Excerpts

These are little events that take place in the universes.

Excerpt I
Waves gently lap against the sands of a distance shoreline. A hermit crab peaks out of its shell as dawn breaks and begins a steady scuttle across the beach, picking at whatever morsels the tide had left behind.

It is a fruitful day for the crab. More food than usual seems to washed ashore. It happily tracks through the ebb and flow of the warm waters, thanking whatever great ocean beast that must have died to provide the crab with such a bountiful harvest on this day.

The crab makes its way around one of the unusual boulders the big folk often come to look at and comes to a sudden halt. The air is filled with the sound of dozens upon dozens of seagulls gorging themselves on the feast that lay stretched out as far the crab could see. It quickly began to scurry towards the massive carcass sprawled across the shore as every scavenger in the area rushed to join in.

The crab gave a wide berth to the flock of seagulls pecking at the humongous, sightless eyes on the face that looked much like the big folk that often came to the beach, except much, much bigger. Instead, it found a nice, unoccupied section mostly hidden by a massive braid of hair and began carving into the pale, white flesh.

This is the happiest day of the crab's life, a sentiment shared by many other critters on the beach that day; the day Neri, Queen of the Giants, washed ashore.

Characters Involved
 * Crab
 * Neri (Deceased)

Excerpt II
* CRACK*

"Dig, you baseborn halfwits! Dig, I say!", roared Chief Radok, cracking his whip again for emphasis as he peered down at the cluster of goblins frantically digging away in the slowly growing hole. As he watched, one of the smaller mongrels suddenly keeled over and fell to the ground unconscious. The hobgoblin captain ground his teeth together as his whip cracked again, urging the remaining ones to continue working.

Radok looked up and past the other hobgoblins of his troupe, past the ogres hitched to large wagons, past the other tiny goblins, worgs and other assorted creatures likewise forced into servitude, to see the figure looming over them all.

The master was, in the most literal sense of the word, gigantic. Clad in ornately carved, plate armor the same dark hue as his granite skin, the amber haired fire giant stood facing Radok's motley crew, holding a massive adamantine rod in one hand. Radok took a moment to stifle his fear and meekly began walking towards his captor.

"I'm, uh, apologies, master. These pathetic green-skins don't seem to know which of a shovel to hold on to." The hobgoblin stammered, from under the giant's shadow. The master studied him, apathy clear in his eyes, before he spoke in a low, slow rumble. "Their numbers dwindle by the hour. Such feeble creatures you smallfolk are." Radok winced as the master finally moved, turning around to peer over the precipice of the cliff they had been digging into for days on end. "Many more of your kind lurk nearby. Dispatch your soldiers to convince them to join our cause. The excavation must continue." Radok scrambled to comply, shouting orders at his equally terrified warband.

As the soldiers raced off to replenish their numbers, the digging crew continued hacking away at the frozen ground. The excavation must continue, he said.

The colossus must be found.

Characters Involved
 * Fire Giant
 * Chief Radok
 * "The colossus" (Mentioned)

Excerpt III
"Why won't they meet with me?!"

"Pipe down. Considering you've been here less than a year, you've made an impressive amount of progress."

"They don't seem to see it that way."

"They see more than you or I ever will. They'll call for you when you're ready, kid."

"When I'm.....have I not proven myself capable, time and time again?! Not to mention the items I've procured for-"

"Pipe. Down. Listen, kid. You're good, alright? No one's doubting that. Hell, one day, you might even be great...if you stop obsessing over that other boy. Myrkul's bones, kid. You're like a 14 year old milkmaid besotted with the city lord's 'oh so pretty' son."

"….I will not sit here and be mocked!"

"Is this even really what you want?"

"What?"

"This life. This whole cloak and dagger business. Always looking over your shoulder. Serving them. Is this really what you want? Or is this just another way for you to get at him?"

"I-"

"No bullshit, kid. Is this really what you want?"

"…I think so. I don't know. Like you said, I'm good at it. I enjoy being given the freedom to use my skills and being with people that appreciate me for who I am. Yeah."

"All right."

"And even if I were to say no, what then? Are you going to let me just walk away, considering what I know?"

"Maybe."

"….I could turn you in for that. Maybe that's how I get them to meet with me."

"But you won't."

"But I won't."

Characters Involved
 * Mitsu
 * Loki
 * Myrkul (Invoked)
 * Almond (mentioned)

Excerpt IV
"It's my arm, Brother Fairweather. It itches like the hells, it does." Merry gave the washerwoman's forearm a few gentle prods to gauge her reaction as he looked over the rash that covered her skin. "Hmmm, I think I've got an idea of what this could be. Let me just look through my tomes. Shan't be but a mo-"

He was interrupted by the sounds of a crying infant and he flashed his patient an apologetic smile. "The little one's awake. Let me go check on her and I'll be right back." As the diminutive cleric hopped of his step stool and hurried into the other room, Mrs. Yarrow sat back on her chair and called out. "Oh, don't worry. Take your time."

Merry walked over to the tiny cot he'd finished putting together just a few days ago and peered down to see a red faced, squealing infant clutching a stuffed wolf. He gently picked her up and held her against his chest prompting her to quiet down almost immediately. "Hah, cheeky cheeky. You just got bored in there, didn’t you? Do you want to come help old Merry with his work?" The baby responded by turning her head towards the door while simultaneously trying to stuff her entire right fist into her mouth. "I'll take that as yes." said a smiling Merry as carried her outside to see Mrs. Yarrow immediately perk up. "I didn't know you were a father, Brother Fairweather."

"Oh, I don't know about that." said Merry, smiling while trying to wipe saliva off the babe's pudgy fist. "Ofelia found me at the lowest point in my life and every day since has been better than the one before. Now, wee thing. Can you sit here with Mrs. Yarrow while I confirm a hunch." In response, Ofelia put her hand back in her mouth and Merry sighed before handing her off to a bemused Mrs. Yarrow.

"You're such a pretty little thing, aren't you. Oh yes, you are, my love." she cooed as Merry skimmed through a thick, leather bound tome. "Such beautiful eyes too. She takes after her mother, huh, Brother Fairweather?" Merry slowly closed the book, his cheer fading somewhat. "Aye. That she does... Now, Mrs. Yarrow. Your rash is almost certainly from an aurora ivy you came into contact with earlier this week. The hot water from the spring must have activated its effects."

Merry picked up a small jar of ointment from a drawer and headed over to where she sat, cradling Ofelia, who was now repeatedly slapping the woman's arm with a saliva covered hand. "Rub this on the affected area every night before bed and it should go away in about a week. Let's see that arm." Mrs. Yarrow moved the child over to her left knee and extended her right forearm. Merry opened the jar and turned his gaze towards her arm to find soft, unmarred skin. He smiled and said, "The other arm, Mrs. Yarrow. This ointment smells like cabbage soup. Let's not rub any more of it on you than we really need to." The washerwoman gave him a puzzled look. "The rash is on this arm. It's the one I've scratched Yondalla knows how many times. It's right h-" Mrs. Yarrow cut off abruptly as she too saw her arm, smooth and unblemished. "H-how did…" she stammered.

Thinking quickly, Merry took a deep breath, closed his eyes and smiled. "And thusly, she has blessed her loyal daughter, o' Yondalla, our mother and protector. Amen." "Amen." Mrs. Yarrow exclaimed. Truly, has she blessed me?" "She sees all the good you do for our town, Mrs. Yarrow. She cares for those who tend to her flock." replied Merry, picking up Ofelia as the washerwoman got up to leave. "I'll bring you and the little one supper later as a thank you. Good day, Brother Fairweather." "You too, Mrs. Yarrow." said Merry as the door closed behind her.

He slowly turned towards the infant in his arms. "Um, is there something you want to tell me?" Ofelia looked back at him with those big, too blue eyes of her, hand in her mouth, nonchalant as can be. "I asked for your help….and you helped me, didn’t you." Merry whispered a smile slowly spreading across his face. Ofelia took her hand out and placed it on Merry's face, her face oddly serious for a moment before breaking into a matching smile. Merry nuzzled his nose against her cheek making her laugh. "It's you and me till the end of the world, little one. Come on, let's get you cleaned up. How you manage to drool so much, I'll never know."

Characters Involved
 * Meryllium Fairweather
 * Mrs. Yarrow
 * Yondalla (invoked)
 * Ofelia

Excerpt V
“I have received word that another bears the shroud, and yet, our ranks remain incomplete. Perhaps there was a mistake.”

“Understood. Judgement will be forthcoming. Peace be with you.”

Characters Involved
 * Aisha Shepard
 * Eliezer Proctor
 * Almond (mentioned)

Excerpt VI
There was once a man from Calimshan

A man with butt one cheek

And as a lad, it made him sad

Till coin, it helped him seek

From Bryn Shandar to Sundabar

Folk came to take a gander

This man held mass for his single ass

Got gold every time he pandered

Up on high, his fame would fly

And his wealth expanded too

So why'd he feel, none this was real

His sadness only grew

Fallin',

Even to the sky

Leaves much to be desired

Callin',

A rose another name

The forest's set to fire

There was a man from Calimshan

He found a sturdy tree

He tied a noose, it was time to choose

The man chose to be free"

Characters Involved
 * The man from Calimshan is most likely the songwriter himself, "William"

Excerpt VII
"Alright, this is my workshop. Make yourself at home. Help yourself to any of the tools or materials. There's a bed and privy in the back. If you get hungry, or need anything else really, this is Junior. He'll help you out." Gon stared at the strange looking goblin, dressed in black robes and holding a thick book as the dwarf, Abu, left closed the door behind him.

