DREAMS of a CLOUD
Peruse the many random ramblings of a writer-in-training as I build stories and develop my craft.
7 June 2024
“You want me to run the PR for the Hero League?!”
Rather than replying. Overgrowth just gestured to all of her. The hero had a point; Arachne was fabulous.
This was based on another writing prompt, this one from reddit, about a hero league hiring a villain. Arachne obviously isn’t Megamind, but he was the inspiration behind the direction this was going. Dunno if I’ll continue this plot thread or not; I’d like to, but it will probably be a while.
Mina Fulton, aka Arachne, stared at Overgrowth (such a tacky hero name, by the way) in utter shock. “I believe my ears have deceived me. What did you just say?”
The young girl shrugged, and a fern sprouted up next to her. “You heard me. The League’s offering you a job.”
Arachne stared at Overgrowth another moment longer, then gestured to the clearly villainous cut of her suit. “Is there nobody there the least bit concerned about hiring a known villain to work for a hero agency?”
“Please. You’re about as threatening as Megamind from that one movie.”
That earned the hero a scowl. Honestly Arachne wasn't sure if she should feel offended or elated; that was where she’d learned the importance of presentation. “Even so–”
Overgrowth cut her off. “Okay, so the PR guy is actually pretty worried. We’re 90% sure that’s because we’re sacking him if you accept, though.”
Sacking…? Their PR guy? Wait, then… “You want me to run the PR for the Hero League?!”
Rather than replying. Overgrowth just gestured to all of her. The hero had a point; Arachne was fabulous. She honestly wasn’t sure if this was madness or brilliance.
Now that Arachne was considering it, Overgrowth grinned. “Besides, we need the help. You’ve seen us.” Indeed. Overgrowth’s “Costume” was nothing more then a green t-shirt and camo cargo pants. It was… sad. “If we want any chance of standing up to the likes of Aetherflame and his crew, we need… more.” She smirked. “Unless you think that’s too much of a challenge for a villain like you.”
Oh, those were fighting words. Arachne’s eyes flared. “Well, then. Best be prepared, young missy. When I’m through with the lot of you, none of you will be recognizable.”
6 June 2024
No one else can see Fred. Or hear him. Or really interact with him at all.
I was super worn out while writing this. Almost didn’t write anything. Glad I did, though.
I’d like you to meet Fred. He’s an ordinary sort of fellow; a middle-aged bachelor, with thinning brown hair, carefully arranged to hide signs of baldness. Fred doesn’t get out much; anytime he’s not asleep or at work, he’s generally on his computer. He’s quite a fan of the Mihoyo games, to the point he will shamelessly admit to whaling them.
Now, some people might write Fred off as a slacker, a dysfunctional introvert, any number of epithets referring to asocial people letting life slip away from them. Or, well… They wold if they could ever see him. You see, there’s a reason Fred spends so much time online. A reason he works the night shift, a reason he doesn’t go out during the day.
No one else can see him. Or hear him. Or really interact with him at all.
5 June 2024
As he turned to leave, though, he noticed the strange halfling pocketing… Was that the head priest’s seal? He caught the priest’s eye, but the priest shook his head. Shaxes sighed. He would let it go, then. Although… Might as well make the man work for it. He strode up to the halfling. “You. Come with me.”
And here it is! This is the final entry to the first session of my D&D campaign, wrapping this chapter up.
The shadow monk cursed, and turned to leave, but her companion, a death-touched aasimar cleric, clamped a hand on her shoulder. “We have more urgent matters to attend to. Remember?”
The monk looked like she was about to argue, then changed her mind. “Stupid bleeping princess.”
It took Shaxes a moment to put together what she meant. “Are you referring to the ambassador from Táixià?”
The cleric woman nodded, while the monk let out another curse. The head priest watched a moment longer, one eyebrow raised in apparent amusement, before he addressed Shaxes. “Could I perhaps trouble you to look into this further? If there truly is a wayward child of the night involved, it would be best for everyone to resolve this before it escalates, especially given the… potential interference of outside forces.”
Shaxes nodded once. “What can you tell me about the situation?”
“Not much, I’m afraid. The assailant was a priest named Marcus Kensworthy, Sr. He is from a noble family with a long line of history with the church of the Eternal Rose, with all the implications related to that. He was a key figure in the concerning movements I spoke of earlier. Many priests and priestesses around him have recently begun acting strangely. His victim was one Eliza Peckham, who was one of the primary figures within the temple promoting peace between the Rose’s church and our own.”
“I see.” The Rose temple seemed like the next best place to begin searching for more answers.
As he turned to leave, though, he noticed the strange halfling pocketing… Was that the head priest’s seal? He caught the priest’s eye, but the priest shook his head. Shaxes sighed. He would let it go, then. Although… Might as well make the man work for it. He strode up to the halfling. “You. Come with me.”
The halfling shared a look with the half-elf woman and shrugged. Then, without much fuss, the two followed Shaxes to the temple of the Eternal Rose.
4 June 2024
Who Am I? -A poem.
Was feeling a bit existential, and waxed a bit poetic about the meaning of my own life. This is very religious in nature, short as it is so be warned.
