Nanowrimo stuff, Preparation etc

[Flailing Axes]

Poor Mr.Crazy. *gives e-medicine*

get better soon.

[Lord Blackstaff]

Thanks Flaxes. Bleeeugh. Got so many antibiotics in me, this sickness HAS to die.

Anyways, first bit's up now. Enjoy. I'm opting for a slow start, as the story is going to be a very long one. I could easily take it through quite a few Nano's:

Unusual Beginnings

'Ask him to find me an acre of land,' The voice of a woman wafted though the house, carrying with it an intangible sense of... something. Loss? Sadness? Regret? Joy? Jorsi couldn't say. Frowning slightly he got up from his comfortable armchair and started walking towards to front door.
'Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme,' The song continued it's sweet tune, something glittered in Jorsi's eyes, though one could tell little in his square features. He hummed a little of the tune as he paused at the door.
'Between the salt water and the sea-sand,' The voice of the woman was clear, and in a way, quite beautiful. Jorsi grimaced and leaned against the wall, his face clouding with indecision.
'For then he'll be a true love of mine.' Jorsi's hand twitched towards the door, then away.

There was a long silence as the last words of the line faded through the door. Then the woman's song picked up again, 'Are you going to Scarborough Fair?' and Jorsi gently grasped the door handle after a moment more of indecision, and opened the door.

A petit woman stood in the doorway, her plain, somewhat unadorned face looked at once hopeful and incredibly conflicted. They looked at each other for a long long moment. Though in reality Jorsi just stood frozen, whether it was surprise or shock, you couldn't tell.
“Scarborough Fair.” Jorsi said, “Fitting.” And he opened the door wide and stepped aside, his expression betraying little of what was going on inside. “It... it is good to see you again Anya, I hope you can stay...” He said tentatively.
Anya smiled her lovely, caring smile at him and stepped inside the house. “Maybe, Jorsi. Maybe.”

She slid her large trenchcoat off and handed it to Jorsi, who carefully hung it on a nearby rack and followed her as she made her way down the hallway. The ‘house’ was less of a house and more of a mansion, victorian era, Jorsi had inherited it from his now deceased parents. Actually it only looked like one, it was a victorian era cottage, and by mansion standards, quite small.
It had a very homey, cosy feel to it and lovely rosewood walls. Paintings of family members and landscapes lined the walls. The accumulated possessions of family life could be seen stacked neatly on sculpted tables and similar surfaces. Though Jorsi had cleaned a lot out of the house some years after his parent’s deaths, he had kept a goodly amount of their possessions nevertheless. They helped to make the house seem, well, like a home.

The pair arrived in the living room, which was currently covered in an assorted array of papers, maps, item listings, thick tomes pertaining to some strange pieces of arcane information, and goodness knows what else.

Ayna frowned slightly at the mess, which covered some very lovely antique armchairs. Then examined one particular book sitting on the low table sitting in the middle of everything. She brushed the cover lightly, then picked it up. It read simply, “Firthe.”

Jorsi plucked it out of her hands and she looked at him in surprise, “Soon,” he said, and took several maps off of her favourite armchair. “Tea?” he asked. She nodded, “The usual?” She nodded again as she sat down gratefully. Jorsi left for the kitchen and silence settled on the room. The ticking of the ancient mechanical clocks could be heard, steadily telling the time, Jorsi was methodical about those sorts of things.

What held Anya’s attention wasn’t the room though; she had lived here for years as his wife, before she had left; her attention was on the papers that had found their way everywhere. It had been years since he had been this productive as a GM, something seemed to have captured his imagination once again. The firey creativity that she’d so loved had also been their undoing.

She sighed, she didn’t know what to make of it, he was shocked, no doubt about that, but to come back to him beginning a GM session; one of the very reasons she had left in the first place, was more than a little annoying.

She examined a nearby map, it read, “Jewel Islands” in Jorsi’s careful map script and showed a series of islands in a chain. About 14 in all, all carefully rendered and detailed to the last tree. She recognised that name... It was from the world he had always spoken of. The one that had seemed to grip him and never let go. Sometimes it had burned in him like a fever, a fire wanting to be let out. It was one of those things that had made him both intrigueing and exasperating. It was eventually something she had just accepted as a part of the Jorsi bundle. Warts and all.

She smiled faintly and rubbed her eyes tiredly, so he was letting it out at last. Perhaps it would grant him some freedom, now that he did not have so much pressure building within. She hoped so, there would be other changes, ones she couldn’t predict, but at least Jorsi might be willing to notice her more. He was the love of her life still, and she had found she couldn’t live without him, but it hurt when he spent so much time in a world.

Jorsi walked in carrying two mugs, handing one to her before sitting down. His ancient chair creaked as it accepted his weight. There was a moment of silence as the two of them sat and drank their tea, stewing in their own thoughts. Then Jorsi spoke, he was tentative, “I suppose you have a reason for coming, then.”

Anya nodded, and wondered how much of truth she could say. She looked into his eyes, and saw, for the first time in over a year, a deep, deep love. The truth then. “I couldn’t live without you.” She said. She wanted to say more, to explain things, to talk, to ramble. To say anything. But she found she couldn't say anything.

Jorsi nodded, “You are free to stay as long as you wish,” he paused for a moment, then seemed to steel himself, “Beloved.”

Anya warmed at his use of that old name. It was the one he had always called her, and he had always said it with such warmth, such love. That did not seem to have changed. She smiled warmly at him, and he smiled faintly back, as if he was flexing muscles he hadn’t used in a long time.

She indicated the papers strewn about the room. “You are letting your world free at last I see.” she said.

Jorsi nodded, “I am running a campaign in it, to test how far I’ve gotten.”

“This had better not interfere with the rest-” Anya began, but was interupted when Jorsi shook his. “I have learned.” he said.

Anya closed her mouth, but her expression said, ‘we shall see.’

Jorsi nodded his acceptance. “The troupe will be coming, Phil, Pas, Sarah, Dave, Jacko, and Sarah said she’d bring her girlfriend along as well.” he said.

Anya raised an eyebrow, “Sarah has a girlfriend?”

Jorsi nodded, “Yes, and Pascal doesn’t know yet.”

Anya smirked faintly, “This could get interesting. Do you know anything about her?”

Jorsi shook his head, “Other than that she likes knives, leather, and outdoor activities. And something about Ju-Jitsu, apparently she almost hero worships batman.”

Anya’s eyebrows couldn't have gone any higher, “Thats... Unexpected. Sarah usually isn’t into hardass people, and I didn’t think she was into chicks till now.” She chuckled, “The world will forever surprise me.”

There was a loud clanking sound from the door. “That would be Pascal. He gets an inordinate amount of pleasure banging the doorknocker.” Jorsi said as he got up. Anya followed him.

It was indeed Pascal at the door; the lean IT consultant and PhD researcher had a silly little grin on his face as he let the doorknocker fall quiet. “I gotta say man. I love bangin’ that lion every time I come here.” He said with a completely straight face, “So, ya gonna let me in, or are we LARPing?” he asked, rubbing his hands together. Jorsi smiled faintly, and opened the door wide. Pascal squinted, “Hey! Mon Dieu! Did you just smile?” He laughed, “Halelujah! What’s the occasion?!” He looked around eagerly then froze.
“Anya? Anya!” He shouted, and enveloped her in a bear hug, “Little Aunty! Fortune has struck a new wind! You have returned! Boy it is good to see you!” He was talking somewhere near mach one, and it was somewhat difficult to catch what he was saying.

“Ooof.” Was all Anya managed. When he finally released her, she smiled up at him and patted him on the chest. “Nice to see you too dear. You’re the first to arrive.” She said finally, and led the way down the hall.

“So you’re here to stay? You gonna join the game? Where were you? Why’d you leave? Heck! Why’d you come back?” Pascal was firing off questions so fast Anya just held up a finger for silence and said, “One at a time dear. My brain doesn’t work as fast as yours, so slow down a bit please.”

She eased back into her favourite chair, “Now, as to your questions. Some I will answer now. And some I will answer later.” she said firmly.

Pascal nodded, “Fair enough, Little Aunty.”

“Tea? Coffee?” Jorsi asked.

“Tea, that Lipton stuff if you have it. Otherwise normal. Thanks.” Pascal answered distractedly. Jorsi nodded. He and Anya would talk when she was ready. You didn’t hurry her.

Anya sat for a long few moments thinking. Then looked at Pascal, who was beginning to look impatient, “I am here to stay-”

“Yeah! I totally won the bet!” Pascal punched the air and whooped, the looked downcast, “Sorry, Auntsy, you weren't supposed to know that.”

Anya gave him a long look of disapproval till he started squirming, then smirked faintly, “I expected you would try something like that. Now to your questions, yes, I will be joining your game. And that’s all I’ll answer.”

Pascal looked brighter, then scowled. “Dammit. I hate it when you go all evasive and pull mind games on me.”

“Ahhh, but that makes it all the more fun.” Anya murmured as she took another sip of her tea and looked at him over the brim.

[Lord Blackstaff]

Aaaand continuing. Slow as usual. But I'm sick, and there's little point straining myself. I don't really care what you say, since I'm not editing till December. Enjoy, comments are always appreciated either way.



“Hmph. Dave’s the mind games type, not me. I prefer it if you let me read you like a book and leave it at that.” Pascal said.

Anya just smiled at him mysteriously and took another sip of her tea. He scowled.

“Your tea.” Jorsi said, entering the room and handing a steaming mug to Pascal.

“Thanks. I’d rather not find out what more coffee would do to my system.” Pascal said gratefully.

“Hnh. If you slept more, you might not need so much coffee.” Jorsi said as the doorbell rang. He walked off to recieve whoever was at the door.

“Sleep is for weeklings. I am leet! I need no sleep!” Pascal cried to Jorsi’s retreating back.

“When you start hallucinating. Tell me. I want to document them. They would be very interesting.” Anya said.

Pascal muttered something about test bunnies and bloody killing before taking a sip of his tea. Anya just raised a slender eyebrow and said nothing. Pascal had a habit of talking about things nobody could ever guess about.

“Hark! It is I! Sir Redmond, of Redmond Hall! May you all bow before my mag- ow! Wadju do that for?!” There was a loud declamation from the corridor, a smack, and a few more choice words.

“Merde! That little twink is here again?” Pascal said.

Anya looked at him reprovingly, “He just takes roleplaying a bit more seriously then you do, play nice.” she said.

