Thaddeus Nowak's Blog: Thoughts and Observations, page 13

Writing Tip: Keeping positive

In my last writing tips article, I talked about that long slow period you might encounter at a show. This week I wanted to offer some suggestions at how to stay positive if things have gotten you down. I know, that is kind of an odd article to come from me. After all, I coined the phrase:

The glass is not only half-empty, the water is dirty.

By nature, I’m usually more of a realist, not an optimist. However, I have learned how to find the positive in things if I take the time to do so.

With that in mind, here are a few tips that may help you remain positive, be it at an event or anytime you are writing or trying to do get something done.

1. Avoid the trap of worrying about something that has not happened yet

Unless it is inevitable—like being in an out of control car sliding toward the edge of the bridge—things may not turn out as badly as you fear. Which means you don’t want to waste your time now lamenting a tragedy before it has occurred. Do not become paralyzed with fear, instead, use the time to your advantage.

If it is more than just idle fear and things look bleak, you probably still have time to make adjustments. Think of it as an edit or revision in real life. We are writers and fixing our manuscript is something we just do. Look around and try to find a way to edit the situation to make it work in your favor.

Even if it does go badly, use what went wrong as a learning experience. We often learn more from what goes wrong than we ever do from what goes right. Take a step back and distance yourself from the situation and be objective about what went wrong. Then the next time, do something different.

2. Try to get some rest

If you are exhausted, you won’t have the energy to put into staying positive. Staying positive when things make you want to be negative takes energy. If you don’t have anything left to give, that can have a ripple effect into your attitude.

Rest is important for how people perceive you. While you may not be feeling negative, if you are at a show and are standing there (or sitting there) half asleep, you are less likely to draw people over to your table than if you are awake and energized. When a group of individuals with energy come together, they form a feedback loop and everyone tends to get even more energetic. Think of it as a “party effect”.

A person without energy can suck it away from those with it. Yawn in a group of people and watch it spread. If those other people are looking for a party, they will avoid the people making them sleeping.

3. Normally, it’s not personal

Criticism is a part of writing. We seek it out to improve our craft and when we are ready for it, we can steel ourselves against the honest feedback.

Sometimes negative comments come at us when we least expect them and if we are not prepared, it can cut a little too deep. The key is to remember, that most honest feedback is not a personal attack; especially if the feedback is from someone who knows us. In the case of honest feedback, put on your clinical hat and examine the information to see if it is relevant. Even if you are an expert in a given field and know all there is to know, you may not be connecting with your intended audience and those comments can help you make a change that improves your work.

If the comments are intended to be hurtful. Well, I say: “Screw them!” But I only say that in my head and then I move on. You never want to get into an open war with someone, especially not on the internet. First, you will lose. Yes, most certainly you will lose. Internet trolls have the upper hand and while it is not fair, it is the way it is. Second, which is probably the more important, you will burn days or weeks perpetuating the negativity you want to avoid.

Put hurtful feedback in the trash and ignore it. I know easier said than done, but do it for yourself.

4. Change your music

For me, music can have a big impact on my mood.  If I am in a particular frame of mind, I can listen to certain playlists and amplify the effect.  When I am in a foul mood, I call it “putting on R.E.M. for a pick-me-up.” I do enjoy R.E.M. and if I am writing certain scenes, I will put on something like Everybody hurts to get in the right frame of mind.

However, if I am feeling a bit negative and don’t want to be, I’ll pick a playlist with songs that are full of energy. It will be something that makes me want to get up and dance. when it is something that moves my blood, before long I will feel my energy return. As I mention above, if you lack energy, it is hard to be positive, but I have found it is also hard to be negative when you are full of energy.

At a show, you can’t really put on some headphones and disappear, but hum a tune in your head and try to move about. If it is slow, take a quick walk around the floor and get some life back in your body. It will help.

5. Pretend to be positive

Finally for this article, a while back I reported on an a TED talk done by Amy Cuddy that said your body language shapes who you are.  In this talk, she described how pretending to be confident actually translated into becoming confident.  If you carry yourself in a confident manner, others will react as though you are confident and eventually, you will just be confident.  The talk is a good one and I really like her “fake it until you become it” message.

I would say the same techniques can apply to giving you a positive attitude. Behaviour tends to be learned responses and if we pretend to be positive (including the body language cues), others will treat us as though we are, and we will eventually just be more positive.

 

Will I ever completely abandon my realism for pure optimism? No. That would not be me. However, I have come to realize, that excessive negativity only hurts myself and if I will not look out for myself, who will? We each have to be our own best advocates and do what it takes to achieve our goals in life. Projecting a positive attitude is one of those things that can help.

The post Writing Tip: Keeping positive appeared first on Thaddeus Nowak.

Upcoming Events

An old friend

It is with a great deal of sadness that I have to say I will not be at the KC Ren Fest this year as a vendor. Over the last few years, I have been helping out Samantha in her booth at the Faire and as part of that, I had tucked my books into a corner for people to buy.

The change this year is because Samantha has moved to Texas. In doing so, she has sold her both at Faire. Alas, I no longer have a place out there to spend my time (and offer my books for sale).

I do intend to come out as a patron at least once or twice. I’ve made an appearance at that Ren Fest every year for a couple of decades, so the year just wouldn’t be right if I missed the Faire entirely. Plus, I have too many people I need to visit with for a while, even if I won’t make it out there most weekends, I’ll make it out a couple of times.

