Writing and Journals

(not chronological--newest written stuff on top)

For all of Jin's songs, go here!

Ilianna (Paste here)
From the corner of his eyes, Salzungen spotted Everlyn pacing back and forth, away from the round table where everyone is talking and preparing for the upcoming battle.

"Is everything okay?" He asked as he approached Everlyn.

"I'm worried, Sal." Everlyn sighed as she stopped pacing to face him. "Are we doing the right thing?

Salzungen reached out to her face and gently brushed some loose strands of hair and tucked them behind her ears.

"What about Ilianna? I trust Ren and the rest of monastery, but is this really alright?" A sparkle of panic gleamed through her eyes, "what if... what if we..." Before she could finish her sentence, Salzungen raised his finger and placed it in front of her lips

"My dear, it is alright. I know leaving Ilianna was a hard choice to make, but times are desperate and not even the elves can afford to be recluse any longer. Fyriodien may think closing our borders and hiding within the Trine woods to be a viable strategy, but these things are many and each a force of nature in it's own right. If those of us with a shred of power to stand and resist do nothing, then all of Vordain will surly burn.

Little Ren will do well teaching Ilianna the basics, then when she becomes more able we can take over her training ourselves. He was the star pupil of master Kon, although I will admit those lessons did not transfer perfectly into the real world, and he may be a little rigid in his thinking.

We need to focus and do our best to we may return to Ilianna long before she ever needs us. Just remember, Fyriodien let slip that there are many of these. It seems like at least four, and even the Trine has a history of one of these things attacking. The day will come when the elves need to call for the help of others to defend our realm. If all fall before that, these things will carve the land up and swallow all of Vordain. Although we may not see our little girl grow into a woman, let us ensure that she has a place to grow up."

"I agree, Fryiodien is turning a blind eye and it is doing no one any good." Everlyn said, "I'm not quite sure why most in the Trine think that it is a viable strategy."

"There are at least four of these monsters. We will see one very soon. What do you think the others will be? Where are they coming from?" Everlyn asked these questions as her thoughts raced through her mind. "I do remember my father speaking about the one that attacked the Trine, although memories of this have somewhat faded... do you recall?"

"Well you know as well as any, our people are not the most forward thinking. Although we recall the past, we often can be mired in tradition. This is one of those cases I believe. by putting so much faith in the high council and allowing them to dictate our actions with absolute authority and trust there is no dissent among our people, and thus if Fyriodien can convince the rest of the council to back his motion, none will oppose. Perhaps they believe that we could always retreat beyond the vale, but even then, we doom ourselves to die alone on an island surrounded by enemies.

I had only heard tales of creatures so monstrous and terrifying that armies were required from across the world to defeat these monsters. Even then I do not believe any relatives I have memory of have fought anything of the nature. Some claimed the undead that attacked with that Bolovich fellow was one of those creatures, but even that is unclear. My grandmother spoke of many travelling north some six or seven hundred years ago though not much is known since I believe the elves were still withdrawn after licking their wounds from dealing with the Zabroi.

Uhg, I am getting everything all mixed up now. I have never been great with all this history stuff. I thought you were supposed to be the more factually minded one of us. I wonder what your father could have been referring to. Did he answer Seram Bolovich's call to fight at Fort Fronde?" "I'm not sure what he was referring to," Everlyn said as she frowned a bit, trying to remember that context of her conversation with him, "it must have been those creatures... Perhaps his parents also told him something."

"Why do you think these creatures are coming about, again?" Everlyn inquired, "have you noticed any significant changes?... Of course aside from these monsters..."

"Factually minded or not, when things get as scary as it does now, I tend to lose my wits..." Everlyn sighed as she stared off into space.

"Worry not my love. I wish I knew more, but we have combed every scrap of information we could possibly find. Even when the elves did not remember the Trine did. Perhaps Jalzevan and his order of Gorn's Grove would be able to ascertain more information, but there was a beast and it was of the ilk of the trees. It came about long ago, dating past when the elves kept record, but the trees seem to think that it never quite left. I know not if this creature ever came from the oceans before, but if it has it could be a harbinger of terrible things to come."

Laira
tl;dr: Laira's old self sounds articulate and remarkably mature. She tells her about her old mentor Koyvid, someone from another plane who taught her magic. Apparently this caused friction within the branches of her family tree, who were mistrusting of Koyvid and her kind of magic. Meanwhile, dark forces had figured out how to cast rituals instantaneously and--for reasons unknown--tried to obliterate the former Laira completely out of memory. Koyvid selflessly took the bullet for her and got wiped out in her place. In rage, the old Laira became sort of massive killing machine and took a lot of the bad guys down before they managed to subdue her.

Full text:
 * ((She hears a voice in her head which she recognizes as her own and tries asking it a question, but it doesn't seem to hear her thoughts))
 * When there is no response I try again, this time actually taking control of Arlyette's mouth. I try to repeat my question, but for some reason it comes out completely differently.


