Jade Regent IC

Grüt grabs the sling and looks down at it. He had only seen it used in action when fighting the goblins.. It didn't seem too hard. Grüt had already downed a few drinks by this point. It sounded like a great idea. "Okay, Radius. Grüt go try and catch something." Grüt yells a mumbled jumbled strand of words towards Ameiko and Shalelu as he storms out of the bar, confident he will catch an amazing prize!

Wood scrapped on wood as Elion kneed a spare chair in place to hold fast his unhinged door. Elion's room was on the second floor, towards the center. Since it didn't connect with any of the outer walls, it featured zero windows. It had no torches nor lanterns, for fear of fire. The resulting blackness was easy on Elion's drow eyes. He liked the way it was hostile to those others who wished to enter, although he would cast dancing lights whenever Koya (or mom, rather) wanted to go through his studies with him.

Elion double-checked to ensure the door was secure. It had been cruel of Grüt to barge in, Elion had felt frightened and invaded. Everyone else seemed okay with it though, so it must be alright. Once he was satisfied with the entryway, Elion moved across his room. He pushed past rows of suspended potted plants. He had hung them with chain link awhile back; now each one of them was somewhere between dead and dying. Their stems were useful only if wilted. After he reached his bed, Elion leaned his bottom upon the baseboard and hunched over his shoulders.

A trail of destruction spewed from the trunk at Elion's feet, ending near the door. Trist's, one of the Koya's household children, handiwork. Her halfling body had looked hilariously cute in his dark velvet robe. It was better she had it anyway, since he would have had to pack it otherwise. The mess was okay too; Elion needed to reorganize so he could fit more into his trunk. He'd want his traveling clothes for the trip, but they could use a wash given the past few days. Swamp muck permeated his vest, so he removed it along with the rest of his clothes. He piled them up at the edge of the room, then paused for a moment. He wore nothing but his scarf and a handkerchief tied barely above his left elbow.

A lot of people were home. Elion found his drab browns scattered on the floor and donned them. He disliked their dullness, but they were nice because it didn't matter if they got ruined. Trist's and Koya's idea of adventure usually involved things dying, which could get messy. With that in mind Elion squeezed his old dagger together with his azure scholar's garments, so that he would have a spare. He'd been helpful during Trist's treasure hunts, right? All he really did was reload Damien's rifle, though. Maybe there was more he could do, something he was forgetting.

Elion skimmed over his bookshelves. He would have to leave most of them, but refused to part with all of them. Varisian Wars, Poisonous Greens: a Ranger's Guide, Empty Skies, Tigress (a Tian fairy tale), The Ravenous Skeleton Prince; wait, that last probably wouldn't be useful. Elion put it back. He grabbed what few tomes on witchcraft he'd managed to acquire over the years and placed them in the trunk with his selections from the bookcase. There wasn't a whole lot of space left, at least not enough for all his clothes. He removed everything but the books, replacing it parchment. He covered it all with his best blanket, wrapped around a vial of ink and some oils. It pained him to do so, but he put his best outfit in a sack with dried frog legs, wilted stems, and black cat hairs.

His "adventure" gear he laid out parallel to the trunk: the new dagger, two flasks, scrolls, healer's kits, and a water skin. This was all he would take. Everything else would stay. Elion feared there might not be a return. Koya was desperate of late to go on a long journey, always pushing him to "make friends." It hadn't always been that way. Elion unwrapped his scarf from his neck so he could tuck it in the sack. A greensting scorpion fell to the floorboards as the cloth was unfurled.

"Sorry Noro." Elion knelt and cupped his hands beneath his familiar, resting them in his lap. The scorpion was still in his hands, its claws relaxed. Elion lips curved up briefly; Noro was immensely worried. "Sorry you have to have an empathic link with me." Noro pinched at Elion's palms, but it was painless. "She just doesn't want to leave me alone. I don't care about that though." Elion's eyes began to water. "Why do humans and halflings die so fast?"

Even at night, finding a suitable place to practice witchcraft was a difficult task. Kalsgrad was easily the most massive city Elion had ever experienced; so massive that there was nearly always a night-goer in earshot. In the end Elion settled for a spot on the open green, not far from Sandru's caravan. Darkness would serve for cover, at least, as long as no one wandered to close.

"Baka tok sin sirclu--" no, that was wrong. Elion should, nay needed, to be able to do this without invoking the pact words. The dark arts were comparably verbose as far as magic disciplines went, and Elion couldn't afford babbling to maintain flight. He already ran words together to cast his spells (a vital witch skill), which could sound pretty hysterical when magic was resounding across his voice. The most pressing motivation, however, was Noro.