"Nice to meet you, uh, Junior, right?" Gon attempted to crack a smile but stopped himself, remembering how his reptilian features would end up making him look aggressive instead of disarming. The goblin continued to study him, his face impassive. Gon sighed and slung his pack onto a nearby bench before sitting down to disassemble his hand cannon for cleaning.

"What is you?" Gon almost dropped his wrench when he heard the goblin speak up from right next to him. "Lady-fucking-luck! You are….light on your feet. Ahem, uh, what do you mean?" The goblin blinked once and repeated more slowly, emphasizing each word. "What is you?" Gon frowned little and replied. "I'm a…red dragon." He flapped his arms like wings and mimed breathing fire. Junior tilted his head slightly and said, "You is a liar." Gon stopped and frowned. "Actually!" He spun a dial on his cannon and heard in the internal mechanism lock into place. To his credit, Junior, only took the smallest of steps back when the cannon shot a gout of flame into the air right in front of him. "I've actually been working on the flying part too." Gon said, now grinning.

Junior slowly walked up over to him and gestured to the cannon and then the rest of Gon's equipment. "You is build these?" "Um, yeah." Gon replied, picking up the wrench again. Junior raised an eyebrow and said, "Hmmm. Truth." Gon looked up and said, "What? What's that supposed to mean?" Junior ignored him and walked over to his pack and seemed to look them over. "How is you learn how to make these?" Gon eyed him carefully and said in a measured tone. "They, uh, there were books from the town we live under-" Junior turned around and fixed him with that unsettling, blank faced stare. Gon sighed and set his jaw. "I just….know. I must have learned how at some point but I don't really remember. One day, I sat down with a pile of scrap and it was like my hands just knew how to put together a flamethrower and I had this surreal moment of understanding the mechanics of what I was doing. Like, I know the science but, I don't know how I know."

Junior's blank expression softened and Gon saw the barest shadow of a smile. "Big truth. Feel better?" Gon frowned, and then unfrowned, and then scratched his snout before saying, "Yeah, weirdly enough. I guess I've needed to say that for a while. I haven't really talked to anyone about things other than food or shelter or tunnels in…well, ever I suppose. Kobolds have a very limited scope of interests." The goblin looked mildly bemused and said, "And, Gon is not kobold." Gon chuckled a little. "Red. Dragon."

After few moments passed with Gon working on his cannon and Junior having settled down at a table and writing on his book. Gon looked up and said, "I actually would like some books, if that's okay. I imagine the selection here is much better than what I'm used to." Junior replied without looking up. "There is many books here. I is show you." "Thanks! I'm not gonna lie, you're the first goblin I've met that displays any form of literacy." Junior looks up giving Gon a very pointed look. "Right, right. Kettle, pot." Gon muttered, "What is that book anyway?" Junior put his quill down and turned the book towards Gon, showing large, neat letters in both common and another language he didn’t recognize. "First draft. One of several guidebooks I is writing in common and goblin. This one is about agriculture." Gon got up and walked over to where Junior sat. "This section is….a poem?" Gon asked, pointing a clawed finger. "Yes." Junior replied. "Is how people in Great Dale teach children about seasons. Songs is make things more memorable, I is learned." Gon nodded slowly, still engrossed by the book.

"Is you like songs? Music?" Junior asked. Gon finger stopped on the line he was studying. "I…..I wouldn't know actually. I've read poems in books but, uh…" "Gon has never experienced music." Junior said, the unsettling look back in his eyes. "I….Gon has not, yes." Junior closed his book and got up. Gon stared after him as he walked over to the door and yanked it open before turning back. "Why is you not coming?" Gon opened his mouth, closed it, and then hurried after him. "Where are we going?" He asked trying to keep up with the now speed walking goblin. "New bards in town. Folks say halfling is good with fiddle. If we is hurry, we is reach in time for show. Come on." Junior reached back and grabbed Gon's hand and broke into a dead sprint. Gon did his best to keep up, breathing hard through the massive smile that had stretched across his face.

Characters Involved
 * Gon
 * Abu-son-Wukong
 * Raish Jr.

Excerpt VIII
I: Your reputation is not unfounded. The master extends his appreciation for not only completing your task but for alleviating a thorn in his side.

H: You are far too kind.

I: We take it, the payment was sufficient?

H: Very generous, yes. And watching your…..shall I say, unique vision come together is its own reward.

I: Not all is well however. According to our friends in the shadows, every town from Luskan to Amn has your likeness plastered on their walls. They are coming for you.

H: I am aware. Hmmmm, perhaps I have spent far too long idling, simply….playing with my food, as it were. Yes, this may turn out to be a welcome change.

I: Understood. We shall notify you when your next target is chosen. Until such time, we trust you will stay productive?

H: The Lord's Alliance and their cohorts have forgotten exactly who I am these past few decades. It would be rude of me to not illuminate them.

Characters Involved
 * Illuminator Hyperion
 * Prometheus
 * A member identified as I
 * The Master (Mentioned)
 * Lords' Alliance (Mentioned)

Excerpt IX
'neath sundered rock and absent sky

'midst shadows cast by days gone by

pon a throne of stone and lies

There sits a patient God.

Characters Involved
 * "a Patient God"

Excerpt X
"What the hell are you doing here?"

I look up from where I'm squatting, a bundle of leaves still held in my hand, to see the loveliest maiden I've ever seen. Wait, no. That was a male voice. I squinted. Yes, the contours of that exposed chest were male too.

"What does it look like I'm doing?" I say, bravado masking my embarrassment at being caught, literally with my pants down. "You can't be here, human." The golden haired, uh, boy speaks in an imperious tone, somewhat blunting the effect of his very comely face.

I roll my eyes and pull my pants up, standing and looking him in the eye. "Since when can't a man come into a forest to take a shit? We, as a species, have been doing that since time immemorial." The elf scowls and says, "This forest is part of the royal estates. How'd you get in here anyway?" Eugh. The way he talks, I can almost see the silver spoon falling out of his mouth.

I feign ignorance. "Oh, my apologies then. I'm part of the trading galley that made landfall yesterday. Needed to relieve myself and just walked into the nearest patch of trees. Sometimes, my primitive senses just take over, you know, lesser species and all?"

If the boy understood sarcasm, he didn't show it. Instead, the scowl transforms into a look of surprise, and then, curiosity. "You're from the mainland, aren't you? Faerun?" "Uh, yeah." I answer in a suitably witty fashion, not at all affected by the way his face lit up. Did he get even easier on the eyes? Dammit, Bill. You're just a bit backed up is all. Not many chances to have a wank these past few week and now even this floozy is making you itch. It's a wonder you've been able to keep it together while meeting with all those attractive business elves. Or is it.…I don't remember having this issue with any of- "Hello? Are all humans as slow to process information as you?"

I snap out of my reverie to see that golden boy had stepped in closer. He seems to be studying my shabby unwashed sailor's garb and wrinkling his nose. I roll my eyes again and look down at his skinny form in his pristine, overpriced, white silk toga, his silly looking sash at his waist, and that stupid scarf around his pretty neck-NO! Bill, focus! Use your words. You're a poet.

"The downsides of not being a weak chinned, girly looking bitch, I suppose." Wow. Is that really the best-nevermind. The boy's jaw dropped. His weak chinned girly looking jaw. He looked mortified. I smile.

He struggles to compose himself for a few moments and I could practically see the smoke coming out of his ears. Okay, pissing off a noble, no matter how foppish, is not the best idea on your first trip to an isolationist, albeit powerful, nation. "Hey, look, I apologize. That was out of line. Let me make it up to you." I try my best to channel sincerity. Must've done a good job because the elf's face went from bloody murder to mild suspicion. "How?" He asks.

"Lunch. Come on." I turn and leave without waiting to see if he would follow. I certainly wouldn't mind if he didn't. Saves me a lot of trouble. "Where are we going?" calls out the elf as he jogged to catch up with me. I smiled and kept on walking.

We eventually end up back on the docks near my ship. I lead the nervous looking lad past groups of fishmongers, traders, sailors and a whole lot of other people he seems like he'd never been around before. How sheltered was this baby noble? I walk into my usual tavern, and call out to the half elf behind the counter, "Ho, Jaz. Two chickens, please, and a pint of ale." I sit down at one of the tables in the completely deserted room and gestured for golden boy to sit down. "My name's William, by the way." The boy nervously sits down and looks to be in the process of figuring out what to do with his hands. Heh, cute. Wait, what.

"Ganymede." I take a moment to absorb the name, feeling the syllables roll around in my mind. An uppity name for an uppity individual. "Alright, Galleyweed. You seemed interested in where I was from. What do you want to know?" Ganymede seems nonplussed by the butchering of his name. "Tell me about your land and your peoples. And your journey here too." He orders, the authority somewhat undercut by a slight break in his voice. I stifle a laugh, and tell him about the sword coast.

And he hangs onto every word. The way his eyes practically shone when I talked about the variety of cities and how the climate varied. I find myself wanting to keep talking about weather patterns and racial politics for as long as he wanted.

*CLINK*

"Order up, Billy." Jaz placed the platter with two whole roasted chickens on the table and scurried off. Huh, that's uncharacteristic. Jaz usually joins me for a chat and a drink. I looked back at the elf, who was daintily holding a drumstick with the tips of his fingers on both hands and nibbling on it. Just who was this kid? Eh, more trouble than I'm willing to dip my mast in, that's for certain. I push my chair back and get up.