 * "Tell me a story," I hear Arlyette mutter to herself under her breath. "While we're waiting, to kill the time."
 * "Lady Arleyette? What an unusual request. I understand we have been working on my creativity to draw out further memories, but this is a very odd time. Is this perhaps utilizing the stress of coming battle to draw further memories out? Are you sure this is wise? What good are further memories if we fall in combat here? We have worked so long and hard to get to this point, is it wise to chance being unprepared?"
 * My mouth drops open--or Arlyette's does, anyway. The voice sounds just like mine--perhaps just slightly fuller--but otherwise...unrecognizable. Certainly nothing like what came out of Aila's mouth when I spoke--the drawling, slang-filled, offhand tone I had picked up from my first few months of freedom, spent mostly in low-end taverns and smoky gambling dens. I feel like I've just looked into a mirror and found someone completely different staring back at me.
 * To my delight, she responds.


 * "Well, the memories are fragmented,” the voice begins. “Broken and stitched back so many times that I can barely differentiate the stitching from the fragments.”
 * So I HAD recovered my memories in the past. My heart sinks slightly and I feel like that guy in one of Aila’s parables who has his liver eaten by birds every day, and regrows it every night just to have it be eaten again. What made me lose them again and how many times have they been taken away from me before now?
 * “I will tell you the tale of Koyvid,” she continues, and I frown slightly. I had been hoping she would tell me a heroic tale of herself, not of some other person. Still, mustering every ounce of my self control, I let her continue.
 * “Called from the far planes when I was but a young girl, Koyvid was my one true ally.” Far planes? I know nothing of planes other than this one. True, I have heard of beings being transported here from other realms of existence, but I’ve never entirely sure it wasn’t just an old wives’ tale. If this Koyvid had been called here, she was not originally of this world. Was I?
 * “Most around me looked at Koyvid and only saw a harbinger archon, but me, I didn't see her as a bringer of ill tidings, but a light to ward them off. Despite the protests of the many tutors and magic scholars my father had hired, I refused to relent.”
 * This meant I had studied magic. Is that how I had gained my power—by studying it like someone would a language or maths? Or had it always been a part of me? I’ve heard tall tales of such magical people—descended from dragons or other legendary beings—whose power flows through their blood, wreaking all sorts of havoc if not contained. Had my father—clearly someone of means—sought to enhance my powers, or simply to control the ones that lay within me?
 * “I learned most of my own arts from Koyvid,” she continues, and her voice carries a touch of fondness. “Although my differences caused more friction between the branch family and the main."
 * Family. I’ve honestly never thought about who my parents might have been—mothers and fathers have always sounded too mundane to have played a role in my past. But clearly my family had been important: nobody talks about “branch” or “main” unless some has bothered to map out the tree. And despite my father’s considerable efforts, it seems Koyvid had been the one that really shaped my magic. But what “differences” was my old voice referring to? And from who—from her, or from my own family? And had this Koyvid MADE me different somehow or had I been different all along?
 * “But days continued and forces moved in the dark,” she says, and the tone of her her voice darkens. “Eventually unbeknownst to me, some ritualistic casters had perfected a way to shorten rituals into a single moment.”


 * I’ve performed ritual spells, of course—Augury and such. The process usually takes me several minutes. How had someone managed to make them instantaneous?


 * “They came in a blink of an eye and arrived in a clap of thunder,” the voice says, “and immediately tried to destroy me.”
 * I feel Arlyette’s heart beat faster in her chest—in rage, excitement, or both. I had posed some sort of threat to someone very significant. Which means—and I swell with pride and relief—that I was right to think I had been powerful.
 * “...Not just my physical body,” she adds, “but everything about me, my memories, memories of me, everything.”
 * I blink, wondering if I’ve heard that wrong. I can see wiping someone’s memories, but how does one erase all memories OF a person in one fell swoop? That kind of magic...
 * “Koyvid responded faster than anyone could react,” says my old voice, speaking faster now, “feeling the unusual tugs on the ley lines. Unable to prevent the casting, Koyvid physically blocked the spell and was obliterated in the blink of an eye.”
 * Koyvid. I squeeze my eyes together. The more I grasp at the memory, the farther she recedes—its like trying to remember a fading dream. I mouth her name again. Koyvid, feeling the ley lines. Koyvid, taking the spell meant for me.
 * “The moment allowed my rage to take over,” she continues, “I felt the transformation begin. How many I was able to kill escapes me, but with their numbers dwindled, they were only able to imprison me instead of destroy my very existence.”
 * Transformation. The word echoes in my head and my heart picks up again. Did she mean a literal transformation, or was that just a turn of phrase? Transformation...in response to rage? Into what? Into an army-decimating killing machine, or into the broken gem I had become afterwards?
 * “So now I am here,” finishes the voice, tinged with sadness. “The only one with memory of my beloved Koyvid, and still existing in this plane due to her heroism.”
 * I had loved Koyvid. And clearly, she had loved me. I numbly try, and fail, to dredge up that emotion. To love someone means to make yourself dependent on them....and didn’t power mean making everyone else depend on YOU, without the reverse?
 * I don’t even like letting other people heal me. I can’t even conceive of someone dying for me.
 * Her story finished, the voice in Arlyette’s head pauses. The questions that have bubbled up in me fight one another like a mob trying to stampede through a single doorway. I don’t have nearly enough time to ask them, and I find myself temporarily mute.
 * “Now steel yourself,” she tells me. “If you fall, so does all we have worked for. There is much more than two lives at stake here. Let us restore all of Vordain and prevent this awful blackened flow."
 * “W-wait,” I manage to say “There is still time!” I can’t go into battle yet. I have so much more to ask. I work my mouth, trying with some difficutly to force out questions that the Arlyette of memory would never have asked. “First tell me again why they wanted to destroy you. It’s important. Please.”
 * I think this is the first time I’ve ever said “please.”
 * (in progress)