The greensting scorpion was seemingly resting on the broomstick in Elion's hands. It could hide it's balancing act well enough, but it could not hide its amusement. Noro always got like this whenever Elion was appealing for privilege and nearly had attained it. Usually it was only a simple trick between Elion and a favor from the patron. Of course Noro, Elion's pact liaison, never bothered to help out. The scorpion preferred to fake sleep, as if to inform Elion he reached to high, or that he was insufficient.

Noro could be hard to understand, but Elion had never been punished for trying to learn, and learned a lot he had, in these past few weeks. One thing to be said of adventuring is that it demanded you improve or die. It's as if Elion's patron reveled in all the killing that had transpired, a theory he was coming to fear. Why couldn't he earn privilege this way, practicing out on the green in the cold Northern drafts?

Elion tossed the broom upwards into the night sky, silently. No words. All it had to do was stay up there. The stick reached maximum height, and then begun to descend slowly. No, stay. Stay. The broom slowed more, and more, coming close to a full halt. Noro slipped, plummeting from his rest on the broom. Elion moved to intercept his familiar, catching the creature before it hit the ground. The same could not be said of the broomstick. It hit the ground.

"Maybe that's it for tonight?" Noro had managed to stay on the broom for most of Elion's other attempts. He didn't want to tire Noro out. Elion lifted Noro to his scarf and gathered his practice materials. He ensured his vial of Helva's blood was out of Noro's reach. The cretin had tried sneaking some sips a number of times.

The way back to the caravan was short and straight, but Elion could glimpse two spheres of torchlight in the distance. People were everywhere, nowadays. There were two or three groups who wanted Elion dead. "We're being hunted, all over again, Noro." When Elion got back to the caravan, William would probably be trying quiet down the chickens. That drunk of a wagon driver Elion still had to ask Sandru to dismiss likely hadn't gone to bed. And Elion was going to have to make sure not to step on one of mom's potions, or poisons, rather, as he returned his things to their places.

Noro shifted about within the scarf. "Aren't you tired?" Elion lifted a finger to his scorpion so it could claw at it. Noro was worried, yet again, for some reason. Elion hadn't seen Shalelu around, except at the party. "How does she do it, you think, Noro?" Noro twisted its claws around Elion's finger, rubbing it to a bright red.

Dear Mother,

                It’s been two weeks now since I set out on my grand adventure with the crimson caravan. Although I joined as a loathly animal caretaker I have quickly been promoted to aviary beastmaster. My gains aboard this exotic caravan seem endless but danger looms around every corner. All of my suffering pales in comparison to the torture I’ve endured in the family shoe factory, however.

Love,
Wilton

Dear Mother,

                Our travels seem to be going well. My two masters have taken me under their wing and have begun training me in both the alcoholic and summoning arts. I have undergone their ritual in which I was forced to wear the feather of the beast I seek to conquer. I have shed my former self to become something more. I have also been gifted a new summoner name to match my status. I am now Craig the aviary master. A portion of my earnings are included.

Love,
Craig

Dear Mother,

                Something either amazing or terrible has happened. One of my masters pulled me aside last night for what he called ‘special training’. Without warning I was forced into the dirt while he drew into my flesh with a claw. I passed out from the pain and awoke several hours later with a glowing symbol on my chest. He informed me that this was in fact a gift and that I should tell no one, including my other master. Should I perish from this, tell the family I love them.

Love,

Craig

Grüt, after slaughtering many an enemy, has learned the language of Shalelu's people. He can't wait to serenade her with passionate elven bed-talk when they return from the fortress. (That's what he's thinking will happen anyway.)

The Birds and the Bees will be forever scarred into Grüt's mind. Whomever the mother of his children are will have to have that talk with them, unless they be told the horrors that took place this evening..

Noro skid a stool into place behind the fortune wagon.  He employed both hands to tote around Elion's witch knife.  "The best thing about hands is dining," he said, resting the point of the knife towards Elion as he took position atop the stool.  "One can dine in style."  Elion held out his palm so that Noro could lay the point of the blade upon it.  The imp pressed slowly on the hilt, until a drop of blood bloomed from Elion's skin.

"What is on the menu this night?" asked Noro.  He spread the blood along the width of the blade between his thumb and forefinger, and then set to slicing up the spell scroll before him.

"Remove disease," answered Elion.  "Do we have to talk aloud?"  Noro's charge flipped a small vial of oil upside down, shaking it a bit before letting it drizzle over Noro's head.  It was cold, as to be expected.

