Postcards from Tamriel, Stories and such that fall somewhere between a snippet and a thread Options

[Grits]

Hi folks!

My characters are getting unruly, so I thought I’d make a place where I can hide from them while they fight it out. I mean, while I figure out what to do. The first time this happened, I posted Home for the Holidays, a very short story about Abiene’s Saturalia visit to Leyawiin in the year 3E432. I should have made this thread then, but at the time I still thought that every word I wrote would be the last. Someday I hope to make an offering at The Temple of Lore, but for now I’m still too guilty of undisciplined sprawling. I’ll start a story in the next post.

As always, comments and discussion are very welcome!

This post has been edited by SubRosa: Jun 23 2019, 03:31 AM

[ghastley]

This thread needs a bump, so I hope Grits doesn't mind a postcard from Clark. This is a snippet that never quite fit into anything else.

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Clark's Tales of the Bear Riders were being published by the Black Horse Courier's press as a subscription. The public could purchase each monthly chapter separately, and then have them all bound into a single volume when the series was complete. He'd already sent them the Claudia chapter, and it was just appearing in the bookstores around Cyrodiil.

He met Simplicia in the Market District, on his way to sign copies at Phintias' First Edition. She thanked him for the mention she'd got, as the one who told the Champion about Claudia in the watch-tower. "I'm famous now, and that makes people a lot more generous," she told him.

He hadn't used anyone's real names in the story, but it seemed that everyone knew who he meant. He asked if that got her any extra trouble from the watch-captains, as they hadn't appeared in quite the same light in the tale. "Oh, no, they're too busy keeping out of sight now everyone knows what they're like!" she laughed. "And the patrolmen see it the same way as the public."

There was a line of people waiting at the door of the First Edition, with a couple of extra watchmen keeping them in order. Inside, Phintias had put a stack of copies next to the small table in the corner, which was cleared off apart from a quill and inkwell. He seated himself behind it and nodded to Phintias to let the first customers in. They filed past Phintias, who took their money and announced their names, so he could make the inscriptions personal.

It seemed that everyone in the city came through over the next few hours. His hand was tired, and he'd worn out a dozen quills, before the last one left. There were only a handful of copies left from the pile he'd started with. He took one and wrote Simplicia's name on it, before signing his own.

She was delighted to have her own copy. "Most people just assume a beggar can't read," she told him. "I'd have bought one myself if it didn't mean going into a shop. I don't like being inside. I always feel like the walls are closing in on me. Silly, but I can't help it."

Simplicia was worried that she had nowhere to keep it dry. She just had a sack that she kept her food in, and it didn't matter if vegetables got a bit damp. The sack was just to keep them clean. He was going to get her a chest from Jensine's but Simplicia stopped him. If she had anything that locked, people might think she had something worth stealing. Not all thieves were in the Guild, and some of the freelancers would even steal from beggars. He fetched a small crate instead, one that had held flour, and had a lining to keep out moisture. That was perfect, and he put it under her sack at the head of her bedroll.