Non-Erotic

Chapter one The Merchant’s Home I watched the merchant’s home from two houses away. The large gargoyle I was hiding behind was more than big enough to hide me. I watched as the door opened and both the merchant and his annoying wife walked away. I waited until they were down the street further and carefully moved back. I quietly moved to the side of the building and lifted the narrow board. Each end of the board had rags wrapped around it. I pushed the board across the gap between the houses and let the other end down onto the edge of the other house. Staying on my stomach I crawled across and then moved quietly to the other end of the house. Another board and I was on top of the merchant’s house. I …

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I found the trunk in side room off the basement. It must have been a secret room at one time, but the door had crumbled with the passing of time. I was eighteen and lived on an old sail boat in a boatyard. Not that that was bad, the boat was fifty feet long and was really nice. I lived on a trust from my grandfather and had moved out of my parent’s house a year ago when they started fighting. I still had a couple of weeks of school left and then I planned to go to the local college. Anyway the trunk, I was exploring the basement of grandfather’s old farmhouse late on a Friday. The trunk was huge, at least seven feet long and three deep. I was careful as I pulled …

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Chapter 1 Remembering I was born July 25 1940 and my name is Samuel David Grey. I enjoyed learning new languages and could speak and understand seven by the time I graduated from high school. My father had been a veteran of World War II and came to believe a man should be able to defend himself. Because he did, I was taught kung fu and judo from an early age. By the time I entered the Army I was a master in both arts. I also practiced the Japanese art of Kendo. Like most boys of that age, I was taught how to use a rifle and enjoyed hunting with my father. I was what he called a natural with a rifle and rarely ever missed. When I was twenty, I decided to join …

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Chapter 1 Opening my eyes I had always been different than others of the clan, I was faster and have better endurance. I was better with weapons or my hands, I was also better at solving problems. What I was not was a full clan member. I had been bought in a market by the Quirrin Master and adopted. My name was Quillan or Clan lost as the clan called me. Most of the clan ignored me and called me Lan. The ones that did not learned to respect my abilities and stayed out of reach. In eighteen years I had learned and passed all the tests of a clan warrior. I had even past tests that most masters could not, only the Quirrin Master was my equal. Other people called us assassins, but we …

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Chapter one A Thief’s Beginning I remember the first time I watched Petri’e practice picking pockets. He was using a mock person that was dressed in merchant clothes. There was tiny bells sewn into the suit of clothes and they rang if he did it wrong. I was lying on the floor in the next room looking through a small hole. I was only twelve and he had taken me off the streets. We were in the attic of the thieves guild. I had followed him up from the apprentice floor. Preti’e was a journeyman pickpocket. I had spent the last two years as a helper in a blacksmith shop, but the blacksmith had been killed when he was kicked by a horse. I did pick up the skill to make small edged weapons as …

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Prologue My name is Sinclair and I was born on the street. I do not remember my mother and never knew my father. I was raised mostly by various thieves. By ten I was one of the best pickpockets and could pick any lock. By fourteen I was one of the best thieves in the city. I had an edge over the others because I could see the signs magic left. Oh, I was not a mage or wizard but seeing the signs of magic let me avoid traps that caught others. I was eighteen when I met the mage Silver. I was feeling a little bored and it had started to rain. The mage shop was quaint with glazed glass windows. I slipped the lock easily and stepped in avoiding a magic trap on …

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My name is Hunter Silvan. I am nineteen and had just finished burying the last of my family. We have lived here at the base of the northern mountains for ten generations. I have grown up learning to fight, track and hunt, my mother had made sure I could read and write as well. Life around the only pass out of the north was always hard. Besides the King’s Keep filled with soldiers, there were constant raids by Dark elves, orcs or goblins, there were occasionally trolls or long toothed lions. I straightened and looked across the fields in the valley below to see a large city. This was where I had been told the mercenary companies wintered. I was looking for work as a scout and started down the road pulling the pack horse …

Mercenary Scout Read More »