Ah well, life goes on.

Hello Reader.  Today, I'm in a dull mood.  Grades came back, health's down the toilet, and my final query letter was just returned.  Another no from Barer Literary.  I was actually disappointed with this one.  I was really hoping she would be able to represent me.  Her style is so focused and she has an insane amount of dedication.  I've always tried to be an optimistic person, but today just isn't cutting it.  So I'm going to cut this post off short with an excerpt.

The scene is where Tory and Weller, the two brothers who lead the Cross Mafia Family, are awaiting a new shipment of their laser guns.  They are met with a mysterious person that they know well, who brings them news from the frontlines of the war between the Mags and Howlas.

“Do you want to talk or should I deal with the captain?” Tory was glaring at his brother.

            Weller grunted wearily, “I don’t want to talk.  I don’t even know why you brought me here.” He impatiently checked his watch.

            “You’re here because you are my brother.  We built this empire together, we’re going to run it together.”  Tory looked around the shoreline, his eyes scouring for any passersby.  “If you’re not going to talk, at least control your anger.  You look like you’re about to kill someone.”

            “You, perhaps, for dragging me away from my home.” A wind blew through their coats, brushing their beards.  They stood on the pier for a while, watching the boat navigate its way around a series of jetties.  Seagulls cawed behind them, dropping by their silent figures hoping for something to eat.  When nothing came they flapped away, blaring their cries for food louder.

            When the boat came to dock they walked along the pier to meet the captain.  What met them forced surprise onto Tory’s face.  “What are you doing here?” he growled.

            A Howla, diminutive in stature with more of a mouse’s face than a wolf’s, was shuffling towards the gangsters.  Thick-rimmed glasses adorned his face, an odd trait for someone who could heal his wounds at anytime.  A large cloak covered his body, shabby and dull in color.  He wore a patched hat, loose strings following him as he walked.  His fur was a dark shade of brown, with red streaks flitting in and out of sight as he moved.  His ears were intact and his stomach was absent of any scars.  He was the exact opposite of a Howlian warrior.

            “How are you Tory?  Weller?  I’m glad both of you are here,” the Howla took his hat off and held it against his chest.  “Please, if you will follow me I want to discuss a few things with you before you take these away.”

            Tory flinched slightly when the mysterious Howla had put his arm on him, turning away towards Weller with a look of apprehension filling his eyes. 

            “What do you want from us Harry?  We haven’t done anything wrong.” Weller was bristling as well, his frustration showing in his voice.

            “Not yet,” Harry giggled, a high-pitched wheezing sound that scared the birds in front of them, “No, not yet.  I’m here to make sure you never do.”  He took a few more steps past the docked ship and let his hands clasp in front of him. 

            “Did you know that the Holy Prophet Howlamega has killed the twenty-fifth Magna Beast?”  Harry smiled at the awe in both Tory and Weller’s faces, “I see you have yet to hear the good news.  Well, this death we have finally come upon is momentous, as I am sure you know.” 

            Tory’s look of awe turned to anger, “What does this have to do with us?”

            Harry gave a wry smile, crinkling his face into a terrible mask of conceit, “As the ambassador of the Holy Prophet, it is my duty to tell you of the Rewards that have been placed upon us.  Due to Sulfanen the Lion’s death, we have been given the unique opportunity to build our army without hindrance from the Mags.  Obviously, you understand the implications for your families.”

            Weller’s bristling turned to outright rage.  He grabbed Harry by the throat and lifted him with one hand, “How dare you attempt to use us, just after my son dies?  You want to kill more boys for your war?”

            As Harry struggled, Tory looked on with equal hatred.  Restrained as he was, he also stepped towards the dangling Harry, his body tense.  “We have accepted your help from afar as a business transaction.  Not as a favor.  I don’t give a damn about the Howlamega’s dreams.  Your war is not ours. We’re trying to make a living.”  But Tory’s words were lost upon Harry.  Though his life was slowly being ripped away from him, he was smiling.  His wheezing laugh could be heard through Weller’s grunts of frustration. 

            “Stop laughing!” Weller dug his hands deeper into Harry’s throat, “Stop laughing I said, you conniving bastard.”

            It was to no avail.  Harry continued with his giggling fit, his hands now hanging limp at his sides.  He was doing nothing to stop the attack, nothing to stop his life from escaping him.  Tory’s eyes narrowed when Harry looked to the bow of the ship. “Stop Weller!” Tory pushed Weller’s arm down, forcing him to let Harry go.  “The Howlamega’s here,” Tory whispered into his brother’s ear.  He followed Harry’s dark eyes and saw a wisp of smoke slither away.

            “Good boy Tory.” Clasping his throat tightly as he healed it, Harry grinned.  “You are a fine leader.”  He rose unsteadily before glaring at Weller, “Your brother on the other hand is too wild.  Small wonder that his pup went and killed himself.”  Harry had to step back as Weller made another grab at his throat.

            “Where is he?” Weller’s growl was full of menace, unrestrained hatred lacing his voice.

            “As if you could kill him,” Harry straightened his jacket and put his hat back on.  “Back to the Rewards.  You will, young Tory, have your family be a part of our army.  This is your duty as a Howla, this is your duty as a warrior.  It will not be shirked.”  He glared at Weller, “Knowing your anger however, I am worried.  You must remember that there is always a limit to the Rewards.  We are not allowed to harm the Lion’s family, or the country in which they reside.”

            “How would we know where they live?  We don’t know who the Magna Beast is!”  Tory was in disbelief.  The Howlamega was demanding the world from Howlas a world away.

            Harry remained unfazed, “Make a wild guess Tory, use that magnificent brain of yours.”  He turned around to face the Atlantia coastline, “Why else would we build you up here?”  With that, Harry smiled.  “Be careful with these guns Tory.  And Weller, I am truly sorry that your son died.  Next time, I hope we meet under less strenuous circumstances.”  He tipped his hat to the brothers, and left them in shock. 

Until next time then.