Gooooooood afternoon Iron Wyvern and readers! Apropos of the title, I, one third of the J.T.Z. Baner trio, have written a short snippet for the Wyvern, but, more importantly, have an announcement to make.
So, all you in the back, quiet down, this is important!
As you have doubtless noticed, unless you haven't been to the blog before, or re just literally blind, in which case you are excused from noticing; the blog has been quiet for awhile. But no longer!
After this post, as soon as literarily possible, I will be posting a Draconian Debate, where the three uncles from the illustrious TDL will battle it out over magical lawsuits and such, along with other figures from their world.
So, without further ado, here's the short story! Enjoy, and be ready for some more Draconian fun! Iiiiiif we don't procrastinate.....lets hope.
Sliding along the wall at high speed, Markus’ feet skidded on the shaving strewn floor as he sprang around another flimsy wall scaffold into yet another maze passage. Then he stopped dead. At the far end, a monstrous rat reared at the sight of him, a savage meld of shock and outrage sparking in its small, intense eyes.
Issuing a battle cry, consisting of both a squeal and scream, the giant rodent charged for Markus, whose legs had been momentarily cemented with fear. Acting quickly in the split seconds before impact, he snatched at the walls around him, quickly finding handholds enough to pull himself up with sufficient speed to avoid to snapping jaws of his verminous assailant, whose chitters of outrage quickly receded downwards as Markus climbed to the very top of the wall.
Balancing easily on the thin support, Markus gazed out across the maze’s wall tops, where he could clearly see the exit route cutting through the muddled blockages like a clean streak on a dusty tabletop.
Cheering silently, Markus gave a spirited leap across from his wall peak and onto the adjacent one which enclosed the final stretch to the maze’s exit. Nimbly he scaled the wall and was a foot from the opening when he heard a squeal of triumph from behind him. Spinning he saw the same rat charging straight at him, its whole body bunched like a deadly, hairy, spring.
This time Markus stood his ground, he would not flee this time, it was showdown time. They would finish this like true warriors. And as the rat was about to crash into him—
“LOOK, CHEESE!” squeaked Markus, jabbing straight up. And as the rat slowed and raised its head Markus poked it in the eye, pulled its ears, and tugged its whiskers so violently that it ran hissing for the other end of the exit corridor.
Victorious, Markus scampered out of the maze into the glaring beam of an industrial desk lamp. “Yes!” cried a small boy towering above the large table. “Markus wins again!” I stood on my back paws, twitched my illustrious whiskers, and basked in the many pats and strokes that thoroughly flattened my soft ears.
Several boys started a short lived campaign on the possibilities of cheating, but Markus’ owner vetoed it; making it all too clear that however well his mouse had run the maze, it wasn’t smart enough to do anything like cheat.
Markus ignored the babble of the crowd and slid down a power cord onto the soft carpet, intent on finding Mr. Fluffykins and laughing in his face. He owed him a fiver anyway from that last game of poker.