All The Write Stuff: Scribe of Destiny

Say Hello to Fantasy's Most Reluctant Hero

Scribe of Destiny

by Paul Barrett & Steve Murphy

Genre: Fantasy Comedy

Briar, son of Patch, is perfectly happy working as a low-level scribe for the Church of Ubel, spending his off time painting seascapes, walking on the beach, and being alive.

That last one is put in imminent danger when the Church hierarchy determines the god Ubel has gone insane. A delegation is gathered to journey to the Oracle of Hiephi so they can learn what must be done to cure the psychopathic deity. Briar, very much against his will, must accompany the group, ostensibly to chronicle the journey for inclusion in the official Church archives.

During their adventures, horrific visions of an angry, scowling teenager plague Briar, and he soon learns there is a deeper, darker reason behind his inclusion in this insanely dangerous quest.

Facing the likes of bloodthirsty pirates, a bloodthirstier gnome talent agent, and The Slobbering Hound of Chaos, Briar slowly, and oh so unwillingly, learns his place in the world. He might even manage to become a hero. If he survives.

GUEST POST

What’s coming from the twisted minds of Paul Barrett and Steve Murphy

So now that Scribe of Destiny is out in the world, that same world is clamoring to know what else is in the feverish brain pans of Paul and Steve that they are going to unleash.

There are several things in the works from our new favorite writing duo. First up will most likely be a little one-off story that doesn’t have a title yet but can best be described as a “pseudo-LitRPG experiment.” It will be their first self-published novel and is currently in final edits.

Next is Knight Gambit (working title), the third book in their space opera series, The Knights of the Flaming Star, available from Falstaff Books on Amazon. Paul is also finishing up A Scream of Destruction, the last book in his solo Necromancer Saga trilogy.

Looking further afield, they are halfway through the second book in the Spade Case Files with an outline for the remainder. They are also in the beginning stages of their “epic fantasy” trilogy, because of course they are.

There are plenty of other ideas floating in their diseased craniums. So, you are going to see them around for a long time.

EXCERPT

Crow pushed open the door and walked in before me. Protocol dictated that I, as the guest, should have been allowed first entrance—just another petty slight. I was going to have to invent an outstanding payback. Crow had to know it would come. He didn’t serve the Archbishop at all times, and when he was off-duty, he was fair game.

The chamber was large and well decorated, with straight walls covered in soft sheer curtains and tapestries, most depicting saints martyred in gruesome ways while serving Ubel. A four-poster occupied one corner, wrapped in dark blankets. A stout wooden desk sat in the room’s center, clean except for a single sheet of parchment upon which the Archbishop scribbled with a quill. Light streamed in from an open window, aided by large oil lanterns that gave off the salty scent of whale.

As I looked about the room, a strange sense of unreality walked over me, a collision of what was with what used to be. For the briefest moment, I felt like a piece of taffy tugged on by two ravenous children, each wanting the lion’s share of my mind. This chamber was how the rest of the cathedral should be but wasn’t. Or was the cathedral right and the chamber wrong? It gave me an instant headache.

“Are you okay?” the Archbishop asked in his dull, grating voice. “You look as if you’ve seen a ghost.”

“Ghosts don’t exist,” I said reflexively.

“Don’t they?” the Archbishop said with an amused smile. He looked at Crow, who stood beside the large desk, and his smile faltered. “Why are you still here?”

“I await your Grace’s pleasure.”

“Well, his Grace’s pleasure would have been to have breakfast ready before he left home this morning, but since you were nowhere to be found, his pleasure now is that you depart since nothing here concerns you.”

Crow’s face fell as if the Archbishop slapped him. Which he had, in a way. Only great effort kept me from cheering. Crow glared at me. I offered a smile and a dismissive wave of my hand. We both knew I had won this round.

“As your Grace wishes.” He bowed and left, closing the door harder than strictly necessary.

The Archbishop eyed me for a moment, as a butcher might study a choice cut of meat. I shifted on my feet and stared at the rug-covered floor, unable to meet the man’s gaze. Today was the most direct contact I’d had with him my whole time in the Church since I usually worked with the priests or the archivist.

He cleared his throat, and I looked up to find him folding the parchment. He grabbed a small taper, dripped wax onto the fold, and pressed a ring into the wax. “Have you had any more strange feelings since I saw you last?”

You mean other than the feeling this room exists in someplace outside the rest of the building, I wanted to say. I still could get no sense of what the Archbishop thought of my earlier peculiar behavior and didn’t want to push things. But I couldn’t outright lie either. “Just a headache,” I said.

The Archbishop held up two pieces of parchment, one large and square, the other small and rectangular. “I want you to deliver these to Elder. This one,” he indicated the smaller one, “he is to read.” He waved the larger one. “This he is to deliver to the Holy Unseen.”

He gave me another grin, the kind you offered to people at funerals. “I understand from the priests that you are a good scribe. It will serve you well. Now take these.”

Puzzled at his strange comments, I walked over and took the parchments. As I touched them, I caught the thought nice working with you and felt the kind of sizzling jolt you might get from a torch smashed across your forehead. I looked at the documents as the Archbishop stepped back. These documents were another piece of the life-shift puzzle that had begun to assemble this morning. I couldn’t make out exactly what would happen, but I felt the answer was close.

Had I known how close, I would have burned the parchments, scattered the ashes, and moved to the swamp for the rest of my life.

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Book Links:
Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Scribe-Destiny-Paul-Barrett-ebook/dp/B0BPDXRQYJ

Bookbub: https://www.bookbub.com/books/scribe-of-destiny-by-paul-barrett-and-steve-murphy

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/104448959-scribe-of-destiny

About the Authors

Steve Murphy has spent much of his life in uniform, starting with four years in the Navy,

then a stint in the Army National Guard, followed by 23 years as a police officer, 9 of those as a SWAT sniper.

So naturally, he writes science fiction, fantasy, and space opera. This is his third novel, with several more in the works with Paul. In addition to writing, Steve has also worked as a consultant and set decorator for the film industry. Steve is an outdoor enthusiast who enjoys camping, backpacking, whitewater, sailing and motorcycle riding. The father of two boys, now grown men, Steve lives somewhere in North Carolina with his wife and two dogs.

Paul Barrett has had multiple careers, including rock and roll roadie, theater stage

manager, mortgage banker, and support specialist for Microsoft Excel.

This eclectic mix allowed him to go into his true love: motion picture production. He has produced two feature films (Cold Storage and Night Feeders) and two documentaries (The Final Gift, In the Footsteps of Elie Wiesel.) When not producing films, he works

as a script supervisor or props assistant. Amidst all this, Paul worked on his writing. This is his fifth novel, with more on the way. Paul is an avid board gamer, miniatures painter, movie enthusiast, and all-around nerd.

Paul lives in North Carolina with his graphic designer husband and four furry overlords, aka cats.

Paul and Steve have been friends since 1980, enduring the rough and tumble of life through thick and thin.ince 1980,

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