#Enezeag

[aquadestinyswriting]

Writing Snippet: A 'What If?'

Alright, so I did a bit of "speculative" writing for the Destiny's New Servants campaign before I took over as GM, trying to figure out where the first GM was going with the story. I've lost most of that writing due to changing laptops and being careless with file transfers over the years (make sure you back up your work kids), but I found this one hidden in the depths of my external hard drive about a month ago.

I vividly recall writing the following piece over the course of about a week. I started the morning after the session where Starhammer died because I wanted to remember every detail of that session, then just... carried on with my ideas of what might happen next.

Now, I was also wondering how best to have Merri leave the picture once I took hold of the reins of the campaign at this point. I had an idea of what I had planned to happen back in Fangthane, but the fact was, the first DM was not going to go easy on us, and it was very likely at least one of the characters would die in the fight against Darkhide. We also knew that Darkhide wanted to rip open the portal to the Pit again, and we'd used up all the God Clay that was left on Titan; what the hell were we going to do if he succeeded? So I wrote something to cover that exact scenario. It all becomes a bit self-indulgent, but that's part of why I like it so much. I apologise in advance to anyone using screen readers, I couldn't think of a decent way to split up the different sections of the story. I'll change it once I come up with something that isn't so much of a pain in the backside for you.

This fairly long piece covers the aftermath of Starhammer's death then skips forward a bit, just as a heads up. The speculative stuff starts after Merri's conversation with Elowyn and Enezeage.

Tags: @druidx, @sparrow-orion-writes , @homesteadchronicles, @warriorbookworm, @mariahwritesstuff, @writeblrsupport, @ashirisu, @thesorcerersapprentice, @blind-the-winds, @freedominique

Elowyn grumbled as Enezeage shimmied down the wall and back onto the street. She got down as the half-orc rolled his shoulders,

“Should we go in after them?” he asked, cracking his knuckles. Elowyn shook her head,

“No, first we need to find Meredith and find out if she wants to press charges.” She said firmly, “We can’t just go in and start arresting people.” Enezeage grumbled, but nodded and looked up the street, noticing that the Celestial Dog had paused in front of what seemed to be a grove of trees. He pointed to it,

“What’s that?” he asked. Elowyn wracked her brain for a moment,

“That’s the Grove of Obad-Hai.” She replied, cautiously running up to it and stopping as she saw a very pale and shaken looking Meredith come out of the trees, along with a man in dark brown clerical robes. The man bowed slightly to the Woodling and turned to Meredith,

“Remember what we said, Daughter of Moradin.” He said sternly, before melding with a nearby tree. Elowyn made a face as the Grove seemed to retract and create a firm barrier around the outside,

“I hate those trees.” She muttered, before turning her attention to Meredith. Upon seeing the look on the Dwarf’s face, she rushed up to her and wrapped her arms around her shoulders,

“Meredith, oh by all the Gods, what happened?” she asked as the other woman began to shake, quite violently, the Woodling noticed. Meredith’s breath hitched as she tried to speak but couldn’t seem to quite manage. Elowyn rubbed her shoulders, “Come on Merri, talk to us.” She said in as soothing as voice as she could manage, waving a hovering Enezeage back slightly. Meredith took a few shallow, shaky breaths and clutched the book she was carrying to her chest tightly,

“St–Starham–mer… he’s– he’s dead.” She finally managed to choke out, tears streaking down her face as the events of the whole evening finally hit her. Elowyn’s hands stopped abruptly, staring at the dwarf with wide-eyed shock,

“Wh–what happened?” she asked in a low voice. Meredith hugged herself tighter,

“The beer… the traitorous swine, he spiked the beer wi–wi’ ooze.” Elowyn’s heart dropped into her stomach,

“Oh no.” she moaned, bringing the traumatized dwarf into a tight hug, “Merri, I’m so, so sorry.” She said, tears stinging her own eyes. Enezeage grunted,

“What about those robed dudes?” he asked gruffly. Elowyn sighed and nodded, gently pushing the dwarf back so she could look at her again,

“I take it those guys showed up when you came outside?” she asked. Meredith nodded,

“Aye, they wanted tae know who I wis an– an’ whit I wis doiin’.” She replied, her voice raw, “I summoned the dug when they drew their swords an’ chased me doon the street.” She finally met Elowyn’s eyes, “They s–said they were bounty hunters.” Elowyn nodded,

“Right ok, Merri I have to ask you this because it’s important.” She said her tone turning a bit firmer, “Do you want to press charges against those guys?” she asked. Meredith fell silent for several long moments, chewing her bottom lip as she thought the question over. Finally, she slowly shook her head. Elowyn bit back a growl of frustration,

“Are you sure? We can get these guys arrested and taken off the streets.” She said. Meredith glanced down at the floor,

“I– It’s no’ worth it.” She said quietly, “D– dinna take this  the wrong way, but… I dinna trust that they won’t just get away’ with it.” Elowyn sighed and forced Meredith to look at her. When this was accomplished she pointed to her badge,

“You see this badge?” she said, “That means that I can go arrest those hooligans and get them locked up and make sure they never get out onto the streets again.” Meredith gave the Woodling a sullen glare,

“Then why don’t ye tell that to the officer who tried to kill me when they paid him off.” She retorted bitterly. Enezeage growled,

“Let’s just go take care of them, Elowyn. We know what they’re doing is wrong anyway.” Elowyn looked up at the Monk and shook her head as she came to the realisation that perhaps Meredith might be right,

“No, if Meredith doesn’t want to press charges, then we have no choice in the matter.” She told him firmly. She turned back to the Dwarf, who was still huddled into herself, “Are you sure you don’t want to press any charges?” she asked. Meredith nodded,

“Aye, it’s not as though anyone's gonna waste their time with the only dwarf left in the city anyway.” She muttered darkly. Elowyn sighed heavily,

“Alright.” She said, “Can you at least remember what this officer you ran into looked like?” Elowyn made up a mental image of the man as Meredith described him and nodded firmly. She recalled that he was likely one of the Road Wardens.

‘Right then, looks like I’ll need to go have a word with someone’s superior officer.’ She thought to herself, gently looping her arm around Meredith and guiding the poor woman away from the Grove,

“Come on then, let’s get you home.” She said gently, motioning with her head for Enezeage to take point. The Half-Orc grumbled, but did what he was silently told, tucking his arms into the sleeves of his own robe as the little group finally began to make their way back to Acacia Avenue.

~*~

Meredith rocked back on her heels with a sigh, she was devoted to Moradin, no question about that. However, even as she reached for His grace this morning, there was… nothing. The hollow feeling that was left behind after Starhammer’s death was hitting the young dwarf hard. Darkhide was still a massive threat that needed to be taken care of, but could she even be of any help to the others at this point? That she could not reach her God scared the cleric, although she knew it was unlikely that Moradin had forsaken her it was still disconcerting to receive no response to her daily prayers.

‘Not only that, but the High Priest and Archlector will have felt the shift by now as well.’ She thought to herself as she got up and made her way downstairs to the kitchen.

~*~

Orock had held a lovely service to Starhammer’s memory, Meredith thought, but that she could not hold a proper Dwarven ceremony upset her more than the knowledge that the older dwarf was gone. Elowyn, bless her, had tried to help but the Woodling just could not understand just how deeply Dwarves held their traditions. Unfortunately, even if there had been a body to bury, Moradin was not available to grant any Blessings and Meredith doubted that Throff would want to stick around either. Meredith was still nursing the first mug of ale she had been handed, unable to really bring herself to drink all that much, when a lanky human came rushing into the back room,

“Elowyn! We got a situation at the Garden of Galana!” Farren yelled as he dodged an irate Khord Inititate whose drink he had knocked over. The Woodling was on her feet instantly,

“What kind of situation?” she demanded, kicking Enezeage in the shin to wake him back up and rounding up the rest of her group. Farren grunted,

“Apparently, a bunch of men in black cloaks have a problem with the church’s High Priest and are trying to get into the Garden to ‘have a word’.” Elowyn frowned,

“But why would they…?” Elowyn muttered, trailing off as she realised what the problem was. She glanced over to Meredith, who had grabbed her mace and Book of Moradin and was looking over at the Paladin expectantly. Elowyn sighed and turned to Farren,

“Has the local Watch House responded yet?” she asked. Farren shook his head,

“The Captain in charge said something about it being an ‘ecumenical matter’.” He said, clearly not happy with that explanation. Elowyn frowned and turned to Meredith,

“You’re staying here.” She said simply, gesturing for the rest to follow her. She expected to hear an angry exclamation and to be asked why, so when it didn’t come, Elowyn looked back over her shoulder with a worried frown. Meredith had gone back to her seat, without comment and was back to staring into the mug of ale she had been nursing. Orock frowned as he looked between the dwarf and Woodling, and made his way to stand behind Meredith,

“I’ll keep an eye on her.” He rumbled, “You’d better get going.” He said, laying a large hand on the dwarf’s comparatively tiny shoulder. Elowyn nodded,

“Once we’ve sorted this whole thing out, I’ll get someone to come back and get her.” She said, running out of the Plot Hook and making her way, with the rest of her companions to the other side of the city.

~*~

Elowyn almost skidded to a stop as she finally made it to the Garden of Galana. She had expected that the Abouna would use some clerical magic to keep the area safe. What she hadn’t expected was the sight of a tall human Wizard with auburn hair and spectacles, standing in front of the entrance to the Garden, holding back a very irate group of humans in black cloaks.

“Step aside!” the leader of the people in black cloaks hissed, “There’s a stunty in there that has a very good price on his head.” The Wizard snorted,

“I’m giving you gentleman one last chance to leave before I get upset.” She replied evenly, gripping the Yew staff in her hand a little tighter. Elowyn smiled a little,

“Hey Derren, what do you say we let these fine men know who they’re back-chatting?” she asked, looking up at her partner. Farren, catching the look in the Woodling’s face, grinned,

“Yeah, why not?” he asked, grabbing his cosh. Elowyn looked back at Felix and Enezeage,

“You guys stay back here with Aurri and grab the ones that decide to scarper.” She said, “I think Abouna Shiverstaff and Grand Wizard Frigidwake are a bit more likely to try pressing charges so we can nick this sorry lot.” Enezeage grinned around his tusks and nodded,

“Finally.” He growled. Felix brought his hands into a casting position and nodded. Elowyn looked up to Farren again and nodded, casually walking around the group of men until she came around to the front.