 

However, all is not lost. If you are interested in picking up the latest book or just chatting with me, I have two more upcoming events on the calendar this year and I will be doing several events next year (both of the local Comic Cons as well as Smallville).

We Are Still Batman at Elite Comics

William at Elite Comics is always a great guy and a wonderful person. He loves to help out artist, authors, and creators and invites them to his big parties. On 26 Sep 2015, from 10 am to 6 pm, he’s having another big event with food, entertainment, lots of creators, and of course comics. Don’t miss the We Are Still Batman event!

Even if you are not into comics, come out and have some fun.  It is an easy way to get a taste of Comic Con without having to buy a ticket.

Lansing’s Fall Festival and Craft Show

This year Lansing has changed the name of the show from Autumn in the Grove.  They don’t have much up yet on a website, but the event is on 10 Oct 2015 and starts at 10 am and goes until 5 pm. This year, they plan to have it at Angle Falls Trail, which is located behind St. Francis de Sales Church. I’ll update this page with links if they get a webpage posted.

One of your favorite locations?

If there is someplace you really want to see me attend, let me know and I’ll try to work it into my schedule. No guarantees, but I have added a couple events I now do regularly because someone suggested it.

The post Upcoming Events appeared first on Thaddeus Nowak.

Movie Review: The Man From U.N.C.L.E

This weekend I saw The Man From U.N.C.L.E, which stars Henry Cavill (as Solo), Armie Hammer (as Illya), and Alicia Vikander (as Gaby).

The story is set in the 1960’s with a backdrop of the cold war and the threat of nuclear weapons spreading. It involves a number of European settings and plenty of action. I must say I have been itching for a classic spy movie (I was planning to get out my Get Smart DVD collection) and this movie fit the bill for me. It was not overly gadget-heavy, but there were some boxy tools they pulled out from time to time and I liked the break from the micro-sized batbelt with everything you need.

I found the settings well done and I didn’t see anything jumping out as being out of place (though I was not watching for that explicitly). The streets were filled with old cars and I even wondered how they had managed to round-up all of them. With computers these days, they could have easily been CG, but if it was, I didn’t notice.

The movie is tied into the old 1964-68 television series with the same name. It is reported that Ian Fleming contributed to the concepts in the original series and if you want some additional details, check out the Wikipedia article on it.

The main focus of the movie, and the series, is a pairing of Solo (an American spy) with Illya (a Soviet spy). While they are ordered to work together, there is still the underlying issues of national pride and competing governments.

Overall, I found the movie well done and would recommend seeing it.  I give it 4 out of 5 stars.

The post Movie Review: The Man From U.N.C.L.E appeared first on Thaddeus Nowak.

Owin #54 — Gathering their things

Check out the start of the series.

Photo ©Depositphotos.com / Oleksandr Minyaylo

Owin led Gwen back across Solva to the room Denton’s people had secured for them. The overcast sky blocked the Mother Moon’s light, leaving them to traverse several sections of the city in near-total darkness. However, as normal, the street lamps near their room were lit.

Grabbing a clump of dry grasses from where the weeds had grown next to a building, Owin twisted them several times to create a tight bundle. Holding the grasses firmly, he lit them from the closest lamp and then being careful to shield the flame with his hand, he followed Gwen into the boarding house and down the hall toward their door.

“Wait,” he whispered to Gwen as they passed the stairs leading to the second floor. With a quick breath, he blew out the flame that was slowly consuming the bundle of grasses. With the fire extinguished, the glow of light from under their door became more obvious. He tossed the smoldering grasses to the floor and then stepped on them to put out the embers.

Without the flame in his hands, the hall was too dark to see Gwen’s face, but he could hear the changing of her breathing. “Be ready,” he whispered as he pulled a dagger from his sheath and flipped the blade up against his forearm so he could conceal the weapon in his hand.

At the door, he used his left hand to fumble with the key. It took a moment to find the keyhole and unlock the door. There was no way to hide their coming, so Owin decided to play ignorant to those in the room. “Oil costs us money. You need to be more careful not to leave the lamp lit,” he said as he pushed open the door.

“Sorry, Owin,” Gwen said.

Owin thought her words sounded a touched forced, but he did not know if anyone else would notice. He paused a moment longer, allowing his eyes to adjust before stepping into the room, though he had already seen the forms of two men next to their bed.

“Where’ve you been?” came Brent’s voice.

Owin jump back a step, keeping Gwen in the hall and shielding her with his body. He feigned looking around the room and blinking his eyes. “Brent, what are you doing in my room?”

Their contact took a step forward. “It is our room, we are just letting you use it. So, where’ve you been?”

The second man, who had dark hair and wore leather armor, followed a step behind Brent. Owin did not miss the fact that the man had a sword buckled at his waist or the licking of his lips.

Owin shrugged. “We have to eat. We have to plan. We have to make arrangements.”

“Why don’t you both come in here and out of the hall,” Brent offer as a statement and not a question. “We don’t want people to hear our conversation.”

Owin stepped forward just enough to let Gwen come into the room and shut the door. “You can’t expect us to succeed at this without prep, can you?”

Brent shook his head. “The Ambassador arrived today, but they’ve changed the location of the meeting.” Brent narrowed his eyes. “It doesn’t look like she’s all that surprised about that. What have you been doing?”

Owin did not like Brent’s tone and the dark-haired man in the leather armor continued to lick his lips in what Owin could only call anticipation. “We had equipment to purchase.”