Who am I?
A sinner, a failure, a dropout?
Once, perhaps, and fair enough,
E’en now I have my struggles.
But…
Who am I?
A writer, a dreamer, a poet?
So I am, but only thus?
Nay, such is but skin-deep.
Then…
Who am I?
A son of God
A disciple of Christ
Brother, uncle, nephew, son
Covenanted
Ever forward I strive to tread.
3 June 2024 part 2
“Actually, that was my question for you, Father. I’ve been sent from Trixhaven; have you had any issues? Any concerns with your local congregation?”
The priest mused for a moment or two. “No, not so far as I am aware, at least with our congregation.”
Next bit of the Flames of Piege campaign.
When Shaxes entered the shrine of the Shadowed Princess, he found the head priest speaking with the mysterious duo from the ship, including the vampire shadow monk. It seems it had been wise to keep her existence from the strange Sunkeeper delegation.
The head priest was a thin, man with large, black robes, and skin so pale he looked like he might be dead. Which… was actually a possibility. He looked over at Shaxes as the tiefling entered, then looked behind him and asked, “New adherents?”
Shaxes looked behind him only to discover the half-elf noblewoman from the ship arguing with a dark-skinned, almost drow-like halfling in Elvish. They seemed almost as surprised to be there as Shaxes, but the half-elf shook her head and said, “No, we’re just touring around the city.”
The head priest nodded, then turned to Shaxes. The tiefling looked at the other two and asked, “I am not interrupting, am I? Nothing I wish to speak with you about is particularly urgent.”
“We ar nearly finished. How can I assist you?”
The corners of Shaxes’ mouth quirked upward by the slightest amount. “Actually, that was my question for you, Father. I’ve been sent from Trixhaven; have you had any issues? Any concerns with your local congregation?”
The priest mused for a moment or two. “No, not so far as I am aware, at least with our congregation.”
Shaxes raised an eyebrow, and the priest offered a wry smile. “Recently, a rather troublesome group of nobles among the Eternal Rose’s priests started moving in concerning ways, but it looks like that particular problem is resolving itself.”
“I wonder if that is related to the mess the Sunkeepers were telling us about,” Shaxes mused.
The monk cut in. “Eh? Sunkeepers?”
“Yes. A squadron of them confronted us at the docks, wanted to ask a few questions. It seems there was an attack at the temple of the Rose, and they suspect vampires involved. They were concerned about rumors are had a vampire aboard our ship.” At that last statement, he gave the monk a very pointed look. “Fortunately, none of us knew anything about that.”
3 June 2024 part 1
As Isaac opened his mouth to reply, Phillip held up a hand to stop him. “And one other thing. Say you’re right. Say we convince her, and she come back to Lowenveil City with us. What then?”
Isaac looked up at his friend in shock, so Phillip continued, “Did you forget? She’s only got a few weeks before bam! She keels over dead. Any guesses how she feels about that?”
I felt quite accomplished with how much I got written here. Still not 100% satisfied; I think I hit too many of the arguments, was a bit too thorough with Phillip dressing down Isaac. That doesn’t quite feel right. I might need to identify the most important points and keep it to those. Or I might be overthinking it; I do have a tendency to do that. Also, I still worried I’m making Isaac too much of an entitled brat. I’ve tried to pull back some, but… it’s not working great. Could be a lot worse, of course, but… Well, I might have to wait and see how his arc shapes up.
…And what were you expecting? Some ephemeral, yearning princess hoping for a chance at freedom? This isn’t some bard’s tale, Isaac.”
That stung more than Isaac would have expected. Had he really based his entire image of his sister on stories? But then again, what else did he have to go off of? “She’s not really anything like me. Or Mom or Dad, for that matter.”
“Your sister spent her whole life stuck in a magical tower, with only a mad fairy to keep her company. It’s kind of amazing she can talk with us at all, isn’t it?”
Isaac scowled. “Then why doesn’t she want to come with us!? I mean, it still has to be better than that musty old tower, right?”
“Is it, though? The Tower seemed to provide her almost anything she needed.” As Isaac opened his mouth to reply, Phillip held up a hand to stop him. “And one other thing. Say you’re right. Say we convince her, and she come back to Lowenveil City with us. What then?”
That’s when it really sunk in. Isaac had wanted someone to replace him; an heir to the throne. Aurora… couldn’t do that. “I’m stuck as the crown prince either way.”
“That’s not the worst of it, actually.” Isaac looked up at his friend in shock, so Phillip continued, “Did you forget? She’s only got a few weeks before she turns sixteen. So she’d have just enough time to connect to people, for them to get attached, and then bam! She keels over dead. Any guesses how she feels about that idea?”
“But… Surely there’s something… I mean, we have Maleficent…”
“The same Maleficent that’s always hounding you about the dangers of magic?” That shut Isaac up. Phillip smiled wryly. “Though, to be fair, I started with that, too. Even asked the princess about it.” He gestured to the Tower. “But, well. All magic has a cost, right? Care to guess what the cost for a life is?”