"Yes.  I've been silent for half a decade."  Noro took a cut of 'Remove Disease,' consuming it along with a small amount of oil.  Not all magic tasted good.  If Elion's blood hadn't smeared on the edges of the paper chip, it would have been quite disgusting.  "You should get more spells that hurt and deceive.  You are a witch." Those ones were far more delectable.  "Also," wiping oil from his eyes had reminded Noro.  "I'll be the one setting your hair from now on.  You cannot give it style without a mirror."  The kid couldn't expect to be able to properly apply oil to his hair if he couldn't see what he was doing.

"Eh?  Ah, okay."  Elion turned his face leftward.  He always did, whenever he was upset or wanted to protest.  "Probably for the better.  And you're right.  The hurting spells, probably would be useful.  Thanks for the thundercloud, I can help with undead now."

Noro lowered his eyes at Elion.  "It's banishing time."  The boy hummed part of a dark word and yanked his hood down past his eyes.  Noro grinned.  "Good thing you inquired me of the dragon illusion.  You fool people in all ways but the one that counts."  Noro gathered his well-cut meal.  Like this, he could eat it as he was on the move.

"I can starch those, if you want to take them with you.  It should make it easier."

"No Elion, some things are best eaten raw."

As Trist is leaving the tower on Maki she leans in towards Maki's head and asks, "Maki, why do our friends dislike us so much. I mean first big brother Damien shoots me with his gun, nearly killing me and the Sisco attempts to cut you in half."
Maki shudders at that memory.
"Even Elliot is coming for us, didn't you see that thundercloud heading straight for us after zapping those ghoulies. It's a good thing he caught it last second. The only one left is Grut and I fear if he keeps practicing those fancy flips on his shield I may end up under him one of these days."
Maki stop's suddenly and flips Trist off of her back. She then lays right on top of her and begins licking her face.
"Yah yah, I know girl. You'll protect me no matter what." Trist attempts to say while under Maki. "I just wish I could rely on the others like I do you."

Ippy:
          Dark… no, dark does not begin to describe the blackness that surrounds you now. It is a black blacker than any cave, or winter night you have ever seen. It is a veritable void that has seemed to swallow you up at some point that you cannot recall. Behind you hear a cracking of glass and spin to find a floating crack in the air. The crack begins to enlarge and smaller fractures begin to jut from it and grow at the same rate until the whole thing looks like a spider web the size of your head and then it suddenly… stops. All is silent and you find yourself letting out a breath you didn't know you were holding. 
          You want to run, you don’t know why you feel terror but you want to run, to flee this place, to be anywhere but here but your body does not move. Your arms stay locked in place and your legs feel like stone; you take a breath to let out a scream when the spider web of cracks explodes outward and shards of “glass” rip into you though you feel no pain. Before you is a hole and through that hole you see a large glowing red eye starring back at you. It begins to yell at you in a hollow echoey voice.

     "Soulgas! Frokisa frsht leka frot dfhregshash!Xok!"


         The glowing red eye disappears for a moment and a long, spindly, pitch black arm shoots through the hole at your face. Where a hand should be there is instead a foot long blade just as black as the rest of the arm. The point, only inches from your nose, begins to flail wildly and you hear a loud roar come from the thing. That scream of yours finally leaves your throat and in a single eye blink you find yourself being shaken by a familiar litte imp and the void around you replaced by the near constant night of the crown of the world.

Ameiko stared at the sword in front of her. It was a plain sword as far as katanas go; three feet in length and wrapped in a basic diamond pattern around the handle. Even the guard looked plane; admittedly the legendary sword Suishen could be mistaken for any ordinary katana save for the slight blue glow the always seemed to catch the eye.

“Is there something you require lady Amatatsu?”

And the fact that it can speak...
Ameiko frowned
.
“Suishen, please just call me Ameiko, I didn’t even know my real name was Amatatsu until a few months ago.”

“That would be inappropriate lady Amatatsu, now is there something you need?”
Ameiko let out a sigh. No matter what she said it never conceded this point. She shook her head and decided to not fight that losing battle… again.

“I want information. The seal only gave bit and pieces of information, enough to know what we have to do, but it left me with many questions. Who exactly are these people that are trying to kill me and my friends? What is my family history? Why were you in the Linnorm kingdom and not with my family?”

Suishen did not say anything a long while as if collecting its thoughts. Ameiko was about to joke if the sword had fallen asleep on her when it broke into a story.

“Hundreds of years ago in Minkai, a powerful cabal of evil spirits known as oni emerged from the mysterious Forest of Spirits. Intent on seizing control of a land they felt they deserved to rule, these oni, known as the Five Storms, began a covert war against the five royal families of Minkai, for by obscure but nonetheless binding divine laws, only once all five families had been wiped out or controlled could the Five Storms take control. Around a hundred years ago the Five Storms had come close to their goal. Yet when the oni turned their attention to this last family of nobles, the Amatatsus, they discovered that the family had fled Minkai over the
Crown of the World.

