For Sunny and Their Community

 Hello all!  Argentwind here.  A few months ago I wrote this story and submitted it to an online magazine.  Unfortunately, it didn't get accepted so I haven't been able to share this with anyone except a select few.  (One of them being Sunny!)  In celebration of the holidays and a wildly successful fundraiser, I have decided to post this on my blog so you can all read it to.  Enjoy "The Hunt".

“Can you give us a sign?” a voice called out from the dark hallway. 

Two men stood further down the corridor.  One of them held a dish-like device in one hand with a wire extending to a pair of headphones.  An LED flashlight was taped to the bottom of the dish. His eyes darted around quickly, and he swung the microphone back and forth with twitchy, nervous motions causing the beam of light to swing around wildly.  He wore jeans, tennis shoes, and faded Metallica T-shirt.

“What’s the deal with her, Xander?” asked the man fidgeting with the microphone. 

“Them,” replied the other. “Pronouns, man.  Sunny is a badass.  They’re an expert at ghost-hunting.” He was taller and wore a black sweatshirt and navy-blue track pants.  He carried a digital camera and held himself with much more confidence.  “I’ve been talking with them online for months now and we’re lucky they were in town to help us out.”

Sunny swept their gaze up and down the hall, before turning back to the pair.  Their hair was tucked up into a beanie cap, but a few strands of magenta color poked out.  They wore black skinny jeans tucked into knee-high lace-up boots and a baggy black jacket over a T-shirt printed with a cute cartoonish character. A small, powerful flashlight was attached to their left shoulder.

“Have you got anything yet?” they asked while sweeping a small device back and forth.  “The EMF is quiet so far.  What’s the deal with this place, Xander?”

Xander smirked at the almost identical question.  “Cathy’s Cauldron.  Coffee shop and bookstore.  It’s changed hands a number of times, but according to numerous accounts, the place is haunted and the newest owner wants to see if it’s true.  So far, not so much.” 

They had arrived over an hour ago and after setting up the equipment, the fourth member of the group took their customary spot in the van.  Tina, Xander’s wife, was a techno-expert but didn’t like to go inside spooky places. The newest member of the investigating team was Jamie, a long-time friend of Xander who had finally agreed to join him on his obsession to investigate the paranormal.

Sunny turned to aim their flashlight over the four doors in the hallway.  “Bathrooms, office, and utility room.  Let’s check them one at a time.”  They turned to the door labeled “manager” and opened it.  Inside was a modest wooden desk, filing cabinet, and a mismatched set of chairs.  There was a soft beep from the device in their hand and Jamie gasped quietly from the hallway which earned him a knowing nod from Xander.  “Barely a blip - could be just old wiring,” Sunny said softly.  Then in a louder voice they called out, “Hello, Ghost?”  They flashed a smile over their shoulder at the men in the hallway when suddenly, the EMF reader flared to life, emitting high-pitched whine as every light flashed brightly.

Before anyone could react, the door to the one of the bathrooms across the hall slammed open.  A wispy trail of mist flowed out as a voice rasped, “Give me what I want!”  Jamie yelped and scrambled down the hall, his light swinging wildly. Xander calmly took a few steps back as he clicked off his shoulder light and raised his digital camera.  Sunny ducked out of view as they stowed the EMF reader in one of the pockets in their jacket.

After a nerve-wracking minute, the mist faded away.  Nothing else happened until Jamie’s voice shattered the oppressive silence, “What was that?  What do we do?”

Sunny stepped out into hallway again and shared a nod with Xander as he looked up from his camera, eyes glittering with excitement.  Sunny looked over at the cowering novice member of the investigation team.  Their voice was calm and soothing, “First rule, don’t panic.  Second, when things are happening, stay quiet and get out of sight.  And last,” they paused and looked at the wall to Jamie’s right.  “Pay attention.”

Jamie turned to look.  The word “want” was scrawled in large reddish-brown letters that oozed slowly down the wall.  “Is that… blood?” he asked haltingly.

“Most likely.  Or some ghostly equivalent,” Xander replied before reaching to his earpiece and tapping it.  “Honey, tell me you got something?”

Over the radio in each of their earpieces, they all heard Tina’s voice filled with enthusiasm.  “The camera picked up some kind of mist, and based on how you all reacted, it came from one of the bathrooms?  I couldn’t see from the angle.”

Xander cursed softly.  “My cam didn’t pick up anything either, but can you see this writing?”  He walked toward Jamie and pointed his hand-held camera at the writing.

“Yeah, that is creepy!”  She paused before adding, “That’s good, Sunny!  I can see the door in camera three now and …” She trailed off for a moment before continuing in a louder tone.  “Activity on camera one.  In the stacks!”

Xander immediately spun and bolted back down the hall with Sunny close behind him.  Jamie trailed after them, his eyes still wide with fear.  They moved into a massive open room with high ceilings and exposed ductwork above.  To the right was a large counter along with a half dozen circular tables with the chairs upended on top.  The left side of the room was filled with a maze of tall bookshelves. Halloween decorations covered almost every surface: ghosts hung from the ceiling, carved pumpkins and black cat figures adorned various flat surfaces.  A full-size skeleton stood vigil in the corner. The temperature in the room was noticeably colder and the trio could see their breath puffing in front of their faces.

“Where are we looking, Tina?” Xander asked and after a brief pause, he spoke louder, “Tina?”  There was only a crackling hiss from the radios. 

Sunny sucked in a sharp breath and muttered softly, “That’s not good.”

Jamie turned toward them with alarm and asked in a fear-filled voice, “What? What’s not good?’

Sunny locked eyes with him and spoke softly, “First rule, Jamie.”

He looked at them blankly for a moment before replying, “First rule.  Right! Stay calm.”  Then he dropped to the ground as a heavy book thudded into the right side of his head. 

“Jamie!” Sunny said in a harsh whisper.  Xander looked in their direction and rushed to his fallen friend, kicking aside the microphone that he had dropped.  The two grabbed the lifeless man and dragged him behind the tables. 

After examining Jamie’s head for any serious damage, Sunny looked up at Xander and spoke softly.  “He’ll be okay.  Just dazed.” 

Already, Jamie was starting stir and his eyes fluttered open.  He looked around with growing horror and opened his mouth to shout, but Sunny put their hand over his mouth and made a soft shooshing sound.  After a few seconds, Jamie nodded and worked to control his breath which was no longer visible.

“Are you all okay?” Tina’s voice came through on the radio.  “I saw someone fall just before the cameras glitched out.”

Xander was the first to answer.  “Yeah, we’re fine.  Jamie got clocked by a book.”

“Wait.  Actual manipulation of physical objects?  That’s crazy!”  Tina’s tone was equal parts excitement and terror.  “Is Jamie alright?”

