was nice I suppose. My father was a baker and I always hoped to become a baker myself, or perhaps an accountant. Unfortunately, when I discovered that I had the ability to mess with the elements and blew my father’s kitchen to pieces I was shipped off to the local witch, Our Sharon, to be assessed. After that it was off to the Elementalists School for me.

Did you have any favourite toys as a child? Any cherished memories?

I used to have a couple of wooden dolls that I would play ‘entrepreneurship’ with. Essentially one of the dolls would come in and ask for a loan to start up his own turnip producing business. The other was an investor who would advise him that there was no money in turnip production and had he considered killing dragons instead. But it would turn out that the investor had a scam running with the local dragon who, being in on the deal, would lie in wait for the former would-be turnip magnate and eat him. After getting him to sign over all his capital to a Hoard Based Currency System that is.

Endless fun.

What do you do now?

Well at the moment I’m involved in a questing group. They are an absolute shower. Andreton, typical warrior, as dumb as rocks, five times as hard and ten times as stubborn. There’s this Ranger, you know, nature type. Noble, brave, clueless. A wretched woman named Daisy, I ask you, Daisy, and she’s a fighter. Watch out for your head, she has a habit of removing them. The Cleric, Valeran, as you can probably imagine has his head so far up his own backside he probably needs an Elixir of Nightseeing just to find his own shoes. And a Rogue, Donalt. He’s always behind you. Doesn’t matter where you are.

What can you tell us about your latest adventure?

So, under absolutely bloody false pretenses I got dragged into this group of sociopathic idiots and now we are faced with angry townsfolk, angry Trolls and angry Demons. I have no idea why but everywhere I go everyone is either very stupid or mad at something, and they naturally take it out on me. God’s save us. Everywhere I go, ‘Why don’t you have a pointy hat?’ or ‘Have you arrived precisely when you mean to? Because you’re bloody late.’ That’s what I get all the time. Look. WITCHES have pointy hats, OK? Wizards can wear whatever headgear they like. And I don’t use a wand either. That’s all marketing. I can point a cake at you and do the same spell.

Continue reading “Corbett (of Rocks Fall. Everyone Dies, by Eddie Skelson)” →
1

Create a free website or blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