Category: Fiction

  • Honesty’s Courage

    (Approximate story word count: 1500 words. Estimated reading time: 15 minutes.)

    Honesty did not know the intricacies of the realm of steam.

    Honesty did not know the details of whether they were alive or dead right now.

    Honesty could not actually bring themselves to care much about either of these points. To him, his friend was in danger somehow, and that meant he had to be strong to bring her back from the brink. Seeing Marieya shoot by above the party when they first awoke had filled him with a determination to move forward.

    The first challenge presented by the realm pushed some of the party to their limits, with Grem having a fair few issues with getting their attacks to land properly, potentially adjusting to the fact they genuinely did die before appearing in this realm. With the help of a steam shade in the shape of Marieya’s old friend Izumi, the group of undead phoenix knights were dispatched.

    As the party advanced past the manifestation of Donnermark, the landscape began to change. From the forests and city-like buildings slowly shifted to a more open feel, the surrounding buildings appearing suitable for a village and the environment becoming more like coastland. For all the party minus Grem, they knew what they were approaching.

    The Beach of Thorns was on the horizon.

    Various painful memories resurfaced for Jørgen, Fauna, and in particular Honesty. For the former two, this was the place where a quest ended in futility as their efforts to bring back their companion failed due to circumstances out of their control. For the latter, it was a painful reminder of a life left behind, a message sent from a long-time rival, and a final farewell with no chance to say what was left unspoken.

    Fauna came close to Honesty, kneeling down slightly to be able to rub him on the back. “Are you doing okay?”, she said, her tone aiming to try to reassure her friend, “it must be hard coming back here, even if it isn’t really real.”

    “It’s real to me,” Honesty said, nervously fiddling with one of the rings on his hand, “but I can’t stop. Marieya needs me.”

    The town had taken on an appearance almost akin to having a tsunami hit. Houses looked damp and water-logged, with doors and windows ripped off their hinges, significant rotting on the wooden frames, and furniture either tipped over or annihilated completely. True to the mind that created it, everything was in a state of disrepair.

    This was especially true for the foe that party had fought in this area, an apparatus of the crab. Used by Honesty’s rival Cunning to try to take the unanimated body of Vantar back to Zobeck in exchange for a generous bounty, the fearsome war machine laid in various pieces but everyone was still on edge of what this realm could produce.

    Everyone approached it with caution, ready for any attack it might launch. A loud bang rung out through the deserted town, but it did not come from the apparatus, it instead came from the distance. A glowing, diant projectile had been sent flying through the air and landed right into the middle of the apparatus’s remains, immolating it completely.

    “Well, well, well,” a malicious, booming voice said, a metallic twang echoing with each syllable, “looks like the cowardly kobold came back to the scene of his friend’s failure.”

    A figure appeared from the steam, and the entire party gasped. Honesty came close to dropping his weapons in sheer shock at what he was seeing.

    It seemed to be… Vantar? But they were not the same as they were before. The influence of the phoenix had seemed to corrupt their image, more steam-powered pistons seemed to make up their body, some of them burning red hot with malicious energy. Additionally, two large mortars had been attached to their back, capable of firing projectiles infused with divine energy.

    “Honesty… you always chased a cause long after it had been lost,” Vantar said, facing down their former travelling companion, “why do you follow a girl who failed to save me? Why do you choose being a coward over standing for yourself?”

    “I… you… see…”, Honesty said, stuttering over their words before sighing deeply, looking down at the ground, “it wasn’t her fault you died, she tried her best… it was mine… I could have done more…”.

    A clattering of steam pistons attempted to form a sound of disgust in Vantar’s throat, almost sounding like a scoff, saying, “even now you try to defend her. If I have to force you to face me, I will.

    With those words Honesty felt himself being dragged forwards towards Vantar, an almost irresistible force of magic compelling him to fight this twisted apparition of their former friend despite every ounce of his body telling him not to… this was until Jørgen slashed their palm through the air with vigour, dispelling the magic with a Northern curse.

    “How cute,” the steamforged illusion said, “even here you put your friends at risk because of your own failings – witness what happens to those who interfere!”.

    The firing cylinders on the mortars rotated and then locked into place, a steam piston launching the round into the air with the intent of nailing Jørgen with a direct hit. However, the phoenix had made a slight oversight when creating this challenge from Marieya’s mind: Vantar did not have the skills required to operate such a weapon, and when aiming at a nonstationary target such as a wizard, the shot went completely wide.

    With their focus drawn elsewhere, Grem charged the illusion, inflicting some serious damage with his greatsword, whilst Fauna and Izumi ran close to Honesty to offer comfort.

    “Don’t listen to him,” Fauna said, casting a simple spell of defence around the kobold as she crouched down next to him, “we all know you loved Vantar deeply, and did everything you could to save him. None of us think you’re a coward, in fact we all think you are incredibly strong for making it this far.”

    “I’d put a fucking sock in this twat’s mouth if I could,” Izumi said, taking a much more blunt approach to the situation, “I know that you know that’s bullshit, but I also know how Marieya felt after this. She was torn up inside that she couldn’t do more, and she wanted nothing more than to comfort you after it happened.”

    Honesty was still trembling with fear, but had managed to retain a grip on their weapons. The words of this conjured foe had come close to breaking him, but he heard the words of his allies louder, and images of the true Marieya passed through in his mind.

    Her sheepish smile whenever she said something silly.

    Her determination in the face of adversity.

    How she would have done anything to make sure Honesty was okay.

    He stood up from the embrace of his friends, and walked forward with rapier in hand. “You’re lying to me,” he said, reaching his opponent and staring him down, “I am not a coward. Marieya is my friend. And I’m saving her from this hellhole even if I have to strike you down!”.

    The kobold lunged forward with their rapier, the world around its tip seeming to distort slightly as if an almost cosmic force was helping to propel it forward. Vantar’s heavy armour plating around their chest was torn asunder, reinforced metal being turned into shards and shavings as the blade kept going. Piercing through internal systems before stabbing all the way through the corrupted soul gem that was powering them.

    Systems and springs exploded as the source of their locomotion was destroyed, parts of their body falling off until they were reduced to their base skeleton, falling to their knees to bring them eye level with Honesty. 

    With the phoenix’s influence severed and their strength weakening, they only managed to say a short phrase, “Hon.. es… ty… proud… of… you…”, before collapsing to the ground entirely, quickly dissipating back into steam from which it was created.

    The trial completed, the path to the next area revealed itself. Izumi stated they could go no further, mentioning about how they were the first one to go. In typical fashion she wished the party well, urging them to save Marieya and asking them to remind her she has a lot else she is good at.

    In the distance the phoenix in control of Marieya’s body watched over these events, feeling their grip on her weakening as her meddlesome friends kept trying to prove why they were coming to save her. They could not keep this up through other challenges, eventually their will would be broken.

    The phoenix was about to receive several rude awakenings.

    Inspiration

    Little bit of a different take on the usual Midgard campaign, now taking on the viewpoint of our Kobold Rogue, Honesty.

    When this campaign first started, Honesty had a travelling companion in the form of a Gearforged Kobold Paladin named Vantar. Due to some unfortunate luck they died early on in the campaign, forming the focus of the party as we worked to revive them, which was a successful endeavour. Their player decided to leave the group shortly after this point, leading to a change of direction and Vantar staying dead for…

    …no, you sent a message to your boyfriend to get a silly picture for an article.

    However, as I was sitting down with my DM for this game plotting out the various stations of the realm of steam, a vicious and diabolical idea came to me. The Beach of Thorns was a plot critical moment for Honesty, but it also carried mental consequences for Marieya, as she realised she had lost yet another person associated with her, and took that quite heavily.

    So, when mixed with the warping influence of the uncaged phoenix soul, this incident took the shape of a steam-twisted Vantar, hell bent on attempting to break Honesty’s will and perception of Marieya.

    Unsurprisingly, this failed completely.

    Out of the three areas I had responsibility for running in the realm of steam, this one was probably the one I doubted myself the most on in the moment. Especially as I feel I severely underestimated how quick the party would be able to dispatch Vantar with several methods of attack.

    However, this underestimation lead to quite an amazing moment which I feel translated well into the story. Honesty had locked up for a round because of the taunts from Vantar, the compelled duel being counterspelled. Vantar was bloodied at the start of Honesty’s turn but a critical hit followed by a critical sneak attack put them on somewhere in the region of ten hitpoints, so I decided to end the fight there on a climatic moment like that.

    A personal aside… revisiting the realm of steam for another story, even from the perspective of another, still puts me into a very emotional frame of mind to write in. 

    As part of scrolling back through Discord chat logs as research, I encountered the inciting incident that set this all off, Marieya’s death at the hands of a breath weapon. In that moment everything came flooding back to how I felt that night, vivid memories of what was done and said as real as the day they were created. 

    Even with having Marieya back now, I can safely say this changed my outlook on the game completely, and I’m somewhat curious to explore this frame of mind more in one or two more realm of steam stories.

  • Orianna’s Crisis

    (Approximate story word count: 1300 words. Estimated reading time: 13 minutes.)

    A meeting with a merchant and a panicked conversation about relationships were the only standout moments from a day of ultimately boring travel, and as the four beautiful women, their kobold, and their guides settled down for the night, an order of watches was determined. 

    Juliet had gone first, and the watch was uneventful.

    Seb and Valzin went next, and the watch was uneventful.

    Orianna was awoken for her watch, shocking the life out of Seb in process as she bolted upright, shouting, “I’m here I’m awake I promise I wasn’t going to oversleep!”

    “Alright girl, I get it! Don’t need to dart around like that… I’m gonna go to sleep”, Seb said in response, before collapsing onto their bedroll. Orianna stood up and brushed herself down before wandering off to the main viewpoint down and around the tunnel.

    It did not take long for Orianna to lose her focus however. Her eyes glazed over as she paced aimlessly across her designated path, sometimes looking up trying to see if anything was directly coming at her and sometimes going to idly look at her hands, examining them closely and…

    …wait?

    No.

    It can’t be.

    “WHATDOYOUMEANIVEBROKENANAILWHILSTIVEBEENDOWNHEREOHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHNOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!”

    Orianna had indeed broken a nail. A manicure that had taken almost three hours of work with layering different kinds of white polish, adding a layer of silver glitter polish on top before finally decorating the tips with three small clear gemstones. A perfect work of nail art, that had been somehow cracked during combat.

    “It’s alright it’s alright it’s alright I can fix this my glove has kept it somewhat in shape if I just take it off and-”, upon taking off her glove, Orianna saw the damage was much greater than initially thought, the nail was almost completely snapped off, the initial break itself at a weird angle.

    “Ohhhhhhh come on I can’t even glue this back together with how it comes off!”, she said, continuing to panic before running back over to her backpack to look for nail clippers, “Waterskin… bedroll… cutlery… makeup… brushes… makeup… brushes… where the hell are they?!”

    The backpack was completely emptied, but no nail clippers were found. Orianna racked her brain to think of where they might be, before having an epiphany.

    They were in a drawer in her side table, next to the letter from Eirina. She had somehow forgotten to pack them.

    “Oh you have got to be kidding me how could I forget those okay admittedly I forgot a lot of things but nail clippers are important!”, she said, taking sharper and sharper breaths, bordering on hyperventilation as she tried to figure out a solution to her problem.

    She reached down to the thin, sharp, delicate blades tucked into her garters, fully contemplating using one of them to slice off the errant nail, before realising she had a better tool. One of her edged cards would provide an even thinner tool to try to make the cut.

    In a rare occasion, Orianna held her breath as she used the card to slice the nail off, letting everything out in one relieved exhale as she managed to-

    “OHCOMEONIHELDMYBREATHWHYDIDYOUNOTCUTSTRAIGHT?!”

    -make a complete hack job of it.

    It was a quick dash back to her backpack to go find a nail file to try straighten out her improvised, but nonetheless shoddy, handiwork. She looked through all of her brush bags and makeup cases, but there she had no files.

    “Okay how could I have forgotten those too theyyyyyyy are not kept with brushes so I completely blanked on picking them up when packing my bag okay that’s on me…”, she said, pondering about using her rapiers as a sort of radial file until an… interesting tool choice came to mind.

    Whilst not a tool for physical beauty, a whetstone was sort of like a nail file. It was not, but to Orianna’s panicked mind it would fulfil a purpose, using the utmost of her dexterity to try to reshape the nail to make it look less out of place until she could get a proper manicure. And whilst the nail was now tidier, it still looked out of place.

    The worried words had now just become a sequence of stressed sounds and meaningless mumbles as Orianna considered her next move.

    She thought about hunting the merchant down again and asking to buy some soft leather gloves rather than the lace ones she was wearing, she considered just leaving it and praying that none of the gorgeous, beautiful, absolutely divine women in the group would just not notice it. In her panic, a stupid idea manifested into her head.

