terraisnotonfire-blog

[terraisnotonfire-blog]

Erin, Chapter 2

A warm breeze lifted Erin's cloak as the leaves of the nearby copse of tress rustled, the dapples of sunlight intermittently dancing across the pair of lone figures laying prone  on the knoll.  The dark green cloaks combined with the visual cover provided from the shade made them hard to spot from a distance, only the occasional glint from a crossbow gave them away. But none of the guards atop the wooden ramparts were looking in their direction.   Both of the crossbows were trained  on the door of a cabin in the middle of the makeshift fort, and they had been for quite some time.  Long enough for the smaller figure to become restless.

"So, you uh, you ever handled one of these before."  Jess motioned his head towards the crossbow in his hand before looking at the one in her hand.

"Shh, we're supposed to be quiet." Erin  hissed at her mousey companion.

"Oh come on, we've been sitting her quietly all morning, I'm bored.  If we were gonna be spotted, it would have happened by now.  A little bit of whispering isn't going to hurt anyone.  And who the fuck knows how much longer those two will be.  They probably got lost."

"Yeah, you're probably right. . . No, I haven't.  Only ever had what I could make with my own hands. Well, a friend forged the steel for the daggers, but I made the hilts and sheathes.  Same friend forged all my arrowheads too.  But everything else I made myself." "What about that armor, its awfully fancy, where'd you get it?"

"Made it myself too.  Parents were tanners and leatherworkers, they taught me everything I know.  I make little things here and then, coin purses, wine skins, caps, simple stuff I can manage on the road and use the proceeds to purchase supplies."

"Your work is truly incredible, if you're so skilled, why become an adventurer?"

"What is this, an inquisition? Your turn, you first, why did you become an adventurer?"

"Well, I came from a small town. Parents were simple woodworkers.  They taught me the family trade, same as yours.  But it never fulfilled me.  I never really latched on to making furniture.  I could make a chair and it would hold you up like a chair, but I had no passion for it.  Not the way that you do with that armor.  Truly exquisite, I could never pull of something so inspired."

"If you think my lust for leather always runs this deep, you are mistaken.  This armor and these daggers only look as good as they do because they are things I care about.  The bags and hats I churn out are bland as can be.  I make them because I gotta eat."

"Fair enough.  Then you understand why I turned to adventure.  Making furniture would have allowed me to survive, albeit simply due to the basic designs of my work.  But it certainly wouldn't allow me to live.  I need something more.  I want to make a name for myself.  Especially one as bland as mine.  There is a Jess in every city I go.  Jess the baker, Jess the butcher, Jess the barrel maker.  Its time to give average old Jess's like me someone to aspire to."

"You know its not all bad having an average name.  If there a million Jess's in the world, you can be any Jess you want to be and no one will know the difference."

"Interesting idea.  But personally I prefer to stand out, rather than blend in.  So one day shortly after turning 18, I left my parents shop one day, bought a crossbow with the money I saved up, and set out on the road to adventure, in hopes that one day the name of Jess the Mighty will be known across the land.  So what about you?"

"Well you know most of it by now. Even from a very young age, looking to my future and seeing the life of a leatherworker filled me with nothing but dread.  So when I was a kid I would sneak out in to the woods to practice archery with this crude bow I'd constructed.  My mom found out and rather than get mad she helped me.  She started teaching me how to make armor instead of saddles.  She brought me to the town bowyer to teach me how to make a better bow.  She bandaged every cut and scrape I got.  But as supportive as she was, I could tell it worried her.  So I stayed with them for a while.  On her deathbed she urged me to follow my dreams. And since I didn't have any one left to worry, I set out for Innastorm, and well, here I am."

"Oh I'm so sorry for your loss." Jess's brow sunk as he placed a small furry hand on her shoulder

"Its okay, it wasn't sudden or anything, I had already made my peace.  I've more or less moved on already.  But sometimes I still miss her.  And so I write in this journal as a way of telling her what's going on.  She said it had some sort of enchantment on it that would let those important to you hear your words.  I don't really know what that means but I know shes important to me so I hope my words ring out to her wherever she might be."

"Wow, sounds like you had a really great relationship with your family.  Can't say the same.  All they ever wanted was me to take over the family business.  Never cared about my future or ambitions.  Just wanted me to make beds and cabinets and shit.  Ugh.  If I never see another gouge, it'll be too soon."

"That's unfortunate that whatever skill you accrued would just go to waste.  You shouldn't let your contempt for your parents affect other aspects of your life like that.  Maybe your problem with woodworking isn't the work, but what you were making with it.  The times I'm happiest while leatherworking is when I'm making something thats gonna help me in a fight, like this armor or my quiver.  Maybe you could take a crack at something more you?  Your hands are quite deft, I'm sure you could make something beautiful if you set your mind to it."

"An interesting thought.  I suppose it would give me something to do around the campfire at night.  Imagine the irony of becoming a great adventurer while also surpassing my father as a woodcarver.  The look on his face. . . . You have given me much to think about."

"Well don't think too hard, wouldn't want you to hurt yourself."

"Wow, Erin, I think you should leave the witty retorts to me.  What are you gonna start mocking me in a silly voice next?"

"what are you gonna start mocking me in a silly voice next?" she replied in a horribly nasal voice.

Jess chuckled slightly.  "I don't know why but that made me laugh.  Good job.  Now about your wolf, how did her eye--"  Jess's query was interrupted by the sound of splintering lumber.  They both turned their attention to the southside of the bandit camp.  The gate had been broken down and a large man stood where it once resided, a couple of bodies at his feet.  Atop the wall lay two dead guards and the garishly decorated figure of Loramir.  The other guards on the north end, as well as those stationed around the camp immediately began to descend on the pair.

"Show time." Jess raised his crossbow and began firing at the guards on top of the wall, a moment later Erin had her's up and was doing the same.  They fired one after another, knocking bandits off the wall like milk bottles in a shooting gallery.  Before long, they were gone, leaving only the swarm of bandits on the ground storming towards Volfram.  Loramir vaulted off the wall and landed with a graceful tumble next to his comrade.  They squared up back to back as Erin turned her crossbow towards the men.  Jess nudged her with an elbow. "Remember the plan.  I'll focus on the front door, you focus on the back."

"Shouldn't we help them though."

"I don't know, looks like they can handle themselves.  I get the distinct impression that they've done this kind of thing before."

Erin watched with equal parts horror and fascination as the pair set to laying waste to the mob surrounding them..  Volfram swung wide with huge cleaving blows, his greataxe rending men asunder with a single swipe.  Loramir, while ducking and weaving out of the way of Volfram's brutal strikes, delivered precision strikes to those nimble enough to avoid the more overhanded tactics of his partner.  It was a symphony.  A bloody gory symphony of violence and symbiosis.  They had already put a sizable chunk in the horde and showed no signs of slowing down.  "Yeah I guess you're right."

"Come on out you coward.  Show us your fucking face.  I hope you make that same stupid expression you have on your wanted poster."  Jess anxiously tapped his fingers on the trigger guard as his gaze kept alternating between the door, and the leaves of the nearby tree, watching the wind, measuring it. This was nothing new to him, he'd done it a million times before. He'd made a hundred trickier shots.  This bandit had made his escape for the last time.  Because now he was dealing with Jess the Mighty, sharpest eye in the land.

Suddenly, the door flew open and a man came rushing out.  Same crazed eyes, same wild hair, same slack jaw, same incredulous expression.  Yep, this was him.  This was Gerald the Yellow.  He frantically looked back over his shoulder as he ran, to make sure the two attackers were unaware of his escape attempt before, asured of his success, he grinned a cocksure smile, and began to sprint towards the woods.

"There he is, what are you doing, shoot him."  Erin frantically turned her attention away from the door and began to point her crossbow torwards Gerald.

"It's okay, it's okay, I've got this.  Believe it or not you're not the only marksman around here." Jess took one last glance at the trees to judge for any last minute wind adjustments, narrowed his focus and steeled his resolve One shot. . . he exhaled as he pulled the trigger.  One-- The slam of wood on wood interrupted his mental one liner as the bolt he fired narrowly missed the target and hit the wall of the fort instead.

"Ugh fine I'll do it."  Erin began to focus on the target

"It's not my fault I missed, you nudged me at the last moment.  Give me some space, I got this."  He threw out his arms in an exasperated manner, a motion to empty his personal bubble.  Erin took the message and scooted over.  The target was farther now.  About 150 yards.  He was free of the fort  and beginning to get in to the trees.  It was now or never, he'd be in too much cover by the time he loaded another bolt.  This was a tricky shot.  One that only a true master could pull off.  The kind of shot he lived for.  He smiled. Once again Jess measured the wind, adjusted his aim, and steadied himself.  One shot, one kill. He exhaled as he pulled the trigger.  This time the bolt soared through the air with grim determination.  Jess watched on with increasing satisfaction, his smile growing wider as mere moments before its impact, Gerald turned his head to see the object soaring directly towards his head, but only quick enough to watch it embed itself several inches deep into his forehead.

With the target dealt with, both Jess and Erin turned their attention back to their party members to see a literal piles of dead bodies at their feet, the pair of warriors seemingly unscathed.  Erin climbed down from the cliff and made her way over to the pair, as Jess headed in the opposite direction to collect the body of their bounty.  Erin arrived to find the duo recapping their fight

Loramir wiped down a dagger as he chuckled to himself.  "Oh man do you see that one dudes face when I stabbed my dagger through his chin and it came out of his mouth.  He was all like 'What's this thing, that's not my tongue, its supposed to be red and soft, not silver and metal.  I'm a dumb bandit who doesn't know how getting stabbed works.'  Ha, what a fucking moron."

"Most of the guys I kill just look sad.  Like they see me and they know that they're going to be one of the countless dead bodies that lies between me and whoever I'm here to fight.  Its like this horrible dread of knowing your fate and not being able to do anything about it.  At least thats what I reckon.  Don't really get to ask em many questions.  I just know if I looked like them, and saw someone like me chop five of my friends in half with a single swing, those are the kinds of thoughts I would have, and thats exactly the face I would make while I was having them."

"Ah maybe, but the tricky ones, the ones that avoid that initial swing, they think they're gonna be the one to get through.  They're so goddamned sure of themselves, they think they can do anything because they dodged one attack.  And then I show up to wipe that smug look off their face when they find themselves with plus two daggers to the hearts, and minus a lot of blood."

"Hey so what took you two so long, you were supposed to be here hours ago, at dawn before the guard change."  Volfram and Loramir broke from their conversation to address Erin, who had now arrived at their scene of unspeakable carnage.

"VOLFRAM RIPPED HIS PANTS!" Loramir barely managed to contain his amusement long enough to get the sentence out before being overcome with racous laughter.

"No I didn't!" Volfram's voiced boomed over Loramir's

"Yes he did!  He farted so hard he ripped his pants."  Loramir barely managed to get the story out between fits of giggles.

"I didn't fart, it was the chair."

"Big boy here was getting up from breakfast, and as he does he lets out this massive blast that knocks over his chair and rips his pants."

"No the sound was coming from the creaking of the wood. When my pants ripped it startled me and I bumped the chair which is why it fell over.

"Then why did your pants rip, oh great Lord of Thunder?"

". . . because I'm big."

Loramir had finally regained his compusure, his cheeks and stomach aching from laughing to hard.  "So long story short, we spent all morning trying to track down pants his size because most stores don't carry Extra Gargantuan."  She was not an empath, she had no mental ability to understand another's mind, and yet somehow Erin could actually feel Volfram's embarrasment.  "So how are things on your end, how did the stakeout go?"

"Everything went well.  We were never spotted. When you came in, they were so focused on you that we were able to handle the lookouts without drawing any attention to ourselves."

Loramir grunted as he planted a foot on the chest of one of the bandits and pulled one of his throwing daggers out of his ribcage.  "And what about the target."

"And what about Jess, is the little guy alright."  A look of worry came over Volfram's face as his eyes darted around for any sign of the Muridian.

"Oh yeah he's fine.  And target is down.  Jess is going to get the body.  But I wanted to talk to you about him.  I think he missed on purpose."

"I thought you said he got him." Loramir looked puzzled.

"Well he did.  But on the second shot.  The first one he fired before Gerald even got outside of the hideout.  It was an easy shot and he missed.  I think he did it on purpose.  I think he wanted to show off.  He claimed I nudged him and he wouldn't let me take the shot.  That's some pretty risky behavior right there."

"What so I'm confused.  Did he shoot the target or didn't he?"

"Well yeah he did, but--"

"Well then who cares.  He got the job down, that's all that matters.  If he wants to have a little fun and challenge himself, more power to him.  He's the batshit one. That's his job.  Keep things interesting."

"I don't know, you elected me the brains of this group, I think that maybe—"  Her concerns were interrupted by Jess's surprisingly deep and booming voice.

"Hey guys, I could use a little help."  The trio looked over to the north end of camp to see an exhausted Jess dragging the body by a foot, its head face down, a narrow rut carved in the dirt where the bolt in his face had scraped along the ground."

"Okay but look, he's also really cute.  He's so tiny and little but he tries so so hard, I just want to pick him up and squeeze him."

"I get the feeling you'd wind up with a crossbow bolt in the face if you tried."  Erin scoffed as she put her reservations aside.  Its clear her worries were falling on deaf ears.  And she did have to admit he was cute.  Maybe cute wasn't the right word.  But looking at him, something about him just made her smile.

"98, 99, 100." Jess finished counting out his gold before placing it back on to the table in front of him and glaring at it dissatisfactorily.  "Ya know, when I joined up with a group called the 'Magnificent Monarchs" I was expecting bigger jobs than this.  This probably won't even cover a week's bar tab."

"Relax Jess, there will be bigger jobs."  Loramir paused from cleaning his fingernails with a dagger just long enough to give his friend a reassuring nod, before returning to his work.  "This was sort of a . . . trial run. Had to see how the two of you would preform in an actual mission. Figured a simple thug like that was as good a place as any to see how you two measure up.  Great work out there by the way."

"Yeah there better be.  One with a bit more action, too.  You and Volfram got to have all the fun."

"Not ALL the fun, I heard you made quite the shot.  Real marksman stuff out there."

Jess cocked an eyebrow and grinned. "Yeah, I reckon I did.  But look, no more of this little baby "My First Quest" bullshit.  Look at my fucking scars.  Look at my aim.  I need something bigger."

Volfram interrupted the long quiet love affair he'd been having with his fourth ale.  "Yeah well we 'ad to try out the new girl, and well, as boring as it mighta been for ya, Erin's plan worked wonderful.  Gerald the Yellow has fled the last twenty times some one 'as tried to apprehend 'im.  So I reckon that’s a job well done.  To the Magnificent Monarchs!"  

