oh well, the tone of the post changed quite a bit form the first few pages...didn't it? Oops. lol

I have a birth mark kinda shaped like a cross.

This is a short I wrote a while back, and was wondering if I should start it up again. Let me know

Chapter 1

The deed done, the figure in black sheathe the still bloody dagger. And turning from the dead eyed corps, walked away without looking back. The end of Baron Berch Selvidor's reign was met with cheers and celebration. The realm had one less evil Baron to suffer with, and a new hero watching over its people from the shadows.

And they all lived happily ever after.

What a load of horse ****.

Tossing the book on the bed I got up and looked out the window. Why do all stories end like that? I mean, who writes these things? Have they ever BEEN out in the real world? For once I would like to read a story where the hero gets knifed in an ally by a drunk begger. Now THATS a good story. Happily ever after? No such thing.

Don't look at me like that. Im entitled to my opinion.

I haven't had a good month, ok. Im a thief. Meaning I steal things for a living. Unfortunately, with the death of the Emperor, security in the Imperial city has gotten pretty tight. Making my job much harder.

So I've had to live on what I could get from the Waterfront. And considering the only people worth stealing from in the place are other thieves, I haven't been making much. Whores and beggars aren't exactly rich. And trust me, stealing from a thief is a bad idea, the guild will do more than cut of your hand. They are far more creative than the guard. Nasty doesn't even begin to describe.

So now I've had to resort to some very desperate measures. Honest work.

I feel so dirty.

And its all that damn Emperor Septims fault. The inconsiderate bastard had to go and get himself assassinated. Now I'm stuck working in a Brothel all night instead of out hunting the street like a proper thief.

Its rude to stare.

Its not what you think. Im more of a body guard. What? You don't think I could do it? You don't think a 5ft nothing, 100lb Breton girl can protect a group of 'girls' from a room full of drunken thugs? Well, let me tell you...your right. I've had to get rather...creative. There's more to the job than brute force.

I've found poison quite use full.

Pick your jaw up off the floor. Not the killing kind. More like the kind that puts you to sleep for a day or two. Or, if the guys a real Jack-Ass, the kind that cause impotence. Hey, After seeing what these thugs are capable of, I SHOULD kill them. Though than I'd have no income and nowhere to stay, even though the room was drafty and no matter how much you cleaned it still felt dirty, it was the best I was likely to get.

You see, Im a Breton, and Bretons are supposed to be natural magic users. Unfortunetly for me, my father was an imperial. And I take after him. I can cast a few small spells, I can open easy locks and move silver wear with a telekenisis spell, but other than that, i couldn't spellsling my way out of a swarm of bees.

A situation you had better pray your never in. I have scars in some very awkward places.

NO YOU CANNOT TAKE A LOOK!

Gods tell a person you live in a brothel and the first they do is ask if they ca- OH BLOODY HELL!

A woman screamed. And this was not the usual, 'Im actually rather bored, but I'm going to pretend I'm having the time of my life.' kind of scream. This was defiantly an 'I'm in unspeakable pain, and fear for my life.' kind of scream. And it repeated itself. It sounded....wet.


I burst out of my room and start running down the hall.


Once, just once, I'd like to have one night of peace. Why can't these drunks get it through their thick skulls, you hurt a girl, you get hurt back, twice as bad.

If I'm in a GOOD mood.

And right now, im in a bad mood. The scream repeated. It was coming from around the corner. There was only one room that way.

Make that a VERY bad mood.

That one room was Chawnee's. Or as we call her 'Nee'. She was the youngest of all the girls. She was also the most trusting of all of them. The girl would invite a starved wolf to dinner. And also, she was probably the only person I can call a friend. If you haven't noticed Im not the sociable type. Plus she had gotten me the job. Someone was going to pay.

I turned the corner and stopped dead in my tracks. There was a guard outside the door. Not a man guarding the door. An actual GUARD. Leather armor, shield, and short sword.

What the hell?

If this guy could afford a bloody body guard, why would he come to a mud hole like this?

Another scream. Oh yeah, the expensive girls don't stand for this kind of treatment. Here at Mara's House of Pleasure, we value your money more than our health.

Did I mention I hate this place? No?

Well I do.

A guard. How in the hell am I supposed to get past that? And i forgot my damn poisons in my room. No blow darts, no poisoned throwing knives, and I doubt I can flirt and giggle my way past him.

Ok Sandaril, think...no poison, one knife, and your wits. Been a while since you've used those huh?

Again the scream. This time it was choked off.

Screw it.

I ran around the corner and charged. Apparently, being charged by a 100lb redhead in cheap brown leather was more of a joke than a threat to Mr. Leathercladidiot. His mistake, in less than a second, I jumped at him, my feet met his face with a wet crunch. Lovely. Now I have to clean my boots.

When you dont have the tools you need, improvise. I pride myself on my ability to improvise. I bent over to make sure he wasn't going to get up and catch me from behind.

Wipe that smirk off your face.

He was out cold. Still, better sure than sorry. I kicked him in the face.