Jamie sat up rubbing his head as he responded, “Yeah I’ll be fine.  That was one heavy book.”

Sunny glanced over where he had fallen and spotted a large, leatherbound tome.  They scurried over to retrieve the volume and brought it back to hand it to Jamie with a smile, “There, a souvenir for you.”  He chuckled softly but grimaced and rubbed his head.

“We’ve got a problem.”  Xander’s voice made them both look up.  He was standing at the front door, looking at them with a grim expression. “It’s locked and it won’t open.  Tina, can you open it from the outside?”  He listened before speaking again, “Tina?”  Static was the only answer

“Dude, look behind you.”  Jamie said, his voice quavering.

Xander looked to see the word “Give” written on the window of the door, the blood-red letters dripping down the glass.  He looked down at his camera and slowly moved it around the room.  Once his back to was to the door again, he immediately looked up in alarm.  A figure flickered into view between him and his friends.  It was a woman in a fashionable dress, but the clothing was tattered and stained.  Stringy dark hair hung down over her shoulders and she stared at him with eyes full of malice and hatred.  Dark bile spilled out of her mouth and over her chin.  She pointed over toward the counter and she hissed a loud gurgling growl.

Xander looked back and forth frantically, unsure what to do.  The ghost’s eyes flashed, and she reached out with long, bony fingers to wrap around his throat.  At their feet, a circle of frost formed on the ground and began to stretch outward in all directions.  He gasped and choked while struggling to pull away the now solid fingers.

From Sunny and Jamie’s view, the ghost had disappeared, and they could only see their friend’s hands wrapped around his own throat.  However, they could see two sets of footprints in the frost.  Sunny exploded into motion, pulling a lighter and small bundle of wrapped twigs and herbs from their pocket. Once they were within a few feet of Xander, they lit the bundle, known as a smudge stick, and a sweet, pungent smoke filled the air.  The hazy figure shimmered into view once more.

The ghost released Xander, who dropped to the floor in a heap.  She spun to hiss in Sunny’s face, but before she could attack, Sunny turned and ran back toward the bookshelves, dropping the smudge stick behind them.  “Stay down!” They called out to Jamie who was still sitting on the floor, gaping in astonishment. 

Jamie could only nod as he watched the spectral form, now fully visible as she stalked across the room.  Sunny moved quickly among the bookshelves and weaved between the twisting maze of books.  Every time the spectre came into view, they ducked out of sight around another corner. After a few tense minutes, the ghost seemed to lose interest and disappeared.  In moments, the chill in the air faded as well.

A panicked voice suddenly exploded from the radio.  “Xander!  Anyone!  What’s happening?”  Tina was on the verge of hysteria.

Jamie’s voice was shaky as he replied, “Xander’s down, but I think Sunny saved him.  I’ll go check.”  He crawled over to Xander and leaned down over the fallen man’s chest. “Yeah, he’s still breathing.”  He looked up at the door to see the writing was still there.  He looked over at Sunny as they stepped out from the bookshelves.  “How do we deal with this thing?” he shouted.

Sunny looked around with a grim expression and then pointed to the door as they replied. “She obviously wants something.  If we can figure out what, maybe she’ll leave us alone.” 

Jamie’s eyes darted around the room anxiously.  Giving a shout of excitement, he stood and rushed behind the counter, feverishly searching for something.  “Power!  The power is off!”  They both turned to look at the hallway before looking back at each other, a mix of determination and fear in their eyes.   

After a deep calming breath, Sunny said, “I’m on it. Stay out of sight.” With a last look at the unconscious form of Xander, they set off at a brisk walk out of the room. 

The hallway before them was, at most, ten yards long but it felt closer to one hundred.  Dread and fear welled up in Sunny’s chest as they reached into their pocket for another smudge stick.  The door at the end of the hall led to a combination utility room and changing room, and that was where they had to go. 

Moving as slowly and quietly as possible, they closed the distance.  At the door to the manager’s office, there was a sudden burst of movement as a chair came hurdling out toward Sunny.   They barely managed to duck back out of the way as the chair shattered against the opposite wall, sending fragments of wood in all directions. 

Sunny stepped carefully through the debris, but more rattling and scraping sounds came from the office.  They looked into the room to find the ghost standing perfectly still, with her back to the door.  The remaining chairs were moving as though unseen hands were pushing them around.  Suddenly the ghost turned her head and locked eyes with Sunny.

Moving quickly, they lifted the smudge stick and lit the bundle, letting smoke waft into the room.  Then they dropped the smoking mass inside, pulled the door shut, and sprinted down the hall to the utility room.  They frantically opened the door and stepped inside while shutting the door behind them.  Looking back and forth, they spotted the breaker box on the wall where a red light gleamed in the darkness.

The light mounted to their shoulder started flickering and approaching noises in the hallway caused their heart to beat wildly.  “Crap!” they muttered in a breathless whisper, but they rushed across the room and pulled the switch on the breaker.  Then they scrambled over to the changing area and squeezed into one of the over-sized lockers.

Barely able to breathe, they fought to control their rising panic.  The door to the room scraped open and softly thudding footsteps moved inside.  Fingernails scratched the walls and the ghost let out a low angry growl.  “I demand to speak with the manager,” she hissed.  Sunny fought down their terror and stayed silent, but their heartbeat thundered loud in their ears.

“Order up!” A voice called from the front room.  The ghost looked in that direction before rushing out the door.  Sunny counted to three before stepping out from the locker to see the room was empty.  They moved cautiously but quickly down the hall to the front room where they stopped to stare in astonishment.

Jamie was behind the counter, standing perfectly still, his face pale and his hands shaking.  His gaze flicked over to Sunny before moving back to the ghost standing on the other side of the counter.  The woman looked more solid now and held a steaming cup in her hands.  She seemed to sip at the hot drink before placing it back down on the counter and nodding.  Then with a satisfied sigh, she faded from view.

Sunny walked slowly over to the counter, an amazed look on their face.  “What was that?  What did you do?”  They picked up the cup and smelled it.  “Pumpkin Spice?”

Jamie nodded.  “I worked as a barista for three years and I’ve had to deal with so many people like that.  As for the drink of choice…”  He trailed off and waved his hands toward the decorations around the room.  “It’s that time of year.”

Return to Ark - New Friends

Ark has been a lot of fun, but what makes the game really shine are the people.  Nothing but helpful and fun, the people featured in this piece are the best. 



"So what's next for HQ?" Blue asked as the group sat at the tables of the new rooftop lounge.

Rose took a long slow drink before answering, "I think I've done enough.  I still want that Dracolich."

