Second version was miles better than the first, BUT......
So for the last few months, as well as doing my normal every day job, the edit of the edit has been proceeding very slowly...
I am not a fan of doing things over and over again - I will admit it - I have a short attention span.
However the final draft, the version I am going to go with, is done....
Below is a brief taster to thank people for their patience.
Pete, Pyewacket and Nigel are travelling through the Fae, and need a place to stay for the night.
With the light fading to darkness, we walked beside
a muddy creek for a couple of minutes, until a strange sight appeared out of
the gloom. Perched on stilts was a wooden building, half suspended above a dark
pool, fed by the trickling creek. The pool end of the building had at some time
sunk, giving the structure a lopsided drunken look. Around the lower edge ran a
carved balcony, decorated with carvings of fish, eels, and frogs. Nets and
other fishing paraphernalia hung from the hand rail. Set into the wooden
shingle roof were a number of small garret windows, glowing with a warm yellow
light. The lower windows and door were shuttered and closed. Off to the right
was a thatched barn or stable, roofed with local reeds, from which a low and
tuneless humming sound emerged.
“You
can see why it’s called The Stuck in the Mud, it sort of fits.” I said.
My
voice must have carried to the stable, as the humming stopped and heavy
footfalls moved towards the door. I stepped back in shock at what emerged.
Standing
seven or eight feet tall was a bald, grossly obese troll wearing a filthy
loincloth. Flabby breasts flopped over a huge swollen stomach, which in turn
folded over a wide rope belt. The whole effect looked like he was made from a
grey brown wax that was slowly meting towards the floor. His neck was decorated
with loops and coils of old rusty chain. The troll had small, deep set, piggy
eyes that stared intently at us.
“Wot
you want?” he rumbled in a deep voice.
“Erm
we need a room for the night, if that’s Ok with you?” I replied as politely as
I could.
“You
not goblins iz you? It says no goblins,” said the troll pointing to a sign on
the side of the stable.
I
looked at the sign, reading it quickly. Welcome, please leave all animals in
stable. It made no mention of goblins, unless they counted as animals. I smiled
at the troll. I guessed he couldn’t see the sign clearly, with his short
sighted eyes, or even read it if the words didn’t look too fuzzy.
“No
definitely not goblins, just some travellers in need of some food and a place
to sleep”
“Dat’s
OK den! Welcome to The Stuck in the Mud; finest tavern in the Fens. I am Prole
the customer service manager.” His fat pudgy fingers pulled out a worn plastic
id badge from the chains around his neck. The badge was for a female cleaner,
from a down market road side hotel chain. Blind or stupid it didn’t matter, he
was huge and I was not going to upset him by pointing out the glitch, or
misunderstanding. If the troll was happy with the badge so was I. “As a
customer do you want servicing?” he asked.
What
this might entail was slightly worrying, so I replied, “No thank you Prole. We
can manage. You have been most helpful. Hasn’t he Nigel?”
Nigel
smiled and gave a little wave, to which the troll gave a sharp toothy grin in
reply. He slowly turned around, wobbling gently, to return to the stable. A
moment later the tuneless hum resumed from a contented troll, for a job well
done!