When the exiled Amatatsus emerged from the Crown of the World and staggered into the Linnorm Kingdom city of Kalsgard, their numbers had been reduced to a small fraction of a once-grand dynasty. Led by the youngest and only surviving son, Amatatsu Tsutoku, the exiles sold their legendary family sword, me, to finance a stealthy integration into society. In order to finalize their hidden exile and throw off further pursuit from the Five Storms, your family changed their family name to Kaijitsu, chose new names and switched their order to match Avistan’s naming conventions. Thus did Amatatsu Tsutoku become Rokuro Kaijitsu. Using some of the money they received from selling me, your family secured a home in the small town of Brinewall and paid to have the only remaining proof of their royal lineage, the Amatatsu Seal, held in a magical warding box that blocked divination magic in a secure vault under Brinewall Keep.”

Ameiko listened intently to the story and sat beak in her chair when the weapon finished.
“It must have been hard for Tsutoku to give up the “legendary family sword” huh?”

“It indeed took me a long while to convince him.”

“Wait, you convinced him? Ameiko said surprised.

“Yes, everything up to that point had been my plan after all.” Suishen said in the same matter of fact voice it always spoke in. “My purpose is to serve the Amatatsu family, though distasteful, it was the only course of action to ensure the safety of the Amatatsu.”

Ameiko looked up into the tent ceiling processing the large chunk of history she was just given. Her family, an entire family of nobles fled because this “Five storms” was too powerful to handle. Now a hundred years later she, the last Amatatsu, was going back. She was going back with nothing but a small caravan. How were they supposed to take on the oni where a high noble house could not!? Not to mention after a hundred years of no competition for the throne the Five Storms were probably stronger than ever.

“Do not fear Ameiko.”  Suishen said as if sensing her mood. “I have fought with you and your friends. You are all strong individuals both in heart and body though some might not realize it yet. The future will not be an easy one but I believe we will prevail.”

Ameiko let out a small smile at the words of encouragement and then a full on grin as she realized something.

“Hey Suishen, you called me Ameiko.”

Grüt was having a bit of trouble sleeping.. 'So hungry...' He slowly gets out of tent, hoping to not disturb anyone. He gets over to the provisions wagon... 'So tired of berries...' At least they got the job done. Grüt looked around the camp as he nibbled on the berry (didn't want to get a tummy ache from eating too fast). Nothing out of the ordinary; most everyone was sleeping and Shalelu was out at her normal look-out spot. Grüt was told that elves didn't need to sleep like humans did. He didn't quite understand why, but he thought it was pretty cool. 'I wonder if she gets lonely at night...' Grüt felt he had been getting better at talking with Shalelu; he felt much more comfortable around her, but did she feel the same way?

Shalelu probably heard him coming from as soon as he left the camp, but he was going to try and approach her anyway.

One night Trist begins asking around the caravan for any type of board game that challenges 2 people's wits against one another. Preferably a simpler game for her experiment doesn't evolve the most intelligent of people. 
Does she find anything?

Popo:

    Shalelu Andosana marveld are the frozen wasteland before her like she had done for so many nights before. To say the crown was unique would be an understatement. The crown was a downright alien place. Here, day and night held no meaning for it was almost always constant darkness during these winter months. Here, temperatures dropped to such extremes that magic failed to keep people warm. Here, beautiful lights would suddenly shine in the night sky like an unraveling rainbow and disappear just as quickly. Here, sound died, consumed by the snow like a hungry beast; that was the worst part. It wasn’t the cold, or even the giant puddings that got to her. No, it was the sound, or the utter lack thereof. She was used to the forests, where the day was filled with the light hearted songs of birds and the night was filled with the chorus of chirping crickets with the occasional howl of a wolf. The forest always had life, even in winter. But here when everyone was still and sleeping? Silence, cold… deafening… silence.

    Shalelu sighed and began to stretch. She wasn’t particularly stiff but it made noise which was always a welcome break during her watch. If all goes well we should be out of here in about another month. I wonder… Shalelu was brought out of her musings by the sound of crunching snow coming from behind her. She tightened her grip on her bow and quickly checked over her shoulder to see the large lumbering figure that was unmistakably Gruts. She relaxed her grip on her bow. Out of everyone in the caraven besides Ameiko, she interacted with Grut the most. They talked a little bit each day and recently she realized that she actually considered him a friend… bringing her grand total lists of friends to two. She frowned as the memory of Ameiko scolding her for not being sociable crossed her mind but she shook her head and pushed it away as Grut reached her.

