I've been working quite a bit on this work in progress, and I think it's starting to come along. I'm up to almost 8,000 words. I think I almost know which direction this will go. So far the reading level is grade 4, but I'm gearing it toward teens. The writing is pretty simple and direct, so I guess that's why the level is so low. Anyway, please let me know your thoughts in the comments section below. Any input is always appreciated.
Chapter 2
Quirk takes a journey and describes his traveling companions.
Listen, I’ve never been one for travel and this little journey has done nothing to change my mind. If anyone ever offers you the opportunity to travel through the mountains in a cage on four wheels being pulled by a team of old, broken down, farting horses, I suggest that you politely decline, turn, and run the other way as fast as you can. Although if you were surrounded by a large contingent of Cratt soldiers as were are, your chances of running away would be slim to none.
Unfortunately, no one gave me or my companions the opportunity to do so. What? Oh, my companions. I suppose I should tell you something about them, seeing as how I’m locked up with them, and you, by association, are as well.
They’re not much to look at right now. A few I know, the rest appear to be people from other villages in the area. I guess Naguu wasn’t the only village on Cratt’s hit parade. Anyway, we’re crammed in here pretty tight, not much room to breathe let alone move. At the moment, I’m jammed up against some guy in a dirty leather jerkin and some torn breeches. He’s wearing some sort of leather helmet with iron bands and studs. He’s unshaven and his breath stinks, but I guess I should be a little understanding, mine is probably none too fresh, either.
My back is pressed up against the iron bars of the cage we’re sitting in, and there’s a guy standing in front of me with his backside at eye level. Not a pretty sight. Doesn’t smell too good, either. To my right is a lady with long, mussed red hair in a ripped homespun shirt and linen pants. She’s wearing a leather vest and has knee high leather boots and while she’s softer and squishier than the dude on my left, she looks meaner. She’s already told me about ten times to stop touching her. I’ve done my best to explain to her that I’m not trying to touch her, it’s just that I don’t have much choice in the matter at the moment. Secretly, I’m glad I have an excuse.
Now, don’t think ill of me, it’s just there’s not much to do in a cage traveling through the mountains for who knows how long to who knows where. If I can’t keep myself preoccupied, I’ll start to think and worry and realize that I’m jammed in a cage with a bunch of people and not a privy in sight. Oh, damn, now that’s done it. I’m thinking about something else now. Great. Guess I’ll have to start a conversation with someone.
I turn to the girl, but she stares daggers at me and looks like she’s about to tell me to stop touching her again. The guy in front of me is not a candidate for conversation. So, I turn to my left-hand neighbor. He’s sitting there with his helmet scrunched down almost over his eyes, shocks of dirty, sandy blond hair sticking out from under it at odd angles.
“Uh, hey there,” I venture, trying to sound cheerful and friendly. Got to admit that’s hard for me at the best of times.
“Whadda ya want?” he snorts.
“What village you from?” I ask.
To my surprise, he answers. “Snoroth.”
“Ah, I know where that is. You’re about a day’s ride east of us.”
“We was, ain’t nothin’ left now,” he said, sounding a bit forlorn.
“Yeah, not much left of Naguu, either. I guess we’re in the same boat.”
He unwedged his arm and tilted back his helmet. His blue eyes stared at me curiously. “Boat? This is a cage, ain’t it?”
Oh great. Okay, not the brightest star in the sky, but he looked strong. Might as well try to make friends. He could come in handy. “My name’s Quirk, what’s yours?”
“Hugo.”
I try moving my arm to shake hands but realize doing so would risk even more intimate touching of the lady next to me, so I refrain.
“So, what did you do in Snoroth, Hugo?” I ask with as genuine a smile as I can muster under the circumstances.
“I was part of the guard.”
“Oh, too bad, guess you boys weren’t very successful at, er, guarding.”
Hugo frowned as if realizing something. “Nope, s’pose not.” He sighed. “I’m the only one they caught.”
“Did the others get away?” I asked hopefully.
“Nope, all killed.”
“Oh, too bad for them.”
“Only just a little better fer me,” Hugo noted, with what I suspect was a rare amount of insight for him.
“Yeah, well like I said, we’re all stuck in this cage now. I’m thinking maybe we should try to team up and think of a way out.”
Hugo frowned, obviously puzzled at the notion. I guessed that the thought of thinking himself out of any predicament was inconceivable to him.
“Okay, my bad. I guess I should be more clear. I’m suggesting that I think of a way to get us out of here and you provide whatever muscle that may be required to do it.
Hugo’s face brightened, and he smiled. This was something he understood. “Uh, yeah, okay. Sonds like a good idea. You’re smart.”
“We won’t know that for sure until I actually come up with a plan,” I replied.
At this point I guess I should tell you that I’ve had, uh, extensive experience with cages. I’ve spent a fair amount of time in and out of Naguu’s local lockup. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not a dangerous criminal or anything, but sometimes I can be a little impatient. I mean, why bother planting corn when I can cadge some spare ears off a farmer’s cart on the way to market? And if a shepherd has too many sheep, goats or pigs to keep track of, I do my best to help him out by looking after a stray or two. Now sometimes, the farmers resent my lifestyle philosophy and complain to the local constable.
The result is that I often find myself in the position in which I am now. The only difference this time, and I have to admit it’s a big difference, is that I was reasonably sure that I’d be released in a month or so, and in the meantime I’d have two or three square meals a day and a fairly comfortable cot to sleep on. I had also built up a good rapport with my jailers over the years. All in all, it was a reasonably pleasant experience.