"Where are you going?" Ganymede demands, obviously unhappy with our conversation coming to a close. Sweet, entitled lordling. I sweep a hand towards the door and the docks beyond. "I have duties to attend to. The ship awaits for her favorite son." "Oh." He shrinks back into his chair. He looks so sad. Why does he look so sad? Better yet, why do I care?

I reach over to his plate and grab what was left of his chicken and toss it in the  air above my head. I grab my chicken with the other hand give it the same treatment and begin juggling both. Ganymede's face becomes one of confused curiosity. "If one in the hand is worth two in the bush, how much are two in the hand, provided the hand belongs to a man you found in a bush?" He seems to sink even deeper into confusion as his mouth opens and closes several times and then he burst out laughing. I can't stop the grin that splits my face. He doubles over clutching his stomach and start chuckling as well.

"You're pretty good at that." He says as he finally winds down, still grinning. "The trick with the chickens." "Of course I am. I have rat like reflexes." I reply with an air of pontification. "Really?" This bitch then picks up his glass plate and hurls it at my face.

The plate connects, square on my forehead and I black out for a second and fall backwards, mostly out of sheer surprise. I hit the ground, back of the head first and see stars. In the background, I can muffled voice calling out for help and footsteps approaching. A pair of extremely soft hands brush the side of my face and scalp. "Oh god, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Are you okay?" Ganymede seemed to be on the verge of tears. Well, serves him right. He threw a whole ass plate at me. Got me right in the forehead too. I could have died. Hmmmmm.

I stop breathing and make my whole body go limp. After a few more moments of checking for head wounds, Ganymede notices the lack of movement in my chest. He puts a finger under my nostrils. "Oh no. Oh no no no. What do I….No no no." Hahahahaha. This kid's about to implode. Okay, that's enough punishment I suppose. I really should be getting back to the ship. Enough goofing around.

I open my eyes just the Ganymede leans down and puts his lips on mine. What. What's happening. What. I freeze. His impossibly soft lips part mine and he blows a lungful of air into my windpipe. Oh. I blink and blow the air back.

He splutters and falls back onto his ass, still leaning over me, as I cackle up at him. "You were….you" Ganymede struggles to get his thoughts in order as I keep laughing. "You should have seen your face." I say, still chuckling. And then I see his face.

Soft, thick golden curls framing smooth, unmarred skin on his angular face. His bright golden eyes somewhat glassy from what had just transpired and a pink blush forming on his cheeks. His lips, still a parted, breathing hard. Those gods damned lips.

Oh no. Tymora's tits. What have I gotten myself into?

Characters Involved
 * "William"
 * Ganyemede Sunweaver
 * Jaz
 * Tymora's tits (invoked)
 * Homosexual Interracial Pedophilia

Excerpt XI
The book Yen borrows from the library is called 'Fae're Waeyn's Fairy Tales Volume 8'.

There's a family living in the woods called the Wunderbars. They have 5 children; Aegir(sporty boi), Bjorn(steve irwin), Calanthe(D.Va from Overwatch in that she was real good at games), Lydian(read a lot of stories and poetry), Yuri(just wanted everyone to be happy).

Their daily routine was just going out into the forest and doing their respective thing. Except on Moonday. On Moonday, their parents barred the doors and the kids were told that if they went outside that day, she would steal them away.

So yeah, life goes on until one day,mom and pop have to swing by the village on grocery run on a Sunday. They told the kids they'd be back sometime at night and left.

aaaand they didnt show up but no biggie, this has happened before. They'll show up some time today. Except today is Moonday.

So the kids wake up and they all start heading out. But then Yuri, the partypooper, is like "ya'll best remember what our parents done told us and stay in"

The children were all annoyed but they stayed in....for now. Sometime during the day, Calanthe snuck out using her hide and seek skills. Bjorn just got up and walked out after a few hours despite Yuri asking him to stay. Lydian and Aegir stayed but Yuri could see that they didnt want to.

He looked outside and saw that it was the nicest day he'd seen in a while and he thought, 'you know, it's too nice a day for anything to wrong. What ma and pa dont know wont hurt em'. He said this to his brothers and they all excitedly left the house to play.

So the kids played around in the forest for several hours and they were all mostly doing their own thing as per usual. As the sun began to set, Yuri went back their house and saw that noone had come back yet. So he just chilled for a while, watching the sun set on a grapefruit universe. By the time, it was all the way down the others still hadnt come back. Well then. And so the boy goes back into the forest.

He calls out to his siblings one by one with nary a response as he went deeper and deeper into the forest. He got more anxious by the minute cuz now it was night time in a forest with no light but the full moon occasionally shining through the canopy. It was also weirdly quiet. No sounds but his footsteps.

Eventually, a very spooked Yuri stumbled into a massive clearing and almost tripped over……a fence? Yep. A full on picket fence that circled the entire clearing. Why is there a fence in the forest wtf? As the moon peeked out from behind a passing cloud, it illuminated the clearing. Yuri saw that the fence he was leaning on was made of what looked like human bone. Skulls were hung on the posts that marked off the segments, their empty eye sockets somehow darker than the surrounding night.

Past the fence, in the middle of the clearing, the moonlight also shone upon a curious looking cottage. It was perched precariously upon two thick, crooked pillars so it was raised a good 15 feet off the ground. The cottage itself was large, and made of thatch and wooden planks thrown together in a very haphazard manner.

There was a small chimney at the top of the house through which a thin tendril of white smoke rose. Not knowing what else to do, Yuri hopped the fence and slowly walked up to the house, stopping near one of the pillars. He looked up to see a rope ladder slowly descend from the now open door. Yuri climbed up and into the dark interior of the house.

He stopped just past the door and squinted, trying to make out details in the dark but to no avail. He turned around just as the door slammed shut disappeared in the darkness. He panicked and flailed his arms about in the all too complete void, desperately searching for the door, a wall, a pillar. Something to guide himself by. Something to just hold so he wouldn’t be alone.

Something light brushed against his finger tips and he launched himself toward it, wrapping his arms around what felt like thin bundle covered in cloth. The mishappen shape felt cold to the touch, cold as ice. Yuri was struggling to slow down his racing heart when he noticed the cold breeze on his forehead. Puffs of air, coming in regular bursts. Like someone breathing. He slowly raised his head to stare up at the imperceptible darkness and the darkness spoke to him. "So nice of you to finally visit your dear old baba."

Yuri felt long bony fingers clutch his shoulders as a smile materialized in the darkness above him like a crescent moon on a cloudless night. Crooked teeth held together with what looked like barbed wire seemingly floating in midair. "Let's go see what your brothers and your sister have gotten up to.", said the same vaguely feminine voice that sounded equal parts like a dissonant piano and the sound of splintering wood.

He was roughly turned around and pushed towards a small lit archway that had suddenly materialized in the nothingness. He stepped through it into a massive circular room, much bigger than cottage he had seen outside. The stone wall had sconces attached to it at regular intervals with fires flooding the room with light.

The hands on Yuri's shoulders slowly turned him towards one of the many strange contraptions that populated the room. He saw his sister Calanthe, standing on her tiptoes on what looked like a large wineskin that was slowly leaking red liquid and deflating. There was a noose around her neck and it was all she could do to stand high enough to take a breath. In front of her was a large table. There was a funnel attached to the side of the table near her right arm, connected to which was a pipe which then led to the wineskin she was standing on. On the table itself was a large cage containing numerous rabbits, hopping around, eating carrots, being rabbits.

As Yuri watched, a gasping Calanthe reached into the cage and pulled out a struggling rabbit. Her other hand brandished a knife which she brought down in several clumsy cuts before managing to sever the rabbit's neck. She shakily held the corpse over the funnel and let the blood drip into it. Yuri saw that the wineskin she was standing on stopped deflating for a few moments as it refilled and Calanthe scrambled to get another rabbit.

Behind her, there was a tall glass box within which Aegir stood, clutching the rope that led to Calanthe's neck. He was buried up to his chest in gold coins and more materialized above him, raining down, burying him further with each passing moment. He was straining to breathe as well, eyes tightly shut with a death grip on the rope.

On either side of Aegir, Yuri saw his two remaining brothers. Lydian was wholly encased in a glass coffin save for his head. In front of him stood two figures carved from old, gnarled wood. Their features were worn but Yuri would have recognized his parents anywhere. Each statue had one arm extended towards Lydian, clutching either side of his head and holding it in place facing them, as he screamed. The glass coffin was filled with The glass coffin was filled with dozens of small furry shapes, crawling over each other in waves, biting and clawing at the boy's exposed flesh.

On Aegir's other side, Yuri saw Bjorn kneeling on the ground in front of a large yellowed sheet of parchment. He was bleeding from scores of cuts all over his body, forming a shallow pool beneath him. Spiderweb like strings descended down from some unknown height were tied to his arms, his legs, his fingers, and his head. The strings tugged and Yuri saw Bjorn's arm spasm and begin to rise at an unnatural angle. There was an ornate fountain pen held in his hand, its large, metal nib shining in the firelight, just before Bjorn rammed it into his thigh with a howl. The strings once more, causing Bjorn the yank the pen out and move it to the parchment. In one long, slow stroke, he drew a large circle in blood, on top of the bloody circle he seems to have drawn before, maybe the same one he has been drawing over and over again.

As Bjorn raised the pen to refill it, Yuri's gaze moved to a large guillotine like blade suspended above him. An identical one hung over Lydian. Following the ropes the blade was attached to, Yuri saw that they were connected to the one Aegir was so desperately holding.