“Is there a problem, Grand Magus?” Elowyn asked, using her best ‘on the beat copper’ voice. The leader whirled around, a little panicked as he suddenly seemed to realise just who it was he was up against. Selene smirked a little and looked over to Elowyn,

“Good afternoon, Officer O’Toreguard, Officer Breakwood.” She greeted happily, “I was just asking these fine gentlemen to leave the area.” She explained, “They seem to have this ridiculous notion that they can collect a bounty on the good Abouna’s head, despite Toreguard Law clearly stating that all religious figures are under the full protection of the Drakemarie Empire.” She added. Elowyn tapped her chin thoughtfully,

“Really now?” she asked, turning to the group of humans, “What do you lot have to say about these accusations then?” she asked politely. The leader, who had backed off, glowered at the Woodling,

“Seems like there was a bit of a misunderstanding.” He said in a low voice, “We weren’t aware that the… dwarf that was in the area was the High Priest of the church.” He said. Elowyn looked at her fingernails and tutted,

“Well you see, that’s a bit of a problem. I was under the impression that the few Dwarves still in the city were still protected from murder and abuse under general Toreguard Law, not just the religious figures.” She said, glancing up to her partner, “Officer Breakwood, what do you think?” she asked. Farren tapped his cosh against his boot,

“I think you’re right, O'Toreguard.” He said, “I don’t recall any news about changes to the law, I think I’d remember if someone said something about Dwarves being fair game.” The leader of the other group backed up some more,

“Well, we’ll just be on our way then.” He said, turning around in an attempt to get away, only to find that the people at the back had already been either knocked out or frozen in place as they tried to flee. Enezeage cracked his knuckles,

“Hullo there sunshine.” He growled, grinning somewhat menacingly. The human grunted as Farren grabbed his wrists and cuffed him. Elowyn turned to Selene,

“Well at least now we can get this lot booked once we get them to the nearest station.” She said. The Wizard nodded,

“I believe I can help with that.” She smiled. She looked up to a nearby rooftop and whistled. Almost immediately a large magpie flew down and fluttered onto her shoulder. Selene tickled the bird under his beak, “Chrackle, take this down to the nearest Watch House, we need a couple of wagons to take these fine gentlemen there.” She said, quickly taking out a slip of parchment and quill and making a note. The magpie chuckled as she tied the note to its leg. Selene rolled her eyes,

“After you get back. Stop being greedy.” She chastised. The magpie chuckled again as it flew off. Selene looked at the group of men, who were being rounded up by Farren and Enezeage, then turned to Elowyn,

“Thank you for the help Elowyn.” She sighed, pushing her glasses up her nose, “I didn’t want to have to resort to casting anything to scare them off.” Elowyn nodded as she leaned against the outer wall around the Garden, watching as Farren read the whole group their rights

“I know, at least I’ve managed to get a hold of these guys now.” She sighed, shaking her head. Selene frowned down at the Woodling,

“What happened?” she asked in a low voice. Elowyn shook her head sadly,

“These guys don’t know it, but Enezeage and I know exactly what they’re about. Merri sent a Celestial Dog to find us because she was in trouble. She ran into these guys last night and they chased her all the way from the Dwarven District to the Grove of Obad-Hai.” Selene frowned,

“Why didn’t she stay in the temple?” she asked, “Between them she and Starhammer should have…” Elowyn was shaking her head again,

“Starhammer’s dead Selene.” The Woodling said, her voice tight. “By the time ‘Zeage and I got there, the temple didn’t look too good either.” Selene sighed heavily and pushed her glasses up her nose,

“Egrim’s not going to be pleased with the news.” She muttered, “Once word reaches Fangthane about that, every dwarf in the vicinity is going to get called back there and Father Shiverstaff only just got this place back up and running.” The two women watched as a paddy wagon rumbled up the street and the robed men were loaded onto. Chrackle landed on Selene’s shoulder with a satisfied croak. The Wizard fished out a regular gold coin from her purse and handed it to the bird, who chuckled happily. The captain of the nearby watchhouse approached and saluted Selene smartly,

“Do we know if the High Priest wishes to press charges?” he asked. Elowyn stepped forward,

“Elowyn O’Toreguard, watchhouse eight sir.” She greeted smartly with a salute of her own, “If you will allow the Grand Wizard and myself an hour or so to talk to the Abouna about the matter we can let you know as soon as we can.”  The Captain narrowed his eyes slightly, but nodded,

“Very well then. I will get these lads back to the watchhouse while we wait.” He said stiffly. Once he was gone, both Elowyn and Selene frowned in concern,

“ Do you think they might get away with it after all that?” Elowyn asked quietly. Selene sighed,

“Almost certainly.” She replied heavily, “But we can’t dwell on that right now. I think we’d better let Egrim know they’re gone.” The Wizard looked expectantly at her familiar, who croaked in acknowledgement and fluttered to a heavy vine. The bird cocked its head for a moment before tapping on the wood. After a moment the vines retracted and another Woodling popped her head out of the door to the church,

“Elowyn, Selene?!” she exclaimed, rushing out and pulling the Paladin into a hug, “Oh, I’m so glad you’re safe! I was so worried!” Selene smiled and nodded in greeting, while Elowyn hugged the other woman,

“I know mum. Look, can we come in and see the Abouna? It’s important.” Oakrose nodded,

“Of course dear, come on in, all of you. I’ll get the kettle on.” The whole group were ushered inside and told to wait in the refectory. Selene held up a hand before going inside. She quickly gestured and muttered a few words, a silver shimmer hanging in the air for a few moments before dissipating. The Wizard nodded, satisfied,

“That should keep out any further, unwanted guests.”  She said as Oakrose gave her a concerned look. The older Woodling shrugged and went back to work while Selene joined the others. After a few moments a dwarf with a wood-brown beard and blue(?) eyes bustled into the room. He seemed relieved to see who had shown up,

“Ta fer gettin’ rid of’ those idiots out there.” He said giving everyone a grateful smile, “ I wis off a mind tae ask the Council what the bloody hells they were playin’ at an’ getting’ help from the Druids.” Selene shook her head,

“You honestly didn’t think I would leave you to deal with those hooligans yourself, Egrim?” she asked. The dwarf waved his hand,

“Ach! I ken you would’t Sel, ye’re pretty much the only one on tha bloody thing that's no’ a backstabbing–” Elowyn held up her hand,

“Ok I think we get the idea Abouna.” She chuckled, “The ‘idiots’ as you call them, have all been arrested on various charges so they shouldn’t be bothering you again.” Egrim snorted derisively,

“Until they’re all released again in a week, tops.” He retorted. He shook his head upon seeing the expression on Elowyn’s face at his comment, “Dinna get me wrong, child, but I’m no’ blind nor deaf. Aside from myself, yon wee cleric friend an’ a handfull o’ Slayers, there’s no one else left this side o’ Fangthane.” He pointed out. Elowyn’s face fell,

“If I can get enough evidence…” She said desperately. The dwarf sighed heavily,

“Elowyn, lass, I ken ye’re tryin’ yer best, but ye’re only one of a very few that actually care about this.” He nodded to Farren, who was making up a fresh rollie. The human shrugged,

“Hate to break it to you kid, but ours is the only Watchhouse that was still going anywhere near the Dwarven district.” He lit the cigarette and took a drag, “I think the Council are pretty much just looking the other way until it all ‘blows over’, especially since we’ll be under siege by a massive horde of undead in about a day or so.” Egrim barked out a humourless laugh,

“’Blows over’ he says. Bah!” the dwarf went over to a nearby ale cask, drew himself a tankard, checked the contents and took a swig, “Given what happened last night, they’ll be lucky if they’re no’ fightin’ a fresh war immediately after this.” Elowyn’s eyes went wide and looked between the Abouna and Selene,

“But why would they do something like that?” she asked plaintively. Selene sighed heavily,

“Mostly because the whole city has likely been placed on the Fangthane Book of Grudges, Elowyn.” She explained, “From what Edwin told me the last time I contacted him, the Low King is under a lot of pressure from the displaced dwarves that are now living there to get some kind of retribution for the people that have lost their homes, livelihoods and even family members.” Elwoyn shook her head,

“But Starhammer wasn’t even killed by this Brotherhood of the Cleave. They were still outside and waiting when Merri came out of the temple.” She protested. That earned her a confused look from the Abouna, who paused while taking another swig of ale,

“Wait, what?” he asked, putting his tankard down, “So if those bastards weren’t responsible, who was?” Enezeage snorted,

“From what Meredith told us last night, it looks like it was that Grinbeard guy.”

“Grimebeard? Garl Grimebeard?” the dwarf asked, looking between the rest of Elowyn’s group. Elowyn nodded,

“Yeah, turns out he had forsaken Moradin and was poisoning people with Oozes disguised as beer. I thought we took care of him?” she asked looking over to Felix and Enezeage. Felix shook his head slowly,

“No, it was one of the other members of his family, remember?” he replied, “The others had long gone by the time we took care of the Clay Golem created out of that poor gnome and the Oozes in the cauldrons.” Both Elowyn and Egrim looked like they were going to be sick,

“We never got around to trying to find the rest of them.” Elowyn muttered, “I honestly thought it was Garl we took care of and the rest just scarpered.” She buried her head in her hands. Selene looked over to Egrim with worry,

“What’s the matter, Egrim?” she asked. The dwarf sat down heavily,

“I’ve been in contact with Fangthane a lot recently, fer obvious reasons. I wis wonderin’ aboot tha rumours goin’ about around some folk goin’ missing’ recently. I don’t think the activities of ol’ Grimebeard has been limited tae Toreguard.”

“You think he might be responsible for the disappearances?” Selene asked. The Abouna nodded,

“Ragnarsson mentioned somethin’ about finding some bad beer in the Cathedral’s cellar. I didn't think anything’ of it at first, even dwarven beer goes bad if it’s kept long enough, but…”

“They’re trying to get rid of every Moradin worshipper they can.” Selene muttered, “But why?” the wizard looked up at her old friend, “We need to get word to Fangthane about this, now.” She said firmly, “

“There might be a problem with that, lovies.” Oakrose said as she came into the refectory, handing Egrim a scroll. The Dwarf unrolled it and quickly read through it. He crumpled the parchment not long after,

“Bollocks tae that.” He swore, tossing the balled up parchment to the floor. Selene sighed,

“Let me guess, all communications out of the city have been forbidden, including all scrying and other magical means?” she asked lightly. Elowyn groaned as the dwarf nodded with a weary sigh,

“An’ afore ye ask, I rather think they’ll include familiars as magical objects.” Selene snorted,

“I’m well aware of that Egrim.” She snipped, “Luckily, if there’s one thing Alexis did manage to teach me in the time I travelled with her, it’s to never just rely on one or two methods of communication. That and to never kowtow to a giant red lizard who thinks he’s smarter than you.” She added. Elowyn frowned in confusion,

“What are you going to do?” she asked nervously. The Wizard honestly scared her sometimes. Selene sent the Woodling a reassuring smile,

“Just going to visit an old friend to ask for a bit of help.” She said, “But first, I think I’d better go and fetch your cleric. She’ll be safer here.”

~*~

Much, much later

Darkhide laughed maniacally even as the last of his life seeped from him,

“You’re too late.” he coughed wetly, spraying blood, “The portal is open, the way is clear. A– and you have no God Clay to– to save you.” He chuckled, his throat gargling. Elowyn dropped to her knees, despair written all over her features. Enezeage had bowed his head and placed his hands in his sleeves, while Felix cried out in anger and anguish. Quintin closed his eyes and prayed silently to Correlon Lorethion for a swift death. Meredith, however, struggled to her feet,

“No.” she growled, wincing from the beating Darkhide had given her earlier, “I am not admitting any sort of defeat to you.” She spat, glaring at the Necromancer. Darkhide grinned darkly,

“Do I need… to remind you girl? Moradin… is dead.” He said, now gasping for air. Meredith snorted, looking over at the giant rend in the earth in front of the group.