Pascal made a face, but cleared up as a beafy redhead entered the room flanked by a shorter, and somewhat smaller young man. His handsome, but somewhat empty expression, and rich bards clothing - complete with an authentic lute - said he was the roleplayer in question.

“Phil! Good to see you!” Said Pascal, his face lighting up. Phil grinned and they shook hands warmly.

“You too ol’ buddy. How’ve things been?” Phil asked.

“Good, and they got better when I came here.” Pascal answered.

“Oh? How so?” Phil asked.

Pascal just nodded to Anya’s chair, which had its back to the entry hallway. Phil’s eyes widened. “Anya!” He said.

A slender arm deposited a mug on the nearby table and Anya stood up. “That would be correct gentlemen, I have returned... to stay.” She said with her usual effeminate poise.

“Welcome back!” Phil beamed down at her and gently took her hand in the two of his, “I cannot say how much we have missed you.” he said.

She smiled at him and dipped her head, “Thank you.”

“My Lady! You have returned! Safe and unharmed! Truly this is a wondrous day for us all!” Cried the handsome young man as he knelt and kissed her other hand fervently.

Anya looked surprised, but had the grace to not grab her hand back and smile at him warmly. “Thank you Jacko, dear. But the roleplaying hasn’t started yet, you can talk like a normal person.” she said.

Jacko turned red, “Oh, right. Yes, I forget sometimes.” he said.

“Don't we all.” Pascal rolled his eyes. Phil chuckled.

“Well, now that the initial jubilation is over. Would anybody like tea or coffee? I’ll bring out food a bit later, after the rest have arrived.” Jorsi said.

Phil shook his head and Jacko wrinkled his nose, “I don’t know how you drink that stuff.”

Jorsi shrugged, “Have a seat, make space if you have to. I’ve been preparing, as you can see.” he said, sweeping his arm around the cluttered living room and bookshelves stacked with books of all kinds.

“Yes... Yes I can see that indeed.” Phil said with quite some interest as he found a seat on one of the large leather couches. “This is your world I take it. And why you weren't letting anyone over for the last two weeks.”

Jorsi just nodded. Anya frowned, “I hope you've been taking care of yourself, Jorsi.” she said reprovingly.

Phil waved a negligent hand, “As of two months ago, he’s taken better care of himself and this house then most of us have. Before that...” he shrugged, “Well, it was pretty touch and go, and I’ll leave it at that.” he said.

Anya managed to look mollified and horrified at the same time as a few choice facts seemed to start filtering in on her. She recovered by taking a sip of tea.

Phil picked up one of the maps. “Firthe.” He read out.

“It's actually Fur-the.” Jorsi corrected.

“Firthe. Interesting. Taken from that Scottish word for that land river thing I take it?” Phil asked.

Jorsi nodded, “In a way it’s representative of something being counter cultural. Clashing against the norm, but in a small way.” he said.

Phil shrugged, “It’s a cool name, and it seems... fitting.” he said, and picked up another map.

“It took a while to decide on that name, I’ve deliberated for some time. It fit, and I don't really want to change it. So it’ll have to stick.” he said.

“You've been very thorough, but I’m not entirely sure these geographical features can coexist. Deserts don't go well with forests.” Said Phil.

“Koethe.” Jorsi said.

“Koethe?” Phil asked. “Is this your magic system?”

Jorsi nodded, “Koethe, it touches all, it binds all, it balances all. What would normally apply in our world cannot apply in that one. That area in particular is the result of a curse.”

“That was one hell of a curse to knock out a coupla hundred square kilometres worth of life!” Phil said.

Jorsi smiled faintly, “It was made to protect one hell of a loot stash.”

“Hmph. Loot. The stuff that makes the world go round.” Phil murmered, then jumped and pointed, “Oh! We are soooo checking Halden’s Keep!” He cried. The others looked at him quizzically. Jorsi smiled faintly again. “If a keep is named, and it’s clearly standing on one of the few passes over a border, and looks extremely defensible it means that not only will there be a big battle over it, but there will also be lots of looting and xp afterwards. Simple rpg logic.”

“You may get an opportunity to stand on it’s battlements... if you’re lucky, and quick.” Jorsi said ambiguously.

The doorbell rang. Jorsi checked his watch, “That would be Sarah and co.” He got up to handle to door.

Phil picked up another map, “This is immaculate, once you get over the seemingly illogical placing of environments and terrains things seem so... fitting. Jorsi really has crafted a world out of those ideas of his. I’m going to look forward to tramping through this land. It’s a reimagining of a genre that’s stagnated for years without a proper boost.” he looked up at Anya, “You have to make sure he gets this into print. I don't think I've seen fantasy like this since Tolkien. And Tolkien isn’t exactly read to entertain by a lot of people.” he said fervently.

Anya gave him an unreadable look over her tea mug, “We shall see how it turns out. I don't want another repeat of last time.” she said carefully.

“Ho! Believe me Anya. None. Of us want a repeat of last time.” Pascal said with vigour, emphasising the ‘none’.

“Aya, twould be a terrible tragedy were such events to befall us again.” Said Jacko with equal fervour.

Anya gave them her warm smile, but said nothing.

Jorsi entered the room flanked by a somewhat practical looking, if good looking, young lady and a young woman dressed in a leather jacket, a rather low cut shirt and a pair of well fitting women’s jeans. The hilts of two knives poked up from a pair of hiking boots and hefty looking hunting knife from a thick leather belt.

Anya got up to see the newcomers, gave the leather clad lady a brief glance before gliding over to the other one, “Sarah, so good to see you dear.”

Sarah let out a squeal of joy and hugged Anya tightly, “We’ve missed you soooo much! Where were you?! Why didn’t you call?!” She was nearly as talkative as Pascal had been.

“Shhh dear. All in good time.” Anya said, “Tell me, who is this companion you've brought along?” she asked.

“Oh right, guys, this is Tessa, Tessa, meet my rpg group. Minus one.” Sarah started making introductions, “That’s Phil, our resident trivia nut.”

“Welcome lady in leather. You are sporting serrated backed hunting knife, practical.” Phil said.

“That’s Pascal, our local tech geek.” Pascal gave Tessa a long appraising look.

“Welcome, we could do with a few who know how to use martial arts.” he said. Tessa blinked, Pascal smiled, “You’re in a defensive stance I recognise, lets leave it at that.”

Tessa seemed to shift her weight slightly with a surprised look on her face. She was actually quite striking, even without makeup she was quite good looking. Some might venture a beautiful.

“That’s Jacko, our roleplayer, and local performing arts student.”

“Well met, good lady. I hope your tongue is as fair as your visage.” he said in his usual roundabout manner.

“And you've already met Jorsi, and this is his wife, Anya. A very good friend of all of us who’s only just returned from god knows where.” Sarah finished.

Tessa gave everybody a thin smile and looked for somewhere to sit. Jorsi calmly folded a few sheets containing bestiary drawings off of a nearby couch.

“Tea, Coffee?” he asked. Tessa shook her head.

“Tea, of course.” Sarah said, and found a seat next to Tessa. Something seemed to be clicking in Pascal’s head at that moment, and his expression was becoming a good deal more impassive by the second.

“So this is the famed tea, swords and sorcery group I’ve heard so much about.” Said Tessa, “You lot seem like you’re either completely normal, or just downright strange.”

“Don't worry. You’ll find out which soon enough.” Pascal said with an evil glint in his eye. Phil caught the look and hid a smile in an page of items.

[Lord Blackstaff]

The next bit. As you can probably tell, I'm revealing little details about my world that I've finally clarified, and I've also put forward my theory on the Voynich manuscript.

Ahhh, it's so handy having a non-gamer and geek in the group.

Anyways, the next bit:

The doorbell rang again, “And that would be Dave.” Jorsi said as he got up to get the door.

Pascal’s eyes twinkled, “Oooh, I like watching mindgames. They’re fun.” he said.

Tessa looked quizzically at Sarah.

“Dave can do some very tricky things sometimes. He and Anya often play mindgames with each other and us.” she said.

“So he’s a squint.” Tessa said flatly.

“No. More like he’s already guessed your moves five turns ahead.” Said Phil.

Tessa frowned, “Is this a good thing or a bad thing?”

“Good. Definitely good. Since most of the time he’s outguessing Jorsi to our advantage.” Said Pascal.

“You forget that the rest of that most is him profiling us.” Said Phil.

Tessa frowned, “I’m confused.”

“Don’t be. I just pay attention to details. That’s all.” Said a voice behind them all. “Hi, I’m Dave.” The thin young man held out his hand to Tessa.

Tessa shook it firmly as was surprised at how strong his grip was. He grinned at her and turned to Anya.

“Welcome back!” he said.

Anya smiled and hugged him, “It’s good to see you again Dave.”

“And you likewise.” He said gently hugging her back. He was quite reserved about it.

Jorsi sat back down on his seat and took a sip from his mug, “Excellent. Now that we’re all here. I’d like to introduce you to the reason we’re all here.”

“Woot! A new campaign!” Pascal leaned forward eagerly. Dave sat on the couch beside him, and started stroking his beard.

“As you well know, I’ve been working hard at my latest campaign, fleshing out the world and it’s histories. And as you’ve already guessed, it is set in the world I have been imagining for quite some time.” Jorsi continued.

“I’ll say. You wouldn’t let us in the house, and that things been in your head for years.” Sarah said reprovingly.

Pascal waved a hand, “Let the man speak.”

“There is little else to say, you can see the documents, the campaign will start at level forty and there are no class restrictions.” Jorsi said as he handed a stack of booklets to Anya, “Pass these round, they contain the character class information.”

The booklets went around the lounge room, Tessa looked at hers quizzically, “You expect me to read this stuff? It’s makes about as much sense to me as physics did.” she said.

“Think of it as the Voynich manuscript and you’re a proffessional cryptographer trying to crack the code. When you do, you’ll be world famous. Well, room famous.” Phil said with no trace of humour.

Pascal smirked at his book, “I remember the days when character classes were simple.”

“What’s the Voynich manuscript?” Tessa asked.

“A book from the fifteenth or sixteenth centuries that looks like a typical DnD sourcebook and is written in a script nobodies ever been able to crack.” Said Phil

“Or in English, it’s the worlds greatest enigma. It’s a book full of strange writing and pictures that nobodies ever deciphered.” Said Dave.

“Some say it’s a hoax, some say it’s legit. Either way, there’s between twenty and thirty distinct glyphs and about thirty five thousand distinct words.” Phil said.