    “Good evening Grüt.”

Nailo:
You find a deck of cards and a checkers set.

The greeting quite surprised Grüt, in a good way. When the caravan first began the normal reaction was to tense up and leave. Grüt could feel a smile come over his face. "Good Evening." He asked if he could join her [assuming the answer was yes]] and sat down beside her.

After a minute or so, Grüt tried to strike up a conversation. "Grüt wanted to say sorry for not being able to help Shalelu before the play. Grüt is tough, but not strong; nothing I could do to giant flying thing and big lion." After a short pause, he continued "But you know, those people not bad people. These people Grüt has joined and fought with are good. Grüt understands why Ameiko acts the way she does, and she may be right. We are a caravan, a team, and it good to be close with each other. Grüt can't help but notice Shalelu is shy around others, but when it comes to combat, you throw it all away. Grüt can try and help Shalelu if she would like? Grüt would be much less dramatic than Ameiko." He kinda laughed as he joked with his last statement. He awaited Shalelu's response, gently smiling over at her.

BAD GRUT! NEVER CHOOSE THE COMFORT SHALELU OPTION! ALL YOU GET IS A SAD SEX SCENE THEN THE BAD END...

Popo:
The memory that she had just pushed away came back stronger. He was saying the same thing with the difference being that he was asking if she wanted help rather than stating what he was going to do about it like Ameiko.

"That is all right Grüt, I like the way I am" She said staring into the darkness. "And I know the people we travel with are indeed good people, though we are not that close, I consider each of them an ally ans comrade. You do not have to worry about that." She paused a bit and tilted her head in thought before sighing.
"And do not worry about what happened back in town, I should be used to these sort of things by now."

"Ah, well Grüt thinks that is a good way to think." Was that a lie? No, it couldn't be. Grüt wouldn't lie to Shalelu. Although, something kept bugging him that she would indeed better off feeling some sort of deeper connection with the party. Grüt continued to keep her company for a couple of hours, small talk of all sorts. Finally, Grüt stood up, "Sorry Shalelu, Grüt must go and sleep. Rest is needed to be tough to protect party. Good night!" As Grüt starts to walk away he turned around and said, "if Shalelu ever needs person to talk to, Grüt will always be there." He put his fist to his chest and grinned a big stupid grin, then continued on his way.

*One long frozen tundra night*

Craig: Tell me a story Kerby…

 Kerby: What is this..? Fine. OK. What kind of story do you wish to hear?

 Craig: Ooh, tell me a love story!

 Kerby: Ugh… fine. What year is it?

 Craig: 143 Obelisk, 93

 Kerby: What kind of weird date is that? Well this little tale took place in 1473, in Tien of all places.

 Craig: Oh, cool! I’ve been wantin to learn more of this place!

 Kerby: Shush, ok. So I was bound to a very ugh.. ‘Enthusiastic’ summoner at the time called Fizzlebittle. He was a gnome such as yourself.

 Craig: Oh so there are Gnomes in Tien as well then?

 Kerby: No. Now I swear, If you interrupt me one more time I will grab that stupid chicken cart, fly 200ft up and banish myself.

 Craig: …sorry…

 Kerby: OK. So this summoner had a unique bond with me and his other bound eidolons. We could exist at any distance from him and held an air of freedom. We got a certain amount of free will. He still controlled us, of course, but we got a bit more say in our actions.

 Craig: Wait, I thought you said Radius was your servant.

 *A Scorching Ray fires off and narrowly misses the chicken cart*

 Craig: Please continue.

 Kerby: This gnome craved power above all else. He sent all of his servants off to different corners of the world to all different kingdoms. Our mission was to infiltrate and spy. The journey was long and boring. We actually took a similar route to this one, around the pole, but the ice reached nowhere near as far down as it does now.

 Kerby: As I arrived the gnome gifted me the information I needed to know. He was short(for a gnome), hairy, terrible in social situations, but he was a genius on the arcane and probably the strongest mage I’ve been enslaved to. He had been scrying on this city for a few months now and had collected a considerable amount of information. The kingdom was currently in transition of rulership from father to daughter after the king’s untimely death. The king was a very paranoid man and forbid any social interaction with his daughter, fearing her (and his) safety. The gnome told me that a few year prior she befriended one of her servants that in turn helped her sneak away now and again. She always went to the same tavern.