“I heard ye the first time, ye bag o’ wind.” She said flatly, “But ye never said anything’ about Throff.” She added, glancing back at the dying human. Darkhide frowned momentarily, then his eyes widened,

“No.” he croaked, his last breath finally leaving him as he attempted to reach out towards Meredith, who was staggering over to the portal’s edge. Elowyn jumped to her feet,

“Merri? What are you doing?” the Paladin yelped, racing up next to the dwarf. Meredith looked down at the chasm with a determined expression,

“Finishing’ this.” She replied. She looked up at Elowyn, “Take the others, and run.” She commanded, “If this doesn’t work, ye’ll need tae evacuate as many people as ye can from the Plains.” Elowyn frowned and shook her head quickly,

“But what about you?” she asked. Meredith sighed and glanced back at the chasm,

“That doesn’t matter.” She said quietly, she looked back up at the Woodling sharply, “Now get goin’!” she snapped, a ripple of power washing over Elowyn. The Paladin tried to resist, but found herself unable to. She glared back at the dwarf, even as her feet took her away, tears stinging in her eyes. Meredith watched her friends leave, guilt tearing at her heart,

“I’m sorry.” She muttered, “But this is my burden to bear.” The Inquisitor turned back to the portal, took a deep breath and knelt. She took a moment and then began to cast,

“Throff, gentle Mother of my people, know that I do not make this request of You lightly. I am fully aware of the cost involved and I will pay it.” She prayed, gathering up as much power as she could muster, “Please, grant me the strength to close this abomination, to heal this world that has been wounded so badly already.” She begged, tears stinging her eyes. After a moment, Meredith felt the earth beneath her ripple slightly. She smiled softly; there may not have been any spare God Clay left, but wasn’t Titan made of the stuff? The Dwarf closed her eyes tightly, pushing yet more power into the spell, feeling it drain her very soul as the earth finally began to move, closing the portal to the Abyss. Demons, who had been making their way up from the bottom of the Pit, screeched as slowly, their means of escape closed in around them. They pushed back and the spell wavered.

Meredith was almost completely tapped out, black spots obscured her vision as she felt the resistance,

“No,” she breathed, “I–I am not letting…” her breathing became shallower as she tried to push yet more power into the Shaping spell. It was then she felt a gentle brush on her shoulder. She blinked back the blackness creeping into her vision and looked in the direction the touch had come from. Stringwhiskers, limned in a golden light, twitched his nose at her,

“We know what you doing.” He squeaked, “We come to help.”

“You got this Merri, keep going.” Alphonse’s voice encouraged from somewhere behind her. Looking around at the faces of her deceased friends and travelling companions, Meredith nodded and glared at the portal, which was slowly pushing back open. Gathering up what little strength she had left, the dwarf pushed it all into the spell. The earth rumbled violently as the two opposing forces clashed, but finally, with a deafening ‘boom!’ the portal snapped shut. The hand of a Balor that had been unlucky enough to get in the way, wavered then disintegrated into dust on the wind as everything finally settled. A weak ray of sunlight lit up the ground where the portal had been and a bird flew over and perched on the out of place hammer that glinted as the clouds above Castle Dire finally broke.

When the Command spell finally wore off Elowyn and the others, they were most of the way along the road to Toreguard. Almost immediately, the Woodling spun around and began marching back up the road towards Castle Dire,

“When I get a hold of that girl, she is getting the earbashing of the century!” she snarled. Felix tugged on her arm nervously,

“What was Merri even doing?” he asked. Elowyn shook her head,

“The stupid woman’s probably trying to close the portal by herself.” She replied. Enezeage strode in front of the Woodling,

“Then maybe, it’s a good idea to do what we were told?” he suggested. Elowyn was about to give the Monk a scathing reply, when the earth under their feet rumbled. Felix squeaked and grabbed a hold of Quintin’s leg. The Elf staggered a little at the sudden gesture, but was quick to find his footing again. Enezeage grabbed a hold of Elowyn’s arm as the Paladin fell back with the sudden movement, a large, squat sea of calm amidst the chaos. Felix looked around in awe as the tremor ceased,

“Whoa, someone’s either being really stupid or really brave to try casting this big a spell.” He said, his eyes wide. Elowyn frowned and checked to see if there was anyone evil nearby that was attempting to cast something new. The only hint of red she found though, was a brilliant glow up where the portal had been opened.

“OK, ow. Remember that big ass portals to the Abyss don’t need to be checked for Evil.” She muttered as she blinked her vision back. Felix shook his head,

“It’s not an arcane spell.” He called as another, larger rumble shook the road beneath them. He waited until the new tremor had passed before continuing as he studied the lines of power only he could see, “I think… yeah, it’s Divine Magic. It’s all white and gold.” Elowyn paled and looked up towards Castle Dire,

“Merri, what are you playing at?” she whispered. Aurianna mewled from her perch on the Paladin’s shoulder,

“I think she’s trying to use a Shape spell to close the portal.” She said quietly. Elowyn frowned,

“How? There’s no God Clay left, right?” she asked, now beginning to panic. Enezeage hummed as he realised something,

“That’s true,” he rumbled, “but what did Titan make the world out of?” he asked. Elowyn’s eyes went wide as an even bigger tremor rumbled through the earth, causing everyone to lose their footing. Once it was over, a massive ‘Boom!’ rent the air then… the earth stilled. The group looked at one another questioningly as they got up. After no further tremors came along, Elowyn rushed up the road as fast as her legs could carry her, at least until Enezeage hoisted her onto his shoulder and ran the rest of the way for her.

Once they reached the top, the group looked around in shock. Darkhide’s body was still pretty much exactly where it had been left, as had the bodies of the other Cabal members and the undead. There was, however, no sign of the portal. Or of Meredith. Elowyn was let down as Enezeage looked around in confused awe,

“MERRI!” Elowyn called desperately. She ran around the grounds of Castle Dire, looking for any sign of her old friend, “MEREDITH!” She ran around the rest of the huge courtyard, “Meredith Gruksdottir, you get your ass over here right now!” There was no reply, aside from the croaking of the ravens that had come along to feast on the dead. Quintin quickly came around the corner,

“Elo, I think you need to come have a look at this.” He called. The elf looked confused and upset. Elowyn rushed over to him,

“What’s going on?” she asked. The Ranger held out an elaborate mace. It was made of the best Iron and etched all over with Dwarven Runes. Meredith’s warmace. Elowyn reached out to touch it, but quickly withdrew her hand,

“Where did you find this?” she asked sharply. Quintin turned around and nodded to the courtyard behind him,

“Next to the edge of where the portal should have been.” He replied heavily, “We’ve looked everywhere in the area. There’s no sign of her besides this.” Elowyn glared at the elf,

“There has to be!” she snapped, her voice tight with emotion as she ran over to where the portal had been less than an hour before. Quintin sighed and followed the Woodling at a more sedate pace, tickling a raven that had landed on his shoulder under its beak.

Elowyn reached the knoll where the portal had not long before torn a hole through reality to the Abyss and looked around desperately, tears streaming down her face. The rest of her party finally arrived in the area, looking as lost and confused as the Woodling felt. She looked at each other them, still hoping there was something, anything else. Slowly they shook their heads. Cragspine approached the Woodling, who was now hugging her knees into her chest and sobbing. He gently touched the Paladin’s hand,

“Meredith might not be here, but portal is gone.” He said in a low voice, “This place saturated with Divine Magic, she obviously successful.” He pointed out. Elowyn really didn’t take too much comfort in the little Kobold’s words. The Dwarf, despite some of her faults, had managed to more or less survive their entire journey and had been a welcome, steady presence when everything had, as they often said to one another, ‘turned to shit’.

“It’s not fair.” She sniffled, “Why did all the big stuff have to fall on just her?” Cragspine shook his head,

“The Gods are fickle.” He reminded her, “Come, we go tell big human peoples news.” He said gently, tugging on the sleeve of the Woodling’s overcoat. Elowyn lifted her head and slowly shook her head,

“You guys go on ahead, I need a minute.” Cragspine looked back at Enezeage with a questioning expression. The Half-Orc nodded and shooed everyone else back to the road to Toreguard. The Monk turned to Elowyn,

“Don’t be too long.” He rumbled. Elowyn nodded as he turned around and followed the others. When she was finally alone, Elowyn knelt on the grass and prayed,

“I hope you managed to find wherever it was you wanted to go.” She said, fresh tears making their way down her cheeks, “You really do have a bad habit of wanting to outdo yourself though, don’t you?” she laughed, “I will personally make sure that what you managed to accomplish today is properly recognised though. Maybe once word gets out about it, people back home will stop being such dicks to Dwarves again.” She looked at her hands, which were balled up on her knees, “I’m going to really miss you. I mean, it’s no fun being the only girl with a bunch of men and who am I going to complain about Gorgeous with now?” The Paladin sighed heavily, “Sleep well, Sister. Hope you’re waiting with a mug of decent beer by the time I join you up there.”  She said with a faint smile. The Woodling pulled herself to her feet and looked up at the sky above her, saluted and finally left.

~*~

Even though it was well after dark by the time Elowyn and what remained of her party got back to Toreguard, General Strucker was waiting at the gates for them,

“Did you manage to stop him?” he asked, clearly nervous about the answer he was about to receive. Enezeage, who had picked up Darkhide’s body on his way back, dropped it at the General’s feet,

“There’s the evidence.” He grunted. The General slowly grinned at the sight,

“So it’s over.” He breathed, “At last.” He gestured for one of the guards with him to take the body, “Get that to the Wizard’s Tower, no doubt they’ll want to make sure that there’s no chance of him being resurrected or have any other means of coming back.” He ordered. Two of the guards saluted, picked up the body and carted it off immediately. The General frowned as he looked the group over, “Hang on a minute, what happened to your Dwarf friend?” he asked. Elowyn stepped forward, Meredith’s mace in her hands,

“She fell closing a new portal to the Abyss that Darkhide managed to open before he died.” She said quietly, “If it’s all the same to you, General, I’d rather explain the situation in front of people who know more about magic than I do.” She requested. The General’s face fell as he regarded the beautiful weapon and nodded,

“Indeed. Come, I’ll arrange for a full Wizard’s council in the main Council Chambers for you. Grand Magus Frigidwake is something of a night owl these days and I’ve no doubt she’ll want to know exactly what happened.” He said. Felix coughed, getting the man’s attention,

“You might want to call on some of the religious leaders as well.” The gnome said, “Meredith was, after all, a cleric of Moradin.” The General nodded again,

“Duly noted, Master Gnome, I shall take note of that. But enough, I rather think you all deserve a bit of rest before you get bombarded from all sides with questions.” He said rather more gently, “We’ve arranged for you to stay in the Plot Hook overnight so that you can have a bit of a lie in.” Everyone nodded tiredly, following the General to a rather large and luxurious carriage and piling inside. By the time Orock showed them all to their rooms, they were all already mostly asleep and dead to the world by the time their heads hit their pillows.

~*~

Elowyn found herself feeling oddly calm as she waited outside the main council chambers the next morning. Perhaps, she thought, it was the absence of the Merchant’s Guild, or maybe it was because she had a decent night’s sleep for the first time in what seemed like forever. No matter what the reason, she walked confidently into the large chamber, alongside her friends, who also seemed far more at ease. Selene smiled at the group warmly as she took her seat at the head of the chamber and waited for the rest of the Wizard’s Council and Toreguard’s Religious Council to sit. This done, she leaned forward in her chair,

“Elowyn O’Toreguard, Paladin of the Light and Sergeant of Watchhouse 8, Northwest Precinct, can you please explain to the council what, exactly, transpired at Castle Dire yesterday morning and afternoon?” she asked calmly. The Woodling nodded and stepped forward, telling the combined Head Wizards and Religious leaders of the fight with Darkhide and the rest of the Cabal, of Darkhide’s apparent defeat then his opening of a new portal to the Abyss that was made permanent with the sacrifice of what seemed to be the population of a nearby village. She then went on to explain how, despite being beaten bloody and almost to death earlier, Meredith, Inquisitor of Moradin, had refused to admit defeat and sent the rest of her party away.