“Ok, I did not need to know that.” Tessa said

Phil just chuckled, “You did ask.”

Tessa shrugged and opened her booklet, “So what happens now?” she asked.

“We choose a character class we want for our characters.” Sarah said.

Tessa rolled her eyes, “I get that. But nobodies explained to me this whole dungeons and dragons deal before.” she said in exasperation.

“Ahhh. The fundemental question. What the hell are we doing here?” Said Phil.

“Well, it’s complicated, but we’ll try to break it down for you.” Said Dave.

“Essentially, we’re playing make believe.” Said Pascal.

“Yeah, the adult version. We apply rules to it, and colour it up in strange terminology, but in the end, it’s all just make believe.” Said Dave.

“Ok, I’m with you. At least you guys don’t seem crazy yet.” Said Tessa.

Pascal winked, “You will in time. What happens is that we each create a character, or two, and literally role play them through a storyline.” he said.

“Better known as a campaign.” Said Dave.

“Right. And Jorsi there, acts as the narrator, or general storyteller. We call him the Dungeon Master, or DM. There’s different names, but Dungeon Master and Game Master are the most common.” Said Phil.

“I like the part where we play in character!” Cried Jacko, who had been relatively quiet for most of the events of that evening.

Tessa frowned, “So you actually play your characters, like act them out?” she asked.

“Essentially, yes. Or at least, we do most of the time.” Said Dave.

“It depends on how into it we are.” Said Sarah.

“Ok, I get all that. It sounds pretty simple, but what’s with all this character class stuff?” Tessa asked.

“Ahhhh, yes. The complicated bits.” Said Phil, “Essentially, to be able to role play properly in a game environment, and be subject to the whims of the GM and his gaming world, rules were created. Rules to cover almost every concievable instance. Statistics were invented, Strength, Dexterity, Charisma, and so on, to encompass each character’s physical traits and abilities. Character classes were invented to encompass the roles that each character would play in the world and so on.” He paused for a moment, “You really don't want to get all that chucked in your lap right now.” he finished.

“Yeah, take things one at a time.” Said Dave.

Tessa looked unconvinced, “Sounds overly complicated for something that should be simple.” she said.

“I’ve simplified things a lot for my campaign. Most of the work is done by me.” Said Jorsi.

“Right. And this is just for show.” Pascal patted a thick sourcebook on the table.

Jorsi shrugged, “We teach her this stuff bit by bit.”

Pascal grinned at Tessa, “Just wait till you get to the grapple rules.”

Everybody groaned, Tessa looked confused, “Grapple rules?”

“Yeah, the part nobody wants to let see the light of day. Don’t ever try to grab someone in game. Ever.” Dave said emphatically.

“They’re like quantum physics. Whoever made them, never meant them to be comprehensible.” Phil said.

“I’ll bet you know quantum physics too.” Sarah said jokingly.

Phil shrugged, “I dabble.”

“Back to your characters people. The character sheet is on the front page.” Jorsi said firmly.

“Ohhhh! Lichs are character classes!” Phil cried, “I’m totally going one!” he read a little further, “Oh my god! The Archlichs have a boost of plus fifteen for almost all stats!”

“And a negative thirty for charisma.” Said Jorsi.

“Woo! Everything will totally flee in fear when I approach.” Phil cried.

Pascal punched him, “Including us, you dolt.”

“I’m going Mahhe, I can make fear cancelling amulets or something.” Dave said. “Mahhe are magic users.”

Pascal gave Phil a sideways look, “You’re off the hook then. But you’ll need some sort of uber illusion or something or you’ll chase away all the quest givers.” he said reproachfully.

“Quest givers?” Tessa asked.

“Quests are like jobs we do for experience points and money or some other reward.” Sarah said, “Some people consider them more important then others...”

“Gotta get the loot girl. Gotta get the loot.” Pascal said piously.

“Experience?” Tessa asked.

“A character’s ability and statistics, better known as stats, are defined by what level they are. The higher the level, the more powerful the character. To go up a level you have to gain a certain amount of XP, or Experience Points.” Dave said.

Tessa nodded, “And what would the equivalent of a level forty character be?”

“Somewhere near demigod, or just generally godlike. Level twenty is like Hercules. Level forty is nearly a low level divinity.” Said Phil.

Tessa’s eyes widened and she made a little O with her mouth, then she narrowed her eyes at Jorsi, “What kind of campaign is this?”

“Very high level.” he said.

“With loads of loot, experience and totally awesome god slaying!” Pascal was nearly ecstatic.

Jorsi frowned at him, “You don't know that for sure.”

“It’s level forty starting, of course it is, Jorsi.” said Dave, “At that level, that sort of stuff is a given.”

“Hmph. I should remind myself not to let you guys write my next campaign, or we’ll be redoing greek mythology.” Jorsi said.

“That would be totally awesome!” Pascal had a faraway look in his eyes, “We totally have to do that next!” He cried.

“That would be awesome!” Phil said.

“Thirded!” Dave cried.

The girls just sighed and shook their heads.

“What? It would be awesome.” Pascal said defensively.

“Hmph, it would fulfill every wet dream you've ever had.” Tessa said smirking.

Pascal snorted, “It would fulfill every gamers dream.”

“S’true Hellenistic lore is legendary amoungst gamers, singularly because it would make an awesome game, and nobodies managed it yet.” Phil said.

“Back to character’s people.” Jorsi said.

“But I don't know what to take.” Tessa complained.

“Go fighter. We need a meatshield.” Pascal said, not meanly.

Tessa gave him a dirty look. Sarah nodded, looking interested, “Actually, that’s a good idea.” She said.

Tessa looked shocked, “You’re agreeing with him?”

Sarah looked at Tessa, “Of course. Meatshield isn’t the best terminology for a fighter class, but that’s what they are. And they are the staple of a gaming group. Plus it suits you.”

Tessa scowled, “Meatshield does not suit me.”

Sarah shrugged, “Suit yourself. But take a look at the Skrael and Cat classes.”

Tessa looked grumpy but complied, then her eyes brightened, “Ooooooh Skrael Berserkers look hot!”

Dave snorted, “That’s nice to know.”

Jorsi nodded, “Dave and I drew the pictures.”

Everybody looked up, “You let him in.” Pascal cried.

“Of course, Dave’s an artist, you know that. He was only allowed to see the stuff he was drawing though.” Jorsi said.

Pascal looked slightly mollified.

“I hardly knew anything when I came in here, Jorsi was like the pentagon when it came to divulging information.” Dave said defensively.

“Don’t worry dear, we’re just surprised. You did some lovely drawings.” Anya said, defusing the situation. Everybody seemed to concur and congratulated the two. Dave and Jorsi looked quite pleased with themselves.

[Lord Blackstaff]

Yay! Finally done today. Didn't have a chance till ten pm to do any writing.

Anyways, enjoy. Plenty of references in there if you catch them.




“Oh my god! How many bardic classes are there? How am I supposed to choose from so many?!” Jacko suddenly burst out.

Jorsi chuckled, “I thought you’d already sent your character sheet to me. Set for a level forty adventure.” he said.

“Yeah, but I gotta do something. I mean, it’s kinda boring waiting for you guys to make level forty characters.” Jacko said.

“Serves you right for always going the same character.” Said Pascal.

“I don’t always go the same character. Sometimes they’re different...” Jacko said, but he didn’t sound very convinced.

Phil snorted, “The only times you go another character is when you decide you want to use the half-dragon bard classing system.”

“It’s Red-Dragon Disciple to you, and that’s a prestige class.” Jacko said stiffly.

“Oh go strum your lute.” Said Pascal, “It’s probably authentic too.” he muttered to Phil.

“Of ocurse it’s authentic! I only get the highest quality equipment!” Said Jacko, still quite stiffly.

“That you certainly do. Good thing you don't go Paladin, it could get expensive.” Phil murmured.

“Hmph.” Jacko sulked and started tuning the instrument.

“You actually know how to play?!” Tessa asked, seemingly incredulous at his mastery of the roleplaying arts.

“Hey Spikey Woman, news flash. He’s a roleplayer. That means he can play the lute, dance every medieval dance known to man, sing just about every ballad, in tune, and spar competently with a rapier." Pascal said, not without a certain amount of pride.

Tessa frowned at Pascal’s nickname, but seemed to decide to let it pass, “Are you serious?” she asked.

“Quite. He takes this very seriously.” Phil said.

“Are you going to Scarborough Fair?” Jacko sang, his fingers running softly over the lute to a tune that made Anya and Jorsi glance at each other.

“No singing please Jacko.” Anya said quietly.

Jacko stopped, “But why? Don't you like it?” he looked so mournful that Anya laughed.

“No dear, your singing is fine. It’s just not an appropriate time. We’re trying to think, and you’ll distract us.” she said, “You can play though.” she added quickly.

Jacko smiled, and his fingers started playfully plunking at the strings.

“Give him a few minutes to warm up, he’s really good.” Sarah said quietly, leaning over to Tessa.

“Oh goodness. Did you really have to put twenty different schools of specialisation for Mahhe?” Dave cried, “This is like trying to work out Nethack!”

“Just wait till you get to Sorcery.” Phil said, “Trying to work out how I became an Archlich is one of the hardest things I’ve ever tried to work out.”

They both looked at Jorsi reproachfully. “Didn’t anyone teach you useability at uni?” Dave asked.

Jorsi shrugged, “Think about it this way. There’s no restrictions on what you do. Some people just happen to be better at one thing then another.” he paused, “Oh yes, and the Mahhe are like scientists in this world, in relation to their quest for knowledge.”

“Ok, so you’ve simplified things already. I get it. No need to go further.” Phil smiled weakly.

Tessa looked at Dave quizzically, “What shut him up so quickly?”

“If you’ve ever tried to research another scientiffic discipline, you’ll know it’s like opening the doors to an entirely different way of thinking things. Phil likes to research random things. He doesn't need any more world changing epiphanes.” Dave said.

“Oh.” Tessa said.

“You worked out what you’re gonna do yet?” Sarah asked Tessa.

“Fuck no. There’s like twenty different fighting types as well.” she said.

“I thought you liked the beserkers.” said Sarah.

“I did, but I don’t think I could play a crazed and half drunk killing machine.” Tessa said.