"Ooooh!" Miki exclaimed.  "Me too!"  Her words were slurred as she had been drinking a bit longer than the rest after getting the beer keg hooked up to the irrigation system.  She had to test out the product, of course!  That's what she had told everyone when they all arrived for the first official Happy Hour.

Deer looked out toward the waterfall that obscured his living area.  "I'm starting to run out of room.  Those things take up a lot of space."

"You've been clearing out the space and now you want to fill it up again?" Argent asked while pouring himself another tankard of beer.  The large man was definitely in need of another haircut as the Mohawk and Biker 'Stache look was growing out to ridiculous proportions.

Rose laughed at the big man.  "That’s what we do."  Her hand rested on the triceratops skull sitting on the table next to her, her fingers idly brushing over the bony crest.  Miki grinned and nodded vigorously, sloshing her drink on the table.

Blue was lost in thought as he wrote in his notebook, most likely designing the next of his upcoming events.  He looked up distractedly, "We do what?"  Rose picked a berry out of the bowl on the table and threw it at the naked man's head.  He blinked as the ripe projectile splatted against his forehead and frowned as the red juice dripped down onto his notebook.

Bubbling laughter burst from Rose so Miki was the one who answered.  "We're going out to tame a dracolich, and you're coming with."  Blue simply nodded and went back to writing.

After recovering, Rose muttered into her beer.  "I just hope the draco doesn't have weird feet."  Everyone turned to look at her.  "I'm telling you!  That thing had feet on its feet!"

Miki laid a hand on her friend's shoulder and said softly, "Sure Rose.  We believe you, but maybe you've been working a little too hard?"  Argent was doing his best not to laugh, but he looked around in confusion as a shadow suddenly passed over all of them.  He looked up and his confused expression grew as saw a large shape filling the space above headquarters.  Noting the ragged leathery wings and emaciated scales with protruding bones, he realized what he was seeing.

"Rose, your chance at a Dracolich is here," he said with a distinct note of fear in his voice.  The beast let out a screech as it dropped into a dive straight down.   Argent scrambled to his feet and ran for the edge of the roof.  He looked over his shoulder as the four experienced tribe leaders drew weapons and began firing.  The red skeletal dragon swooped down the roof and Argent leaped over the railing, aiming for the water below.  Unfortunately, he fell short and hit the stone floor with a bone shattering crunch.

Weapons fire and loud echoing roars blasted through the massive cavern as Argent hobbled back into HQ, his vision blurry and red as the nanites rushed through his body to correct the damage caused by his fall.  Eating some meat to give the tiny machines more fuel to do their work, he managed to get to the crafting area.  Creatures of every size and color were screeching and roaring outside, some in rage and pain, many in fear.

After grabbing a wicked looking crossbow and some ammunition from one of the lockers, he rushed to the front door.  Outside was complete chaos as the menagerie of beasts rushed around in panic.  First, he grabbed the pink dodo, Bruce while it raced by.  A sudden blast of green glowing gas lit up the cavern above and he looked up to see a flash of flapping undead wings. 

Deer swooped by on one of his flying monsters, firing his weapon as his mount unleashed a blast of flame.  Rose, riding on the enormous World Eater, flew away from the combat to get the valuable mount clear of the fighting.  She leaped off the hideous bat-like creature and swooped down over the water with her wings extended.  Miki and Blue launched an endless stream of bolts into the dracolich from the rooftop while running and dodging frantically to avoid tooth, claw, and acidic clouds. 

Still running in and out of the HQ’s main doors, Argent grabbed one critter after another and brought them to safety.  Then came a blast from above as something broke.  He turned to look up as the broken remains of the beer keg and all of its contents came crashing down onto him.  The last thing that he knew before darkness claimed him was blunt force and foamy goodness.

When he finally came to, the others were already cleaning up and taking stock of all of the mounts and smaller tames.  Miki noticed Argent starting to rouse and walked over to crouch in front of him.  “You’re crazy, you know that?  Thanks for saving so many of my little friends, but why didn’t you just whistle to them?”  She ruffled his beer-soaked hair and pulled him back to his feet. 

“Well that was pretty stupid, huh?”  Argent looked around until he spotted a huge reddish dragon near the water’s edge.  Rose stood next to the beast, watching it carefully.  She turned to look up at Argent as he approached and he could see the huge grin behind the trike skull helmet.  “Found a new friend?”

Rose nodded and winced at the motion.  “Her name is Ashka.  Do you like it?”

Smiling back, he nodded and said quietly, “Yes, I do.”  After a quiet moment, he added “So, can we go for a ride?”

New Game - New Inspiration

So I started playing ARK: Survival Evolved.  It's multiplayer game and the people are amazing!  Miki is one of my oldest friends and it's so great to be able to play with her online again.  There was a joke about her Discord channel having a FanFic and Fan Art channel and this little drabble popped into my head.  Enjoy!

A Day in the Life (and Death) of Ark

"Aaaaahhhhhh‼" came a distant scream.  Immediately, two other voices responded over the commlink.

"What is it?"  The calm, male voice was drowned out by a much more frantic female voice.

"Rose, where are you?"  Miki was flying around the snowcapped mountains looking for materials and scanning the skies for danger.

"It's going to kill me!" Rose screamed again.  "And my bird!"

Almost in sync, Deer and Miki both replied in varying degrees of urgency.  "Where?"

"At the shore, Northeast of HQ!  Ahhhh!" Rose was frantic, her tone that of someone in the middle a fight for her life.

Deer, on his trusty Leviathan, began soaring toward Rose's location. 

Miki scrambled around headquarters, trying to decide which of her vast stable to take on this potentially dangerous crisis.  She settled on her newest mount, a beautiful purple and green wyvern and whistled to it.  Unfortunately, she caught the attention of every mount in the area and they all came rushing toward her.  As the motley assortment of creatures swarmed around her, Miki began laughing and swearing as she sorted through horde to find the mount she wanted.

From the ridge above HQ, a lone figure dressed in a ragged mix of cloth and hides watched the chaos below.  Argent, the newest member of the tribe, glanced over his shoulder at the pteranodon milling around the flat ground near modest sized thatch hut.  Primus had died horribly a few days ago but this new mount was doing well.  Deer had been amazingly helpful in getting the newbie back on his feet with the new mount and plenty of materials.

There was a sudden rush of air as Miki's wyvern came shooting up through the aerial opening to the base.  She banked off to the Northeast and out of sight.  Rose was still screaming in panic while Deer calmly moved toward her location, occasionally asking for directions or an update on her status.

Miki's voice suddenly broke through the chatter, "Shit!  I forgot my weapons!  I'll be right back!  Sorry Rose!"