Isaac’s face turned ashen. Once he’d taken a few deep breaths, he said, “Well, crap. What can we do?”
Phillip shrugged. “When I asked, she seemed fine with us coming back tomorrow, at least. Gothel doesn’t come back until the day after.”
“Even though she just kicked me out?”
“Yeah. Just… Maybe be a bit more chill? She doesn’t seem used to people, and you can be… a lot.” He grinned. “If it helps, she’s really into the King Arthur books.”
Isaac blinked. “Really? Huh. Where does she get them?”
“No idea. Maybe the fairy picks them up on her trips outside? Or maybe it’s weird tower magic.”
The conversation wound down from there, and eventually the two boys went to bed. It took several hours before Isaac actually managed to sleep, though, with all the thoughts chasing around his head.
1 June 2024
“Was… was that really Princess Aurora?”
For the longest moment, Phillip stared at him, unimpressed. “She looks more like your mom than you do, Isaac.”
I got quite a bit of planning done this day, but by the time I was writing, I was already falling asleep. Fortunately, starting the week after, I am coming in an hour later, since training is done, and that should help me be a bit more rested.
Isaac was still in a daze when Phillip came down a few minutes later. The large boy helped him up. “C’mon. Let’s set up camp for the night, at least.”
It wasn’t long before they had a makeshift tent set up and a couple of squirrels roasting over a fire at the edge of the clearing. While they waited, Isaac finally spoke. “Was… was that really Princess Aurora?”
For the longest moment, Phillip stared at him, unimpressed. “She looks more like your mom than you do, Isaac.”
“I mean, sure, but…” What was he even trying to say? “She’s… not what I was expecting.”
Phillip raised an eyebrow. “And what was that?”
31 May 2024
Sasha stopped, spun around, and studied him for an uncomfortably long time. Finally, she said, “If you’re ever going to come along, you might as well walk next to me, instead.”
I may have to tweak this. I haven’t decided if the foreshadowing here is accurate enough to be appropriate or not.
…decided to follow her. Perhaps a minute later, Sasha stopped, spun around, and studied him for an uncomfortably long time. Finally, she said, “If you’re ever going to come along, you might as well walk next to me, instead.”
George smiled wryly and came up beside her, and the two continued through town. Along the way, Sasha asked, “You learn anything useful at the bar?”
“The medicine they have there tastes just as terrible as the stuff I make myself.”
Sasha gave him a side-eye, but then she shrugged. “It’s all basically poison anyway.”
George chuckled, and to thank her, he added, “Heard about the mess at the temple. Some lady named Eliza Peckham? Officials say there's no way it could have been vampires, which means… it was probably vampires.”
For a moment or two, Sasha pondered that. “I want to sneak in, see the body up close. Will you help?”
With one eyebrow raised, George answered by taking a particularly heavy step, which caused his armor to clank and rattle all over. “But… If you’ve got something intriguing enough planned, well… I wouldn’t mind being the distraction.”
30 May 2024
When Valia left to investigate the situation, she expected to find a burnt out shell of a town, with what few survivors remained cowering for safety. Instead, she discovered a bustling, prosperous town.
I wanted to foreshadow what’s going on between the town and the dragon better in my Valia story, maybe even have her hit the “adventurer’s graveyard” before facing the dragon, so I restarted it. Unfortunately, I’m still adjusting to my new schedule at work, so I was not able to get much actually written…
Reports of the dragon terrorizing Birchwood, and the numerous adventuring paries who had lost their lives trying to defeat it, had reached all the way to the Guild’s headquarters. So when Valia left to investigate the situation, she expected to find a burnt out shell of a town, with what few survivors remained cowering for safety.
Instead, she discovered a bustling town, with clean, white walls and well-dressed men and women. Indeed, the townsfolk seemed far more prosperous than the reports said they should have been even before the dragon.
29 May 2024
Arlecchino and Ayaka: A Poem
I was dead tired and needed to write SOMETHING after work. And recently, I’ve been playing a lot of Genshin again, even picked up Arlecchino. She’s been a blast to play, and kind of locked in my second team. So I have an overload team centered around Arlecchino and Raiden, and a freeze team centered around Ayaka, that feel so very different from each other but still play very similarly. It’s strange and fun, and something I thought a lot about randomly, and put the thoughts roughly in a poem.
Arlecchino and Ayaka
The one, imperial, regal, demanding
The other, serene, elegant, demure
Flame and explosions and flurries of motion
Versus the silent stillness of frozen ice
Both naught more than a dream
Shared, not even my own
But fortune favored me greatly
To let ice and fire guide that dreamlike journey
28 May 2024
I raise an eyebrow. “I’ve known what you are since we got married, Zan.”
For a moment, she couldn’t figure out how to respond. “How?”
“You’re not nearly as good at hiding it as you think you are. Last month, you tied to tell me you were going on a Harley-Davidson road trip with some friends. You don’t even on a motorcycle license.”
This is from another one of those prompts on Tumblr; “You’re partner is trying to hide their non-human nature. You’ve known for months, but play along because it’s funny.” I twisted it a bit; what would make such a person reveal that they know?