"All these years, I've looked out for you, my dear children. All these years, you've behaved so well. Especially you, dear boy. Even today, you tried. Baba knows you tried. But…you've always been one to be caught in passing currents, haven't you? Tossed along like a fallen leaf, never in the direction of your own choosing. My dear, dear boy, always so eager to please.

Except today. Today, you misbehaved. Just like your brothers. Just like your sister. And just like them, you'll get the punishment you deserve."

The hands on Yuri's shoulders suddenly tightened and he felt a bone chilling cold wash over him. The hands continued to tighten until there was an audible crack. Yuri screamed. He continued to scream until his scream turned into a howl, cut off with a yelp as he was dropped to the ground.

The disembodied crescent appeared once again, floating in the void that encapsulated Baba Yaga's towering form. The tiny beagle with Yuri's eyes cowered beneath that smile.

"You will be good boy from now on, won't you?"

Characters Involved
 * Aegir (Almond)
 * Bjorn (Ben)
 * Calanthe (HD)
 * Lydian (Lox)
 * Yuri (Yen)
 * Mother
 * Father
 * Baba Yaga (Archfey)

Excerpt XII
The half orc girl picked up the bar stool that had fallen over during brawl. She looked around to see that no one had gotten up before sitting back down. "W-w-w-what will it be m-m-miss?", the woman behind the counter stuttered.

The girl reached into a pouch on her belt and took out a card with an exclamation mark on it. She rubbed her chin for a few seconds and then held it in front of the woman. Symbols appeared on the borders of the card and lit up.

"I'm on the rag!", the voice of a women came from the card and echoed throughout the room, shattering the ongoing silence. The girl's face shifted from its normal gray to a pinkish tone as she hastily scribbled a mark on the card before tucking it away and reaching for another card.

By the time she held up an identical looking card to the last one, there was scattered laughter coming from behind her, which was hastily stifled when she turned around. Turning back to the woman, who seemed less frightened of her now, the girl hesitantly held the card up. It lit up, just like the one before, and…

"Mead.", the voice of an annoyed sounding man came from the card. The girl let out a relieved sigh.

Characters Involved
 * Joane the Orc

Excerpt XIII
Characters Involved
 * Toytere
 * 3 unknown individuals
 * HD

Excerpt XIV
No amount of wishful thinking stopped the rain from pelting down on Sigrid's head.

Three days of walking down this miserable path with her companions and they didn’t seem to be getting any closer to a settlement. The storm that started at dawn showed no sign of ceasing. She had half a mind to just give up, lie down in the mud, and let the rain wash her away. "Oh, for fucks sake! Can we just stop and rest?", Irene yelled out from where she was using Sigrid's considerable height to block some of the rainfall.

"Ah, yes. Stop and rest so that some wandering beast or bandit can kill us." Roland muttered, shifting his well laden travel pack from one shoulder to the other. Irene replied with an eloquent, "Shut up, tree hugger!", which started their twenty first fight of the day.

Gods be good, I haven’t had breakfast yet, Sigrid thought, a familiar ringing in her ear letting her know she was close to losing her temper.

"Don’t tell me to shut up! It’s your fault we missed the wagon! Who decides to get black-out drunk on the day that they're supposed to go adventuring, Irene? we spent an entire day looking for you!"

"If it was that important to you two, why didn’t you just leave without me?"

"This party isn’t complete without you."

Silence fell over them at Roland's words, and Sigrid turned around to see her companions no longer walking, but looking deep into each other's eyes and blushing. This was very quickly becoming the worst day of Sigrid's life. The ringing in her ears was turning violent and the urge to just call it quits got stronger with every miserable step.

Maybe the universe will be merciful just this once, and strike me with pneumonia and end it all.

Without a word, she turned back and continued walking, only to see what looked like three figures on horseback approaching them. Bandits, she immediately thought, reaching for her battle-axe. ''Kill the people. Take the horses. Maybe that will win her some level of recognition and all this time spent walking in cold rain will be worth it and why were those two idiots still staring at each other''-

The figures reigned in in front of her. “You’re not bandits.” Sigrid said, eyeing the trio, a friendly looking dwarf in comfortable looking travel garb flanked by two guardsman.

“And neither are you.” The dwarf replied. His guards kept a wary eye on Sigrid and one conspicuously moved his cloak aside to display the sword as his belt. “Why are you on this road in the middle of a storm?”, asked the dwarf. “We were supposed to be on the road three days ago, but things happened and we missed our ride.” She replied, looking at the him and his guards all dry under their oiled cloaks. Even their horses had cloaks. There was no justice in the world.

The dwarf raised his eyebrows at her answer. “Three days ago, you say? You folks could have helped save our town, had you been on time.”

“What.”

“Giants throwing boulders at us, being kidnapped by goblins, attacked by a band of orcs, infiltrated by operatives of the Black Network - Nightstone would have perished if those brave adventurers hadn’t saved us three days ago. Their first adventure too! Who would’ve thought, huh?”

Sigrid’s vision was starting to go red. The ringing was all she could hear now. Count to ten, she reminded herself. Oh, the dwarf was still talking. “I didn’t catch what you said, sir.” She said, blinking the red out of her vision. He smiled patiently at her. “The name’s Morak Ur’gray, mayor of Nightstone. I was saying that you and your friends could stay in the town until the storm passes. Just know that we’re still rebuilding, so don’t expect anything too fancy, hah! Now, I best get going myself. Lots to do and very little time to do it. Just go back the way you came until you see a forked road. Take the left and walk until you see the sign post. All right, be seeing you!” Sigrid watched as Morak and the guards galloped away. To their town. Which had been saved already.

Sigrid exhaled and felt all the rage leave her. The forked road, that was a while back, she remembered. It would take them a few hours to reach the town. She spared a glance at Irene and Roland to see that they were looking back at her with wide eyes, as if they were only just seeing how exasperated she was. Irene opened her mouth, no doubt to offer yet another justification for her actions, and Sigrid could see Roland gearing up to counter any whatever Irene had to say. The prospect of another argument was making Sigrid feel the beginnings of a head-ache. She was tired and she was cold.

“Both of you shut the fuck up.”

All the way to Nightstone, Sigrid heard nothing but the rain.

Characters Involved
 * Sigrid
 * Irene
 * Roland
 * Morak Ur’gray

Excerpt XV
Once…

There was a bard who lived a storied life, a life of tales to tell. But alas, his fable was cut short by death, untimely.

This bard found himself forestalled upon the road from life to death by two preternatural shadows, tall and foreboding.

One was the Lord of Knowledge, the Binder of What of is Known.

The other was the Matron of Ravens, the Mistress of the Fortress of Memories,

and thus she spoke.

"Hark! Thou hast cross'd a primeval line drawn eons past betwixt the Binder and I!"

And thus the Binder spoke.

"Art thou the tale teller, or art thou the tale? For all tale tellers are mine!"

"And all mortal tales are mine!"

The matron thus finished.

The mortal's shade recoiled away from this potency of divinity and proclaimed,

"I am both, o' King of Bards, o' Queen Who Tolls the Bell! I am both the chronicler and the chronicle he wrote! For mortal men to write each tale they do and sing each song, they must imbue each turn of phrase with a whisper of their souls! Lest all our words be hollow! Lest all our words be wind!"

The Lord and Lady took the measure of this man and his words and judged them to be true.

And thus they proclaimed.

"The keeper of the written word and he who keeps the writers must be one! We renounce our claims to these dominions! We relinquish them to you! Thou art thus raised from mortal to divinity, and thou art thus charged, o'  Patron of Stories!"

Upon…

Ascending to the office as the Lord and Lady willed, the being that was a man no more began to feel the threads of Fate and Fortune slide along their fingertips.

Their eyes could see the sands of Time and They could hear all the world.

Every word that was spoken,

every melody that was hummed,

every gesture that was meant to mean a meaning to someone.

But They could not move the shifting sands, nor could They make the world anew. That power was of the eldest divinities and far beyond this nascent god. But there was power in this station, this mantle that They wore.

They reached beneath the sea of Reason and brought forth a quill.

They formed, from Order, parchment pages and bound a boundless tome.

They dipped the quill in bottled chaos and listened once again.

The being that is the Scrivener thus began to write.

Time…

Passed for gods and men. The cosmic wheel spun unhindered save for bouts of godly whim and mortal triumph that were few and far between.

The Scrivener chronicled this cycle and all the cycles past, for Theirs was the story of all stories and the song of all songs.

They traveled all the land as They did when They were mortal, lingering on occasion to watch their favored stories unfold.

Only in the rarest of times, would the Scrivener stretch the limits of Their power to nudge a thread to serve a story. A whispered warning in the dark to a queen who loved her people, a nudge to wake a sleeping boy to ease his parents' grief, a push to free a turtle tangled in the fronds beneath the open sea it called home, and then there was her.

The Scrivener saw fire one night as They walked across the sky. Fire, and a girl whose cries went unheeded by the Black Lord's priests who claimed her as their own. The Scrivener, overcome with an echo mortal caprice, raised her to the sky with Them and took her to those They knew would care for her.

On later days, the girl would tell the tale of how the Black Lord saved her from the fire, how the God of Subjugation freed her from evil men. The Scrivener found much amusement in the antics of this pure soul, until They were faced with a thing they had not felt in ages past; Change.

This little girl was the first mortal soul to believe in this unknown god, this Patron of Stories. Though under a false name, it was the Scrivener she was devoted to. Their power expanded together, the Scrivener and the girl, in a symbiotic dance.

The Patron of Stories was thus a god in truth.