Brent shook his head. “I can’t have you acting rogue. Until you do the job you’ve been hired to do, I think we’ll keep Gwen somewhere else as insurance that you don’t decide to do something stupid.”

The armored man stepped toward Gwen, which caused Owin to step forward with his left hand held out before him. “Now wait a minute, Brent. Let’s talk about this for a moment.”

Brent moved forward quickly to step ahead of the armored man and put himself in Owin’s face. “You’ve been up to somethin–”

Owin’s right hand lashed out like a snake striking a target.  The pommel of his dagger struck the side of Brent’s head.  Owin’s left hand struck a moment later; the heel of Owin’s palm crashing squarely into Brent’s chest.

The strength and suddenness of the attack staggered Brent and he had started to fall before the dark-haired man could move.  As Owin turned his focus, the man in armor started to draw his sword. Owin closed the distant before the blade had made it halfway out of the scabbard. Still using the pommel of the dagger, Owin swung his right hand at the man’s face, while he used his left hand and his body to keep the man’s sword in its scabbard.

The blow hit the dark-haired man’s temple and the man turned to try to get room to draw his weapon. Seeing an opening, Owin kicked the back of the armored man’s knee as the man turned away.  A loud pop filled the air before the man cried out as he fell to his knees.  Owin did not wait for the man to recover. From behind, Owin struck again with the dagger’s pommel, connecting with the back of the man’s head.

Spinning around, Owin saw Brent struggling to get to his feet. Using his momentum, Owin stuck Brent in the face with his right foot.  The blow instantly sent Brent back to the to the floor.

Owin continued turning. The armored man was splayed across the floor and now as silent as Brent, but not trusting the man to be unconscious, Owin stepped closer, grabbed a handful of hair on the back of his head and smashed his face into the floor twice before releasing his grip.

“Gwen, get the money from under the bed and gather our things.” Owin knelt down and cut away the man’s sword belt as Gwen leaped into action. “Toss me the blanket,” he called out to her as she started to drag the bed.

She quickly threw the worn wool blanket at Owin and then continued to move the bed. “Are they still alive?” she asked quietly.

Owin nodded his head as he started to cut strips from the blanket. “If we killed them, Denton would take serious issue with us, even if it was in our own defense. Bruised and tied up they will heal and we won’t have made any long-term foul. I just hope we’ve found Urel and can complete the job we were asked to do, not the one they wanted to set us up to take the fall for.”

 

The post Owin #54 — Gathering their things appeared first on Thaddeus Nowak.

Writers: That long slow period – writing tips

We’ve all been there: we’re at the Con or the show or some event and for whatever reason things are just going slow. Perhaps we’ve talked to a number of people, maybe not. However, we just aren’t making the sales numbers we want.

When that happens, my advice is: Stay Positive!

It happens. Every show or event has ebbs and flows. People start the day looking around, perhaps they are waiting to make their purchases because they don’t want to carry things all day. Perhaps the bulk of the crowd is hearing an excellent panel and so the floor is nearly empty. You see that group you know will be interested, but something else catches their attention just before they reach your table and now they are heading the other way. You have something to say and you know people will want to hear it, if only they will stop and listen!

The key is to not let it bother you. Don’t take it personally. Doing that can be hard; sometimes very hard. You’re putting in a lot of time and energy and it is natural to want everything to go well the whole time. But I want to warn you that the last thing you want to do is broadcast a negative vibe. Once that happens, you will just compound your problem. People come to the shows to have fun. They want to interact with fun and exciting people. They do not want to stand and hear sales pitches from unhappy artists and creators.

If you give the people time, they will come back around, and while you wait, other people may stop by. Be there. Be willing to talk. And continue to have fun, even when you want to hang your head and cry.  Because, if you can, your chances of having an enjoyable and productive experience will be all the more likely. If you let despair take you, not only will you have a terrible time, but likely, you’ll lose some sales you otherwise would not have.

Overall, I would say everyone in my aisle a KC Comic Con this last weekend appeared to stay positive and upbeat, which was great, as it helps make the Con an enjoyable experience for everyone. However, I have seen it before at other shows and could easily see the results. Don’t let the slow periods drag you down. Keep upbeat and be observant. If someone else is doing well and you’ve got nothing going on, watch them and see if they are doing something different that might also work for you.

The post Writers: That long slow period – writing tips appeared first on Thaddeus Nowak.

Owin #53 — Next steps

Check out the start of the series.

Photo ©Depositphotos.com / Oleksandr Minyaylo

Owin watched the run down shop for a while after the lamp had been turned down or moved to a room that blocked its light from the boarded up windows overlooking the street. Who are you and who are you working for? He wondered again. His trouble to answer the question continued to be that there were too many players involved. His first thought had been that the Steward had hoped their guard would be down and had decided to use Gwen’s second meeting as a means to find out where she was staying. If that had been the case, I would have expected the watchers to report to the Steward, not end up across town in that dump.

He sighed as he slowly moved to his feet.  The planter he had squatted next to had seemed to provide enough cover, but he did not want to remain there too long.  As he moved he reconsidered Denton’s men as the potential watchers.  If they had grown suspicious of our activities, he might send some people to watch. But then they would not likely accept Gwen simply going into the boarding house.  They would know where we are staying.

Owin walked away from the old shop and used the next intersection to loop back around so he could head back toward Gwen. The thought that he might have found where Urel had secured himself gave him both hope and pause. “Those two men were muscle,” he mumbled aloud.  How many more might Urel have? And then there is Urel. While Owin felt confident enough to handle the two men, he did not want to take them on together unless there was no other choice. But would Urel have actually used them to do his scouting?  They did not appear to be very practiced in the art of tracking.