Erin raised her glass of cider and clinked it. Before taking a swig.  "Oh you're too kind Volfram."

"Oh its nuffin.  Ya did real good today.  Loramir won't admit it but even 'e wuz impressed.

"Do you mind if I ask a question?"

"Go fer it."

"What's with the team name?"

Volfram turned to face Loramir who had done the same.  They shared a look and a single bemused snort of laughter.  Loramir then turned back to Erin, as Volfram returned to his drink.  "Oh, just an old inside joke between the two of us."

"Well, let's hear it."

"Honestly, its so old, I don't even remember the story that well anymore.  And to be honest, its not really that funny in the first place.  We were just stumped for a name and alliterative names were in at the time."

"why not change it then?  Seems like keeping a fad team name that references a joke that only two members understand and barely laugh at is just weird.

"Yeah, but that's what its always been.  And what would you call us?  Something inspiring and serious I imagine.  Like the Ironheart Brigade or something."

"Nah, I got something better. And I think you'll like it."

"Okay, prove me wrong."

"The B Team."

"Really?"

"Hear me out.  Okay well, last night after coming back from the tryouts, I spent a lot of time asking around about the different adventurers that come through her, the different plaques on the well, all that kind of stuff.  And I realized something.  The teams most likely to die are the ones usually considered the strongest at the time.  Usually at some point along the way, someone will come along with a quest too dangerous. That strongest will come forward believing themselves capable, and then die in the pursuit.  Then a militia gets involved and the problem is solved.  Then before long, some other team starts to get seen as the strongest, the recognition goes to their head, and then the next time someone comes along with a dragon, they've got it in their head that "no actually, we can do this." and they take it on and they die.  And it just keeps happening over and over. On top of that, I was kind of amused about your philosophy on the 4 B's--"

Loramir's face immediately lit up as the cogs began to turn.  "Ah, so The B Team is a reference to my amazing wisdom, while also planting in everyone's mind that we are second best and freeing us from the pressure of ever taking on a job too big."  He grinned, not because of his own words, but someone else's.  Unusual.  He turned to Volfram  "Whattaya think?  The B Team?"

"Works for me."

"I dunno, it really belies my greatness."  Jess mulled it over for a moment as he took a sip.

"Oh hush, there is plenty of glory to be found in second place.  And you can't have glory when you're dead.  Plus, you're outnumbered three to one."

"Fine, The B Team it is."

"TO THE B TEAM" Loramir raised his glass once more and the other joined suit.  But instead of the gentle sound of four glasses clinking, the room was instead filled with the sound of a door being kicked wide open.  The four turned to see a large imposing figure standing in the doorway.  The first thing that was noticeable was her muscly red-skinned body.  This was probably because so much of it was showing.  She was dressed more or less in the traditional garb of a paladin of Nerva, Goddess of War.  Sandals with knee high leather straps, armored skirt, intimidating plumed helmet, and her spear and giant shield were no doubt being held at the door.  The only differences were the fact that on her helm were three holes, two to allow her horns to poke and a third farther back that allowed here to replace the traditional red plume with her own hair, a ponytail of the purest white.  The other odd thing was that her chest was tightly bound in white linen.  Even as undressed as she was, Nerva's follower's weren't known for even this level of modesty.

"Hello, are you the Magnificent Monarchs?"

"We were up until about five seconds ago, how can we be of assistance?"  Loramir took a drink from his glass before finally lowering it, as Jess and Erin followed suit.

"I am a paladin of Nerva, as you can no doubt tell.  I have been tasked on a great mission from my lady.  All I know is that I am supposed to follow a wolf to victory." With that, Princess, who had been occupied with a bowl of various meat chunks all night, perked her head up at the sudden attention she seemed to be receiving.  Erin, taking notice of this scratched her between the ears

"Oh I don't know how liable ol Princess here is to lead you to any sort of victory.  You're more likely to wind up in the trash if you follow her."  Princess whimpered, as if she recognized the insult.  Erin smiled apologetically and began to double down on the head scratches.

Volfram, who had sat stunned the entire time, eyes locked on the new arrival, finally lowered his drink.  "Well, I fink its a great idea.  The merrier the more I always say.  I mean the more the merrier."  He went to take a sip and missed his mouth overcome once again by overwhelming clumsiness.  Women like her always made him feel more self conscious. He kept trying to look away but there was something about their perfect elegant powerful bodies that he couldn't turn away from. And the longer he looked, the smaller he felt.

Jess, poured the last of his drink into his mouth before overturning his cup on the table.  "Two things, One, I need a new drink, and two, how does she fit in to the B Team?'

Loramir sat for a moment, as if flipping through pages of a book in his mind, before his eyes lit up once again.  "Easy, she's our bonus."

Journal Entry 2

I did it!  I completed my first quest!  Well, by I, I mean we.  The B Team, that's what we're calling ourselves now.  Loramir really seemed to like my name suggestion.  He's kinda cute when he realizes I'm right.  So anyway, we took out this thug who's been robbing people.  They said he would camp out in an area and demand the people nearby give him money, lest they be met with violence.  Real basic stuff, we got the fucker no problem.  So anyway, this other woman ended up joining the party today.  Really badass, break you in half type.  Seems to be Volfram's type too.  He couldn't take his eyes off of her.  I thought that maybe he might have a thing for me with the way he came to my defense during tryouts, but maybe he's just a nice person.  Oh well, not that big of a deal.  I didn't become an adventurer to find love, I became an adventurer to become the greatest hero this land has ever known. Well, I guess I'll have to compete with Jess for that title.  He spent all night telling the story of how he singlehandedly eliminated every bandit in the fortress with a single well placed shot each to any bar patron drunk enough to stay and listen.  If he keeps it up, it will be impossible for anyone to not hear about him.

[terraisnotonfire-blog]

Oh hey I got cute btw

[terraisnotonfire-blog]

Knell Chapter 1

Knell took a moment to stretch as she got out of bed, her green skin and bulging muscles taut as she lifted her arms over her head and released a mighty yawn, bearing her short tusks. She rubbed the sleep from her bright red eyes before running a hand over her bald head. It was starting to get stubbly, she ould need to shave soon, when she got the chance. She looked over to the other bed to see it empty and her companions possessions gone. He was probably already enjoying breakfast. She took a few minutes to throw on her traveling clothes, a light brown jerkin that went down to her knees, and a pair of heavy leather boots with fur lining. She tightened the laces on her jerkin before throwing a traveling pack over her shoulder and grabbing the giant two handed maul leaning against the wall beside the door.

She arrived in the dining area to find her companion sitting at a table alone, enjoying a bowl of some kind of soup. He was a large man, some would say a behemoth.  Towering several feet over the average man, he was a solid mass of nothing but muscle, draped in furs and hides. The exposed skin and its network of criss crossing scars told the story of many battles. Perhaps most note worthy was the long jagged one on his face, running down the left side, disrupting his tribal tattoos and intersecting with his eye, upon which he wore a tattered old eyepatch. His brown hair,which was pulled back in to a short ponytail, was graying, as was his braided beard. His sullen blue eyes stared at Knell as she walked in as he gestured to a full bowl of soup on the opposite side of the table he was sitting at. Knell walked over throwing off her pack and setting it and the maul against the table before sitting down.

"You, uh, you were out awfully late last night. Anything interesting?" Volfram peered up from his food long enough to raise an eyebrow before continuing to shovel food in to his maw.

Knell blushed as she rubbed her bald head. "Oh heh heh. No nothing like that. There were a couple of traveling performers here last night. They were really cool guys so I decided to hang out with one of them last night."

"I see" Volfram mused between bites.

"No, I swear. We just talked awhile. Swapped stories. Shot the shit. Ya know just--" Before she could finish her thought a pair of men burst in to the common room of the inn where they were dining. One of them looked to be ill or in pain and was being supported by the other. Knell locked her eyes on them right as they came in, after a moment of recognition, her eyes grew wide and she immediately turned her head down towards her food as the threw up the hood on her cloak. Volfram took notice of this and looked up to see what had caused her reaction. His eyes followed the pair as they exited the room,walking right past Knell as they headed out the door.

"These performers from las tnight. They by any chance a Sardonian looking man and another guy who looks like the night sky stuffed in a gaudy red and gold robe?

". . .yes." Knell didn't look up from her bowl.

"Wow Knell, I knew you could be exhausting to listen to, but I had no idea you could do that to a man just by talking."

Her head shot up, whipping her hood back in the process and revealing the deep forest green her cheeks had become. "He wasn't like that when I left, I swear. Gods,how many time do I have to tell you I'm not in to guys."

"Then why is it that I never see you with any girls.

"Girls are uh. . .hard to talk to."

Volfram froze, the spoon already halfway to his mouth. He squinted at her as he pursed his lips,reading her. After a few moments he shrugged and popped the spoonfull of breakfast soup in his mouth. "Whatever, no skin off my back." Despite the constant noise of an inn at this time of morning, a deafening silence reigned over the table for the next several minutes as they each ate their meals without looking at the other. Finally Knell broke the silence.

"So know that I'm ready to be an adventurer, what do we do first?"

"Well, I already submitted the necessary paperwork on your behalf already so need to worry about all that, you are already an official adventurer under the Angry Squid Adventuring Hall.  So I figured first thing would be to head over to the hall and see if we can fill out our numbers some more. Look and see if there are any interesting jobs while we're at it."

"Anything you had in mind?

"No no. This is your show. It's your first day as a real adventurer. Which means it's gonna be up to you to pick our first quest."

"What if the new recruits don't like the job I pick?"

"We get different recruits. Don't worry it will be--" Suddenly one of the men from before,the one in red and gold robes, burst through the door again, he rushed to the back hallways where the sound of a door being thrown upon could be heard, followed a few minutes later by the sound of it slamming shut and the man charging back through the inn, this time clutching two daggers. "I feel like there is probably a story there."

Knell stared at the door that the man had just slammed behind him, lost in thought. "I hope Deimos is alright." She turned back to see Volfram staring at her once again, bemused grin on his face. "God you are such an ass. I'm outta here, see you at the Angry Squid later." Her spoon clattered as she dropped it in to her bowl. She stood up, grabbed her pack and her walking stick leaning against the table, and walked out the door, flashing her middle finger at Volfram as she left.

*****

Volfram arrived at the Angry Squid to find Knell staring intently at the quest board. He spent a few minutes at the bar, exchanging pleasantries and catching up with the gnomish barkeep Sawyer, before ordering a pint of mead and walking back over to Knell. "You find anything interesting."

"No. Its all turnip thieves and deliveries. Not a single village in peril or vip in need of protection."

Volfram took a long noisy sip from his mead. "Well that's unfortunate. Any one of note on the party board?" He strode over to the board on the opposite side of the wall, staring at it intently.

"No. They all read like someone trying to apply to work at a bank."

He scanned the board for a few moments, taking another sip. "I see what you mean. Well, its to be expected. Its only natural that the most interesting quests and people get grabbed quick. If we want a shot at grabbing either,our best bet would just be to sit around her, wait for something interesting to--"

For the third time in less than an hour, there conversation was interrupted by the strange man in the red robes bursting through the door. Both Volfram and Knell watched as he approached the bar and began frantically conversing with Sawyer, the sound of their conversation lost in the early morning din of the adventure hall. After a minute the gnome looked over to Volfram and called "Hey wolf boy, this guy says he's looking for you."

Volfram looked over to his partner,cocking an eyebrow. "Well, looks like things just got interesting."

*****

"So let's start at the beginning. How do you know my friend?" Knell steepled her arms as she propped her elbows on the table and rested her chin on her interlaced fingers.

Saros looked over at the large man in the corner as he twiddled his thumbs under the table nervously. "Why can't I just talk directly to him?"

Volfram looked up from the axe he was polishing. "She's my protege. Its her first day on the job so I'm letting her lead things. You don't like it, there's the door. Now, I suggest you answer my friend. Why is my name on your lips?"

Saros turned to face the orc woman in front of him, but his attention remained focused on the man in the corner of his eye. "A while back my father and I were traveling North out of the kingdom of Alfard. We stopped in a little village to perform and maybe grab a bite to eat, I think it was called Mangold." Saros watched as the muscles in Volfram's neck tensed as the grip on his axe tightened. "There was a girl there,named Erin. I helped her out with something. She said I owed her a favor and if we were ever in Innastorm and we needed help to go to the Angry Squid and ask for Volfram."

"Oh yeah, Mangold, I--" Knell was cut off by Volfram clearing his voice loudly, she looked over to see him glaring angrily. "Right. How do we know you actually met this Erin and you didn't just pull her name off of one of the plaques in here." Saros looked around the room at all the various plaques and trophies that lined the walls. There was one that read Jess the Mighty, another partially defaced one read Loramir the Wise. Another particularly large one read Volfram Dragonsbane. He turned back to the orc woman, his vision once again transfixed on Volfram.

"S-she said if I ever wanted to ruffle Volfram's feathers I could c-call him F-faolan." Saros dropped to the floor beneath the table as a hand axe went sailing through the space his shoulder had been a second ago., hitting the wall with a loud THUNK.

A voice cried out from the next room. "VOLFRAM!! RULE NUMBER ONE!"

Volfram got up from his seat and yanked the hand axe from the wall as he yelled back, "Aw stuff it you lecherous old hobbit."

"I'm a gnome, not a hobbit." The voice cried back as Volfram returned to his seat and began polishing the blade of the axe he just threw.

Knell peered under the table to find Saros still curled up in the fetal position. "Nice instincts."

"Yeah. She also told me I should duck afterwards." Saros climbed back up on to the chair and looked over to see Volfram grinning slightly. He wasn't sure whether to be more or less nervous now. Knell looked over to him as well and Volfram gave her a nod.

"The big man buys your story. So, what's this favor?"

"My father, Deimos he was attacked last night."

"Is he okay?" Knell's voice suddenly shifted from mild interest to genuine concern as her posture straightened out.

"No. He, uh. He turned to stone."

"Fuck, that's horrible. I hear its really painful. But there's really not a lot we can do to help with that. Temple of Cinna should be able to heal him. If you need help transporting him there, we can offer that, but that's not really our thing."

""He's there now. Or, the statue of him is. We got him there before he finished turning, but there was nothing they could do to stop it. They said it was both a venom and a curse and they couldn't reverse one without reversing the other."

"I'm sorry but that kind of thing is completely out of our depth as well, not really the curse removal types either."

"That's not what I want your assistance with. You see, before my father turned to stone, he asked me to retrieve his favorite knife."

"Ah I see. And where was this knife last seen.

"Impaled through the hand of the man who attacked my father." Volfram let out a bemused chuckle. "Please, this was the one thing my father asked of me before he turned to stone. But I do not know this city, I do not even know where to begin to look. Erin made it sound like you have sources of information."