“Hnh. They’re some of the best fighters in the world, second only to the Cat warriors. But nobody can beat the Cat when it comes to music or war.” Said Jorsi, “Try looking at the Wanderer class. They can turn out as strong as berserkers.” he added, holding up his book.

Tessa squinted at it, then flipped to the section that he indicated. Her eyes brightened, and she brushed a strand of black hair out of her face, “These guys are a neutral gender class?” she asked.

“Yyyyyeeeess. I was going to mention that.” Jorsi said, “The classes in this world often have gender restrictions. Like the berserker.”

“What, so they’re sexist or something?” Tessa asked, “I don’t like sexist people. They’re assholes.”

Jorsi shrugged, “The medieval times were very sexist, I make no balls about this fact in my campaigns. It is only logical that the world reflect the times in which it is set.” he said.

Phil snorted, “Those item listings looked anything but medieval. You have fucking plasma blades and high tech shielding devices.” he said derisively.

“Technology progressed differently there, at a much faster rate. Koethe allowed the Mahhe to do things that we would only dream of. This does mean that certainly elements never progressed at all. Given, it’s improved a lot from the dark ages, but they are far from reaching female emancipation.” Jorsi said.

“Hmph. At least you've given it proper thought.” Phil said. His tone indicated he didn’t completely agree with Jorsi.

“So it’s half sexist and half not.” Tessa said.

Jorsi nodded, “Something like that, yes. You’ll be happy to know that the Skrael never had issues with sexism, even in the dark ages. Their women had equal, and sometimes greater, rights to men.” he said.

Tessa beamed, “I’m going Skrael then.” then she frowned, “Now I just have to work out what. Don't you guys ever get bored of this and just want to get on with playing?” She asked, clearly impatient.

“We tried that.” Phil said.

Pascal winced, “That was a bad idea. Nobody knew who was who, or what they could do, and nobody could make head or tail of things.” he said.

“Sometimes the boring bits are essential.” Dave said, “They mean there’s less confusion later on.”

Tessa sighed, and continued reading.

“I think I like this Songsmith class.” Anya said, “These side perks look interesting. What’s this Phoenix Song ability?”

“A very rare, and very powerful singing ability. When singing, it’s as if the world nearby resonates with the singer. Those wielding the Phoenix Song often exhibit Seer like tendencies and the sound does not need any solid medium to travel. It also allows for prophetic images to be ‘sung’ to the person being prophesied to. That’s amoung other smaller sundry effects. Phoenix Singers have voices that can only be described as heavenly when they sing.” Jorsi said.

“Oh I think I like this very much.” Anya said.

“If you take the Phoenix Song ability, keep in mind that you will be barred from any bardic competitions and cannot attain a Master status. It has a very powerful effect on the listeners, and never completely switches off. Also, the amount of people wielding it can be counted on the fingers of one hand.” Jorsi said.

Anya nodded, “That’s fine. I’m quite sure that Tessa and the boys will take care of me.” She smiled at them.

Pascal was wide eyed, “Don't look at me! I’m a thief usually, we don't take damage for squat.” he waved his hands in fervent denial.

Tessa looked at Pascal with a gleeful look in her eye, “You play a thief. That’s a little bit... dishonourable.” She said sweetly.

Pascal didn’t rise to the bait, “Someone’s gotta handle the traps, Spikey Woman. That’s me.” he said lazily.

Tessa scowled, “Don’t call me that.”

“Or you’ll what? Stab me with one of the many knives secreted on your body? I’ve counted seven so far.” Pascal said, raising an eyebrow.

Tessa gave him a murderous look, “You watch your back you insolent little wretch, you might fight something sharp in it.” she said coolly.

“You’re on!” Pascal cried. Then he checked himself, “Incidentally, Anya. Were you planning on staying, or leaving?” he asked, a conspiratorial glint in his eye. Everybody suddenly became much more interested, except Tessa, who just looked interested in whatever everyone else was interested in.

Anya smiled faintly, “I will be staying, if Jorsi lets me.” She said, looking at Jorsi.

Jorsi nodded, “That will be fine.”

“There you have it.” She said, smiling at Pascal, having already guessed what he was doing.

“Woo!” Pascal punched the air, “From the lady herself. Now pay up Sarah and me.” he made gimme gestures to everybody.

Dave leaned back smiling, as the others started splitting a large wad of cash between Sarah and Pascal. Tessa looked at him, “Aren’t you part of it?” she asked.

Dave shook his head, “I don't bet unless I can definitely win. Anya caught us all off balance.” he said.

“Spoilsport!” Pascal called.

Dave shrugged, “You get more money, I would have called your side.”

“You’re just saying that coz she’s here.” Pascal said.

“Nope. It was my definite guess. I just wasn’t going to bet on it.” Dave said firmly.

Pascal shrugged, “More for me then.” he said counting off the money, then shoving it in his pocket.

“I’m flattered you had such confidence in me, but I would have you know I don't approve of this.” Anya said fixing them all with a hard look.

Pascal squirmed, but Phil took his glasses off to clean them. “Let em have their fun little lady. It’s harmless.” he said, ignoring her look.

[Lord Blackstaff]

Yay! More writing goodness! Or boringness! Oh well, either way, I'm getting a lot more in depth in the in world characters, which is handy.

Guess what?! There's Telekinetic lock picking as a feat, and Pascal has it. . I would totally love to play in this world, it's getting more awesome by the second. I should totally do a campaign in it after Star Wars.

Ninja/warrior/thief combination is just too much goodness to pass up.

Anyways, onto the story:


“Hmph. I can think of better ways to have fun. How much did you win Pascal?” Anya asked.

“A nice all round hundred bucks. Not too bad a haul if I say so myself.” he answered smugly.

Anya raised an eyebrow but said nothing. Not even Dave could guess what she was thinking at that point.

“Alright. Back to your characters everyone, we have a long day ahead of us, and level forty characters don’t make themselves.” Jorsi said, ushering everyone back to their character sheets.

“I can’t decide what to go as. A wood elf tradeswoman, or a Lissi Spellreaver.” Sarah slapped her booklet in frustration.

“What do you want to play as?” Jorsi asked.

“I don’t know, that’s the problem. Diplomatic is good, but so is Koethe stealing.” Sarah said.

“With an Archlich and Dave going as one of the Mahhe, you’ll probably be more redundant then anything else if you go Spellreaver. Plus, the Lissi don’t have good racial relations, so you’ll always have a penalty in diplomacy type skills. Even though they are highly skilled at whatever they do, particularly with cultural things.” Jorsi said.

Sarah frowned and flipped through the booklet, “So you think I should go with the wood elf?” she asked.

“Wood elves are essentially Lissi, but have a different cultural and racial bias, meaning they are quite well liked amoung the peoples. Add in an uncanny ability to make money out of almost nothing, and you have the staple for a very strong diplomatic class. Which could be useful, as you won't want to fight everything in this campaign.” Jorsi said.

Sarah nodded, “But what about battle, I’ll be useless with a diplomatic class.”

“Multiclass, Trader’s have powerful diplomatic skills, but they are better tempered with one of the more warlike classes. Check the Defendant classes, they’re under the Lissi section.” Jorsi said.

Dave took that moment to ask his own set of questions as Sarah flipped through the booklet and began reading, “I’m going for a Skrael Psion, but it says I have the necessity of at least rank two in any weapons training, preferably staff. What should I do?” he asked.

Jorsi looked speculative, “Psion... hmmmm, that’s a good choice. Psions have a lot of freedom in their Koethe manipulation, if you’re clever about spell useage. I’d recommend staff training, and go for at least rank three, if not four.” he said.

“Rank four? That’s nearly master! Why would I want to do that?” Dave was surprised.

“Because a Mahhe without his power is useless, and you can never second guess what will come next. I’d personally also take two ranks in hand to hand combat. Plus Skrael get a free two ranks in any weapon or unarmed feat and two ranks in any armour feat.” Jorsi said.

“Free skillz?! Awesome! That picks my race!” Pascal cried.

Dave frowned, “Ok, so if I take three ranks in the Giaende unarmed combat style, and four in Giaende staff battle, I can add one more transfer feat, making me essentially a rank five with the staff.” He frowned, running through calculations in his head, “Cool! Three free feats is handy!” he said, then darkened, but I still gotta drop a few Psion feats to make room for the combat feats.”

Jorsi shrugged, “Don’t forget the armour feats. You’d probably be best suited with the Ark’e armour, since it doesn't sacrifice dexterity while retaining a usual medium armour bonus.” he said.

“What’s all this business with feats and crap?” asked Tessa.

“Every character class and race gains feats. It’s how we allot your character’s abilities. Feats can be anything from riding a horse well to wielding a rapier or decreasing concentration requirements in battle.” said Phil, “Translated into the real world, Jacko’s loot playing would be at least a rank three feat in this system. Normally with battle feats, you just gain the ability to use that weapon, but Jorsi has made things more complex by adding feat rankings and battle styles. Which is actually a lot more realistic. That booklet there, that Dave was using before, has a detailed listing of all the feats and their cross feat effects.” he continued.

“Oook. I don't think a got any of that, but I’m guessing that feats are like skills you learn in real life, except in this case you learn them at certain levels.” said Tessa.

“Bravo!” Pascal clapped, nobody could tell if he was being sarcastic or not, “That’s exactly what they are and generally how they work.”

Tessa made an O, then frowned, “Are we already doing these feats?”

Jorsi shook his head, “Only some of us, Dave and Phil are experienced at rpgs, so they already have a good idea of what they want to be in game. So they’ve already started filling out their character level details. The others are still where you are.” he said.

Tessa looked relieved, “Ok good, coz I think I like this Skrael Wanderer class a lot and I want to start filling out the rest of the details.” she said.

Jorsi smiled, “I thought you might. I find it best if you teach this system to yourself, instead of holding your hand. So follow this sheet, which is Jacko’s character and see what you can do. The feat tables and tree diagrams are in that stack of papers over there.” He said pointing to a stack of papers under the table.

Tessa scowled, but started reading through the reams of paper that Jorsi had managed to accumulate. She seemed to be quite fascinated by the system, if more than a little bewildered.

“Awesome! I can go ninja warrior?!” Pascal cried, holding up his booklet.

Jorsi frowned, “Ninja warrior? If you mean the Shadow Walker class-”

“Nononono. Jewel Thief cross classed with Bladewalker.” Pascal said excitedly.

Jorsi’s eyebrows shot up, “Oh my... I knew I shouldn’t have put Jewel Thief in there. That’s a very powerful class combination.”