Characters Involved
 * "Bard"
 * Oghma
 * Raven Queen
 * Mei Chang
 * Bane (Mentioned)

Excerpt XVI
Day ???

My mind is not what it used to be. I have lost all track of time and space in this utter and complete darkness they have put me in. This prison has cut me off from the Weave. My captors demand my allegiance. They come every so often to torment me. They seem to really want my specific set of skills and knowledge. I have no plans to serve their accursed master. I still haven't recovered from their last visit,  a week ago? Maybe a day? How long have I been down here?

Characters Involved
 * Zephyros

Excerpt XVII
H,

Dear H,

Dearest H,

Maestro,

.

I don't know how to

I'm writing to inform you that

From the day we first met i

ojdfbzsbdakdnaksdakhdksndadakndkansdoansdaof

I want to be near you i long for you to come back i was nothing without you you gave my life meaning I

I

The Mission went well. Awaiting instructions.

.

Regards

Yours truly,

Tere

Characters Involved
 * Toytere
 * "Maestro" (Mentioned)

Excerpt XVIII
Head Scribe Viola's journal of cool things

Happy 8th birthday Viola

Love papa

.

15 Ches 1484DR

Entry 1:

Nothing exciting happened to day.

.

16 Ches 1484DR

Entry 2:

Nothing cool or funny happened today either.

.

24 Ches 1484DR

Entry 3:

I heard papa the vice-captain of the city guard, mention reports of a tower in the clouds,

I need to confirm this.

Will go sky gazing soon.

.

30 Ches 1484DR

Entry 4:

I did not spot the dumb tower.

But Chelsea, one of my agents on the field had an interesting found, near the sewer pipe,

Dead rats, their tails were tangled together.

mama, a lady in the city a gypsy told me that its a bad omen.

Eww.

.

5 Tarsakh 1484DR

Entry 5:

I got a report saying that strong gust of wind blew a traveler hat off.

and he was a skellyman.

only old man Ables saw, because the traveler was walking down the road next to Mr. Ables' farm.

I m going to rally my agents and we are going to go flip hats, skirts and pull-down pants of travelers.

we will find Mr. Bones before the tomorrow is done.

.

6 Tarsakh 1484DR

Entry 6:

We couldn't find the boney traveler because the guard arrested us.

the vice captain didn't agree with my methods and i had to hand in my badge and i got a week suspension.

.

10 Tarsakh 1484DR

Entry 7:

I saw a dragon fly over the city and descend behind the barracks

It was white and shiny

a crowd had gathered the barracks entrance and the guards were trying to calm them down

I knew a way around the barracks and through the city walls, without having to go through the barracks or walk all the way around from one of the gates

I got to the training grounds of the barracks and hid in a bush

Some guards, the captain, papa and a pretty elf lady with white hair were there

But no dragon

While searching the sky one of the guards noticed i was there and caught me

Papa was angry

But the lady told him it was fine

I asked them where the dragon went

The lady said she will show me the dragon next time

She gave me a pat on the head and left with papa and the captain

Papa told one of the guards to take me home.

The lady was unusual, her hands felt cold but also comfy in a way.

.

11 Tarsakh 1484DR

Entry 8:

Papa came back.

I asked him about the lady.

He said she received urgent news and had to get back to her city.

And she said she will be back in a few months.

.

28 Tarsakh 1484DR

Entry 9:

Something really weird happened today.

so, an elf fell from the sky last night a few miles outside the town.

the guards on watch thought it was a meteor.

and he fricking survived the fall but was unconscious.

from the info my people collected he is really old, like as old as an elf could get and he was covered in wounds.

his wounds weren't life threatening but he had old scars on him that seemed impossible to not have killed him.

I hope he wakes up.

I want to ask him some questions.

.

30 Tarsakh 1484DR

Entry 10:

The old elf left town last night.

Yesterday the town was really gloomy as if everyone had a funeral.

But no one had died.

Then last night I was waiting for papa in front porch.

No one else was out.

Then he just appears in the middle of the street, Infront of me

He limped a bit towards down the road and turned his head towards me

His eyes were milky white but had an unnatural glow, I would have thought he was blind, maybe he was but he smiled while looking directly at me, before disappearing again

He was the opposite of the white haired lady.

She gave off a comfy cool sort of aura.

But he was cold.

I told papa I saw him leave.

I couldn't sleep last night.

Everything was normal today.

Characters Involved/Mentioned
 * Viola
 * Viola's father, Vice Captain
 * Chelsea
 * Viola's Mother
 * Mr.Bones
 * Silver Dragon Maiden
 * Captain of the city guard
 * "Elf from the stars"

Excerpt XIX
CLINK

I opened my eyes to see two cups on the table mere inches from my face. Great, that's three days in a row I've dozed off during work hours. I don't even know why they still let me sit in this chair. Careless, worthless, stu-

"Hey! Hello? Don't tell me you've somehow learned how to sleep with your eyes open." I snapped out of my reverie to see a bottle of wine thrust in my face. The man holding the bottle had an expression of mock annoyance on his face, betrayed by his ever smiling eyes under those stark white eyebrows. I groaned and got up, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes. "Sorry, I must have dozed off. When did you get back?" I asked, taking the bottle. "Oh, not too long. A few hours ago. I went home first to clean all the salt and seagull shit out of hair. Have to look at least partway decent  when presenting myself before the Master of Magic, don't I?", he replied, leaning against the table.

I was still fiddling with the bottle cork. The blasted thing was stuck fast and the corkscrew just kept ripping out pieces of cork instead of pulling the whole thing out. "Come on." I muttered under my breath as the darn thing slipped for the 8th time. What kind of master of magic can't even open a godsdamned bottle-oh. Right. I snapped my fingers and the cork flew out of the bottle and gently landed on the table.

"Show off." The white haired man said, flicking the cork across the table towards me. I grimaced and turned to where he had placed the cups. "So, what did you find?" I asked as I began pouring. At least you can do this right. Maybe this is what they should have you doing instead running this place into the ground.

The man took out a weathered looking notebook from his bag and began leafing through the pages. He found what he was looking for and turned the book over, beaming with excitement. "A dragonturtle! Right here in the Moonsea! I saw it with my own eyes! I'm drawing up a proposal for the council. You'll have to help me secure funding for another expedition. Oh, you should have seen it. It was beautiful!" I was suddenly struck by his expression. The same look of awe as the child I found rummaging around in my library some 40 odd years ago. When did you get those wrinkles, old friend? When did your voice become so gravelly?

"It's overflowing." His voice snapped me out of yet another bout of inattention. Your mind is too far gone to be of any use to anyone, old man. "Sorry, what?" I asked. He pointed. "The wine. It's overflowing." I looked down to see that the cup was indeed overflowing and most of the bottle was now a puddle on the ground. Oh.

I hurled the bottle at the far wall where it smashed into my portrait of office. The deep red stained the canvas and distorted the paint, stripping it of my likeness. Good. You don't belong there. You don’t deserve any of this. All you have ever been is a failure. I picked up the cup, ready to throw it too when I felt a hand grasp my wrist. I let him pry the cup out of my hands. I let him sit me back down. My eyes were fixed to the floor. To the puddle of wine slowly seeping into the floorboards. I couldn't look up at him.

"150 years, Alex. It's been one and a half centuries. How long are you going to keep crucifying yourself over this?" His voice seemed distant through the ringing in my ears. I was still breathing deeply. My hands continued to shake. "Not to me." I somehow managed to say in a hoarse whisper. "It feels like yesterday. I close my eyes and I see him lying there. So much blood." My voice caught as the tears began to flow. "And I just watched him die. Centuries of research and spellcraft meant nothing when it mattered. Master of being a fucking failure is what I am, Ben."

He said nothing and knelt down in front of me. He took my hands in his and sat with his head bowed.

It was a long night.

Ben never left my side.

Characters Involved
 * Alex
 * Ben

Excerpt XX
Despite the mildly insidious nature of the circumstances that led her here, Sasha Vasiliev couldn’t help but admire the beauty of the forest when it was bathed in golden sunlight. She paused to take in the sounds of birdcalls and rustling leaves before resuming her path deeper into the forest. It wasn’t an ideal situation, the weather was too warm to be walking around in armor. She didn’t have time to rest and cool down, though.

There was a witch that needed to be found.

Not that Sasha has ever been one to jump in on whirlwind witch hunts, and she didn’t really believe that there was a witch in the wilderness surrounding the town. However, a few days ago, little Mercy Mayfield and her friends ran into town claiming to have seen a witch in the woods, and folks started attributing the town’s recent misfortunes to this evil mage. Multiple children in the same household had succumbed to a fever a few months ago. The crops started to wilt at around the same time too. Of course, any seasoned professional can explain these incidents. Some fevers were contagious, and deadly amongst children. The soil dried up during certain seasons. These things happen.

But the rumors of the witch had dug its roots deeply into everyone’s minds, and shed doubt upon all reasonable explanations. Every cough, every scratch, and every shattered plate had people casting fearful glances at the forest. So, it had fallen upon Sasha to get to the truth of this matter. And that started with finding this witch, if she does exist. Sasha hasn’t found any evidence so far. She searched the location where the children claim they saw the witch, but didn’t see anything out of the ordinary. What kind of proof does a witch leave behind anyways? With every second that passed, Sasha became more convinced that she was just chasing the figment of a child’s overactive imagination.

She was about to head back when something in the distance caught her attention. Was that a cottage? Hardly believing her own eyes, Sasha walked over to the structure to find that, yes, it was a cottage. Made out of clay and wood, with flowering vines adorning the walls and a rose garden to the side. There was a large black goat chewing on the grass near the flowers, but it stopped to look up at her with its strange yellow eyes. Suddenly, Mercy Mayfield’s voice fills her head, clear as a bell.