    “If I cut off the other nail on my other hand and try tidy that one up I could blag it as it being a feature nail of sorts and that’s why it’s shorter to give more highlight to the other gemstones on my other fingers saying it out loud it sounds kind of stupid but I need to do something!”

    Reaching for another edged card, she had to make more delicate deliberate slices, both to make an initial cut into the nail and then to try match the roughshod appearance of the original nail. All the while she was making panicked noises, and had now begun to cry, attracting the attention of a meditating Lorelei Shadowhand.

    The drow sorcerer had proved herself a worthy combatant, and a useful source of knowledge on politics & customs down in the Underdark, especially pertinent when interrogating others of her type. Using her telepathic abilities, she spoke directly to Orianna’s mind. “I can hear you crying,” she said, “come over and show me what’s wrong.”

    Yelping slightly at hearing the calm, dulcet tones of Lorelei’s voice directly in her head, Orianna shuffled over gently to show the focus of her concerns. Lorelei’s face was unfazed at the situation she had found herself in, but a gentle raise of her eyebrow showed she was quite shocked at the steps Orianna had taken.

    Mentally running through the spells she was capable of, Lorelei tried to think of a solution. Conjuring her shadow hound to retrieve some nail supplies could have been an option, but finding any in range meant it was a no go. Casting an illusion to give the appearance of complete nails had the potential to work, but given the illusions were static it would not have kept appearances up for long.

    Eventually, a temporary solution was reached. Muttering some words of power and performing complex gestures, Lorelei turned Orianna invisible so as to make her messed up nails invisible. Admittedly this was not a permanent fix, but it would keep her calm enough until morning where they could think of a better plan.

    “Oh my god thank you so much Lorelei this helps hide things so much and-OHCRAPICANTSEEMYLEGSNOW!”, Orianna said, finding a new reason to panic.

    “Yes Orianna,” Lorelei said, sighing ever so slightly, “that’s because I had to make all of you invisible.”

    “Oh right sorry yeah that makes sense anyway you can go back to thinking about whatever elves think about in their weird sleep but not sleep thing I’m gonna go back on watch okay bye love you thanks.”

    As Orianna bounded off, the sound of her heels clicking giving away her position even when invisible, Lorelei shook her head gently, “capable of felling foes triple her size, and yet she breaks at the most minor of personal problems…”

    The rest of the watch was uneventful, giving Orianna plenty of time to consider what her next manicure should look like. Maybe purple with black gemstones to match the vibe of the Underdark better.

    Inspiration

    In order: trying not to panic, trying to find nail clippers, trying to remember where nail clippers are, first nail cut, trying to find a nail file, using a whetstone instead, cutting off the other nail

    Look to your right. All of those checks are the result of roleplaying out Orianna having broken a nail whilst in the Underdark. As usual with taking watches, I was asked to make a Perception check to see if I saw anything whilst on watch.

    Not being the most perceptive type to begin with, this was made even worse by Nat 1-ing the check, which lead to the hilarious chain of events of figuring out how Orianna would react to having a broken nail she could not fix properly due to lacking the correct tools.

    Any reasonable person would have asked around the party to see if anyone had the right equipment.

    Orianna is not reasonable. Orianna is an overthinker who panics easily outside of combat, meaning she’s more likely to take a rash course of action using whatever tools she had on hand to try fix the problem, invariably making it worse.

    This did not take much effort to roleplay. I am someone who reveres my own nails. I absolutely love keeping my nails long and layering polish on late at night during a film or a D&D game to create the perfect manicure. And whilst I might not have the same reactions as Orianna, I do feel an intense moment of sadness when I realise one of them has broken.

    As an aside, it is a very nice change of pace to be able to write slice-of-life stuff for my characters, especially for someone like Orianna. Her introduction story was incredibly heavy which will be important for how she develops, but I feel an equal measure of joy in writing her calmer moments, being able to use the fact she is incredibly young and naive to my advantage in these pieces.

    And if more roleplay moments like this come up? Well, the stories basically write themselves at that point.

  • Orianna’s Expression

    (Approximate story word count: 1500 words. Estimated reading time: 15 minutes)

    No challenge seemed to faze the vanguard expedition into the Underdark. A collection of Magmin were dispatched with relative ease, a pack of Gricks fell in succession to a mix of fire and steel, and a Drow hunting party quickly found that these trespassers were not simply wayward tourists.

    Advancing further into the depths, the party and their guides decided to take a short break, more to catch their breath than heal any wounds. In this brief moment of a calm, Orianna du Fior took a moment to enjoy a passtime she had not partook in for a while: drawing.

    However, Juliet Alderbrand lurked around the young fighter, trying to see what she was doing.

    “Hey Dartfly,” she said, sidling up close. She had removed her armour and was wearing a simple red dress shirt with a somewhat deep V-neck, her blonde hair still mussed and matted from the amount of sweat her own fiery fighting style produced, “whatcha got there?”

    “Nothing!”, Orianna said, holding the paper close to her chest, “I’m not doing anything at all nope nothing suspicious going on here you can go now!”. 

    “Uh huh… hey Orianna… boobs!”

    “WHAT WHERE?!”

    In that brief moment of distraction Juliet managed to grab the piece of paper off of her, “on one hand, could kill us all, on the other, so easily distracted…” 

    She looked closely, furrowing her brow slightly as she took in what was drawn on it. “It’s… us? Crudely drawn I admit… well, tell a lie you’ve captured me perfectly but yeah this is a bit like a child’s drawing.”

    Orianna flushed as red as her dress, nervously stammering out her words. “W-well yeah it’s supposed to be everyone here,” she said, fiddling with some lace detailing, “but yeah I’m not so good at drawing my parents tried to teach me but it never went well.”

    “Parents, huh? What kind of people raised a hyperactive wind of destruction like you?”

    “The kind that left you estranged at age fifteen after not living up to their expectations.”

    An awkward silence descended between the two, Juliet realising that she might have made the conversation weird, before Orianna chimed in again. “Sorry that might have came off a bit heavy it wasn’t them it was me choosing to live life on my own terms.”

    “Oh phew,” Juliet said with a sigh, looking relieved that she had not brought up painful memories, “still, kinda sucks you had folks like that.”

    “Comes with originally being a noble I gu-”

    “FUCKING KNEW IT!”, Juliet said with glee before knowing she had made the conversation weird now, “…sorry, carry on?”

    “As I was saying yeah I was originally born a noble but it was never the life for me,” Orianna said, anxiously crossing and uncrossing her fingers, “all these lessons on art music board games deportment and all other uptight stuff just never get through to me I always found it hard to focus.”

    “Nobles get taught how to fight though, so you must’ve picked up something.”

    “Oh yeah I got taught how to fight it was one of the few things I was actually good at although my trainers… and my brothers… and other male family members were always taken aback at how well I fought.”

    “Probably shocked how someone like you could kick so much ass, given your size and style.”

    “Didn’t dress anywhere close to this back then the whole family heavily disapproved of my ‘radical and unbecoming’ life choices as they called it or ‘inappropriate behaviour for an heir’ later on.”

    Juliet went wide-eyed for a moment, learning so much about her travelling companion in a single sentence. “So uhm…”, she said, trying to figure out where to go from that point, “what happened in the end to push you out the door?”

    “Stole some stuff from one of my sister’s wardrobes stole some ancestral weapons to enter into a pit fight,” Orianna said, using her hands to act out charades of each point, “won the entire thing obviously but then I got home and my dad was pretty mad so with the money I had won that night I knew I could survive by myself for a while leading to me telling him where to shove his noble lifestyle before shattering his nose with the crossguard of the sword I took.”

    There was no hesitation in Juliet’s next action, which was to pull Orianna into a close, tight hug whilst she said, “I’m so proud of you”. Orianna on the other hand became extremely flustered in short order, making random “ah” and “buh” sounds as her arms quivered in an attempt to reciprocate the gesture.

    Juliet broke off, smirking to herself as she watched the elegant fighter continue to try to process what just happened. After she had calmed down, Juliet took a moment to think before saying, “suppose I should share my situation. Y’know we’re not actually that different thinking about it.”

    “We aren’t?”, Orianna said, intensely curious about what her companion meant by that.

    “Obviously different strokes for different folks but my parental relationship wasn’t the best either. ‘Oh Juliet you must calm down’, ‘Oh Juliet don’t use such crude language’, ‘Juliet burning down someone’s house is no way to get a husband’. It was near fucking constant.”

    Orianna took a rare moment of pause, before reaching into her backpack to grab a hairbrush. True to her style it was an ornate tool, cut from a single piece of marble. 

    She shuffled over to Juliet gently and went to try to work out the knots in her hair, an act that was met with resistance. “Oh no, no!”, Juliet said, gently pushing against Orianna, “you’ll just pull at my hair and make it worse.”

    In response Orianna ran her fingers through her own fiery locks with a reassuring smile, saying, “You have seen my hair right this stuff is smooth and silky whilst I can’t give you a full wash I can at least tidy things up”. 

    Juliet huffed slightly still before letting Orianna start to brush things out, slightly exaggerating how much certain strokes were pulling against her scalp until settling into the sensation. “So how did your situation end up changing for yourself then?”, Orianna asked as she worked.

    “Same as you, Dartfly,” Juliet said, wincing slightly as one knot took quite a bit of work to get through, “eventually got tired of hearing bullshit every day and walked out the door to never look back. Fell into more stable work than you did, which is how I met Seb.”

    “You two do seem quite close and like you have been through a lot with the way you talk about past adventures.”

    “Oh definitely, we’ve both caused our fair share of trouble and-hey, hey take it easy with that bit!”, Juliet said, interrupting her own thought to tell Orianna off, continuing to baffle the poor girl that someone who fights at their very limit is made uncomfortable by simple grooming, before continuing her sentence.

    “Despite this, Seb and I have stuck together through thick and thin. Always good to have someone who compliments you perfectly to get you out of tough spots right?”

    “I, uhm, yeah…”, Orianna said as she finished her work, her hand trembling slightly as she thought about the person who matched that description for her, “a-anyway I’m done, sorry if I hurt you or anything.”

    An incredulous chuckle was the response to this statement, Juliet saying, “I put up a fight cause I hate this crap, not cause it hurts. But if it makes you happy, then I guess it’s alright.”

    Juliet went to hand back the picture, with Orianna placing it back on the rock she was using as a support, continuing her work. “…actually I do have a favour to ask in return, if you don’t mind,” Juliet said.

    “Go on?”

    “Can you add some more fire scribbles to mine? Seb is perfect but I feel I need more for mine to be truly accurate.”

    Inspiration

    So as part of Orianna’s latest session, she ended up getting some +2 studded leather armour. Ignoring the fact this has continued her theme of being a near unstoppable killing machine, it presented me with a random impulse to draw Orianna trying on her new armour. 

    However, considering I have very little artistic skill and was doing this in Paint, it obviously did not turn out the most realistic looking. It did give me a new source of inspiration though: Orianna likes to draw but acknowledges she is not that good at it. This also allowed me to introduce a bit more of her backstory from even before her initial piece.

    Canonically, Orianna has some form of ADHD. The way this is intended to be portrayed is that her previous noble family tried to put her through classes for all the things that nobles are typically expected to take part in, but Orianna was never able to focus properly on them.

    She still enjoys some of the things she was exposed to, but she never had the focus to practice them in an educational environment. And her fighting lessons were obviously where she excelled, for the reason of fights often moving so fast that she did not have time to lose focus she could, for the first time in her life, excel at something.

    That said, it was not a case of her not enjoying the other activities she was presented with. It was more the environment and expectations that produced her feelings of dissatisfaction. Hence, when presented with an opportunity to create something without expectation and is actually encouraged by someone else, there is a swell of positive emotion and enjoyment in something that once had negative connotations.

    Plus it is kind of fun to just draw silly little things about the game going on in front of me, and having it be semi in character just adds a bit of flavour to the drawings.

  • Marieya’s Tutelage

    (Story word count: approximately 1500 words. Estimated reading time: 15 minutes)

    “So, for you see, sorcery can be seen as exploration. Those with innate magical powers push their own boundaries and are able to produce such incredible spells, some of which even the most astute arcane scholars would never be able to replicate themselves.”

    “But that is where the study of the arcane comes in, and acts more like cartography. They observe what the sorcerers have done and work tirelessly to not only figure out the how and why of where this magic came from, but to record it for preservation and to advance their own research.”

    Jørgen Brúnison smiled warmly at the very eloquent explanation between innate magic and learned magic, having hoped it assuaged Marieya’s concerns about how her phoenix soul influenced things… but having looked over and seeing the rather perplexed face his companion was making, he decided now was a good moment to excuse themselves.

    “Thank you though,” he said, “whilst the explanation will take some time to sink in for her, I appreciate such a thoughtful analogy”. The wizards exchanged bows, as Marieya’s awareness caught up with her, fumbling out a few words of thanks before offering a slightly messy bow herself before making a retreat with Jørgen.