 "Oh no!  There's another one!" Rose screamed again.

"I'm almost there," Deer replied.  "I think I see you."

Argent chuckled and turned back toward his hut.  He looked over the structure and mentally tried to picture what he would work on next?  Replace the thatch with wood?  Or just move straight to a sturdy stone, building?  There was another rush of air behind him as Miki dove back down toward the tribe's main base.

"Okay Rose," Miki said frantically.  "I'll just grab my stuff and be right there."

There was a moment of silence on the comms until Rose answered in a much calmer voice, "Never mind.  Everything's okay."

Argent smiled and walked toward his hut but paused as Primus II let out a screech.  He turned toward the dinosaur, wondering what would cause him to make that sound but his answer came soon enough.  A chittering growl came from his left as a massive raptor stalked up the hill and into view.  Argent could almost see the blood stains on the beasts claws as a moment of recognition flashed between them.

Over the comms the rest of the tribe heard soft low voice.  "Well, Damn."

More writing and something New

A third story published in the Decemeber issue of Sirens Call e-zine. Two short stories will be published in upcoming anthologies.  One at Sirens Call and one at Fantasia Divinity!  (Will post links when those are out.

2nd Story Accepted at Sirens Call!

Another story of mine was accepted for the Sirens Call ezine.  "Reach for the Light" is a creepy little story that I started based on an idea I had while watching Ghost Hunters.  It seemed like a perfect time to get story written and though it's short, I feel it definitely hit the disturbing vibe.  It will be coming out in the July issue.

As of now, I still haven't received the final word about my first hand account story, but the last email I got indicated that I was still in the running.

Big News

A good friend of mine is also a writer (Zachary O'Shea. Check out his site: http://lastslicestudios.com/).   He has been submitting his work to various publishers for years.  A little over a month ago I happened to see a post of his about a call for writers from Siren's Call Publications.  http://www.sirenscallpublications.com/

I answered the call.

The original post was for a short story anthology called "First Hand Accounts".  All submissions have to be horror stories written in the first person perspective.  Thanks to the Undead Wars, I have a substantial amount of experience with that style so I figured I would give it a shot.  I've completed my first draft and will be submitting the story as soon as I finish my second draft.  I always go back and flesh out my stories and add details in my rewrites.

While checking out the submission guidelines, I happened to see another open submission call for the Halloween edition of their bi-monthly ezine.  I went into my writing folder and pulled out an old short story, made a few edits and submitted it.

It was Accepted!   My first official publication!  To say that I'm excited is quite an understatement.  I know that writing is something that I will be doing for the rest of my life and it's thrilling to know that others will be reading my work and (hopefully!) enjoying it.

I'll be posting more soon.

Something New! Meet the Hunter

 This idea grew straight from a dream: a wild, totally cinematic dream.  This was the scene that played out as I was waking up and started working on the setting and characters right away.   I don't know if this will turn into a new novel or a short story, but I really like the setting so far.  Enjoy!


Trouble at Stix

Steffin pushed open the massive copper doors and gazed into the noisy smoke-filled tavern.   A few eyes turned his way, but they quickly shifted away.  No one ever stared at strangers unless they were looking for a fight.  His Hunter-reflexes were in high gear, as they always were.  He scanned the crowd intently as he stepped slowly inside.  He made no sudden or aggressive moves and by the time the door closed behind him, he was confident that no serious threat existed.  He was tall and lean with leathery, tanned skin that came from time spent outdoors.  Slipping his black shades up onto hairless head, he rubbed at the dark stubble covering his jawline and muttered softly, “time for a decent shave”.

He strode across the room, slowly and easily, his hands at his sides, long coat flapping around his knees.  As he approached the bar, he glanced up at the stylized sign that read, “Stix”.  The “x” was formed by two broken pool cues.  Looking passed the bar, he smiled at the large room where ten pool tables were arranged in two even rows.  Even though it was hours before sundown, the tables were all occupied and the clack of billiard balls was loud in Steffin’s ears.

“Steff, is that you?  It’s been, what a year since you’ve been to church?”

Steffin grinned at the man behind the bar.  He was broad-shouldered and dark-skinned.  Lines creased the corners of his eyes but the man’s wide bright smile, showed that the wrinkles were not from worry or anger.  His hair was black and close-cropped and the gray mixed in at the temples were the only clue to his advancing age.

“Nice to see you, Keve.  It has been a while.  How’s the flock?”  The pool hall and tavern was located in an old church, something that made the Christians furious.  Few of the patrons knew about the origin of the building but for Steffin and the bartender, it was a running joke.

“Oh, I can’t complain.”  He took on a solemn expression and intoned, “Our cup runneth over.  Speaking of, what can I get you?”

Steffin smiled at the old joke and moved up to lean on the bar.  “Gimme a water.”

“Gonna be two cred.”  At Steffin’s visible wince, he continued.  “It’s the dry season.  Rationing is in full swing.  Mud and Juice are both only a cred though.”

Both alcohol drinks, mud was actually fermented goat’s milk that was typically thick and brown, thus the name.   Juice was a straight grain alcohol distilled from a mix of hemp, wheat and barley.  Steffin never partook in substances that could dull his senses or reflexes.  It had been almost a decade since he left the Hunters, but he had never abandoned his training.

“No thanks, Keve.  Water’s fine.  What do you have on the grill?”

“Got a decent rat steak.”  Seeing his friend’s expression, he continued, “Or we’ve got some ham as well.  I’ll get you a nice cut.  Gonna be five cred total.”  Steffin handed over a plast chit, stamped with the Carseno seal on one side the number five on the other.  “You gonna want a run on one of the tables?”

“Hey!  I’m next on the wait list!”  Keve glanced up at someone behind Steffin’s right shoulder.  The bartender’s smile slipped slightly and his eyes narrowed.   Steffin saw his friend slowly moving his hand to something under the bar and he knew that he had to act before the situation could escalate.  

The low voice that rumbled from Steffin was almost unrecognizable.  “Easy friend.  There is no need for concern.”  Keeping his hands clearly visible, he slowly turned to the man behind him.  More of a kid really, he couldn’t be more than sixteen; probably just back from his mandatory tour with the Rangers.  Steffin knew the type, tough enough to be a threat and young enough to be unpredictable.  The kid’s eyes were locked on Steffin and they had a slightly glazed look.  After taking in a slow breath, Steffin continued speaking but now his voice took on a soft, almost sing-song quality.  “We’re all friends here, looking for a good time.  I’m not going to take anything from you.  Go watch some of the games.  Your turn is coming up soon.”

The young man relaxed and his face lit up with a gap-toothed smile.  He turned and walked into the pool hall without another word.  Steffin watched him go, his stance relaxed but way.  A low whistle made him turn back to the bar.

