《Meanwhile at the Withershins Inn...》Chapter 16: There's Ghomar Be a Jailbreak
Advertisement
Meanwhile at the Withershins Inn… the… um…
**sigh**
Sorry. Sorry. Still just a bit shaken from the… the… last time.
You know. Last time? The whole… essingmay upyay ethay orystay?
What do you mean you don’t speak Pig Latin? Everyone… Oh, for fates sake. Messing up the story. I changed things and…
…
Oh no.
Have I been doing it all along? There was the sign when she was lost in the woods. And then the lightening with the bridge and the trolls and… and…
No. Nonononono. This can’t be happening.
I will not calm down. Rule number one for narrators: never interfere. EVER. It’s sacred. I signed an oath and everything. Someone will find out and then they’ll take away my license and I’ll have to find work as a MIME!
**SMACK**
…
Thanks. **rubs cheek** Needed that. I think.
Ahem. As I was saying… no one knows. So… I’ll just not do it again and it’ll be fine. Right?
Right.
Okay.
The inn. We’re at the inn. And… Madame and her companion are still cackling in the corner over their drinks. Nothing I can possibly screw up here.
Moving on.
***
Moving on. Moooooving on.
Village of Trollsbridge. Right. Jailbreak in progress. Check. Nothing I can interfere with. Nothing at all… Right.
Where’s our girl?
Ah! There. Getting on with things without any interference from her narrator whatsoever. None. Just…
…
What is she doing?
Our fair heroine, having scanned the alley for any obvious eyes on her, has shed her travel cloak and is now… um… rolling in the mud and dirt and other interesting leavings to be found in the back alleys of fairytale villages. And now she’s mussing up her hair and—
“I regret this already,” our girl mutters right before she winds up and delivers herself a slap of the type usually reserved for handsy drunks at the bar.
Advertisement
Oh, my. That’s gonna leave a mark.
Now sporting a thoroughly disheveled appearance and a dirty red hand print on her cheek, Elaine stumbles out of the alley and toward the entrance of the jail. She pushes open the heavy wooden door to find herself in a front office decorated with wanted posters and a trove of hunting trophies lining the walls. Behind a heavy wooden desk sits a large man with an extravagant but well groomed mustache. A small brass nameplate introduces him as “Sheriff Roger of Bakingham”.
Bakingham: the inevitable shortening of The Baking Hamlet, a tiny village south of Trollsbridge once known for its hot cross buns and shortbread. However, now enough people believe the name refers to Baking Hams that a thriving sub business has cropped up.
But enough about that.
“Please, sir! Please help me!”
Goodness. With that quavering voice and pleading eyes one would never guess this is our brave girl, the terror of drunken gnomes and half trolls everywhere.
“My dear maiden! What has happened?” The burly sheriff leaps up with surprising speed and assists a trembling Elaine into a chair. “Tell me, fair one, what is your name and what has befallen you?”
Fair one? Goodness. He is a charmer. I think I quite like him. In spite of the unfortunate facial hair.
Oh, sorry. Yes. Back to the point.
Elaine is fluttering her hands helplessly, clearly playing up the dismayed and defenseless damsel angle for all it’s worth as she wracks her clever brain.
“Um. My name… yes… is… Tisket!”
…
Tisket? She’s going with Tisket? Oh, dear. Just please don’t tell him you’re last name is Tasket. I beg you.
“My name is Tisket. And I was walking through town headed to the Skarsburg Market to sell out our wares. My gran can’t leave so it’s up to me to sell the baskets we make. Without the trip to the market this year I don’t know if gran will survive.”
Advertisement
A thoroughly convincing sniffle has the sheriff patting her hand and pulling out a handkerchief to dab at the dirt on her face. “But what befell you, my dear? What great calamity has driven you to my humble door?”
Elaine’s gaze is flickering wildly about the room, clearly seeking inspiration and…
And now it’s narrowing in on one particular wanted poster that’s… uh oh… very familiar. I do believe the glint in Elaine’s eye is now something akin to malicious glee. Oh dear.
“Him!”
Our resourceful (and vengeful) heroine’s cry nearly sets the good sheriff on his backside.
“He befell me!” She stabs a gleeful finger toward the poster in question. “I was pulling my cart into town when he and his men jumped out of the bushes and grabbed it. I tried to fight back, but they were too strong. I told them I would go to the sheriff, but they only laughed and said ‘Robyn’s not afraid of that old gasbag’.”
Our solicitous sheriff stiffens and Elaine adds quickly, “Those were their words. Not mine.”
The good man is on his feet with a swiftness surprising in a man of his girth and bellowing toward the inner recesses of the jail house.
“Guards! GUARDS! Robyn, the scourge of Trilby, is back plaguing my town! Take everyone, EVERYONE, and hunt the filth down. I want his head on my desk before tomorrow’s noontide and his innards as pennants for the town square.”
Goodness. Seems our silver-tongued sheriff can be quite… um… bloodthirsty. Do you think he’ll mount Robyn’s head with the rest of his hunting trophies? It might look a bit odd, but there’s certainly a space for it between the ogre and that massive stag.
What? Oh, sorry. Where were we?