 Kerby: The gnome suggested that I simply charm her, but I had a much better plan. I had the gnome shift me into her shape. I then stabbed a local fur trader and a few of his customers then fled to the tavern under the cloak of invisibility. I burst through the tavern door and bought two rounds for every patron. I was a hero. We were having a good time until a guard entered looking for the mysterious woman assailant. He instantly recognized the princess’s trench coat and pulled a sword on her. Now was my chance. I jumped across the table and disarmed (literally) the unsuspecting guard. In his pain and confusion I grabbed the princess, quickly exited the tavern, and took to the street. I rushed her through various alleyways until I deemed it safe. I explained that the guard was a part of a secret bandit organization attempting to secure the crown for themselves and that I was her sworn protector employed by her late father.

 Kerby: She immediately invited me to her bedchamber for my reward. I had just figured it was a mix of my heroics and charming demeanor but now I’m certain she would have just as easily invited the guard that threatened her. Over the next year of guarding her, I learned many things about her and the kingdom. I learned of troop movement, the size and quality of guard around the city, the financial situation of the kingdom, I even got a hold of the late king’s personal journal . I also learned a lot of the princess. She was absolutely demented. She was dark and evil and I loved it. She often tortured and killed servants when they refused her obscene demands. We had to hire new help at least once a week. This was absolutely no problem because during one of my through inspections of the castle I had found a huge treasure vault. With the king’s fortune backing us we did WHATEVER we wanted. It was absolute freedom. After a year we had spent a small fortune on bribes alone. We could fill and entire graveyard with the fun we had while the vast wealth kept our secrets safe.

 Kerby:  Once a wealthy noble came for a visit. His goal was to court my princess and become the king. Unfortunately, he arrived unannounced during one of our wild orgies. He had concluded that I has somehow brainwashed the fair princess into sexual servitude (when really, it was more the opposite). He challenged me to a duel that led to my downfall.

 Craig: He killed you?

 Kerby: No

 Craig: Then were duel not legal? Did the guards kill you?

 Kerby: No duels were legal, and that’s a total of two yummy chicken snacks you owe me. Anything else to add?

 Craig:…

 Kerby: The problem was that he told me I could choose my weapon. I chose surprise. Late that night I sneaked into his mansion, entered his fourth story bedroom and screamed SURPRISE as I quickly decapitated him… Not my best idea. Apparently I alerted quite a few members of the household. The first person to enter the bedchamber was a small child. I couldn't ask my master for help, I had not contacted him since I first arrived nor have I told him any of my advances with the princess. I panicked and quickly disposed of him by launching him out a nearby window. I ran out of the room only to run into another child. Again I launched him out a window. A flash on inspiration dawned as I quickly scribbled a note in abyssal on the ceiling. Maybe they’ll think it was some ritual or demonic offering or something? I was reaching for anything. The next to enter was a maid. It took a bit more effort to get her out the window. I then darted for the exit. I killed probably 6 or 7 more children, 4 servants and a dog in a similar manner during my grand escape. Unfortunately, the local guard had already surrounded the mansion and my escape was halted. I fought through swarms of under-trained guards until finally making it back to the castle. I limped in wounded and was instantly comforted by my love. I told her of my horrid deeds and to my surprise she asked me to marry her. I accepted instantly.

 Kerby: Unfortunately, one on the servants that I missed in the mansion was a loyal servant of Fizzlebittle. He told him of my treachery and how I messed up. After a few weeks of scrying he learned of my hidden romance and of the great opportunity I was holding from him. He ordered me to kill the princess as a punishment. I attempted to resist but he was able to take full control. He forced me to watch as I cut my love into small pieces. As soon as I was able to regain slight control, I flung myself out a nearby window and plummeted to my death. I found it fitting. And that’s why I absolutely detest gnomes. The end.

*Kerby then dismisses himself to spent the night alone*

After finally leaving the cave of yeti carcasses, Trist looks anxiously around. Very soon her eyes find what she is looking for. She runs up to and begins to gently caress it. She runs her fingers down its long, stiff appendage fondling what she finds at the end. She presses her body firmly against it, remembering what it was like be so deeply in love. She whispers ever so quietly, "I love you tree."

Elion threw his hands up before the bladed tendril.  He could not hide nor flee from this thing that had possessed him, and so he was at a loss how to defend himself.  This thing he could not understand.  Damien could not shoot it, Cisco could not cut it, and Koya could not stow Elion away.  He was scared, so he screamed.  He screamed along with Noro, who was shouting something about returns.  How was he supposed to deal with this thing if even Noro would not remain objective?

He could not understand it, and so he was going to die to it.  It seemed so much like a planar demon, yet it was not.  It's ambiguity was akin to that of the patrons, as if one had managed to share in Elion's body by means of a forced covenant.  And to do so in the presence of another pact... refusal did not seem an option when faced with such power.

