'Venrat!'
He was surrounded by guards and matted with blood. His swings were sluggish, his spells gasped requests to the elements. He'd proven an excellent distraction- even though the plan had gone pear-shaped- and he'd continue to be one just long enough for me to slip through the window.
My fingers knotted in the blood-clotted braid of the freshly decapitated head. It would've been nothin' for me to peg it and collect the reward on his behalf. So why was I hesitating?
As if to answer my question, he looked up at me- blowin' my chances of a clean escape- big brown eyes shinin' like Ma's homemade chocolate. The guards were workin' overtime, some of 'em about turnin' and comin' for me. My window of opportunity was closing fast.
Holy feckin' smokes.
Bet that caught your attention, eh? That right there is what literary geniuses call an 'explosive beginning'. Bam, there goes yer heart. Bam.
Why start there, you ask? Always grab your audience by the balls, whether you're selling a book or exploding coffee mugs. Patent pending, so don't even think about it, pal.
Anyway, I should introduce myself. Copperut, Venrat Copperut. Former business-savvy sassy cat turned rogue. I was so up-and-comin' I was basically there.
But that's another story.
The one you want to hear right now- and trust me, ya do- is the one involvin' that brown-eyed lovely and the head. I'm writing it myself because books were written to remember Great Things and this was my Great Thing.
Rogues have no heart, remember that.
Ever been cheated by a goblin? I certainly have. Still have his name scratched on my Ma's dagger, ready to slit his shrivelled heart and-
Sorry.
This particular story starts in a new, circular room that smells of wood and smoke. I've been doing too much of what's called digressin' so let's get back to the plot.
Hello and welcome to CTHG! This is my first time writing in a first-person view, so I apologise if it seems a little rough.