    Whilst the wizard had been brought to much warmer territory than the Northlands, they still dressed in clothes suitable for such environments. A thick brown fur shawl encompassed his shoulders, with a woollen tunic covering down from the chest to the mid-thigh area. Beneath all these though were navy-coloured winter underclothes, ensuring complete insulation from the elements. 

    Both his gauntlets and boots were lined with similar fur to his shawl, with thick leather gloves completing the ensemble. A lustrous beard and long, but managed, hair gave Jørgen an aura of maturity that had helped the party along in many areas, especially when navigating Marieya’s somewhat anxious approach to life.

    The pair navigated their way to a quiet study area. Only one other person was there, and they seemed more focused, or rather, stressed, about the large textbook in front of them, so the two picked a table with some distance from that individual and sat down for a chat.

    “My apologies if putting you on the spot about the demiplane made you nervous,” Jørgen said, “you did handle it well all things considered. I just thought she would have found it interesting.”

    “Mharoti’s teach you to be good at improvising slash lying,” Marieya said in response, laughing slightly at her own observation, “plus she found it interesting… sorry for making assumptions of why you’d came here too.”

    “It is quite alright. Although it was quite disarming to hear something so different from you.”

    “I try not to speak about what I don’t know a lot about. Both colleges and relationships fall into that category. The former for being rejected from every magical organisation in the Shadow Realm, and the latter for… y’know.”

    “I understand your lost friends, but do you have any connections beyond that? Any siblings or family?”

    Marieya looked down at the table, slightly forlorn. “No, nothing of the sort that I can remember,” she said, sighing slightly, “guess I’ve always been sort of a loner.”

    “I see… it is just that in your nervous disposition around strangers yet fierce-”, Jørgen paused, backtracking his last word before continuing, “fiery dedication to those you care about, it reminds me of my little sister.”

    “You have a sister?”, Marieya said, looking up from the table with curiosity, “I guess they’re back home in the Northlands.”

    “There are four of us in total. Myself, my younger sister, an older sister, and an older brother. She was the youngest of us, and always tended to hide behind one of us… unless of course one of us got into trouble, then I feel she would be capable of staring down Ragnarök and telling it to go home!”

    The two friends shared a laugh at that idea, of this young girl staring down the literal apocalypse and going “no thank you” to it. “I remember a time like that for me,” Marieya said, wiping a joyous tear from her eye, “I’ve both calmed down and reignited my own flame, so I can relate in a way. What kind of work does she follow?”

    “Volunteered at a local shrine, dedicated to the twin goddesses. She must be close to her coming of age now, she was learning to read and write beautifully as part of her work.”

    “And I guess they’re all awaiting the return of their most scholarly sibling?”

    Jørgen tensed his fingers nervously before wrapping them around each other, seemingly in the unusual position of being lost for words before finally saying, “I hope no one is waiting on me. It had not felt like home for quite some time before I departed on my journey… whenever I think of what I know as home though, I pray for their safety.”

    A silence descended between the two for some time, neither knowing properly what to say. Marieya bit her lip gently before speaking again, “…I’m glad you’re lonely too.”

    The wizard looked at her, quite perplexed at what she had said. “Okay I know that sounds weird but let me explain. Neither of us are “alone” in the traditional sense, cause, we’ve got each other, along with Grem, Honesty, Fauna. But, both of us are somehow disconnected from what we call “home”, so we both feel our own sense of loneliness. Which means neither of us have to be alone in being alone because of what we share.”

    “…that made no sense at all did it?”

    “No, no,” Jørgen said in response, looking to reassure his friend, “it makes more sense than you realise, especially given an individual’s need for relatedness. On your note of feeling disconnected from home, do you ever yearn for when time was simpler back home, in the Shadow Realm?”

    Now it was Marieya’s turn to pause, as she looked down at her gloved hand, flexing her fingers slightly as she looked back on her actions and what led up to the moments of today. “Simpler is a subjective term,” she said, “sure we’re chased down by dragons, fighting hordes of undead, and have just unleashed the demon lord of conquest into the world. But things weren’t all good back then either.”

    “Phoenix blood doesn’t just make me different in a magical sense from most Shadow Fey. Certain things I feel differently as well… being crass a good portion of my people focus on sex, usually using congress with other Midgard beings as a premium for magical items, with the reason being “it warmed them”. Well, I never got that, maybe because I’ve always had warmth inside, but it kind of meant no one really got me, bar the few friends I had.”

    Another pause came, this time much shorter, before Marieya continued on. “Besides, I can’t really dwell too much, the life I led before can be left behind now. And home doesn’t have to be somewhere set in stone,” she looked up at Jørgen as she said this, and made a deliberate effort to make eye contact with him for her next point, “it can be two eyes and a heartbeat, y’know?”

    Having had such a deeply personal matter shared with him, Jørgen returned eye contact and smiled slightly, saying, “I definitely understand. Home need not be a place, home is whoever you can feel relaxed with. Sharing a house without those who feel special to you just serves as a reminder of what was lost… I do not think I am ready to discuss that one though.”

    Marieya reached out a hand and took Jørgen’s with it, squeezing gently. “We can talk whenever you’re ready, just don’t bottle it up and then explode into a ball of fiery feathers.”

    “I did and you’ve literally been inside my mind to see what effects it had.”

    Jørgen returned the hand squeeze, laughing softly, and said, “I think we all learnt something from your experience on that. It is at least more unique than crying into a bottle by moonlight, I have seen that one many times.”

    The laugh Marieya produced was one of nervous denial, “Hah, yeah, totally…”, she said, knowing full well she has done that one many times in the past. 

    Sensing her discomfort, the wizard seeked to change the topic to something more positive, saying, “I will say you are the best cleric I have seen in a while, both in action and during downtime.”

    “Thanks, wasn’t a role I exactly envisioned a while back,” she said with a sincere smile, “but I’m glad it has been able to help people in many ways. And I can say the same for yourself as a wizard… even if I’ve learnt you folk really like maps for some reason…”

    “Sure, we will go with that as the takeaway from today’s events.”

    Inspiration

    Starting the year off in the most reliable way I know how, with a Marieya story. This time though the stakes are much lower as I was mainly aiming to develop and explore the relationship Marieya and our wizard, Jørgen Brúnison, share.

    Jørgen often ends up being the unintentional face of the party, especially when it comes to serious political-ish matters in the world. Whilst his player does try to share the responsibility and make sure people are staying engaged, this is helpful when three of the remaining four party members have the potential to be diplomatic incidents. (the last one is usually a weasel)

    What brought about the main inspiration for this piece was a brief bit of roleplay myself and Jørgen’s player did in the text channel of the game, initially it took place during a non-specific long rest period, but given the two characters have now split off from the party to spend some time at a magical college, I figured that would have made sense thematically.

    Plus it allowed me to revisit the brilliant explanation between sorcerers and wizards and Marieya’s reaction to it. Whilst it was a very well constructed set of metaphors, having an Intelligence of 9 meant it was very much a case of smile, nod, and say something about maps so people know you at least sort of know what they said went in.

    One of the main points in this story is the first instance of Marieya’s sexuality being written down. All of my characters have their own sexual and romantic orientations because I want them to have them and no one can stop me, but this usually does not come up in regular play. 

    However, something discovered in the Midgard World Book during a general game discussion inadvertently led to something very narratively pleasing. Before this piece of information was discovered, Marieya’s orientations were always asexual and panromantic. 

    Though, the little detail of Shadow Fey saying that sex “warms them” provided a beautiful reason of why she always felt differently, and allowed me to further explore the positives of her phoenix blood.

    This was fun to write, and hopefully I get the chance to explore both Fauna’s and Grem’s connections to Marieya in the future.

  • Orianna’s Prelude

    (Story word count: approximately 5500 words. Estimated reading time: 55 minutes. CW: relationship breakdown, limb severing)

    “So three… two… one… open your eyes!”

    “So what is–A HOUSE?! A HOUSE IN GAUNTLGRYM?!”

    “Yup! Took a lot of my winnings to buy but it should be the perfect place to settle down!”

    “Oh my god, I love Dwarven architecture. This place is perfect Orianna. I love you.”

    “Love you too Eirina.”

    *****

    Evening had descended across the town. Traders and adventurers poured into taverns to celebrate a good day’s work, looking to relax in good company and maybe hear a few stories along the way.

    For some though, the setting of the sun meant chasing even greater thrills. Whilst some taverns served drinks, others served up excitement in the form of fighting pits, giving patrons something to watch and/or bet on. In particular, Raucous Rylie’s Riotous Rumble was extremely busy tonight, with a steady stream of spectators and competitors walking through the doors.

    There were the usual adventurer-types that were looking to quickly find some gold to buy new weapons and gear, amateur fighters looking to establish a style or gimmick in the hope it wins them fights and followers, and experienced past champions, looking to crush all beneath them for the chance of holding the winner’s trophy aloft once more.

    As evening turned to night, more and more competitors were eliminated until only four remained. A heavily armoured fighter looking to exhaust their opponents through superior defence, before landing brutal blows. An experienced craftsman looking to beguile opponents with their bespoke weaponry, aiming to catch them off guard through sheer surprise. A cleric aiming to spread their divine word through the glory of battle, with a side goal investing all winnings back to their temple.

    And finally, there was an elegantly dressed young lady, named Orianna du Fior.

    *****

    “So, why did you pick the name you did? Don’t think I ever asked.”

    “Well I wanted my new name to be something elegant something feminine y’know so I thought about it for a while and Orianna just kind of spoke to me.”

    “That’s pretty straightforward, but why the du Fior part? Aren’t you worried about being mistaken for a noble?”

    “That was a concern initially but I wanted to pick something that was truly mine and picking something with a hint of fanciness to it made me feel like myself for the first time in forever.”

    “…how do you talk so much without breathing? It’s both concerning and adorable.”

    *****

    Orianna was most certainly the anomaly in this line up, as even the cleric and the craftsman were wearing significantly stronger armour than herself. Her armour was definitely sturdy and offered a modest amount of protection, but it seemed as if she had put more emphasis on her outfit than anything else.

    A light green blouse with full, puffed sleeves ending in elegant cuffs with gold detailing laid underneath a darker green dress with apron-style straps, hands covered by soft leather gloves, more for form rather than function. The bodice of the dress was corseted with solid brown laces, two brown panels either side of the bodice providing contrast whilst also building up the forest colour palette. 

    This bodice then extended into an A-line skirt enhanced by a massive, multi-layered petticoat, poofing out in all directions. The skirt was solid green, with gold detailing in the style of elven branches looping all around the hem, which was trimmed in brown velvet.

    Beneath the skirt, Orianna’s legs were encased in light green tights matching her blouse leading down to what many considered impractical footwear for fighting, but for Orianna she would rather be seen dead than without a pair of high heels on. An elegant pair of four inch beige stilettos with anklets themed after roses wrapped delicately above.

    Adorning her shoulders was her prized magical cloak. Fashioned after a capelet, the item also bore a minor colour-shifting enchantment that allowed her to wear it with whatever outfit and the hue would shift accordingly to be in perfect coordination with the rest of her attire. 

    Some participants throughout the evening had put on war paint in an attempt to look intimidating, and whilst Orianna would call her extensive makeup routine something similar as a jest, the kind of makeup used only served to further disarm opponents. Orianna’s face was beauty incarnate: perfectly blended foundation, delicately pink painted lips, inky black mascara complimented by reddish violet eyeshadow. 

    Vibrant orange hair was tied into two lightly curled pigtails, a dark green bow with gold accents adorning each one, side-swept bangs brushing lightly above glistening emerald eyes full of anticipation and excitement.

    *****

    “So you make all your money via fighting pits? Doesn’t that seem… kind of dangerous?”

    “Well it kind of is but kind of isn’t cause you see I didn’t really have much I was good at growing up except when I got taught duelling that was the only real thing I could focus on for any period of time so it just kind of extended into a love of fighting.”

    “Well, you won’t have to do it so much anymore. I can help out with keeping this place stocked.”

    “Alright but I still kind of want to do it you don’t build up a collection of awesome ass weapons without wanting to show them off.”

    “Just, please don’t overdo it. You mean a lot to me Ori.”

    “You mean the absolute world to me Rina.”

    *****

    Outside of the waiting room the four remaining competitors were sitting in, Raucous Rylie, as she was known, was warming up the crowd. Being a tiefling, she was able to amplify her voice greatly, making her the perfect emcee for such an event. 

    “What’s up chucklefucks?!”, she said with volume and gusto from her podium, wearing a fine dress shirt complimented by a tailored waistcoat, “we have only four remaining in the competition tonight and I hope you’ve all got your bets in because they are now closed!”. Some groans emanated from the audience as they realised their window of opportunity had passed them by.

    “Tonight’s final will be done king of the hill style, with the top two contestants from the feeder series forming the first match. With that, please give it up for the cunning craftsman, Dimitri Powderkeg!”