I had a lot of fun, but I think if I were to approach this more seriously, I would change quite a lot. Might go with vampires instead; had some easier ideas on how Zan could get “caught” without recognizing it. Werewolves don’t really have a lot of room for that; either it’s super obvious, or there’s no sign whatsoever, unless they can shift at will and shed all the time, which seemed kind of lame. honestly, the examples I used to show her true nature all seem sub-par, even the fake motorcycle trip, at least how I presented. At least to me. I’d also approach the conflict with the sister differently. Maybe have James see a texting conversation between them or something, then either call Brianne or immediately go talk with Zan, depending.
Also, on Zan as a name. I don’t know if it works as a short form for Alexandra, but it fits in my head, and my grandmother was named LaZann, often going by Zann. So it is a name, just a little unusual.
I have the most adorable wife ever.
Now, obviously, I’m biased. She’s my wife. But Zan is… How should I put this? Attractively clumsy? Not words most people would use to describe a werewolf, typically but it fits her. How else can I explain the way she accidentally bends metal objects (like our cooking pots) when she’s upset, or the way she forgets her cover stories for the scars she gets, or the increasingly ridiculous excuses she comes up with to vanish every month around the full moon?
There’s been a time or two I’ve considered letting Zan–short for Alexandra–know that I’ve figured it out. But, well, I don’t know what that would mean for her, or how it would affect her pack. Plus, like I said, I think she’s adorable while she’s trying to hide it. So I just play along.
Until today.
Zan’s sister, Brianne, has come over to visit. It’s getting close to the full moon, so that’s pretty normal. I fix a little something for them, a few burgers, and I’m outside the door when I hear Zan say, “I think James is onto me, brianne. I mangled a spoon the other day, and he said, ‘Well, at least it’s not silver, right?’”
“Pure coincidence. You’re overthinking things, Zan.”
“Maybe? But, I just… I get this feeling sometimes.”
Brianne snorts. “Look, Alexandra, you want proof? He’s still married to you. If he knew, he wouldn’t be. What human wants to be married to monsters like us?”
I scowled and opened the door. Both women jump, which is a bit of a surprise. Couldn’t they hear me, or smell me, or something? While glaring at Brianne, I say, “Well, me, for starters.” Then I look over and lock eyes with Zan. “Except you’re not monsters. No matter how media portrays werewolves.”
Zan’s eyes went wide. “You… You heard that, then?”
I raise an eyebrow. “I’ve known what you are since we got married, Zan.”
For a moment, she couldn’t figure out how to respond. “How?”
“You’re not nearly as good at hiding it as you think you are. Last month, you tied to tell me you were going on a Harley-Davidson road trip with some friends. You don’t even on a motorcycle license.”
Both women stare at me in shock, then Brianne turned to Zan. “You what?”
“It worked for Joey!”
“Because Joey Owns a Harley-Davidson!” Brianne sank her face into her hands. “Oh, this is bad. Crap.”
I set the burgers on the table and sit on the couch next to Zan. “Is it a big deal if I find out about all this?”
Zan opens her mouth, then closes it and bites her lip. She looks over at her sister, who replies, “Yes! No! I don’t know! It’s complicated.”
27 May 2024
George thought he recognized the melody; it was a beautiful rendition of an old Kadrashan tune. Didn’t quite fit in with a place like this, though, and… Well, it brought up memories George would rather leave buried for the time being.
The rest of the crowd didn’t seem to care much for it, either, based on all the booing Sasha received.
I was evenly split between which of the two perspectives I should take for this scene (including the bit right after; still need to write that). Sasha could have been fun, but I’m still parsing how both the player and the character think, as I don’t know them as well as the other players.
George was dead tired, and didn’t want to bother much with people, especially when his stomach still felt like it would rebel at any moment. So as soon as the Sunkeeper commander finished his spiel, George booked it to the nearest tavern.
He ordered his usual remedy after a long sea voyage; one sip was enough to confirm it tasted as terrible as it did at any other tavern. Once he finally settled in, he started listening to what other folks were saying. Never hurt to get a lay of the land. A few conversations in particular caught his ear.
“Has anyone seen Charlotte lately? Don’t think she’s been snagged by whatever’s roving the slums these days, did she?”
“You hear what happened at the Rose Temple? Apparently, one of their priests went nuts and murdered a priestess. They say vampires got to him or summat.”
“Anyone else see that ship as just came in? They say it took on a bloody kraken. Codswallop, I say. Wouldn’t be a ship left to come in if one o’ those nasties attacked.”
The last worried George a bit; if they realized he’d been on he ship, they’d pester him about it, and he’d really rather be left alone. He noticed the genasi girl, Sasha, doing her rounds, asking about some fellow named “Stuart”. General consensus seemed to be that he was one of the ones who’d been “disappeared”.
Eventually, Sasha decided she’d learned what she could here, and asked the bartender if she could play a bit of music. George thought he recognized the melody; it was a beautiful rendition of an old Kadrashan tune. Didn’t quite fit in with a place like this, though, and… Well, it brought up memories George would rather leave buried for the time being.
