Tap and Die is a 90’s action story full of characters like Jack who use wands and lava gloves and slugs instead of guns on the set of an epic fantasy world. I’m releasing it serially over the course of 6 months — the first 25% is FREE and the rest requires a subscription: if you subscribe for at least 3 months, I will send you a hard copy before the book releases even if you don’t finish the story.


It took the better part of an hour, but knights and some lower weavers and various guards and bowmen arrived. Ser Forty quickly filled in his captain, Tsætɨeœuo˥ɥ. He called the man Captain Tsæt because Æɨeœuoɛ˥ian had too many damnable syllables and vowels in it for quick talk. The Æɨeœuoɛ˥ians liked it that way. Forty did not. He’d once had an Æɨeœuoɛ˥ian conversation about a rainbow appearing over his mother’s coffin with an Æɨeœuoɛ˥ian guest whom he had welcomed into his home for some Ivrian tourism. The story about his mother’s coffin grew difficult immediately, for the Æɨeœuoɛ˥ian word for rainbow was shæɨeœuoɛ˥thæɨeœuoɛ˥ræɨeœuoɛ˥ hwæɨeœuoɛ˥cĥhyæɨeœuoɛ˥ and the Æɨeœuoɛ˥ian word for coffin was ɥæɨeœuoɛ˥ɥæɨeœuoɛ˥g thæɨeœuoɛ˥gæɨeœuoɛ˥thæɨeœuoɛ˥ so rainbow-over-coffin was shæɨeœuoɛ˥thæɨeœuoɛ˥ræɨeœuoɛ˥ hwæɨeœuoɛ˥cĥhyæɨeœuoɛ˥ ɥæɨeœuoɛ˥ɥæɨeœuoɛ˥g thæɨeœuoɛ˥gæɨeœuoɛ˥thæɨeœuoɛ˥ EEESH..

 

 

 

Tap and Die is a 90’s action story full of characters like Jack who use wands and lava gloves and slugs instead of guns on the set of an epic fantasy world. I’m releasing it serially over the course of 6 months — the first 25% is FREE and the rest requires a subscription: if you subscribe for at least 3 months, I will send you a hard copy before the book releases even if you don’t finish the story.


It took the better part of an hour, but knights and some lower weavers and various guards and bowmen arrived. Ser Forty quickly filled in his captain, Tsætɨeœuo˥ɥ. He called the man Captain Tsæt because Æɨeœuoɛ˥ian had too many damnable syllables and vowels in it for quick talk. The Æɨeœuoɛ˥ians liked it that way. Forty did not. He’d once had an Æɨeœuoɛ˥ian conversation about a rainbow appearing over his mother’s coffin with an Æɨeœuoɛ˥ian guest whom he had welcomed into his home for some Ivrian tourism. The story about his mother’s coffin grew difficult immediately, for the Æɨeœuoɛ˥ian word for rainbow was shæɨeœuoɛ˥thæɨeœuoɛ˥ræɨeœuoɛ˥ hwæɨeœuoɛ˥cĥhyæɨeœuoɛ˥ and the Æɨeœuoɛ˥ian word for coffin was ɥæɨeœuoɛ˥ɥæɨeœuoɛ˥g thæɨeœuoɛ˥gæɨeœuoɛ˥thæɨeœuoɛ˥ so rainbow-over-coffin was shæɨeœuoɛ˥thæɨeœuoɛ˥ræɨeœuoɛ˥ hwæɨeœuoɛ˥cĥhyæɨeœuoɛ˥ ɥæɨeœuoɛ˥ɥæɨeœuoɛ˥g thæɨeœuoɛ˥gæɨeœuoɛ˥thæɨeœuoɛ˥ EEESH. It took the better part of five minutes just to set up the story, and by then their coffee had come. 

So he’d long ago learned to call his captain Tsæt. 

When Forty finished, Tsæt scowled. “What kind of screwup is this? I’ll take over.”

“It’s the kind I’m not gonna let you take over, Tsæt. Some really bad dudes in there.”

Tsæt grimaced. He didn’t like Forty’s nickname for him.

 

 

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