 * "I wish I knew. I can't even remember who I was, let alone what the conflict could be. Something deep inside wants to say they wanted something from me, but I can not fathom why I needed to be removed so extremely to get what they needed. 
 * When I think of the moment, the images fade, but I remember a tune or perhaps a rhyme.
 * Remember the waters bend
 * Sunder fires resolve
 * Shatter Earthen form
 * Abandon water's mend

Almost inaudibly she whispers something in a strange language. When heard runic symbols come to mind and although the sound is flowing and punctuated, thinking back you can imagine it wrriten completely differently.
 * There is more but those words are all I can recall. I feel like it once meant so much to me, but now I can not recall."

((Decoded the cipher!))
 * "qkjkjpkq tdk mia wsy sla akby"
 * "Re..... remember the old way and defy? What does that even... Why do I know what that means?" Laira thinks to herself. A rush of thoughts flood in overwhelming volume.

Effects, 1/8th Pendant of Laira(?) attunement required: ''Laira now understands Draconic. 1/day can have Aila and Laira cohabitate for 10 min. During this time both personalities may speak and act. The time must be consecutive. ''

(In)frequently Asked Questions
Q) Can you remind me what exactly we’ve been told about this battle (by Kahzave etc)? Is there a name for this particular battle/war/encounter?

A) 1) Not much was said. Urr asked you to partake in a ritual to make sure that you were ready to take on being a member of the guild. No one ever mentioned the Quavant or the specific beast. There is a name, but like many other things of the nature, it was not formally chronicled, and many of the accounts vary wildly to the point that many people in distant places don't even believe tot o have ever happened.

Q) Do educated people in modern Vordain know about this battle or about the Guild of Fools?

A) Older people may remember or may have encountered the guild. When the did operate they were deemed outlaws and criminals. Their crest was lumped with many other as kill on sight. There are many other forces represented in this specific battle but in Urr's recollection, the guild and allies appear. Many armies marched to this battle, and many of the crippled still live in Mavagavrin, they tend to keep to themselves and have a governing system outside of Mavagavrin proper. Educated and older people may recall or know someone who marched, but very few people returned, and the accounts are widely varying.

Q) We’ve been in this memory for a while by now so are we starting to remember some relevant things about all the characters (names, backgrounds, classes and abilities)?

A) Your memories are not shared. By observing and acting things out you can infer names and get a sense of whom they were. You can see the person and see how they carry themselves in battle. Things like swordplay would be observable as well as magical prowess, especially to the PCs who are "watching".

Sketch
The request was: draw the team taking a selfie with the gibbering mouther sneaking up behind. Added one of owen too so he wouldn't feel left out!



it was drawn with one finger pls no bully

Dino: Putting Down the Sword
We returned to town weary and worn. There was so much excitement when we first headed out on this quest, and now I look at the tired faces--fewer faces than before--and I wonder what we just walked into. I don’t even remember how we got out of there, it was all so chaotic and dark and I am thankful simply to be alive! These swords [swinging them from my hand like keys on a chain] are going to get me killed one of these days. At the enclave they taught me how to defend myself from common thieves and highway bandits, but I am not prepared to fight these...evils...that seem to be everywhere we turn. Looking around, there are so many soldiers here. I guess it is a fortress, so that makes sense. But they’re all so big, so strong, so armored and toughened by this lifestyle. I pull at my own studded leather, which is a bit too large and ill-fitting and falls flaccid against my skin. Any one of them could pull my up by the scruff of my neck and put me where he wants, like a feral dog. I don’t think I can cut it...hehe...out here.

No, Dino, this is not the time to give up. Your brush with death is an awakening! What would your brothers say if they watched you bullishly charge forward over and over and over again at creatures five times your size and powered by dark magics! Oh there would be name calling after that--Dino Shortarms, Dino Smallstride, Dino Lambpretendingtobewolf.

