Sunday, December 9, 2007


Here's a text piece I wrote to get myself in the mindset of Hidden City's main villain, Christopher Parker. The plan is to run these after the strip pages in each chapter hopefully. Here also are the first two pages coloured by Kirsty to give everyone an idea of how it's going to look…


The man turned to face his accuser. Standing over six and a half feet tall, his scarred face was like a roadmap of his life. Parker had heard of the Wapping Giant but coming face to face with the creature was a different matter indeed.
“What do you want with my master?,” the towering figure bellowed in an aggressive tone.
Parker had endured his way through the streets on the coldest day of the year when he thought he’d end his life a frozen statue in the back alleyways of the unforgiving reaches of the Thames. He’d also encountered some unsavoury, violent characters intent on relieving him of his clothes, his purse and eventually his breath in the maze of walkways in Shadwell. He had come this far so he wasn’t going to be hindered by what amounted to a large but fairly unthinking blowhard. With a large plank of wood in his hands that he brandished expertly, of course.
“I’ve been told by our mutual friend Mr Grimes that your master Edward, has an item of rare beauty that would be a unique addition to my collection. If you let me pass, I am willing to offer him a fair price for the item in question.”
Parker stood his ground. Sudden movements would only seek to enrage the giant further. He was surprised that such a freak was permitted to roam the streets of East London without restraint, that some enterprising circus owner hadn’t grabbed him and put him to work .
But there were many things that surprised Christopher Parker about this world ruled by a woman, where many of the familiar things that gave him confidence in his place in England were gone, replaced by the strange and the foreboding.
But Parker had been stymied before. In some ways, his life up to this point had been a series of hinderances and the item in question was worth the struggle to acquire it.
The Wapping Giant was confused by Parker’s lack of belligerence and this confusion allowed the experienced mage to gain the upper hand. Taking a small wrapped kerchief out of his waistcoat pocket, Parker split the kerchief with a small bladed knife and blew its contents in the face of the slow but physically powerful creature.
The Giant went down and Parker went on his way.
“I”ll brook no further delays,” he said to the prone figure. The deathmask of Oliver Cromwell would soon be his.



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