“We’re not sure what she did,” Elowyn said, her throat tightening at the memory, “but whatever it was, she managed to completely and utterly seal the portal. The only thing we could find of her when we returned to Castle Dire, was her warmace.” She finished, gesturing to the item, which had been placed on a plush cushion on a table near the front of the room. The Head Priest of Pellor stood and regarded the mace with a curious expression,

“I must admit, my fellows and I felt a very large pull of Divine Magic just before the earthquakes started.” He said, looking around at his fellow High Priests, who were all nodding, “How this single cleric accomplished such a thing is… well none of us have been able to work it out.” He admitted, “Normally a large ritual has to be involved to pull such a large amount of magic into a single area.”

“Perhaps I can help with your query.” A voice quavered from behind Elowyn. She frowned as Selene’s eyes went wide and the Wizard stood with a hasty, deep bow. She looked over her shoulder to find a very elderly dwarf come into the room, escorted by several beardlings and leaning heavily on an elaborate metalwork staff. Elowyn bowed deeply as well, though noting with worry that the old dwarf appeared to be quite unwell.

“Archlector Vanskleig, it is a real honour to have you visit us.” Selene said, her tone worried as, she too, noted that the old dwarf was clearly unfit to have travelled such a long distance, “Someone get him a seat!” she snapped as she hurried down from her position to assist the beardlings in helping him to a chair that was conjoured by a junior wizard. The elderly dwarf smiled warmly at the Wizard as she knelt in front of him,

“Do you require anything, Archlector, a drink of water perhaps?” she asked Vanskleig shook his head,

“No, child. I am here to find out what happened yesterday.” He replied evenly, “I am afraid I do not travel well using portals.” He added. Selene nodded and stepped back, looking over to Elowyn,

“Elowyn, dear, can you quickly summarise what happened at Castle Dire again?” she asked. Elowyn, despite how soul sick she felt to recall the events again, nodded,

“Of course, Grand Magus.” She replied. Taking a moment to centre herself again before repeating what she had told the Council. Once she was done, the Archlector nodded,

“You recall that Meredith was a Shaper, correct?” he asked. Elowyn thought back to when the group had visited Fangthane the first time and nodded,

“Yes, Your Holiness, I do.” She replied, “However, I do not see how that would have helped matters.” She admitted. Vanskleig smiled, his grey eyes twinkling,

“Ah, but it does help. Quite a lot actually.” He replied with a weary chuckle. He looked around the rest of the Council, “The ability to Shape is a rare one.” He said, “It only occurs once in every three or four Dwarven generations, and has only ever been found in one family line.” He explained, “Few know of the Redhammer Clan, but when they were exiled from Fangthane we believed the ability to Shape had been lost to the worshippers of Moradin and Throff forever.” He tapped his chin thoughtfully, “That is, until young Meredith Gruksdottir displayed the ability; at a very young age as I recall.” He shook his head, “The gift of Shaping is a blessing from Throff, She who found the Magic Clay. It would seem that when the portal to the Abyss was opened, Meredith realised that the only way to close it permanently was using what had since become known as God Clay.” He explained. Selene shook her head as several voices piped up,

“Wasn’t it used to seal up the portal under the Wizard’s Tower?”

“I didn’t think there was any of it left.”

“Where would you even get the stuff from anyway.”

The Grand Magus sighed and slammed her staff on the floor,

“If you must ask questions, do so one at a time!” she snapped, “I should not need to remind any of you about good manners!” The High Priests and Wizards who had stood up to ask their questions all at once sat back down, looking suitably embarrassed with themselves. Selene turned back to the Archlector, who was chuckling,

“Ah, now that’s the young Wizard I remember hearing about ten years ago, I did wonder what had happened to her.” He noted with a warm, grandfatherly smile. Selene bit back an embarrassed laugh as the Archlector proceeded to look around the Council Chamber again,

“As to your questions. Yes, there is no more spare God Clay that we know of, however is not Titan made of the stuff?” he asked. Before anyone could answer, he was talking again, “From what has been described, it would seem that Throff, upon seeing the calamity that was unfolding, granted young Meredith a chance to use Titan itself to seal this new portal.” The Archlector sighed heavily, “Of course, such a casting requires a significant cost.” He looked over to the mace at the far end of the room, suddenly seeming so much older than he already was, “Clearly young Gruksdottir felt that the price asked was worth the safety of Allansia, if not all of Titan.” He said, his voice low and heavy with grief. Silence reigned as the enormity of what had actually happened settled on the rest of the Chamber. That one lone dwarf had sacrificed everything to prevent a disaster worse than had occurred ten years ago from happening again was, clearly, quite a lot to take in. Selene nodded gravely,

“Thank you, Archlector. It looks like we all have rather a lot to reflect upon. Especially given the behaviour of some of the city’s people towards the Dwarven people as of late.” She stood and regarded her fellows, “I think it would be best if we took a recess for the next four hours. When we get back, we will discuss what needs to be done to properly celebrate and honour those who have already given this city so much.” She glanced over to Elowyn and the others as she spoke, striking her oaken staff on the floor and sweeping out of the room. Elowyn ignored the mumble of conversation going on as she approached the Archlector and knelt before him,

“Your Grace, I have a couple of questions if I may.” She said quietly, Aurianna quickly scampering up beside her. The Archlector regarded the Paladin and nodded, waving off his beardling assistants,

“I’ll be alright, I will call when we are done.” He assured them gently. The eldest of them bowed politely and ushered the other outside, knowing that this was a private matter. Elowyn smiled gratefully to the old dwarf,

“Thank you.” She said. Vanskleig motioned for her to sit,

“It is no trouble, child. You are clearly worried about something and wish for guidance. I would be a poor cleric to ignore such a request.” He assured her. Elowyn shifted uncomfortably,

“Darkhide said during the fight against him that… he said Moradin was dead.” She said, trying not to avoid the subject, “I assumed he was merely trying to scare Meredith, but before we left the city, she mentioned that she had not been able to reach Him.” She looked up at the Archlector with worry, “Was Darkhide telling the truth? I thought Moradin had merely forsaken Toreguard following Starhammer’s untimely death.” Vanskleig sighed heavily and leaned back in his chair thoughtfully,

“As a friend of Meredith, I feel safe in letting you know what has happened.” He said, “However, this information is to go no further than us unless it becomes something that needs to be dealt with.” He told her firmly. Elowyn nodded, hugging her knees to her chest by now,

“You have my word Archlector.” She said. The elderly dwarf nodded, satisfied,

“The Dwarven people are currently in crisis, my dear.” He explained, “There is much upheaval occurring at the moment both in Fangthane, and until recently, here in Toreguard. As a result of what has happened here of late, Moradin’s followers have become… unsure of themselves and their faith is wavering. As a result, Moradin is less powerful than He would normally be and is attempting to consolidate Himself.” Vanskleig sighed, “My faith in the Dwarf Father is as strong as ever, my dear, however, I am old and while I have a replacement, I worry for my people following my passing.” Elowyn nodded,

“That’s– That’s some heavy stuff. But I am glad to know that Moradin still exists. It eases my heart just a little.” The Archlector smiled,

“You cared very deeply for her, that much is clear.” He said in a low voice, “When I return to Fangthane, I will ensure that young Meredith is properly remembered by all under the mountain. While she passed far, far too young, she was devoted not just to Moradin, but to her people and her world. Take strength in the knowledge that you knew Meredith for who she truly was, not the legend she will obviously become.” He advised. Elowyn nodded, wiping at her eyes as they welled up again,

“Thank you Archlector, I will.” She replied, getting up and bowing, even as the Archlector called for his assistants.

~*~

Later:

“I ‘eard a little about what happened.” Mrs Higgins said quietly once everyone else had left the kitchen, leaving the Woodling alone with her thoughts. Elowyn looked up at the house’s matron,

“I think the news has made its way most of the way around the city by now.” She said with a weak chuckle. The old human fished out an envelope from the pocket in the front of her pinnie,

“Miss Meredith left this with me before you left to go to Castle Dire.” She said quietly, “Said I should give it you when you got back.” Elowyn took the envelope, her hands shaking slightly as she regarded the firm, almost runic strokes of her old friend’s handwriting. The Woodling nodded to Mrs Higgins,

“Thank you, can you go and fetch me a pot of tea? I think I’ll probably need it after reading this.” She asked in a small voice. The maid nodded in sympathy,

“I’ll go fetch a small pot of brandy to go with as well, dear.” She said, bobbing in a curtsey, before bustling off to the other end of the large kitchen. Elowyn stared at the unopened envelope for several long moments, both longing to read the letter inside, and not yet willing to acknowledge that the dwarf was never coming back. Finally, she broke the wax seal on the back and took out the parchment inside:

Dearest Elowyn,

If you have received this letter, then that means the inevitable has happened. Whatever form this has taken, know that I do not want you, or any of the others, to blame yourselves. When Moradin comes calling, I kind of have to answer Him, right? I wanted to let you know just how much the time we have managed to spend with one another has meant to me.

I know that you love your city and pray to Moradin and Throff both that, once time has had a chance to dull the wounds left behind by this most recent conflict, that our people can live in peace with one another again. I trust that Justice will be done for the atrocities that have been committed, and know that, somehow, you’ll be right there in the middle of it. Please never lose sight of that goal, for I know that it might be the only thing that you have left to cling to when the shadows gather and fate feels like it’s ripped everything and everyone out from under your feet. I tell you this as a reminder. In these last days before we finally face Darkhide, the Light that you have brought into my life has been the only thing keeping me going when I truly believed that I had lost everything.

Even though we have had our differences in opinion, know that I have ever seen you as a Sister and, therefore regard you as kin. No matter the challenges that lay ahead of you, know that I am proud to have stood by your side as you grew from a simple Officer of the Watch into a Paladin that has learned the hard way how to lead and inspire others. Even as both of our peoples face dark and uncertain futures I know that you will be there to help light the way to a better future for all.

Should you ever have need to pass through the lands around Fangthane in your travels, please take the enclosed with you.  It will identify you as a close and trusted friend of the Dwarven people and ought to keep you and your travelling companions safe despite the Grudge that will likely be in place by now.

Stay safe òrdugh piuthar and while I hope to meet you again when you finally pass to this next life, I hope it is a very long time coming.

May the rocks stay ever true under your feet,

Meredith, Daughter of Gruk, Son of Ovak

Inquisitor of Moradin 13th level

The sheafs of parchment shook and drops of water splotched the ink as Elowyn finished reading through the letter. Meredith had clearly known that it was unlikely that she would survive the fight against Darkhide. The Woodling frowned through her tears as she realised that there was something else still in the envelope. She gingerly shook whatever it was out onto the table, her heart breaking even further than she ever thought possible as she regarded the item. It was a simple Mythril necklace with a finely crafted dwarven Warhammer attached to it. Both were covered in intricate dwarven runes. Meredith’s Holy Symbol. Elowyn had seen the dwarf use it often enough to Turn the undead to recognise it immediately.

[druidx]

Incorrect quote tag game!

Tagged by @corkythewriteblr, about this time last year

Rules: use this quote generator & list as many quotes as you like using characters from your WIPs, then tag as many people as quotes you listed.

I decided to do all these from the Fighting Fantasy World of Titan because of that the last 'find the word tag' I did. Also, I'm popping the taglist up here cuz it says do as many quotes as tagees and so this is gonna get long.

Tagging: @strosmkai-rum @spacetimewraithwrites @wildswrites @tetrodotoxincs @odysseywritings @ayzrules @morganwriteblr @my-writblr @bexminx @writingingraves @dreamwishing @aalinaaaaaa @wardenoftheabyss @pleaseloathemyveryexistence @jaguarthecat

Also tagging @aquadestinyswriting because she'll get a kick out of these.

Random criminal: I really like this whole ‘good guy, bad guy’ thing you guys have going on. Farren: It’s not an act, it’s just that I’m mean and Elowyn isn’t

----

Elo: Hey, Yoruk, can I get some dating advice? Yoruk: Just because I'm with Merri doesn't mean I know how I did it.

