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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
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.
Black Jack cried out in terror as the column of molten metal fell toward him. Jack knew jack about weaving lava. When it descended toward his hands and attached to the fingertips of the gloves, he stood and started running for the door. Still it climbed the fingers of the gloves, the end of a long strand that connected to the flow on the ceiling. As Jack ran he held his hands above him, little pillars of lava licking down his forearms as he went, creeping toward his exposed shoulders.
With the redcrown shooting blast after blast after him, Jack used one glove to pull off the other, used the bared hand to throw off the first, and then shouldered into the door of the stairwell, slamming it shut behind him.
Which mattered little, as it was reduced to so much slag.
He screamed in pain. The gloves had covered his hands and forearms, but extended only to his elbows. They had managed to keep the lava from actually touching bare skin, but the heat steaming off of them had burned his biceps black.
He’d dropped the satchel with the faeflame vials as he fled. He didn’t care. He could focus only on the pain. He forced himself up the stairs several floors and staggered into a bathroom where he drew water into large sinks and submerged his burns.
Old blacksmith’s trick: get the air away from the burn, not just the heat.
“Jack, you there?” Ser Forty said over the compass.
“Bits of me,” Jack said.
To read the rest, either buy or gift a membership. Sign in to your account here.
Lancelot Schaubert
Lancelot Schaubert authored Bell Hammers, which Publisher’s Weekly called “a hoot.” He edits anthologies and journals; produces albums, films, and photo novels; raises funds, friends, and minds for artists. Learn more here.
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