“Jewel Thief?” Dave asked.

“The Jewel Islands are the central cities for the trade all around the world. They are the hubs of every trade route in existence, and as a result they get a huge amount of traffic. Security is very tight, so the Jewel Thieves came into existence to survive in that environment. They are an elite group of thieves who operate solely on the fact that they are impossible to catch, can pick any pocket, and steal any item. Essentially the class allows for rank six hiding in plain site, sleight of hand, pick pocketing and general theiving. They also get boosts of plus fifteen to their Speed and Dexterity stats. There’s other stealth related perks as well, but essentially they’re the perfect theives.” Jorsi said, with a touch of resignation.

Dave whistled. “Wow. And what’s the Bladewalker class?”

“The class for fighters who specialise in finesse at wielding the blade, it doesn’t matter what type of blade, just as long as it’s knife like in some way. It concentrates on skill, speed and agility. It allows you to reach a rank seven in any bladed weapon. But Pascal, since he’s cross classing will only reach rank five.” Jorsi said.

“Wow. Just wow.” Dave was stunned, “And you actually let him take it?” he was slightly incredulous.

Jorsi shrugged, “Considering the campaign I have set up for you guys, it will come in handy plenty of times.” he said, “As long as Pascal can resist his urges.”

Pascal laughed, “Ha! You forgot to mention the fact the Jewel Thief comes with the problem of compulsive thievery. I will have to roll for a massive will save every time something sparkly comes within reach.” he said gleefully.

Jorsi scowled, Phil muttered something about strangling Pascal, Anya’s face was serene, Sarah looked at Pascal darkly, as did Dave. Jacko was strunning his lute, completely oblivious and Tessa looked at everybody with a look of mild surprise. “What’s wrong?” she asked.

“Pascal is almost always a rogue character, and he always gets us into trouble. Massive, heaping amounts of it.” Sarah said, “He just chose a two classes that will get him into more trouble then all the previous campaigns combined.”

Tessa grinned, “In that case, remember what I said before, Pas. Watch your back, or you might find something sharp in it.” she said, and evil glint in her dark eyes.

Pascal shrugged, “I’ll be paying you in so much loot you won’t need to worry about anything. We’ll be able to bribe our way through almost anything.” he said.

“Not this time, you won’t. This time I made sure that a number of the city officials and guards are incorruptible. You’re going to have to play by the rules if you don't want to hang from the gallows or die a horrific death in a dungeon somewhere.” Jorsi said smugly.

“Damn you! Good thing I took the Telekinetic lock picking feat.” Pascal grinned, “You have a roll for automatic Telekinesis, and I passed it.” he said with even more smugness.

Jorsi scowled, “You’re too smart for your own good sometimes.” he said.

Pascal shrugged, “Born that way. It comes in handy.” he said.

“There’s Telekinesis?” Tessa asked.

“Yeah, I get it by default, but you can roll to see if you get it. Check the general skills page.” said Dave.

Tessa cast around for a pair of dice until Sarah passed her three d20’s. Tessa looked at them quizzically, “These dice are wierd.”

“Wait till you see the d100’s. They’re even wierder.” Said Phil.

Tessa shrugged and rolled, “Now what?”

“Add up the totals, and if you beat the minimum score in the book for Telekinesis, you get it as a feat.” said Dave, “But you have to take a few ranks in Telekinesis training before it’s any use.”

Tessa frowned and looked at the booklet, then she jubilantly punched the air, “Woo! I get it too!” she cried.

Then she frowned, “Now I gotta be able to use it.” she said.

[HLY]

y'missed a few commas and speach mars, but so far this si pretty good reading, very realistic, and I'm already liking Pascal, but when does he choose to be a girl?

[Lord Blackstaff]

Yay! Someone commented!

Thanks HLY, glad you like it so far. And yeah, I'll be cringing when I go over it in December, the program I'm using doesn't have an auto spell checker, which I find nice, because I'm not so worried about those niggling issues now.

Pascal will be making his choices in the next update (which will come later, couldn't do any writing today. Didn't do much at all today really. Took a break from everything.) and hopefully I'll also be able to start the game, or transport them soonish, it depends when all the dialogue gets covered. I've got a fair bit of stuff that needs to be covered to save trouble later. I actually am kinda enjoying doing to dialogue, nothing's happening, I don't have to worry about a tonne of description or anything, and I can get the characters all down pat for when things go haywire...

And boy, will they be going haywire!

Armageddon doesn't even begin to describe the backdrop events they'll be falling into, and the complexity of all the little threads that are sorting themselves into a plot gets more spidery every day.

Before I forget, there's a huge war that's about to start just when the characters arrive, several lords have decided that a little bit of chaos is handy for land grabbing, and since they're powerful, nobody wants to touch them. Then there's the racial squabbles, and princes/kings staring daggers at each other. 13 evil dudes are hell bent on splitting every alliance in existence and starting civil wars (or otherwise). The land across the sea has decided to invade (thanks to the efforts of 2 of the aforementioned evil dudes). The god of evilness (name upcoming) is breaking free of his bindings (nothing made by any of the races ever lasts when dealing with gods) and that's why the 13 are running about. The tribes people are squabbling as usual.

Then of course, there's the increase in crime that needs dealing with. Some upstart is trying to create a crime syndicate.

Of course our petty villain is trying to raise an undead army and take over the world.

It all might seem simple, but a lot of that is political manoeuvring, which is a devil to keep track of >.<. And I've barely started on what it'll take to unite the lands - a necessity because troops are in short supply otherwise - and gah!

Lets just say simple things can get very very complicated when all combined at approximately the same time.

Thank goodness for Rowan and his fellow nine Giaide. But I've a feeling our lovely little band of adventurers is gonna get a front seat role, coz Envore (the creator god) is gonna be playing with them the entire time.

[Lord Blackstaff]

Alrighty then. The story continues. Big update this time, finally finished the character sheets business. The rpg has officially started. For people like Flaxes who haven't done this sort of thing before, the rpg sections are almost exactly how my local group plays it, except the GM is a lot less creative, and does do as much description.

Everything should be explained as I go, thanks to Tessa.

Enjoy it peoples! It took over two and a half hours to write:


“Girl or boy? Hmmmm.” Pascal rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

“Boy!” Sarah burst out. Tessa looked at her strangely, Sarah made some frantic motions that seemed to mean ‘follow along!’.

“Boy.” Tessa said, catching on.

Anya took a few moments longer, but seemed to concur with the other two ladies, “Boy.” She said.

Phil and Dave looked at each other, grinned in the way only men who are enjoying themselves can, and said in unison, “Girl.”

“You totally want the perks.” Dave said, incurring scowls from all the ladies.

“What’s the stat shift at this level?” Pascal asked Jorsi.

“Page two of the booklet. But essentially men get a boost to strength, intelligence and speed; while women get a boost to wisdom, agility and dexterity.” Said Jorsi. His face implied that he didn’t want to know what was going through Pascals head in that moment.

“Hey! That’s kinda sexist isn't it?” Tessa cried.

Jorsi shook his head, and looked at Anya for help. She pondered for about a minute before saying anything, “No, he is right. At this level, the differences between men and women are much more pronounced. I’ve studied this sort of thing for some time, and while the differences are usually not so noticeable, as people exhibit stronger ability the differences become much more pronounced. Of course, men will naturally be stronger and faster then women, as testosterone will always boost their muscle mass above women in comparative training schemes, and their bone structure is more efficient then a womans-”

“What do you mean they have a more efficient bone structure?” Tessa demanded.

Anya levelled a look that told Tessa she was being doltish, “Your hips dear. You have sideways motion while moving. Men barely have any of that. When running, men have an advantage because of that.”

“Oh.” Tessa said.

“Now, where was I? Oh yes. Then we come to intelligence. While women don't necessarily perform better when on a normal basis, men tend to be a lot more one track. Smart ones tend to be a lot more focused then women, as they have a lot less to worry about with respect to emotions. While they can be cold, when you take things to a higher level, men almost always perform better then their female counterparts with respect to intelligence.” Anya said, then looked at Tessa, “Why do you think the smartest people in the world, even in modern times, are almost always men?”

Tessa shrugged, “Sexism? It might be harder to be a smart woman scientist then a man.”

“Poppycock. There may be some barriers, but any self respecting woman can easily overcome them. The reason we don't see women competing equally with men is because they either don’t want to, or can’t compete. Men have less distractions, meaning they can be a lot more focused then a woman. It means that their intelligence can be honed, but usually at a cost.” Anya said firmly, “However, equally, men are generally not as flexible or capable of multiple tasking as women tend to be. Furthermore, they can lack common sense.” Anya said, glancing at Jorsi in the last bit, “their wisdom tends to suffer as a result. They can be brilliant, and have the common sense of a lab rat.” she finished.

Tessa frowned, “Ok, that made sense, but why translate it into a game?”

“Realism, and because the differences should be acknowledged.” Jorsi said, “Men and women tend to believe themselves completely equal to one another, when in fact they are not.” Tessa opened her mouth to argue, but Jorsi held up his hand, “Let me finish. Men and women are capable of different things. They are good at some things and bad at others. In a sense, they are equal. But it is because they are equal on a complementary basis, not on a level playing field in all respects basis.” he said.

Tessa frowned, thinking for a moment, “So you’re saying that we aren’t equal because we naturally have different skills and abilities.” she said at last.

“Exactly. I believe it should be necessary to acknowledge this in my campaigns.” Jorsi said, “you will notice that there are no negative modifiers. They are all positive.” he added.

Tessa nodded, “I don’t like it. But I can see the sense in it.” she said slowly.

Sarah patted her arm and smiled, “Thank you.”

Tessa looked surprised, “For what?”

“For agreeing to disagree.” Sarah looked at Jorsi and smiled, “Jorsi and Anya have put a lot of work into that side of things, and you would have never won an argument with them on that topic.” she said.

Tessa looked surprised, “Oh. Ok.” she smiled at Sarah, it was a surprisingly nice smile.

“Ok. Definitely going girl then.” Pascal said.

“No!” All three of the ladies burst out.

Tessa looked confused, “Why not?” she asked Sarah.

“Because he literally flaunts his feminine side in game and uses it without any shame at all.” Sarah said, frowning at Pascal in disapproval, who had one of his charmingly innocent looks on his face. Complete with dimples.

“Awwww. He’s so cute! Do that again!” Tessa clapped her hands and almost squealed with delight. Dave caught the faint indications that she was doing it to antagonise Pascal.