“Damn, Steff. It is always spooky watching you work.  You do have the Gift.”

Grinning back the bartender, Steffin added “the Gift of Grift.”

“Useful talent, that.  Let me go put your order in."  A few moments later, Steffin carried his mug of water to one of the puff seats on the wall.  He settled into the chair, a molded plast frame covered in a squishy cushion.   He shifted until the seat was comfortable but wouldn’t hinder his movements.  Then he took a slow sip of his drink and surveyed the room.  

He slowly brushed his hands down over the sides of his coat in a gesture that seemed casual, but reassured him that his possessions were all in place: a small pouch of cred-chits, a plast tube the length of his forearm and finally a hard plast box, eight inches by six inches.  The last was his prized possession, a flashbox, made for storing and displaying information.  He knew that long ago, it would have been called a computer, but the old tech had long-since vanished.  He wanted to take out the device and listen to some music or watch a holo-vid but showing such a valuable item here would only invite trouble. 

Like her.

His eyes locked onto a young woman in the corner to his right, staring down a flickering holographic image projected from the box on her lap.  He couldn’t make out her facial features but she had smooth brown skin, a few shades lighter than the bartender.  Her straight black hair was cut to just below her ears and Steffin could tell that it had been cut using scissors instead of a knife like that of most common folk. A few people looked at her and the valuable object on her lap with an eager expression, but no one approached.   That was when he noticed the emblem on her gray coat: two diamonds forming a downward “V” shape.

Few people in the 26th century would recognize the shape of a book, but they all knew the symbol for the Archivists, the mysterious and powerful keepers of knowledge and tech.  Back in his days as a Hunter, Steffin’s most profitable jobs had come from capturing anyone who accosted or stole from the Archivists.  In fact, his flashbox had come from one such job, when a group of raiders had robbed and murdered a traveling member of the order.  Even among the desperate and depraved, word of what happened to those who attacked an Archivist was well-known.

Taking another sip of water, Steffin began to relax when suddenly a shiver went up his spine, a feeling that usually that alerted him to danger.  He shifted in his seat and focused on the room around him.  Though he was by no means an “Observer”, he did possess a keen sense of hearing.  He brushed his fingers over his ears and suddenly, the sounds of the room magnified to almost painful levels.  Breathing slowly and evenly, he blocked out the sounds of chatter, clunking mugs, shuffling footsteps and crashing and clacking sounds from the pool hall.

He started to think his danger sense had been faulty, something that had occurred numerous times in the past.   But then a sound made him tense again, a soft steady hiss.  He focused on the sound until he pinpointed the source.  Along the wall, moving slowly between the door and the Archivist was a human-sized shape.  As Steffin watched, the hues of the person’s skin changed to blend with the wall behind them. 

The hissing sound was the focus used by assassin for the power of Camouflage.  All powers required the use of gestures or sounds, sometimes both.   “The eyes are the weakness”, the Hunter thought. “They can’t alter the whites of their eyes.”  Judging by the direction of the figure’s slow movement, its target was the Archivist.  Every instinct in his body told him that the young woman was in danger.  Moving slowly and deliberately, he shifted to the edge of his seat and slid his hand down to the hard plast cylinder strapped to his left leg, undid the straps and freed the weapon.

The color-shifted assassin was only eight feet from the distracted Archivist.  The figure edged closer and raised a hand, fingers curled into claws.  “A Slicer!” he thought with alarm.  He recognized that gesture and he knew that he had to act immediately.  He stood quickly, pulling his weapon out from under his coat.  With a quick flip of his wrist, the cylinder extended with a series of clicks into a staff, almost six feet long.  Then he lifted his right hand and snapped his fingers.

There was a soft pop in the air where he had been standing and in the blink of an eye, he was across the room, standing between the assassin and the target.  The sudden appearance of the Hunter made the assassin jump back in alarm and the sudden movement disrupted their concentration.   A swirl of shifting color revealed that the surprised attacker was a bald woman with pale skin.  Before Steffin could register any details of her appearance, the woman hissed loudly. Simultaneously, her skin changed to an inky black color while her arm began to blur forward, impossibly fast.  Steffin knew that he couldn’t block the attack, but that was one reason he wore such a heavy coat.  The fingers of her hand tore at the fabric, ripping it open in a set four long gashes from his left shoulder down across his chest.

Steffin snapped his fingers again and with another soft pop, he was behind her, already swinging his staff down at her exposed back.  Somehow, the woman managed to dodge the blow and Steffin overextended himself.  There was another rush of air as she whirled to face him and he felt a searing pain in his right arm as her knife-like fingers ripped open his coat to reach the skin underneath.  There was also a snapping sound and a cry of pain from the woman and Steffin knew that the she had paid a terrible price for her attack.  Slicers could move their hands and arms fast enough to rip through flesh and cloth, but anything more resilient could result in serious injuries such as broken bones, pulled muscles and dislocated joints.  Sometimes they used knives to lessen the potential damage but the woman’s use of stealth prevented her from concealing a weapon.

Her eyes became tiny slits as she glared at Steffin.  “Bastard! You’ll pay for meddling with my task.”  She made a clicking sound with her tongue and she was suddenly gone!  

“Damnit!  She’s a Speedster!” the Hunter growled to himself as whirled around, looking wildly for any sign of the woman.  She had to be close!  A pop could only be done within line of sight and over short distances.
“There!” a voice shouted from behind him.   He glanced over his shoulder at the Archivist and saw her pointing toward the pool hall.  His head snapped around in that direction but he saw nothing.  

“What are you talking…” he began ask incredulously, but then he spotted it.  In the rafters, a shape was flitting from one heavy beam to another.  Her skin had changed to the same color as the ceiling, but the sudden movements made her visible.  He snapped his fingers and, Pop!  He was in the pool hall.  He jumped up and with another snap and a pop, he was in the rafters as well.  He repeated the same pattern in quick succession: jump, snap, pop as he followed the woman across the heavy wooden beams but unfortunately, she had a head start and the ability to blend into her surroundings.

After his third pop, he paused to look around wildly to find his quarry, but there was no sign of her.  He listened for the hiss or click that accompanied her use of her powers, but all he could hear was the wild pounding of his heartbeat and the excited murmurs of the crowd below.  Then he spotted something that made him groan softly: an open window.  He watched the rafters for almost an entire minute while straining his enhanced hearing as much as he could.  Finally he grumbled to himself and turned to look down at the ground for a safe place to pop down.  