''“I’ve seen her! She looked like a corpse, and she was cackling to some dark horned beast. She had horns too! A she-devil!” ''

Sasha put her hand on the hilt of her sword, and cautiously walked up to the door. She quickly glanced at the goat, but it was looking at the roses. Taking a deep breath, she knocked firmly on the door and took a few steps back.

“Yes?” A high pitched, girlish voice called out from inside the cottage.

“Sasha Vasiliev, town guard!” Sasha called back. “I have come here on official business. Open this door and come out!”

She heard footsteps approaching the door, and thought back to stories from her childhood. Tales of evil witches, naked and pale, enchanting her into a dark room so that they can dig their claws into her soul and drag her to the depths of hell.

However, the figure that stepped out wasn’t naked, not that it made her any less enchanting. Sasha’s eyes wandered over the young woman dressed in a short white shift; to her smooth, ash colored skin, her slender limbs, and her wine colored hair flowing to her waist. The delicate yet sharp features of her face made her look like she belonged in one of those paintings that Sasha had never been rich enough to afford. Then there were the more unusual features; the solid black eyes, the spiraling black horns, and the tail.

Not a she-devil after all. Just a tiefling.

Sasha removed her hand from her sword and relaxed her stiff posture. She had a job to do. “Might I know your name, miss?” She inquired in a tone she hoped sounded polite. The tiefling fixed a wary gaze upon her before replying, “Marty. Marty Do’mur”. A witch named Marty. Sasha had to stifle a smile at the thought. “What does the town guard want with me? I haven’t done anything.” Marty continued anxiously. Sasha braced herself for what would be an uncomfortable conversation and started talking. “The town had some issues with wilting crops and sick children. A girl and her friends saw you here with some beast, so the town sent me to investigate.”

“Oh, so they think the evil tiefling did it” Marty snapped. Sasha awkwardly cleared her throat. “I…well…they thought you were a witch. I am starting to see that the rumors are not true. But would you mind telling me what you are doing out here?” Marty seemed to take a moment before talking. “I am a travelling druid. I spend my time writing about the various flora and fauna I encounter at different locations. When I am not doing that, I spend my time gardening. So no. I am not killing your crop, or eating your children or hexing your friends or whatever else they are accusing me of doing. I’m just writing my damn book!” Her voice broke at the last word, and for one mortifying moment Sasha thought that she would cry. But she composed herself before adding, “The goat is just a goat.” Sasha walked up to Marty and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. “They are wrong. And I am sorry for upsetting you.” Marty looks up at her. They are so close that Sasha can see her own reflection in those strange eyes. “What will you report back?” Marty asked.

“The truth,” Sasha replied with a smile. “That there is no evil witch in the forest.”

“And if someone still comes looking for me? Someone who regards tieflings with the same amount of disdain that they do witches? What then?”

“You can tell me.”

Marty let out an amused snort at that. “Why, what will you do?”

“I will make them stop.”

The bluntness of the statement wiped the amusement off of Marty’s face. She blinked up at Sasha, as if she was really seeing her for the first time. Something about the closeness was suddenly too overwhelming for Sasha, and she stepped back and took a second to spot the goat, who was now sniffing at the roses. When she looked back, Marty was tucking a strand of hair behind her ear with a small smile on her face, and Sasha was absolutely floored at how such a simple act was so alluring. She tried to regain some semblance of professionalism before speaking again. “I can acquire some sending stones. That will make communication easier. I can bring your one to you tomorrow evening, if you like?”

“Evening sounds fine. I can make some tea.”

“I have to head back now. Guess I’ll be seeing y- hey, Marty? I think your goat is eating your roses.”

“Wha- damn it not again!”

Characters Involved
 * Sasha Vasiliev
 * Marty Do’mur
 * Black Goat

Excerpt XXI
Lucien was going to end up killing whoever constructed the labyrinths of this damned castle. He stormed out of yet another one of his brother’s rooms, and was considering giving up on trying to find him when he caught sight of movement in Ganymede’s personal library. Upon closer inspection, he found his brother humming some tune that Lucien had never heard before, and dancing with a phantom partner. He did an exaggerated turn, and upon seeing Lucien, stopped his movements. “You seem to be having a good time” Lucien remarked, heading over to the nearest table. He picked up a book at random. ''‘Grimm’s Fairy tales’. I don't remember buying him this''. Lucien thought. He turned back and saw Ganymede looking at the book in abject terror. Lucien rolled his eyes. “I have read books before. I’m not going to damage it.”

“I’m not sure your dragon erotica counts as-”

“My what?” Lucien interrupted the snarky comeback with narrowed eyes, and Ganymede went back to nervously looking at the book.

Just get it over with. “I’m heading out again.” Lucien announced, and waited for the inevitable wailing and pleading. Last time he had to leave Evermeet, Ganymede held on to him and begged to be allowed join, and upon being told no, started crying and refused to let go until Father ordered some guards to take him away. Lucien was still trying to get over the guilt.

But no such protests came. The boy just kept looking at him. Maybe he didn’t get it. “Ganymede, I have to leave again.”

“Oh...Um... I wish you a safe journey, brother.”

''Huh...Why's he being so calm about this? Maybe he’s finally growing up.'' Lucien flipped through the book in his hand, reading the titles of the stories. Rumpelstiltskin, The Pied Piper of Hamelin, Goldilocks and the Three Bears…

“I know some kids in court who are your age. I'm sure they'd like to be friends with you.” Lucien suggested. Maybe he’ll be sensible about this, too.

“No, thank you.” Ganymede replied. “Father doesn’t think they're good enough for me”

“Why do you say that?”

“He told me, ‘I don’t think they’re good enough for you’”.

''Ah, well. That’s that then. Unless…'' “But do you think that they don’t measure up?” Lucien inquired. “Well, yeah” Ganymede said easily, like it was absurd to suggest that anyone would be worthy of his time. ''Just like Mother. They would have gotten along well.'' “Besides”, Ganymede continued, “Father doesn’t care about what I want. He just wants me to sit here and do nothing.”

Not this again. “Everything he does is for your own good.” Lucien said, though he’s starting to doubt the truth of that statement. “Tell me you understand.”

“I understand.” Ganymede replied dutifully.

Lucien smiled. “Attaboy. Maybe you can join next time.” He skipped to the last story in the book; Little Red Riding Hood.

"Get undressed, my child," said the wolf, “and come to bed with me."

"Where should I put my clothes?"

"Throw them into the fire. You won't need them anymore."

Lucien turned the page. The wolf was eating the girl.

He closes the book.

______________________________________________________________________________

Grimm’s Fairy Tales. (Blank page)

Ganymede my love,

''I dream about you every night. I count the days until I can hold you again. I hope this book keeps you company for now. Try not to miss me too much.''

Yours, William Wolfgang

Characters Involved  
 * Lucien Sunweaver
 * Ganymede Sunweaver
 * Arienthil Sunweaver (mentioned)
 * Ava Moonflower (mentioned)

Excerpt XXII
O goddess mine,

Accept this supplication

O goddess mine,

Accept that all my patience has run dry

I know that none can see the shifting path the sands can take

Like you do

You know the trails we blaze today are worth the souls it rests atop

Well, do you?

Take my flesh, take my blood,

You've never lacked my love

Take my eyes, take my legs,

I cannot look, I cannot walk beneath your light

Anymore

O goddess mine,

This humble fire grew beneath the splendor of your sun

O goddess mine,

I cannot burn for you

Anymore

Characters Involved
 * "Goddess"(Mentioned)
 * "Goddess"(Mentioned)

Excerpt XXIII
- - - - - - - -

Part 1: Prologue

As she feasted on the morning dew, a small blue and green bird landed next to her.

“Lady Mooncloak! The bigfolk is back” the hummingbird hummed in distress.

With haste, the sprite took flight.

She went straight to shrooms edge, but alas, too late for the mushrooms lay dead. She wept and hugged, then wished them goodbye.

As day and night passed by her, the mushrooms withered and turned to dust, but new ones took place of those she’d lost. Then, she took wings and flew once more.

As the protector of the circle, she’d bring her wrath to him that brought her grief.

So out she wandered onto world of men, armed to teeth with a single blunt needle. Everyday at twilight she would stab the man, but only just once.

Every day since, flowers blossomed from whence she hit. One day soon he’d be charming and bright and bring everyone delight. As a garden in the moonlight.

And so, the fairy was kind.

- - - - - - - -

Characters Involved


 * Lady Mooncloak
 * a Hummingbird
 * Yorkim Darkeyes

Excerpt XXIV
Hadrian: For the sake of the Seldarine, Aerin, stop flopping about before you get yourself knocked out again!

Aerin: Hadrian? Wh- what's happening?

Hadrian: You're in your room. You've been unconscious for a fortnight. You have won the war for us, though it has done a number on you.

Aerin: My family, are they-

Hadrian: They are...alive. All of them.

Aerin: Has something happened?

Hadrian: Your father will explain to you later, I assume.

Aerin: What's that supposed-

Hadrian: Nevermind that now. They are all safe.

Aerin: Is it really over?

Hadrian: Yes.

Aerin: A fortnight, though? Is that why I feel like shit?

Hadrian: Well, yes and no. Your muscles did go through quite a bit of atrophy while you were out, so you might be feeling a bit weak for some time. But the other injuries..well. It seems that our concerns were proven true. You're not yet strong enough to use the powers of Corellon. You ruptured both your eardrums, burst about every blood vessel in your left eye and fractured most of your ribs-

Aerin: I can't move my right arm. I can't even feel it.