Volfram got up from the large throne in the corner of the room as he sighed "Yeah, I know a guy. Let's go."

It was a busy day in Kwix's shop. Customers milled about the store examining the numerous items on display. Occasionally one would approach the counter he sat at and ask to examine one of the more impressive items he had on display behind the counter. He'd pull it down from the wall, which was often easier said than done for such a small Goblin, and tell them about all the special powers or defenses it imbued its wielder. They'd ask how much, he'd give them a price at which point they'd always hand it back acting as if it wasn't quite what they were looking for, but it was obvious that whatever they were looking for was well outside their price range. Magic items aren't something fresh off the boat adventurers can afford.   And yet they always asked.

He couldn't complain too much though. Business was great. He still had plenty of mundane items to sell to the average consumer. He also did very well selling more exotics tuff, like dragon scales and chimera blood, to the wizards and artisans from the noble quarter. 10 years ago he'd been holed up in a little shack in the slums until a mysterious woman had changed his fate by selling him her magical items for a pittance. He'd turned that around and within a few shorts months he actually owned a business in the Trade District. And these days, he was one of the most preeminent place to shop in all of Innastorm. Yeah things were good. But something was missing and he wasn't quite sure what it was.

He needed something else to keep him occupied today. He called Pinkie, one of his employees over to the counter, and then headed in to the back office, closing the large wooden door behind him. He grabbed a book off of one of the shelves on the wall and tossed it up on to his desk before climbing his stepstool up into his chair where he plopped down, his head the only thing visible from the other side of the desk. He grumbled as he gave the lever on it a few pumps, someone had been sitting in his chair again. It was probably Pinkie, she was always using it without permission. Once his chair was back at the correct height, he picked up his small pair of reading glasses and with a long, slender, clawed finger, he slid them up his long hooked nose, resting the arms on his large batlike ears.

There wasn't really much higher he could climb here. He had employees handling most of his work now, hell he could hand the Keys over to Pinkie and things would still keep running.. He'd already expanded his current location as much as he could, even adding on a second story, but he had gotten to the point where his supply was outpacing demand, there just wasn't enough business to be had in this town. Thoughts of what to do now plagued his mind,distracting him from much more beneficial work he could be doing instead. He tried to focus on the ledgers. It was one of the few jobs he still handled himself. Not that he didn't trust his employees to do it. He just liked it. Something about the numbers dancing together and combining, growing ever larger in their fanciful display. He liked numbers. He understood numbers. He wished he understood magic. He looked up from the book over to the large compendium on his desk. It was open to an entry about a magic box that contained a horrifying cat mummy that did its master's bidding. He had seen one once. Carried by a Muridian no less, no doubt for the irony. He looked at it and sighed, lost in thought, he idly twiddled the blue and silver amulet that hung around his neck with his thumb and forefinger

Suddenly the sound of very heavy footsteps heading to his office returned his focus, and he stuffed the necklace beneath his shirt as he turned back to his ledgers,attempting to look busy as any good businessman should. And without a knock, the door flew open, the doorway filled with a man almost as big as the door he had just kicked open. This was intentional, it was a hard earned lesson. Kwix sighed as he made a dramatic show of setting down his fountain pen and closing his books before taking off his glasses and rubbing his temples, "Can you watch it with the doors? I'd hate to have to bill you if you got splinters in my suit,I'll have you know this suit cost me--"

"7800 gold pieces, I know."

Kwix exhaled a small sigh of frustration. "How can I help you Volfram?"

"Need info."

"Of course. What is it this time? Monsters, ancient tombs, misdeeds of nobles, ancient--"

"Daggers and poison."

"Poison huh? That's a new one. What are you needing to now?"

Volfram grunted "Just come with me."

Kwix sighed dramatically and rolled his eyes, "Ugh fine." He smiled a little once Volfram turned around. He'd been dying for an excuse to get out of this stuffy office.

Four figures gathered around the statue of Deimos. The clerics had moved him to a small prayer garden with a promise to Saros that they would look after him. It was a simple gesture truly appreciated, it was one less thing to worry about with the threat of hooligans defacing or damaging his father in some way removed from his mind.

"So uh, why didn't they just chop his arm off?" Kwix inspected the stone as he mused.

"I-I do not know. I think maybe he thought I could reverse it some how. I think he puts too much faith in my abilities. His dying wish was for me to reclaim his dagger, which was last seen in the hands of the man who attacked him. I think he believed if I found him I would also find the cure. My father, he had a very peculiar way of expressing himself. He could never just come out and say what he really wanted. But I have no idea why he was attacked much less by who. I do not know how he expects me to find this man or find the cure for this horrible thing."

Knell pushed off against the marble pillar she had been leaning against, the loud sound of stone grinding against stone pierced the air as the column slide a few inches in response, causing Knell to wince briefly.  She rested a reassuring hand on Saros's shoulder.  "Deimos is a good man and a wise man and he was right to put his faith in you.  I see why he trusts you so much.  This will get fixed.  And I'll do everything in my power to help make that happen. "  The air grew quiet from the tension that the sudden serious turn in the conversation had caused.  A few awkward moments passed before Knell clapped her hands and chuckled awkwardly.  "So uh yeah, I figured if we found out anything more about the poison it might lead us to the attacker or the maker of the poison and we could find the knife that way." Saros turned to look at Knell as she spoke, this got her attention and she found herself suddenly looking away and at the ground for some reason as she kicked at a few weeds.

"Well deduced. Well I can tell you this much, the stone appears to be a special type of blue granite which lucky for us is rare and only comes from Alfard and Cortierra,so that narrows it down a bit. You said he was able to grab a piece of cloth, yes?" He held an outstretched hand towards Saros who deposited a piece of black material in to it. Kwix ran it through his fingers a few times, before holding it up to the light and turning it over a few times. He gave it a few sniffs, before holding it up his ear and rubbing it a few times.

"It's a very thick fabric, meant for colder temperatures. It's black obviously, but its so incredibly black its almost impossible to discern any details about it. I picked up a faint whiff of pine sap. The material is very well made,designed to be nearly silent. My guess is this wasn't some random attack, this was an assassin, and he was sent from Alfard, and that is likely where he has returned to, at the very least that is where you will find whoever hired them. The fact that your father was able to retaliate at all and wasn't long dead by the time you arrived means either your father was very good, or this is a very bad assassin who somehow got their hands on some gear that is very very good. I can't tell you much more than that, but it likely means whoever paid for this assassin paid quite a bit. I don't know who in Alfard could afford to hire him, and which one of them would have motive. My knowledge in that regard is lacking, my info on the doings of nobles only extends as far as the city walls of Innastorm. But my guess is that you will find your answer in Alfard's capital city of Carth. That's where all the money lives."

Volfram uncrossed his arms and placed a hand on Saros's shoulder, and broke his silence of the last 30 minutes. "Well kid, there you go. Your assassin is in Alfard. Knock 'em dead."

Knell suddenly pivoted towards Volfram. "You can't be serious, you're not gonna bail already."

Volfram, whom had already began walking away, stopped and turned back around. "What, Kwix usually charges a ton for this kind of info analysis. That's a pretty big fucking favor."

"He still needs our help."

Volfram grunted. "Assassins with unknown motives from other lands means political intrique. Political intrigue mean lots of talking and not a lot of smashing. I'm no good when there is nothing to smash."

"You said I got to pick the first job. And this is the job I picked."

Volfram crossed his arms defensively. "Well we still need new recruits. Splitting night watch two ways is a real son of a bitch, trust me, I know."

A star-like mote of light suddenly appeared inches from Volfram's face nearly blinding him, he attempted to swat it away to no avail. Saros cleared his throat and spoke up. "I would go with you of course. I know some magic."

"Still, that's only three. A proper party needs at least four members, ideally five."

"I might have a solution for that." The sound of Kwix's voice startled the trio who had already forgotten about the presence of the small green figure. "Let's head back to my shop.

Kwix's legs and feet flailed uselessly as he struggled to reach for the contents at the bottom of the ches the was hanging over. Eventually he decided his dignity was already gone, so he just climbed the rest of the way in and began rooting around. He found a backpack which he tossed up towards Volfram who snagged it out of the air deftly

"Hey new guy, did you know I can do magic too?" Volfram held the bag open with one hand, and stuck his other hand in, pushing it deeper and deeper, past the wrist, the forearm, the elbow. Finally he got it all the way up to his shoulder, his arm seemingly vanishing within the small bag.

"I am not a simpleton, I know what a pocket dimension is. And the name is Saros. Saros Aerglo."

Volfram chuckled, "Yeah, I have no idea what you just said, we need to do something about that accent. What is that Sardonian?"

If any pigment could be seen on Saros's skin, you would have seen him blush. His lilting tone of voice and the ways words rolled along his tongue had felt natural to him, but as his father's travels had taken them farther and farther from their homeland, he had noticed his speech feel more and more out of place. It made him uncomfortable and he hated the reminder of just how alien he was.

Saros was smacked in the face by a second bag that he fumbled to grab as it fell to the floor. Once he had it in hand, he took a moment to inspect it. The front of the Bag was emblazoned with the words Kwix Kit. It was light, as if it was empty, but shaking it produced a rattling sound as it it was full of various items.

"That's one of Kwix's failed business ventures. Turns out anyone who needs a bag full of basic adventuring supplies can't afford a Pocket Dimension, and any one who can afford a Pocket Dimension already has all the adventuring supplies they need." Volfram pulled a few misc items from his bag to demonstrate, a shovel, a lantern, 50 foot of rope, a waterskin. Saros reached in and pulled out a ten foot long pole.

The Kwix emerged from the chest a moment later with a third bag. He walked to another chest, and retrieved a couple smaller bags, these ones were different, clearly visibily full of contents and made the unmistakable jingling sound of gold pieces. He led them back in to the main room where he grabbed a few large items and then slid open the large glass display case beneath the front desk and grabbed a few more items before holding the bag up towards Volfram. "Switch me." Volfram grabbed the bag from Kwix and handed him the empty one. Kwix locked eyes with Volfram as he did so, clutching one of Volframs massive fingers with his long claws. "Guard it with your life."

"Are you gonna tell us what your solution is yet." Volfram grumbled in response.

"Isn't it obvious, I'm going withy ou."

"Alright!" Knell pumped a fist in excitement

Volfram snorted in dismay "Do what now?"

"I'm sorry what point did you not understand."

"You're a shop keep."

"Yes, but a very well equipped one." He waved a wand at Volfram for emphasis before stuffing it in to the bag. "I've been thinking about expanding my business for a while. Setting up a new location in Carth sounds like the ticket. I'm sure you can see how this is a mutually beneficia larrangement. You'll need someone to gather information when you get there, I know you and Knell ain't the ones for the job, I don't know the first thing about you star man, but I definitely know I can hack it, and you know it too. Plus that means more info resources in thefuture, and wider catalogue of items. In addition, I would outfit this group. After all, your survivability improves my survivability.  This only works out well for you, yes?"

"Yeah, okay fine, but you better pull your weight and I get dibs on all your stuff if you die."

"That sounds fair," Kwix held up a hand, and Volfram held out a large meaty finger. Kwix grabbed it and pumped it a few times eagerly. "So after that's all done, where to next boss?"

The voice of Knell's voice caused his head to turn to face her, "Well, uh, I figure our best bet is to use some sort of tracking or detection magic to see if we can track this cloth back to its owner. Does anyone have any suggestions on how we could do that? Saros, do you have any spells like that?" "Unfortunately no, I specialize in the summoning of extraplanar energies."

"How about you Kwix, you got anything in this store we could use."

"Well I just sold my only scrying orb about three weeks ago, so that's a no from me as well."

"And you Volfram, any suggestions."

Volfram sighed as he crossed his arms disapprovingly. "Yeah, I know someone. But you're not gonna like it.

*****

Journal Day 1 Well it's been an interesting 24 hours. Last night Volfram finally told me I was ready to be be an adventurer, we would just need to flesh out our party and then we'd be ready to undertake a quest. Fucking finally, I've been dying for this for months. I know I've been ready for a while, he's just not seen it. So last night I went out to celebrate, and there were these two wicked street performers. It was a father and son duo, it was the fucking greatest thing. The dad did all this cool acrobatic and juggling shit, and the son did all these really cool illusions, made things disappear and reappear, move things without touching em, it was wild. All without using a spellbook or rod or wand or anything. He didn't even have to chant, it was crazy. And it just so happened they were staying at the same inn. Man I wanted to hang out with Saros so bad. I fed them a line about needing a room for the night. The dad bought it but then Saros took off so it was all for naught. I talked with him for a bit. He's a good man, he loves his son. He told me stories of their travel, I tried to tell him stories about my training but I got nervous so I bolted. I wish I hadn't,  I would have liked to talk to him some more. I would only see him one more time, briefly, before he turned in to stone. I got my chance to hang out with Saros but its at the expense of him losing his father. I know its not my fault, but I can't help but feel guilty for being thankful for this opportunity. I'm a shitty person. Fuck.

So as it turns out an old friend of Volfram's owed Saros a favor and he's cashing it in with us, and know we're hunting this guy down all the way in Carth. Volfram's old friend Kwix, I don't know if friend is the right word, business associate? I get the feeling they owe each other so many favors at this point no one's really sure who's more in debt at the moment. So he talked himself in to joining us on our journey, so know we've got four. We spent the rest of the day outfitting ourselves as well as filling out all the paperwork to ensure the quest and all party members were approved by the Adventure Hall. Tomorrow we head southeast to find another old friend of Volfram's in hopes we can get their assistance. Volfram doesn't seem too pleased by the prospect. Guess we will see why tomorrow.

[terraisnotonfire-blog]

Volfram Prologue

"And so I said, that is not a gelatinous cube, that is my wife!"  Everyone else at the table exploded in to uproarious laughter as Deimos finished his joke, except for Saros whom merely chuckled awkwardly.  He didn't get the joke, he seldom did on nights like these.  It had been another successful day in the life of traveling perfromers, and they were celebrating in Deimos's preferred fashion, getting very drunk.  There was a time when things were tough, but these days, the father and son duo did quite well for themselves.  Their food was always hot, and heir beds were always warm, that is, except for when Saros didn't choose to sleep outside under the stars instead.  He felt a kinship with the night sky.  It made him almost feel like he belonged.  A feeling he had thought he felt as a child, but not once since.

