{"id":506,"date":"2013-10-01T06:41:38","date_gmt":"2013-10-01T11:41:38","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/jeezjosie.com\/blog\/?p=506"},"modified":"2013-09-26T06:46:29","modified_gmt":"2013-09-26T11:46:29","slug":"boot","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/jeezjosie.com\/blog\/2013\/10\/boot\/","title":{"rendered":"Boot"},"content":{"rendered":"

      Today\u2019s snippet, titled \u201cBoot\u201d, is a piece I wrote about an NPC in my Pathfinder Campaign (sort of the \u201cKing Maker\u201d adventure path). The intention behind this was to illustrate events occurring in the world, but away from the PCs. They\u2019re supposed to be writing their own pieces about actual in-game events. We shall see if any materialize.
\n      Be forewarned, there are mature themes and naughty language below.
\n– \u2013 \u2013 \u2013 \u2013 \u2013 \u2013 \u2013 \u2013 \u2013 –
\n      \t\u201cI wonder how she does it?\u201d
\n      \tBoris looked up from his blade and whetstone. \u201cWho does what, Rove?\u201d
\n      \tHe nodded in Rachel\u2019s direction. \u201cMagic.\u201d
\n      \tTymor slapped him on the shoulder as he crossed behind Rove and then plopped down on the log beside him. \u201cMagic? You fancy yourself magic, Rove? Prancin\u2019 about in dresses making butterflies dance for the little girls?\u201d
\n      \tRove shoved Tymor\u2019s arm away, reaching to retrieve his polishing cloth. \u201cNo, not that<\/em>. But like, I\u2019ve read stories about real wizards laying waste to whole cities with a single spell! Imagine that – just poof! and all your enemies are burnt to ashes.\u201d
\n      \t\u201cThat\u2019d be right amazing,\u201d Boris said. \u201cBut I bet you\u2019d put lots of innocent people in the ground too. Better to take \u2018em on, one at a time, face-to-face. Stab \u2018em right in the fucking guts and watch the evil pour out.\u201d
\n      \t\u201cOr right in the spine,\u201d Tymor said, chuckling. The oldest of the boys, and the one most likely to get himself or one of the young women in trouble, Tymor sometimes said things that left both Rove and Boris scratching their heads.
\n      \t\u201cYeah, or that.\u201d
\n      \tBack in Greypine, Rove had known Boris fairly well. They were of a similar age and though his father had been a parchment maker and scribe and Boris\u2019 an ostler, they lived in houses which shared a backyard. Maybe Rove wouldn\u2019t have called Boris a friend, exactly; but in a small town which had boasted a population of some five hundred people, they were certainly more than mere acquaintances.
\n      \tTymor, on the other hand, had lived on the far side of town, idle and fairly well-to-do as a baker\u2019s son. His father\u2019s shop had been a brightly lit haven filled with incredible odors, beautiful, multi-colored icings on fluffy cakes, cookies and pastries and the airiest, sweetest finest loaves of bread.
\n      \t\u201cI suppose.\u201d Rove shrugged noncommittally, having decided that talking too much in front of the other squires was just going to get him in more trouble with them. They still laughed at how he had nearly thrown-up when Zehavah showed him how to thread a worm onto a hook for fishing. And sometimes Tymor put critters – live or dead – in his bedroll, just to see his reaction. Rove was fairly certain he would never live down the time he squealed and nearly crushed Boris\u2019 family jewels as he scrabbled out of the tent.
\n      \tAs Gavriil had instructed, Rove began caring for his blade. He had not picked it up as quickly as Boris, but he knew he was a million times more disciplined than Tymor. It felt strange, sitting here with boys his age, the three of them in leather armor, polishing swords like real squires.
\n      \t\u201cYou think we\u2019ll get to do any fighting?\u201d Tymor asked, testing the sharpness of his edge with a thumb. He drew a thin line of blood and sucked it clean.
\n      \t\u201cCourse not, you ninny. They\u2019ll have us guarding the horses or watching out for the womenfolk. We won\u2019t see combat.\u201d
\n      \tRove glanced at Boris. \u201cYou\u2019re probably right, thank Erastil and Desna and all the Gods.\u201d
\n      \t\u201cI wouldn\u2019t mind doing more\u2019n watch out for the womenfolk. Was a real pity that all the young ones stayed back in the city, but I\u2019d still let the widow Karni or that chubby one, Susa, warm my bedroll. Better still, mistress Zehavah. Mm-mm! The teats on that one!\u201d
\n      \t\u201cYou better not let Lady Lexi hear you talking like that,\u201d Rove said, looking over his shoulder. \u201cShe\u2019ll put you out without a second thought. She might not be any taller than a girl, but she\u2019s fierce as any man.\u201d
\n      \t\u201cTrue,\u201d Boris nodded. \u201cI\u2019d rather squire for Lady Lexi than for almost any knight or warrior I ever even heard about – well, unless there was a real lance expert about to give me direction.\u201d
\n      \tRyven\u2019s an ace with a lance, <\/em>Rove thought as he rubbed oil into his weapon. Even if its a small one. Plus Erin, he\u2019s good too. But if he\u2019s not bright enough to figure it out on his own, his loss.<\/em>
\n      \t\u201cHey Rove, where\u2019s your boot mate?\u201d
\n      \tBlinking, he looked down at his foot. The left was still clad in leather, laced up his calf, but the right wore only a thin wool sock with a hole in the toe. \u201cWhat in all the Hells?\u201d
\n      \tTymor\u2019s face was expressionless – which immediately made him suspicious.
\n      \t\u201cHow\u2019d you lose a whole boot and not know it?\u201d
\n      \t\u201cI- I didn\u2019t. It was there just-\u201d He frowned at Tymor, leaning over to peek behind his back.
\n      \tSnickering, Tymor tossed the shoe at him and stood. \u201cI hope your shaft ain\u2019t as curved as your sword there, Rove, else you\u2019ll never get it in. See you fuckers later, I\u2019m off to have a shit.\u201d
\n      \tBoris rolled his eyes at Tymor\u2019s retreating back. \u201cHe\u2019s a bit of a prat, isn\u2019t he?\u201d
\n      \t\u201cMore than a bit,\u201d Rove said, sliding his weapon into its sheath. \u201cAnd if I ever do learn a bit of magic, he\u2019s the first one I\u2019ll blow-up.\u201d
\n      \tLaughing, Boris stood, putting his own weapon away. \u201cI wouldn\u2019t hold my breath, Rove. Where\u2019s a peasant like you going to learn magic anyway?\u201d
\n      \tHe sighed. \u201cNo where. Like as not\u2026 no where.\u201d
\n– \u2013 \u2013 \u2013 \u2013 \u2013 \u2013 \u2013 \u2013 \u2013 –
\n\"Signed,
\nNote: Image is “::wery old::” by fazong from SXC.hu<\/i><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

      Today\u2019s snippet, titled \u201cBoot\u201d, is a piece I wrote about an NPC in my Pathfinder Campaign (sort of the \u201cKing Maker\u201d adventure path). The intention behind this was to illustrate events occurring in the world, but away from the PCs. They\u2019re supposed to be writing their own pieces about actual in-game events.… <\/p>\n

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