    There was a distinctly Dwarven chorus of cheers as they entered into the pit, wearing robust half-plate, but their armour was not the main event. The focus of their loadout were their interesting weapons, ranging from a crossbow enhanced with an automatic loading mechanism and a war axe modified to have a shoving edge designed to knock opponents over.

    “And a usual face round these parts, you all know her, you all love her, please give it up for the beautiful brawler, Orianna du Fior!”

    Whilst the dwarves were specifically cheering for Dimitri, everyone seemed to cheer for Orianna, who came skipping out of the waiting room before twirling and giving a light curtsy to her opponent, drawing her two elven rapiers and standing at first position pointing her weapons downwards.

    “Alright you two, you know the rules and so do I,” Rylie said, “the first one to be knocked unconscious is the loser. And don’t worry, when I declare the victor I’ll get a healing word in at the same time.”

    “You ready?!”

    “THREE!”

    “TWO!”

    “ONE!”

    “LET’S GET A RAUCOUS RIOT GOING!”

    Dimitri instantly reached for his automatic crossbow and took aim down elaborate iron sights at Orianna, though once he saw his opponent was still standing in a straight-legged stance, he lowered his weapon with a quizzical expression. “Ey, lassie!”, he said, adopting a tone of both confusion and concern, “you did hear the tiefling right? We can start fighting!”

    “Oh I know but I just wanna see what you’re capable of first so go ahead give me your best shot!”, Orianna said, smiling sweetly at her opponent and bouncing around gently on her heels. 

    Still confused, but not one to disregard an advantage, the dwarf smirked before looking down the sights once more. “Alright, but be warned,” he said with confidence, “you heard the might of the dwarves behind me, and I will bring all of that might down on you!”

    With a pull of the trigger, the custom firing mechanism within the crossbow whirred into life and let loose a torrent of bolts towards Orianna, several sharp-tipped projectiles approaching at high speed. Dimitri had aimed true, and felt sure they would hit their mark… that was until Orianna effortlessly parried all of them with her swords.

    “Aww that’s cute I almost got hit there!”, she said in a gleeful tone. “Now let me show you what I’m capable of!”. Unfazed by the offensive capabilities of her opponent, Orianna skipped forward, effortless on her heels across the dusty surface of the pit. The dwarf was surprised, no one had the reaction speeds to deflect a full onslaught, but coming into melee was not a wise decision either.

    Stowing their crossbow and instead brandishing their custom axe, he stood at the ready with the shoving side, aiming to force his opponent prone in order to quickly dispatch them. Though Orianna’s actions continued to confuse him, as she was not raising her weapons, still skipping forward.

    Wary but prepared for the worst, Dimitri pushed forward with all his force, yelling with the ferocity of a mountain landslide only for Orianna to effortlessly sidestep past him without even blinking. “How sweet you thought that would work!”, Orianna said, giggling as she looped behind her opponent, “but now you can see what I can do!”.

    And before he had time to react to yet another taunt, Dimitri felt several sharp points digging into his back, a rapid series of blows from elegant weapons being methodically stabbed through the weak points of his armour, weakening him significantly.

    Caught off guard by the sheer agility of the beautiful fighter before him, a change of tactics was needed. If she was too quick to be knocked over, then depriving her of her weapons might be a viable option, such a move needed the right moment though, moments there were quickly fading due to how many blows Orianna had successfully landed whilst Dimitri had not landed any.

    Soon a window opened very briefly whilst Orianna repositioned herself, and the dwarf launched forward with a hook on the pommel of his impressive axe, managing to latch onto the ornate hilt of each sword and throwing it to the ground. Orianna was quick but her physical strength was somewhat lacking.

    “You let your guard down girlie,” Dimitri said, finally getting his own opportunity to taunt, “won’t get far without your weapons.”

    “Well not those ones,” Orianna said, ruffling her skirt gently, “but I still got some of these stashed away!”. And with that Orianna drew bladed playing cards from within hidden pockets in her skirt, tossing them at Dimitri with a rapid pace. 

    The first two cards bounced ineffectively off his armour, leading the dwarf to believe he had got the upper hand, but once he attempted to charge forward, a final card thrown flew at just the right angle to let the edge of the card slash his throat wide open. He stood aghast for a moment as blood began to pour from his neck before collapsing to the ground, gasps of the audience barely being heard off a bell ringing.

    “And with that gnarly and bloody display,” Rylie said, a wave of healing energy rushing over Dimitri as she spoke, “Orianna du Fior wins her first match in spectacular style!”. The crowd burst into cheers and applause, Orianna’s reputation as a skilled fighter being on full display tonight.

    *****

    “And where have you been?”

    “Sorry sorry sorry I wasn’t expecting the pit to go this late tonight I know we said we’d have date night but the finals dragged on longer than I was expecting due to some wizards spending all their time deliberating.”

    “You could have left early? I got us a fancy bottle of wine and your favourite cake just for tonight…”

    “I mean yes but I still managed to win! Look at this new trophy for my cabinet and it came with this decent sack of platinum too so I can make it up with another date later!”

    “Yeah, that’s… that’s nice Ori. Would have been nice to have the effort tonight to mean something though. Still, we can share the cake I suppose.

    “Yay! Oh I love you so much Eirina you’re too good to me.”

    “Yeah, love you too.”

    *****

    Neck wound now fully closed, Dimitri stood up and walked over to Orianna, eyes wide in disbelief. “I thought my craft was at its peak,” he said, sounding somewhat dejected, “guess I still have a lot to learn…”

    He went to leave the pit before getting tapped on the shoulder by Orianna, and before he could react after turning around, she had pulled him into a hug. “Your craft is excellent don’t be sad!”, she said, “if you have a shop I’d love to get some weapons made by you someday!”.

    The dwarf smiled and said, “Aye, that’d be grand. I’ll get an address written up for you,” before leaving through the adjoining waiting room and joining the dwarves who had cheered him on above, toasting a good effort against a very worthy opponent.

    “We’ll be taking a quick ten minute interlude,” Rylie said, pointing in two opposite directions, “you’ll want to get your drinks in now, next fight is set to be lit as all hell so you do not want to miss this!”

    Orianna grabbed her swords off of the ground and sauntered back over to the waiting room, where a cleric just shrugged their shoulders at her due to the lack of wounds sustained, instead offering her some refreshments.

    *****

    “I was wondering when you wou-Nine Hells what has happened to you?!”

    “Oh I’m fine Eirina there’s just a few holes in my tights a little bit of lacework gone from my dress and a compound fracture on my right arm.”

    “And you walked home like this?! What if you had got ambushed?! I thought these places had healers around for things like this!”

    “Oh this one did but the bloke looked a bit dodgy and I knew you’d be here and I trust you more anyway so help me please?”

    “Fine, I suppose. Can’t sleep with someone when their bone is threatening to take my eye out.”

    “Love you lots Eirina!”

    “Love you too, damned fool.”

    *****

    Interlude complete, Rylie took her stand on her podium once more, now wielding a very large and fruity looking cocktail, somehow not spilling a drop despite her animated movements. “A fight pit pairing you all know and love is up next,” Rylie said, “speed versus strength, defense versus dexterity, beautiful to the girls versus beautiful to the guys. Who is who in that last one? That’s up to you to decide!”.

    “Give a raucous welcome back to the pit for Zehalak Steelbender!”.

    Quiet gasps and muttering spread as a towering firbolg entered into the arena through the side door, needing to duck down in order to get through. From head to toe they were encased in extremely high quality plate armour, very few gaps in protection showing to the average eye. But this was not where average eyes were looking, instead they were focused on the gigantic weapon now in play.

    Whilst metal had provided the protection, it was nature that would provide the offense. The weapon bore similarities to a maul, with a large, fortified branch acting as the handle. This led into what was a massive segment of a tree trunk that had been sawed roughly at both ends, making it an unwieldy to use weapon, but dangerous if it managed to hit.

    “And returning once more to try and take the top prize tonight, Orianna du Fior!”

    The crowd returned to loud cheering and clapping as the girl skipped back into the arena, looking up at her opponent with a grin. “Hi Zelly!”, she said, greeting this towering fighter with a surprisingly childish nickname, “hope you’re all ready and fired up cause you still haven’t beaten me properly yet!”

    What little of Zehalak’s face was on show betrayed his imposing image as he returned the smile to Orianna and saying, “I still beat you once little sproutling, it was just we both got our asses handed to us.”

    “Can catch up some other time you two,” Rylie said, interrupting the brief exchange the two were having, “you’ve been around this circuit enough and been around here to know the deal, so I’m just gonna do the count, alright?”

    “THREE!”

    “TWO!”

    “ONE!”

    “LET’S GET A RAUCOUS RIOT GOING!”

    Unlike her fight with Dimitri, Orianna took no time at all to get going. She started moving rapidly, darting back and forth between her opponent whilst circling them, her eyes analysing for any weakness or gap in the armour.

    Zehalak on the other hand knew he did not have to use such tactics and instead began swinging with his mighty weapon, the size of which meant he could not attack with great frequency, as he needed to realign himself after each mighty swing impacted into the ground or missed.

    This happened quite frequently, as whilst Orianna could not match in terms of armour, her speed and agility made up for it. She was able to effortlessly dodge out of the way of attacks before returning fire with a riposte, some bouncing effortlessly off the plate armour, but some managing to get a hit in through the smallest windows of opportunity.

    The brawl continued like this for some time, almost turning into an aggressive dance of sorts. Both opponents took turns to lead the other in the hope of landing the perfect attack. Eventually though, a brief lapse in focus for Orianna allowed Zehalak to land his trunk maul squarely onto Orianna’s torso, impacting into her hard and sending her flying into the wall.

    Her reactions came back to her quickly as she fell down, landing on one foot with her opposite knee bent down. What little armour she wore had protected her from any major damage, but she was severely winded and most definitely still feeling some pain from that blow. She also knew her opponent would not be waiting around, and so took time to formulate a plan of attack as she caught her breath.

    Seeing his attack was successful, the firbolg took two steps back before launching into a charge, wielding his mighty weapon ready for an attack, but he hoped his momentum slamming into Orianna would be enough to finish her off.

    This charge was exactly the moment Orianna needed, and with a second wind brewing after her momentary break she knew exactly what to do. With Zehalak rapidly closing in, she gripped her weapons tight and stared dead ahead. Still kneeling, she waited for the ideal moment to strike, which came in the exact second she was about to get rammed into.

    Time seemed to almost slow down for the two of them as Orianna used her expert dexterity and smaller stature to slide herself between Zehalak’s legs, stabbing both of her rapiers into the popliteus tendons, an extremely vulnerable area on the back of the knee unprotected by armour. This sent Zehalak stumbling to the ground hard, plate clattering against plate as they slid across the surface of the pit.

    Orianna strutted over to her now nonambulatory opponent and went to swiftly end the battle with a quick stab to the side to render him unconscious.

    “I yield.”

    With those words Orianna’s blade stopped mere millimetres away from piercing even more of the firbolg’s flesh, demonstrating absolute control over her weaponry. “Speed won out, but that play also required serious smarts. Orianna du Fior wins her second match!”, Rylie declared, as healing magic washed over Zehalak.

    “Oh my gosh Zelly are you okay I’m sorry that was the best move I had in mind I hope I didn’t hurt you too much?”, Orianna said, going over to check on her acquaintance.

    “It hurt like hell sproutling,” Zehalak grunted, bringing themselves back to their feet and patting Orianna on the head gently, “and that’s why you deserved to win. You used your smarts and overcame my strategy.”

    “Next time I’ll get you! And that’s a promise!”

    Finishing off her cocktail, Rylie continued on with proceedings, and said, “We only have one fight left tonight, and it is going to be a good one! Ten minutes once more to get the next round of drinks in before the grand finale!”

    *****

    “She’s covered in blood again. Why does she always come home covered in blood?”

    “Eiriiiinnnnaaaaa I loooovvveeee yoooouuuuu!”

    “Great. You are both covered in blood and drunk out of your mind. Do you have any idea how worried I have been?”

    “It’s fiiinnneee I still won and I wasn’t out too late!”

    “You were gone all night! Did you go to a pit a day’s travel away?”

    “Bit of a trek but it was worth it god those people drink some strong stuff.”

    “You’re never going to change are you? You’re always going to put what you love before who you love, aren’t you?”

    “I loovee you Eirina…”

    “That gives me an answer then.”

    *****

    “One fight. A chance for one to take it all.”, Rylie said, carrying a somehow larger and fruitier cocktail than the one she had last round. “Welcome back to the pit the multiple Riotous Rumble champion – Orianna du Fior!”

    Pirouetting her way onto the field, Orianna was met with thunderous applause from the crowd. Dimitri and his band of dwarves cheered loudly for her, and Zehalak clapped softly from the sidelines, now wearing much more comfortable clothing.

    “And now give a riotous welcome to a new face around these parts. They proved their divine power in the preceding rounds, but will the heavens have their back tonight? Entering now – Tarquin Palmerston!”