Pascal scowled, “No.”

“Awwwww.” Tessa said with, looking crestfallen. Everybody could tell it was teasing now.

Pascal ignored her, and wrote on his character sheet, ending the word with a florish, “Female it is!” he cried.

Phil hid a smile as Jorsi groaned.

Tessa looked at Sarah, “What’s with him?”

Sarah made a face, “You’ll see soon enough.”

“Ok, so character features now.” Pascal was thinking aloud.

“Spare us, dear. You’re distracting everybody.” Anya said.

Pascal shrugged and kept on tapping his chin in silence, his eyes gleaming with intelligence. The men had known him long enough to know that his mind was racing through thousands of possibilities in that moment, and that at least half of them were innocently malicious in some form or other. They exchanged glances. Dave tapped his character sheet and indicated the hallway. Phil nodded, and they got up, leaving the room together.

Tessa looked at them, then at Sarah, who said quietly, “Damage control. They’re going to try to minimize the amount of trouble Pascal’s character will cause.” Tessa looked surprised, as if such an altruistic action had been outside of her estimations of the two.

****

“Ok. What’re we gonna do about him?” Dave asked Phil quietly once they were out of earshot, in one of the guest rooms, with the door closed.

“Do you have any lethargy spells?” Phil asked.

Dave scanned the spell lists he’d brought with him, “Yeah, a few. And a sleep spell or two.” he said.

“Good, make sure you have them in your spell list at all times, you never know when you’ll have to put him out of action for a little bit.” Said Phil.

“What about you? What sort of stuff are you specialising in?” Dave asked.

“Death magic mostly, but also blight type spells.” Phil said.

Dave frowned, and sat on the bed, “So not so helpful then.”

Phil scanned his lists, “I dunno, part of my spell listing involves the raising of the dead.” he said.

Dave looked surprised, “I wondered why the clerics didn’t have that. Jorsi must have made all that sort of stuff highly illegal.”

“It is.” Phil said, “Ahhh. Here’s one, and I have a strong affinity for it as well, due to the nature of my character. Binding Koethe.”

Dave perked up, “Binding stuff could be handy, what have they got?” he asked.

“Hmmm, not too good, binding magic is good if you want to fiddle around with the properties of the world and souls, but not so much if you want to snare...” Phil said, examining the listing, “Oh wait, here we go. A few snare spells and literally binds.” he said.

“Good, add them to your spell lists.” Dave said, he considered things for a moment, “We still need some better means of stopping him.” Dave looked at his spell listings, “Boosting his will save could help a lot in cities.” he said, the paused for a long moment, “I don't like it, but I may have to resort to mind control some of the time.” he said finally.

“Keep that as a last resort if he’s really screwing things up. It’s handier as a threat, as you’ll be less likely to have to carry it out.” Phil said.

“Hmmm, yeeesss. I agree. Now what else can we do?” Dave asked slowly.

“Not much.” Phil said, “What about that new girl, Tessa?”

Dave sighed, “I know. Pascal’s really screwy over the fact that she’s Sarah’s girlfriend. I can tell.”

Phil nodded, “We need to keep them away from each other’s throats. She doesn't seem to like him much either.” he said.

“At least she’s civil.” Dave said, “I hate bitchy girls.”

“In some ways this is worse, because she's too well behaved to do anything completely overt.” Phil said, “Do we have any ways of detecting for when she tries to backstab him or something?”

“I have several shields and illusions, and my Telekinesis is very powerful. Rank seven.” Dave said.

“That could work. I unfortunately can’t do much, apart from shields. But they’re mainly psychological. I can frighten her off his back for long enough for her to fail.” Phil said.

Dave nodded, I think if I tie a few to him at the start, it should keep things down. They last for long enough that I can renew at each rest.” he said.

“And what if you need them later?” Phil asked.

Dave shook his head, “I won’t. The Psion’s abilities arise largely from their ability to manipulate minds and their telekinetic and telepathic abilities. About half my spells can be cast unlimited times, I just have to combine them right for different effects.” he said.

“Ok. But we still have to deal with her out of character.” Phil said.

Dave looked at Phil sharply, “We aren't going to sabotage things, if that’s what you’re thinking.” he said.

“Nonono. Nothing like that.” Phil said, “But I think that Pascal befriending her could have some unforeseen benefits.”

Dave looked at Phil knowingly, “I see where you’re going. But once Pascal gets a grudge, he’s difficult to shift.”

Phil shrugged, “Time will tell. I think a bit of chatting with Pascal, and befriending Tessa could help a lot.” he said.

“Yeess. Coax her out of her shell.” Dave said slowly, “That’s a good idea. She’s polite now, but that’s relative I think. Once she gets down to things, she’ll have a very sharp tongue. If we can get to her softer side, it could work wonders.”

“Plus, she’d be a hundred times hotter.” Phil said.

Dave grinned, “Typical.” he glanced at the sheet, “So things are sorted?”

Phil nodded, “Make Tessa nice, and Pascal like her, and make sure we always have sleep, lethargy, binding and shielding spells in our spell lists.”

Dave grinned again, “Just the impossible.”

****

Everybody looked up when Dave and Phil entered the room. “Worked your stuff out?” Jorsi asked.

Dave and Phil looked at each other, then Dave nodded, “Yep.” he said as he sat back down and started writing on his character sheet.

Phil winked surreptitiously at Pascal, and when he sat down murmered quietly, “Don’t worry, we got your back.”

Sarah and Tessa looked at each other, wondering what was going on. There was that distinct feeling in air of plans being laid, and nobody likes to be out of the loop.

****

The next several hours saw much scribbling in the character sheets and questions asked. Slowly, but steadily, each of the players worked out their characters while Jacko strummed on his lute quietly, nearly oblivious to what was happening around him.

“Ok, I think I’ve worked out my character.” Sarah said, passing the booklet with the character sheet open to Jorsi.

Jorsi took the little booklet and examined the character sheet. His eyebrows shot up, “So you took my advice, but a Knight Protector! Crossclassed with a Wood Elf Merchant?! My goodness woman!” he cried.

Sarah frowned, “Is there something wrong with that?” she asked.

Jorsi’s voice was slightly strangled, “Not technically. No. But gameplay wise you’re playing as one of the most powerful class combinations for diplomacy. Not only could you outsell and out-talk anybody just about, but you can outfight almost anything as well!” he looked at the feats listing, “At least the cross classing means you couldn't take full advantage of either class.”

“Damn. This is going to be an interesting campaign!” Said Pascal.

“Ok, I think I’ve finished too.” Said Tessa, passing her booklet to Jorsi.

Jorsi examined it closely, and took quite some time to say anything, “Interesting. Very very interesting.” he said at last.

Pascal looked worried, “What’s so interesting? Last time you said that for a character sheet, they single handedly killed your main boss character. On their first encounter!”

“She’s playing a pure Cat trained Bladesinger.” Jorsi said.

“What’s that mean?!” Pascal was looking slightly wild eyed, he didn’t like being kept out of the loop in things like that. Tessa smiled smugly.

“It means that she’s pure classing with one of the finesse weapon classes. Bladesingers are very similar to Bladewalkers, except that they are more focused and their skill level is higher. With Cat training as a background, it means she’s learned her class from the best fighters in the land. The Cat are literally unmatched in music and in battle. Every feat she has that has ranks is one rank higher then normal. She’s playing as the Lissi race, which means she gets an average boost in all stats, and a plus twenty to dexterity, agility, and speed. Her character is over one thousand years old, which means she gets a boost of plus ten to wisdom and intelligence. Add in five ranks in telekinesis, courtesy of a free five feats due to race and age, and there is little that can defeat her in battle.” Jorsi said.

Pascal’s widened, “Holy shit. That’s almost godlike! Lemme see that character sheet!” he cried.

Jorsi passed the booklet to Pascal. “Hey!” Tessa protested.

Jorsi shrugged, “All character sheets are free to view, it’s not like you can’t see his when he’s finished.” he said. Tessa looked mollified, and Pascal whistled.

“Damn Spikey, that’s one hell of a first character to have.” he said, passing her booklet back to her.

“Alright, here’s my character. Finally finished. Choosing feats for these classes is bloody hard.” Pascal said, passing his character sheet to Jorsi.

Jorsi checked over it, but seemed to be expecting a lot of what he saw, then his eyebrows beetled, “You really did go into depth on those feats. You’ve used almost every free cross feat there is. It’s no wonder you took so long. That’s an impressive amount of loopholes you've exploited.” he said.

Pascal beamed, “It is, isn’t it.” he said, with absolutely no sense of modesty at all.

“What’s he done?” Tessa asked.

“Exploited racial, class, age, and cross feat freebies to get enough free feats to be the equivalent in a pure Jewel Theif, while retaining fifteen levels of Bladewalker class for battle abilities. Plus, his character is extremely attractive, and has a very high charisma score, courtesy of certain class feats and a racial bonus.” Jorsi said. Pascal beamed, clearly very proud of himself.

“Show me.” Tessa demanded. Jorsi passed her the booklet. She looked over the character sheet, scowled and threw it at Pascal, “If you dare try anything, I will leave your character bleeding and broken in a ditch.” She said, nobody doubted that she would carry out the threat either.

Pascal grinned, “Ya gotta catch me first. And you’re spot and listen checks are no match for my hiding skills.” he said, catching the book easily.

Phil and Dave passed the booklets they’d been examining for some time to each other and nodded. They then both passed their booklets to Jorsi. The girls looked at each other, and Pascal frowned slightly. Anya smiled faintly.

Jorsi took the booklets and examined them individually, before saying anything, “I see you two have been very thorough in your examination of Koethe.” he said at last.

Phil and Dave both nodded, but didn’t say anything.

Jorsi looked at them, then grunted, “Together you cover a very large range of Koethe manipulation abilities, and could probably take any Mahhe in a battle. But I find some of these support spells strange to appear in your spell lists. Lethargy is not a spell most people use.” he said.

Dave shrugged, “All things considering, we decided support spells would come in handy,” he glanced at Tessa, “Very handy."

Jorsi caught the look and nodded, “All things considering, they are very astute choices. Your characters will be more than capable, even on their own. Though I didn’t expect you to specialise so much in hand to hand, Phil.” he said.

Phil shrugged, “Free feats coz I’m an Archlich. I couldn't resist.” he said.

Jorsi nodded, and looked at Anya, “Are you finished?” he asked.