Saros didn't look like anyone he knew, not even his dad.  He had deep indigo skin, so dark you would think it black at first.  His skin was mottled by speckles of white, except for his face which had only one large solitary dot on his forehead. But that was by far not the most interesting part of his lean, angular, elflike face, that honor went to his eyes. They were swirls of color and sparkles, like two galaxies far away twistied in the night sky.  He often wore bandanas and headcoverings of that sort to hide his hairline, or lack thereof, for instead of where hair should be, where black shoulder length tendrils about a fingers width each. From a distance, one could easily confuse them for dreadlocks, so he wore the bandanas to complete the illusion, as well as decorate the tendrils with metal cuffs and leather bands.  He wore multilayered, flashy gold and red robes, adorned with colorful trims, sequins, and tassels, a distracting wardrobe to divert attention from the far more outlandish looking person inside of them.

Deimos could best be described as ruggedly handsome.  His long mane of silky dark brown hair seemed to wave in a non existent breeze at all given moments.  His golden brown eyes were like two limpid pools of honey.  His immaculate smile, and impressive jawline were framed by a light scruff of facial hair. When he chose to wear a shirt, he often wore one with a a deep neckline and billowy sleeves he could roll up to showcase his glistening, tan physique.  Chiseled by the gods, and blessed by a higher power were phrases often spoke to describe his body.  But actions speak louder than work, and the way women acted around him spoke volumes.  They were putty in his agile hands.  It was often common to see him surrounded by a flock of women, and tonight was no different.

"You guys were great out there"

"Huh" Saros turned to see a large orc woman sitting next to him.  His swirling blue eyes locked with hers

"Oh, uh," she nervously scratched her bald head, her cheeks deepening to a darker shade of green as she looked away.  "I was just saying, I saw the two of you perform earlier.  It was really good."

"Oh thanks."  

"How did you do that thing with the goblet?  It was like real magic, but there wasn't any spellbooks or runes  or hand signals or chants or nothing."

Saros chuckled nervously "A good magician never reveals his secrets."  His secret was that it actually was magic, a magic that seemed to come from within.  It was a unique talent he had never seen anyone else possess, and one he strived to keep a secret.  And what better way to hide it than in plain sight.

"You know, I just got in to town, and I don't have a place to say.  I just checked and all the rooms are full.  Any chance you'd want to share a room."  She tried her best to remain stoic and only slightly interested in the proposition she had offered, but a mischeivous grin crept on to her lips.

Saros rolled his eyes.  It hadn't been the first time that he had been used by women trying to get closer to his dad, and yet he was constantly foolish enough to believe it would be the last, and so each time it was like a fresh wound.  He sighed with great exasperation as he grabbed his plate and stood up.  "Why don't you just ask him yourself?"  He then turned, found an empty table in the corner of the room, and moved to it.

Saros never did well with women.  He always felt anxious whenever he spoke at length with one alone.  He often ran out of things to talk about, resorting to pleasantries about weather or current affairs.  He could feel their stares judging him inferior.  Their gaze penetrated through his garish wardrobe and affectations and saw the real him underneath, the freak.  Just like tonight.  The orc woman had been staring at the freak, and as soon as he engaged, she got embarrased and looked away.  It was an occurence he had grown used to.

He found himself much more comfortable talking with men, he could converse with them much more easily. Except for when they talked about women, as they had started to do on this night.  That was one topic upon which he had a hard time relating, choosing instead to nod and mumble "Yeah" noncomittally until the topic changed.  But tonight he didn't feel like talking to anyone.  He had a lot on his mind.  

The goblet trick had gone well, really well in fact.  So why hadn't Deimos seemed as impressed by it as anyone else.  Was his dad upset because someone else was getting all the attention.  Was this what the future of their relationship held? Envious stares and lackluster praise?  Good for a beginner?  Ha. He'd like to see Deimos do anything of the sort.

"Well son, are you staying inside or outside tonight?"  The sound of his father's voice from behind caught Saros off guard.

"Umm, outside I think." Saros turned around to see his father and the large orc woman from before looming over him.

"Ah good.  I made a new friend and she was going to come back to my room and show me some of her writings."  Saros looked over at the woman to see her flexing her right arm, her bicep nearly ripping through her shirt sleeve. Deimos grinned and cocked an eyebrow.  "We are going to arm wrestle to see who gets top bunk."  The orc woman stopped flexing and her face returned to that familiar shade of dark green.

"Father, please, I do not need to hear about your sleeping arrangements."

"What?  You are always talking about how we need to communicate more?"

"You know that this is not what I meant."  Saros turned back to his food, and stuffed the last few bites in his mouth

"Ah, I am just giving you a hard time.  If you change your mind, you know--"

"The secret knock of course." He mubled through a full mouth. As he stood up from his table.  "And if you need me you can find me--

"On the tallest hill outside of town, yes I know.  I love you son."  Saros brushed past his father as he headed out the door without saying a word  Deimos turned to the woman beside him and shrugged. "They grow up so fast."

Saros made his way to the wagon outside.  He hopped inside and rummaged around, grabbed his bedroll and a couple of other essentials, and headed off in to the hills to the east.  He had seen one on the way in to town that was quite large indeed and knew it would make for an excellent spot for stargazing. And sure enough he was right, he was about a mile from town meaning he was free from all the noises and the lights, and able to just stare at the clear sky and the stars above.

Nights like this were his favorite growing up.  Money hadn't always been easy for the pair.  There was a time when they had no choice but to sleep outside.  When Deimos worked alone he had made enough coin for both, but had struggled trying to provide for two, but he did as well as he could.    When they made coin, as they seldom did, it went to food first and shelter last.    Deimos always said that he had grown up without either, and he'd choose a hot meal over a warm bed any day.

Saros always enjoyed it when his father talked about his childhood, it helped him relate to him more. Deimos had grown up an orphan on the streets of Carth, in the kingdom of Alfard.  Before learning acrobatics and juggling, he stole and pilfered to get by, before that he had lived on refuse.  He had passed on those theiving techniques in the early days, and it had been Saros's duty to supplement their income by picking the pockets of the rich.

One day, after performing in Innastorm, Deimos had found himself on the beach, staring up at the stars with his companion for the night.  At the time he was doing well enough to feed himself, and he stayed indoors when he felt like it.  But tonight, the starry sky had called to him, and after he and his lover had  their tryst, they found themselves talking about the meaning of life.  He didn't know why but he felt compelled to tell her about how empty his life felt, the constant  female attention, the food, the beds, when he was living on the streets, he thought those things would make him happy.  But he felt like he had gained all that he wanted, but lost what he needed, and he didn't know what it was.

She had told him that life didn't give you its meaning.  You had to give meaning to it.  He had nothing he was invested in or cared about other than himself.  Until he found something or someone beside himself to care about, his life would continue to be empty and meaningless.  He had told her the only thing he cared about was the freedom he felt looking up at the night sky, and it would take a miracle to make him care about anything else. Nine months later he awoke to find a newborn baby with skin light the night sky, and eyes that sparkled like stars.  He had called him his Miracle Boy ever since.

On those nights they looked up at the stars together, Saros would lay in wonder as Deimos would tell him stories of all the things he had done in his life.  Deimos would always say that the most important thing is freedom.  "Be who you want to be and do what you want to do, and let no one stop you. That is what is most important in life.  Always remember that Saros. And what's the second most important thing?" he'd always ask. "Family." Saros would always answer.

"That's right."

As he reminisced, he could feel drowsiness begin to overtake him. He took a moment to adjust his bedding and find a comfortable position, he then concentrated for a moment and suddenly a ethereal humanoid shaped figure, only visible to Saros, appeared before him."How can I aide you, Saros?"

"You know the drill.  Wake me up in 8 hours.  If anyone or anything with ill intent comes within 30 yards, wake me up."

"Of course.  Rest well." Saros closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep, his ethereal guard standing watch.  His dreams were tumultuous, filled with visions of storms and battle and suffering and loss.

"It has been 8 hours Saros. Farewell."  Saros awoke to see the ghostly form of his ever vigilant protector evaporate before him.  It was a dreary day in early Autumn.  Grey mist hung in the air, not a single beam of sunlight could be seen anywhere.  Saros was glad he took the chance to stargaze when he did, odds are it would be too overcast to do it tonight.

About a half hour later, Saros found himself back in town at the Broken Shovel Inn, knocking at the door to his father's room.  There was no answer.  He paused and remembered.  He knocked again, this time five times in succesion, a brief hesitation then twice more.  Still no answer.  Once again, he knocked, this time, slower, harder, and more deliberately, but before he could finish the last two taps, the door opened.

"Knock knock."  Deimos stood before him, disheveled, sweaty, and pale.  He waved Saros in, "You can enter.  The girl from last night is gone."  Deimos made his way back to the bed with apparent difficulty

"How did you sleep?" Saros's voice was laced with trepedation.  His father had pulled all nighters before, so it wasn't uncommon to see him out of sorts in the morning. Even so, this seemed different

"Not well, and not for any fun reasons either.  Whoo, I think you are going to need to let your old man sit down for a bit.  I uh, I am not feeling so hot."  Deimos faltered for a bit as he tried to reach for the bed in front of him, but before he could make it, his legs gave out beneath him and he crumbled to the floor

"Father."  Saros rushed to his side, "Are you alright?  Did that orc from last night do this to you?"  He grunted as he managed to hoist Deimos up on to the bed.

"No unfortunately, she is not the reason for me being unable to walk.  We just talked for a little bit and she left.  There was one other thing of note.  I do not guess by any chance you came in here last night in disguise and attacked me with a dagger?"

"No of course not, father."

"Good, if so, I would have some various serious complaints about your technique.  Whoever it was barely managed to knick my arm.  I managed to stab him straight through the hand.  And then the bastard must have taken off with my knife.  Do you see her anywhere.  It was Lola, I do not know what I would do with out her."

"Father, there are more pressing issues than a dagger, here let me take a look at your arm." Saros rolled the billowy sleeve on Deimos's right arm back to reveal, amidst his olive skin, a  large patch ofwhat appeared to be marble, with a small scratch at the certain of it.    He put his hand to it, it was cold and hard like stone.  "This is not good.  Father, we must get you to a temple immediately."

"You are probably right.  I do not want to ruin my perfect complexion."  Deimos laughed, but the nervousness in his voice betrayed his apparent nonchalance.   Saros lifted him up to his feet, threw his uninjured arm over his shoulder and escorted him to the door, down the hall, and out of the inn.  After asking a few people out on the street, he managed to ascertain the location of the  temple of Cinna and began to head towards it.  Saros struggled to carry his father, Deimos seemed to be growing weaker by the second and having a harder and harder time supporting himself, even with Saros's help.

By the time they made it to the temple, Deimos could hardly hold himself up at all, and decided to collapse on the ground instead.  Immediately, seeing that something was wrong, a number of clerics rushed to his aid.  A dwarf woman in more ornate robes approached Saros as several figures huddled around Deimos, chanting and invoking Cinna's name.

"What is wrong with him, my child?"

"It's my father.  He was attacked in the night by a man with a dagger.  And now his arm is turning to stone."

"Well, given those circumstances, I think poison is most likely.  Cockatrice spit most likely.  It is excrutiating but easily fixed.  The woman crouched down beside Deimos and placed her hands on his arm.  She began chanting, and after a moment, her hand began to glow green.  Another moment passed, and the chanting and glowing stopped.  She removed her hands to reveal that nothing had changed.  "This is troubling.  Let me try again." She repeated the process and once again the stony patch of skin remained unchanged.  One of the other clerics spoke up.

"Ma'am, I don't think its a cockatrice."

"Well then what is it."

"I'm not entirely sure, but I have some conjecture.  Take a look at the skin that's already changed.  It looks more granite than limestone.  Plus, I ran a few detection spells.  He's definitely got a toxin in him.  But he's also testing positive for a curse, nothing basic either, none of our curse removal spells have worked.  I think the curse is bound to the venom and as long as the venom remains, so does the curse, and vice versa. In order to get rid of it--"

"We have to get rid of them simultaneously.  But to do that, we're going to need to know what both of them are.  Perhaps if we knew who the attacker was we could surmise what he used to attack you.  Did you get a good look at him?" The dwarf dabbed the sweat from Deimos's brow as she spoke to him.

"I did not.  But I did manage to tear a piece of his clothes.  I figure it is importnat, so I held on to it."  With great difficulty and strain, Deimos, unclenched his left first to reveal a scrap of black cloth.  Saros grabbed it and examined it thoroughly for anything of  use, but was ultimately fruitless.

The dwarf spoke up again  "If we do not stop the spread of the venom soon, once it reaches his heart, the toxin will spread rapidly throughout his body, turning him in to a statue within moments.  The only option we have left is to amputate."

Deimos chuckled, "Who ever heard of a one armed juggler?"

"Father!  This is no time for laughing."

"Saros, what have I taught you? There is always time for a laugh.  Now run back to the inn, grab my other two daggers, and rush back her as quickly as possible."

"What?"

"GO!"  Deimos dropped the levity, and his face grew hard and stern

"Of course father."  Saros got up and sprinted back to the Broken Shovel.  It took him about five minutes to make it back to the inn, he charged past customers and staff and burst in to the room.  His two other daggers, Florence and Selina, were still sitting on the bedside table.  He grabbed them and dashed back.  When he had left, the venom had already reached his upper arm, it wouldn't be too much longer before it reached his chest and things would be too late.  His mind raced over what might happen to his father.  He didn't always get along with him, but he knew that Deimos loved him.  Or at least he was pretty sure he did.  He was his Miracle Boy after all.

Saros arrived to see the clerics still huddled around him.  But they no longer appeared to be attempting to cast spells, they appeared to be reciting last rites.  He pushed a few aside to see what was happening.  The clerics had removed his shirt, he could see that it had spread all the way up his arm and to his chest.  The dwarf woman from before spoke up.  "I'm sorry, there is nothing more we can do.  Within moments, it will reach his heart."

Saros dropped his head as tears began to well in his eyes "I'm too late."

"Nonsense boy, you're just in time.  All of you, give me some space."  The clerics huddled around Deimos scattered as he struggled to his feet.  "Be a good boy and help me up."  Saros picked his father up by his still fleshy arm.  Deimos was considerably heavier than before and his left arm made a loud scraping noise of stone against stone as he was lifted to his feet.  Once he was upright he looked Saros in the eyes as he rested his good hand on his shoulder.

"Saros, my Miracle Boy.  Perhaps it is time I stopped calling you that.  You are 20 years old, it is time you become a man.  It is time you become Saros.  Whatever it is that means.  Follow your heart, do what it tells you is right, trust it and let it guide you.  I just have one small favor to ask you."

"Anything father," Saros managed to force out between choked back tears.

"Get Lola back for me.  I will miss her terribly."

"O-of course."

