Sunday, September 2, 2012

Some fun with The Hellfire Legacy

I am rolling right along with The Hellfire Legacy. Things aren't all doom and gloom and crazy family secrets though, there are times when everyone gets a good laugh. 

We ended up waiting at the rendezvous for twenty minutes before the others showed up.
            Lu had acquired a very strange hat that appeared to be made entirely of feathers, Simon had a black eye and Bronson was looking a bit worse for wear.
            “You don’t look like you had very good luck,” Jack said. “Nice hat.”
            Lu scowled. “I was proposed to four times.”
            “Twice,” Simon added. “And one of them was an ogre.” He shuddered.
            “No,” Bronson said. “We didn’t have very good luck.”
            “Well, Fynn sold his first born son and got us some names from a smarmy looking leprechaun.”
            “Really, Fynn?” Bronson gave me a look.
            “What? Like I’m going to be a father. Let’s go. We need to get hold of the Dublin Night Shift and run some names down.”
            “Sounds good to me,” Bronson said. His expression changed from annoyed to concerned. He scented the air. “I smell trolls.”
            “And? I’ve got no issue with the trolls here,” I said.
            “I think you’re underestimating the communication network of trolls,” Bronson said. “Let’s get the hell out of here before we find out if the Dublin trolls have cousins in Chicago.”
            “Fynn Adder.”
            I turned on hearing my name. There were three men standing next to the market’s exit. One of them wore a silver, seven pointed star as a belt buckle. That was the most obvious display, but I spotted a ring on another.
            “That’s me.”
            “You and your people need to come with us now.” It was the one with the ring that spoke. A thirty-something, red haired fellow I assumed smoked a hell of a lot more than I did by the nicotine stains on his fingers and the wrinkles around his eyes and lips.
            Jack gave me a look. “I think we’re being called to the principal’s office, love.”
            “I think you’re right.”
            “Mr. Adder,” the ring man said. “Now.” He gave me a very dark look. Not friendly at all.
            “All right then, let’s go.”
            I thought there might have been a slight communication error somewhere. Either that, or Mr. Ring had a personal vendetta. Except I didn’t know anyone in Dublin. More than that though, I knew as soon as I got a bit closer the man was some kind of shape shifter. He had the same feral feeling to him. I just wasn’t sure what kind.
            “I didn’t get your name,” I said.
            He grimaced. “It’s Rory, O’Shea.”
            “Lead on then Mr. O’Shea.”
            I might have failed this first impression.

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