First three weeks of short stories scheduled!

We want you to find something new on Baeg Tobar every day of the week. Some days it'll be a new half-page of The Torn God; some days it'll be an encyclopedia entry about a person, place, or thing relevant to the world; some days it'll be a new chapter from a novel deeply exploring the ins and outs of the world; and on others it'll be a new short story that relates to something happening in The Torn God.

We'll be releasing one short story every week. Our first three are written, edited, and ready to go:

"No Matter How You Hide Her..." by Alana Joli Abbott describes the local reaction to the appearance of The Torn God's and The Unmade Man's Boruin, Wraethe, and Pile just before the historic confrontation that sets them on their journey.

"Shadevengen" by Mark Adams introduces readers to the Black Queen and an ancient order of Royal Shadows dedicated to the protection of the Imperial family.

"The Black Queen" by Scott Colby (yours truly) expands upon the story of the Black Queen and offers a glimpse at politics in Deos following the death of Emperor Pileaus.

I've got to say, I'm damn proud to be three weeks ahead of the game already. Holes in the early schedule are quickly becoming few and far between. If all works out as planned, we'll soon be an entire two months ahead on short fiction!

Many thanks to all of our hardworking authors. 2009 should be a great year for Baeg Tobar!

Character Art...

Howdy folks!

Well, considering that the last post was an excerpt from one of our short stories, I thought it would be appropriate to post up some artwork next. Below is Boruin, the main character from The Unmade Man by Daniel Tyler Gooden and also the main character in the upcoming webcomic, The Torn God. Artwork by Shannon Potratz.

Short Story Sneak Peek

Here's an excerpt from "Gaius's Tale" by Jeff Limke, a story about what happens to those who cross Emperor Pileaus:

Gaius gripped his stone axe, keeping his knees bent and his back to the wall of the hut as he waited for the command to pounce. He could see his father in the shadows a building away, armed identically. Gaius tried to slow his breathing, but it moved in and out like a winded sprinter’s. His heart pounded so hard he felt it in his head.

Having wiped his clammy palms on his jerkin, Gaius re-gripped his axe. It was deathly sharp but brittle. The weight would compensate if the blade blunted. He had never swung it at a person, but he had killed enough wild deer and feral dogs to know what it could do.

Footsteps skritched the pebbled ground louder with each moment. Gaius’ knuckles whitened on the axe handle. He held his breath. They would not take him easily.

He heard the voice clearly. “Hold!”

Gaius pivoted on one foot. Arms extended, he let the weight of the axe carry his momentum. The blade bit. Blood spattered. Before him, a wide-mouthed soldier screamed.

The soldier fell, still screaming. Armor plates had protected his biceps, but only leather covered his elbow. Gaius pulled the axe free. Half of its edge glistened with blood, the other half clean but chipped. The soldier clutched his spurting wound as two others stepped over him, spears forward.

“I’ve killed him,” Gaius whispered. Ringing filled his ears. Colors faded. He felt weak. The world began to spin. He dropped to his knees and puked. Finally looking up, he found himself face-to-face with a spear point.

“No, he’s just a boy!” His father thrust himself at the spear holder, knocking him aside. “This is his first time with a weapon.” More villagers moved in around Gaius.
Soldiers ran forward, barking orders at the villagers to move or die.

No one moved. Eyes locked on eyes, weapons remained at ready.

Beyond the soldiers, a sharp command cut the air. “Aside.”

Gaius felt soft arms surround him and he recognized the scent of his mother. “He only wanted to protect us.” Gaius relaxed a bit, feeling safer. The world became more vibrant. His mother gripped him tighter. “Please, leave him to us,” she pleaded.

The soldiers parted to make way for a commander in polished bronze armor. “Take Vitus to the physician. Bring this one.”

Soldiers tore Gaius’s mother away. She said nothing, but her eyes glistened.

Heavy hands jerked Gaius upward. Two soldiers grabbed his wrists and lifted so that he straightened his arms. When they let go, he swung his arms forward, but his elbows stopped hard. A spear pole across his lower back prevented them from moving further. Next they bound his wrists in front. A shove and he marched forward. In the distance he saw a litter carried by eight slaves.

Another shove stopped Gaius. The litter rested perhaps twenty paces away. “Give the emperor your respect,” said the soldier to his left.

Gaius shook his head. Had he heard correctly? The emperor? Here? He buckled as a scabbard slapped the back of his knees.

“That means down, fool.”

Gaius lifted his head, but a cuff to the back of it brought a white flash of pain. He kept his gaze on the ground.

“And this boy, he did what again?” The voice, deep and full, commanded attention.
Gaius fought the temptation to look. His head swam in enough pain already.

"He injured Vitus when we arrived. The physician doesn't know if he can save the arm," said the soldier to Gaius's right.

No one spoke. I’ve attacked a member of the Imperial Guard, Gaius thought. The punishment had to be — no.

“Strap him to the post for the night, but do not flog him yet. I would like to think on this before passing judgment.” The deep voice paused. “In the meantime, bring me any heretics who survived the whipping.”

Gaius pressed his eyes together and grimaced as the guards lifted the spear. When he opened them, the litter had passed.