Anya, made some last minute corrections then handed her character sheet across without saying anything.

Jorsi examined it closely, and was thoughtful as he passed it back to her, “A pure Songsmith. Interesting choice. Especially with some of those feats and abilities. You will not be fighting, but nothing will want to fight you. Astute as usual.” he said.

“What can the Songsmith’s do?” Phil asked.

“A lot of supporting things, and they also have a strong healing part. Anya can buff any of your characters with some very strong supporting songs, and can apply a vast knowledge of plant lore and natural remedies to heal you. Some of her spells can drain the will to fight of anybody with a certain foot radius of her, meaning that she won’t ever need to fight if she uses her abilities properly.” Jorsi said.

Phil looked thoughtful, “That’s a very good choice, Anya.” he said.

Anya smiled, “Thank you dear.”

Jorsi rubbed his hands together, “That would be everybody! Jacko, put your lute down, we’re starting.” he said, his expression said he had been waiting for some time for this part.

Everybody leaned forward, and waited expectantly. Jorsi pulled a map from under his chair and spread it on the table. “What you are looking at is the countryside of Nereval, the capital city of the once united Firthe. You are a group of adventurers who have been chosen from a vast array of applicants to begin an investigation into some matters that stink of sorcery. You have been called into the countryside to meet with the man who enlisted your help, the Protector himself. The greatest warrior and hero to ever walk the lands.” Jorsi said, his voice had that particular timbre and way of drawing you in that had enthralled his players for years.

“So if he’s so mighty, why doesn’t he just deal with things himself?” Pascal was clearly not quite enthralled.

“Rowan, he’s the Protector, has to deal with several political matters and one of the rising powers of darkness and doesn't have time to deal with the Sorcery problem.” Jorsi said.

“What is Sorcery anyway? I could never work that out.” Tessa asked.

“Sorcery is anything to do with the study of the Deathly arts, so resurrection, undead armies, speaking with spirits, death weaves, that sort of thing.” Jorsi said.

Tessa nodded, “Ok, that makes sense now.”

“Alright. You are walking in the open field, here,” Jorsi pointed to the centre of the map, “And Rowan has been waiting for you for some time. He doesn't show any signs of being annoyed at it though.” Jorsi continued, he looked at the players, “he seems to be waiting for you to speak.”

[Lord Blackstaff]

Oh goodness! I have two days worth of writing to catch up, and an essential assignment to finish. If I survive, this will be the second night in a row that I will be awake, and at 1:30 pm tommorow, I will have been awake for 48 hours.

Does anybody have any advice for writing 3.something k words while partially catatonic?

[Flailing Axes]

yeah. Do what everybody else is doing! We're all way behind you.

In all seriousness, turn a fan on, get a packet of your favourite biscits, lock the door, get rid of anything on your computer other than music and a word document, and write. Stop for a break after each 1000 words to do some coursework, or the assignment in your case, then come back to writing. Update your word count after every 200 words, too, makes you feel like you're getting closer and closer to your target

[Lord Blackstaff]

Woo! Two days worth of nano writing done in two sittings, one before dinner, and one after. Right now, I've been awake for aproximately 57.5 hours in a row.

Wow. I'm amazed that this was actually coherent.

Anyways, some background exposition on need to know stuff, and a coupla bad jokes (hey, I'm totally stoned right now) for those who'll pick em up.

And yes, Rowan does make Kratos look like a mincing pansy. And yes, I should think up a better comparison, but my brain isn't exactly operational anymore. About half of that story was written in autopilot. I wasn't able to see the words some of the time.

Anyways, enjoy LB's sadly tripless sleep loss writing. Hallucinations must come after a coupla more days without sleep. Pity.

Oh well, I'm off to get some shut eye! Enjoy the story!

Oh yeah, this is Chapter 2. Roll Again?



“Wait. Exactly how powerful is this guy?” Phil asked abruptly.

Jorsi sat back and smiled faintly, “Lets just say that he’s the Grand High Blademaster, the most powerful Koethe wielder in the world, at least two official ranks above master in any weapon, Grand Master of the bow, the wearer of the Crown of Memories, the wielder of Nírasü,” Jorsi pronounced Nírasü as Nearhhhassu, or something close to that, “he’s Pheonix Chosen, Dragonkin and a Warmaster. A Giaide-”

“Ok, ok, barely any of that made sense.” Phil said, “Start speaking in English.”

Jorsi grinned, “Very well then,” he said, “That essentially meant that Rowan is literally the best at wielding any bladed object. There is no individual outside the Cat lands who can match him with the blade. He is the most powerful Koethe wielder, and knows practically everything that is known about it. But he isn't the most skilled at it, his brother can defeat him even though he is markedly less powerful. Then there are the master ranks on a weapon skill. In the land, not on the feat sheet, there is a ranking system. There’s about fifteen or twenty ranks to Master, then another five to the Tier One Mastery, another five to Tier Two Mastery and so on. There are seven Tiers to Grand Master. Grand High Master can only be awarded by another Grand High Master, and is the official title for the person who is literally unmatched in that weapon. The Cat have a different system, and technically their Grand High Master is the one who is unmatched, but he recognised Rowan’s skill a long time ago, and awarded Rowan the ranking outside of the Cat lands. Inside their lands, I doubt he’s even third best.” Jorsi paused, “What was next?” he asked.

“The Crown of Memories.” Phil said.

“Ah! The Crown of Memories is the memory band that taps directly into the Pool of Memories. Every memory in a memory band eventually ends up in the Pool of Memories, and from there to the Crown of Memories.” Jorsi looked at them all, “You did remember to all purchase a Memory Band right?” Everybody nodded.

Pascal whistled, “So that would make him pretty much all knowing then.” he said.

“No, not all knowing, but he does have access to almost every piece of knowledge the races has uncovered. Only the gods are actually omniscient.” Jorsi said.

“Ok, so that leaves us wondering about Nírasü, Pheonix Chosen, Dragonkin and Giaide.” said Phil.

“Nírasü is the blade originally forged by one of the elder gods to battle the evil god. Pheonix Chosen are particular individuals who are chosen by Pheonixes for bonding. The bond between a Pheonix and it's Chosen increases all attributes by a significant amount over a very long period of time, and has a number of other perks, including fire immunity, Agelessness, and telepathy, and being one of the most respected persons in the world. Pheonixes are extremely rare, and to be chosen to bond with one is an honour anyone would give up nearly everything but their life to have. Then there is this matter of Dragonkin, which is essentially the granting of dragon blood to a person. It’s done at the time of the death of a dragon usually, and involves transferral of the dragon’s blood into the person, and all the dragon’s magic energy. Together the two begin a process that transforms the individual into a dragon. Unless they have enough will power to control the Koethe and dragon’s bloody working inside of them. Then it grants the owner the ability to polymorph into a dragon at will, all draconic attributes, so extremely sharp eyesight, hearing, incredible strength, tough skin and a huge boost in mental acuity. Plus they tap into the dragon kind’s latent telepathic link network between every dragon. As you've guessed, Rowan was able to control the transformation. Just. And it was only because he was a Giaide.” Jorsi said. Phil waited patiently.

“Giaide is the Lissi term for Warmasters, a select few chosen to go into a training ground that was created for the express purpose of training people who would have a higher aptitude for war. They succeeded beyond their wildest dreams. But the training process is hellish and lasts a minimum of thirty years in the training grounds time. Which is about three years real time. Giaide gain a mastery of six weapons and Grand Mastery of one. They learn generalship, politics, torture, discipline, and are pushed to beyond the limits of an ordinary creatures endurance. When the process of training is finished, a typical Giaide could arm wrestle Arnie with his pinkie and win easily. Their battle skills make your classes look like kiddies wielding toy swords and whacking at each other. Giaide are literally on a completely different level of existence and skill. But they’re rare, there are only ten in existence. Rowan and the nine that went into the training grounds with him. Each Giaide can match the others with their chosen weapons, but Rowan is the unspoken leader amoung them.” Jorsi finished.

Pascal’s eye twitched, “You mean Rowan’s like some kind of war god? Along with nine other dudes?” he asked incredulously.

“Essentially, any one of them makes the God of War look like a mincing pansy. Kratos wouldn’t stand a second against any one of them, even if they were blindfolded and tied up with steel ropes.” Jorsi said.

“Shit! What’re we here for then?” Pascal cried, “He could take on an army by himself, and thats without his training buddies!”

“Rowan is a force of Balance in the world. Dave, you went over that didn’t you?” Jorsi suddenly changed tack and targeted Dave.

Dave nodded, “Koethe is a balance based system. Like a quantum seesaw or something. It’s ultra complicated, and doesn’t make much sense. But crudely put, whatever exists in the world has it’s opposing force or being. Rowan is like an obese kid sitting on one side of the seesaw whenever he’s doing stuff and being a hero. When he isn’t, he’s more like the obese kid on a starvation diet. Koethe always works to balance major forces like Rowan, so the more he does, the faster kids get piled on the other side. Eventually the seesaw tips. If there’s a lot of kids on the other side, it tips really quickly; and Rowan ends up with one heck of a nasty enemy or enemies to take on. Ones that outmatch him. If he doesn’t do much, the kids get piled on slower and it not only takes longer for a destructive force to rise up to counter him, but they are on a more even playing field. You with me?”

“Haha. Rowan’s like good side’s ultimate nuke. He’s powerful, but you don't want to use him much.” Tessa laughed hard. “This magic stuff is funny. The good guy has to be alive to protect people, but because he’s alive bad things happen to them. That’s like the ultimate damper on heroism!” Tessa grinned at Jorsi, “Cool system.”

Jorsi inclined his head, “Thank you. It’s a twist on the ultimate hero concept that makes heroes almost as bad as they’re good. If not worse.”

Pascal shook his head, and smiled, “Well, you got me there. You just made Rowan’s very existence an existential dilemma between good and evil. No wonder he’s getting us to do the dirty work. If he does it, something worse might pop up.”

Jorsi nodded, “Now. Shall we continue with the game?” he asked politely, though it was more sarcastic then anything else.

“Who, what, why, when and where?” Phil said, seemingly out of the blue.

Jorsi took it in stride easily, “The reports haven't confirmed what, or who we’re dealing with, and divination spells dissipate around that area over there.” Jorsi said, circling an area of forest on the outskirts of the map, in the middle of a very thick wood, with his finger. “My guess is that we’re dealing with an archlich considerably more powerful then our skeletal friend over there.” Jorsi continued.

