Chapter 34: Thorns
William Oh can fly.
-Jason Salazar.
Mark Wyrd leaned forward on his mount and studied the city in the distance.
Oilton. What a creative name for a place that produces oil from the inexhaustible landscape of the tower.
He’d always expected his first Lordship to be something…grander, in one sense or another. He’d always pictured staking a claim on hostile wilderness on the eleventh Floor, fighting tooth and nail to advance civilization…or a golden city that gleamed in the morning sun, with very little in between.
A quaint little oil-city in the meager third floor wasn’t exactly breaking ground in new exciting frontiers. Nor was it a river-spanning, gleaming center of civilization, like on the fifth Floor.
Mark knew better than to complain, though.
He had the required number of people, he had an empty plot. Like it or not, he’d be a Lord before the sun went down.
There was just one thing nagging him.