Owin frowned.  The only way to know for certain who they were and who they met was to get into the shop, but the fear that these men might have been used to lead him away from Gwen rose in his thoughts.  Do I have to second-guess absolutely everything?  He demanded of himself.

Not able to push the concern from his mind, he quickened his pace.  The time to follow and watch the men had grown longer than he had intended, and to compensate, he was nearly jogging by the time he reached the area of the boarding house.  At the door, he paused just enough to make sure there was no one in the immediate area, and then slipped inside the building.  He walked quietly down the dark hallway, forcing himself to slow his breathing. Halfway down the hallway, he stopped at the back of the stairs leading to the second floor.

“Gwen?” he called softly.

Movement under the stairs flashed in the dark and then Gwen emerged from where she had been hiding. “Are we safe?”

Owin nodded his head, but neither of them would be able to see it. “For now. You had two people following you. I followed them to a rundown shop on the other side of the city. I’m not sure who they were working for, but they are not skilled at trailing people. I’d guess their normal job is hurting people.”

“Great,” she whispered; the slight tremble in her voice betrayed the calm Owin imagined she tried to project. “Lord Tarrin, the ambassador arrived today. The good news is that the Steward has managed to get Lord Natheniel to move the meeting.”

“Let’s get back to our room and get some rest. In the morning, we need to try to find a way to the meeting location.  After that, I need to investigate this shop.”

“We won’t be able to be part of the meeting,” Gwen whispered as they walked toward the front door. “They have moved it to Duchess Emilia’s manor house and we are not invited. Only the most trusted of Duke Henry’s men and the ambassador’s men will be there.”

Owin nodded his head as they exited the boarding house. “Well, that saves us from getting blamed if it goes down there, but Urel may change his tactics.” Owin wiped his brow; he needed to get some rest, but time was running out. “I’m going to have to investigate that shop tonight and see if that is him.”

“Do you want me to come with?”

Owin turned his head to look at Gwen as they walked down the street. Her face held more than a trace of hope he would ask her to do just that. “It won’t be safe.”

“And what if you get hurt? Should I just wait for Denton’s men to come and deal with me?”

“Gwen, you know–”

“You need my help,” Gwen demanded. “I might not be able to fight, but I might be able to do something else.”

Reluctantly Owin nodded his head. “I don’t know what might be in that shop. You’ll have to do exactly as I say.”

“Thank you.”

Owin could tell it was fear of being left alone that drove her desire to be there. He understood it, even if he would rather she stayed away. “First, we need to go get the rest of our weapons. Then we need to very carefully check out the shop.”

 

The post Owin #53 — Next steps appeared first on Thaddeus Nowak.

Owin #52 — Another player in the game?

Check out the start of the series.

Photo ©Depositphotos.com / Oleksandr Minyaylo

Owin had watched Gwen wait near the statue in Patrick Square for several turns of the glass, but her contact had not come. Eventually, she followed Owin’s instructions and went to a series of public houses to sit and wait the rest of the day away in relative safety. It ate at him, but Owin had been unable to sit with her and keep her safe. Just too many other things to do, he told himself.

Owin forced a laugh. His attention had wondered again when another pair of people entered Iesa’s Public House and he missed the fact that the man to his left had played a knight and a squire in the last round. “My luck is just not what it normally is,” he said as he put his cards face down on the table. At this rate, I really don’t have to pretend to lose.

“Your luck seems perfectly good to me,” said the oily-haired man sitting across from him.

Owin smiled and shrugged. He knew little about the three men he was gambling with. They had simply been a convenient group to offer him cover. “You’ll have to take it easy on me or you’ll run me out of money.”

“I think that’s the idea,” the man on his left said quietly.

Owin did not bother to reply. He had won one hand earlier and since then had only lost a third of a silver crown of his own money. The other nice thing about this group it that they were keeping the bets pretty low.

Owin glanced over the oily man’s shoulder again and used the man’s turn to deal as an excuse to watch a pair of men enter the building. He saw a subtle brushing of shoulders that would have caused two strangers to at least look at each other. These men did not acknowledge the contact and simply went in separate directions. One strolled to the bar with an easy gate. The second man, shorter than the first, moved to a table where he could watch the first man and the door.

Owin glanced at his mug. He had left it mostly empty for the last three hands. Now he picked it up and finished off the last of the ale. Lifting the mug, he signaled for a waitress near the bar to refill the beverage. In the process, he took note of the taller, dark-haired man and the small weapons he carried. Owin saw at least two knives on his belt as well as a short, single-handed sword. A slight bulge under his shirt made Owin think the man likely had at least one more dagger concealed on his person.

“That’s a dancer to you,” the man on Owin’s right said, drawing his attention back to the game. Owin had not recognized either man who had come into the public house, but both looked like hired muscle and both turned to watched as Gwen entered the public house.

Owin lifted his cards with his right hand, glancing at their contents while he turned to the waitress, who was walking toward their table with his ale. The man at the bar pretended to continue watching the door as Gwen passed him on her way to the far end of the bar where the Steward’s contact had been waiting long enough to finish a mug of ale. However, after she passed his position, the tall man turned his head to get a solid look at her back before he turned his focus away from her.

“Thank you,” Owin said to the young woman with his ale as he slipped her a couple of coins. Quickly taking a card from his hand, he put in down over the dancer and turned to the man on his left as the man on his right groaned in disgust; Owin intended to win this hand and put some money back into his pouch.  If I can’t take it out on the Steward, these men will do.