When Elion had contracted his patron, he had believed he would inherit the same as his father's, a patron of forest fires.  Both Elion and his dad had been surprised the summoning rites culminated in a burst of doves.  Some other esoteric patron had taken notice of Elion and claimed him first.  It wasn't until Elion's mom discovered a scorpion hiding in her hat that Elion's patron was identified as 'Trick.'  The dove he had thought his familiar dispersed at that point.

Why was he remembering this now?  The forcible patron was roaring now.  Its bladed tendril's violent motion would surely cut straight through his arms.  Elion needed a better plan, his arms were getting cold.  Noro still insisted he return, so he figured he could start with that.  Elion pulled his outstretched arms back through a draft of chilled air.  As he curled his hands into fists, a ribbon of colors appeared behind where his fingers had been.  An aurora.  The blade, the eye, they were both gone.  The black void took on a shade of grey.

Elion's rib cage was trembling.  No wonder: he had thrown off his blanket and a sudden iciness had settled in.  He pulled back the covers, which caused Loth to lose her balance.  The pink-scaled reptilian flipped off its feet beside Elion's thigh.  She had been clinging to him, and was terribly panicked.  Her snaky head craned behind itself and broke into what could only be a wide-mouthed smile.  Their link became flooded with relief.  How was this creature that violent patron's familiar?

His other familiar had his tiny hands pressed to Elion's collarbone.  Rather than losing his footing to the blanket-tug, Noro made use of his wings and hovered above Elion's lap.  "Elf dreamspeakers are supposed to sleep easy, are they not?"  Noro sounded strangely steady considering he had just been shouting.  Wait, no, it made sense if Noro had been shouting in Elion's mind rather than using his voice.

"I am untrained.  The humans--" Elion looked from Noro to Loth then back again.  "You can talk to her."

"Yes."  Noro's expression remained flat.  Elion expected to feel guilt or remorse from Noro's bond, but it was stagnant, as ever.  He was unsure if Noro had found a way to mask or control his emotions.  In either case he felt Noro should have pointed out his newfound telepathy would be useful for communicating with Loth.  Perhaps she knew something of her patron.  "How is your condition?"  

Maybe Noro's concerns were elsewhere, but Elion wasn't going to let him divert the conversation.  "Have you talked?"

"Yes.  As she had nothing of value to say, I didn't feel the need  relay her babble."  At this point, Loth righted her body and lowered her head upon Elion's leg.  Her eyes seemed especially watery.  Elion saw, apology?  What would she have to apologize for?

"What's she saying?"

"Nothing of value."

"Noro..."

"She is not so intelligent."  Noro sent a scowl in Loth's direction.  "Even conversing for a moment can be... irritating."  Loth burried her head into Elion legs, hiding her eyes.  She was sad.  Elion wondered exactly what it would take to annoy Noro.  "Since she had no clue as to her origin, I did not see a need to inform you.  Translation would be difficult, to say the least."

Elion buried his face in his hands.  "Hmnnn."  No closer to understanding his nightmares, if they could be called that.  Any normal nightmare he should have power over.  "Heh."  Elion smiled.  He realized he was copying Loth.  Was the new patron even evil?  Loth imparted not an ounce of Trick's insidious scheming or blood thirst.  Maybe it was trying to break some seal, and Elion was a means to an end.  "What do you think Noro?"

"I think your one option is to indulge in its gifts or not.  Choose to indulge."

"I agree.  The worst that could happen--"

"I don't like that thinking Elliot."

"--I die before Koya."  Elion kept on smiling as he peered at Noro from over his knees.

This time Ellion had set the pact sigil upon a slab of stone, in the middle of the grass, right beneath the morning sun. A Tian woman in passing had decided to watch him. Over the 'grand adventure' he'd learned that if one used witchcraft to combat oni overlords or brutal yetis people would warm up to it, and you. They'd give him as many chances to talk as he needed, it didn't really matter how often he drew blanks. He still went blank whenever Ameiko met his eyes, but thankfully she seemed content with just sharing in his company, this elf boy fighting for her regency. He hadn't really cared about the rulership of Tian-Zia, at least until he saw that oni's chamber in the forest prison.

The woman let the water she was carrying rest on the ground. Maybe Ellion wasn't proceeding fast enough for her. It's not that he couldn't smear the alfenstem on the stone more quickly, he just didn't want to make a mistake and waste any of the needlessly expensive poultice. When the woman had asked if she could spectate he said yes because resummoning a familiar was no frightful process. Ellion was beginning to understand that had been his dad's mistake. People could handle strange. People could handle bestial warriors, sentient trees, a cute sister that was a dinosaur, a man of ancestry so mixed he had no proper ethnicity, and even an abyss-eyed, cackling witch.