"Now hand me my daggers." Saros wiped the tears from his eyes and handed the blades to his father.  "The work of a showman is never done."  With screams of agony, he managed to close the grip of his stony hand around one dagger and lift his arm up as if he had just caught the blade, and positioned his other arm as if he was about to throw the other.  "Always remember the two most important things in life Saros."  Saros watched as the stone spread to the center of his chest and suddenly began to spread through out his entire body. "I love you son."  And with that, his father was gone, and only a statue remained.

[terraisnotonfire-blog]

[terraisnotonfire-blog]

Erin Chapter 1

"It's all about the four Bs" Loramir held up four fingers to demonstrate, taking a hand off the table he was supposed to be helping carry.

"What are you talking about" Volfram had been handling the load just fine by himself so he didn't really have to adjust for the shift in weight distribution.  It was something he was used to, Loramir's assistance was usually more metaphorical than physical.

"The key to the success of any adventuring group is that their members meet the four Bs."  By this point Loramir had taken both hands off the table and was now waking beside Volfram.  "Beauty, this is me of course.  Brawns, you, obviously.  And then Hannah was our brains.  But considering her meltdown yesterday, maybe her brains weren't all there after all."

"Loramir!  She was our friend." Volfram slammed the table down, partially because he had arrived at their destination, and partially because slamming things down for emphasis was a habit of his.  Unfortunately the thud was much less satisfying when hitting soft grass and dirt

"Was being the operative word. Friends do not just leave."  Volfram grumbled in response.  It was hard to argue that point

"Yeah, well that's only three, what's the fourth?"

Loramir sat on to the massive table, his long legs still able to dangle off the ground as he swung them playfully.  "I'm still working on that one.  There is some ineffable quality, I can't quite put my finger on.  But both Bigsby and Firo had it.  And The Alchemist had it as well."

"Is it being reckless and stupid and getting themselves killed?"

"No that doesn't start with a B. Its something else.  I'll think of it."

Volfram scanned the area.  They were in a clearing in the middle of a dense forest, miles from town with only themselves, a table, and hundreds of trees within sight. "Loramir, we don't have any chairs."

"Who needs chair when you have . . " Loramir paused with bated breath, fishing in his pocket as he waited for his friend to finish the sentences

Volfram breathed a heavy sigh, ". . .pocket thrones."

"POCKET THRONES!"  With much gusto, Loramir threw two small pieces of metal down on the ground. He waited a few moments for Volfram to get out of the way before he shouted "THE MAGIC WORD!"  Instantly, the two small objects exploded in to their full size, going from a mere inch, to nearly 8 foot tall.  Or they would be if they were standing up straight, instead one had landed on its side and the other was laying face down in the dirt.  Volfram righted both of the ornately decorated and uphlostered thrones, moved them closer to the table and plopped down in the one on the left.  Loramir dusted off the other, fluffed up its red velvet cushioning, and draped himself across it, his back propped against one armrest, his legs dangling over the other.  Loramir pulled an apple out of his robe and began polishing it on his sleeve. "And now we wait."

"Why do you insist on 'olding,er, I mean holding, tryouts in the middle of nowhere anyway?"

"Simple," Loramir replied through a mouth full of apple, "its the first test.  Anyone who lacks the skills or energy to come and find us is not worth our time. Its an easy way to weed out the undesirables.

It was quiet morning on the road, which was odd for this time of year and day, only two figures could be seen, a girl and a wolf.  The girl, Erin, was young, early 20s, and utterly remarkable in how unremarkable she was, with the exception of her outfit.  Beneath her traveler's cloak, she wore a set of the finest leather armor that most would ever see in their life, exquisetly hand stitched and with a wolf's head embroidered on the left side of the chest.  She had a recurve bow slung over her right shoulder with a quiver of arrows strapped to her back. A pair of daggers hung at her side, along with a wineskin, a couple of small pouches and little else.  She turned back and whistled as she patted her leg, "Come on Princess!  Come on girl."  A few yards back, a lean, grey wolf's ear perked up, turned her head away from the pile of refuse that she had been sniffing in, noticed the girl calling for her, and sauntered back, panting.  The warm summer sun made things rather warm in her thick fur coat..  Erin knelt down to embrace her  and scratch behind her ears.  "Oh good girl, gooooood girl.  Who's my pretty girl?"  Erin looked in to Princess's eyes, the left was a radiant golden yellow, the left was an icy blue with long eyelashes, eye shadow, and also happened to be painted on the back of a tattered eye patch that covered a series of three jagged scars. "You are!  Yes you are."  Princess's ears perked up and her tail wagged as her face shifted in to what could only be classified as a smile before savagely attacking Erin with her tongue.  "Oh no, no licks.  Oh gross, I don't know where that mouth has been.  Well, I do, and it only makes it worse." Erin pushed the wolf back and ruffled the fur on her neck a couple more times before standing up and brushing herself off.

Erin took a moment to scan the horizon.  The road continued forward with small cottages dotting the landscape, clustered closer and closer together the farther back they got until they reached a massive spired wall that encompassed the landlock sides of the sprawling port city of Innastorm. "Stay close, Princess.  This place isn't anything like back home.  Wolves running around in the street digging through trash isn't looked upon well in places like this.  While we're here, you have to act like you're my pet, which means you need to be on your best behavior, okay?"  The wolf's ears dropped and her face sank indicating that she understood but wasn't happy about it.  "OH don't be such a grump!  Come on."  Erin strode toward the city, purposefully and with her head held high.  Meanwhile Princess followed behind with her head hung low and her tail dragging the ground.  But Erin wasn't going to let her friend's attitude problem ruin her day, her mind was on other things.  After several days of traveling she was nearly there.  She was almost a real deal adventurer.

Before long she found herself within the walls of Innastorm.  It truly was like nothing she had ever seen. There were buildings all around her, all crammed up next to each other, with many even sharing walls.  Everywhere she looked there were people, talking, walking, just doing and being.  The ground was all either cobblestone or mud, not a speck of green in sight. And it just went on as far as the eye could see.  "Wow this really is nothing like home.  I guess we're gonna need directions if we ever hope to find out destination.  Hmmm."  Erin took a moment the scan the crowd milling about in front of her as well as all the adjacent peoples before her eyes settled on a dwarf running a fruit cart.  "Ahh there we go," she remarked as she made her ways towards her.  "Excuse me Ma'am, I would like to buy an apple, and a pomegranate if you have any."

"Ah a pomegranate, a girl of particular tastes.  I take it you're not from her originally." The saleswoman pulled an apple from one of the display crates and began to polish it, eyeing the wolf warily.

"Nope, I'm from a small little farming village back a few days east of here"  Noticing the saleswoman's unease at the beast beside her, she began to scratch Princess's ears, a gesture the wolf very much enjoyed it and was not shy about showing how much she enjoyed it.

"Farming village out east, huh? How'd you come across pomegranate?"  The woman placed the freshly polished apple on the counter and, having seen the wolf seemed to be no cause for concern, stooped down behind the cart and began rummaging around in a few boxes behind the stall.

"Well you see, my mom actually managed to get a pomegranate tree to grow back home.  Green thumb like you wouldn't believe.  Dad said she once made a rose bloom in the middle of winter."

"Fascinating.  It is quite uncommon for a tree like that to grow in such an environment.  It must have had very rich soil to flourish in."

Erin thought of her mom, her glow and her vibrant energy.  The way she tended to her cuts and scrapes when she came back from her adventures in the forest, or pretend sword fights with the other kids.  She remembered the family dinners, the cold winter nights huddled together for warmth.  She remembered the way she would braid her hair while humming her favorite song.  She remembered her being their to listen to just anything she had on her mind.  She sniffled and wiped a tear from her eye."Yeah, I'd say that's accurate."  

"Ah, here we go."  The shopkeep rose from the back of the stall holding aloft a not particularly pretty, but fresh and ripe fruit.  The shopkeeper noticed the  tears in the girls eyes.  "I'm sorry this is all we have, they mostly grow in the south, and there's not a lot of demand so--" "No no, its okay, I swear everything is fine." She wiped her face on her sleeve and sniffed again, forcing a laugh. "I don't suppose you could tell me where the Angry Squid is?"

"Ah, I thought you might be the adventuring type."  The dwarf decided to play along in order to ease the palpable tension.  "Explains why you traveled all the way here.  You're looking for the port district.  Just keep heading west down the main thoroughfare you came in on, they're right on the main road, hard to miss with their sign.  If you start to see a lot of sailors walking about, you're getting close.  If you wind up in the ocean, you went too far.

Erin chuckled as she handed over a few coins and grabbed the fruit. "Thank you, I hope you have a splendid day, hope to see you again."

"And I as well, safe travels young one."  The shopkeep smiled as she waved to the departing girl. She really did hope she would see her again.  Her warmth was infectious and to see it snuffed out so young like so many other young adventurers like herself truly would be a tragedy.

It didn't take much longer before she had arrived at her destination.  And the fruit woman had been right about the sign.  A flashily painted 8 ft tall sign of a massive irate squid holding a helpless sailor in each tentacle was in fact very hard to miss.  It would be easy to find even if you were piss drunk, which judging by the clientele loitering around the outside of the establishment, was likely a selling point.  Erin swallowed the seed of fear forming in the back of her throat took a deep breath, held her head high and strode through the saloon doors.

The first thing she noticed when she walked through was the noise.  All around her people were talking, and music was playing but she couldn't figure out from where.  She had hoped to make more of an interest, that every one would have gotten quiet and turned to look when she walked in, but she was starting to get the idea that in a place of this size, they probably get half a dozen people like her walk in every day.  The next thing she noticed was the size.  It had seemed pretty big on the outside, but now that she was inside it seemed even larger, at least twice the size of the inn back home.  After she took a moment to let the immensity of the place sink in, she took a moment to get the details..  

It was a split level establishment with many doors lining the walls of the lower level as well as the upper balcony.  On the walls of either side of the door she came through were two large boards covered with various papers. Throughout the rest of the establishment, every square inch of available wall space was dedicated to a plague or trophy commemorating one thing or another.  The floor was littered with food debris of all kinds, some of it quite old, as well as the occasional broken plate or cup.  Clearly this place was not concerned with cleanliness or appearances.  Around the room as well as up on the balconies, were several tables of various sizes, many of them occupied.  Some seated only a couple of individuals, some held upwards of ten.  Every so often a group would be joined by an individual, then they would go to one of the many doors and head in. Sometimes a group would come out of one of those rooms and split up. At the center of the room was a large pillar surrounded by many shelves.  Upon the shelves lay more bottles than Erin could ever hope to count..  A circular bar ran around the outside of the bass of the pillar, around which many patrons were huddled.  Laying on top of the bar was a gnome of swarthy complexion and chestnut hair.  He wore a white tunic with a  low neckline exposing a light amount of chest hair.  It was hard to gauge the age of a gnome, but the specks of grey in his hair and the light wrinkles around his eyes indicated that he was getting on in years.  He lay on his side as he rested his head on his outstretched palm and took infrequent long drags from a pipe he held in his other hand.  He had locked eyes on her when she had walked in and as far as she could tell he was the only one paying attention to her.  He waved at her with his pipe

She took a moment to steel herself for whatever may come next and made her way to the bar.  When she drew close, the man greeted her "Hello, welcome to the Angry Squid." The man spoke with an accent she couldn't quite place.   My name is Sawyer, what brings you to this fine establishment?  Just a drink, or something more?"

"Well, with any luck its both. Can I get a cider?" "No problem."  Sawyer waved his pipe and suddenly an empty glass floated off the shelf in front of her.  It drifted over and up a few shelves before stopping in front of a keg.  The cork suddenly freed itself and brown liquid poured out in to the mug.  After a moment, when the glass reached its capacity, the keg re-corked itself and the mug floated back down and finished its journey in front of Erin.  "And the something more?"  He flashed a cocksure grin.

"Huh, neat trick."  The mug was of clear glass with a handle wrapped in leather.  The actual glass of the mug was covered in a thin layer of frost, but the handle remained warm.  She wiped some of the frost off with a finger, and within a few moment the section was covered once again in ice.  She lifted the glass above her head to see a series of pale blue runes glowing on the underneath side.  "Fascinating."

"Yes, its my own handiwork. Everfrost mugs.

"Never had anything this fancy back home."  She took a moment to appreciate the glass after polishing off the drink and setting it down.

"Ah, small town girl.  You're probably seeking the adventure boards."  He gestured with his pipe towards the two large boards on either side of the door she had come through.  "Based on your outfit and companion, I'm guessing you're the adventuring type, so you probably want the one on the left, its the party board.  Its for people seeking additional adventuring companions, the one on the right is the quest board, its for people looking to hire adventurers for work.  But a word of warning since you're new around here and I likes the cut o yer jib. I saw the guys from The Magnificent Monarchs putting up a flier this morning, stay away from them.  Trust me, they are more trouble than they are worth.  Everywhere they go, they bring nothing but chaos." Erin's ears perked up at the sound of her favorite word

"Magnificent Monarchs, chaos, noted.  Hey could you whip me up a bit of vodka and orange juice. I've got a hunch I'm gonna need it."

"Ah yes, a screwdriver, I am familiar with it.  If an ex sailor knows anything, its his liquor, especially the kind that prevents scurvy."

"Excellent."  Erin slapped a few coins down on the counter and walked over to the board.  All across it were papers and parchments of all descriptions.  Some were individuals looking to join existing groups, other were for groups needing to fill spots.  She just scanned over them, looking for the right one.  Finally, she noticed it at the very top of the board, nearly ten feet up.  She jumped and tried to reach for it but it was well out of her grasp. She pushed a few people out of her way, muttered a few words under her breath as something formed in her grasp and she shot her hand forwards.  Suddenly a thick green vine extended forth and wrapped around the parchment, she gave it a simple tug and the vine retracted back leaving her with only the paper in her grasp.

"HEY!" the voice of the barkeep cried out behind her. "Read the sign."  He pointed towards a large sign above the bar which loudly declared "THE USE OF SPELLS OR WEAPONS ON PREMISES IS STRICTLY PROHIBITED"

"Sorry, new here."

"Yeah I know, just make sure it doesn't happen again."  He grumbled something under his breath about small towns and went back to minding the bar as Erin examined the flier she was now clutching.

THE MAGNIFICENT MONARCHS

Now seeking very excellent applicants

Anything less than the absolute best of the best need not apply

Today only Your first test is finding us

Good Luck

After reading over it a few times to make sure she didn't miss any additional information, she stooped down and held it in front of Princess for a few moments to allow her to sniff it thoroughly, she grabbed a tack from the bin below the board, stuck it back up in an empty spot and then headed back to the bar.

"So barkeep, what can you tell me about--

"Two guys, one of em is an elf in fancy robes, the other looks like a bear skin rug draped over a mountain.  How did I know you would beeline straight for em?" The gnome slid another mug towards the woman.

