Out of Character:
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Prologue
Once it became obvious that a vacation in conflicted Salvar would never be restful, I figured I may as well make some gold and started looking for a job. Almost immediately Lord Volipril offered me a position as a part time agent and full time consultant. The job included room and board as well as a decent salary, so I accepted. Mostly Volipril wanted my advice on security matters, and sent me off on the occasional errand too complex for the average guard. Living within the manor’s walls actually provided the vacation I was looking for—no more paying the rent by joining fight clubs or worrying about bar brawls and back-alley muggers.
I was just starting to get used to living the good life when an unusual incident disrupted my daily workout. It set in motion a chain of events that changed my life.
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"Ahh... another beautiful day in Salvar."
The still air chilled me to the bone.
Motion alone kept the blood from freezing in my veins. I spun like a whirlwind across the permafrost soil, repeating the same kick sequence over and over.
"Inside roundhouse, crescent, spinback roundhouse, crescent, spinback sidekick, stutter step, repeat." My head snapped back and forth, spotting on a single point of the horizon to keep me from falling over. Droplets of sweat jumped from my hair and naked torso, often freezing before they hit the ground. My body worked like a furnace, steamy breath the exhaust which issued from my mouth. To put up with the cold I remained locked in pranic meditation, my senses enhanced to superhuman levels. Each time I stepped the crackle of frost erupted like breaking glass. The cold air felt like fire in my nostrils, like hammering ice picks on my skin. I pushed all the pain aside, focusing on the pleasure of intense exercise. A foreign sound reached my ears. I stopped moving and rotated on the spot, scanning my surroundings.
I stood in the courtyard of Lord Volipril's Manor. His magnificent house made a sprawling centrepiece within the twenty foot stone wall which surrounded it. Small sheds and outbuildings dotted the massive courtyard, most serving as storage for various items not glamorous enough to be kept in the main house. A wooden walkway ran from the manor's doors to the secure iron gates. I knew from experience that two guards stood on the other side of that gate, carefully filtering the entrants to the manor grounds. My keen eyes swept all this, finally lighting on the noise which had caught the attention of my sensitive ears.
A heartbeat. Strong, and rapidly accelerating. A petite serving woman stood just outside a shed, wide blue eyes watching me with a sultry interest I recognized well. Only her face was visible from within the heavy fur cloak she wore, a single strand of blond hair trailing across her rosy cheek. She shifted the wicker basket in her arms to one hip, freeing a delicate pink hand to brush the hair back up into her hood. She paused like that for a moment, then lifted the hand and waved to me, a coy fluttering of fingers. Two thoughts crossed my mind.
"I'd like to see what she looks like without that cloak... or anything else on." Then: "The sweat on the back of my neck is freezing." If I wanted to bed the blond, I needed to work some word magic quickly, before I caught pneumonia, which would reduce my chances to the odds of her being the one to nurse me back to health. I didn't like those odds much.
I opened my mouth, and shattering glass filled the air.
I spun around in time to see a man hit the ground and start running. My eyes jumped to the broken window he had come through just as one of the guards I knew by name poked his head out. Tom was normally a taciturn type, but his eyes bulged in surprise and fear; the broken window led to the mansion's third story. Tom cried out, his voice hoarse in the frigid air.
"Josh! That man stole Volipril's Crest! Stop him!"
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