Hadrian: About that... Your arm was charred down to the bone. The healers tried their best, your other injuries will probably fully heal. But your arm… you are going to have to learn how to use it again. Even then, we are uncertain about the fine motor functions.

Aerin: You're joking. I'm right handed, Hadrian. How am I going to do anything?

Hadrian: I don't know. Become left handed. I have something more important to tell you.

Aerin: You're going to have to give me a minute to process the fact that I have been maimed-

Hadrian: We are done counting the death toll.

Aerin: ...tell me.

Hadrian: ...one and a half million.

Aerin: What? No. That's…no. Most of us died?

Hadrian: Yes. Including most of our arcane class, Master Hector, the General… my parents…

Aerin: Hadrian, that's-

Hadrian: It's done. A bitter end to a bitter war. I've accepted it.

Aerin: But-

Hadrian: We need to talk about the relocation.

Aerin: The what?

Hadrian: Corellon Larethian's powers, not to mention whatever dark forces the drows unleashed, has taken a toll on Cormanthor itself. The water and the soil have turned sour. Trees and animals are dying at an alarming rate. We've started feeling it in the air, too. The clerics have been consulting the pantheon about it. We are to relocate, along with elves from all over Faerun. Now that you're up, I imagine we can commune with Corellon himself.

Aerin: Does that sound like a good idea? He tried to speak to me during the war, that's how my ears got damaged.

Hadrian: I know it's a lot to ask, but can you try? We are running out of time.

Aerin: Fine.

Aerin: Oh! What information did you get from the prisoners?

Hadrian: Prisoners?

Aerin: Didn't Lucien capture any enemy commanders?

Hadrian: He...wasn't himself towards the end. Didn't leave any of them alive. During the time you've been unconscious, he's been hunting down any remaining insurgents from around Myth Drannor and killing them, too.

Aerin: Well. What about the combatant soldiers, then?

Hadrian: ...don't you remember, Aerin? You killed them all.

Aerin: What? All of them?

Hadrian: Yes. There are no more drow in Cormanthor.

Aerin: I see.

Hadrian: You don't sound too upset.

Aerin: That's because I'm not. Who gives a fuck about the drow?

Hadrian: They threw down their weapons when you killed Iyauroth. They knew they lost. You could have at least-

Aerin: Oh, please! You think they would have shown any mercy to us?

Hadrian: I'm just saying-

Aerin: Anyways, Corellon wanted it to go down like that. Nothing we could have done about it.

Hadrian: Did you see Him, then? What does He look like? The paintings at the temples, are they accurate at all?

Aerin: Can't say. Only saw him from the corner of my eye, before that got fucked too. Some Champion I am. Doesn't sound like I did anything right.

Hadrian: You saved us.

Aerin: I just… I don't understand it! Why start such a pointless war?!

Hadrian: Who can tell? Maybe they wanted more land. More power. Or maybe, they were tired of the rest of us looking down on them and treating them like they were savages and monsters.

Aerin: Well, they've done a marvelous job of proving us right.

Hadrian: Aerin, do you remember that story Master Hector told us when we were children? The one about an orphan who was said to be cursed.

Aerin: I can't recall.

Hadrian: Nobody wanted her in their homes, so they left her out in the open during winter. And the girl got so cold one night that she set a straw hut on fire, but all the huts in the small village were also made from straw, so they all caught on fire and burned down while everyone slept inside.

Aerin: And what lesson am I meant to take away from this little story?

Hadrian: You know, I'm not sure myself.

Characters Involved


 * Aerin Sunweaver
 * Hadrian
 * Seldarine (invoked)
 * Lucien Sunweaver (mentioned)
 * Corellon Larethian (mentioned)
 * Sunweaver Family (mentioned)
 * Master Hector (mentioned)
 * Elven General (mentioned)
 * Hadrian's Parents (Mentioned)
 * Iyauroth (mentioned)

Excerpt XXV
Arienthil looked out at the sun. It was close to setting, low enough on the horizon to give off a golden light but still bright enough to hurt his sensitive eyes. He closed them for a brief moment, letting the pain recede before turning his face away from the window and looking at Aerin and Lucien.

"Come closer. I can't see your faces from over there" he called out to where they were still standing near the entrance to the room, "or do you two expect me to push this chair to get closer to you?"

The twins walk in, coming to a stop at the middle of the room. Neither of them made eye contact with him. Aerin was looking at some point above Arienthil's left shoulder and Lucien was looking at the floor.

"Are either of you going to say anything, or am I to read your minds?" he snapped, his hoarse voice jarring to his own ears even after all these years.

Aerin, ever the braver of the two, spoke up. "We still don't know where he is, father. The mages are unable to locate him, as am I."

"The Champion of Corellon Larethian, unable to locate a runaway child? Did you reach your full potential during the war? Is it a decline from here?"

"No, father."

He turned his gaze towards Lucien, whose stiff posture and averted eyes filled the room with discomfort.

"And you are here because...?"

Lucien's eyes immediately snap up, meeting Arienthil's for a brief moment before turning downwards again.

"I'm headed out again soon, for-"

"I don't care about any of  that, Lucien. Do you have news of my son?"

"I am your son."

"Oh don't you start now." Arienthil said through gritted teeth, the headache that he had been feeling all week coming back full force. He ran a trembling hand through his long grey hair. "I've had enough of this melodramatic nonsense in this castle. Why has the pantheon cursed me with only one halfway respectable child?" He stayed silent for a moment, breathing deeply and trying to calm the shakiness in his hands. The trembling was always there, but whenever he lost his temper it got unmanageable.

If only he could look for Ganymede by himself. A hundred years ago, this would have been as easy as breathing. Things were different now. His legs were useless and left him unable to get up from his chair, his eyesight was weak, and his shaking hands made it impossible to cast most spells.

A pale imitation of the man he used to be.

"If that is all, Aerin, I suggest you go back-"

"Actually," she cut him off, much to his annoyance, "I think we should wait for him to come back, since we already know he is alive. We should probably just wait this out."

"I am starting to think you aren't nearly as clever as I previously thought you were, and even then, I didn't think you were terribly clever." Arienthil rubbed his face, feeling all the lines and wrinkles that marred it. "Why would I even consider letting him stay in those savage lands for a minute longer? Anything could happen to him."

"I'm just saying," she carries on, "he probably just needs time to gather his thoughts. No doubt you frightened him with how you reacted to… you know."

Arienthil wished he didn't.

"How I react to my child's betrayal of my house, my values and my trust is none of your concern, Aerin.  You are dismissed. Go. Attend to your responsibilities.

Not you, Lucien. You stay."  He snapped when he noticed Lucien heading for the door after Aerin. He paused in his steps but made no effort to turn back to face Arienthil, the insolent child.

"You will look at me when I'm trying to talk to you. Don't think that just because I excuse this kind of impertinence from Ganymede that I would do the same for you, boy. It's not as if you grew up without a mother to teach you manners."

He heard Lucien inhale sharply before slowly turning around to face him, barely-contained fury visible on his face. It was like looking into a mirror from some bygone time. He looked more like Arienthil than Arienthil himself.

"Should you happen to run into your brother, make sure you bring him back no matter what."

Lucien narrowed his eyes. "You trust me with that?"

Arienthil smiled up at him. "I've always counted on you to do whatever it takes. Of all my children, you are the most like me."

Lucien jerked back like he had been slapped, his eyes wide with shock, but regained his composure immediately afterwards. "Then why do you hate me?"

Arienthil let out an annoyed sigh. "Again with this? What is it with my sons? No, I don't hate you. As my firstborn, I hold you to a higher standard. I have certain expectations from you. Do you understand?"

Lucien nods.

"How is the lieutenant?" Arienthil enquired. "It's such a shame about his arm. That must have been difficult for you. Of all the partners my children have chosen, this has to happen to the only one I somewhat like."

"May I be excused?" Lucien asks in a tone that made it very apparent that he would be leaving no matter how Arienthil answered, so he waved his hand in dismissal. "You may go." Once Lucien's footsteps faded into the distance, Arienthil turned to look back out the window.

The sun had set.

Characters involved


 * Arienthil Sunweaver


 * Aerin Sunweaver
 * Lucien Sunweaver
 * Ganymede Sunweaver (mentioned)
 * Lieutenant (mentioned)

Excerpt XXVI
Musings of a Gloomwrought Shade

How long beneath this starless sky

How long since we be lost

How wrong be Neth to sail beyond that veil which shan't be cross'd

Our Prince reminds us who we be

Our sins be not our own

Our skins may fade but we remain His chosen to the bone

We lust to live our lives again

We must regain our prime

We trust salvation's close at hand for we be out of time

Characters involved


 * Benedict Grey (possibly involved)
 * Neth (Mentioned)

Excerpt XXVII
"Slakerthrel has lost the storm king. Iymrith's plots have been uncovered and she has fled from Maelstrom. It is only a matter of time before the Ordning is restored."

"They served their purpose. Everything proceeds according to the plan. We should begin preparations for the next phase.  

'''Oh, and task someone to keep an eye on these....Wayfarers. They might prove troublesome later."'''

Characters involved


 * Slakerthrel (mentioned)
 * Iymrith (mentioned)
 * Hekaton (mentioned)
 * TWG (mentioned)
 * Unnamed characters

Excerpt XXVIII
A sea shanty sung aboard a ship of human traders bound for Evermeet

We wander down yonder from shores far and wide,

Through treacherous seas and overcast skies,

Through thunder and sleet, we travel to meet,

And greet, an elven lass, fine!

