I had a fun thought the other night. Wouldn’t it be fun to have a story that develops from week to week? Surely it’s not an original idea, but I don’t really venture into the “blogging” world much. I know web comics have become a big thing in the last few years, how those people can develop new content day after day simply amazes me. Many of them don’t do that as a full time job!

Once a week seems much more me. If I had time to do more believe me, I’d choose to do it. I think every aspiring writer has that far-off dream of being able to do it full time. So few actually get to do that. Anyway, back to the point, I thought I’d give this a shot. I admit this wasn’t the most original start. I was cleaning out my filing box the other day and saw a folder of the first book I ever wrote. I used two ideas from the chapter I randomly flipped to when I started this first installment.

I’ll add all these to the rest of the site in order all well of course. Blog’s are fun, but they can be hard to catch up on for new viewers. So a place to go back and read them all in order seemed the best idea.

One more little note. Some might have noticed my percentages shot up this week. I added 10% onto the third draft in the last few days. My end of May deadline is flying quickly toward me now. I’ve had so much going on I’ve gotten behind. But I’m determined to at least get damn near finishing it.

I hope you enjoy the story, check back next Tuesday for part two!

For Jacob, Happy Birthday Brother!

Pekosh stared quietly at the figure walking from the forest into the clearing. This deep in the Birgal Forest people did not just happen by. His eyes drifted to the walls of his home. Walls filled with treasures and trinkets gained over a lifetime of exploration. There was nobody in the world with a greater collection from the previous age. Most of the items contained here would be overlooked as trash by humans, but to Pekosh they were everything.

The Zeegrak dedicated his life to the collection of these treasures, and there was no way they would be stolen so easily. More than three hundred years of gathering and protecting his findings.  He had become rather good at it. The first warnings had come well over an hour ago.

Over the centuries the forest had become his. The creatures within it were fine with that. He respected them; and they, in turn, gave him the privacy he sought. All across the lands the Birgal was known as haunted–a reputation he himself started. Not many had the nerve to enter anymore. None lived to take tales of it back out. Pekosh was almost impressed with the human who was now coming toward his cabin. The creatures of the forest didn’t let many through it after all.

The dull red pupils of Pekosh’s eyes followed the movement of the pest through the wooden walls. The faint outline of it was as easy to see as if the wall wasn’t present at all. It was just another benefit of the Zeegrak race. He couldn’t begin to fathom how his people had fallen so far; the hot-headed humans were inferior in almost every way, especially with their short lives.

As it approached the door he rose and vanished from sight. A trick he had discovered a century ago with great delight. The jeweled dagger slipped quietly from its sheath as the door opened. Pekosh moved behind the man that had walked into the room.

The human was rather strong, for a human. The hammer slung to its back would be difficult to lift by most of them, much less swung with the ease necessary to be an effective weapon. The human greed Pekosh had come to recognize so easily filled the man’s eyes as it looked over the possessions in the room. So, the filthy creature had come here looking for something like this.

“Like the collection?” The zeegrak asked the question quietly into the creature’s eyes. His dagger slipped into the intruders back even as the man was reaching for his hammer. In one fluid motion Pekosh spun in front of the human and thrust his foot hard against the man’s chest. The thief rose off his feet and flew backwards out the door of the house. It raised its head as Pekosh let himself slip back into view. The shock in its eyes disappeared along with any other sign of life.

Pekosh grinned; not even a drop of blood spilt on his nice clean floor.

Tags: Fantasy, podcast, The Conflicted Zeegrak, Tuesday Night Stories, Writings

This entry was posted on Tuesday, April 14th, 2009 at 10:42 pm and is filed under Tuesday Night Stories, WIP, Writings. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.