After a couple more chances to bet and to the play the cards remaining in his hand, Owin finished with a smile he forced to his face. Through a bit of deception and careful choices on the order of the cards, he won back enough to break even from the afternoon’s activities with that one hand.

“Your luck is changing,” the oily man said.

Owin shrugged.  Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Gwen looked as though she would soon be wrapping up her conversation.  Having already palmed a third of the coins he won, Owin glanced at what was left on the table. “Well, I need to get home to my wife. She’ll be pissed that I lost as much as I have,” he lied, “but if I use the rest to buy her some sweetmeats, she might not notice.”

Owin stood before the men could protest, snatched the remaining coins from the table, and quickly headed toward the door.  On the way out, he turned his head toward an attractive woman, leaving no doubt for anyone in the room where his attention had fallen. Once out the open door, he turned sharply to the right and continued past any open windows until no one inside the public house would be able to see him.

Clear of observation, he quickly crossed the street, ducked down a side alley, squatted down behind a rain barrel, and waited. Come on Gwen, don’t take too long. He bit his lower lip and shifted his feet slightly to keep the pressure off his ankles. His leaving early would be a signal to her that she had a watcher. Now, is it the Steward, some of Denton’s men, Duke Henry’s men, or someone else? Owin had no way to know for certain. At least not yet.

A group of three well-dressed men passed the alley on the near side of the street. Their lively conversation indicated a bit of drink had already been consumed.  Once they were gone, it was several long moments before he saw Gwen walk past the front of the alley on the far side of the street. Owin waited a little longer and as he expected one of the men followed a short distance behind her.  He waited some more and then after the count of ten, the taller man followed as well.

Counting to ten again, Owin rose to his feet went back to the street. He hoped Gwen would not panic. He did not doubt her bravery, but the idea of being alone with unknown threats would make even an experienced man nervous.

On the street, he saw several people moving in both directions. Gwen had moved quickly and was already even with the group of men Owin had noticed earlier. The two men who were following her were keeping pace, but held back and retained their separation.

Without looking behind herself, Gwen crossed the street just ahead of the three young men. Owin worked to match her pace, hoping the other people on the street would conceal his presence from the men tailing Gwen.

After two more blocks, Gwen stopped and walked up the steps of a boarding house that Owin had identified previously. Owin had reconfirmed the door had been unlocked during the afternoon and importantly, the building held a long hall where Gwen could hide.  Even more importantly, a small open-front public house sat only three buildings down. As Gwen entered the door of the boarding house, Owin sat at an open table. The two men who had been following her were trapped between them with no obvious place to stop. However, the first one did stop and waited the second man join him.  The two of them chatted for several moments while they watched the door of the boarding house.

Owin ordered ale and kept his attention turned directly across the street. With his peripheral vision, he would notice if they moved, but neither of the men should notice his attention.

Quicker than he expected, the two men continued walking down the street. They now moved with purpose and Owin had to rise from the table before his ale arrived. He left a few coins on the table in the hope the waitress would not call out in complaint.

Taking even more care to avoid being noticed, Owin continued to follow the men. So engrossed in their quiet conversation, neither man appeared to notice Owin as they made their way across the town and into a rundown shop with boards over the windows. From the light leaking through the gaps in the boards, Owin guessed there was already someone inside the three-story building with a lamp.

Finding a nook next to a flower planter down the street, Owin sat down and pulled his knees to his chest to minimize his silhouette, and unlike these men, Owin remained vigilant for some time, waiting until night had fully settled in and the lamp inside the building was turned down. No one else came or went while he watched.

So who are you and what is your game?

 

The post Owin #52 — Another player in the game? appeared first on Thaddeus Nowak.

Owin #51 — Misdirection

Check out the start of the series.

Photo ©Depositphotos.com / Oleksandr Minyaylo

Gwen rubbed her face with her hand, but her eyes were still heavy. She had always imagined Owin’s life had been full of adventures and excitement. The afternoon of sitting in public places and pretending to be doing something legitimate had destroyed her motivation to even walk down the street. How can anyone stand to just sit like that for so long?

She knew the importance of the waiting some place safe, but it had not been the first time on the journey that she had to occupy herself with doing nothing. “I hope this messenger is there, or this day will be for nothing,” she mumbled to herself as she walked under a street lamp.

Under Owin’s direction, she had passed by Iesa’s Public House three times earlier in the day. The two-story building sat in a location where three major roads converged and Owin wanted her to have taken each road at least once. From that earlier exploration, she knew the building to be located in a relatively safe, if not also expenses, part of the city.

Moving around a small group of well-dressed men who had gathered on the edge of the street to talk, Gwen walked in through the open door that led into Iesa’s main room. The smell of smoke and alcohol filled the room, but the dimly lit room remained a place of calm discussions and dining. All but one of the nearly two dozen tables that filled the large room had someone sitting at it.  Most of the tables had multiple people around them and several of those were the focus of games of chance.

Gwen had looked inside the pub earlier in the day, but the level of patronage at that time had been much lower. Now, half a dozen young women carried drinks and plates of food between the tables and they appeared barely able to keep up with the requests.

“Excuse me,” a man said from behind her and Gwen stepped aside to allow a pair of men to enter. She watched as they headed over to a table which already had four people sitting around it. The jovial greetings told her it was a regular gathering for that group.