What they couldn't accept were threats they didn't understand, imagined or not. So, per Koya's idea, Ellion was 'mingling' more-- if mingling meant being in the general vicinity of wherever other people were doing things. Trying to answer even a few questions had proven itself exhausting, Ellion often retiring to isolation after redirecting those few villagers that approached him to Cisco. It was good this woman wasn't asking questions. How was he supposed to explain a creature granted to him by the patron of trickery, in all its ambiguity, to enact the pact bond?

Having finished with the alfenstem, mistake free, Ellion laid his hands at the base of the stone. The woman probably thought this was easy; truth was he had done most of the work through the night, this last bit was the easiest. Ellion spoke the words and the pact sigil grew beyond the stone in a flux of light. Then it vanished, swiftly as it had grown. In place of it, and the alfenstem, was a clacking scorpion. "Noro," Ellion smiled. "I'm sorry."

The scorpion angled its forward half left and right, adjusting to the new environment. "Noro?" it asked, telepathically. "Was that that dead imp's name? I don't want that name, it's bad. Name me Flowerbucket. Or Watercan. Maybe Hummingwire, or I could even do with Laidrasin. Just don't name me Noro."

"Huh, Noro?"

"Dead imp. Catch up kid. How about Racyhyena?"

"Masterrrr," Lilth cut in, groaning telepathically, a feat Ellion didn't now possible until Lilth had joined him as a second familiar. "Booblywink bawpels." The miniature raptor flopped out of Ellion's scarf and hung itself over his ankles, extended behind him from his kneeling position. The behavior wasn't odd of her, and the groaning was likely from the stress of suddenly cohabiting the familiar bond once again.

"This isn't a prank, Noro? I mean, scorpion? Noro is dead? As a planar being?"

"Yeah. And as a familiar. It's our duty you know. If sacrificing me serves you, don't worry your booblywink bawpels about it. If I die I go back there and deal with that anyways."

"I got Noro killed."

"Masterrrrrr!" Lilth thrashed around Ellion's ankles. The Tian woman had taken to watching Lilth, the motion more exciting than a stare-down between an elf and a scorpion. She mentioned something, but Ellion didn't hear.

"Yes, master...rrrrr. You got him killed. I hope it served. What's booblywink bawpels? I see you know eighteen languages and those aren't words in any of them. Wait. Do we have secret familiar code? Tell me we have a secret code."

The unnamed scorpion hopped nearer to Ellion and clamped its claws in succession. Noro had not been so animated. His gestures had weighed in significance, a hallmark from the days when Ellion's familiar had no way to communicate in return. When the bond had finally grown thick enough for Noro to speak, Ellion learned with surprise the depth and intelligence of Noro's schemes and observations. He didn't deserve to die on Ellion's account, his soul gone far beyond the reach of most magics.

"Look Ellion. If I was the imp, I'd be not happy that you were not finishing what I died for. So focus on that now, celebrate the dead later." Ellion's new familiar shoved his stinger in the direction opposite of its master. "Also, that. Your job, not mine, right?"

Ellion's attention went across the ground, finding Lilth rolling along the dirt. Her body was no longer reptilian, but that of an inevitable arbiter. A clockwork sphere of bronze and copper, complete with wings and two limb servos. Perfect for launching herself at variable speeds into the earth, tumbling and spinning about until she regained enough control to once again plunge herself downwards.

"Booblywink bawpels aren't words. They're just noises." Noises that had irritated Noro greatly.

Meredith my love, I apologize for the lack of communication. It seems the north pole does not have a proper postal system! Everything here is absolutely barbaric. Ice everywhere. They hunt with spears even, it is quite amusing to watch. The worst part is that we seem to have taken one of the locals under our wing. He is crude, stupid, and I don't even know if he knows how to write! The first night I caught him eating one of my prized fowl and scolded him harshly. I fear for my flock. I didn't even want to take him but my armour seems to glow whenever he's near.

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Oh, and about my magical talking armour I wrote you about last letter... Well I wasn't fully truthful. After in-dept conversation it turns out that my Cisconian Robe was actually a creature at one point, isn't that weird? It actually has a will of its own and it seems to like the child. 

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I've handed off this letter off to one of the locals who I've paid handsomely to see that it reaches you. Attached is a portion of my earnings(Make sure you count 30p, I don't quite like the look of this fellow) Tell my son I love him and to make his father proud at the factory!

Your truly and forever,

Craig