    The cheers and clapping were quieter as this refined individual made their way into the arena. They carried themselves with an air of superiority, as if his work made him better than anyone he would face. He wore fine robes, befitting of his position, the silk seeming to glisten in what minimal light there was, a breastplate adorned with the symbol of his god secured tightly around his chest, a similar sigil was displayed on his shield.

    What concerned Orianna was that he came in carrying only a dagger, and in her experience in fighting the faithful, they did not tend to deal in concealing their weapons. “Oh crap they’re a magic user,” Orianna thought to herself, “this is going to be difficult but I can make it work I have made this work in the past.”

    “This is a tough challenge upcoming, but that is only going to make the entertainment greater! Are you ready?”

    “THREE!”

    “TWO!”

    “ONE!”

    “LET’S GET A RAUCOUS RIOT GOING!”

    Knowing she needed to move quickly, but also very wary of what could be in store for her, Orianna advanced with both rapiers drawn and tried to quickly analyse her opponent’s weak spots. He needed his hands to cast spells, and his arms were left exposed by the breastplate, that was where she needed to strike.

    But as she drew back ready to lunge, a sudden malaise came over her. Everything felt sluggish and generally not right. “I uh huh,” Orianna said, speaking quickly even whilst disoriented, “what are you doing to me?”

    Tarquin smirked as he remained unmoved. “A simple curse spell my dear,” he said, his voice laced with condescension, “brutes such as yourself usually fumble when subjected to it.”

    The taunt mildly enraged Orianna, and she attempted to launch into a flurry of attacks. Due to the curse though, her strikes were no longer the pinpoint accurate stabs she had done before. They were sluggish, sloppy, imprecise. Some managed to land, although all they did was leave surface level cuts on the skin.

    “Pathetic,” Tarquin said, his words closing up his wounds as he stepped back, “I thought you were the best around these parts? Is this the best a legendary fighter can do?”

    “You are really starting to make me mad you not very nice so and so!”, Orianna said, trying her hardest to shake off the curse, but her mind was scattered at the best of times, and trying to align it to reinforce her mental defenses was proving difficult. Nonetheless she still tried attacking the cleric, landing blows which were quickly healed off with more snide comments.

    Eventually, Tarquin yawned, saying, “Alright, let me see what you can do,” and ended the curse. Feeling her energy and hyperactivity return, Orianna began an assault with her two trusted blades, starting up the combo of alternating stabs, finally feeling confident in this fight as her opponent started to take more visible damage.

    Until suddenly she could not move at all, her body seemingly suspended in time. “Ugh, how drab,” Tarquin said, walking around his paralysed prey, “a legendary fighter with only two moves, stab and more stab.”

    He healed off whatever wounds Orianna had to managed inflict as he circled back around to her front, holding out both hands and beginning to channel divine energy into them. “Witness the power of those above!”, he said, before the divine force pushed against and wrapped around Orianna, throwing her to the ground and leaving her severely bloodied, swords thrown to either side of her.

    Members of the crowd gasped in shock and awe that such a fighter could be taken down to the ground. She was not out though, barely holding onto consciousness on the floor as Tarquin walked over to her, drawing his dagger.

    “So sweet, so full of life,” he said, with a lamentable tone, “and yet, not knowing the fulfilment and joy that comes with being loved by something, or someone, greater than yourself.”

    “Love…”, Orianna said to herself, as one of tonight’s roughest memories came back to her mind.

    *****

    “Hey Eirina I’m home! I know I haven’t been the best girlfriend lately due to staying out late shunting the responsibility of healing me onto you and coming home drunk but have I got a surprise for you!”

    “I went to the market and got everything to make your favourite food I’ve got that wine you’re always going on about that you love and I had a special dragonchess set made custom to you and what you love!”

    “…Eirina? Are you home? Oh I know you may be sleeping off the events of last cause I kept you up quite a bit.”

    “Huh weird she’s not in here either… oh there’s a letter on the bed and it’s from Eirina!”

    “Let’s see what she wants to tell… me…”

    “…oh…”

    “…I mean, like, I get it, but…”

    “…damnit Orianna, why did you have to push her away too?”

    “Gah, who’s open tonight… oh sweet Rylie is hosting tonight, fighting at her place should help me get my head clear.”

    *****

    “No matter,” Tarquin said, raising his dagger up, “magic brought you down, but my blade shall seal my supreme victory!”. With that he brought it back down with speed, intending to finish Orianna off. That did not happen, as Orianna parried his dagger with one of her own she had hidden on her person. It was expertly crafted, with a curved blade, almost reminiscent of a blade an assassin would use.

    Pulling herself to her feet to the exclamations of surprise of the crowd, Rylie, and even Tarquin, who said, “Hm, no matter, you are still down a weapon and in bad shape.”

    In response, Orianna pulled out an identical blade seemingly out of nowhere, or at the least no one was able to see where it was pulled from before it rested at her side. “You’re not the only one with hidden tricks,” Orianna said, “I’m going to enjoy this one.”

    Tarquin huffed, and began to prepare another curse to hinder Orianna. She knew what was coming though, and did not allow him the time. Opening with a quick slice precisely along the wrist of her opponent, the spell dissipated as the pain took hold, followed by a diagonal slash against the lips to make it so getting out the words needed to heal was more difficult.

    No time was left for Tarquin to even feel fear, as once Orianna had ensured no spells would interrupt her barrage, she began repeated, focused, precise attacks against the left elbow of her opponent. 

    The first hit completely shredded his robes and left a deep gash on top of that.

    The second hit right to the joint, exposing the space between the bones

    The third and final hit cleaved effortlessly through that space, severing the arm and rendering Tarquin unconscious.

    Silence fell amongst the crowd, aside from Rylie snapping her fingers down to the side to get some extra healers into the pit, carrying out both Tarquin and his amputated appendage, hoping to stabilise him and reattach the arm without too many complications.

    “Well,” Rylie said, sounding almost out of breath, “it ended in a more brutal way than I expected, but it also proved why she’s the best around these parts. Friends and foes, give it up for tonight’s champion, ORIANNA DU FIOR!”

    Cheers and applause rippled across the crowd as Orianna was helped out of the pit by another healer, gently tending to her wounds as she was brought up to Rylie, who was holding a trophy, the champion’s purse, and a sizable bottle of white wine.

    “Was worried there for a moment sweetie,” Rylie said, rubbing Orianna’s arm gently, “it really looked like he was going to take you out.”

    Orianna flushed red as this gorgeous tiefling fussed over her in a caring manner, struggling to get her words out as she said, “I… uh… bah… rah… wah… yeah… I h-hope he isn’t too hurt…”

    “Ehh, I wouldn’t worry about it. My healers are some of the best, plus a twat like that kind of deserved a beatdown. Had no right to taunt you that personally.”

    “Yeah that is sort of true he was kind of being a butt.”

    “I know you’ll likely wanna go home, but my sister Kylie is hosting a late one tonight if you wanna join me over there, maybe even get a few extra rounds in?”

    “I think it is most definitely home time for me I kind of wanna get a very long nap in.”

    “Cannot argue with that one,” Rylie said, leaning in to give Orianna a quick kiss on the cheek, “stay beautiful princess!”

    Rylie left the winnings at Orianna’s feet, smirking to herself as she heard the panicked, high-pitched noises of someone struggling to process that a cute girl just kissed them. Eventually though, she calmed down, picked up her prizes and left into the tranquility of the night to walk home.

    “Going to Kylie’s would have been fun but given everything that’s happened tonight… I’m really not in the headspace,” Orianna said as she walked slowly through the streets, feeling a reluctance to go back to a place which contained so many complex emotions right now: shattered memories, painful new perspectives, and better times now lost forever.

    She sighed deeply before continuing on her journey, before being stopped by a slightly tattered piece of parchment getting caught on her heel. “Oh gross gross gross!”, she exclaimed loudly as she put down her winnings to remove it, though she took pause once she saw the royal sigil of Bruenor Battlehammer on it.

    “King Bruenor Battlehammer… expedition into the Underdark… representatives from the-please get to the point this is so incredibly hard to read-ooo adventurers are required to take part in a trial that ranks their combat capability. That sounds like a lot of fun actually and all this Underdark stuff would give me a chance to get out of the house and think things through away from it all!”

    Picking her winnings back up, Orianna had a rejuvenated skip in her step. There was so much to consider, what weapons to bring along, what set of armour to use, what kind of outfit looks best in darker environments. She had an emotional minefield to navigate within her mind, but at least she could do it away from where it all happened and poke a lot of holes into demons for good measure.

    Inspiration

    So first off, this is tied for my longest work of fiction, Marieya’s Torment and this both clock in around the 5500 word mark. Though Torment could potentially end up longer as I do want to revisit that piece and bring it up to the standards I work to today… and fix the fact it was mostly written at 2am but that is a tangent of a tangent.

    This piece serves as the introduction to Orianna du Fior, one of my more recent characters created for the second half of an Out of the Abyss game. Mechanically, Orianna is ridiculous, which I do want to go into at some point but that will likely be its own piece focusing on how she is put together.

    In terms of character though, Orianna is a character who I designed to be both trans and lesbian from the outset. The trans aspect is covered briefly in the second flashback between her and her partner, asking how her name came about, whilst the lesbian aspect was highlighted when Rylie gave her a brief kiss.

    And believe me, “panicked high-pitched noises” is the simplest way I could think of to describe the utterly insane vocalisation I produce when roleplaying as Orianna and she gets flustered by something.

    A distinct character trait of Orianna you might have already picked up on is the fast she is a fast talker, and this is reflected in her dialogue. The main way this is conveyed is by the noticeable lack of commas present in anything she says, leading to her sentences flowing as one long block of text.

    Yes this is exhausting to roleplay especially as I am also having to come up with what she is saying on the fly, but honestly I would not change this characterisation for the world, she is such a fun character to embody.

    Though as with most of my characters, there is some tragedy to her, and for Orianna specifically, it is the breakdown of her relationship with her girlfriend Eirina. There are definitely some personal elements injected into how things broke down between them, and what pushed Eirina to finally leave for her own good.

    What makes Orianna interesting is that when presented with the consequences of her self-destructive behaviours she… continued to cope using those self-destructive behaviours, rather than taking the time to reflect on what she could have done differently.

    I definitely want Orianna to have to face herself a bit in the Underdark, and have her issues catch up with her one way or another to force her to address them. However that happens is not up to me, but I am interested to see how I can develop Orianna further down the line.

    As with most of my stories, I enjoyed writing this. Even the flashback scenes, emotionally taxing as they were, were also incredibly rewarding to use as a framing device to tell a prelude story.

  • Marieya’s Emancipation

    (Story word count: approximately 3500 words. Estimated reading time: 35 minutes. CW: loneliness, depression)

    The realm of steam conjured from the trials and tribulations of Marieya Ebontide had presented her friends with several challenges. Zombies reanimated by the power of the phoenix, malicious manifestations of fallen friends, and a nothic bringing memories once repressed to the forefront.

    Although the world around them tried to sell them an image of Marieya built from her worst experiences, the party refused to let this cloud their judgement of her, and soldiered onwards to save her from herself.

    After confronting a pack of edjet initiates, Seggotan sent his blessings towards the party, revitalising their energy with holy water and provided a longship to take them across the ocean towards the final trial of this world: Marieya herself.

    The party and the steam shade of Ancil boarded the boat, which began moving on its own into the infinite horizon. Despite this being an elemental plane with no real concept of day or night, the sun seemed to set, a dark starless sky setting the mood for the encounter ahead.

    Eventually, there was light ahead of the party. An island surrounded by burning trees, a twisted memory of Marieya’s incident in the clearing that set her on her current path, at the cost of the lives of her closest friends. Twisted vines and branches formed burning effigies of the homelands of her current friends.

    The Margreave, the Northlands, Zobeck. Forming the points of an equilateral triangle with a facsimile of Marieya’s old tent house in the Shadow Realm directly in the middle of them all, the shadow fey herself lying in front of it on a scorched and ashen log.

    Sensing the presence of her friends, she stood up, her wings flexing slightly as the phoenix spoke to her in her mind. “They are right there… kill them all… now! Give all you are to me and end your torment!

    “Shut up…”, Marieya said mentally in response. Being a realm under her control, Marieya had seen everything her friends have done. Honesty refuting the words of Steamforged Vantar, Fauna covering the intrusive thoughts with beautiful flowers, the party as a whole refusing the words of her own manifestation of Corvus. Despite all this, Marieya still knew she couldn’t risk anyone else’s life.

    “I… told you to leave me behind if anything went wrong,” she began, “something went wrong, and… you’re still here… why? Why are you still here?! After seeing everything I’ve done! Everything I’ve put you through! Why. Are. You. Still. Helping. Me?!”

    Tears formed in Marieya’s eyes as her burns glowed softly in response to her panic. Honesty stepped forward, and spoke as rationally as possible. “You’re family,” he said, “and we’re not leaving you behind.”