Think Dino, think! What would you do in Stoneside when your tools don’t fit the job? Find new tools of course! There haven’t been any gnomes around, though. There are traders here, though. This town is ripe with passerbys, someone must have left something...fun!

There was an old peddler’s shop in town with a faded sign and a worn entrance that sunk into the ground, like half a burrow sitting beneath a much larger building. I recognized it from the smell, an acrid smoky smell, but not smoke itself. Just the lingering remnants that seeped out of the cracked door. I walked in.

The woman was alone in here sitting at a desk in the back. She was short and old, although she moved deftly and came to greet me. Now that I look at her a bit more closely, she might actually be much younger than I first thought. Hmm.

“Can...can I help you?” she asked, genuinely curious.

“That smell, it reminds me of home.”

“Ah yes, that would make sense. It’s your people that brought me this smell, and I can’t be rid of it!” she exclaimed rather quickly. Her voice had a surprisingly youthful cadence. “What brings you down here?” She began to shuffle some papers together and stuff them into the top of an overflowing drawer.

“I’m at a bit of an impasse right now, I suppose.”

“Oh?”

“Near death experience, nothing big I guess.”

She laughed. “Ah, one of those! You, me, and everyone within a day’s ride of here!” She continued to hurriedly stash papers away from her desk. Then as if a fuse ignited, her expression turned stone cold and cautious. “...Who did you say you are again?”

“Dino Fierybottom, m’lady! From Stoneside.”

She looked around and relaxed just the slightest bit. Then she walked over and quietly shut the door and pulled an iron latch across it. I could feel my heart begin to thump loudly, but I smiled and offered a hand to her. “It was really nice to meet you, but I should probably…”

“We don’t get many gnomes around here,” she interrupted. “Who are you here with?”

I explained the misfit band of travelers that I found myself in the company of, and that after my parents’ deaths I had adopted a more solitary life of wanderlust.

That’s when the door in the back, that I had not noticed until now, burst open, and a smallish figure backed away from a cloud of sulfurous smoke chasing him out. The diminutive man grabbed two buckets of water, conveniently sitting outside the door, and threw them into the billowing blackness. The smoke turned to gray then to steam.

“I knew it! Alchemical fire!” I exclaimed eagerly. The man and the woman looked at me, then their faces softened. After a pause, she started to laugh and relax as though nothing had happened.

“Mr. Fierybottom, Dino I suppose, my name is Ryla, and this is my assistant Kevork. Together we run this little hole in the wall.”

“So what is this little ‘hole in the wall’?”

“Oh, we sell assorted goods brought by the traders. That,” she pointed at the settling steam coming from the back, “didn’t frighten you?” Then after a moment, “Of course! This is a product of your people.”

“Well, that’s a bit of an overgeneralization,” I murmured, “but yes, ‘my people’ make all sorts of gadgets, gizmos, widgets, woznos, and anything that we can a’tinker! What are you doing with it here?”

Ryla and Kevork looked at each other, then Ryla shrugged and spoke. “At this point we really don’t have much more to lose, so I may as well be up front with you. After all, if anyone is going to appreciate our businesses, it would probably be you. Like I said, we don’t get a lot of tinkerers out here. I inherited this trading post from my father, who inhereted it from his father, and so on. ‘It’s in your blood!’ my father would exclaim. Well, he died when I was hardly an adult and left me his shop to run. The problem is,” she paused, “there is nothing on Vordain I would want to do less than run a trading post!” She sort of laughed, but in a self-pitying way. “I saw all the goods come in and out, but it brought me no satisfaction. Once in awhile I would get something odd, and for weeks I would study it to learn how it worked. Then I thought, ‘I bet you could build one of these, it doesn’t look so hard!’ I ended up making things on the side, small things, trinkets really, and solf one to one of my wealthier customers. Not from royalty or anything, just one of those guys who seemed rich. He liked my work and commissioned me to do more work. After awhile, he stopped caring about the trinkets but continued to pay me to study the technologies that went into them. Now this was all by courier, so I never once saw my patron after that, and he gave me enough to hire a set of helping hands.” Kevork smiled. “The only problem is, people ‘round here don’t like this sort of stuff. They call it wizardry and dark magic, and more than once I’ve had to shoo away someone who was looking for trouble. So now we keep a low profile, sell wares in the front, study the more nuanced aspects of this world in the back.”

“That’s,” I paused. “That’s just about the greatest thing I’ve heard since leaving Stoneside!”

“Well, it was the greatest thing,” Ryla began slowly. “Until our patron stopped paying us. About six months ago, no word or anything, just the couriers stopped bringing the coin and that was that. Now we’re barely feeding ourselves, but the studies must go on!” Kevork smiled at this.

“You know,” I began, “I like what you’re doing here, and I haven’t had a space for tinkering in three years. What if I were to support you two for awhile, I could commission you to help outfit me with gear for this hostile world beyond these walls. What do you say?”