The rest of the crowd didn’t seem to care much for it, either, based on all the booing Sasha received. She muttered something under her breath–George figured some Kadrashan curse words–then stepped down, glowering out over the crowds.
That’s when someone recognized George. “Hey, wasn’t you one of the ones that was on that ship? The wrecked one?”
George leveled a glare at the man, but the man ignored him. “Yeah, you was! Hey, tell me. What the bloody hell happened?”
The exclamation drew a large crowd, and it took far too long for him to work his way free and get outside. That’s when he noticed Sasha stalking off toward the temple, and decided to follow her.
25 May 2024 part 2
Sir Deneth Rinof: A Poem
I wrote my poem for the week! It’s based on the leader of one of the major antagonistic factions in my campaign. If it runs long enough for him to appear, I would be ecstatic. He is a hodge podge of several different characters that at first, didn’t seem connected, but the more I explored the themes around this character, the more tied together they all seem. Top of the list is Denethor from Lord of the Rings, and Sir Gideon Ofnir the All-Hearing from Elden Ring. (Yes, I’m not using his “official” title, but I find this one more apt, anyway.) Then Taravangian from The Stormlight Chronicles got mixed in a bit, though I doubt my character is anywhere near that composed or capable. Through in a dash of general Bloodborne into the mix, and you get Sir Deneth Rinof the All-Hearing, head of the Oreilles de la Tour (Ears of the Tower), with connections to Great Old Ones and whatnot. His faction focuses a lot on illusions and puppets, at least at first, with more and more eldritch entities showing up as the campaign progresses.
Sir Deneth Rinof
“Know thy place.”
“Hold thy tongue.”
“Speak not above thy station.”
What fool, this king!
Wherefore should I bow to him?
“Heretic.”
Empty words.
What glory would gods grant man?
My soul seeks more
To ascend beyond mere divine.
Deeper truths
Darker secrets
Words to bend them to my will
Both kings and priests
And surely I shall do it
Found at last!
Beyond ken
I draw near that distant star
Madness follows
Eyes inside my screaming mind
All are doomed
I am bound
None can oppose such terror
Bow before it
I will offer it the world
25 May 2024
“I have no intention of being the one to die today.”
A burst of fire flared from a far corner of the cave, almost blinding Valia. “What can an insignificant creature like you do?”
Valia cocked her head. “The stories don’t even name you, dragon.”
Had some ideas for what Valia’s powers might be. I knew they had to be necromantic in nature, if she was going to raise the dragon, but in what form? How showy was she? How is there fight going to be visible, or at least noticeable, all the way from Birchwood? Once I came up with a couple ideas, I wanted to start over to weave that into the opening discussion. Overall, I’m quite happy with how this turned out.
…play with its food.
Fortunately for Valia, the darkness didn’t bother her, especially with the number of soul-lit ghost flames lingering about the place. It seems more people had attempted to slay this dragon than she’d been aware of.
As she approached the first ghostflame, a deep voice rumbled through the cavern. “Well, what have we here?”
Rather than reply, Valia touched the ghostflame and drew it into her core. The anger and fear she’d expected, but was that… betrayal, she sensed? Curious.
Scales scraped on stone deeper inside. “A lone adventurer, a woman, has the audacity to challenge me? Are you so eager for death?”
Valia ignored him at first, instead moving from soul to soul, absorbing the ghostflame. Nearly all of them carried that same tang of betrayal. Most curious indeed. A theory about the situation had finally started taking shape, but she’d need a bit more proof. She finally responded, “I have no intention of being the one to die today.”
A burst of fire flared from a far corner of the cave, almost blinding Valia. “What can an insignificant creature like you do?”
Valia cocked her head. This dragon was arrogant enough; maybe she could simplify the fight a bit? “The stories don’t even name you, dragon.”
After a few seconds, the dragon chuckled, shaking the cave to its foundations. “Clever. When I was younger, I might well have fallen for that sort of provocation.”
Ah well. It had been a long shot, anyway. She could have done a lot with its name; soul magic made nearly as much use out of names as the fae. But she hadn’t been relying on that anyway. Instead, she merely edged her way towards the next ghostflame, doing her best to keep some kind of cover between her and the dragon’s presumed location. “A serious question, then. Why is the town so carefree? Most other dragons would be terrified the townsfolk would figure out a way to steal their hoard.”
The dragon roared with laughter. “Woman, they are my hoard! For just a few trinkets and baubles, they turn on their own so quickly! Didn’t that guild of yours offer you a drink before you came up here?”
“Hm. I didn’t touch it, though.”
“Yes, I had surmised as much. You are far to coherent.”
That pretty much confirmed Valia’s theory. They probably had other contingencies to cripple parties, too, that just weren’t worth using on a lone adventurer. Their loss. Not that those were any more likely to succeed against her, but still.
After a few moments, the dragon spoke again. “You intrigue me. Not many would challenge a dragon alone, no matter their hubris. You are either driven by bloodthirst, or truly desperate, no? Either way, wealth or blood, I can provide.” the dragon lowered its head until it nearly touched Valia nose to snout. “What do you think? Won’t you join me?”
