Chapter 3

When a man found himself being subjected to a shove off a high location, there was only one instinct that mattered.

Hold on to something.

In this case, the object he snagged wasn't exactly anchored, and quite alive, judging by the startled scream the guard uttered as he plummeted to the ground. However, he forgave the guard his loud conversation since he graciously provided a cushion for landing.

Crack.

Bet that hurt. Not him, of course. He - the nameless fellow with the macabre humor and once great hair - rose from the groaning, broken body of the guard who'd shoved him and then kindly acted as a landing pad. The fellow could show a little more gratitude that he'd selected him, rather than grunting and screaming, making a spectacle out of both of them and a cause of attention for the beings gathered.

What to do? Pretend nonchalance? Tell a joke? Indulge in a murderous rampage? Please.