He shifted his grip on the wooden beam and winced at the sharp pain in his arm. On his upper arm, a red stain was spreading where she had landed her attack. “Damnit, I loved this coat,” he muttered.   After taking a slow, steadying breath, he put his staff away with a smooth, practiced motion. When he looked down again, he spotted the Archivist in the large archway between the hall and the bar.  She met his eyes and said softly, “thank you” before turning away.  

Another snap of his fingers and in the blink of an eye, he was standing on the floor.  The patrons looked at him with either awe or fear, but they all backed quickly away from him.  Most of them knew there was nothing more dangerous than a Hunter who had to abandon the chase.  He went straight to the bar and met the concerned gaze of bartender.  Without a word, the man set two small glasses of clear liquid on the bar and spoke in a low voice, “one to drink and one to clean the wound.”


“Thanks, Keve.  I think I may need them.”  He downed one of the shots with a shudder.  After a quick shake of his head, he turned to look for the woman he had saved, but she had disappeared as well.  “I’m going to need some answers too.”

Wow!  One Year has gone by since I updated this blog.   Time to change all that.  Writing is something I love, not only for myself but to share it with others.  I've completed two novels and have two more in various stages of completion.  I've done almost a novel's worth of writing for one of the D&D campaigns I recently played in.  And to top it off, I've written one of the longest Psych fanfic series in existence.  Even won an Award from Psychfic.com!

I love connecting with fans and hearing that people like what I do, but I lost sight of the main reason I do it: for Me!  So, I hope that you all enjoy what comes next, but no matter what, I'm going to keep at it!

Speaking of Life and Death

This is the opening scene of another novel idea I've got lurking around in my brain.  I won't get into details (mainly because I really haven't worked them out) but here is what I pushed out of my feverish little brain.  I'd love to know what you think!

In the dimly-lit alley, a woman hunched over a smoking withered husk of what used to be a human being. A faint violet aura surrounded her body as she gasped for breath. Her shoulders shook with silent throes of anger and sadness. Why did the man attack her? Didn’t he see the emblem on her cloak? Did he think it was a forgery?

Slowly, she straightened and fought to slow her breathing. The shimmering glow faded from around her until the only traces of light shone in her eyes which she closed while inhaling deeply. She pushed the air from her lungs and when she opened her eyes again, they were tiny circles of dull black that stood in sharp contrast to the whites. Her skin was pale and flushed, covered with a light sheen of sweat. Shaking back jet black hair down around her shoulders, she looked around for any other threat.

The cobblestone streets were dark and silent with an unnatural stillness. Such was the after-effects of an attack by a Lifetaker. The woman’s pale gray cloak was unadorned except for a black flame rising from a disk of gold done in fine embroidery over her left breast. The thick fabric did little to hide her slim athletic.

Footsteps echoed in the eerie silence and she turned to see another man in the entrance to the alleyway. To her sensitive eyes, his aura blazed with heat and life, so bright it forced her to squint and shield her gaze. The light of the living was always so much harder to see after she had taken a life.

"Are you okay miss?" He held a lantern aloft but to her it was like holding a candle next to the sun. He hissed a sharp breath as his light spilled over the smoldering corpse and he fumbled for the short sword at his waist. His hand paused as his eyes fell on the emblem on her cloak. He dropped suddenly to one knee and bowed his head. "I am sorry, Life-taker. I did not realize..." His voice trailed off with a slight tremor of fear.

The woman looked down on the man as her eyes adjusted to the glare of his aura. She noted the shield embroidered on his cloak which matched the emblem on his leather scabbard. "No apology is needed, constable. I was attacked but as you can see, the criminal has been dealt with."

"Would you care for an escort, my Lady? Are you going to the temple?"

Was she going there? She wrestled with the urge to flee the city with all of its unbearable vitality. The sheer amount of Life surrounding her was like floundering in an ocean, but she knew she had no choice. The Temple of Darkness was an island of peace in the middle of the sea, a refuge. If she did not go there soon, she would likely drown.

"Yes, Constable. Thank you for your assistance. Lead on."

Jazhir No More

I'm in the process of moving all of my entries for Jazhir the Bard to a new blog.  I realize that few people who read this blog would be interested in the writings of a D&D character, so the journal is getting its own home.  If anyone does want to follow that story, feel free to do so at the following:

http://jazhir-jwgrace.blogspot.com/

I'll get back to posting more news about my novels and such on this blog.  Now I just need to get back into writing on those projects.  Kholtosh and Dinah both need some closure!!

-JWG

Jazhir's Journal (Something Different)

Hi there everyone!  It's been a while since I added anything here and for that, I apologize.  Between the holidays, a bit of writer's block and some other issues, I wasn't really getting a lot of writing done.  I recently started gaming (D&D) with a new group and something clicked.  I usually create fairly elaborate backgrounds for the characters that I play and my newest addition was no exception.

His name is Jazhir ibn Faheed and he is a Rawun, an Arabic-style bard.  After our first game, I decided to keep a journal of the events of game sessions.  Here is the first set of entries and I'll warn you, this post is rather long\.  There is an introduction which goes over his back story, but I'm going to leave that out for now.  If you're one of my fellow players from the game, I hope I didn't butcher anything TOO much.  If anything is really wrong, let me know and I'll make edits.

So begins Jazhir's Journal:

Entry 1: Something New

My day started like many others: cleaning my master’s lab, studying in the library, practicing my sword work in the courtyard.  Oslo called me to his study and after getting cleaned up, I went to see him.  On the table behind him, I noticed an odd assortment of carefully-packed equipment suitable for long journeys.  After getting my attention again (no small task, I assure you) he explained what he wanted me to do. 

Now, Oslo is old.  I don’t mean “elderly”.  I mean OLD, like a musty tome, faded, tattered and covered in dust.  He had me around his castle seemingly to do his bidding in return for teaching me about magic.  (Not that I really had a choice in the matter, of course.)  One of his former apprentice’s had been doing research into magic that could ease the wizard’s aching bones but they hadn’t been in contact for almost two years.  Oslo wanted me to meet him and retrieve whatever information I could.

The apprentice’s name was Fennic and he lived in a small village as a hedge-wizard, which means he helped make sure crops and livestock were healthy.  He also preformed magic to improve the weather and to make life better for the villagers in general.  That kind of life sounded pretty boring to me, but I decided not to judge; I had a job to do. 

Besides basic provisions, Oslo gave me two other items of interest.  First was an old battered-looking satchel that was enchanted with magic that preserved anything placed inside.  He wanted me to collect any interesting reagents that could be used for alchemical and magical experiments.  He especially wanted the hearts and other organs from live sentient creatures: goblins, orcs, and the like.  When I started to protest, he assured me that he did not expect me to go on a wanton killing spree, but if I happened to be required to defend myself from such beings, he wanted to make sure nothing went to waste.  Oslo is not an evil man; just practical and always looking to increase his knowledge.  This, more than anything, has put me at ease with him.