It was impulsive, and my newfound riches were clouding my judgment. But I liked these two and seeing them work in the shop just softened my tiny little heart.

And before I knew it, Ryla hugged me with tears starting to well in her eyes. “Our patron saint Dino!”

We talked business for awhile, and I left enough coin to support this clandestine shop for about a month. I didn’t really need the coin for much else, especially if they could better equip me for the dangers my friends seemed to like putting me in. We agreed that they would continue studying alchemical fire, and I would check in periodically to see how things were going.

“Before you go, perhaps we can share something with you,” Kevork said, disappearing into the steamy back room. He emerged with a handheld contraption of sorts. “A pepperbox, I call it. It uses alchemical fire to launch these ingots of metal at your enemies. This will keep you nice and safely far from your adversaries! The only problem is, I haven’t really been able to test it as much as I’d like, so you should spend some time making sure it will work for your purposes before you use it for real.”

I thanked my newly commissioned tinkering crew, Ryla and Kevork Fieryheart, and I returned to town with curiosity flooding my head. I can’t wait to see what they do with this!

Dino and Laira: Fun with Guns!
Jerky, hardtack, old nuts, and some very questionable cheese…really? That’s really all he’s got in there?

I toss the sad little pouch of stale rations to the side and reach back into the bag, rooting around. Where the hell’s all the good stuff? We’ve been in town for a day already--plenty of time for everyone to have restocked on new snacks. Everyone who hasn’t just spent the last twelve hours learning how to pick locks, that is.

My stomach growls discontentedly. The Errant Fool is just a short walk away, but it’s the principle of the thing: it’s stupid to wait in line for food that can be more efficiently stolen, particularly if you’re on a clock. Which I am.

“Sod it,” I mutter, upending the pack and shaking it onto the floor. Dino has clearly taken most of his stuff with him, because it’s missing a few key items: particularly, his wallet (damn), his incense (well, MY incense), and the fiddly little tools he uses to make his contraptions (which, for some reason, he never leaves home without). In fact, most of the bag’s contents consist of odd homemade gadgets and what I consider to be an absurd number of tiny springs.

I’m still squinting at a particularly mysterious gear-driven gizmo when I hear the squeal of the door opening behind me. I turn around to see the bag’s owner standing at the threshold.

“Oh,” I say, as his eyes fall upon his eviscerated knapsack. “Um. You’re back.”

He’s holding a large, carefully wrapped bundle in his arms. Bread, maybe? But no--I catch a glimpse of shiny metal from underneath the cloth.

—

“Laira! What in the four corners of the world are you doing?” Her eyes betrayed her; she had the stare of a barnyard cat caught stealing cheese from the table. Nothing was stolen, I took most of it with me anyways. I don’t trust people in these towns, although most wouldn’t even know what to do with any of it.

I walk over as she takes a few steps back, not in fear or anything, but almost in defiance. As I gathered all the things back together, I could feel her watch over me. The pepperbox, tucked neatly under my arm, slipped from its linens and fell onto the floor.

“Looks like somebody’s made out well, where’d’ya snatch that from?” she asked, amused. Her toe reached out and poked at the firearm.

“Just some other tinkerers in town, I bought this from them, not really sure what to make of it yet. It’s supposed to do some pretty neat things. I was looking at it earlier and I think I’ve figured out how to use it, but I haven’t had a chance to try it…” I look at my upended pack on the floor “...yet.”

Hurriedly, I snatch the thing up before he can get any ideas. It’s a rather odd looking little machine, and I’m guessing from his wry expression that it’s some sort of weapon.

I think I’ve seen something like this before, actually. I hold it up by the narrow metal end, scrutinizing the elaborate wooden contraption sticking out of it. It looks expensive.

“Wait a sec,” I say, suddenly remembering something. “Isn’t this like that thing Aila bought last time we were here?”

I’m sure of it. It was around the time we’d adopted that nervous teenage armor boy. The cleric had visited a weapons shop and ended up buying a similar newfangled object, with no clue how to use it. Since then, she’s been carrying the damn thing around with her, and so far it’s done nothing but weigh down our pack.

The one I’m holding now looks even more sophisticated. Beautiful, in a way. Just like the sort of thing Dino would make, and I would steal. As I look down from it, I realize the gnome is watching me and I shift uncomfortably under his gaze. I still have no idea what the damn thing does, but I’m sure as hell not about to admit it.

“I know these!” I bluff smoothly, with superb confidence. “It’s one of the….those, uh…you know…”

I always get the unnerving feeling that his eyes are looking right through me. Quick, Laira, do something that looks like you know what you’re doing.

I put my eye to the tubular metal end and peer down it. It’s dark inside.

“That’s certainly one way to meet Quint” I said, grabbing the handle of the gun and sliding the barrel out of her hand. “Of course, you wouldn’t really get to see much of Quint if you did that.”