----

Elo: I prevented a murder today. Aurianna: Really? How’d you do that? Elo: self control.

----

Snotgrut: I think I'm having a mid-life crisis. Farren: You're like 15 years old Snotgrut: I MIGHT DIE AT 30!

----

Elo: How did none of you hear what I just said? Thazar: I’ve been zoned out for the past two and a half hours. Strucker: I got distracted about halfway through. Schreiber: Ignoring you was a conscious decision.

---

Elo: On a scale from “damn Daniel” to “fre sha vaca do”, how are you feeling? Farren: In between “it’s an avocado, thanks” and “how did you defeat Captain America”, but as a solid answer I would say “I don’t need a degree to be a clothing hanger”. How about you, Milli? Milli: Probably “road work ahead”. Snotgrut: I speak many languages, and this is none of them.

---

Elo: This is a mistake Felix, enthusiastically: A mistake we're going to laugh about one day! Elo: But not today Felix, still enthusiastic: Oh, no. Today's going to be a mess

----

Elo: I learned some very valuable lessons from this. Strucker: I’m guessing they are all horrible distortions on the lessons you actually should’ve taken away. Elo: Death isn’t real, and I’m basically God.

----

Elo: I slept for almost 12 hours but I might still be tired so lets go for 12 more just incase. Farren: Elo, that's a coma. Elo: Sounds festive.

----

Merri: I was arrested for being too cool. Snotgrut: The charges were dropped due to a lack of supporting evidence.

----

Felix: Whaddya call a fish with no eye? Snotgrut, not looking up: Myxine Circifrons Felix: Felix: fsh

----

Snotgrut: Okay. I get it. You've had a really hard time lately, you're stressed out, seven people died- Elo: Twelve, actually. Snotgrut: Not the point. Look, they're dead now and really whose fault is that? Elo: Yours! Snotgrut: That's right: no one's.

----

*Quentin and Felix are doing something absurdly dangerous* Felix: I think Houdini did something like this once! Why, if I recall correctly, he was out of the hospital in no time! Quentin, deadpan: Well that's encouraging.

----

Elo: Snotgrut, keep an eye on Schreiber today. He's going to say something to the wrong person and get punched. Snotgrut: Sure, I’d love to see Schreiber get punched. Elo: Try again. Snotgrut, sighing: I will stop Schreiber from getting punched.

----

*Squad reactions to being told ‘I love you’* Enezeag: Thanks fam! Elo: oh no Felix: *cries* I love you too Snotgrut: Sounds fake but okay Laurence: *A flustered mess* Quentin: can i get a refund

----

Felix: Everytime I hear someone talking about updog, I’m torn between not wanting to fall for it and wanting to help them complete their joke. Aurianna: Okay, but what is updog? Enezeag: Updog is a long sausage in a bun, often served with ketchup, mustard, onions, and/or relish. Snotgrut: Not, that’s a hot dog. An updog is when a new version or patch of an application is released. Quentin: No, that's an update. You’re thinking of the fourth largest city in Sweden. Snotgrut: Surely, that’s Uppsala, where’s updog is the giant spider in Harry Potter. Felix: That’s Aragog. Updog is a symbol conventionally used for an arbitrarily small number in analysis proofs. Laurence: You’re thinking of epsilon. Updog is an upward-moving air current. Snotgrut: No, that’s an updraft. An updog is the modern version of a henway. Aurianna: What’s a henway?? Felix: Oh, about five pounds.

[aquadestinyswriting]

Fight or Flight

Summary: Having lost one battle already, Meredith and friends are being transported back to Toreguarde. Unfortunately one member of the opposition sees fit to make sure they never make it back

Words: 775

Tags: @druidx, @sparrow-orion-writes , @homesteadchronicles, @warriorbookworm, @mariahwritesstuff, @writeblrsupport, @ashirisu, @thesorcerersapprentice, @blind-the-winds, @philosophika, @the-down-upside-finch @flashfictionfridayofficial

Warnings: bodily harm tw, fire tw, character death tw

Notes: First person POV. Based on one of the very early sessions of the campaign.

I grumble as I look out of the window of the carriage we’re trundling back to Toreguarde in. As much as I wanted to go back to drag Elowyn out of the cell she’s put herself in –bloody stupid woman. I shouldn’t have let her go on that ‘restroom break’ by herself – I really didn’t want to be chucked in with her. At least we’re, mostly, alive. Though I have no idea what I’m going to tell Elowyn once we’re thrown in alongside her. It doesn’t exactly inspire much confidence in our ability to bust back out again given how easily we were forced to surrender.

Moradin’s balls, the manacles on my wrists are too tight. I grumble some more and open my mouth to complain at the road warden trotting alongside, when I feel the window on the opposite side slide open. The face of our betrayer pops into view, his expression dark. 

“You made your choice.” He mutters before shattering the lit lantern closest to the window, causing the embers to catch the upholstery. So that’s how the little bastard wants to play it, is it? 

Luckily the roadwardens seem to be of the opinion that the carriage being on fire is a problem since we immediately stop and calls go out for water. I cough as I watch Alponse shoulder the door in an attempt to get it open, but it doesn’t budge. I get up to assist, trying not to hack up my lungs as smoke fills the interior of the carriage. 

Flames erupt all around us with an angry roar. I feel a brief dampness on my back seconds before the fire catches onto my vestments and hair. I only barely catch an angry voice exclaiming something over the alarmed shouts and screams of my friends before I’m sent tumbling out of the suddenly open carriage door.

I roll in the damp grass, grateful that it wasn’t bone dry. Luckily, there’s enough moisture to put out the fire on my vestments before I can get too badly burned. I struggle to sit, just in time to see Stringwhiskers – the little ratman that had been following our group these last few weeks– crawl forward a few inches only to stop and lie utterly still. I freeze, my laboured breath catching in my throat. I gingerly lift the sleeve of my vestment to my nose. Lamp oil. 

That traitorous, lying, fespar, saagy, Beskur! I feel a surge of righteous fury build in my chest, but it starts to gutter as I look over to Lorcian. The half elf looks so broken as he gently picks up Stringwhisker’s body. He’s also fairly burnt himself. Perhaps fighting our way out of this isn’t the best idea? We’re outnumbered and I have no idea if the roadwardens are even in on what Daraja had planned.  Not to mention the fact that we had tried fighting earlier and lost. Badly. 

I make to stand only to tumble back to the floor, a searing pain flaring in my side as a crossbow bolt punches into my hip. Panic grips me and I do the only thing I can think of through the pain and roll to my knees and pray as hard as I can.

Moradin. Help me!

I feel a large surge of power move through the magical weave of the world, then hear a raspy cough and a groan. Hang on. I know that groan. I jerk up my head just in time to see the previously deceased, hulking form of Enezeage stir and sit up. The last vestiges of a golden radiance dimming as he comes back to the world of the living. I hear a second gasp not too far away and look over in time to see Alphonse stir and groggily sit up as well. I wait a moment, expecting to hear a third, only to be met with silence. My heart drops slightly, but I’m not about to complain. It’s miracle enough that Moradin saw fit to return Enezeage and, presumably, Alphonse to us. I look back to Enezeage, who’s already charging towards Daraja and the rangers he’d bought out to deal with us. I catch a glimpse of the back of a huge, stout figure clad in armour. My eyes go wide as the image of Moradin himself looks back at me and winks, before vanishing.

I don’t have time to truly process what just happened. More arrows and crossbow bolts fly in my direction, and several find their mark. Alright, so fight it is. As soon as I can wrangle my hands free to cast a bloody healing spell.

[aquadestinyswriting]

A Promise Kept

Summary: Meredith finally has the God Clay, so now all she needs to do is use to to permanently seal shut the Hellmouth underneath the Wizard's Tower

Words: 742

Tags: @druidx, @sparrow-orion-writes , @mariahwritesstufff, @ashirisu , @thesorcerersapprentice , @blind-the-winds , @philosophika , @the-down-upside-finch @flashfictionfridayofficial

Warnings: None

Notes: Many creative liberties have been taken with this short, the actual event in-game wasn't nearly this dramatic. Written for the Flash Fiction Friday prompt 'Seal it Tight'

My mind spins as we’re hurriedly admitted into the wizard’s tower. We’d taken so long to get a hold of the God Clay. What if we’d taken too long? What if I wasn’t strong enough to use it properly and couldn’t seal the hellmouth entirely? What if –

I feel Elowyn’s hand land on my shoulder as we stop in front of the door leading to the temporary seal. The action immediately calms my spiralling thoughts. I wasn’t going to be doing this alone. I had my friends with me and that was all I really needed. 

I shiver as we push the door open. A rush of negative energy washes over us and I suck in a breath between my teeth. We were cutting this awfully close. I’m not sure the others can see it, but the seal is definitely already cracking to my eyes and could break at any minute.

I shuck off my pack, practically shove it into Enezeage’s hands and pull out the jar Drakemar gave us to transport the God Clay in. I look up at my friends, who already seem to know exactly what to do. Felix, Darius and Enezeage take up positions around the little room, while Elowyn stays closer to hand. She smiles at me,

“I know you can do this.” She says as I pop the top off the jar and reach in to pull the slippery clay out of it. I grimace a bit, but steel my nerves and nod, saying nothing as Elowyn takes the jar from me. 

I take the clay in both hands, feeling a vaguely familiar tingle in my fingers as a soft, pale blue glow emits from both the clay and my hands. I kneel in front of the seal as I adjust my grip. I take in a deep breath, murmur a prayer, empty my mind, then cast.

My concentration is almost immediately broken by a sharp pull on my soul. I had been warned that it would do so, but the sensation is jarring. I grit my teeth and shove my panic down, focusing only on forcing the clay in my hands to act as I will it to. 

The pull lessens to a gentle tug, but the clay refuses to cooperate. I push more power into the spell, almost begging the stuff to do something. Eventually it begins to comply, slowly spreading out over the cracking earth in front of me. I can just about hear the demons chittering at my ear. Come on! 

I finally feel the clay reach the edge of the original seal, right as heat emanates from the ground below us and the chittering gets louder. There’s another sharp tug on my soul, hard enough to leave me breathless, before I feel the grip and pull of the clay as it completes its task. I reel back as the connection snaps off and I fall forward, only barely conscious enough to stop myself from landing flat on my face. 

I want nothing more than to lie down and sleep, but at least two sets of hands guide me to a sitting position and a piece of cloth is thrust into my nose and a tankard is shoved into my hands. I groan, not really able to parse what’s going on over the ringing in my ears and complete exhaustion nagging at my everything. Since we’re safe, it can’t hurt to let my eyes rest a bit.

I blink myself back to the physical world at Elowyn’s voice snapping at someone,

“All the Gods’ sakes! Give us a nieking minute, will you?! The woman’s exhausted!” she yells. The noise is enough to rouse my sleepy mind back to some sort of wakefulness. I force myself to sit up a little straighter as a crowd of people jam the doorway, cheering. I take a large swig of the ale that, presumably, Enezeage handed me, before nodding and pulling myself to standing. I can rest properly once we’ve informed the Toreguarde Council that they won’t have to worry about the seal any more. Hopefully, that will be enough to let us move freely around the city again. I look at the patch of grass and flowers that now occupy the area where the seal once was. I smile, before turning to my friends and walk out to face whatever chaos awaits us. I can only pray and hope that we’re up to the challenge.