The other item he gave me was a bracelet, gold and crusted with small diamonds and sapphires.  The days of travelling with my father replayed in my mind and I found myself pondering its worth.  Oslo explained that in a few days’ time, he would teleport me back to his castle to report what I had found.  The magic within the bracelet would serve as a link to my location.  If I found someplace to hide the bracelet or, better yet, found someone to wear it, I could be teleported back to where I had been transported from.

Oslo instructed me to finish my preparations for the journey.   I dressed in my bland, but well-made travelling clothes, but I packed a few extra outfits as well.  Clothing is important.  They allow you to blend into places and keep people at ease.  I find that sometimes, the simplest disguise is changing the clothes on your back.  I also readied my weapons: a short bow over my back; a dagger tucked into a concealed sheath on my wrist; on my belt, the curved jambiya that my father gave me and finally, my grandfather’s scimitar. 

Lastly, I secured my most prized possession: a straight, slender rod of polished oak; tapered to a point and ringed with bands of silver at the thicker end.  It was a wand that let me cast a spell to completely disguise my appearance.  I absolutely love wands.  This, I tucked into another sheath on my left wrist.

Now, I must go back to Oslo and have my body sent through a magical vortex to a far-off land that I’ve never seen before to make discoveries, meet new people, and collect treasures and stories.  I must admit, I really love my life.

Entry 2: A Cozy Little Village

I am currently sitting in my room at the tavern in Fennic’s village.  It has been an eventful day as you will see by this entry.  Tomorrow should be even more interesting.

I appeared on a well-maintained road and off in the distance was a set of small buildings that turned out to be the village served by Fennic.  Recalling the maps in Oslo’s library, I was impressed by the range and accuracy of my master.   The street was hushed and deserted with the exception of a glowering half-orc wielding what was either a very large crossbow or a small ballista.  He glared at me suspiciously, but I smiled at him and walked toward what was obviously a tavern.

The inside was clean and rustic but had a pleasant, homey atmosphere.  Some old-timers were playing cards in one corner of the large common room.  The only other patron was a young blonde girl.  I looked again and realized that she was actually a Halfling.  Her clothing and equipment made it clear that she was traveler like me.  The food smelled quite good but I had a feeling that I wouldn’t be able to eat some of the rustic fare.

The barmaid came over to my table and confirmed that most of their food was pork-based (which I do not eat).  They had a vegetable platter and bread and the ale was surprisingly good.  I chatted with the woman, who was well into her mature years, but still attractive and well-endowed.  The general news about the town was alarming: the dead were rising and attacking townspeople.  The cleric of the local temple was unable to do anything to affect these things.

When I asked what Fennic was doing about it, she confirmed my worst fears: Fennic was dead.  He passed away months earlier, seemingly of a heart attack.  I was immediately suspicious and my concerns grew as I learned that the “undead” appeared right around the same time that he died.  I asked if Fennic had any enemies in town and learned that he did his job very well and was respected in the community.  He helped everyone in town with improving the weather to help crops and driving away predators from the livestock.  Even the tavern had an enchanted mouse trap in the kitchen.

After brunch and securing one of the two rooms available, I introduced myself to the Halfling girl (who had taken the other room).  Her name was Lily and though I got the impression that she was a thief, I found myself trusting her immediately – almost as if we were meant to travel together.  We shared a drink and talked about what was going on in the town.  Curiosity was obviously a trait we both shared.

As we talked, another interesting person entered the tavern, a dwarf who had obviously been traveling by foot, judging by the dust on his well-worn boots.  He was armed with a spear and had a pair sticks tucked into his belt which marked him as either a stick-fighter or a drummer.  He ordered food and ale (of course – he’s a dwarf!) and asked about a room.   The innkeeper told him that Lily and I had the rooms and soon after that, he joined us at our table.

His name was Fasa and he had traveled here from Storm Guard because the cleric of the town posted a job about clearing away the undead problem.  Being a noble and adventurous sort, he was here to do the job, which paid a nice sum of gold and some healing potions.  Since we were all interested in finding out what was happening (and because I suspected it might have something to do with Fennic’s death), we agreed to work together.

Later in the evening, the tavern got very crowded as the townsfolk arrived to drink and socialize.  I told some stories and earned another meal and some spare coin.  I find that people are always more willing to talk to you after you’ve entertained them.  One of the older men in the crowd had recently been visited by the undead.  It had walked onto his farm and killed a pig with a wooden axe and dragged it off into the woods.  What was even more interesting was that the thing looked like a neighbor’s son who had died years ago, but he looked as healthy as he did when he was alive.

A brief brawl between two young men (over irrigation methods of all things!) was broken up by the half-orc sheriff.  Other than that, nothing else of note occurred so Lily and I went off to our rooms while Fasa settled himself by the fire.  Tomorrow, the three of us are going to check Fennic’s hut and then look in on Farmer Joe and his missing pig.

Hmm, there seems to be someone rattling my window…

No one there.  Whoever it was, they weren’t very determined.

Entry 3: The Hedgewizard’s Hut

I met Lily and Fasa in the common room and discussed our plans over breakfast.  It was a brief put pleasant meal but I think we were all eager to be on our way.  Following directions supplied by the innkeep and his wife, we made our way down the road out of town and north along a faint trail.  We ended up at a run-down looking one-room hut.  Definitely not the place one would expect to find a wizard of any skill or power.

Knowing that things are often not what they appear to be, I shifted my senses to detect for magic.  As expected, there was powerful magic on the house.  Well, to be exact, the door.  Following an impulse (which I do with somewhat alarming regularity) I went to the door and said, “Oslo sent me.”  Immediately, the door swung open to reveal…

A run-down looking one-room hut.   We all looked carefully around the inside but everything was completely as it seemed: dusty floor, fire pit with cooking utensils, a small dining table and chair.  Everything looked well used, but where were the wizardly implements?  Where was the library full of scrolls and books?  Where did he sleep?

Lily noticed something out of place.  Foot traffic in the dust revealed that Fennic really didn’t move around this room very much.  Just back and forth from the door.  And that is when it hit me – the magic on the door was much more powerful than a magical trap or alarm.   I closed the door, said “lab” and opened it again.

And stared at a block of solid stone and the passive face of a gargoyle.   It opened its eyes and spoke.  “You are not the master or an invited guest.”  I asked what sort of guests the master entertained and it answered “beautiful, nubile women”.  It seems that Fennic was a bit of a Lech.  Following another impulse, I closed the door, retrieved my wand and disguised myself as a “beautiful, nubile woman.”  It’s not the first time I’ve done that.  Sometimes women can enter places a man cannot.