Valia allowed herself a wry smile. The truth seemed so impossible, he didn’t even bother to consider it. “I thank you for the invitation, but I’m afraid I’ll have to refuse.” She shot a necrotic blast towards the dragon’s eye, then summoned the souls she’d gathered into an armor of ghostflame, just in time to counter the dragon’s breath.
24 May 2024
“I noticed that little town down there is in surprisingly good shape.”
“And why wouldn’t it be?” The dragon replied smugly. “They are mine.
This… was way short. I really have no excuse. Just got distracted partway in, and never got back to it. I restarted the whole dragon scene the next day as I figured out how Valia’s powers might work.
“...I know what you are, girl.”
Shoot. Well, not like the simple solution could work every time. Valia kept a wary eye out, trying to pin down the dragon’s location. “I noticed that little town down there is in surprisingly good shape.”
“And why wouldn’t it be?” The dragon replied smugly. “They are mine. Most of my kin fail to realize how much more lucrative it is to draw wealth to you through a prosperous town than a ruined one.”
23 May 2024
“Curious. All alone, girl?” the dragon taunted. “Was there no one else willing to die with you?”
With a snort, Valia shook her head. “I don’t need help to kill a single dragon.”
This is part two of my story I started May 16, where she starts her face-off against the dragon. Somewhat inspired by the recent movie Damsel on Netflix, though Valia is, of course, in a very different situation.
It was not hard to find the dragon’s lair. Smoke trickled up constantly from the mouth of the cave, and there was that certain, baked-leather smell she always associated with them. Cautiously, she stepped inside.
Many people expected dragon lairs to be brightly lit on account of all the fire, but in Valia’s experience, for any well-established lair, that was rarely the case. Anything flammable had long since burned away, and with dragons’ truesight ability, there was little need for interior lighting. This dragon was no different, and considering the numerous pillars and hiding spots, this one seemed to enjoy playing with its food.
Indeed, not another fifteen minutes went by before a voice echoed out of the darkness, “Well, what have we here?”
Valia tried to pinpoint the source, but the dragon had designed his lair well. She couldn’t place it.
“Curious. All alone, girl?” the dragon taunted. “Was there no one else willing to die with you?”
With a snort, Valia shook her head. “I don’t need help to kill a single dragon.”
A flare of light burst off to Valia’s right. “What can an inferior creature like you possibly do to someone like me?”
That prompted a wry smile from Valia as she stalked after the glimpse she’d caught. “Like you? The stories don’t even mention your name, dragon. How terrifying can you possibly be?” It was a bit of a long shot, but if she could get his name… Well. Names had power.
Silence dominated the cave for several minutes. Then the dragon chuckled, shaking the cave to its foundations. “A clever one, aren’t you? I may have even fallen for it, were it not for the stench of death that clings to you.” Scales scraped on rock off in the distance. “Yes, I know what you are, girl.”
21 May 2024
The tiefling asked, “If I may, why are you asking?”
The commander grimaced. “There’s… been an incident at the Temple of the Rose. We believe it is related to vampires in some way; if we are correct, evidence indicates the mastermind is not local. We figured they may be coming in person to move the work forward or some such, and wanted to prevent the issue from escalating.”
Shaxes raised an eyebrow, but he only said, “I am not aware of any vampires aboard the ship.”
Yeah, I missed Monday. I plan to catch up soon enough; I still need to write my poem for the week, after all.
This was a tricky scene to write in some ways; I wanted to smooth things out, include foreshadowing bits, and make the conversation fit the reality of the situation better now that i’ve prepped more and have a deeper understanding of what that is. I think it turned out well, though, and I really got in the groove here.
…towards the ship. They halted, and one of them stepped forward. “I am Commander Slepoy of the [unit name/title]. I apologize for the inconvenience, but would you mind accompanying me for a few minutes? I have a few questions for all of you.”
From behind Maranys, the sailor girl muttered a phrase–one Maranys recognized as the spell “prestidigitation”–and the next moment an absolutely fold stench started wafting from the commander, like sewage that had been sitting in the sun for hours. A number of Sunkeepers turned and glared at the girl, but to the commander’s credit, he (mostly) kept his composure.
The tiefling–Shaxes?--stepped forward. “If you mean to inquire about the status of the ship, we were attacked by a kraken. The good captain and a number of other, powerful passengers dealt with it, while we helped fend off its sahuagin followers. Is there anything else you needed?”
Maranys noticed one fellow, a young man with warm brown hair, first eyed Shaxes’ horns, then his holy symbol, and sneered. The tiefling himself didn’t respond; if anything, he seemed more resigned to it than anything.
The commanger replied, “That is helpful, thank you, but that is not why I am here. I don’t intend to take much of your time; would you mind following me?”
With narrowed eyes, Maranys studied the commander. What did he want, then? She noticed that his eyes flicked over everyone who left the ship. Was he looking for someone? A passenger, perhaps? Since when did the Sunkeepers have this kind of authority in Oileanda, anyway?