[aquadestinyswriting]

The Hand that Wields

Summary: Meredith has been asked to set up a Stone Spike ritual to help with catching someone who has been stirring up trouble between the humans and dwarves in Toreguarde. A brief chat with Moradin follows when she fails to spot the assassin still lurking on a nearby roof.

Note: First person pov because this was something that was fully roleplayed out at the time. Creative liberties have been taken because this was before we started recording sessions and I don't recall everything that was said or done. This takes place two days after 'Cracking the Anvil'

Words: 2,137

Warnings: major character death, implied blood mention

tags: @druidx, @homesteadchronicles, @warriorbookworm, @mariahwritesstuff, @asher-orion-writes, @blind-the-winds, @freedominique

The chaos of the last couple of days has taken its toll. I’m jumping at every last damn shadow, thinking it's one of those damn Brotherhood idiots who chased me from the temple of Moradin yesterday morning. I’m not entirely happy with Elowyn’s plan to find this Captain Calico person, but it’s the best one we have, and if it’ll get the Brotherhood off the backs of the other dwarves, then all the better. 

It’s a misty morning, and cold too. I’ve not worn my new vestments in yet and they’re just a touch too stiff for my liking. Not to mention I’ve not had my usual morning Bloc yet. Darius is even less awake than I am, moaning about how damn early it is. I just hope he’s compus mentus enough to keep an eye and ear out for trouble while I get this damn Stone Spike ritual started. I freeze as soon as I step just outside the door. The stiff and still bodies of the people who had taken up guard duty around the watchhouse the previous night litter the street. Dead. Every last one. Shot right through the heart. Darius gasps in horror as he comes up behind me,

“What in the…?” he whispers, trailing off with a gulp. I shove the teenaged human back into the door,

“Go on, we need to tell Elo-”

I never get to finish my sentence. I had just finished shoving Darius back inside, turning to follow him, when pain suddenly erupts in my chest. My ears start ringing and spots cloud my vision as I tip forward. So our assassin friend hadn’t left yet. That was a bit silly of me. I barely feel my body hit the cobbles, can’t hear what Darius has yelled over the rushing sound that’s overtaken everything. I try to take a breath to yell something back to him, but I can’t. Darkness seeps in from the edges of what vision I have left. An overwhelming tiredness sets in and I close my eyes, the last thing on my mind being what a pain in the arse getting bloodstains out of linen is.

~*~

I startle awake, suddenly aware that I’m no longer lying on cold, wet cobblestones. I shut my eyes again with a hiss. The light in here is too bright. Slowly, I blink them back open, pushing myself up. I frown as I take a bleary look at my surroundings. The chairs I was lying on are a construction made of some kind of treated wood and metal, neatly welded together into a long row against a wall. There’s a small wooden and glass table sitting about a foot in front of me, littered with some kind of glossy paper booklets. All of them have pictures of unfamiliar places and people on them and words in bright, bold letters stating ‘Yours’ and ‘Hello’ at the top. In a far corner, blinking erratically with some sort of magic, is a machine of some kind. The words ‘Coffee, Tea, Hot Chocolate and Soup’ are emblazoned across it. There are various buttons, a hatch and some strange cups attached to one side. Next to it is a half-constructed bar, wood piled up in another corner and the back of it shrouded in darkness that I can’t see through. Where in all Creation am I?

A warm breeze, bringing with it the smell of hops, iron and forgesmoke, gently wraps around me. I feel myself calm, the reminder of home and its comforts enough to ground me in a place that is so alien to me. I close my eyes to soak it in, then feel the presence of someone else sitting down next to me. The presence is powerful, but warm, inviting, comfortable and oh so familiar. My heart sinks as the realisation of where I am settles into my mind. I huff a weary sigh as I open my eyes and look over to see a familiar dwarven man wearing ornate full plate sitting next to me. He’s smiling at me under a glossy black beard, adorned with plaits and clasps. His eyes are creased as He looks at me, almost fit to burst with a kind of fatherly pride,

“Oh, ma daughter, ye’ve done so well.” He says, “Ye’ve no idea how proud I am that ye made it this far.” I smile up at Him, 

“Thank you, Lord, to hear ye say as much is deeply humbling.” I reply, “My only regret is that I ended up back in yer presence through my own carelessness.” Moradin shakes His head, clasps and other ornaments jangling at the motion,

“I can hardly call not noticing someone who didn’t want to be noticed careless.” He tells me, “Anyroad, that hardly matters. Ye’ve got a load of people in my hall that canna wait to see ye. They’ve been waiting a while.”  I consider His words, my heart lifting a little at the thought that he didn’t blame me for what had happened, but quickly sinking again as I realised that I hadn’t had a chance to say goodbye to my friends. Not to mention the fact that Darkhide was still on the loose and about to create even more havoc. And what about the problems the dwarven people living in Toreguarde were enduring with the Brotherhood? I couldn’t very well leave them to face whatever was coming without doing something about it. I slowly shake my head,

“I’m sorry, Lord, but I think they’ll need to wait a wee bit longer.” I tell Him, “I can’t, in good conscience, leave my friends to sort out everything going on by themselves. Darkhide is still a threat to everyone and everything I love.” Moradin’s expression softens as He lays a hand on my shoulder,

“And that’s why ye’re here in the Waiting Room and not already in my Hall enjoying yer well deserved rest.” He says. I’m not sure, but I think I saw a brief glint of regret in those bottomless eyes. He sighs and leans back in his seat, the wood and metal creaking in protest,

“Yer friends will probably want to get on with a Resurrection once they’ve dealt with the situation that got ye killed, and they remember that they’re in good standing with a priest that will be more than willing to do it for them.” Moradin says, adding on the latter part with a mutter. He returns His attention to me, “Normally this would mean ye’d lose a bit of power in exchange for the ability to return to the world of the livin’.” He strokes his beard, His great brow furrowing slightly, “I am, however, willin’ to return ye with all the power ye’ve gained intact, provided ye do a little something for me in return.” My heart leaps and I’m almost instantly on my knee in front of Him, head bowed,

“Whatever it is, name it.” I tell him. It doesn’t matter to me what my God wants me to do. The mere fact that He’s offering me an opportunity to carry on His work, to return to Elowyn- my friends- and to fix everything that’s gone so wrong is all that matters at this point. I feel the floor beneath me vibrate as He chuckles and the ring of metal on metal as He pats the seat next to him,

“No need fer all that, hen.” He chastises mildly, “I know who I’m dealing with.” I flush under my beard as I get back up and sit back down, looking and listening attentively while Moradin waves a hand in front of him,

“Right, so I’ve had a word with Wee Jas, and She’s agreed that Darkhide is a problem that needs to be dealt with.” Moradin fixes me with a look. It’s somewhere between pride, regret and something else that I can’t quite pinpoint. I keep quiet as He carries on, “Since Darkhide has gone so far, Wee Jas told me to tell you to bring Her his head.” I frown a little,

“Why me though?” I ask, “Or is it a case of the group in general?” Moradin shakes his head,

“No, lass. Wee Jas asked that you, specifically, do the deed if possible.” He says, “As to why it has to be you, She didn’t say. I rather get the feeling She thinks yer friends might not be up to outright killing the man, given the chance.” I look down at my hands. The Ruby Lady wasn’t wrong. Darius is so young that I doubt that he’s experienced severely hurting anyone, never mind killing them. Felix is very soft-hearted and might not be able to finish Darkhide off by himself. Elowyn is too constrained by the laws of her city and the various oaths and vows she’d likely personally take as a paladin of Justice. The only other person in our group that would outright kill Darkhide is Enezeage. But even then, he often looks to Elowyn for guidance and might well hesitate if he thinks that she might know better. While I might be reluctant to kill, there are crimes that cannot go unpunished, and there are people who are just too dangerous to be left alive. Darkhide couldn’t be contained to a cell for long, certainly not long enough to go through a full trial in the courts. My resolve hardened. I already knew Darkhide had to die in order to save Allansia from his dark schemes, having permission to do so from his erstwhile Goddess would at least save me from the headache of arguing with Elowyn about the necessity of doing so. I look up at Moradin and nod,

“I understand.” I say, “Do I need to actually bring his head anywhere or…?” I ask, suddenly aware that due to the nature of the way some Gods deal with the world that I would need some clarification. Moradin bites back a chuckle,

“No, just killing him will be enough for Her. I did ask afore She left.” I relax, one less thing to worry about then. A door creaks open on my left, a fine mist crawling in from the grey, bleak expanse on the other side. Moradin claps his hands on his knees and stands, towering over me,

“On ye go, lass, don’t want to keep yer friends waiting.” He says, gesturing to the door. I hop off my own seat, briefly turn and bow to my God, then dash out the door as fast as my legs will carry me.

~*~

The first thing I’m aware of is muffled voices, then slowly I’m aware of the hard, cold iron on my back and the soft light of glowstones above me. I groan, my head aches, but I squint my eyes open, only to have several faces try to crowd themselves around me. I wince as the relieved shouts and yells of my friends assault my ears,

“Will all of ye, shut it?!” I yelp, trying to not have the everything happening all at once overwhelm me. The faces retreat as Starhammer shoos everyone away,

“Right, you lot, give her some space. Right, welcome back to the world of the livin’ lass.” The old priest says, helping me sit up and shoving a tankard of beer into my hands in the same motion. I blink away the bleariness in my vision and look around at the relived expressions on my friends’ faces. Well, they’re almost all relieved. Enezeage, much like he did when Elowyn was Resurrected by the old kobold priest ages ago, simply snorts, nods and stays a respectable distance away. Darius and Felix are the first to assault me with hugs, one around my shoulders, the other around my waist, both sobbing loudly,

“I’m sorry! I should have gone first!”

“I was so worried you wouldn’t come back!” Starhammer huffs a sigh, drags the two boys off my body and plonks them down next to Enezeage. I finally manage to take a swig of the beer I was handed and look over to Elowyn. Hey eyes are red, but she’s smiling as she comes over and leans on the anvil I’m sitting on. Aurianna leaps off her shoulder and rubs against me, purring madly,

“Glad to know you wanted to come back.” she says, voice a little raw, “Don’t go scaring me- us- like that again.” she adds. I smirk back at her,

“I’ll bear that in mind the next time someone wants to shoot an arrow through my heart.” I retort. I look down at my vestments, ready to moan about how they’re basically brand new and already ruined when there’s a pounding on the front door of the temple. I suppose I’d better finish my beer before the world forces itself back on me again.

[aquadestinyswriting]

Incorrect Quote Tag Game

I was tagged for this by the lovely @lexiklecksi and am using this generator. This should be fun.

no pressure tags: @druidx, @sparrow-orion-writes , @homesteadchronicles, @warriorbookworm, @mariahwritesstuff, @ashirisu, @thesorcerersapprentice, @blind-the-winds, @philosophika and anyone else that fancies having a go.

Placing all of these under a cut to save peoples' dashes. See my list of characters here as some of them may be from that extended list.

Laurence: Am I going too far? Snotgrut: No, no, no. You went too far about 7 hours ago. Now you’re going to prison.

Birghe, holding a rock: Ugri just gave this to me and said "I feel like you deserve the moon but all I can give you is a rock". Yoruk: If you don't marry him, I will.

^ Meredith (offscreen); Not if I ask him first!

Thaddeus: You know guys, sometimes I feel like Thazaar doesn't take me seriously enough. Dwena: "Sometimes"? Selene: "Enough"? Thaddeus: Selene: Change that to 'at all' and we'll talk.

Elowyn: What do you do when someone offers you drugs? Quentin: Take them! Meredith: Punch them in the neck! Felix: Say thank you! Snotgrut: Offer them more drugs to assert dominance! Elowyn: … Elowyn: No.