I opened the door and asked to enter but the gargoyle refused again.  It told me that I was wearing too much clothing.  Correction, Fennic was quite a Lech.  Or maybe the gargoyle was…  Either way, I closed the door, adjusted my disguise to be nude and opened the door again.  This time the gargoyle swung back and allowed me to enter.  I looked back at my companions.  Lily shrugged and got undressed.  Small though she may be; she is definitely both beautiful and nubile.  Fasa declined and said that he would wait in the main room.

The lab was a fascinating place and I found a number of interesting items:  a jar of vampire dust, some gemstones and powdered diamond, a scroll of Summon Nymph (LECH!) and finally, Fennic’s research notes for a spell to easy aching bones through a mix of Necromancy and Transmutation.  I also found his spellbook which spawned a mouth that shouted, “I was fucking poisoned!” as soon as I touched it.

We checked for other rooms, trying different names.  His bedroom had a bed that could comfortably sleep a moderate-sized family and I was covered in rich furs.  I went through his extensive and eclectic wardrobe and assembled an outfit fit for any noble.  We also found some items of note that he would no longer need: magic rings, a robe, earrings, and a staff.  I knew that Oslo would be able to identify them, so we stored them safely away.

His Pantry was well stocked but uninteresting.  Same was true for his Bathroom (though, we were all very interested in trying his tub).  There were four other rooms which held a number of surprises.  His Den had an incredible number of books on stories and histories.  It also had maps and some notes tracking the site of ancient ruins and another set regarding a string of recent murders where the victims were all magi.  I selected a few books of stories including one from my homeland and another ancient volume of elven tales.

His Library was protected by another gargoyle and informed us that only Fennic could pass.  Having been shown images of the man by my master, I placed another Illusion over myself and entered.  It was stocked with an impressive collection of tomes of magic and arcane research.  I selected one volume that contained spells developed by students at Radashil’s Academy of Magic.  I thought Oslo might find it interesting.

It took some trial and error until we found his Study and here we found records detailing his interactions with the townsfolk: what he did for them and what he received from them in return.

The last and probably most important room that we found was the Vault.   Lily wanted to go charging in, after checking for traps, which we found.  Fasa stepped in and triggered a trap she didn’t spot and lost a good chunk of his spear in the process.  After looking at the long hallway, covered in colorful tiles and flanked by a number of suits of armor which radiated strong magic and seeing the massive door with its equally massive set of nine locks, we all decided it would be best to leave this room alone.

We’re sitting down to some lunch before we head over to Famer Joe’s place to investigate the murder and theft of his pig.

Entry 4: The Bone Eaters

I’m currently sitting in the massive over-stuffed chair in Fennic’s den and thinking over of the events of the day.  Lily diced me for the use of the bedroom, but she won.  Fasa is curled up on the floor by the fire in the main room.  I can’t complain, however, this chair is quite comfortable.

We left the Hut in afternoon, determined to find answers to the “undead” problem before nightfall.  It didn’t take long to reach Joe’s farm.  The village really isn’t that big. The old man showed us the pen where his pig had been.  He gave us the wooden axe, still crusted with the animal’s blood.  His description of the man made it unlikely that he was really what he seemed.  His neighbor’s son had died three years previous but the man’s appearance was the same as when he was alive.  Not likely that it was a zombie.

Then Lily and Fasa found tracks.  Ghosts and the like don’t leave tracks, or wield wooden axes, or kill pigs and drag the body back into the woods.  Following the trail, it led to a cave in a hillside, which was directly behind the cemetery, which was next to the temple.  We all thought it would be nice to actually get paid to do the job we were about to do.  We spoke with the cleric, a lovely lady named Sheila who was quite surprised that there was someone or something living behind the cemetery.  She agreed to pay us the gold and healing potions and to also heal of us any injuries sustained in dealing with the problem.  (Which was sorely needed as you’ll soon read.)

We went back to the cave and Lily stealthily scouted the entrance.  This is, of course, an understatement.  I think that a gnat would have been more noticeable than her.  She spotted traps set up inside the small cave.  Squatting around the meager, she saw four hunched figures wearing tattered loincloths.  When she described the things to me, I had no idea what they were, but we quickly came up with a plan.

I used my minor telekinetic magic to drag the bear trap on the left side of the entrance to the right side.  Lily went into the cave to spring the second trap, a swinging spiked branch, when the occupants were in position.  Fasa climbed up over the cave mouth where he could attack with his spear.  My part in the plan was to draw the creatures out into the open so I formed an Illusion of Farmer Joe, pitchfork in hand and hid in the bushes behind the phantasm.

Adopting an accent from this region, I began calling out to the “pig-stealing bastards”.  Lily saw what happened in the cave and related it to us later.  Each of the squat beings grabbed bones off the floor and chewed on them.  As they consumed the remains they took on the appearance of the former owner of said bone.   They headed out of the cave and one got stuck in the bear trap.  Lily sprang the other trap and injured two others and the fight was on in earnest.

I drew two of them out to Joe’s image and focused my concentration on keeping their attention as long as I could.   Fasa attacked one from above which began to climb up after him.  But the two still in the cave went after Lily.  I didn’t want to leave her without any help so with a final distraction from my phantom farmer; I rushed out and attacked with my scimitar.

Now, I’d like to say that I was dazzlingly effective but that would be a lie.  I’ve been training in combat, but not extensively.  I slashed and cut one of the attackers until Fasa jumped down and helped take my opponent down.  We turned on the other that was now climbing back down from the rocks and dispatched it.  About the same time, Lily walked nonchalantly out of the cave, with barely a scratch on her.  Glancing inside there was one corpse riddled with arrows (which she borrowed from me!) and a second smoldering and sputtering near the fire.

The combat wasn’t pretty, but we got the job done and so, we returned to Sheila in the temple.  After paying us, she examined the bodies and recognized them as Pasacha, which happen to be smaller, less intelligent cousins to the powerful and evil race of feline shapeshifters known as Rakshasa.  The creatures could innately detect magic and were drawn to those who could wield arcane power.   I surmised that these must have been the creatures responsible for the deaths of the magi between here and Storm Guard, probably even Fennic.  (All they would have to do is appear as a beautiful and nubile girl and he would let them right into his home.)

So after getting healed, we headed back to the tavern for a night of celebration.  We dealt with a pair of would-be thieves who were following some kind of "Adventurer's Correspondence Course".  I think I may have to look into the publisher of those guides - they are rather ingenious.  

Afterwards, we retired to Fennic’s hut which brings me back to the present here in my master’s former apprentice’s study.  I think I’ll grab another book of tales and read until I fall asleep.