She decided it would likely be more trouble than it was worth to get away, so she accompanied the commander into a nearby warehouse. Both Shaxes and George, an axe-wielding mercenary who’d drawn the attention of a sahuagin attacking her during their previous fight, joined them, though george looked a little green in the face. Was he still feeling seasick? Or maybe he just ate something that disagreed with him. Maranys also thought she caught sight of the water genasi from the ship slipping in with them.
It wasn’t until they were inside that she realized Myst hadn’t joined her. She looked out the window and found him out there, flashing that same infuriating smirk, next to the sailor girl who’d stunk up the commander’s collar. Fortunately, the girl had decided to undo her spell before slipping away.
Commander Slepoy cleared his throat. Maranys turned his attention back to him, and he asked, “I apologize if this seems strange, but we heard a troubling report, given the circumstances. Do you know if, among the passengers aboard your vessel, any of them may have been a vampire?”
Maranys immediately thought of the heavily cloaked shadow monk that helped them fend off the kraken. Except, well… She didn’t know for sure, and this was definitely more trouble than it was worth. So it was with no guilt that she beamed at the commander. “Nope. Haven’t seen anything.”
Shaxes shook his head, and poor George just looked more nauseous than ever. The tiefling asked, “If I may, why are you asking?”
The commander grimaced. “There’s… been an incident at the Temple of the Rose. We believe it is related to vampires in some way; if we are correct, evidence indicates the mastermind is not local. We figured they may be coming in person to move the work forward or some such, and wanted to prevent the issue from escalating.”
Shaxes raised an eyebrow, but he only said, “I am not aware of any vampires aboard the ship.”
The commander sighed and nodded, then excused them. Maranys turned to leave, but nearly ran into the unpleasant Sunkeeper from before. He’d approached for the sole purpose of spitting at Shaxes’ feet. For his part, though, the tiefling merely sighed.
Once outside, Maranys made a beeline for Myst. “Where have you been? Why didn’t you write me to let me know where you were, or that you were okay, or–”
In Elvish, still smirking, Myst cut her off. “I take it you missed me then?”
Maranys wasn’t sure if her cheeks were flushed with embarrassment or fury, and she started getting after Myst, absentmindedly following Shaxes deeper into the city.
18 May 2024
Straxes the Collector was used to people staring at him. It was rare enough to see tieflings at all this far north, much less as tall as he. Even before the horns, he was nearly seven feet. And the symbol of the Shadowed Princess displayed prominently over his armor certainly didn’t help matters. So he paid little heed at first to the small sailor girl who’d watched him most of the trip from Tangier, even after he’d learned she was angel-blooded in the earlier scuffle.
What he had not expected was for her to approach him shortly before their arrival in Setton. She asked, in her thick Solstranan accent, “Haven’t we met before? You look familiar.”
This has been a lot of fun to write. The Maranys/Myst dynamic doesn’t quite feel set in stone yet, so that could potentially shift, but for now, this is my best estimate from what their players have told me.
Straxes the Collector was used to people staring at him. It was rare enough to see tieflings at all this far north, much less as tall as he. Even before the horns, he was nearly seven feet. And the symbol of the Shadowed Princess displayed prominently over his armor certainly didn’t help matters. So he paid little heed at first to the small sailor girl who’d watched him most of the trip from Tangier, even after he’d learned she was angel-blooded in the earlier scuffle.
What he had not expected was for her to approach him shortly before their arrival in Setton. She asked, in her thick Solstranan accent, “Haven’t we met before? You look familiar.”
Shaxes blinked. He didn’t recognize the girl, but that wasn’t so unusual. He had met many people in the course of his… duties. It seemed strange she couldn’t place someone as distinctive as he was, though.
When he didn’t reply, the girl–Ayona?--nodded to herself. “Yes. You were part of that thing in Trixhaven, weren’t you? The one that would never smile.” She looked him over once more. “Yeah. You need a vacation or something. Learn to have a little fun, maybe.”
SHaxes merely raised an eyebrow. It wasn’t a moment later before the ship’s captain bellowed from the helm, “You should take your own advice, lass!”
“I have fun! I have plenty of fun!”
“Like what, lassie?”
For several seconds, Shaxes watched in amusement as Ayona floundered. “I… um… I’ve killed things?”
That’s when it clicked. “Ah, yes. Trixhaven. I remember. You were the one with all the feathers.” There weren’t many of the angel-blooded who opted to follow the Shadowed Princess, after all.
The sailor girl didn’t reply, instead trying valiantly and vainly to argue with the captain. Shaxes just shook his head and returned to his bunk. As long as it didn’t effect his mission here or his Lady’s church, it wasn’t important.
The next day, as the Fortune’s Breath pulled into port, Lady Maranys Evreux was still agonizing over what she’d overheard the day before. A few months!? What was she supposed to do? She didn’t think she’d have the funds to charter a different ship, and since she was already a year or two behind Myst, Maranys wondered if she’d ever see him again.
So perhaps it can be forgiven that she wasn’t entirely cognizant of her surroundings while she exited the ship. At least, not until she noticed her purse was missing.
