Decided to do a 20 Minute Exercise again. I've found that if I at least have an idea of what I want to cover I can plunk down something I'm not too ashamed of when it's over. While I'm definitely not writing great American literature, it seems that this helps me solidify a tone and some content for the world I'm writing my main project in.
I'm also trying to move away from short pieces where the main conflict relies on an explosion of violence. It's limiting, and some of the best advice I've received is to step outside of my comfort zone.
Again, this is unedited, unrevised, and written in one long stretch. If you have any comments, critiques, or anything else feel free to leave it, but don't feel obligated.
20 Minutes
952 Words
~46 WPM
Suster nudged the boss with his boot. "Hey, time to wake."
The man didn't respond, and Suster tapped him again, harder this time. "It's near sunrise, we're wasting time."
Nothing, still.
A sinking feeling took up a spot in his chest. If the boss had died somehow on the trail they likely wouldn't see any payment for the job at all. The man bent low and shook him by the shoulder. "Boss?"
The man turned over, and the telltale green smudge under his nose showed he wasn't dead, simply a victim of his own addiction.
Anger replaced Suster's concern. "Hey!" he said, louder this time. "You son of a bitch, wake up!"
Miristal approached from nearby. "What's the problem, Sus?" He had difficulty hearing her over the lowing calls of the yoxen grazing nearby.
"The bastard's gone and dipped into his Wax," Suster said, motioning down at the prostrate form.
The taller woman sighed and rested both hands on her hips. In the growing light she looked more disappointed than angry. "Well, drag him to his feet, we'll need to prop him up somehow."
"What's all this?" a third voice asked from nearby. The creak of wagon wheels came from nearby and the drive's quartermaster, Leophan, led the wagon their way. "Did old Eckham finally sink to the Depths?"
"We're not so fortunate," Suster said. He reached down to the man, gripped him under the arms, and hoisted him to a sitting position. The boss groaned, and Suster used a gloved hand to remove the pale green substance from under his nose. "No, it seems our esteemed benefactor has finally succumbed to boredom."
Leophan laughed from his bench. "Ah, yes. Well it was only a matter of time, I guess. It's been, what, over a month on the trail?"
Suster clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. They'd been on the yoxen trail for just a little over a month, leading almost twelve-hundred heads of yoxen from the farms at Crowntown across the Volbrugg provinces to Borderpost, where they'd fetch a far better price than anywhere else within reasonable distance. The scrubland was unbroken monotony, disrupted only by the occasional copse of stunted tree or rocky outcropping.
When Suster had taken the contract he hadn't recognized the name at the header, just the promise of 350 marcs paid on successful delivery. The landscape was in the vast expanse of the Volbrugg furthest from the bickering Lord-Governors towards the center of the region, meaning the only troubles they might encounter would have been brigands or the odd raiding party coming north from Deindall.
So far the only problems had been from their boss himself. He hauled Eckham to his feet, with some help from Miristal, as the man's girth was not insubstantial. "Come on, you old fuck," he muttered, "Time to close this contract so I never have to see you again."
More hoofbeats heralded the approach of the tailguard, and four other mounted contractmen approached. "Are we setting out or having a festival?" one of them asked. Suster hadn't bothered to learn their names; the tailguard were the ones willing to take the cheap work, and weren't usually the type to socialize on the trail.
"Aye, but it seems our dear boss spent a night with your mother, Otmund," Leophan said.
The tailguard's face grew redder than usual inthe morning light, but he said nothing.
"We're setting out soon," Suster said. He lightly patted the boss's face with his hand. "Wake up, you useless sack," he muttered. "You won't be losing me this contract, you hear me?"
The boss's eyelids flickered before they shot open, revealing a pair of bloodshot eyes crazed on Wax. "You will not touch me again!" the man roared, and in a flurry of movement he lashed out against the pair holding him up.
Suster relinquished his grip on the man's arms at the same time as Mirival, and the boss fell to his knees in a heap before struggling again to his feet.
"How dare you!" the man shouted, smoothing out his coat, and patting the dust from the cloth. "Handling me as such is a clear breach of your contract..." the man's anger trailed off as he realized that most of the crew was in witness to his embarrassment, and he quieted, red-faced. "We leave with all due haste."
Suster didn't say anything, but the gaze he exchanged with Mirival said all he needed. The yoxen lowed again in the distance, and the sound seemed all the boss needed to move him towards action.
Twenty-one days had been long enough, Suster thought as he took to his saddle again. The horse he'd been granted for the job was an old, bitter-tempered beast with a nasty habit of biting at his fingers when he readied it for the trail, so he'd taken to leaving most of the animal's gear hanging from its neck overnight.
The remainder of the day was uneventful, for a yoxen drive. The harvest season had seen thicker than usual rainfall, and the final creekbed needing crossing had been higher than expected. Suster had nearly been swept down-river when his horse reared halfway across, but thanks to Leophan and his wagon he'd managed to calm the animal and successfully drive the heard of yoxen across.
Towards mid-day the Old Spire at the center of Borderpost came into view in the distance, though Suster knew it would still be close to dusk by the time they approached the city. To the south the mists which clung to the surface of the Madlands made the horizon a haze, and what little conversation there had been dried up.
That was fine, in Suster's opinion. Other than the occasional midnight dalliance enjoyed between he and Mirival, there really wasn't anyone else in the crew he had any interest in ever seeing again.
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