There is absolutely no way Laira has any idea what this is or how to use it. It might scare her witless when she sees me use it for the first time.

“It’s a pepperbox,” I say, casually. “Sort of an alchemical bow and arrow, except the arrows are these little ingots of metal, and they fly, well, rather fast. Faster than you could ever see. After these last few weeks, I don’t think I’m cut out to be wrestling with demons and who knows what else is out there. This should solve that problem.”

I show her how to hold the gun, although she doesn’t seem to grasp the point-and-shoot nature of this. It’s unloaded of course. I haven’t even had a chance to try it myself, but I’ve taken it apart several times and reassembled it. It’s well crafted--you can tell by the intricacy of the gears, the parallel lines of the tube, and the seamless way the rough wood interfaces with the metal. It’s actually quite beautiful, from an aesthetic perspective, even if it’s a bit simplistic.

“This way we can let Zia and the more accomplished soldiers tangle with the bad guys, and I can set up behind the safety of cover and support them from afar!”

-

“Wait a sec. What’d you mean ‘more accomplished?’” I look up from the pepperbox with a huff. “Shooting from far away isn’t cowardly, if that’s what you’re saying. I’d be happy to tangle and whatnot, I’ll have you know. I just figure...why let all my crossbow skills go to waste?”

I toss him his machine and walk over to my own pile of stuff. Pulling open the drawstrings of my bag, I locate and grab my own pepperbox--not difficult, given that it sticks a good two feet out of the top of my pack. A medley of loose medical supplies tumbles to freedom as I yank the thing out. It’s decidedly less attractive than the tinkerer’s, and I make a note to switch the two the next time he isn’t looking.

“Mine’s bigger,” I inform him for the record, then nod at the one he’s holding. “Well then, chicken-heart. Show me what you can do with that thing, then!”

-

Looks like it’s gonna be incense-o-clock pretty soon I think to myself, gritting my teeth and reaching down to my pepperbox. I’ve taken it apart enough times, I can do this! From my breast I hear a faint echo of encouragement. You can and you will!... What a wonderful broach!

“Alright alright,” I say. “Let’s roll the dice a bit here.” I load the powder and the slug into the chamber. I’ve never actually fired this before, but that makes it more fun! I mean, death by unexpected explosion is the gnoblest of martyrdom!

Hmm, hers really is bigger.

“Watch ol’ Fierybottom in action, m’lady.” I gave her my coyest grin and a suggestive wink.

With arm fully outstretched and not an ounce of honest aim, I pointed the firearm at a barrel full of sawdust and ice across the room, about 15 feet away. I looked away so Laira wouldn’t see me close my eyes and grimace as I pull the trigger.

The first thing I noticed was the tremendous force of recoil on my arm, my shoulder, through my spine… There was a deafening burst, the sweet smell of familiarity, and the now-airborne shards of wooden splinters and sawdust radiating from a tattered hole in the side of the barrel.

I stifled a cough and blinked the tears out of my stinging eyes. My whole arm hurt. Next time, I’ll bend the elbow. Note taken.

I turned to Laira, who was equally taken aback by the sudden burst. Smiling at her, I spun the gun around two fingers in front of me.

“No big deal,” I say, slyly.

As a deafening explosion echoes through the room, my heart springs up into my throat. For a stunned moment, I almost lose possession of my body as primal instincts take over, reeling me back, hurling me away from the source of the noise. Before I know what has happened, I’ve stumbled back into my own knapsack, ensnaring my left shoe in its straps, and falling into a heap on the floor.

I stare ahead unseeing for a second, blood pounding in my ears as I recover from the shock. My first thought is that something has gone terribly wrong—that the pepperbox has exploded, blowing up my friend in the process. As I pull myself together, however, I realize that what I am being pelted with is wood and sawdust, rather than fragments of gnome.

My eyes refocus onto Dino’s impish grin, and when I see the gun twirling jauntily in his hand, my mind finally catches up. Hurriedly wiping any inadvertent traces of concern from my expression, I scramble back up, letting loose a string of obscenities that would make Aila wash her own mouth out with soap.

“I really hate you,” I growl panting, my face burning I look anywhere but at his eyes.

-

“Nah, it’s easy!” I said. I caught the gun in hand and made a halfhearted attempt to holster it in at my waist. The firearm fell to the floor loudly. I hope she didn’t see me jump.

“I’ll show you, here.” I showed Laira how to load the chamber. She appeared to enjoy the devilish nature of our exploits, but she coughed loudly at the smell of powder. I rotated the gun so the handle was in her hand and pointed the barrel toward the tattered mess of sawdust and wood chips. “Now all you have to do is pull!”

--

I got down on one knee while the gnome fussed about my much longer, but much more unwieldy gun. My ears burned slightly as I realized that looking down the tube earlier had likely not been the convincing display of competence I had been intending.

