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Jobs Set Your Own Hours

Setting souls

The two men couldn't have looked more out of place on the cold afternoon streets of New Hadepee. The first was a scrawny fellow, no taller than five foot eight, wearing a white shirt marred with ugly reddish-brown stains and a pair of plain tan pants. His companion, by contrast, carried himself with an air of quiet authority—a regal-looking man with a neatly trimmed black beard, wrapped in a great black coat with a red scarf pulled snug around his neck. "I heard the man himself has come back," the one in the stained shirt said, carefully balancing on the curb with his arms outstretched. "Oh? And where did you hear that?" his companion asked, turning his head with amusement to watch the precarious balancing act. "Welp, the sergeant major told me to go down to Olker, so I figured that could only mean he's back," the man in the white shirt replied. "Vistor has close cultural and political ties with the kingdom of Olker. Don't you think it's just a protection job?" the older man in black inquired, a hint of humor in his voice. "Oh, come on, Mang, you know they'd never give someone like me a protection job," the man in the white shirt scoffed, jumping off the curb and spinning around a lamppost. The older man—now known as Mang—came to a halt, reaching into his coat and pulling out an envelope. "Well, Tai, I suppose you're wrong." Mang handed the envelope to him. Tai peeled open the envelope, sliding out the letter and studying it carefully. "Oh wow, so Marlin is marrying the queen of those people?" he asked with a shrug. "She is not a queen. Don't let anyone call her that," Mang snapped. "And if her people weren't so damn difficult, we would have annexed them already." "So we let them succeed but not Gascon? Whose idea was that? They're more like us than those humans are," Tai said, frowning. "Gascon was willing to sell to the Emperor for a small chunk of change," Mang quipped. "The Noctrous family was not." "Ok so what's that matter, all we need is a little persuasion to change their minds? We killed the chief of Gnomandale and sent his stuffed head back to them, then they sold Gnomendale to us. All we need to do to get Olker is beat the hell out of Sylvie and she will sell." Tai folds the letter and places it back into the envelope. "Tai, the people of Vistor don't have the heart to see us beat up the Eladrin people like we did the Gnomes, and plus their Chief tramp Silvye is much too pretty for us to put her head on a stick."  "Welp, it's our loss," Tai muttered, spitting onto the sidewalk. "No, it's not. Not if Chester is back…" Tai frowned. "What's Chester gonna do?" "Last I recall, his fallout with Sylvie wasn't just a petty disagreement. Before he died, he built a fleet of ships and hid them in a cove somewhere. If he wanted revenge, all he'd need is an army." "And who the hell would fight for him?" "The same people who fight for us—the poor." This is a prequel to Then Maker, another story of mine. The writing may feel somewhat outdated compared to my more recent work, but it consists of a series of scenes that occur before the main events of the novel. The description is one of my most recent pieces, which is why it differs in style from the rest of the book.
Thornton_Chase · 1.6K Views

The Hour of Death: Doombringer

When justice fails, vengeance takes its place. After his daughter Vanessa suffers a tragic fate at the hands of those she trusted, Horris turns to the one thing more powerful than the law—something ancient, something forbidden. With a single curse, he condemns the world to a slow, merciless death. No one is spared. A nameless plague spreads, twisting flesh, corrupting minds, and reducing order to chaos. As civilization crumbles, the truth becomes clear: this is no ordinary disease. It is retribution. And in a world where the guilty walk free, no one is truly innocent. ... Hours Later… Darius arrived at the hospital, and what he saw terrified him. Dozens of people lay writhing in agony, blood gushing from every opening in their bodies. Reporters, paramedics, and police officers surrounded the area, trying to make sense of the outbreak. “We’re here live at Stanbridge National Hospital, where it appears a deadly disease has broken out,” a reporter said, speaking into the camera. “Symptoms include uncontrollable screaming and severe bleeding from the eyes, nose, mouth, and ears.” Darius’ heart pounded. His mind kept flashing back to Horris’ curse. The Doombringer. He scanned the scene and finally spotted Betty, sitting in an ambulance. Stephan lay unconscious on a stretcher beside her. He rushed forward, but the paramedics blocked his path. “That’s my wife!” he protested. “I need to see if she’s okay!” “Sir, now’s not the time,” a paramedic said. “There’s an outbreak, and we have no idea how it spreads. For your safety—and for everyone else’s—we advise you to leave immediately.” “Please, I have to see them,” Darius begged. Before the paramedic could respond, Darius noticed something crawling on the man’s shoulder. “There’s something on you—” The paramedic turned his head—just as the worm leaped onto his neck. The second it burrowed into his skin, the man’s body seized up. A strangled scream tore from his lips as blood exploded from his eyes, mouth, and nose. Darius staggered back in horror. Everywhere he looked, people were screaming. Even the reporter who had been live was now convulsing on the ground, her camera abandoned beside her. A single word echoed in Darius’ mind. Doombringer.
Kelvin_Soarer · 11.8K Views
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