Oh, yes. The sheriff of Bakingham and Trollsbridge is ordering out his men. Soon the jail house will be emptied and Elaine will be free to—
“Ghomar!” the sheriff snaps. “You’ll remain and keep watch over the young lady.”
Damn.
With a perfunctory nod to Elaine, the sheriff snatches up his sword and storms out the door with his men.
Well, that only leaves one guard for our brave heroine to deal with and…
Oh, dear.
The man who enters the front room clearly has giant’s blood somewhere in his lineage. At nearly seven feet tall with limbs that would make an ogre jealous, Ghomar towers over our fair maiden, eclipsing her and nearly half the room in his shadow. A cheerful but incongruous smile crosses his blocky face.
"Hello, little one," Ghomar's thick bass voice rattles the windows. "Can I get you some water?"
Elaine swallows. “Um. Yes, please.”
Oh, my. Hopefully the water is outside the room. Preferably across town and… And no. It’s in a water jug on the corner table. Right. Our girl is going to need some quick thinking to get out of this one, fair reader. It’s truly a—
What?
NO! Absolutely not!
No, I cannot interfere. Before was a mistake but—
Yes, yes, I know she needs help, but it’s against the rules. I can’t just go “And the ogre head falls off the wall and knocks Ghomar out.” That would be—
**CLUNK**
…
…
Well, shit.
***
Meanwhile at the Withershins Inn…
Advertisement
Law Of Karma
Yu Xiang had the good fortune of being reborn in this new world into a strong Sect. Now a fledgling Cultivator of his own, he seeks to go as far as his legs and soul will take him, hopefully causing the least amount of pain and misery possible to his fellow cultivators and mortal people alike. After all, with flying swords, reality-bending masters, and giant spiritual beasts running around, who knew if Karma was a thing here? Better to hedge his bets and be on his best behavior. If only it were that easy... ______________________________ Updates on Sundays. English isn't my first language so feel free to point out any weird sentences, or errors.
8 155Lord Of Horrors [DISCONTINUED]
In the year 2378, the people of the newly-colonized planet Eredea did as all colonialists often do. They dug deep into their new world, exploring each nook and exploiting every cranny it had to offer. Again, much like everyone else, there came a time when they dug a bit too deep... but what they found on that day is not what they would learn to fear. --- For those who do not know, every chapter with the " Lemon: A chapter which contains, is made up entirely of or is a prelude to a sexual or highly erotic/suggestive scene. --- Lord Joyde The Madman: I've been convinced by a couple people that posting my new story on multiple sites is the best course of action. Other site - https://www.fictionpress.com/u/879573/Lord-Joyde 2. https://www.scribblehub.com/series/3440/lord-of-horrors/
8 136Wailing and Gnashing
Some are born to save life. Some damned to endure it. To those who dwell in the dark, gnashing their dagger teeth with hunger, life is for feeding on, and they've just discovered an endless feast. "There are those whose teeth are swords,whose fangs are knives,to devour the poor from off the earth,the needy from among mankind."-Proverbs 30:14
8 69Magic Evolution
One day, a mysterious phenomenon caused the accelerated evolution of everything on earth. What was initially taken for a blessing by humanity with the appearance of new types of resources and a few people having developed incredible abilities later qualified as magic quickly turned into a nightmare. Nations found new reasons to wage war against each other and they didn't cease until humanity had to face a greater threat than itself; species that had evolved far more brutally than humans. Nicolaï was born nearly a century after the world had began to change, but his fate wasn't more enviable than the billions who died during that era. Living in more than miserable conditions for as long as he could remember, his destiny was to die before blowing out his tenth candle. But someone held out his hand to him for the first time in his life and decided to train him to become a Mage capable to impose himself in this dangerous and corrupt new world.
8 124RELINQUISH
Sometimes I wonder why the world isn't decorated with something as cool as magic... Why can't we manipulate the laws of the world? Why does the story about God sound too fake to be believed? Why the hope for this world to be saved from the bottom of everyone's heart can never be fulfilled... Then I landed on each conclusion from each of those questions... That humans are the most cunning, meanest and stupidest creatures who are most desperately expected to not have any power including magic itself. That it is not God that we should believe in, because they themselves do not believe in how disgusting human nature really is. That everyone's hope is not for the world to be saved, but for the world to be destroyed in order to save their own selves. That the world from the beginning, was not meant to be saved... (I frequently revise and update the use of sentences in the previous chapters without disturbing the original storyline. so sometimes it takes me a little longer to publish a new chapter.) I have the same novel posted on another website (Webnovel.com , creativenovels.com) with the same name (RELINQUISH)
8 214I Hate You Master
A man, relentlessly pressed into training since a young age to be an elite mage, is forced to face the cruel reality that he just does not have what it takes to achieve that goal. After being thrown out by his father, the arch mage, he turns to the one option left. He becomes a demi-human tamer and sets out to gather resources to continue his studies.Also, he's a cold and calculating jerk who sees those Demi-Humans as simple trained animals, as is the custom in that part of the world. Enjoy!Mature Content Warning: This story features the purchase and sale of cute girls, and the use of said girls as gladiators for spectators. Concepts such as sexual enslavement and general disinterest in civil rights abound.
8 376