Plot Pieces

His name was Jack

His name was Jack

Based on a nightmare.

You might have heard them call him Corn Stalk Jack, Jack the Quick, or Shadow Ghost Jack the Skeleton Boy. In unkind circles he was referred to as Sewer Rat Jack or just Sewer Rat.

We knew him as Jack the Clever, and Swift Jack. Sometimes he was Boastful Jack, but he would always be our Jack; Leader of the Revolt. 

It's been 25 years since former Commodore Morel elected himself Ruler of Lynsfield and he's shown no hint at relinquishing his hold over us. He's depleted all of our food stores, from Springmead to Northbeech, to help sustain his constant lavish parties. He demands unreasonable quotas of crops from private famers and then raises the land tax when they fall short. His elite group of "dignitaries" are free to travel from town to town without consequence. They may take what they want, or who they want, when they want and how they want. No one is allowed to stop them. Not that anyone would, or could... until Jack did it first, and truthfully he was best.

He was just a boy then, not even 14. Still, he was tall for his age, always had been. He was an odd looking boy, had large ears and a long nose (like a rat), but he was so thin. He wasn't ugly, just odd looking, a person you'd remember meeting. 

Jack was very nimble, he could squeeze his long thin body through the tightest of cracks or the smallest of windows without so must as a sound. But most importantly, Jack was fast. Jack's long legs could carry him from one end of Lynsfeild to the other in a single day. I've never seen anyone move like him.

He was smart to. He knew everything going on in the town. Jack could tell you anything from the exact times of the guard rotations, to weather or not Mr. Huckabee's bread was fresh that day. 

Jack was an ideal starter and Leader of the Revolt for Lynsfield, but he was far from perfect.

He didn't like staying behind, always wanted to be a part of the raids. He enjoyed being a hair's breath away from getting caught, and liked the feel of pushing himself pass the limit. Jack would go days without sleeping, or eating, with only a constant surge of adrenaline to keep him upright.

One fall night, when Jack's stomach was filled with only the surge from his last 3 raids, he came up with a scheme that he believed would finely bring "King" Morel to his knees.