I tried the nob on the door. Unlocked...I guess he put a bit too much trust in his body guard. Maybe this would be easier than I thought.

I opened the door, and nearly retched.

Soooo…I've quit smoking. Yup that's right, I remember saying nothing
could every get me to quit. Well, after cigarettes caused me to pass
out, butt naked, in front of a female friend of mine, I realized
something…I was wrong.
Now your wondering how in the hell a cigarette could make me do
something like that. Well I'll tell you.
It all started when I was getting dressed in front of my bedroom
mirror. I was looking in the mirror, and noticed I had a the start of
some love handles. It was the beginning of summer, so I figured it was
about time to work off my winter weight. And what better way to do that
then to start running every morning. You see, I used to run two miles
every morning last summer. So I figured running a mile or two every
morning THIS summer would be a piece of cake, if I could do it then, I
can do it now. Well, I had forgotten that last year, I wasn't SMOKING A
PACK AND A HALF A DAY. That's something you want to remember when
planning any strenuous activity…such as running two miles….up hill.
Yeah that's right, UP HILL. How's that for a first run of the season.
Did I mention that I have asthma? Ok so anyway, there I am, standing
outside my apartment in black running shoes, black shorts, and a black
sports shirt. And I'm smoking a cigarette. The picture of the perfect
athlete. Big 'ol beer gut, smoke billowing out of my face, and a
cigarette burn on the side of my shirt. Oh yeah I'm ready to run an
Olympic marathon…the "special Olympics"…maybe. If I compete with that
retorted kid with a peg leg .
Ok, so off I go, with no stretching before hand, and a cigarette in my
mouth, oh if only I knew the horrors that were about to befall me.
Well about half way down the block I chuck the cig. at least. Now for
the first two blocks, I'm fine, then, about halfway past the third
block, I hit the wall. I cant catch my breath, my legs go numb, and my
vision goes blurry. But, being the stubborn idiot I keep on going…I
push on for about two more blocks, and all of a sudden, my chest feels
like its going to explode, so then I finally decide to turn around and
run back. that's right, run. Don't know why I did it, I was thinking
the whole time, slow down ****tard, your gunna pass out in the middle of
the road, and some blind old lady is going to run you over.
So through some miracle, I somehow make it home, and after chugging
about three gallons of water, naturally I run to the bathroom to throw
it all up. After im done spewing, I undress turn on the cold water, and
take a cold shower…now, once I got out and dried off, I went to the
bedroom to get into some dry cloths, I grab some shorts and sit on my
bed to put them on….and pass out cold. So there I am, butt naked, ass
in the air, one leg hanging off the side of the bed, and my face berried
in the pillow.
Now, normally this wouldn't be so bad. I would wake up later, feeling
like crap, put some cloths on, and everything would be fine…but I had
forgotten one very important thing…a friend of mine was coming over that
morning. A female one at that. Now, I had left my radio blaring that
morning when I left, and being in the state I was when I got home, I
didn't really think about turning it off. Well I was still passed out
when she showed up…and when I didn't answer when she knocked…she came
inside looking for me. I'm sure you see where this is going. So
needless to say, I wake up to the sounds of a woman screaming.
Apparently she thought I was dead. Well all I'm thinking about is there
is a women standing in my doorway screaming at the top of her lungs, so
I run over trying to find out what's wrong…and then without taking a
breath, her screams turn to hysterical laughter. And its at this point
that I realize I'm not wearing any cloths…so after I run over to my bed
and pull my sheets around myself, and I finally get her to stop laughing
and leave the room, I put some cloths on and head out to the living
room.
And as I tell her what happened…I put a cigarette in my mouth, and as
I'm about to light it, a little switch clicks on in my head. THIS IS
WHY IM IN THIS SITUATION. So I take a look at the girl I'm with, and
take a look at my cigarette, and I toss that thing out the porch window
like it's a lit stick of dynamite.

(true story...well most of it is. lol)

i would be weary of he use of the word "love", but as for the whole
changing what it says on his profile. Just because he's insecure dosn't
mean hes playing with you, should it have bothered him? no. Should he
have changed it if it did? no. it is possible that he just needs to
work on his obsession with his own image.

Thanks every one for your input, im gunna go sleep on it. night all.

Thanks beachbabe

My feelings havent gotten in the way yet, and i hope they never do. For
varius reasons, we can't ever get together. But want to be able help
her deal with her problems. So i think joshys got it right here.

*because im jealous.

she goes from guy to guy, and they just get worse and worse. And im
afraid if i bring that up, she'll think its just because, jealous.

I've been doing that through her last two relationships, its getting
unbearable.

What do you do when a friend you have feelings for finds out her BEST
freind hooked up with her sorta boyfriend. And she turns to you for
advice? How do you deal with a situation like that?

jed=hillbilly

false teeth=granny

this helicopter is makin me nervous.. ihope there isnt some criminal on
the loose=there after YOU!

chews=gum

mama=llama

not needed=drama

freedom=going commando

hungry=hippos