Enezeage: Ooh, somebody has a crush Elowyn: Pfft, I don’t have a crush on Meredith, I just think they’re cool, it’s not like I stay up at night thinking about them. *Later that night* Elowyn, very much awake: Uh oh.

Snotgrut: What the fuck. Felix: ESPN is showing 2003 national jump rope championship. Snotgrut: Who the hell watches jump rope competiti- ooh bouncy.

Quentin: We’re kind of missing something guys. Felix: Cohesion? 'Arry: Teamwork? Laurence: A general sense of what we’re doing? Elowyn: And Snotgrut is not here. Laurence: Oh, and that, yeah.

Thaddeus: Hey, Selene? Can I get some dating advice? Selene: Just because I'm with Edwin doesn't mean I know how I did it.

*The gang responding to being stabbed by a sword* Elowyn: Rude. Laurence: That's fair. Quentin: Not again. Snotgrut: Are you gonna want this back or can I keep it?

Meredith: Yoruk kissed me! Birghe: Oh my God! Oh my God! Oh my God! Meredith: It was unbelievable! Birghe: Oh my God! Oh my God! Oh my God! Ugri: Okay, we wanna hear everything. Birghe, get the wine and unplug the phone. Meredith, does this end well or do we need tissues? Meredith: Oh, it ended very well. Birghe: Do not start without me! Do not start without me! Ugri: Okay, alright, let’s hear about the kiss. Was it a soft brush against your lips or was it like a, you know, “I gotta have you now” kind of thing? Meredith: Well, at first it was really intense, you know? And then, oh God, and then we just sort of sunk into it. Ugri: Ohh... So, okay, were they holding you? Or were their hands on your back? Meredith: First they started out on my waist and then they slid up and then they were in my hair. Birghe and Ugri: Ohhh. *meanwhile* Yoruk eating pizza in their house: And, uh, and then I kissed them. Kidri: Tongue? Yoruk: Yeah. Kidri: Cool.

Selene: Snotgrut, can I ask you a question? Snotgrut: You just did. Selene: Okay, can I ask you two questions? Snotgrut: You just did. Selene, frustrated: OKAY, CAN I ASK YOU FOUR QUESTIONS?! Snotgrut: You just did. Selene: When?! Snotgrut: Just now.

Selene: Due to personal reasons, I will be fucking sinking to the bottom of the ocean in a large metal box. Dwena: Did Edwin say 'I love you' and you said 'Thanks'? Selene: THE REASONS ARE PERSONAL–

[aquadestinyswriting]

Puzzle of the Heart

Summary: After finally getting the book the party has been sent to Khull to find, Meredith finds she can't sleep due to her conflicted feelings for a certain woodling rogue-just-turned-Paladin. First person pov because that's the only way this makes any sense.

Words: 992

Tags: @druidx @homesteadchronicles @asher-orion-writes,@warriorbookworm, @odysseywritings, @blind-the-winds , @thesorcerersapprentice ,@writeblrcafe , @ashirisu

Warnings: None. Fluffy fluff is vey fluffy

Notes: Not entirely happy with the title, but it'll do for now. Set in an earlier part of the Destiny's New Servants Campaign, so Merri is still kind of feeling out Felix and Darius at this point. I recall that the fight mentioned in this one took place less than a week after Elowyn died to a giant dire weasel and was resurrected as a vassal of Kurtulmak.

I huff out a tired sigh as I turn over yet again. It's been a long and very stressful day, so why can't I get to sleep? I open my eyes and my gaze falls onto Elowyn's back. The lassie's fast asleep and has been for what feels like hours.

I can't help but feel relieved to know that she's still here, still breathing, still living. It was only thanks to Vespus' sacrifice and Father Remulos' intervention that any of us made it out of that crypt alive. It’s not like it’s an unusual situation for us, though – we’ve been in plenty of scraps where any one of us could have died before – so why did this instance bother me so much?

My mind flashes back to when we first confronted the half mechanical monstrosity that had taken up residence in the crypt. The way it had turned around and instantly started gibbering about revenge against Elowyn, for reasons only known to it. I don’t know why, but something about the way it only seemed to fixate on her had made me so incredibly uncomfortable. I mean, at least Enezeage had the excuse that he had been tasked with Elowyn’s safety as well as mine by Starhammer during our escape from Toreguarde. So why did I feel that swell of indignant and protective fury? I mean, I’d understand it if it were Yoruk, but why did it come up in that way with Elowyn? I’m not interested in her romantically. It’s not like I’m not protective of everyone else here either. Anyone threatens Darius of Felix, they’re getting a Flame Strike straight down the gullet, and I’d at least ask ‘Zeage if he needed a hand or some healing before stepping in. It’s no different with Elowyn… isn’t it? I let the thought sit for a moment and realise, no, it’s not. For any of the others I’ll do everything I can to make sure we all get out of it alive. For Elowyn, I would willingly die in her place if I had to. 

I shift again as my arm starts to fall asleep, still keeping my bleary eyes locked on Elowyn’s back. My stomach squirms uncomfortably as I remember how I felt immediately after the woodling’s death at the paws of a giant dire weasel only a week or so ago. Perhaps it was because the deaths of Lorcian and Alphonse were still so recent, but I recall the way my heart shattered when Elowyn’s screams were cut off by that sickening crunch. I roll onto my back and stare up at the ceiling of the church we were temporarily staying in. The symbol of Pelor greeted my eyes, almost glowing in the dim moonlight that seeped through the cracks in the windows. While I was no devotee of the Dawnfather, the sight of the symbol calmed my anxious heart. I reach for my holy symbol, taking it out from under my vestments and gazing at it with a weary sigh. Too much had happened in just the last month or so for me to truly process it all, but I needed to continue to dust myself off and carry on. Too much was at stake for me to wallow in self doubt and pity. And yet, I needed to figure out what was going on with my muddled feelings towards Elowyn if I hoped to carry out the duty I had been sent out of the mountain to carry out. From what little of the book we’d found in the crypt I’d read before we settled down to sleep, I needed to have a completely clear mind and conscience to even manipulate the God Clay properly. I couldn’t very well do that if I was still figuring out my relationship with one of my closest friends. 

I take a deep breath in and whoosh it out as quietly as I can manage, turning my holy symbol in my fingers as I think through everything that had transpired between us. We worked well together, that much was brazenly obvious. Not just in battle, but in more day to day interactions with the rest of the world. We were basically sisters in all but blood at this point, given everything we’d been through so far. Alright, so I could at least say for certain that there were no romantic feelings involved. That was a good start all things considered; it would have made things incredibly awkward otherwise. Not to mention the agony of having to choose between the love I'd found on my travels and the love I'd already promised myself to. I lie quietly for another moment or two before an old dwarven phrase enters my mind; Cridhe-dàime. It wasn’t a phrase that was commonly used, especially to describe a relationship with another who wasn’t a dwarf. It was laden with so much meaning and was so specific to dwarven culture, was it really the appropriate phrase to use with regards to my feelings towards Elowyn?

The confused sea of emotions calms the moment I think of the words, my heart filling with the warmth of loving contentment. The little hammer in my hands grows warm to the touch too, an indication that Moradin clearly approved of the idea. Well, that settles it; if my own deity sees no problem with my referring to Elowyn as my Cridhe-dàime, then I had no reason not to. I look back over to the woman sleeping on the bedroll next to mine, a wave of sleepiness finally hitting me. I tuck my holy symbol back underneath my vestments, there would be time to sort out the rest of what this all meant in the morning. For now I’m just grateful to actually get some damn sleep before we have to find our way back to Fangthane. My eyes finally flutter closed and I sigh happily as I drift off into, hopefully, dreamless slumber.

[aquadestinyswriting]

An Unusual Discussion

This is actually based off an old tumblr post someone made an article out of earlier this year. As a person with an honours degree in biology, it really fascinated me, and since the dwarven women on Titan also have beards, it made me wonder if anyone outside of their culture even knew why. It prompted this little short at any rate.

Some minor warnings for implied nudity and implied wlw shipping by another character

Elowyn nervously cast about as she finished stripping down and stepping into the frigid water of the underground lake. Meredith snorted from where she had already ducked her head under and was pushing her unbraided hair out of her eyes,

“Ye gettin’ in or what?” she called gruffly. The Woodling shot her friend a sharp look as she finally waded into to pool,

“I’m just making absolutely sure we’re not being watched.” she sniped, “The last thing I want is a repeat of what happened earlier.” Meredith bit back a chuckle as she reached for the washcloth she had left on the shore of the rockpool,

“I did ask Enezeage to keep them away this time.” she pointed out, “Not much is getting past that mountain o’ muscle.” Elowyn grumbled, shivering as she waded further into the water to better wash off the grime of their latest fight,

“You do realise that they’re not much taller than I am right?”

“D’ye really think that’s gonna make a difference? I’m only, what, six, seven inches taller than you?”

“More like nine, Merri.” Elowyn huffed, briefly ducking her head under the water and gasping as she came back up from the shock of how much colder the water was here. The dwarf shrugged and tossed another washcloth in the rogue’s direction,

“My point is, ‘Zeage is much more perceptive than ye’re givin’ him credit for. Also, given how much they seem to respect ye, I very much doubt the Kobolds’ll even give sneakin’ up on us a first thought never mind a second.” Elowyn sighed as she  finally relented,

“I suppose so.” she conceded, “It still never hurts to be vigilant.” 

“Aye, I’ll give ye that.” Meredith nodded, “But that’s what we’ve got the lads for. Now relax an’ enjoy this will ye? We dinna get to do this as often as I’d like.” Elowyn rolled her eyes a bit as the Dwarven Cleric leaned against the rocky side of the pool with a contented sigh. The Woodling cocked her head thoughtfully,

“You sure you’re done with the soap?” she asked, watching as Meredith began lazily rebraiding her hair. The Cleric paused briefly and stared at her friend with a somewhat confused expression,

“Aye.” she replied slowly, clearly unsure where the conversation was heading. Elowyn shrugged as she grabbed the bar with the washcloth and began vigorously lathering it into her hair,

“I just figured that with how fastidious dwarves seem to be about their hygiene generally, that it just occurred to me that I’ve never seen you wash your beard aside from when we first arrived in Fangthane.” she pointed out. “I don’t know, it just seems a bit strange.” she added as Meredith frowned in confusion.

