Stripes

By Chris Garson

Blade might have named Tomello to run the Fins' day to day operations, but that didn't mean the older rogues respected him. Alziri had wanted the job and many thought it should have gone to him.

Stripes takes place in Sangrar, the setting for the Tale of Ages. It begins in the year 4725, a year before the GOd-Emperor exiles Hali.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Chris Garson
• Release date: Feb 27, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301185887

Chris Garson

Officially, I was laid off and have a severance package to prove it, but really, it was an early retirement. Very early, I was just shy of fifty. When the time came to make the cut, I gladly volunteered. I’d had enough. Now, after three years of writing, rewriting and rewriting, I’m dipping my toe in commercial waters. I haven’t sold a word, not yet, but then again, I haven’t tried until now. Don't worry, I’m no starving artist. I provided twenty-five years of leadership as an IT executive with a Fortune 200 company. That’s a quarter century of corporate moments, some of which have already found homes in short stories. I was nationally known, in insurance technology circles, which is to say entirely unknown, led an organization commanding a nine figure budget not counting pennies, and spoke to thousands at industry events.THE CURSE OF ARVYL’S FOLLY is my first full length work seeking an audience since my fourth grade classmates were subjected to “Augusta the Dragon” forty-two years ago. After leaving Mrs. Hamilton’s classroom, I attended Wesleyan University in Middletown, Connecticut, where I devoured fantasy and science fiction classics and became an avid gamer on my way to graduating with degrees in psychology and sociology and a minor in King Arthur. Now, I live in Cleveland Heights, Ohio and my seven year old son Neil lives on the east coast. I named my cats, China and Rider, from a Grateful Dead set list, and I still like dragons. My collection is large, Neil ran out of fingers and toes just counting the winged ornaments dangling from my mantel, and very cheesy.

Book preview

Stripes

By Chris Garson

Copyright 2013 Chris Garson

Smashwords Edition

That’s the third one this month, Alziri complained in that accusatorial tone of his. The older rogue had never quite accepted that Blade had named Tomello to take over after Kaizal last year. The guild needed a strong second, Blade couldn’t be there day in and day out, and Tomello had felt honored that Blade thought so highly of him. Until that day, he hadn’t even known that Blade knew his name. Alziri had thought the position would be his. He and Kaizal had been good friends and had entered the guild at about the same time. If Blade had picked him, no one would have complained and a few would have cheered. Alziri claimed that noble blood watered the roots of his family tree and Tomello believed him, as much for his I’m-better attitude as his fair skin, which for the guild was as rare as a virgin in Tintammil. The glow from the lamps lighting the warehouse’s office lighting wasn’t dim enough to hide Alziri’s sneer.

I’m painfully aware, Tomello answered. He was leaning back in a big leather chair with his feet on the desk. The desk was new. For the chair, he had to thank his predecessor. The paperwork filling the book cases, shelves and filing cabinets lining the room dated back to the guild’s early days.

Lay off, Alziri, said Biraeus. The tall, red-haired rogue was another well-tenured scallywag and Tomello’s strongest backer to date, though it hadn’t always been that way. In the beginning, Biraeus had spoken against him, loudly, but after Gloryngael he’d come around. Who do you think’s behind them?

Tomello had thought about little else lately. These disappearances were bad for business. Everyone looked to the guild for protection. Whether you were a simple beggar, street walker, or pickpocket or a second story burglar for hire, the guild was your rock, or at least it was supposed to be. The guild kept an eye on the street and for a small cut, helped out when you needed helping. Sometimes that meant hiding you in a friendly cellar, or fencing stolen goods, or greasing the right palm.

But for it all to work, the people