    “Family… family doesn’t treat people like I’ve treated you all! I’ve caused so much harm…” and Marieya turned her eyes towards Tu-ughrem Bloodrot, the Gnoll known as Grem, “and to you, Gnoll, someone who got caught up in this mess without my intention… I’m sorry, this was never your fight.”

    Grem shrugged, “Well, I’m here now,” he said, “may as well stick around and help.”

    Marieya started pacing back and forth, hands fidgeting rapidly as her breathing grew shallow. “Well you don’t need to stick around any longer,” she said, “I’m staying here. I can’t leave this place. I need to stay here to keep everyone safe. I’ll… I’ll think of something, I’ll get you out of here, it’s the least I can-”

    “How can you be so selfish?” Fauna said, interrupting the worried ramblings of her friend.

    “I… uh… huh?”

    “Selfish. That’s what you’re being right now. We’re here for you right now, and we’re going to bring you back whatever you say.”

    A swell of positive emotion rose within Marieya, but it was quickly quashed by the phoenix who reasserted control, blue eyes being replaced by blazing orange ones. “Oh no my dear alseid, this useless girl is very much trying to be selfless right now. I’m going to break out of this prison, I am going to raze this world, and I am going to very much enjoy killing you all-no! No, I am not going to kill anyone here!”

    “That’s why I can’t leave here. I… can’t control myself anymore. I can’t risk endangering any more lives… I’m sorry.”

    Whilst all this was going on, Honesty had been searching around in their backpack for their mess kit, taking the tin and emptying it out before tugging at Jørgen’s furs to get his attention, pointing to his waterskin and, upon receiving a confirmatory nod, filled the empty tin up with water.

    And then walked forward and threw it at Marieya.

    The tin hit into her head before clattering onto the ground. An awkward silence fell between the shadow fey and the rest of the party as everyone tried to process what just happened.

    “You’re still Marieya. Play with the water for me.” Honesty said.

    Looking down at the ground, Marieya saw the makeshift projectile at her feet, there was still some water inside it but some droplets had fallen onto her feet and ankles, providing a satisfying, cooling effect. 

    The sensation grounded Marieya back to herself, and using her own magical prowess she started shaping the water onto the ground into a winding, twisting, ribbon around her. Whatever smooth, wave-like motion her left hand made, the water followed, more of it being created as it tried to wrap around.

    Oh no, don’t think you are getting away with that sappy shit so easily!” Marieya’s mouth said without her input, as her right hand moved against her will to conjure an opposing ribbon of fire moving against the ribbon of water.

    Left hand produced more water, the right hand manifested more fire. The magical elemental strands curled tighter around Marieya’s body, coming close to touching each other but all of them approaching the shadow fey’s grey, burnt skin.

    “Look, I don’t know what’s gonna happen if I don’t get control back, but, I want you to know one thing.”

    “If you have to strike me down, or I burn out trying to wrestle back control, or everything turns to ash, I can assure one thing.”

    “Even if my soul stays broken, my memories of you all will remain intact.”

    Fire and water collided, producing an intense flash and a loud boom. When vision returned to the others, they saw before them a fire-infused water elemental, looking very agitated to have been summoned somewhere far from ideal for it, but inside the shifting, watery body of the elemental was a dark, humanoid shaped shadow. Marieya was inside the elemental, controlling its every move.

    Everyone stood in fear, not wanting to bring major harm to their friend, but also wanting to bring her back.

    Thinking about how to attack the elemental indirectly, Fauna focused all of her magical energy to bring forth rain clouds above the battle arena, focusing the full force of the rainfall on the elemental itself. The water of its body was unaffected but the fire parts hissed and steamed as the rain made contact with it, uttering a curse in Aquan.

    Realising the efficacy of this approach, the druid called upon primordial spirits to surround the elemental, weakening its resistance against further druidic magics.

    Further to this logic, Jørgen attempted to use an icy spell to weaken the effectiveness of any attacks the elemental wished to make. Whilst the ice seemed to take hold of the creature, it did not seem to phase them much, only small fragments remaining on their body.

    Honesty did not want to fight their friend, even if they were in control of an elemental body. Positioning himself in front of the party, he adopted a defensive stance with his rapier and dagger, unwilling to cause harm but equally unwilling to let harm come to his friends.

    The elemental roared, and began manifesting boiling hot water between their hands, it turning into steam and then condensing back into boiling water seemingly in equal measure, before expelling it at the party in a large, wide cone. Everyone managed to make it out of the way in time except Jørgen who utilised his arcane prowess to absorb some of the intense heat away from his body.

    Analysing the situation, the steam shade of Marieya’s closest friend, Ancil, turned to Grem and wordlessly pointed to the shoulders of the elemental before pointing at their respective swords. 

    Both warriors shared a nod before charging forward, weaving between each other until reaching their target, delivering brutal slashes with greatswords to the “joints” of the elemental’s arms. The forging of their weapons caused visible harm to the creature as their arms retracted inwards, Ancil delivering two quick follow up slashes before they fully receded.

    Seeing the elemental weaken from this assault, Honesty saw a moment to try something dangerous, something incredibly reckless, but something that might just work. Removing his coat and dropping his weapons, he walked forward towards this towering foe, and plunged both his arms inside its superheated body.

    The pain was intense, boiling water scalding scales as the kobold tried to find something to grab onto. Until finally, he felt the ankles of Marieya, suspended within the elemental, and grabbed on tight. “Please,” he thought to himself, “please come back to us.”

    The phoenix’s rage had consumed Marieya entirely whilst they had been in control of the elemental, spurring the fight onwards. That was until she felt Honesty’s touch, and various memories flooded into her mind.

    Accidentally shaking down a homeless shelter.

    Fighting desperately to save Vantar.

    Rushing over to give her a healing hug at Donnermark.

    And even now, Honesty put himself into harm’s way in an attempt to bring his friend back. The rage did not subside within Marieya, it was completely pushed back by the realisation that this humble kobold was willing to do whatever it takes.

    With that, Marieya burst forth out of the back of the elemental, using her wings to raise herself above the ground and looking down at her friends, smiling fondly at Honesty.

    Having a pleasant flashback are we?” the phoenix spoke to Marieya in her mind, the rage only being held back for a moment before they were able to reassert itself, “you may have broken one plan, but I am not through with you yet!

    Orange eyes came back in full force as Marieya turned to the elemental, now free from internal control and looking to exact retribution against the one who summoned them. “Useless vessel,” the phoenix said as they glided forward and slammed their fist inside the elemental’s head, dissipating it instantly but using its body to forge a blade of rippling, boiling water.

    All of the party stood by, not wanting to be the first to harm Marieya now that she was outside of her elemental shell. Jørgen attempted to use a spell that attacked her mind rather than her body, but such magic was ineffective against something so driven by rage. 

    Fauna invoked druidic magic, conjuring forth a concentrated beam of moonlight in the hope that the phoenix was just a form that Marieya assumed, similar to a shapechanger. But whilst it did do some minor damage, it did nothing to return her to how she once was.

    The phoenix laughed, beginning to speak words of power and rage. Three small balls of fire began to orbit around them as each one seemed to start to form into a beam pointed at a different party member. Before they could fire though, Jørgen gave a swift slash of his arm, and the balls of fire turned into lumps of ice which then fell to the ground, shattering.

    You think a simple counterspell can stop my raw power?!” the phoenix said, turning their ire fully to the wizard, “witness the laws of magic bend to my fury!”. The burns on Marieya’s body glowed with intensity as the phoenix almost seemed to groan in pain as a bolt of fire manifested quicker than anyone else could react.

    Whilst their attention was diverted elsewhere, Ancil conjured up a projectile made of ice and threw it towards the phoenix. Focus being elsewhere did not seem to make their reactions any less effective, as the projectile missed and the resulting explosion failed to make contact as well.

    With his touch having been effective and Marieya now able to hear his voice, Honesty attempted to reason verbally with his friend.

    “Marieya… come home, please,” he said, “don’t die right after we’ve come into possession of a keep”. Grem turned to the rest of the party as he said this, a raised eyebrow asking for confirmation if this is true, nods being returned. “You can end this now, and you can come home with us and rest for as long as you need to. We’ll be here. I promise.”

    A warm smile crossed Marieya’s faced, eyes rapidly shifting between blue and orange as she struggled to bring the phoenix within her back under control. “NO!”, the phoenix said within her mind as it felt its influence begin to wane, “I am so close to freedom! I will not let you do this to me again!”.

    Using all of her mental strength to push those thoughts out of her mind, Marieya had regained enough control to allow herself to divebomb right into the ground in the middle of the party, watery blade landing to the side, laying her body as flat as possible to allow her friends to restrain her and put a stop to things non-lethally.

    Honesty came over and held her tight, infusing her with divine energy in the hope of it bringing her further back to reality. Jørgen took out rope to restrain her arms in the hope that the phoenix could no longer perform the hand motions of magic. Fauna used her magic to destroy the sword Marieya was carrying. And Grem stood guard, sword at the ready in case things went wrong.

    Fine… I may not be able to escape this realm, but I can at least take you with me!

    The burns all around Marieya’s back glowed brighter than they ever have previously, before erupting into flames as the phoenix soul burst forth from her body. The entire world seemed to shake as a loud caw echoed through the air, attempting to kill everyone currently in the demiplane of steam as a desperate last action.

    Instinctively, Marieya created a protective bubble of steam around her friends who were keeping guard over. Despite the fact this steam was producing a fair amount of heat, for the first time in her life, Marieya was cold. The phoenix soul had caused her so many issues, but through every moment in her life it provided her a constant, almost comforting warmth.

    But now that was gone, and although she was surrounded by friends, she had never felt more alone.

    “I… I’m sorry…” she said, sobbing softly into the soil beneath them, “I d-don’t know if I can stop this,” her unrestrained wings wrapped around her shivering body, holding her in an attempt to bring her temperature back up, “I never meant for any of this to happen… and now I have no idea what to do anymore…”

    “You just need to keep going,” Honesty said, “because you don’t have to be alone anymore.”

    “I was very deliberate with my flowers Marieya,” Fauna said, “some are dangerous if not treated with respect, but in the end all of them are as beautiful as I see you.”

    “And don’t give me any of that rubbish about thinking less of you,” Jørgen said, “you should know by now that someone rational will never think less of you for battling struggles.”

    The ropes binding Marieya were slashed open by Grem in a gesture of good faith, who gave an affirming nod. “Thank you,” Marieya said, flexing her wings as the bubble of steam began to dissipate, “this was not your fight, but I’m making sure you get back home!”

    With a mighty flap and an incredibly strong leap, Marieya flew into the air after the phoenix soul trying to collapse the realm, reaching them in no time at all and getting its attention by scraping an arm arcing with lightning across their spine. The fiery bird turned to Marieya who had her arms raised in a position inviting confrontation.

    To which the phoenix responded in turn, exhaling a cone of pure elemental fire. This was matched by Marieya, who extended out a hand and expelled a cone of icy energy, the two attacks cancelling each other out.

    This triggered an intense aerial battle between the two powerful forces of magic, each of them flying close to each other trading spells with increasing ferocity, every new burst of magic prompting an escalation by the other. Each side perfectly matched in both casting prowess and airborne acrobatics, neither allowing the other to get a clear shot at the other.

    Eventually a spell forced them a significant distance apart, staring each other down before accelerating at a rapid rate between each other. When the onlookers thought they were going to collide they instead banked slightly in opposing directions before spiralling around each other, ascending higher into the air.

    Each turn brought them closer together until the two finally collided, a massive solar flare like explosion coming from their contact point and obscuring them from the party.

    The two sides of Marieya had recombined, and the young shadow fey came face to face with the manifestation of the phoenix soul merged with her regrets and depression. “Do you think this means anything?!” it said to her, pacing aggressively in front of her, “you have succeeded in locking me back into your body once more but that does not save you!

    They pulled down their hood, revealing a mirror image of Marieya with several glowing orange cracks permeating their ashen skin, orange eyes with flames inside the pupils, and a permanent rage-filled expression. “I will always be a part of who you are!

    “You will always be a part of me,” Marieya said, approaching the phoenix and getting extremely close to them… before pulling them into a hug, “and I forgive you.”

    You… what?”, the phoenix said, incredibly confused at this turn of events.

    “You are my warmth, a part of my soul forever. And I have hated you for far too long now… I don’t want to fear you any more, I want to embrace you.”

    But… you are a monster! A fire starter! A murderer! How can you stand to live with yourself like this?

    “Because I’m not any of those things. I have made a lot of mistakes, mistakes that I will live with forever… but I can’t hate myself for these mistakes anymore.”

    The hug tightened between the two halves of Marieya. “And I can’t hate you for whatever I see as your part in those mistakes”. The phoenix then paused for a moment, before slowly reciprocating the hug with Marieya, a soft blue glow encompassing them both.

