02/13/2025 Snippet, JUDITH STORMCROW AND THE FLIM-FLAM MAN.

Restarted the story.

Judith Stormcrow had long since decided that a tavern had to be the worst place in the Twenty Realms to plan a job. Too dirty, too smelly, too public, and far too much booze. You could never be sure whether the new hire was brave, or just full of half-drunk bravado.

That went double for new clients, too.

Take this ‘Gregor of Lostvale.’ Sure, he looked like he knew what he was about, even if he wasn’t a bruiser or a bravo. And he probably wasn’t drunk. But he was here, just like Judith, so things had likely gone bad for him lately. Just like Judith.

“How well does your crew know the Bone Marches?” Gregor sounded better than a bravo, too, and as sober as Judith. “Do my maps make any sense? I don’t know how good they still are.”

“They’re good enough,” Judith admitted. “Old, though. Not all the places on them are still there. Might make finding this town of yours tough.”

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