Corrupt Court Official
"I wouldn't call what they have here a justice system. More like an auction." —Elspeth
Artist: Drew Baker TCG Player Link Scryfall Link EDHREC Link
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Corrupt Court Official
"I wouldn't call what they have here a justice system. More like an auction." —Elspeth
Artist: Drew Baker TCG Player Link Scryfall Link EDHREC Link
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The Bakers Drabble (Incryptid)
Martin Baker was a big guy, slow and patient. He had a nasty scar across his face, but that was nothing next to the scars hidden by his sweater. He plodded down the badly lit hallway in no particular hurry. Undeath (or more accurately re-living) seemed to have taken the urgency out of him. Drew, his teenage son had been hiding in his room with the lights off all weekend, but that was entirely natural and healthy behavior for a teenage bogeyman. Probably. If nothing else Drew's life would involve a lot of hiding and being silent. Best to get the practice in now in the relative safety of his adopted parents' home. Martin rapped on the door, twice, carefully. Long ago he'd learned to be careful not to misjudge the strength of his fists. He heard the closet door open and a soft resentful mutter. "What was that? You've got to remember your parents are hard of hearing." Pretty much everyone was, compared to bogeymen. "I said, I was sleeping, Dad." Drew pulled open the door a crack, just enough for the dim hall light to make a stripe down his face. "That's fine." Martin nodded. "I thought you might want to do us a favor - and you will be sure to write that down, won't you? When you're an adult you're going to need to keep track of favors." The bogeymen he'd talked to had been very clear about that. Drew scowled and grimaced like he was sucking a lemon but he nodded. "You didn't need to tell me that. I mean- I've been doing it." Martin could hear him shuffle his feet self-consciously. "Good. Now, your cousins are coming over so you can babysit." He watched his son's face turn to dismay. "Also they can teach you some more self defense." "Oh. good." Drew looked like he'd prefer a root canal now and Martin recalled the last time the cousins had practiced self defense together. There had been traps involved. And knives. The Prices went into survival in a big way. It had probably been humiliating for a teenager to lose the game of hide and seek to his little cousins. Especially when he wound up dangling from a treetop snare by one ankle. But it was the best training he was likely to get, aside from Angela's shooting lessons.