Before she even had time to panic, however, a short figure, barely four foot tall, with skin the color of dark chocolate and pale gray hair, offered it back to her. “Might this be yours, milady?”
Maranys gaped at him, her brain and emotions struggling to catch up with what her eyes were telling her. Then he flashed her that same smirk he always wore, and Maranys felt her cheeks flush. “Myst!? What… how… Where have–”
Before she could interrogate Myst further, a large squad of Sunkeepers arrived at the docks and began making their way towards the ship.
17 May 2024
For a long moment, Streisa just stared at her. “You need a break, lass. I don’t know what you’re running from, or what you’re planning, but it’s not exactly the sort of thing you can do alone, now, is it?”
I think the two most fascinating part of writing my campaign as a narrative, at least so far, are figuring out how to introduce and balance everyone, and trying to figure out how much to include. It’s a game, after all; some things are easier to hand wave that need to be explained in-story, and other things need to be expedited. This is the first intro; Ayona is an aasimar from Solstrana who’s been wandering for a bit now.
Aboard the Fortune’s Breath, Ayona Svyátoy approached Captain Streisa, a squat, burly woman with bushy red hair, who had a way of towering over everyone around her despite her 5’2” frame. “We’re close, Captain. Should only be a day or so before we reach Setton.”
The corner of the captain’s lip quirked upward. “Good timing, lass. I’ve been meaning to have a chat with you.”
Ayona tilted her head. “It’s… not that large a ship, Captain. I’m not difficult to find.”
The captain guffawed. “But in all seriousness. Lass. It’s going to be a few months before the ship’s seaworthy again. What are your plans?”
Both ignored the wail one of their passengers–some half-elf noblewoman–let out when Streisa mentioned “a few months”. “I don’t know. Find another ship, perhaps?”
For a long moment, Streisa just stared at her. “You need a break, lass. A chance to live life. Maybe make some friends. I don’t know what you’re running from, or what you’re planning, but it’s not exactly the sort of thing you can do alone, now, is it?”
“Sure I can.” It would be bloody difficult, but Ayona could do it. She had to.
That simply elicited another guffaw from the captain and she clapped Ayona on the back, nearly bowling Ayona over. “Well, think on it, lass. Perhaps travel a bit with that group you helped with the sahuagin, eh?”
Rather than reply, Ayona rolled her shoulders. She’d think about it. Maybe.
16 May 2024
Rumors of the dragon terrorizing the town of Birchwood had spread for weeks, with no news that anyone had managed to defeat it. So Valia had understandably expected the town to be more than a little run down, with its citizens cowering out of sight, any that remained.
Instead, the town seemed as busy as ever. Children played freely in the streets, and well-dressed housewives chatted with each other at the market. No patches on any of the pants or dresses, and Valia caught a whiff of one woman wearing an expensive perfume as she walked by.
This is from that same series of Tumblr posts that inspired both yesterday’s and the recent Rumpelstilskin stories. It went something like this: “You finished the quest and killed the dragon. However, instead of giving you the promised rewards, the townsfolk chase you out. So you do something no one’s dared do. You resurrect the dragon.”
Rumors of the dragon terrorizing the town of Birchwood had spread for weeks, with no news that anyone had managed to defeat it. So Valia had understandably expected the town to be more than a little run down, with its citizens cowering out of sight, any that remained.
Instead, the town seemed as busy as ever. Children played freely in the streets, and well-dressed housewives chatted with each other at the market. No patches on any of the pants or dresses, and Valia caught a whiff of one woman wearing an expensive perfume as she walked by.
She made her way to the adventurer’s guild, noting that the building was far more grand than the guild would require in a town of this size. The silence within only reinforced the feeling; instead of the crowds laughing and shouting among the tables that Valia was used to, the place was deathly quiet with only a couple of receptionists manning the desk.
Valia walked up to one, a younger woman with light brown hair pulled back in a bun. The reception flashed her a customer service smile. “Can I help you?”
“I’m here about the dragon.”
“Ah, yes.” The receptionist handed he a stack of paper. “The quest information is on top; underneath you can find the usual contracts, wavers, etc. Once you’ve finished filling these out, you’ll be free to pursue the dragon at your leisure.”
With a nod, Valia took the paperwork and retreated to a table near the window. The contract seemed fairly standard. The reward was a bit low for a case growing this infamous, though still within acceptable limits, at least as far as Valia was concerned.
Once she finished reviewing and signing everything, Valia took a few moments to stare out the window. A minute or two later, the receptionist came by and brought out a mug of ale. Valia raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t order this.”
“On the house. As a courtesy for any would-be dragon hunters. Unless you prefer something else? Water, perhaps?”
“It’s fine.” Valia turned her gaze back to the window. “Is this town really dealing with a dragon problem, though?”
The receptionist tilted her head. “What do you mean?”
There was a moment of silence before Valia replied, “It’s nothing.” She pushed the paperwork toward the receptionist. “Is there anything else you need before I head out?”
The reception quickly flipped through the stack. “Everything looks to be in order. Good luck on your hunt!”
Valia stood and slunk out the door, leaving her drink untouched.