Looking at the arrangement appraisingly, Dino cocked his head, muttering something about recoil as he nudged the butt of the handle into my shoulder. He hummed in approval and crossed his short hands over his chest as he stepped back and gestured to the wooden barrel.

I looked down the nozzle, narrowing my eyes in focus as a grin of anticipation crept onto my face. Slowly, trying to keep the gun still, I pulled back the small lever on the side of the handle.

to be continued- 

Laira Learns Lockpicking
The two mercenaries exchanged glances as they watched their unexpected pupil. Squinting over a practice lock, the young woman carefully moved the tiny metal rake pick back and forth, the fingers on her other hand applying steady pressure to a thin tension wrench. Clutching a number of other sharp implements in her gritted teeth, she seemed almost oblivious to their presence. “Stealing for healing,” Viola smirked to her brother. “Some trade, eh?”  The other mercenary shrugged. “Hey, as long as we’re patched up between rounds, I’m game.” As the pins slid into place, they heard a quiet click and a much less quiet whoop of triumph. Looking over at them, the girl waved her handiwork in the air with a toothy smile. “Easy!” “Well yeah,” said Vygior. “That’s the practice lock.” “Whatever,” said the cleric, tossing it to them and holding out her hand. “Next.” The second lock required a bit more guidance, but still not as much as they had expected for a beginner. Laira smirked as she tossed them the second lock and started on the third. You could do a lot more with the proper tools of the trade, as it turned out. Before the twins had taught her the proper technique, it would have taken Laira hours to fumble her way through anything more than a jewelry box. After this, most locks wouldn’t take more than ten minutes. Peering over her shoulder, Viola watched her pupil’s progress. “Breaking and entering part of your religious training or something?” she asked with mild curiosity. “Not exactly,” said the cleric through a mouth full of thieves’ tools. “But let’s just say that for a couple of years I had about a dozen locks, a box of hairpins, and a whole lot of time.”

Ilianna, the Drunken Fist
Ilianna sat in the Errant Fool, sipping a frothy drink she got from Shallic’ Govan.

“Saile, funny name” she thought to herself when she thought back to how the seemingly harmless bartender was hiding something just beneath the surface. The thoughts of a calm summer day’s lake, with a glassy still surface hiding a monster just a hand span beneath the calm reflective surface came to mind. Shallic had let her know that this drink will calm her nerves as she had had quite a taxing and stressful journey, to say the least. And so, without hesitation, she took a large sip of the “saile.”

Ilianna sipped the oddly bitter drink as she surveyed the tavern. People cheered and laughed with renewed vigor after Jin blew through the place and played with the 2 minstrels that had been seated, and now that copper coins seemed to shower into their coffers, they too seemed to play with a little more excitement. Illianna eyed a singular angry table in the sea of jovial feelings as she downed the last bit of her “saile.”

“What are you lookin’ at, pointy ears?” One brutish looking woman said. Her unkempt guards livery hung unbuttoned and slovenly dangled about her torso.

“Dem fuggin knife ears, always staring like they are better den us.” Another thug of a man slurred.

With what form of poise Ilianna could draw up, she stood and walked over to Shallic.

“Hava drink with a little more punch to it?” Ilianna inquired as she gently swayed side to side. Shallic laughed jovially

“Ere, this iissa gin. Made from berries, s’good for yah.” Shallic said with words stumbling over one another.

“Sa’gin, interesting name for a drink, do all drinks start with S here?” Ilianna inquired. Shallic chuckled as she began pouring it for Ilianna.

“Will this drown out the loud and boisterous bunch over there?” Ilianna asked loudly as she motioned to the not-so-friendly table, all of whom seated were still looking in her direction.

Just as Shallic was about to say something, the three people, two women and a man, stood up and stumbled to where Ilianna was standing. “Pointy-ears, yer got a problem?” Another unkempt woman said.

“Ey, if you are gonna start anything, it will not be in my tavern, is that understood?” Shallic commanded in a stern tone and stared intensely at the bunch. Her jovial nature had been replaced by the cool glare of a seasoned combatant. The man looked as if he were going to argue back, however, stopped before words came out. “Knife ears, hide behind er frock all ye want, but you gotta come out sometime, and we will be waitin’ for yah.” The three left as they slammed the door shut.

“A word to the wise, only fists and outside of the city walls, Ilianna.” Shallic said, as she emphasized the word “outside.” “If you don’t want trouble, don’t stir up a commotion within the city walls.”

“Thanks for the advice, Shallic. This sa’gin is good, mind if I have another?” Ilianna asked as she pushed forward her already empty mug.

“Haha, of course not! Here yah go!” Shallic grinned as her jovial personality came back.

08:44, November 26, 2017 (UTC)*** Outside

“Look who showed up!” One of the unkempt women shouted at Ilianna. “Dent think she’d come out so soon!” Another taunted as she waved her knife in the air.