Not wanting to draw too much attention, she started to slowly make her way over to the tall bar that sat against the wall to her right. She forced her eyes to look through the hazy room at the men standing against the bar, hoping to see someone in a green shirt and a red cap. As she looked, she thought that perhaps the Steward had changed his mind. However, one man standing at the far end of the bar moved to get the barman’s attention and she saw someone standing behind the first that fit the Steward’s description.

Don’t rush directly to your contact, she told herself, using Owin’s voice in her head. Watch for others watching the contact first. She felt her heart racing as she started second-guessing the decision to go through with the meeting and her ability to do what needed to be done.

Gwen stopped at the middle of the bar and squeezed between two men. “An ale,” she said as the barman walked past her, repeating what someone else had just requested. A few moments later, she slid half of a small silver coin across the bar and received a mug. She took a sip of the warm and bitter beverage and then turned around to face the room.

She pretended to take another drink, but only let the warm liquid rest against her lip as she looked around at the tables. She wanted to see Owin, but he was not sitting at any of the tables with a single person. Should I approach the contact if Owin’s not here? She knew the danger of being on her own and the thought made her knees tremble.

In her looking, she did notice another man sitting at a table close to the man in the red cap. This man kept looking over to where her contact stood and then back to the door. Because of the angle of his chair, the glance toward her contact did not seem natural and once he had made the glance for the fourth time, Gwen decided this was someone interested in the pending conversation. Damn, I wanted the Steward to help us.

She bit her lip and looked around the room one more time. This time a laugh caught her attention and she noticed Owin sitting at a table in the middle of the room. Four other men sat around the same table and they were all playing a card game. She chuckled to herself and pretended to take another drink of the ale. Knowing Owin was in the room with her removed a weight from her shoulders and she knew she had to go through with the meeting one way or the other.

With the mug in hand, she moved a step away from the bar and headed toward her contact without looking at the man whom she suspected was a watcher. The man in the red cap spotted her as she grew close and he took a step back to make room for her.

“Hello,” Gwen said softly to the man who was barely taller than herself. “Do you have a message for me?”

“Whose message are you waiting for?”

“The Steward,” she responded. When the man simply raised his eyebrows, Gwen added. “Renald.”

The man nodded his head and then glanced around Gwen to see if anyone else was coming. “Just you?”

“Yes,” she replied immediately. “You?”

The man smiled. “Don’t think to try anything with me. I’ve got someone watching my back.”

Gwen put the mug on the bar with her right hand and then crossed her arms. “I’m trying to help. I’m not here to take advantage of anyone.”

The man frowned. “Well, be that as it may, you should be on your best behavior.”

“Is he going to help or not?” Gwen demanded, growing tired of everyone’s apparent desire to throw around threats.

“Yes,” the man said as he pulled his red cap from his head. “The Steward has already sent a message to the local party involved and it is quite likely the location of the meeting will change.”

“Can you tell me where it will be?” Gwen asked, hope filling her at the same time she wondered what the removal of the cap might signal.

“We do not have the details yet. But the Steward will be able to inform you as soon as he learns where the location will move. Do you have a place in mind where I can have a message sent to you?”

Gwen pursed her lips. “Waiting until the end of the day will waste too much time. If he has news, I will meet you at the statue in Patrick Square tomorrow at midday. If you don’t show, I will meet you here tomorrow evening.”

The man nodded his head. “Good enough.”

Gwen turned away from the bar and made her way toward the exit, but she took a longer route across the room, passing close to the table where the men who had come in after her had taken their seats. She bumped into one of the men, not causing a scene, but she hit him with enough force to be required to apologize.

Without further delay, she made her way out the front door with a grin on her face. Hopefully, Owin will like that misdirection.

 

The post Owin #51 — Misdirection appeared first on Thaddeus Nowak.

Owin #50 — The Life of a Thief

Check out the start of the series.

Photo ©Depositphotos.com / Oleksandr Minyaylo

Gwen looked over her shoulder again as she passed by the other people on the streets.  She did not see anyone that appeared to be following her, but the crowds had growth thicker over the course of the morning.

Looking up at the street sign, she continued past the intersection and forced herself to slow down.  She did not want to draw attention to herself, but as she glanced at the people she passed, she realized that hardly anyone paid her any attention.  It took a moment before she understood the difference, but disguised as a male servant instead of being a young woman, far fewer people seemed to even notice she existed.

No longer worried so much about drawing attention to herself, she continued toward The Carriage House, the first of three public houses where she might wait for Owin to approach her.  However, as she walked, another concern filled her thoughts.  Their initial plan had been to lose anyone whom the Steward might send to follow her.  It had been assumed someone would follow her and both she and Owin both wanted to keep anyone else from knowing where they were staying.  But that was before the man promised he would not send anyone to follow me.  If he betrays that trust, can we trust him to do anything else for us?  So, should I try to lose anyone or let them follow so Owin can see them? The question worried her because she did not know what she wanted more.  If someone did follow her, at least they would know where they stood with the Steward.  If no one follows, then we don’t know if he will betray us later or not.  I wish I could ask Owin what to do?  Knowing that was not possible, she decided to keep her pace slow and risk someone tailing her to the public house.  I could always try to lose them later.

After a couple more blocks, she stopped in front of The Carriage House. The front door and windows were open to let out the summer heat. After a moment, her eyes adjusted to the darkened room and she could see a nearly empty public room filled with many tables and chairs.  She noticed only one group of men around a single table.  Of Owin, there was no sign.  However, not expecting him to be ahead of her, she walked inside and moved toward the back of the building.  The five patrons glanced in her direction, but their attention did not linger.

