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Excerpt:
Castle,
The Return To Domum
J.H. Wear
Chapter One
The dark cobble roads
gleamed from the wet bricks, reflecting the light from the three-quarter
moon. Along the sides of the street that were devoid of sidewalks, rose
stone and brick buildings of various sizes. Some of the buildings were
in need of repair, though for the most part the two and three storey
structures looked like they had been standing for centuries and could
last another easily.
The roads and lanes
weren’t even; twisting slightly with rises and dips along them.
Occasionally they inexplicitly narrowed or widened as the buildings
jostled for position. At intervals of approximately a block the cobbled
road intersected with another, more or less, at right angles. Not all of
the roads were equal in width. Some were wide enough to sport sidewalks
while others were so narrow that two people could barely pass one
another. The late hour meant the roads were almost empty, except for one
of the smaller side lanes where a small figure came out running..
Gilbert stumbled and
slipped as he ran, occasionally trying to peer into the dark street
behind him as he gasped for breath. The spirit that chased him didn’t
have trouble seeing him or did it slip like Gilbert did as it glided
through the air like an ill wind.
The small man regretted
the six ales he consumed earlier that slowed his reflexes, truly
regretted he didn’t bring a protective crystal with him when he ventured
out that night and now almost regretted the gem he stole from the
headstone in the graveyard.
“Go aways! You’s dead now,
don’ts need no gem.”
Gilbert, dressed in baggy
brown pants and a leather vest over a green shirt, all rather worn and
in serious need of cleaning, wasn’t sure if the ghost could do him any
real harm; some could, some couldn’t. It depended on what power the
ghost possessed and he couldn’t find out if this one was bluffing or not
until it was too late.
Gilbert rounded the
corner, sliding on the cobblestones as he did so. The ghost, dark grey
in a vaguely human shape, passed through the outside edge of the brick
building and was within ten feet of the fleeing Gilbert. The ghost let
out a low moan that resulted in a shriek from Gilbert as he looked back
to see how close his pursuer was. That resulted in him tripping on one
of uneven cobblestones and sliding hard on the palm of his hands. The
ghost looked as unforgiving as the cobblestones as it floated in front
of him wrapped in a cloak over a dark pair of pants and shirt.
Gilbert rolled on his back
and pointed a dirty, stubby finger at his adversary. “Lets me be, lets
me be. Me wants nothin’ to do with yous!”
The ghost reached out with
its arms and extended its fingers that seemed to stretch in length as it
neared Gilbert. The dark grey figure was partially transparent except
for its center that remained impermeable.
Gilbert let out a yell and
rolled away. “Leaves me alones!” He got back on his feet and began to
run again. This time he resisted the temptation of looking behind him
and headed straight down the street. After two o’clock in the morning
there weren’t many businesses or buildings open, though Gilbert tried
the doors on two rooming houses. But there was still one definite
possibility; the inn and the adjoining tavern where he had consumed his
ale and came up with the inspiration to rob the tombstone. It was
several blocks away and though Gilbert normally didn’t do much physical
activity he felt inspired to continue to run the rest of the way.
The door to the Greenrock
Inn was unlocked and Gilbert grunted with effort as he pushed the heavy
black door open. Like most inns and places of business, the door had a
pentagon painted inside a circle on the door. The symbol and similar
ones were meant to prevent unwelcome spirits and creatures such as
vampires from entering. Homes didn’t require the symbol since they
weren’t open to the public and thus hadn’t an open invitation for any
spirits to wander in. Simple symbols could not stop all spirits and to
protect against most spirits a symbol had to be carefully drawn and then
for added protection be sanctified by a wizard. That cost money and not
all proprietors were willing to do that.
Still when Gilbert ran
into the inn’s lobby and turned around he could see the ghost stopping
at the threshold, looking frustrated at its inability to move forward.
Gilbert grinned at it and shoved the door closed.
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