G’narsh
The Troll, The Myth, The Legend
by
Kevin Stillwater
chapter 3
# # # And Here Now Our Story - G’narsh’s Ray’s # # #
page 2
On top of all that (making his unease all the more
difficult to understand), the time of day leans in his favor -- Son of
Chaos that he is. It is late at night -- so late, in fact, that
one might want to call it very early morning instead. And G’narsh
knows that he should be calm and relaxed, but he is not. The
first troubling fact is that Lane’s post by the front door is empty...
again. She disappeared -- like she has been doing for months now
-- the moment the doors closed for the night. She hasn’t said
where she’s been going and, well, being polite -- and discrete --
G’narsh has not asked. But, he should not have to ask. He
is her liege! She has sworn an oath!
G’narsh’s temper flares at these thoughts as he unconsciously forms a
fist. He has a sudden desire to talk -- that’s what the humans in
these parts call it. He has a sudden desire to talk with Lane, a
simple conversation, wherein he might inquire as to where she has been
going, and what she has been doing, while he gouged an eye, landed a
(((well placed))) punch or two, and held an arm, or two, or three, or
four behind her back (for she has several).