Picking a chair that placed her back against the wall, she turned her attention to the open door and windows.  Owin had said that someone following her would have to take a moment to look inside before they would be able to see her in the darker room.  In doing that, they would make themselves obvious.  She gave a half-hearted shrug.  It had taken her a moment to be able to see inside, but she was not sure if she would notice anyone watching her or not.

So intent on watching the door, Gwen did not notice the barmaid approach her table.  Startled, she took a moment to realize what question she had been asked. “Sorry, yes, I’ll take an ale,” Gwen said.

Once the woman left to fetch her drink and Gwen tried to relax and look natural.  She lean back in the chair, then crossed her legs before realizing she had not done it as a man would.  She leaned back again, but ended up fidgeting with her dress coat.

A giggle to her left brought Gwen’s attention back to the barmaid, who set a mug of ale on the table. “If you’re slacking on your job, your master is not likely to know unless you get so drunk you can’t walk straight.”

Gwen looked up at the young woman’s smiling face and swallowed. The woman has to know I am not a man, right? Not trusting her voice to hold the illusion, she grabbed the mug from the table and took a deep drink.

The woman shook her head.  “You don’t have to guzzle your drink to impress all women.  Let’s be honest, you may not be the handsome type, but you look to have a respectable job. That speaks well of you.”

Gwen searched for something to say as the barmaid smiled again.

“Ma’am,” Owin’s deep voice came from Gwen’s other side. “I’ll take an ale as well. My friend and I have some business to discuss.”

The barmaid stood straighter and nodded her head before she left for the kitchen.

“Where’d you come from?” Gwen asked.

“I came in the back,” Owin said, nodding his head toward the door set in the back wall. “There’s a privy and another room back there for dining.” He scooted a chair around to sit next to her. “Not a bad location to pick. I didn’t see anyone following you. Anyone come in after you?”

Gwen shook her head. “No. But….”

“What is it?”

She swallowed another mouth full of ale. The bitter liquid warmed her stomach. “I couldn’t get in to see Lord Walis, but I spoke with the Steward of the house. A Renald that said he’s got as much, or perhaps more, influence in the city as Walis. He reports directly to Duchess Emilia.”

She watched Owin nod his head. “It was always a chance that we would not get to the Lord. What did the Steward say?”

“He wasn’t sure he trusted what I told him. He wants to verify it.”

Owin frowned. “That could cause people to discover what we’re up to.”

Gwen nodded her head. “I didn’t know what else to do.”

“You did fine. Will he help us?”

Gwen shrugged. “He wants us to meet someone at a pub tonight.” She bit her lip as she looked into the distance. “It’s near Patrick Square. Iesa’s Public House,” she added after a moment. “I was afraid I’d forget the name.”

Owin shifted to his right slightly. “What does he want with us there?”

“He didn’t trust me entirely, but he felt what I said was credible enough that he had to check it out. He wanted me to tell him where we were staying, but I refused. So we agreed he’d make his decision and we’d meet at the public house. There will be a man with a green shirt and a red cap waiting after dark with further instructions.”

Owin leaned closer. “Damn.”

“I’m sorry, Owin.”

“No, Gwen, really, you did fine. I just don’t know if we can trust meeting this person. It might be a trap.”  He shrugged.  “I don’t know. It all depends on what kind of man this Steward is, what he learns of the plot from his sources, what he thinks of you, and if there might be any way to turn the odds in his favor–or his Duchess’s favor–by betraying us.”

Gwen nodded her head and opened her mouth, but said nothing.

“What is it?”

She picked up the mug and took another sip. “I don’t know. I’m probably not the best judge of people, but I felt like we could trust him.”

Owin did not respond immediately as the barmaid returned with his drink. Once she left, he took a drink and set the mug down. “Gwen, I trust your instincts. You’re probably a better judge of people than you know.”

She could not help but smile. However, doubt continued to eat at her. “What if I’m wrong?”

“Well, I think the best option is that we leave here separately. We’ll avoid each other for the rest of the day. Find someplace to lay low. Perhaps you can go to the market or just sit in Patrick Square and wait. Then go into the pub and meet this contact. Find out what your Steward has agreed to. If it is safe, I’ll join you, if not, I’ll make sure you can get away.”

Gwen sighed. “Great, sitting and doing nothing for a whole day.”

Owin patted her arm. “The exciting life of a thief.  If that’s want you still plan to do with yourself once we are done here, you’ll need to get used to it.”

 

The post Owin #50 — The Life of a Thief appeared first on Thaddeus Nowak.

Owin #49 — Message delivered

Check out the start of the series.

Photo ©Depositphotos.com / Oleksandr Minyaylo

Gwen stood before the Steward’s oak desk as the old man moved around the aged furniture and took his seat. While one chair sat off to her left, she had not been given leave to sit and she had no desire to anger the man.

“We are now free from prying ears. What is your name and what plot are you hoping to sell to me today?”

Gwen could see a history of irritation in the man’s face. “Sir. My name is Gwen, but I am not hoping to sell you anything. I was hoping your lord might be able to help.” She pursed her lips. Owin feared the assassins could have put other people into the household to keep an eye on Lord Walis. She glanced behind the man at the various objects scattered around the room. The variety and depth of the knickknacks on the desk and shelves spoke of a long tenure. The large painting on the wall behind him was of a younger man with a strong family resemblance. Okay, I’ll take the risk. “There are many people trying to do a lot of things to each other and none of them are nice. A friend of mine–perhaps even more of a father to me–has been blackmailed into trying to stop the assassination of the Uvarian Ambassador and Lord Natheniel.”