    The glow increased in intensity. As it did the phoenix began slowly merging back into Marieya, the warmth that had kept Marieya company all her life was with her once more, though this time it came with an inner peace that she had not experienced in a long time. Her appearance had returned to normal as well, no longer carrying feathered wings, she was back to how she always was.

    She turned around and saw the three steam shades of her friends. Summoned into the realm to aid the friends she had now, she gave a slight bow to them and said, “…I know I’ll never get to say sorry properly, and I know you’re just figments of my imagi–”

    “Oh shut the fuck up you brooding bitch,” Izumi said, “you can move on from us now. You got more important shit to worry about you daft twat!”

    Vardal shook his head, but couldn’t find the words to add to that statement, so followed it up by saying, “what Izumi said but with less cursing”.

    And Ancil merely smiled at Marieya, before all three of them faded into the steam once more.

    Slowly shrinking down, the solar flare retracted into Marieya and she floated back down to the ground, able to look upon her true friends with clear eyes again.

    “I have chosen my champion well,” a booming voice emanated throughout the realm, the voice of Seggotan, “and thank you, brave adventurers, for bringing her soul back… in more ways than one.”

    A pool of crystal clear blue water formed behind Marieya. “Leave this place, before it collapses in on itself,” Seggotan said, as the party jumped one-by-one into the pool, speaking again before Marieya was the last to go in, “be warned Marieya Ebontide, you might have my favour but you have still failed in your initial quest. The challenges ahead present great danger to the mortal realm, but I now know my faith in you and your friends is not misplaced.”

    Marieya smiled to herself, muttering a prayer under her breath, ending it with a characteristically casual, “thanks dude, see you later”, before jumping into the pool acting as a connection to the mortal realm, allowing her to return to Midgard, complete again.

    Inspiration

    This… is probably the piece of writing I can comfortably say is the hardest one I have ever had to write. Not only for it being the longest piece of fiction I have written in a long time but also for it coming after one of the most emotionally taxing D&D sessions I have ever been a part of.

    So, as explained in Marieya’s Refusal, Marieya died. And the resurrection quest to bring her back was jointly designed by myself and my DM, with us taking equal responsibility in running things. However, it was decided that I would be running the majority of the final “arc” in the quest, which led to having to be a DM, controlling Marieya fighting against her own friends.

    I definitely want to follow up this story with how I designed things, and why certain things were chosen, but I do want to get into what this was like emotionally for me.

    In short: soul-wracking.

    In much longer: playing Marieya for this session involved digging down into my own psyche and calling upon vulnerabilities I have not exposed in a long time. When I was acting out the dialogue for Marieya I was constantly on the verge of tears due to the emotions I was calling upon, which translated into what I hope was genuine dialogue of someone terrified of who they are right now.

    Loneliness tends to be a theme that comes with most of the D&D characters I write. Marieya’s specific brand of loneliness is the struggle to accept that she does have people around her who understand her, who know that she has done not great things in the past but view her more as who she is now as opposed to going off who she said she was, and as Honesty says, “she doesn’t have to be alone anymore”.

    I am very glad that the encounter ended up more social than combat focused. Although that prompted me having to think about how to handle player’s reactions to what was presented, I think it made for a more compelling scene overall as none of the party really wanted to fight Marieya, they just wanted to bring her back.

    The title is a twofold reference, the obvious one being is that this is Marieya gaining emancipation from her past and from this realm she created, but it also refers to the music I was initially going to use for the first two phases of the fight: Emancipation from Ace Combat 4, though I eventually decided against it for a handful of reasons that’ll be explained in the design write up.

    For now though, I hope you enjoyed reading this. I put a lot of emotion into this piece, and I like how it turned out.

  • Marieya’s Refusal

    Where… where am I?

    I remember Hollatrax growling with rage at not being able to shrink down into the temple, and they let out a massive cone of freezing cold breath. Priscilla reverted to her staff form, Jørgen was knocked unconscious and I…

    …oh.

    So… I’m dead? Properly dead I guess, cause I can’t feel any fire in or around me right now. I guess that breath was so cold that not even the eternal flames could bring me back.

    I can see more around me now, I’m floating. Floating amongst an ocean of stars in a deep, dark blue sky. The only thing holding steady being a single, silvery thread.

    There are others here too, perhaps other souls destined to whatever afterlife awaits them, similarly attached to threads. The threads lead into these rifts that crack open the immaculate colour of the sky, and slowly, one by one, they are pulled into rifts which close back up to repair the sky.

    A rift opens before me, and the thread begins pulling me towards it. I see… the forest where I lived. My old battered tent house. The river where I fished for food. I’m going home, and maybe I can finally apologise to everyone.

    Wait.

    No… don’t! Please!

    The thread snaps, and the rift closes itself up without me in it.

    I’m falling.

    Falling through an infinite blue void.

    Until a thread grabs me. Not silver this time, but a light blue, almost cyan. A rift opens up at the end of the thread, revealing what is on the other side.

    It’s a vast underwater reef, similar to the one where Seggotan came to me in the vision that brought me to this place. I hear his voice, albeit faintly.

    “It is not yet your time, young one.”

    Even here, his voice soothes me.

    “And I am not disappointed in you. You showed great courage and initiative in approaching the temple. The trials ahead may be daunting, but you are a devoted follower. I shall do all I can to return you to the mortal plane.”

    The fatherly voice of the dragon god combined with the serene underwater setting put me at ease, as I prepared myself to be pulled into what seemed like limbo.

    Until another thread grabbed me. This time a deep, burning, orange.

    “Not yet. I’m not done with you yet.”

    Oh no.

    Oh shit.

    At the end of the orange thread there was another rift, this one providing an image of places burning.

    The Margreave.

    The Northlands.

    Zobeck.

    “Not even death can truly stop a phoenix, and now… your body is all mine for the taking.”

    Both threads began pulling at once. A god of waves against a manifestation of fire. One looking to keep the world intact, another wishing for it to just burn away to ash.

    It started to hurt, as both forces did not want to back down, I was stuck in a tug of war between who I want to be and who I want to stop becoming.

    The rifts… the rifts are getting closer!

    Oh god, what’s going to happen?

    I’m trying to be pulled into limbo and rebirth simultaneously.

    I don’t want to die!

    I don’t want to be a feared phoenix!

    I don’t-

    There was a blinding flash of light as the rifts collided upon Marieya, enveloping her entirely. The divine power of Seggotan and the limitless sorcerous potential of the phoenix merged into one, bringing into life a demiplane of steam. One that was born from the stresses and trials of the young shadow fey, the environment shaping itself as such. And in a clearing deep within the demiplane itself, she was about to reawaken…

    My head is throbbing… and my body is burning all over. What happened when those rifts collided?

    Around me I see visages of trees… the forest that I burnt down.

    My hands… my hands have talons on the nails, blackened like the phoenix’s claws. The burns on my body glow faintly with power as wings appear as a fiery visage behind me.

    In my refusal to die I’ve become what I feared most. But… I’ve also trapped myself somewhere where I can’t hurt anyone.

    I’m… angry.

    A burning rage fills my chest as I feel my body lash out with various fiery spells, the environment shifting and twisting as the unchained magic within me takes control.

    The phoenix wants to be free.

    I can’t let it leave this place.

    For everyone’s sake.

    Inspiration

    So… Marieya died.

    Just straight up died.

    And to be honest, it isn’t really anyone’s fault here. I just got unlucky with how some damage was rolled.

    It was definitely stressful in the moment, as the realisation hits that a character you have cultivated for over a year has died in game.

    Not going to last, as this whole demiplane of steam is going to act as a massive stage for a resurrection quest with this acting as my first sort of DM experience as I will be co-DMing the quest, taking control of helper NPCs and eventually the final confrontation with Marieya herself.

    This is only a short story, about 750 words, but I’m hoping it helps me get some momentum back. Despite this story being born of an unfortunate occurrence, this felt good to write.

  • “It’s a reawakening”: Marieya’s Sorcerous Progression

    Why is this here? Because I love bretticus.llewellyn.art (Instagram) and if I can’t pay him I’m giving him as much exposure as I can

    Marieya is only 2710XP away from her next level up, meaning it came time for me to make a recurring decision now that her sorcerous nature is (mostly) in the open: do I continue speccing her into Cleric, and get my Level 6 domain feature on this level up? Or do I finally let part of her power reawaken properly as she gains access to a whole new world of spells.

    Well, given some events that have happened in the campaign, I think now is the right time for her to realise that suppressing this power is no longer an option.

    Background

    So, these events are supposed to be Marieya stories, hence why they will only be covered in minor detail here as opposed to doing a more in-depth look at why these events have lead to this conclusion:

    • Meeting a fellow Shadow Fey who knew of the incident involving Marieya’s magic, and an out-of-game discussion with her leading to some level of acceptance
    • A Wind Dragon sent by Corvus ambushing the party, making Marieya realise that her divergence from the Mharoti path means dragons will be somewhat common in her path now

    Beginning on her path to forgive herself properly and knowing that her new friends are in danger means she feels less apprehension at utilising her innate power, but also means she will be utilising it in a way more befitting of her personality post-incident, reflected in the choice of spells/cantrips.

    Subclass

    The subclass is the only aspect of this multiclassing that did not require much thought put into it, as it has been well established in stories that Marieya is a “Phoenix Soul” Sorcerer.

    This version of Phoenix Soul is specifically from the “Sorcerer, Tweaked” homebrew by SwordMeow. When I initially wrote “Marieya’s Screw Up” I actually did not have an origin in mind, as I never considered multiclassing out properly. This changed once my DM showed me this subclass and I read the flavour around it, especially the line of “If a fire breaks out in town, a phoenix sorcerer had best flee, whether guilty or not.”

    At 1st level, Marieya would be getting two subclass features and potentially an origin spell depending on how my DM wants to handle using this homebrew.

    Ignite is something that Marieya will not be using often, as not only does she feel it is a disaster waiting to happen, she has too much love and respect for Seggotan to go around starting fires with just a touch of her hand. It will definitely find some use during the campaign, but it will likely sit as a backburner feature… pun moderately intended.

    Phoenix Mantle is a similar use case as well, as Marieya will only have a small number of spells that deal fire damage. That said, I do have a couple of roleplay based ideas with how to utilise this feature, perhaps combined with Thaumaturgy for a terrifying display of power combining both the divine and the innate as the normally reserved shadow fey spreads wings of fire wide as her voice booms out to her foes.

    As for the origin spell, having Burning Hands as a spell that does not count towards the maximum number of spells known would be nice, but even then it would see very little use due to wanting to keep Marieya’s usage of fire down to a minimum. And as will be shown in the next section, the spells selected are more versatile than that.

    Spells

    Being able to only pick two 1st level spells certainly made deciding what to pick a bit difficult. Going into this I wanted to pick up something good for defense, and something good for offense, with a good payoff if I decide to upcast it using the higher level spell slots earned from being so far into Cleric.

    Shield was my first thought for something defensive, as it is a universally useful spell that would bump Marieya up to an AC of 24 in response to a melee attack, making her incredibly difficult to hit and extending her longevity even further.

    However, when considering the nature of dragons, one of their main offensive options are their breath weapons, which are usually elemental in nature and which force a saving throw of some kind, which Shield would not be helpful against. Taking this into account, it is more thematic for the defensive spell to be Absorb Elements.

    Triggering in a similar manner to Shield, Absorb Elements would make Marieya more likely to stay standing if she failed a save against a breath weapon, or to shrug it off better if she passed the save. The extra damage on the next turn’s melee attack is appreciated but ultimately inconsequential when considering other offensive options.

    As for the offensive spell itself, Chaos Bolt was considered and dropped pretty quickly. Whilst it is a Sorcerer exclusive spell and upcasts quite well, the random elemental nature of the attack makes it ill-suited for fighting dragons, as an attack could roll into the element the dragon is immune to thereby wasting a turn.

    The ever reliable Magic Missile was considered for longer, especially as its long range and guaranteed hit would allow for nailing fleeing dragons without having to worry about how low Marieya’s spellcasting modifier is.

    In the end though, I went for something that I felt had good upcast ability and provided versatility against the potential of elemental resistance/immunity that dragons carry: Chromatic Orb.

    Whilst Marieya’s Charisma is nowhere near where it should be for a casting class, a +5 to hit is not the worst modifier to have, especially in situations where advantage can be applied. The option to select what type of damage the orb is dealing gives greater control than Chaos Bolt, and upcasting something with a d8 damage die is nothing to sneer about.

    Cantrips

    Picking two spells presented a set of challenges, picking four cantrips presented an entirely different set of challenges, especially as the cantrip list for sorcerers is almost three times as long as the list for clerics, providing a lot of choices to pick from.

    One that was fairly easy to pick was Shape Water, given Marieya is now a cleric of the water god Seggotan, it made sense that she would be using her innate magical power to be doing something more aligned with her god. Shape Water itself seems a very useful cantrip, especially as the option to freeze water (without creatures in it) opens up a lot of alternate avenues to problem solving.