"What can I say, I'm a girl who likes her chaos.  And I think I'll be taking this to go." Erin pulled out her wineskin, popped the cork off and poured the contents of the mug inside.

"Well, don't say I didn't try to warn ya.  And my name is Sawyer by the way, you'll be needing to know it.  I'm the one you'll be coming to when they ask you to pay off their bar tabs."

Erin looked over her shoulder as she walked out the door.  "Good, cause I look forward to talking to you again.  My name is Erin, by the way, you'll be needing to remember it for the plaque they're gonna put up for me one day."

Sawyer smiled and waved as she left.  "I look forward to that day, Erin.  Safe travels. OH, and tell those two they better bring my table back in one piece."

Erin stepped a few feet outside and then knelt down to Princess "Okay girl, you remember the scent from that paper?  Find it!"  Immediately, the wolf took to the ground, hunkering low and sniffing the area.  After a few moments, the wolf locked on to a scent and begun after it.  With Erin in tow, they shortly found themselves around the back of the building with Princess barking and jumping and attempting to climb a stack of boxes resting against the back of the Saloon.  "So they're up there girl?  Interesting, hide right under everyone's noses.  I like their style.  Okay, wait here girl, I'm going up."  With a hop and a scramble she sound found herself on top of the boxes and pulling herself up on to the establishment's roof, with the help of a couple of groans and strains and an encouraging yip from Princess.

Once she was up, she immediately noticed one cloaked figure on the opposite end of the roof from her, holding some object aloft.  It was small, too small to be an elf.  And there was no sign of a mountain wearing a bear skin rug.  But whoever this was, they likely had some connection to the flyer since their scent was all over.  It was worth a closer investigation.  She decided to creep up closer and perhaps figure out what it was holding before making her presence known, but no sooner had she taken a single step on the roof top, the figures head snapped around causing their hood to blow back, revealing their face.  He stuffed what appeared to be a spyglass in to his cloak and strode closer to Erin.

It was obvious that he was a Muridian at a glance, the fur, the whiskers, the rat-like features. Despite being from a small town nowhere near their kingdom, she still knew a thing or two about them.  There was an elderly Muridian couple, the Hughes's in the town she grew up in.  They were very pleasant folks who often came to her parents shop, they would sometimes share home made dishes with her family.  She was rather a fan of Muridian cuisine.  "Umm excuse me, are you--"

"HA!  If you followed me up here that means you no doubt seek the same quarry."  His voice was a deep and booming baritone, something she did not expect from his small, four foot frame.  Mr and Mrs Hughes both spoke in high squeaky tones.  "You're a fool if you think I would give any information to my competition."  He was now close enough to get a good look.  Across both his face and body, fur was missing in several patches, some forming jagged lines, others were in round or oblong splotches.  It reminded her of the scars Princess wore under her eyepatch.  His leather armor was similarly marred, covered in scratches, punctures, and burn marks, with a large hole in the stomach region.  He wore a bandolier across his chest of various pouches, and another one as a belt.  Dangling from his waist appeared to be a large wooden mallet on one side and a case of crossbow bolts on the other.  A thick leather strap running perpendicular across his chest to the bandoleer and a large bulge in his cloak indicated he likely had a crossbow slung across his back to go with the bolts.  He ran his fingers through the short coif of hair atop his head.  "Not like I have anything to tell you.  This lookout is a wash.  The walls of the city are too high, I can't see over them."

"Oh that's okay, I'm just--" Erin attempted to interject but was interrupted once again

"I fear I must depart now.  But I will leave you with this."  He reached out his small hand in an offer to shake hers.  Erin obliged.  "Never wash this hand.  When the whole world knows my name and my heroic deeds, this will be a treasured memory to share with all your friends."  His eyes shone like sparkling emeralds as he gave her a wink, upon which he released her hand and sprinted away, leaping to and adjacent rooftop

"I DIDN'T EVEN GET YOUR NAME!"  She yelled after him, but it was no use, he was lost in his own world and several buildings away at this point.  She watched him for a moment until he eventually disappeared out of sight, shrugged her shoulders and climbed back down to where Princess was eagerly awaiting.  "Well that was certainly interesting. Looks like we have some competition for a spot on that team.  We better get a move on while the tracks are still fresh."

The pair made their way back to the front of the building as Erin reviewed what she knew. Two individuals, one of which was quite large, and carrying a table. This should mean his tracks would be quite large and deepset, if they weren't on cobblestone that is.  However, thanks to her run in with the strange Muridian, she had a hunch they weren't likely to be on the streets anywhere or he would have spotted them with his spyglass. And since they took a table with them, odds are they were going somewhere they would need to bring their own furniture, so anywhere indoors was unlikely as well.  Her gut told her they were somewhere outside the city.  To the west was nothing but ocean, and she had come in from the East and seen no one matching their description on her way in, which meant they likely went out either the north gate or south gate.  On the way in to town, she had taken note of the landscape.  To the north was nothing but wide open fields, didn't seem like there would be any place secretive to set up.  On the south side were several groves of trees, her best guess for where they were camped out, so she decided to head in that direction.  On her way out she stopped to ask people in the streets if they had seen anyone matching their description heading out of town.  Recollections were often hazy at best but most people she talked to were able to recall a large beast of a man with a table and an elf dressed too rich for this part of town heading towards the south gate.

Upon leaving the city and finding herself on the muddy road out of town, it didn't take long to find the tracks she was looking for.  They were massive indeed and sunken quite far in to the ground.  Even factoring the table the man was carrying, she could tell by how deep they were that the descriptions she had heard of this man's size weren't as grossly over exaggerated as she had thought.  The tracks continued down the road for some distance.  After about 10 minutes she came upon a broken down wagon off to the side of the road.  She was focused on the tracks and not her surroundings, a rookie mistake, so she paid it no heed, or else she might have noticed the trio of bandits doing a very poor job of hiding behind it.  As soon as she was within ambushing range, the three of them jumped out, brandishing spears.

"My my my, what 'ave we here?"  The largest man, the one on the right spoke first."

The scrawny one on the left spoke next.  "A tasty little tart, innit?  What say you boys, who wants second crack at her when I'm down."  The trio of ne'erdowells broke out in to raucous laughter.  Suddenly, the one in the center whom she guessed to be the leader grew stone faced and leveled his spear at her.  

"But seriously, this is a robbery, unless you want it to turn in to a murder, I suggest yous drop your valuables and run back to wherever it is you come from.  And that includes that fancy armor you got."  Princess began to growl and bare her teeth

"Whoa there!  Ey Boss, what we gonna do about this mutt?"  The bandit on the left lowered his spear towards the wolf.

"Looks good enough to eat.  I reckon we cook it up and wolf it down."  The bandit on the right laughed at his own joke

"I ain't decided yet. Oi, you.  Calm your beast before I do it for you."  The leader gestured towards the wolf menacingly before leveling it at Erin once again.

"Easy there, no problem.  Princess!"  Erin whistled loudly, her friend immediately stopped growling and turned to look at her.  The girl made a series of hand signals, and the wolf sat down, seemingly calm and relaxed.  "As you can see, Princess is very smart, and eating her would be a waste.  I don't have much in the way of valuables, and what few possessions I do have are sentimental, but if you let me live, you can have her.  I'll even teach you all the hand signals."

"Hmmm, 'at dudn't sound too bad.  I reckon we gots a deal.  But no funny business. Drop yer weapons first and step back."

"That sounds fair. Can't be too careful." She pulled the bow off her shoulder and tossed it on  to the ground a couple of feet to her right. She took the quiver off next, tossing it haphazardly causing it to fly end over end and spill its content all across the ground.  "That just leaves the daggers."  She lowered her hands slowly and cautiously, sure not to make any sudden moves.  "Here we. . " as soon as her hands found their grips on the handle of each blade, the corners of her mouth curled slightly upwards, "go." As soon as the last word was out of her mouth, she flung the daggers at the man pointing his spear at Princess, pegging him square in the chest and right arm.  Before he hit the ground, Princess lunged at the man in the center, knocking him to the ground, pinning him as she clamped down on his throat with her fangs.  While this was happening and the third man was trying to figure out what kind of violence to respond with, Erin dropped and rolled over to her bow, grabbing it and an arrow as she did so.  By the time the third man looked back at her she had her aim trained squarely on his head.

"Uh uh uh. Make the wrong move and things will get a lot worse for you and your friends." She looked to the man in the center struggling to get the wolf off of him.  "That includes you, I suggest you quit resisting.  You keep up like that and Princess will have to bite down harder just to keep a grip, and I don't think you want that.  Bleeding aint too fun, just ask your friend over there."  The tall man dropped his spear and the leader quit struggling.

"She's right.  This 'urts real goddamn bad.  Stupid bitch."  The man on the left clutched at the daggers as he writhed in pain.

"Watch your mouth or I'll let Princess have a second crack at you when I'm done." Erin walked over and kicked some dirt on to the man and spat in his face, all while keeping the bow tracked on the man still standing. "Now normally this would be the part where I get the authority's involved, but I'm kind of in a rush.  So here's the offer you get instead.  When I pull the daggers out of your man here, he's gonna start losing a lot more blood.  If the lot of you get a move on, you should be able to get to town before he dies of blood loss.  And then if I ever catch wind of any of you three pulling shit like this ever again, I aim for the heart next time.  And Princess has got all of your scents so if you try anything funny, we'll literally smell you coming a mile away.  Understood?"

"Ye-yeah." The leader gargled through a partially strangled throat.

"Good." Erin planted a foot on the chest of the scrawny man, and grabbed her daggers.  He screamed as she gave them  each a small twist each before ripping them out.  Erin whistled and Princess released her grip and strode back beside her partner.  "Now get out of here. And remember, no funny business."

"Yes ma'am."  The two unwounded men rushed over to their comrade, picked him up, and began hauling him back to town.  She watched them for a minute to make sure they weren't up to something.  Once they were out of ear shot, she let out a big exhale and untensed.

"Oh my fucking god, that was intense.  I can't believe that worked.  I guess it is true what they say about practice.  And then the way I cracked out those quips.  DAMN!  You'd think I'd done that before.  Oh man, I need to take a minute to relax.  Breathe.  And pick up all these goddamn arrows.  Come on Princess."  Erin looked over to see Princess scowling at her.  "Oh of course, you were great too.  The way you acted like everything was cool right up until the moment you attacked, that was phenomenal.  And you nailed the hand signals perfectly, you were amazing. . .   What?  I said you were great, why are you still looking at my like that. . .  WHAT?  Look, I wasn't lying, he should make it back to town alive.  Assuming they staunch his wounds.  Oh, and how is it my fault if they don't know proper wound dressing.  That's basic survival.  Like knowing what is bad to eat.  I'm sure they'll figure it out. Or run fast enough.  Maybe they'll get lucky and run in to a cleric."  Erin finished picking up the last of her arrows and slung her quiver back over her shoulder and then doing the same on the opposite shoulder with her bow.

"Come on, we got places to be."  Erin took off down the trail.  Princess sat for a minute before huffing loudly and following after her.  "Ya know Princess, if you're gonna be an adventurer, you're gonna have to get used to a little blood loss.  It's kind of a big deal in this line of work.  Now hurry up.  It's midday, I wanna find these guys so we can eat."  Princess obliged and picked up the pace.  Before long the tracks left the road and in to a field.  But even with out the aid of mud and dirt, the trail of trampled grass was easy enough to follow, and before long they were at a forest.  

"Okay Princess, keep quiet.  My instinct tells me we're close.  Be on guard, who knows what's in here."  Erin immediately fell in to her hunting stance, low and quiet, with bow and arrow at the ready.  Princess broke off by about 15 feet and began the approach as well.  The trail was easier than ever to follow, not only was the disruption to the ground cover massive, but their were also trees with freshly broken branches at 10 feet off the ground.  She was starting to paint a picture as to just how gargantuan this individual was.  Suddenly her attention was attracted by the sound of  three scratches.  Erin looked over to see Princess's ears were perked up with her gaze locked on a point in the distance.  From where she stood, she couldn't make anything out in the distance, so she climbed up a nearby tree leaping from treetop to treetop trying to get closer. After about 30 feet she could hear the sound of someone humming, and just barely visible from her vantage point was a clearing in the exact direction that the sound was coming from and it just so happened to be also be the direction Princess's vision was focused. She had finally found them.  Now it was time to make an entrance. She looked down to Princess and flashed a series of signals and smiled.  Time to go to work.

Volfram often liked to hum as he did busy work.  It was something his mother always did and it made things more pleasant.  Today, the busy work was polishing his hand axes.  He didn't break them out too often, preferring to rely on his constant companion, Morganna, a large double headed greataxe.   The humming, while serene and relaxing to him, often had the unfortunate side effect of putting people to sleep as it had done to Loramir once again, whose head lay drooling on the table.  Volgram was reflecting wistfully upon his childhood, when the noise of rustling leaves to the north caught his attention.  But before he could get up to investigate he heard another sound, a branch snapping, this time to the south.  He looked over to his companion to see him still sound asleep, so he shook him violently by the shoulder.  "Loramir, I think we got company.  And I don't like the sound of it."

Loramir rubbed his bleary eyes and blinked his way back to consciousness.  "Oh, do we finally have applicants," he mumbled groggily.

"I don't think so. Coming from multiple sides, both of our flanks, might be an ambush." Volfram hissed in a whisper

"Don't you think that's a little unlikely?"

"With how many people you piss off, I'm shocked you don't think it is likely."

"Fair point.  Okay then, I guess I'll take left and you take right.  Honestly, you better hope half-assing this is enough, cause that's about all the ass I've got to give right now."

"Just shut up and pretend like you know how to take something seriously for once." Loramir grumbled and pulled out a pair of blades and crept forward when suddenly they both heard the sound of something scratching against wood somewhere behind them, to the East.  Volfram's hand reached for Morganna as he started to make his way toward it as Loramir followed suit, when suddenly the sound of a bowstring releasing made him spin around.  A woman, whom he could swear was definitely not there a minute ago, was now standing in the clearing on the other side of the table.

"Hello my name is Erin."  He was confused by this, but he was also confused by the sound of an arrow releasing but no sound of an arrow impact.  He noticed she was was looking way up, far above his head so he followed his gaze with hers, to see the arrow high up in the air and beginning to arc back towards the ground with a trajectory of roughly where he was standing now.  He took a few steps to the side and Loramir, not knowing what was going on,but knowing to trust Volfram's judgement did the same.  Moments before the arrow hit the ground, a grey blur of fur, ripped through the treeline charged across the clearing, leaped, catching the arrow in mid air, landed on the table before using the momentum to leap again in to Erin's outstretched arms.  "And this is Princess, and we'd like to join your team."  Princess snapped the arrow in her jaws before barking enthusiastically.  Erin set her down all while cooing at  her and rubbing her ears and telling her what a good girl she was.