Gwen stopped as the Steward’s eyes narrowed. For a moment, she thought he might attack her, but then he nodded his head ever so slightly for her to continue.

Please don’t let this be a mistake, she swore to herself. “Sir, my friend and I would rather the Ambassador and Duke Henry’s representative are not harmed. However, those who are forcing us to do this are likely looking to have us take the fall for the assassination, or a failed attempt, and then have the blame placed on Duke Ravigar.”

The Steward cleared his throat. “This is a sizable story you are telling me. Why should I believe any of it?”

Gwen nodded her head. “Sir, I am from Rhyl. I have lived under Dike Ravigar for my whole life. My father–actual father–worked for Ravigar until he was killed. My friend worked for Ravigar as well, though he managed to gain his freedom from the Duke’s service. However, there are enough people who would believe we are working for the Duke that the men who hired us, and are looking to turn the other Dukes against Ravigar, would find it easy to frame us for the assassination.”

“What is the name of your friend?”

Gwen swallowed. She had revealed this much and knew she did not have any choice except to continue. Owin, please don’t let me be making a mistake. “His name is Owin. He worked for Ravigar because the Duke threatened his family.”

The Steward shifted in his seat and then motioned for Gwen to sit down. “You said you had come to me for help. Why?”

“Sir, Ravigar has ordered an assassination, but the man he hired has instructions to place the blame on Duchess Emilia.  This assassin has had a long time to set his plan in motion and likely has his men in place already. Perhaps even some in this household.”

The Steward nodded his head. “It is not a secret that Ravigar and my Duchess are at odds with each other. What were you and this Owin planning to do about this situation?”

“Sir, the location of the meeting between the Ambassador and Lord Natheniel has been set and is well-known.  If the location of the meeting were to change, that would disrupt the assassin.” She did not add ‘hopefully’ since Owin seemed to try to avoid using the qualified most of the time. “That might be enough to draw Urel out and for Owin stop him.”

The Steward’s eyes widened. “That is a name I am familiar with.”

“Our thought is that Urel has hired some local thugs to take the fall for the assassination, or the attempt, while he escapes. He’ll have planted evidence that the plot came from Duchess Emilia.  It is the same as those controlling us have done–planted evidence we are working for Ravigar.”  She hoped admitting their knowledge of the evidence would not harm them.

The Steward rubbed his stubbly chin. “And you are looking for Lord Walis to make contact with Lord Natheniel to arrange this last-minute change of locations.”

Gwen smiled. “Yes, Sir.”

The Steward pursed his lips and then nodded his head again. “Young Lady, since you have been candid with me, I will share a bit of information with you. I am not Lord Walis’ Steward. I am a direct servant of my Duchess and have almost as much authority here as the young Lord Walis. I find your statements plausible and so I will assist you.”

“Thank you, Sir,” Gwen said, her voice breaking slightly with the relief that flowed through her.

“I will need to know where you are staying.”

Gwen felt her chest tighten. “Sir?”

“Your story is plausible and to not take action would be far too risky. However, that does not mean I feel compelled to trust you. I want to keep tabs on your whereabouts and–”

“Sir, we have Denton’s men watching the place we are staying. If your people were to come by, they might suspect something. In fact, we did our best to cover the fact we have even come to speak with you. For Denton, the best case is for Owin and me to die, caught in the middle of a failed assassination attempt.  That way Ravigar is accused of the crime. While Denton hired us to stop the assassination, I think he’d rather just see us dead since that would improve his chance of success.”

The Steward leaned forward. “If you want my help, you will inform me of where you are staying. I will not send people there directly, but I will have my way. Otherwise, you will not be allowed to leave until we draw your friend in to rescue you. I will not take all the risk upon myself.”

Gwen swallowed. Your risk? Does the risk Owin and I face mean nothing even to you? She closed her eyes.

“I expect an answer,” the Steward said.

Gwen opened her eyes and slowly shook her head. “We are only trying to do what is right. Trying to protect your Duchess and get out from under the foot of a man who doesn’t care anymore for us than what he gains.” She stared into the Steward’s eyes. “We aren’t here to take advantage of you. We aren’t here to harm some noble family. I just want my mother back and Owin wants to take us somewhere where we aren’t owned by everyone.”

The Steward pursed his lips and nodded. “There is fire in you. I can see it. Very well, I will not hold you prisoner. But we do need a way to communicate. And it doesn’t mean I fully trust you. I will get independent verification of your story before I act.”

Gwen let out a sigh of relief. “Thank you, Sir. I don’t think we have much time to spare, so place be hasty about your verification.”

The Steward forced a short laugh. “I doubt you were a domestic servant before you came here.”

“Sir, I washed clothes. But Owin taught me how to stand up for myself.”

The Steward nodded. “He did you no favors. You are not fit for any proper work. However, after the sun has gone down, I will have a man with a green shirt and a red cap waiting at Iesa’s Public house.  It is near Patrick Square. He will inform you of my decision and what actions need to be taken.”

Gwen heard the dismissal in the Steward’s voice and she bowed her head. “Thank you, Sir.”

“You may call me Renald,” the man said with more warmth. “I tell you that because you remind me of my sister.”

 

The post Owin #49 — Message delivered appeared first on Thaddeus Nowak.