Ilianna staggered from side to side as she made her way to where the three were standing. Despite her flushed face and staggering, she took an uncharacteristic narrow stance, nodding as if to challenge the assailants. The attackers jeered and moved to encircle her, laughing as she swayed slightly from side to side.

“This ain’t even gonna be fun, she can barely stand before we even got to er’” the burly man said right before the two women charged from either side. Ilianna dipped backwards as their attacks came in, causing the two attackers to stumble and collide into each other. Rubbing their heads, before they could even react, Ilianna charged at the woman with the knife, moving her arms erratically, and kicked the knife out of her hands; the knife flew so far that it was nowhere to be seen. Stunned, the two women charged at her again, only to find Ilianna backflip into the air. Again, the two stupidly collided into each other, only this time around, they charged so hard that they fell onto the ground. Moaning and groaning, they rubbed their heads and tried to stand up, only to find themselves on the ground again as Ilianna kicked both in the shoulders with a split. Seeing the two fall to their demise, the brutish looking man charged at Ilianna. Ilianna, still with her back facing the charging man, sways from side to side as she landed from her in-the-air split. Before anyone can shout to her that there was a man charging at her, she gracefully, yet still staggering from side to side, drew her fist and gave him a good bunch to his head.

“Wow look at her!” Someone shouted from the side. She didn’t know when there were so many people encircling her and the three of them. “I saw one of the women draw a knife and that girl just kicked her knife right out of her hand! What precision!” Another gasped.

And with that, Ilianna dusted off her white dress and walked elegantly back to the tavern, without a trace of drunkenness.

Zia's reflections on his first battle
As the panicked soldier started off through the pass, Zia took a few brief moments to collect himself and followed after him.

The Grey Raiders was a name long familiar to Zia. They were a notorious group from the south, and he had skirmished with their scouting bands numerous times during his guard duties. They were a dangerous and ruthless bunch, but nothing he thought he couldn’t handle given a competent group. But it had taken him by surprise to encounter them this far north, enough to muddle his usually steady aim with his trusty longsword. “What are they doing here?” Zia wondered. “There may be more laying in ambush up ahead… what if the Blackfire bandits are here” he worried.

Zia paused for a split second and shook his head, realizing his logic may have been derailed from the excitement of battle. “There is no way the Blackfires are up here.” he told himself, for he hadn’t heard that name whispered in years. Zia also knew in the back of his mind that he was not ready to challenge them yet, not by a long shot…

Zia focused on his surroundings as he tried to force these thoughts out of his mind. Zia glanced around to notice that every one of the rag-tag travelers he was in charge of was still with him.

They fought well, way beyond what his initial expectation of them was anyway. He had been accompanied by clerics and bards in the past during huge expeditions, and it seemed like the elven bard and female cleric could more than hold their own weight. There was something off about the female though, but Zia couldn’t quite place his finger on it. The agility and ruthlessness of the elvish monk was a pleasure to witness, especially since he hadn’t seen elves fight up so close before. However, it was the little man warrior who impressed Zia the most. He never expected such a little being to hold so much courage and strength, and realized he would have to stop viewing the gnome as a pitiable creature of servitude.

“Well, they might be worthwhile resources to have around,” Zia mused as they headed towards the frontlines.

Meet and greet Jin/Ilianna
Ilianna sneaks out of Trine woods

Jin is trying to sneak in

Chance encounter

Suddenly meet in a  clearing and we both think we are caught

Ilianna realizes that Jin is not from the woods and not full elven

Ilianna is too frazzled to question

But she tells him, “you don’t want to go that way”… then runs off

Jin looks in the opposite direction and sees a giant wolf running through the woods

Jin starts chasing after the pretty new elf he just met

Jin turns around and casts “tasha’s hideous laughter”

The wolf suddenly starts laughing at the nearest tree

We make it to Tradesmeet and find a alley to catch their breaths

Jin is still wide-eyed at meeting a real elf and starts smiling weirdly

Ilianna thinks Jin might like her and wants to dismiss it, but she is grateful to Jin for helping her escape from Wolf druid

Jin regains his composure and remembers that he wants to ask about his father

Did you just come from Trine Woods?

Ilianna, being naive and unguarded, answers truthfully, “Yes, I was running away

Have heard of the hero who scaled Knife’s Edge Peak to find the golden orchid

Yes! I have heard of that story, and many more! He also fought and defeated a red dragon with his bare hands

YES YES!! Is he in the woods?!?!

Oh no, legends like him travel all over the place. The last I’ve heard, he was fighting in the freezing cold of the tallest mountains on the edge of the world

I wonder if there are elves in the north.

There are elves in the north, in fact, I have heard there are many more half elves up there.

Jin wide-eyed, declares that he is going venture north. Ilianna where are you headed?

Yes, I am headed that way

Let’s head to the pass together then.

Sounds like a great plan.

I’d like to hear more of those stories

==