Volfram immediately began clapping enthusiastically.  "You're in."

"What?  You can't just decide who gets to join on your own."

"She has a wolf, I like wolves, she's on the team."

"She hasn't even passed all the tests yet."

"Like what?"

"Well there's the applicable skills test, the trial by combat of course, then there is the talent portion."

"Well she found us, you said that was the first test, so she's already passed that."

Erin wasn't sure whether or not butting in was a good idea but she decided to do it anyway.  "If it's battle experience you want, there's a trio, well, maybe a duo, of bandits back in Innastorm who can tell you all about my combat prowess.  As for applicable skills, I am a master of tracking and survival skills.  I have spent considerable time in the wilds with little to no tools on hand, and as you can see I pack light.  Plus I can do neat things with vines, see?"  She lunged her hand forward and a whip shot out and lashed around a table sitting on the table, and with a flick she pulled it back to her and took a bite. "Oh gross, its all mealy"

"Yeah, it's not very good.  That is why I did not finish it and it was just sitting there."

"See Loramir, she's passed all the tests, and plus that intro was rad.  She's in."

"Well what about the evening wear?"

Erin tossed back her cloak and struck a power pose.  "What you've got a problem with my armor?"

"No actually.  It's honestly quite lovely.  But there is still the personality quiz."

"She likes wolves. Anyone who likes wolves is good people.  She's in."

"Ugh fine, but--"

Suddenly the sound of hissing began to fill the clearing.  Smoke began to pour out of the ground and fill the clearing.  Erin raised her cloak to shield her mouth from the fumes as she tried to fan them away with her other hand.  Loramir and Volfram did the same.  After a moment, when the clearing was so full of smoke that no one could see anyone or anything else, a loud baritone voice rang out.

"When men tell tales of the awesome might of the hero who struck down the Demon Bull of Gorgos with a mighty hammer blow while impaled upon its horn, it is I of whom they speak.  When women gossip of the great warrior who impaled the black heart of Dread Lord Viscont, it my name upon their lips.  When children dream of growing up to be as brave as the one who climbed in to the fearsome maw of the massive Corpse Lion of Panzor to remove the gem giving it life, it is my face in their minds.  I have climbed insurmountable heights and crashed through impenetrable barriers, nothing on this Earth can stand in my way. Yes it is I, Jess, the Mighty!"  Just as his monologue finished, the smoke cleared enough for the trio to make out a scarred Muridian standing atop a pile of skulls on the opposite end of the clearing, arms crossed, red cape billowing in a nonexistent breeze.

Volfram took a moment to parse what had just happened and found it hard to reconcile the disparity between what he had heard and seen up until this point. "He's insane."

"He's batshit crazy." Lorarmir's eyes sparkled with wonder

"Yeah, I know, that's what I just said."

"You don't get it. He's our fourth B.  Brains, beauty, brawn, and batshit crazy.  He's perfect."

"You can't just decide he's part of the team."

"You got to pick wolf girl, so I'm picking the rat with a death wish."

"Ugh fine, but when this one dies, can we please pick a more sensible choice next time."

"Oh no buddy boy, he's not dying.  Didn't you hear his speech, he's got to be goddamned invincible."

"Don't you think that maybe he might be lying"

Loramir recoiled in mock indignation.  "Oh come now sir, don't be ridiculous.  Just look at the bones.  Look at the scars."  He gestured frantically towards the small figure, still poised dramatically atop his pile of skulls, but looking more and more nervous and anxious by the second.

"Anyone can collect skulls.  Poets and doctors collect skulls.  And those scars could come from anywhere.  And what about the tests?"

"Well we don't need to worry about the trial by combat.  Obviously.  So let's see, practical skills."  Loramir turned to face the still posed Muridian.  "Hey you, skull boy.  How did you find us?"

Jess relaxed and climbed down from his skull mound.  "Oh that was easy.  I just snuck up one of the guard towers and from there I was able to spot the clearing and the glint of your friend's axes as he polished them.  I figured it was as likely a spot as any so I came here."

Loramir turned back to "See, sneaking and spying, that's two things.  You know how many times a lookout would have saved our asses.  And you know how much I want a sneaking around partner."

Volfram sighed, "Well what about the new girl.  She got the drop on us."

"Well you and I both know that's hardly a noteworthy feat.  But sneaking past the town guard and climbing a watchtower in broad daylight, that takes skill."

"Fine, but you're paying for the funeral."

"Deal."

Jess, who had stayed quiet for most of this spoke up nervously, "You know I can hear you guys right.  I have no intentions of dying."

"Yeah, yeah no one does but it tends to happen regardless.  Well Loramir, if he's our batshit, I guess that makes Erin our brains.  What say you woman, think you can handle it?"

Erin grinned smugly. "Yeah, I think I can handle it."

Journal Day 1

I can't believe it!  I just made it to Innastorm and I'm already an adventurer with a real party and everything.  People back home said I'd never cut it but I really did it.  It was a crazy day.  I met a strange Muridian named Jess who claims to be a great hero.  Time will tell if any of his claims hold up.  I have my doubts, but I will say one thing, he sure knows how to entertain a room.  Three drinks in and he had the whole bar wrapped up in his stories of adventure, conquest, and derring do.  I might trust him as far as I can throw him, which is probably farther than most to be fair, but he can sure spin a yarn, I'll tell you that much.  Hell I even felt a little inspired.  Inspired enough to drink Loramir under the table.  That's the name of one of the guys I joined.  He's an ass and an elf, in that order.  But not like the bad kind of ass, just the 'roll your eyes' kind.  The other guy is named Volfram.  He's really big and scary looking, but he's not so bad. Doesn't talk a lot.  Or at least, he doesn't talk to me a lot.  Not yet at least.  I'll crack that egg.  But that's all for tonight. Tomorrow we're gonna take on our first quest.  I'm really excited.

[terraisnotonfire-blog]

Erin, Prologue

Hannah's head hung low as she stared in to her drink.  Her pale blue eyes peering deep in to her beverage, she could see her face reflected in the amber liquid, staring back at her.  Her eyes hadn't always been that pale.  They used to burn with the ferocity  of a raging blizzard, 'swhat someone told her once. But that wasn't the only thing that had changed, she hardly recognized her own reflection at all these days.  She focused on the scars, accrued from  many years of combat and hardship.  She examined the obvious signs of age.  The messy graying blonde hair, the wrinkles.  And what did she have to show for it?  A handful of friends?  Less now.  She had the word of her God Cinna, but that meant less than nothing to her these days.  What kind of God of healing doesn't come through when a friends life is on the line?  A shitty one.  And not to mention the pain, she had been in pain all her life, why had he never healed her?  She had prayed day and night to be free from this pain.  She had devoted her life to healing others hoping it would make her worthy of being healed.  And yet here she was, 20 years later and broken as ever.

"I'm done.  I'm retiring."

"Wait what?"  A pair of men across the table from her suddenly halted their jovial banter and turned twoards her.  The smaller of the two had reacted first, as he often did.  He was tall and slender, with red hair pulled back in to a ponytail so as to not hide his immaculate features: two sparkling green eyes that shone of life and all its wonder; smooth freckled skin marred only by a light hint of scruff along his jaw; and his pearly whites with the trademark grin that came with it. He wore unassuming garb, which for an elf of his lineage meant fine robes, which made him anyhing but inconspicuous in this particular bar. Underneath  the robes, however, he wore the finest of leather armors, a pair of curved daggers, and the coinpurses of many many unlucky passersby. "What do you mean you're retiring"

"Yeah you can't just quit!" The larger man slammed his mug down as he spoke, to give his words added emphasis.  Added emphasis he didn't need as his towering 8 foot height and  600 pound build lended his booming voice all the ferocity it needed.  And when that wasn't enough, the added menace of the giant great axe strapped to his back, the various animal pelts that covered his muscular, scar-riddled body, and the bandolier of throwing axes strapped to his chest usually got the message across. And if his body didn't tell you not to fuck with hime, it was plastered across his face as welle.  His eyes, usually furrowed in a scowl, were blue, deep and troublesome, like the ocean during a storm.  His brown hair, messy and unkempt often fell in to his face, obscuring the many tribal tattoos etched across his face.  When he spoke, he revealed slightly larger than average canines, but only when you could see his mouth through his bushy and unruly beard. "Not after everythin' we've been through."

The elf wiped a few drops of Volfram's lager from his face and robes before slamming his drink down as hard as he could muster in hopes of returning the ale assault.  "Yeah, what he said!  'Not aftah ev'ryfin we've bin fru'.'"  He looked down to see that barely any of his drink had sloshed out.  He looked over to see if, by chance, any of those drops hit his compatriot, only to be greeted by a massive palm, that had been intended for a good natured shove on the shoulder, meeting him square in the face and pushing him out of his seat instead

"Shut the fuck up Loramir, that's now 'ow I sound."  Volfram ignored the obvious pain and discomfort of his companion.  The elf had earned that and far worse many many many times over in their days together and could do well wtih a bruised ego and battered tailbone from time to time.  Normally Hannah laughed at this level of tomfoolery between the two.  But not today.  Not for the last several weeks.  Things just weren't that funny anymore.  It was as if the entire world was a bowl of bland tasteless gruel.  And since she was unable to derive any enjoyment from it, she had chosen to just to choke it down instead.  And today was another in a long series of days, stretching back as far as she could remember, that she was just trying to choke down.  It hadn't always been like this.  Sure life had always been like this.  It was the same bowl of unidentifiable goo it always had been.  But she remembered a time when she could find interesting notes and flavors to pick up and ponder on.  But she had grown accustomed to it all, the same muddled flavor over and over again for decades.  It was clear that something was missing.  Perhaps that thing was hope.  She looked at everyone else around her and they seemed to enjoy what they were eating.  It all seemed so interesting, dishes she couldn't even imagine what they tasted like.  She used to believe that maybe one day things would get better, that one day she would wake up to a leg of lamb, or bowl of beef stew, or hell, maybe even a cake.  That if she prayed hard enough, if she lived her life with enough devotion, she would be rewarded.  And yet, here she was with this same miserable bowl of sludge.  Her focus shifted from the metaphorical bowl of gruel in her mind to the very real bowl of gruel on the table in front of her.  Suddenly finding her appetite gone, she slid the porcelain bowl off the table.  It fell with a crash, splashing gray goo all over the feet of Loramir's robes.

"Gods dammit, first ale, now this.  I'll be a five course meal before you know it"

"Is it because of Firo?  How many times do we have to say it wasn't your fault." Volfram reached out to hold her hand as he tried to meet his eyes with hers, but she pulled away.

"No, this isn't about Firo.  Or Bigsby.  Or. . ."  She paused for a moment as she began to get choked up.  She wiped the tears that were beginning to form in her eyes, took a couple of deep breaths and continued.  "It's about everything.  We've been adventuring together for what, 20 years?  And what do I have to show for it?  A couple of fistfuls of gold?  I've got no home to store it in, nobody I love to share it with.  A couple of magical items?  Okay, so I've got a mace that can turn zombies in to dust, neat!  But what does that do for me when there aren't any zombies around.  And its not like killing them is particularly rewarding.  The undead aren't really known for being flush with coin. Best you'll do is find a copper or two on their eyes or in their mouth.  And even then I've got no one to pass it on to.  I spent my whole life singing the praises of a God who never did anything for me, and now who will sing my praises when I'm gone. . I've got nothing."

"Hey whoa there lady?  What about us?  You got your old pals Volfram and Loramir, who could ask for better."

"It's different and you know it. You're a couple of guys, you get along so well.  I've always been the odd one out.  The third wheel in our friendship.  You have each other.  I'm nobody's favorite person.

Volfram reached out to place a reassuring hand on her shoulder.  She started to pull back reflexively but stopped herself and let him. "Hannah, we care about you, you know that right?  Don't you think you're being a little 'arsh on yourself."

"Life's harsh, big guy.  It's time we all learned that.  Saving other people isn't going to save ourselves.  So I think its high time I saved myself for a change.  I suggest you both do the same.  Don't try and stop me.  Seriously, do not try and stop me"  With a labored sigh she rose to her feet, grabbed the faintly glowing mace resting against the table and exited the bar.

Loramir sat stunned for a minute, his mouth slightly agape.  It took a not insignificant amount of time to process the events of the past few minutes, and after finally realizing what had just transpired he snapped back to reality and turned back to the beast of a man beside him.  "Well that just fucking happened."

Volfram shook his head in disbelief at what had just happened.  He struggled to wrap his mind around the fact that she had just left, just like that. "I can't believe she's gone"

"I can't believe she didn't at least leave her mace.  Never know when we're gonna need to fight some zombies."

"Loramir this is not time for lividity."

"Oh look at you with the five dollar words.  Did you steal that one from me when I wasn't looking. And its levity, by the way."

Volfram tried to respond, but he had become too flustered.  So instead he chose to bow his head and stare in to what remained of his drink.  He had lost friends before.  But not like this, and none like her.  Her leaving hurt in a way that he couldn't understand or describe.  All he could think was that he wasn't good enough, it was a familiar feeling.  He couldn't help feeling like he had made this happen, or that he could have done something to stop it.  He didn't show her how much he appreciated her abilities.  He didn't tell her how thankful he was for all the times she had saved him or Loramir.  He didn't-- "You know what this means, though right?" Loramir's sudden question interrupted his train of thought and brought him abrubtly back to reality.  He sighed for he did in fact know what this meant.

"Tryouts!" ". . .tryouts." They both said not quite in unison and with wildly disparate levels of passion.

"Ah, don't be so glum chum.  You love tryouts."  It was true, Volfram did love tryouts.  But the thought of gaining new people, only to eventually lose them was beginning  to take its toll.  Investing in new people was getting harder and harder.  He didn't know how much longer he could keep doing this.  He wasn't even sure why he was doing this.  Maybe Hannah was right.

"Hey who knows, maybe a cute girl will show up.  Maybe she'll think you're cute."  Volfram had to admit, as obnoxious as it may be, Loramir's ability to strike a nerve was unrivaled.  He couldn't help but laugh.

"Yeah, you're one to talk. You're probably banking on some hot dudes showing up."

"You dream small, friend. Perhaps we will get both.  Perhaps a curious couple, adventurous in more ways than one, ey?" Loramir leaned back in his chair, kicking his legs on to the table as he spoke.  He cocked an eyebrow and flashed a wry grin at Volfram when he finished.  Volfram eyed him with equal parts bemusement and contempt, and found the only suitable response was to sweep the back legs of the chair out from under Loramir, causing him to crash to the ground.

