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Masks
Masks
Masks
Ebook26 pages23 minutes

Masks

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Devotees aren't born, they're nurtured. When Renjarro Palluri, a legionnaire in the God-Emperor's elite guard saves a red-haired woman, he has no idea how much it will change his life.

Masks takes place in Sangrar, the setting for the Tale of Ages. It begins in the year 4719, seven years before the God-Emperor exiles Hali.

LanguageEnglish
PublisherChris Garson
Release dateFeb 27, 2013
ISBN9781301452729
Masks
Author

Chris Garson

Officially, I was laid off and have a severance package to prove it, but really, it was an early retirement. Very early, I was just shy of fifty. When the time came to make the cut, I gladly volunteered. I’d had enough. Now, after three years of writing, rewriting and rewriting, I’m dipping my toe in commercial waters. I haven’t sold a word, not yet, but then again, I haven’t tried until now. Don't worry, I’m no starving artist. I provided twenty-five years of leadership as an IT executive with a Fortune 200 company. That’s a quarter century of corporate moments, some of which have already found homes in short stories. I was nationally known, in insurance technology circles, which is to say entirely unknown, led an organization commanding a nine figure budget not counting pennies, and spoke to thousands at industry events.THE CURSE OF ARVYL’S FOLLY is my first full length work seeking an audience since my fourth grade classmates were subjected to “Augusta the Dragon” forty-two years ago. After leaving Mrs. Hamilton’s classroom, I attended Wesleyan University in Middletown, Connecticut, where I devoured fantasy and science fiction classics and became an avid gamer on my way to graduating with degrees in psychology and sociology and a minor in King Arthur. Now, I live in Cleveland Heights, Ohio and my seven year old son Neil lives on the east coast. I named my cats, China and Rider, from a Grateful Dead set list, and I still like dragons. My collection is large, Neil ran out of fingers and toes just counting the winged ornaments dangling from my mantel, and very cheesy.

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    Book preview

    Masks - Chris Garson

    Masks

    By Chris Garson

    Copyright 2012 Chris Garson

    Smashwords Edition

    When he’d enlisted in the Averchai, Renjarro had dreamt of blood-spattered glory, of enemies begging for mercy at his knees, of hoisting a frosty mug to toast his mates and of Anele’s adoring kisses. Solare burn him, he’d even looked forward to polishing his legionnaire boots, but not this. Being a legionnaire was supposed to be glamorous, especially on Legionnaire’s Day, the holiday celebrating Handuri’s saddaka-maddened Grush ride to the capitol warning of an approaching barbarian horde. The festivities began with a parade that marched from the palace to the games at the Coliseum. This year, the program would conclude by re-enacting the legions’ victory over that same barbarian horde and the Averchai had spent months filling the dungeons with pick pockets, debtors, religious outlaws and commons criminals willing to fight for the chance of freedom, subject, of course, to the God-Emperor’s increasingly irrational discretion. The games promised to be spectacular this year.

    The highlight of the day was the Grush run. The normally mild-tempered beasts were penned just outside the Garden of the Gods and fed saddaka leaves, inciting a mad instinct to run towards the sea, and then released into a fenced corridor that wound through the plaza to the shore. People in temporary grandstands cheered on runners from every corner of the empire who dodged Grush and raced one another. The race would start when Lord Warden Hali lit the torch held by Umbar’s statue in the Garden and spoke Handuri’s words from four hundred years earlier, Run Grush run. Run upon the wind.

    Renjarro hadn’t missed a run in ten years, not counting the year he’d been on campaign in Lorvale. He’d only been thirteen that first time, when he’d run with his father and older brothers to fulfill the Palluri family tradition. Tall

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