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Eyes of Gaal (A Fantasy Short Story)

Discussion in 'Member Publications | Shameless Self-Promotion' started by BoyBleu, Nov 2, 2017.

  1. BoyBleu

    BoyBleu Member

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    Eyes of Gaal KDP cover.jpg
    Can you steal from a god?
    A witch and a thief tempt fate when they seek a god’s power.
    It was neither the tang of sea nor the rancidness of rotting fish, garbage and offal that roused me from my doze. Nor was it the creaking of ships at berth, the loading and off-loading of cargo, nor the movement and cries of men. No, it was none of the everyday stench and noise about the quay of Portside, that festering pustule that marks the fair cheek of uVaal, the Splendid City. It was the clinking of coin into my bowl. I raised my head.

    “Tell me a story,” the stranger said. “They say that you know of the Eyes of Gaal.”

    "Only thieves seek the Eyes of Gaal and their fate. Sit, and listen.”

    It was the night of Full Sail, the month of the Squid, when the danger of Typhoon had passed. Revelers filled the streets of Ospraa By The Sea, the only city of the Isle of Mûta, whose name means death. . . .



     
  2. BoyBleu

    BoyBleu Member

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  3. BoyBleu

    BoyBleu Member

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    Eyes of Gaal free today thru Dec. 4th

    The Thief
    It was the night of Full Sail, the month of the Squid, when the danger of Typhoon had passed. Revelers filled the streets of Ospraa By The Sea, the only city of the Isle of Mûta, whose name means death. Brilliant ribbons and banners bedecked the ships and boats that rocked calmly in sheltered Ospraa Bay and streamed from every tower and building. It had been a bad year—six typhoons scoured Mûta—and the people celebrated survival. The followers of TaMer, the Great Fish, packed the square before the temple of their god.

    Tikk slid easily through the press and when he emerged the pockets of his cloak were heavier than when he entered. He slipped down an alley to a less crowded street and zigzagged his way to a tavern in the eastern quarter. Even here a crowd toasted the full moon and the blessings of TaMer, but Tikk found a quiet nook where—with a cool cup of quash—he could inspect his catch. . . .
     

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