Loramir gritted his teeth as he twisted his mouth in to a pained grin with gritted teeth as he rubbed the back of his head.  "Ow. . . Well do you feel better at least."

Volfram chuckled at his compatriot as he stood from his chair.  "Yes, thank you friend."  He finished the remainder of his drink and headed for the door, calling back as he left.  "Clean yourself up, you're a mess.  I'll see you at the Adventure Hall when you're done."

Loramir stared at the ceiling for a minute as he waited for the throbbing pain to subside.  His usual playful grin had dissolved in to a contemplative frown.  How could Hannah feel that way about their lifestyle?  Why did she not enjoy it the same way he did?  And how had Hannah felt that way for so long without him knowing?  Perhaps he had known it but chose to ignore it because it made him uncomfortable.  Perhaps there was more going on with the people around him than he had cared to notice.  He thought about these things for several moments as he continued to stare at the ceiling until he noticed something blocking his vision, snapping him back to reality.

"You gonna pay for that stool?"

"Yes of course. "And the--

"The bowl as well, yes."

"Sure is some company you keep."

Loramir looked up and smiled his rarest smile, the sincere one. "Yeah, it sure is."

Hannah breathed in the night air of Innastorm.  While she had never had a home, this town was the closest she ever had to having one.  She knew all the streets and back alleys and she knew all the right shops and the best merchants.  She was even on a first name basis with a few of them.  But she knew if her friends came looking for her she would leave a trail if she went to any of her old haunts.  She would have to go somewhere new, so she headed to the part of town usually best left avoided, the slums.  She wandered aimlessly until she found the first halfway decent looking shop that was still open at this hour, and stepped inside.

A young goblin sat cross legged on a stool, his head buried in the book that was resting in his lap.  He hadn't noticed her come in, but suddenly noticed th jingle of her armor as she approached.  Visibly flusttered, he slammed the book he had been reading down on to the counter in front of him. "AH!  A customer!  You caught me off guard, I don't normally have any so late.  What can I do for you adventurer, buying or selling?"

"Selling."

"Ah good, well let me see what you've got."  The goblin hopped off the stool on to the counter in from on him before finally jumping down to the ground on the other side.  He rubbed his hands together eagerly as he sauntered over to a nearby step stool.  He slid it next to the table in front of Hannah and climbed atop it. "Well, I aint got all day.  Or night, I guess" Hannah placed her mace down on the table in front of her, before removing the amulet she wore around her neck and placing it down as well.  "This, and this, as well as the armor I'm wearing."

The goblin approached the mace with care, his eyes almost sparkling with wonder at what lay before him. "Oh my.  Oh my, oh my, oh my.  Is this--  Are these--"

"Magic." Hannah nodded her head in acknowledgement.

"One moment!"  The Goblin leapt off the  table with reckless abandon and sprinted back to the counter.  He jumped, trying to reach the book he had slammed down on the counter moments ago, but he was a mere breadths away from reaching it.  Hannah watched for a moment before she decided she had had enough and stepped up behind him, pulled the book down and handed it to home.  "Thanks.  But I could have gotten in myself you know."

"Yeah I know, I'm just impatient."

The small green humanoid struggled to lug the massive tome back over to the table and barely managed to haul it up the step stool before finally slamming it down once again. "Ah let's see, let's see.  Mace. . .  mace. . . mace." He began furiously thumbing through the book scanning the pages as he went before finally landing on a page.  "Ah, very good, there we are.  What else, silver inlays, smells of  *sniff* sage, blue runes, blue runes, blue runes.  AH, okay.  Looks like we have a mace of Undead Annihilation, yes?"  Hannah nodded.  The goblins eyes lit up once again. "Can I-- Can I touch it?"  Hannah nodded once again.  He responded with a giggle of manic delight.  He struggled to pick up the massive object in his small arms, it was nearly as tall as he was, and probably just as heavy, but he was nothing if not determined.  Ultimately, he managed to cradle it in his arms, marveling at its splender as he did his best to resist the temptation to kiss it.  He would wait until she wasn't looking.  He finally set it down before approaching the next one.  

"Let's see.  Amulet.  Blue gem, appears to be . . . aquamarine.  Silver chain, NO WAIT!  Platinum! And its got a . . ." He fished a small monocle out of his pocket and held it up to his eye "Purple aura.  Interesting looks like. . . Amulet of the Storms Wrath!"  Hannah nodded once again. "Oh my indeed.  I dare not even touch that one.  That is quite the find. And the armor as well, yes?"  Hannah moved closer to the table and lifted her arms, allowing him a closer look.

"Chain mail.  Interesting.  But what is this material."  He gasped and took a step back.  "Is this mythril?  It is, isn't it.  I've never gotten to see it up close before.  Its just as magnificent as they say.  And that's not all. Looks like this one's got a . . .green aura.  Gold engraving.  And the symbols appear to be of Fae origin.  Let me just translate this. . . .Ah, here we go.  Chainmail of the Verdant Guardian.  Oh wow These are all items of considerable power, I could never afford to purchase one of them, much less--"

"The deed to your house and however much gold you've got in the till, final offer."

"You've got a deal!!!"  The goblin grabbed her hand  with both of his, eagerly shaking it as he did his best to not jump for joy and failing.  He hopped down, slid the step stool over to the register with a single shove, before frantically climbing up it and on to the register.   He hoped to have the transaction completed before she changed her mind.

"Oh, and a new set of clothes so I can change out of the armor."

"Of course.  But I only have mens, I hope that's okay."

"Not a problem."  She grabbed a white tunic and pair of brown trousers off a nearby shelf. "You got a place I can change."

"Ah yes, just go in the back room.  I should have everything ready by the time you've changed." Hannah headed through the door and closed it behind her.  As she changed and did her best to ignore what appeared to be the sound of kissing coming from the other side of the door, she thought about her new direction in life.  She finally had a home.  And that was something she never had before.  Perhaps she finally had found what she was missing.  

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Wow I find trans women to be so beautiful. Not just that but I love talking to them, I really feel like I can relate to them more than most people? Guess I’m some weird fetishist 

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Holy fucking shit, Deadpool 2 is gay as fuck.  This is from the Director's Cut.  Surprised they didn't throw in some tiki torches. I fucking love this movie.

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Week 12

I've missed a few of these recently. But this one is a doozy. Also I am writing this from my phone, more on that later, so forgive any errors.

I was low on hrt after week 8. I ran out of spiro within a few days, and I was talking half the normal e to make sure it would last. Luckily it only took 2 weeks and then I was back to 4mg e and I increased my spiro from 50mg to 100mg. This info will be relevant shortly.

As I believe I touched upon in my last post I had a good couple of days at week 8. I saw a girl in the mirror for the first time and I took a bunch of pictures after and I was pleased with most of them. One of them is my current profile pic on twitter @ Terraevelyn69. Sure it's got a Snapchat filter but what the fuck do you want from me? But then I had a very dysphoric night. I just felt really shit for a few hours. I climbed out but I didn't get back to where I was the day before. And that's been frustrating. I had started to see myself as a woman and then I lost it. I tried multiple times over the last couple of weeks but it just wasn't happening. But tonight, its back. And I think I know why.

The day I had the very dysphoric thoughts was either my first or second day with out Spiro and my fourth or fifth with only 2mg e. I was able to compensate a little bit with a healthy sexual appetite. Once I got back on the pills it took a minute for my body to level back out. And I think it just did. But before I get to why I believe that, let me tell you what else has been going on

So as I am currently writing this I am on a 6 hour train ride to Chicago. I am going to the Howard Brown clinic to see a Doctor to get an official prescription for HRT. Trying to find a place around here that would take my insurance, would work with trans people, and was taking patients was like pulling teeth. I tried the closest Planned Parenthood 3 hrs away but they don't have someone on staff who can do it. Ultimately the train trip seemed the easiest and cheapest option.

This next part gets a litte nsfw but in a strictly academic sense.

So I usually try to cum once a night. Usually twice. But it can get much higher. I wanted to destress before the trip so I figured I should rub one out. So I pull up some porn, get really high and wind up sidetracked on twitter. I eventually make it back to the porn. I'm having this disconnect between other trans women and myself. I know they have something that I don't. But I don't know what it is. I don't know why I'm wrong. I can tell my face has gotten better, but why don't I look like a woman anymore. I'm trying to imagine other trans women as I see myself. I try to see them as men. But I can't. I try to imagine them without makeup, with short hair or beards or in mens clothes and I just can't. I can't not see them as women. That is just the only thing I can see them as. And I realize it's in the eyes. Behind the eyes is the soul of a woman shining through. And I realize that is what I'm missing. I don't feel like a woman so I don't look like a woman. I don't look like a woman so I don't feel like a woman. And all I have to do is realize that I am a woman regardless of how I appear and I can break the cycle.

God it's so good to be myself again.

So after having this epiphany I realize it's time to nut up or shut up because I need to get ready for the train soon. And I try to get it going with my favorite types or porn. And it's just not happening and I'm starting to get frustrated. But then I realize it's fine. I don't need to cum. I realized the only reason I was doing it was because I thought I needed to not because I wanted to. And I was perfectly content with not cumming.

I think my testosterone is at an all time lol. Feels good.

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RE:  “God doesn’t make mistakes”

So I know some of you might be wondering on how I feel about religion these days. It's common knowledge that I was pretty big in to the Jesus scene for a while

I stopped going to church over time in my college years. Most of the people my age had moved on or stopped going, there wasn't a group for me to belong to, and I just didn't enjoy going anymore. Over the years I grew more and more agnostic. Partially due to my faith plummeting ever lower because my prayers weren't being answered, and because it seemed like all of my Christian friends had kind of forgot about me. And that hurt. It felt like if that love wasn't real, then was any of it?

However, I still believed in a lot of what Jesus said. And I feel like I kind of moved away from seeing it as the truth, and more of a list of moral truths. Words to live by. Do unto others. Be kind. Hate is bad. All that stuff. But my faith in a God that could or would intervene in our day to day lives was nearly nonexistent.

I also believe that we don't have all the answers and discounting anything because it sounds silly is just narrowminded. We could be a simulation, we could be a toy some much larger existence is playing with for all we know. Saying that "the universe kind of just happened one day" explains how, but not why. There are a lot of "whys" we don't know.

Getting to my point, there are a lot of christians who don't like trans people because they see trans people as going against God's Will. They believe God makes each person the way they are meant to be, and God doesn't make mistakes, therefore trying to change who you are is saying that "God messed up" So you might be wondering, do I think God messed up? Do I believe he made a mistake when he made me? No.

Challenges are one of the many things that make the giant branching tree of life as diverse and beautiful as it is. Challenges, obstacles, blessings, and talents, these are all things that make each of us unique. Imagine we all had the same life experience. We all faced the same trials, had the same blessings, overcame the same obstacles, created the same art? Life would be boring. We might each look a bit different, but we'd all be the same. No one would have any wisdom to share or stories to tell. Because we would all already know.

Some people have more challenges or bigger challenges than others. Some have far more blessings than most. Its not fair, but that is life. Being different is what gives us different perspectives. I believe spending 28 years trying to live the wrong life in the wrong body has given me a lot of experience that most people lack. And I know I am who I am because I went through that. And now its time to overcome it. Overcoming an obstacle doesn't go against God's plan, it completes it.

I had stopped praying pretty much altogether in the last few years leading up to me coming out. But in the months leading back up, I started again. Maybe it was coincidence, or maybe it was just a side effect of me trying to cope with my mounting dysphoria. But I also believe, if God exists, if he answers prayer, he doesn't grant them with magic. He grants them with systems that already exist. If you pray for God to cure your cancer, he's not going to whisk it away overnight, he's going to give you a Doctor who knows about this new type of treatment that just might work. If you pray for a new car, he offers you a new tougher job where you will be able to afford it. He tries to guide us down the path that will lead us to that prayer being answered.

Maybe no one answered my prayer. Or maybe it was some other God. But I believe that God helps those who help themselves. And I believed that night I was finally able to help myself. I realized my answer wasn't going to be what I wanted. It wouldn't be simple or easy. It was going to be scary. But if I was serious about this, it was my only option. There was no easy way out. I just wasn't prepared for that answer before, I was too scared of losing what little I had. I never would have taken it. He could have given it to me 1000 and I said No everytime. But finally I was ready. I knew what the choice was and I said yes.

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That’s a really low bar

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But Thor is an egg, right?

anybody else get a little uncomfortable when men are heralded as “lesbian icons”

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I took my gf there a few months back and she went for the cotton candy as well, but had them put it in the bulb instead so its like his flower smells like Cotton Candy.  The scent is still there too.

Bulbasaur was never the same after that day 🐉

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Gender Euphoria is one HELL of a drug.  Holy fuck. Also, this is the beginning of week 9.  Sorry I didn’t post anything last week.  Nothing really to report.  But this week, holy fuck this week.  So early in the week I came out to my siblings.  They seemed to react positively.  So that’s cool.  My mom’s birthday was Tuesday, I sent her a Happy Birthday message asked if she wanted to get dinner.  I didn’t hear back until Friday, and long story short, we don’t have the best relationship and I was suspecting she was up to some chicanery.  All day, I had a line from Forgetting Sarah Marshall stuck in my head “When life gives you lemons, say “fuck the lemons’ and bail.”  It kept repeating over and over.  I realized my mom was the lemons and I just needed to get her out of my life.  So I’d just come out on Facebook without telling her first. My mom is a church lady obsessed with public image.  And what better way to injure her image is by having a transgender child who didn’t come out to her before announcing it to the world.  Back when we were going to church, she got incensed with my and my sister when we got baptized at the last minute without telling her first so she looked like a punk in front of her friends because she didn’t know it was gonna happen.  I can only imagine what this will do. So I made a light hearted post first, and then I made another post today clarifying that this was a real thing.  I made a new facebook profile and directed people who still wanted to be friends to it.  And a lot more people than I thought added me.  Including a lot of people that I am surprised by the fact they added me, like an ex who sent me a very supportive message and sent me some resources.  I also got some bad news in that I didn’t hear back from a job I wanted, and I should have heard back by today.  Its been a bit of a roller coaster so I just kind of decided to chill tonight.  I took a shower and a shave and for the first tie, I was starting to like who I was seeing in the mirror.  Since then its just been a great night. It’s about 4:20 AM as of the time of writing this.  And I’m just looking at pictures of other beautiful trans girls online and its starting to hit me, that could be me in a year.  Its actually happening.  I’m becoming who I always wanted to be.  It fills me with such an overwhelming amount of indescribable joy.  I love being alive right now.  I love being me.  And its only going to get more awesome.