“Now why would I do a thing as silly as that?” she asked, “The only reason it got washed when we first got here at all was because o’ the state it was in after bein’ half burnt off.” Elowyn blinked owlishly, pausing in scrubbing at her head,

“You mean you don’t wash it on a regular basis?” she asked, “Doesn’t it get, I don’t know… itchy under there?” Now it was Meredith’s turn to look utterly confused,

“Well… no.” she replied, “At least no’ after it’s started growin’ in properly at any rate. For the most part, once ye’ve got yer beard proper it just kinda… looks after itself.” Elowyn hummed briefly, tapping her chin thoughtfully,

“It just seems a bit strange is all. I mean, I’ve heard about the guys on the Watch that have beards moaning about them occasionally and wondered why I hadn’t heard similar complaints from you the whole time we’ve been travelling.” Meredith frowned some more and looked at her beard as she stroked her hand down some of the braids she had kept it in,

“Ours must just grow differently then.” she mused, “I just ken that to be entirely shorn is basically a death sentence to a dwarf.” Elowyn snorted,

“Because of the whole’ honour’ thing?” she asked, snorting slightly. Meredith sent her friend a slightly offended look,

“That’s only because it actually is more or less a death sentence, hen.” she said, her voice low. “I mean, ye’ve never wondered why ye’ve never seen a shorn adult Dwarf despite Dwarf Shaving bein’ somethin’ o’ a pastime for Orcs?” Elowyn slowly shook her head, wondering where Merdith was going with this. The Cleric heaved a sigh, “I suppose that was a silly question.” she groused before shaking her head and carrying on, “Those Dwarves that have been shorn and then returned to their families end up dyin’ no’ long after because o’ severe Lung Fever or other diseases o’ that nature.” she explained. “Somethin’ aboot no’ havin’ their beard any more makes them incredibly susceptible to lung infections and diseases. It’s the same thing for those poor sods who, for whatever reason, canna grow their beards in properly.” Elowyn’s eyes widened in horror,

“I… had no idea.” she mumbled, “So that was why…” Meredith nodded gravely, unconsciously running her hand down what had been left of her own beard,

“Aye. I mean, the cultural shame is bad enough, but I’m fair glad I was able to salvage at least this much.” Both women’s heads snapped around as a deep, gruff voice called out and echoed around the cavern,

“I know women tend to take forever to get themselves washed up, but this is ridiculous.” Enezeage’s voice thundered, “I’m giving you both five more minutes, and if you’re not out of there by then, I’m chucking your armour in with you as a clue!” There was a few seconds of silence followed by, “And while I appreciate that the two of you might like some ‘Alone Time’ that can wait until we get back to Fangthane!” Meredith simply rolled her eyes and waded back to the shore,

“Yeah, yeah! Alright ya big galoot, we’re comin’. Dinna get yer knickers in a twist!” Elowyn, meanwhile flushed bright red and blustered for a minute or so before she followed Meredith out of the pool, trying not to look as though she wanted the ground to swallow her whole. She decided, then, it was probably best to never have such interesting conversations while bathing again… or perhaps just bathing alone from now on. Yeah that was probably a better idea.

[aquadestinyswriting]

A Quick Introduction to the rest of the Found Family

In between bouts of playing TES: Oblivion and various online versions of tabletop roleplays, I’ve been writing some pieces relating to earlier points in the Titan Fighting Fantasy adventure. Since the characters involved belong to other people I’ve not done full-on introductions to them. However, to provide context as to who these people are in the upcoming posts, I figured I may as well give you all a brief introduction to Meredith’s rag-tag group of friends that she hung around with for so long (and a few who turned up later)

Felix ‘Nosy-Parker’ Tinker: A Gnomish Sorceror turned Arcane Trickster. He’s a friendly and personable sort, almost to the point where it’s genuinely frightening for those not used to it. Felix never really intends to do any harm to those he frightens, but it can be unnerving to have someone be so unabashedly… nice when you’ve done horrible and terrible things. He is also somewhat obsessed with making things for the others, usually some form of underwear (this can be traced back to the Giant Dire Weasel Incident). While Felix can come across as not all that threatening due to his friendly demeanour, the little fellow is a powerful caster and not too shabby a shot with a crossbow. Since averting Ragnarok, he’s settled down with the love of his life and started a family (the first in the group to do so).

Darius Wesker: Darius was a young Human Sorcerer who followed the party as the baby of the group until his untimely demise at the hands of a type of flesh golem experiment. He was treated much like a younger brother by Elowyn and Meredith, who took it upon themselves to make sure the teenager was kept as safe as possible while travelling with them, so his death hit them particularly hard. Despite his young age, Darius was a powerful Sorceror, though being your typical teenaged young man he had a tendency to make poor decisions that landed him in a lot of trouble. This included; gaining the attention of some ne’er do wells connected to Darkhide, learning about the horrific things that exist just beyond the veil of reality and subsequently seeing them absolutely everywhere and finally, almost completely destroying a legal case against an Dwarven Ooze Master who had threatened to poison the whole of Toreguarde using ale and beer spiked with oozes to escalate the conflict between the dwarves and humans by using a Compulsion spell to get the confession out of the prisoner in question (luckily an actual confession was extracted from the fellow afterwards and Darius got a very stern talking to).

Quentin Goldenrose: An Elven Ranger Hailing from the Forest of Night near Mythrilmar. Quentin is a friendly man and loyal to his friends. He’s a practical fellow who enjoys teaching others some of the intricacies of his work and is often the one the others turn to when they need traps to be set or to deal with the local wildlife. He taught a group of three troublesome young men and mentored them. They had enough respect for Quentin that they knuckled down, stopped causing trouble and found jobs for themselves as part of the Toreguarde Military not too long after. His current companion, a large Dire Elk called Maris, was acquired during a trip to Vynheim. Said Dire Elk had previously been the companion of a beautiful elven woman, who was discovered to be leading the poor Quentin on in order to murder him and his friends after getting some information relating to the fall of Moradin’s Anvil to the Material Plane. This was, naturally, something of a disappointment for Quentin and Elowyn to discover (as the woodling also found said elf incredibly attractive, but became suspicious due to her questions about the group’s activities) but he was more than happy to allow Maris to accompany him instead once her previous owner had been dealt with. Following the events at the end of the campaign, he returned home and became a leader of Vigilant Glade.

Enezeage: A Half-Orc Monk who was much broader than he was tall. He, along with Elowyn and Meredith, was the last remaining member of the original party that was tasked with saving Toreguarde from the troubles plaguing it by Drakemar’s Emissary, the others having drowned in the depths of Fangthane after the group was chased out of Toreguarde the first time (we don’t like to talk about it). Something of a loud-mouth, but with the skills to back up his boasts, he was the only member of the party who was actually able to drink Merri under the table. ‘Zeage was an accomplished martial artist who was able to best most of the enemies that assailed him and his friends, though during the latter half of the adventure, he spent more and more time in the quasi-dimensional realm of Githzerai. Sadly, the great galoot met his end at the hands of several fire elementals that had been summoned into Toreguarde to herald the beginning of Ragnarok.

Laurence Tate: Despite what Felix may tell you, Laurence was a (Human) Cleric of Olidammara who offered his services to Lady Elowyn and her friends following Darkhide’s defeat and Meredith’s departure from Toreguarde. Laurence was very much an Artiste, who tended to use his words as his weapons, though he was more than capable of wielding a rapier if push came to shove. Unfortunately, he had a bit of a knack for causing trouble, the culmination of which ended in half of the Toreguarde Council being blown up by a Fireball cast by a Firre (a type of Elven angel) that he’d petitioned for aid. Following a meeting with the Emerald Dragon of Kar Kherril, who Blessed the party with various divine favours for finding and mending the Anvil of the Dwarf Father, Laurence left the party to reflect on his choices and actions thus far and to go on a personal journey of enlightenment and atonement.

Snotgrut: A Goblin Rogue turned Arcane Trickster that asked if the party was hiring the day after Darkhide’s defeat. No one was really sure where he’d come from or what his deal was, but they agreed to let him come along. Snotgrut proved to be an invaluable asset to the group. He’s a keen-eyed shot with a crossbow and is sneaky enough to elude even Elowyn’s sharp eyes and ears. He is also smart. Very smart. Over the course of his journey with Elowyn and friends, he learned around six or seven different languages, learned both human and dwarven law to help get his friends out of legal trouble and spent more time in the Wizard’s Tower learning new arcane tricks and lore than he did at Acacia Avenue. While Snotgrut is smart, he is somewhat lacking in the common sense department and still has some difficulties with social interaction with those he does not know well (he had a knack for exasperating the various authority figures he needed to answer to because of his social cluelessness). Following the events at the end of the campaign, he became a member of the SRU and now works directly under Elowyn as a Lieutenant Second Class.

‘Arry: Originally a large Warg that had spent several years journeying with Snotgrut before meeting Elowyn and company, ‘Arry has since been transformed into a very large Awakened Wolf thanks to a divine favour granted by the Emerald Dragon of Kar Kherril for his help in finding and mending the Anvil of Moradin. ‘Arry, much like Snotgrut, is a little lacking in the social niceties department, but unlike the goblin, ‘Arry doesn’t really care all too much. He’s actually fairly laid-back and would much rather sit down and have a chat while getting belly rubs and scratches behind the ears than ripping people’s faces off, which disconcerted a lot of people during the latter part of the adventure. He began his training as a Druid partway through his adventure and has now dedicated his life to serving the Emerald Dragon as her Guardian.

Thannan Greydown: A human druid that travelled with Elowyn and friends just after Laurence’s departure and assisted in averting Ragnarok. Not much is really known about him, aside from his familial connection to Yastromo’s teacher and mentor. He is a gentle soul, one who is happier providing advice and encouragement than taking any hint of the spotlight. When it comes time to fight, however, he is more than capable of holding his own. Thannan is a powerful member of his order and is capable of wielding spells of immense power, though more often than not he prefers to take the form of various large beasts and elementals to crush those who would dare to hurt him, his friends or nature. After averting Ragnarok, Thannan travelled back to the Freezeblood Mountains to continue his vigil and has not been seen or heard from since.

[aquadestinyswriting]

Fangthane’s Folly- A Pre-Story Overview

Since Fangthane’s Folly is based on a D&D campaign that has long since finished and takes place between Merri leaving the group and the latter parts of the campaign story, I figured it would be a good idea to give everyone some context as to what was going on with the party before the beginning of the story. I’m still working on the new prologue, it’s just being persistently difficult at the moment. This is a long post, even after attempting to summarise everything, because a lot happened so it’s all under the cut

The portal to the Pit is sealed and the party are celebrated by General Strucker, Grand Magus Selene and those who are just glad that the city isn’t going to disappear into the abyss any more. The rest of the Toreguarde Council argue over whether or not to have Merri, Elowyn and Enezeage arrested, but they’re stuck down and the full party is free to wander the city once more.

The party find out about all the stuff that happened while they were gone, find out about some weird people, end up crashing into Mythrilmar, almost get sacrificed to a massive demon spider, escape, find out about Deep Sachellas and go back to Wyrmholme to get given the rest of the God Clay to go deal with that. Once more, Merri has to stop herself from getting stabby at the guy giving her the stuff.

The group go on their trip to Arborea and resurrect a God. They spend a week or two on the plane before heading back to the Material Plane and get roped into sorting out plenty of other issues that have cropped up in their absence, including dealing with vengeful ghostly apparitions and a plot to poison the humans of Toreguarde with Ooze-ified beer by now former Inquistor Grimbeard and family.

More stuff hits the fan after a bar fight gets out of hand and a dwarven acolyte of Moradin is killed and pinned to the temple’s front door. So begins the ‘dwarven apartheid’. During this Merri is promoted to the rank of Inquisitor, various other people are killed and someone tries to have Merri assassinated (and succeeds, but it helps when you have the High Priest of Moradin on call for such things).

The group go on a trip to the Freezeblood mountains for a few weeks to go to a ancient temple to see about a sword for Elowyn (which becomes moot since she has her own one made before the group leave the city). They help a few villages with problems with disease and the incursion of Mindflayers as well as Inter-Planar constructs and extra-planar entities infesting dragons. The Kobolds that have been following Elownyn are judged by a gigantic Gold Dragon called Judgement, who essentially Blesses them with Goodness. Eventually the party heads back to Toreguarde after Darkhide pays them a visit and taunts them.

Once back in the city, the party have their arguments and discussions with the various Important People about their plan to deal with Darkhide and his armies and the Cabal that has joined him. Meredith witnesses Starhammer’s death and is chased by the Brotherhood to the Grove of Obad-Hai, where she makes a deal to deal with the remaining Ooze Masters in exchange for Sanctuary. The day after this, the battle is fought and the day is won, though for the party, the victory is somewhat hollow given the problems the city still has. Merri up and leaves the next day without telling anyone, but leave her friends some letters.