We journey through jungles where beasts run untamed,

Face wolves, bears, and badgers all seeking to maim,

Face all of this, all for the bliss,

Of a kiss, from an elven lass, fine!

We trek to the tops of the mountains of sword,

Ascend past the dangers and hazards untoward,

Ascend I say! For soon we may,

May lay, with an elven lass, fine!

I've ventured the woods of the high elven queen,

Unseeing the beauty of Corellon's green,

Essentially blind,

Solely inclined,

To find, an elven lad, mine.

Characters involved


 * Unnamed human traders
 * William Armadeus Wolfgang
 * Ganymede Sunweaver
 * Aerin Sunweaver
 * Corellon Larethian

Excerpt XXIX
From dust I came, to dust I will return.’

He whispered.

‘Need not my desires, nor the things I yearn.’

‘Tranquility and peace.’

‘I surrender myself to the loudness of silence and peace of mind.’

He takes in a deep breath.

‘I feel with my senses the things you cannot usually find.’

He lets out a deep breath slowly. ‘The things to which the violent and unreasonable are blind.’ He takes a moment to look at the remnants of his dying campfire.

‘Things of peace

Things of hurt

Things of pain

Remember always, the path to harmony’

*RUSTLE* He suddenly jolts upright in a swift blinding motion and looks around.

‘Who's there?’ he yells. He scans his surroundings carefully. It was a dark and cold night inside this dense forest. He couldn't see well past the barely lit camp fire. *rustle* a small white rabbit jumps out of a bush nearby and starts running away from him.

*Sigh* he scratches the back of his head and carefully sits back down, addressing his wounds, he is still hurt very badly. ''‘This is stupid. This type of thing isn't really helping me anymore grandmaster. But yet, I cannot help but try now can't I? I am alone, yet again.’''

He kicks some dirt onto the already dying flames to put it out completely, until the light fades and all that remained was the last remainder of smoke.

Characters involved


 * Loki
 * Grandmaster Mundo (Mentioned)

Excerpt XXX
(will be added later)

Excerpt XXXI
SLAM

Gon almost dropped the lenses he was cleaning as Junior abruptly shut the massive tome he had been reading across the room. “What was that?”, Gon asked, putting the lenses safely back on the workbench.

“There is something bothering you very much.” The goblin stated bluntly while affixing the kobold with his characteristic piercing stare. Gon blinked a couple of times before replying, “Um, nothing is-“. “At first, I is thinking you is worried about the Wayfarers, or at least their wizard.” Junior continued in his monotone, not breaking eye contact. Gon sputtered, struggling to reply. “I-what?! I don’t-“.

“But that is not it, or that is not all. There is something else on forefront of your mind.”, said Junior as he stood up and out from behind his reading nook with the effortless grace one would associate with a skilled dancer and started walking towards Gon. “You is waking up multiple times a night. You is distracted when you is not working. Might be why is you is working more than ever before. And even when you is in the workshop, you is seeming tense.” Junior stopped a few feet away from the kobold who at this very moment did look incredibly tense, his jaws clamped shut and his eyes wide.

Junior regarded him for a few moments in silence before turning to look to the side. Gon followed his gaze and involuntarily flinched as it landed on the anvil in front of the forge on the far side of the workshop. His eyes quickly snapped back to Junior to find that the goblin had already been looking back at him. Junior raised an eyebrow and said, “You is not go near anvil in more than a week. You is even avoid looking at it. Why?”

Gon swallowed and replied in a small voice. “You see way too much for a guy with such small eyes.” Junior continued looking at him expectantly. Gon tried forcing a grin and said, “Oh I’ve been meaning to ask, I’ve read your books. Your grammar is impeccable, and your prose is stunning. But when you talk, it’s like, well-“ Junior interrupted him again, speaking louder this time. “I is talking the way I is talking because that is how goblins is speaking Common. If it is one goblin speaking how I is now, then that is wrong grammar, but when entire race is speaking using consistent speech patterns, that is what you is call a dialect. But we is not discuss linguistics tonight. We is discuss Gon. What is wrong?”

Gon’s grin faded beneath the weight of Junior’s stare and he sighed, looking down at his hands. “It started a few weeks ago. I almost never dream but when I woke up, there was this ringing in my ears, like an echo. Like I’d been hearing it for a while, you know? After a few days, I began to hear it before I woke up too, this rhythmic ding, ding, ding in the dark. Took me a while to figure out what that sound was.” Gon turned his gaze upwards to see Junior standing in the same place as before, still as a statue. The goblin seemed to consider what he had said so far and spoke. “Hammer hitting anvil?” “Yeah.” Gon replied quietly.

“After a while, I began to hear it even when I was awake. Hammering away in the back of my mind. The only time it seems to go away is when I’m making something. Otherwise, it’s always there, demanding my attention.” Junior furrowed his brow in consideration and asked, “What do you think this? And why do you think this is happening?” Gon looked back down to his hands, clenching and unclenching his fists. “Who knows. The only thing I know is where the sound is coming from. You know I can’t remember anything from before the Wingdings found me.” Gon paused and took a few breaths before continuing, speaking hesitantly. “There is a wall in my mind. If those memories, that person I used to be is anywhere to be found, it’s there. But whenever I think about it, every instinct in my body screams at me to stay away, like the warnings of a forgotten friend. Hells, if I think about it too long my body literally starts failing me, headaches, nosebleeds, and the like. And now, when I picture that wall, I can hear the hammering, crystal clear, right on the other side.”

Junior’s expression shifted to something that might have been concern. “You is…afraid?” Gon let out a humourless laugh. “Yeah, J. I’m terrified.” He turned and pointed to a small, metallic sphere on the workbench. “You see that ball? Small enough to fit into your pocket. Light enough for a child to play catch with. You press that button on the side, and the resulting explosion can level a two-storey building.” Gon turned back with a haunted look in his eyes. “I built that in a single day with skills and knowledge I don’t remember learning. I can put the power to kill an entire garrison in the hands of a toddler. I won’t, but I don’t like knowing that I can.”

Gon slowly lifted his head and fixed Junior with a humourless smile. “Considering all that, what do you think is behind that wall? What do you think is going to happen if I walk up to that anvil right now, pick up a hammer and match the ding, ding, ding beat for beat?” He balled his hands into fists and clenched his jaw.

Junior took a few steps and leaned in until their faces were almost touching. He looked over as if studying him. “I is think that you is been inside for too long. There is gathering of bards in tower district right now. We go and fill your head with music instead.” Gon let out a breath he didn’t know he had been holding. “I don’t know-“ “And that is fine. I will know for you.” Junior, gently but insistently, took Gon’s hand and pulled him up to his feet.

“Whatever these thoughts is that plague you, I is know who Gon is, and Gon is good.” Junior said and Gon looked at him with his mouth slightly agape. “And if you is do something that is not very Gon-like, I is simply stab you until you stop. Agree?” Gon continued staring at his friend before closing his mouth slowly nodding. “Anyone ever tell you that you’re a very scary individual, J?” Gon said as the two left the workshop. Junior offered up a rare smile and replied, “All the time.”

Characters involved


 * Gon/Apollo/William
 * Junior

Excerpt XXXII
 

“I know and I do not care, whatever it is it is no threat to me” he snarls at the voice, refusing to open his eyes

 

''“I am not mad, in fact I am delighted by how it turned out. I only lost a couple hundred thousand gold” he declares “I just do not want to be disturbed while I am resting”''

 

He reluctantly opens his eyes to see a child collapse halfway between him and the forest. He gets up to notice five charred bodies in the snow at the edge of the forest

 

“It was not intentional and you know that” he tries to shake the voice out of his head despite knowing it’s not possible

“Hello?” a voice so silent if it were spoken to anyone else it would go unnoticed

He turns to the girl in rags and their eyes meet

 

“That is not all, her eyes, there is no light in them” he addresses the voice

“Hello, know you are there” the girl calls out once more

 

He let out a sigh

“I hear you child” he replies making sure his voice isn’t too loud

The girl gets up off the ground and dusts of the snow from her clothes, “oh I’m sorry, to disturb you, sir” the girl starts walk closer to him, with her head down,

 

“I was picking mushrooms and got attacked by wolves, so I ran” the girl continued

He creates multiple mage hands to carry sticks and drop them in a pile between him and the girl

He taps the tip of his finger on the pile to set it a blaze

The girl stops by the fire, ''“can I sit? Sir, atleast while I warm up a bit and I’ll leave your camp”''

She waits for his approval

“Yes” He sighs,” How did you know I was here?”

“After I lost my sight, I learned to sense thing differently, I sensed a large mass of power, it’s hard to explain”, she murmurs while twiddling her thumbs “last time I sensed something similar it was another mage like you, but yours is bigger and it covers this entire side of the mountain….”

“Is this your doing?” He addresses the voice

 

He thinks for a bit before turning back to the girl, who has gone quiet

“Can you teach me how to do that?” He inquires

 

“The last performance was wonderful, even though the old snarl won” he addresses the voice “now I need a new distraction”

The girl’s eye widens

“I can try”, the girl answers, putting little effort to hide her excitement

“''I m Tala, whats your name? sir”'' She gets up, walk to side of fire holds her hand out

He sends out a mage hand to shake her hand, “My name is Imvaernarhro, but you can call me Ivan”

Characters involved


 * Imvaernarhro "Ivan"
 * The voice
 * Tala