The hunched traveler walked towards the lone source of light in the distance. The man was covered almost entirely by his warm fur lined poncho, he would look humble, even destitute, if not for the clearly over-polished and smart looking business shoes. Shoes like these said “punctual and accurate” in over 50 different languages (though only when the tongue was not held back by the laces). The man was attempting to give the impression that his journey was one that traversed many dangers and hardships, but the over clean shoes and the platoon of bronzed plated soldiers minutes away somewhat broke that illusion. The soldiers ready to thrust themselves upon any foreseen or immediate threat to the traveling well-shoe’d man.
Such a thing would never occur.
This man was a very important man.
Not so much himself, but who he represented
This man was a lawyer.
The little shack was noted as the last known living arrangements for the late chief executive offers estranged son. The empire needed someone at the head to drive away the merciless stock holders of neighboring kingdoms and to keep the peasantry ignorantly blissful. It had to be a Nicholson, and with the late CEO’s other son and daughter at the heads of their own companies, the only one left was the bastard middle child, who had not a wit of patience when it came to matters of company policy or contracts. He was a wizard, a somewhat talented one too, but in today’s economy this did not amount to much. If he was not a Nicholson he probably could of made a living well enough traveling from village to village spell-weaving and performing busy work, but his heritage followed him, and not many simple folk would want to seem indebted to the largest firm in the country.
<Another story to be continued or worked on! ideas for days!>
Edward Leeming 17/11/2017