    Next came a pick that was influenced by equal parts mechanical and flavour applications, Mind Sliver. Mechanically, Mind Sliver is a great cantrip. It has good damage output, inflicts a debuff that can make or break the result of an enemy saving throw, and is a damage type that is infrequently resisted (psychic). 

    In terms of flavour though, this is Marieya attempting to inflict fear upon draconic foes. As time passes and more dragons sent by Corvus are defeated, it is logical that the Mharoti are going to get nervous about how powerful Marieya is, leading to the psychic spike from Mind Sliver being a literal bolt of fear against a dragon, playing to their uncertainty if they will survive an encounter with this humble shadow fey.

    Ray of Frost seems like an odd choice compared to Frostbite, but given the low DC that Marieya’s sorcerer spells will be working with and the fact that Constitution saves on higher CR monsters are quite difficult to win, the ranged attack roll won out. The speed reduction effect will also help against dragons, as it means they will not be able to move as far away when doing a hit-and-run attack.

    And finally, a fairly basic spell in the form of Fire Bolt. It is there solely for flavour on Marieya’s origin, but it is a long range cantrip with an impressive d10 damage dice.

    Future plans

    This just covers what Marieya is going to look like as a 1st level sorcerer multiclass, so what rough plans do I have for her progressing as a sorcerer?

    Right now it feels like I will be putting my focus back onto cleric, especially as I want to unlock the rest of my domain spells before deciding on how I might want to progress as a sorcerer.

    That said, it is looking quite likely that my 8th cleric level feat will be “Metamagic Adept”, to further reflect Marieya’s power reawakening. “Distant Spell” is going to be a must-take in my opinion, as it will be invaluable in long range conflicts. “Quickened Spell” is also fairly high up on the priority list, as the ability to cast a spell as a bonus action leaving an action free to Dash to cover/to spread out seems useful.

    In any case, Marieya now knows she can use her power for good, and protecting her friends from the wrath of dragons is a worthy cause to break out of her self-imposed restraint.

  • Ballistics Research Entry 04100321 (A Blaze Story)

    “Situations prompting use of incendiary explosives have been… few and far between,” Blaze said to themselves as they removed the detonator from the aforementioned device, “whilst others may not respect the artistic effort put into these devices, it may be worth deploying a new prototype.”

    Whilst the rest of the party slept, being a vect meant all they needed was a four hour recharge period, Blaze was tending to their research notes and bombs, working on preparing new payloads for all sorts of different scenarios.

    “If conventional fire-based methods are out of the question, then maybe…”

    Copying the written formula for the incendiary bomb, they started changing different values on the flammable compounds, adjusting the strength of the detonation spark that would have  ignited the previously used material but would struggle to ignite this less viscous concoction, instead needing a more direct application of heat and/or explosive force.

    Pasting this new data into a simulation application on their datapad revealed the results of this breakthrough. The new bomb would disperse a light, flammable oil in the same radius that the previous bomb did, unable to cause any direct damage but enhancing any abilities or weapons that use fire as their primary damage method.

    “Well, that’s the issue of direct incendiaries out of the way, but… there’s more potential in the base device, I know it.”

    Switching back over to the original explosive, Blaze ran a simulation and watched carefully how the fire interacted around foes hiding in cover. Although the fire was able to eventually spread across the cover if it was flammable, the main reagent was unable to go past any obstacles.

    “So, if I take the primary detonation method, and then add… pellets…”

    Leaning over some alchemy supplies and reading instructions off their datapad, they were able to synthesise a large number of rubber pellets, bouncy enough to ricochet around any obstacles but still hard enough to deliver concussive force strong enough to render foes unconscious.

    “Anita does always say there is no profit in murder.”

    And as if on cue, Anita Grimm herself appeared. A Cabal field agent with aspirations of semi-freelance soul brokering, she was often the one needing to clean up the social messes that the others had got themselves into, using her much sharper wit to diffuse situations and work others to her advantage. “Oh, you’re still up?” she said, her tone indicating an initially restless start to her own sleep.

    “If I have no need of sleep other than my recharge period, I may as well advance my research,” Blaze said in response, finishing off the simulations of the new rubber pellet bomb, “if you need a pick-me-up there’s a couple cans of Krash in my toolkit.”

    The investigator stared at the vect in shock, wondering how this sociopathic demolitionist had survived so long in the universe, “you keep… energy drink… next to your bomb materials?”

    “Correct, do not worry yourself though, I have only had one accident where I used Krash instead of a reagent, and all that happened was a smell of burning sugar alongside some wasted Krash.”

    “But… but…” Anita said, becoming more incredulous at the situation, “you’re a Vect! You don’t need to eat or drink! Why do you drink so much Krash?”

    “Remnant of a past job,” Blaze said, reaching and cracking open another can, “I used to be the sales representative to the Avia-Ra Holy Lands when the Krash company was expanding into that territory.”

    There was a pause.

    “It didn’t go well, and I was let go from the company. Before I left though they allowed me to take as much Krash as I wanted as part of my severance package.”

    Anita sighed deeply, before asking a question she knew she was going to regret. “And how much of that Krash do you have left?”

    There was another pause.

    “Approximately three-hundred-thousand-and-forty-two cans in multiple safehouses and hidden caches across the ‘Verse.”

    A long silence hung between the vect and the human, with the latter completely failing to process both the implications of a construct lifeform getting addicted to a mass-produced energy drink, and the logistics of storing that much energy drink across such a wide area. Blaze continued to work on their final new bomb prototype as a novel idea entered into Anita’s mind.

    Consulting her grimoire of rituals she flipped pages until she reached the arcane process of protecting technology: the antivirus spell. Muttering quickly to herself the words of power and weaving sigils in the air gently until the spell was complete, a faint shroud of binary surrounding Blaze for a brief moment.

    They stopped their work, staring into their toolkit for a moment, contemplating how much Krash they had drunk over the years and how unhealthy a habit it was. There was a lot for Blaze to think about… 

    …and they decided to mull these things over with a can of Krash.

    Realising that her potential fix had backfired on her spectacularly, Anita sighed before retiring to another part of the ship to finish her infernal paperwork. Meanwhile, the moment of pause had given Blaze inspiration for a prototype.

    “Krash is a container of energy, where the metabolic process dispenses this energy over a period of time. If I take this theory and apply it to this…”

    Opening up a piece of design software on their datapad, Blaze began going through iterative designs of a capacitor that could be integrated into the detonation mechanism of a bomb, eventually being able to plug this new electrical explosive into the simulation program, revealing the added benefit of the electric discharge numbing the reaction times of any potential foes.

    “New bomb designs complete, will fabricate two potions in case of emergency and then I shall retire with the new combat simulation running.”

    Unlike the scientific process Blaze uses to develop new bombs, the process for creating potions was remarkably simple and only took about twenty minutes all told to complete the brewing.

    Packing away their equipment neatly, they then sat comfortably in their chair and entered into the powered down recharge state, leaving enough power to be aware of the surroundings and to run the combat simulation program. Over the course of four hours the program ran until the in-built criteria were met, and Blaze was comfortable with the weapons training they had received.

    “I may have had to temporarily retire the incendiary device… but no one has yet forbade me from using a plasma launcher…”

    Inspiration

    Blaze recently reached level four in the campaign they are played in (unrelated, this is why the entry number is what it is, 04 for level, 10/03/21 being the date of the session) and this unlocked a lot of great potential for the mad bomber.

    Blaze is an Alchemist, which means at level 4 in addition to getting their first Ability Score Improvement they also gain access to the unique mechanic of “Discoveries”. Think of them like Eldritch Invocations for an Intelligence-based class, and you unlock two of your choice at level four.

    I knew for definite I wanted to get the “Battle Training” discovery (martial weapon and shield proficiency) right away, not so much for shields, but for all the cool martial weapons that are contained within the Dark Matter book. Picking the second discovery was a bit more difficult, as I originally had my heart set on “Grenadier”, which allows for a bonus action weapon attack if your main action was throwing a bomb.

    But, as I looked both through the discovery list and the bomb formulae list, I started to realise I could start to build Blaze towards being a multipurpose character for the time being, and using a greater variety of bombs would allow for this versatility. So, I ended up taking the “Ballistics Research” discovery, which grants me two additional bomb formulae, and gave me the first part of my title.

    The other major aspect of this story is adding detail into why Blaze, a Vect with no need to eat or drink, has an addiction to the Dark Matter energy drink called Krash. Initially I started this as a joke with one of Blaze’s many past jobs being an energy drink sales representative, though I eventually went into it a bit more with them drinking it whenever they are idle or needing to work. 

    And because Blaze is where I roleplay someone a bit more ridiculous, the joke about having these caches of energy drink hidden all over the place came naturally.

    Anita did indeed try to cast Antivirus on Blaze in effort to alleviate their energy drink problem, but, it is far too ingrained into the ideal that is Blaze to ever be solved so simply.

  • Marieya’s Companions

    Marieya and the party enter into the sewers beneath Donnermark, pursuing the restless dead who were carrying corpses in service of some unknown master…

    Oh gross don’t step in that! Oh bugger this place is rank and smells like undead. I mean… this is one of the best places for my magic to work well but that can’t stop the smell these guys give off!

    At least Fauna is in her ostrich form which makes it easier for her to get down into the sewers. Being a druid does have some perks I suppose, especially as her normal form would really struggle using that ladder. Having hooves and being shaped like she is could lead to some accidents climbing down it.

    I do appreciate having her around though, aside from not taking too kindly to the jokes I make about her supposed blueberry addiction she’s very friendly. Definitely understanding of various things within the party, can heal others if I’m struggling with the task or otherwise bogged down, and her animal forms can be deadly.

    Jørgen on the other hand…

    Don’t get me wrong, I love this new found family I have come across but out of all of them he’s the one I understand the least. He does a lot of the talking for us, despite being somewhat antisocial in other scenarios, and his sense of urgency definitely runs on a part-time basis, usually only existing if one of us is in real danger or if he wants to cast a stupid powerful spell.

    Which is usually just Fireball. Like I know it is one of the best spells a wizard-in-training can get but… it still doesn’t get any easier seeing that explosion again, especially so soon after everyone has seen my phoenix powers.

    The newest member to this little group is called Nanukapik. Initially, I was crapping myself when I saw them, y’know on the whole basis of “bearfolk normally want to eat my ripe liver for brunch”, until I saw him and Jørgen talking, sharing stories of the Northlands, leading me to realise he probably wouldn’t irrationally want to kill me.

    Good thing, considering he looks like he could cave my head in without much effort. Not only is a war pick something insanely scary to come up against, he looks the pinnacle of strength, able to effortlessly lift, pull, drag, and fight anything that gets in his way. Hopefully this story of his being a “folk hero” holds up.

    He was taking up the vanguard position, whereas in the rearguard, like usual, was our disaster kobold, Honesty.

    Okay, calling him a disaster is a little rude, especially considering we’ve both got into our fair share of trouble together over the past months. And kinda insensitive given what happened recently. I can’t fault his effectiveness in combat though, able to surprise even the wittiest foes with devastating attacks.

    But… yeah, I worry about him. A lot. Losing Vantar was hard on us all, though the rest of us had only known him for a fleeting moment. Honesty had to watch as his lifelong friend died in his arms for a second time. Due to the nature of soul gems I don’t exactly know when he “died”, but the crack in the soul gem combined with the dullness told us everything. 

    I wish I comforted him more, but obviously not everyone wants to hear platitudes from someone who killed their closest friends… I miss them every day…

    Snap out of it Marieya, that doesn’t matter right now. Right now, we need to clear out this crap tunnel of the undead, find out what’s causing this all, then move onto helping Fauna and others.

    Then, finally, I have my vision from Seggotan. A personal quest from my father beneath the waves to go to Lake Phandar and seek out a female descendant of his turned heretic. Defeating her will prove my loyalty and award me with an item of great power known as the “Staff of Origin”.

    I have no idea what to expect, what trials I may face, but I’m at least glad Seggotan consistently used female pronouns to describe this individual. This means that no matter what comes to face me, I don’t have to see Corvus again!

    I hope.

    Inspiration

    As Rosalia realises it has taken her this long to formally introduce the party of the Midgard campaign she plays in, but considering we had a new member join, figured it was the best time.

    With this as well I definitely wanted the main story to focus on how Marieya herself sees her friends and what she thinks of them, hence the first person perspective this time around and writing the story with her mannerisms in mind.

    As for the party themselves, I’ll give a quick summary here:

    • Jørgen, our antisocial wizard with a spellbook that lets them change the damage type of their spells
    • Fauna, a friendly druid with amazing wild shape forms and formidable spells
    • Honesty, a rogue/paladin with a particular strong sales technique
    • And Nanukapik, a warden and our primary tank (dude has 51 hitpoints)

    Bit of a shorter article generally really, but it’s nice to do some condensed ones now and again.