“Hey! I’m like a demi-god version of Hades!” Phil said.

“Then you’re enemy is the actual version of Hades.” Jorsi countered.

Phil scowled, “Damn.” then flicked a look at Dave and Pascal, who both wore an innocent look on their faces. So they were dealing with a godlike villian. Nice! Would have crossed their minds at some point.

Jorsi ignored the looks, and Tessa looked intrigued, but didn’t say anything.

“When do we need to deal with this... Sorcerer?” Dave asked.

“As soon as possible, if he is able to block one of my divination weaves, then he is extremely powerful, or in possession of something extremely powerful.” Jorsi said, as Rowan.

“Wait. Are there any architectural structures in that area?” Pascal squinted at the map thoughtfully.

“I believe that was the site of an ancient castle ruin. Not much more then a stone heap now. Or last we checked.” Jorsi said.

“Good. Then that’s where his power is coming from.” Pascal said, he looked at the others. “You ready?”

Phil shrugged, “Is there xp?” he asked.

Jorsi looked at Phil with a bemused expression on his face, “It’s the main quest, of course there’s xp.”

“There’d better be lots of it,” Phil said, then nodded, “Ok, I’m in.”

Everybody else just nodded or shrugged.

Jorsi didn’t even bat an eyelid at the fact that the greatest hero in his land had just got turned aside like an info desk, “Safe journey,” he said, then pulled out another map from underneath his chair, there was a small stack there.

“Alright, it takes the rest of the day to travel to Oldwood. You arrive, and find yourself looking at a forest that looks like its largets inhabitants are the squirrels chittering at you.” Jorsi said.

“Ok. We search for a trail leading in the direction we want to go.” Said Phil, “Who has the highest search check?” he asked everybody.

“I do. No competition.” Pascal said without a trace of modesty. He rummaged in the pocket of his trousers before pulling out a red velvet back and dumping the contents on the table. About twenty multi coloured dice tumbled onto the glass table with a clatter. Pascal consulted a nearby manual, before picking up several of the dice and rolling them.

“I get a 42. To search check.” Pascal said.

Jorsi checked a list in his hands, “Ok, that’s a success. You find an old cart track, it’s overgrown now, but still easily visible and will do well enough.” he said.

“Hmph. Always the old overgrown track.” Phil muttered, “Can’t we take the main road for once?”

“If you want to get mugged by bandits, sure.” Pascal said, “The creature tables are a lot nicer on abandoned tracks then a popular highway. Plus they aren’t armed with plasma weapons. Long range ones.”

Dave snorted, “I still wonder why you call it medieval fantasy when the typical spear could fry a tank and three hundred paces.” he said.

“Because they haven’t graduated from the medieval ages yet. They have technology, but their culture is still very much medieval in nature.” Jorsi said.

“I still think they should be more culturally advanced if the primary method of transport is a vehicle that can break the sound barrier three times over.” Dave said.

“Your opinion,” Jorsi said, “So you going down the track or not?” he asked.

“We’re going down the track.” Said Sarah firmly, nobody seemed to want to argue with her anyway.

“Alright. After many hours of travelling, the sun sets and you find yourselves unable to see through the thick coverage in the forest.” Jorsi said.

“And you walk into the slavering jaws of a grue. Game over.” Pascal said sarcastically, “Can we skip the travel arrangements and arrive at the castle?”

“Don't you want to stumble upon the secret entrance?” Sarah asked sweetly.

“Huh?” Tessa asked.

“It’s night time, dark, and we are going to a castle. We don't need to have a camping scene, but we do. So we are either going to get attacked by vicious forest dwellers -” Sarah was suddenly interrupted by Jorsi.

“There is a loud ululation and suddenly from the forest burst a small tribe of angry little men.” Jorsi said.

“- Or find a trapdoor to a secret passage,” Sarah finished, then looked at Tessa, “See? Even he can’t resist surrounding us with twenty or thirty angry little men.”

Jorsi grinned as he started pulling figurines out of a cloth bag and arranging them around several central figurines. Figurines that looked suspiciously like the actors from The Lord of the Rings.

Pascal groaned, “I was hoping for more storyline before being beset by people hellbent on taking my hide and urinating on it. I haven't even had a chance to steal anything yet.” he complained.

“Hey look at it this way, we get free xp, and Tessa uses her bonus feat against multiple attackers.” Phil said as he pulled out a dice bag much like Pascal’s.

A crafty look suddenly appeared in Pascal’s eye, “And I get to test out my leet sneak skillzs.” he said.

He rolled a twenty sided dice, “I got a natural forty three for hiding and an added bonus of twenty for a forest environment.” he said gleefully.

“You successfully sneak up a tree.” Jorsi said.

“Woo!” Pascal cheered, then checked himself, “Wait. Up a tree? What am I doing up a tree?”

“Hiding like a little coward?” Tessa asked, needling him.

Pascal ignored her and looked at Jorsi, who shrugged, “Where else would you go to set an ambush against thirty individuals?” he asked.

Pascal looked peeved, but saw the sense in it. He examined the table, “Where am I?” he asked.

Jorsi moved one of the figurines outside the circle of enemies, “There.” he said.

“I sneak attack!” Pascal rolled his dice, and scowled, “Dammit! I rolled a three!”

“You fall out of the tree with a loud thud. Two of the attackers turn around to investigate.” narrated Jorsi.

“Look! A distraction!” Cried Pascal.

“Are you serious?!” Tessa was incredulous.

“Ironically, it’s worked before.” Sarah said.

Jorsi rolled his eyes. They aren’t that dumb this time round.” he said.

“Alright! Alright! Enough of that crap. I’m rolling for diplomacy.” Sarah called out.

Pascal stopped in mid roll. “Awww, I was totally gonna try the distraction thing again.” he said mournfully.

Sarah just have him a look and rolled her dice, consulted her book, then looked at Jorsi with the air of one who has solved a thorny problem through thoroughly practical means, “If they can beat a diplomacy check of eighty three, they shouldn’t be forest dwellers.”

Jorsi chuckled, “You make several signs in the air indicating a peaceful enterprise and trading. The little men stop and one of them steps forward, gibbering at you in a foreign tongue.”

Sarah glanced at her feats list, “I should know that language, I took the Tradesman Multilingual feat. I know all the major languages and a fair few of the lesser ones. Plus, if I don’t, I can roll to see if I recognise the language.” she said.

Jorsi nodded, “Roll then, this is a forest dweller group, they aren't on anyone’s language list.” he said.

Sarah rolled, “I got 14.” she said, “Is that enough?”

Jorsi checked one of his myriad sheets of paper, “You recognise the language, but the dialect is so foreign that you can only make out the partial meaning.” he said.

“Better then nothing I guess.” Sarah said, “What’s he saying?”

“You manage to catch things about a castle, and cursed land, and unwelcome travellers.” Jorsi said.

“Well, we’d be the unwelcome travellers, and the castle is where we’re going, plus cursed land just means Sorcery has been at work.” Pascal said, “See if you can get them to guide us there.” he added to Sarah.

Sarah nodded, “Ok, I try to communicate with them, and tell them that we have come to speak with the evil in the castle and to get it to lift the curse on the land. I also ask if they can guide us to the place.” Sarah said.

“Roll for a language check. Don’t bother with diplomacy, yours is so high you’d succeed every time.” Jorsi said.

“18!” Sarah exclaimed, “That’s gotta get something!”

“You manage to translate enough of the language to put forth a passable imitation of it, and request that they guide you to the place they speak of. There is some hurried conversation between several of the little men before the leader steps forward and bows, clearly indicating that he has accepted your request. But, he says, he will only take you so far as the cursed land, you will have to find your own way after that.” Jorsi said.

“I thank him for his help and assure him that I will see to it that things return back to normal as soon as possible.” Sarah said.

“You are escorted by the band of little men for quite some leagues through thick forest before you find yourself at the edge of an area that is clearly blighted by something. The vegetation appears to have been cleared, and there is a stream that runs by nearby, it's colour indicates that it has gone badly foul. There is a pervading odour all around you of death and decay, and whatever would have grown in the cleared area appears to have died long ago.” Jorsi narrated in his clear, subtle story voice.

“Cool. Blighty evil stuff. Where’s the castle?” Phil said.

“The castle you have sought so much appears to be in the centre of the area of blight.” Jorsi said.

“Typical.” Phil said, “I suppose there’s a catch or something?”

“Well. If you take a close look around the area of blight, you’ll probably notice the fact that it’s dead. And that the only things moving are the ones decaying.” Jorsi said drily.

“What? There’s zombies?” Pascal asked.

“No. There’s dead stuff, decaying. There are no zombies.” Jorsi said.

“Awwww. Zombie killing would totally be awesome.” said Pascal.

Jorsi sighed, “Alright, what are you going to do?”

“Weeelll. Considering how the ground is probably poisonous. Use a levitation spell.” said Phil pragmatically, “You have one don’t you Dave?”

Dave checked his spell lists, “Why yes, I do actually. And it’s a mass levitation spell, and since it’s telekinesis related, I can hold it indefinitely.” he said.

“Excellent, we levitate to the castle." Phil said.

“Wait. No dice roles or anything? We just levitate there?” Tessa asked.

Jorsi, who didn’t look all that happy that his players had navigated a problem area with such ease, nodded, sighing, “It’s telekinesis. Which only has a strain, or wieght limit. One can hold it indefinitely as long as they don’t exceed their limit. Dave has a very high weight limit.” he said.

“How high?” Tessa looked at Dave.

Dave shrugged, “Three, four tonnes. I haven't done the calculations, but that seems to be about right.”

Tessa nodded in approval, “Just making sure you won’t drop us halfway through.”

“We’ve already passed it.” Phil said.

“Huh? When?” Tessa asked.

“When I said, ‘we levitate to the castle.’” Phil said.

“That was it? That wasn't a suggestion or anything? No plans. You just levitated to the castle.” Tessa said flatly.

“Yeah. Pretty much. You learn to not make things any harder after a while. If there aren’t any flying creatures mentioned, or sudden interuptions, you pretty much get there straight away.” Phil said.

“But...” Tessa looked shocked, as if something had been violated.

“But when we get to the castle, we find out that it’s a death trap.” Sarah said, “It happens every time. You get one thing easy, but then afterwards you have to call in the party cleric for resurrections. Except we don’t have a cleric this time round.” she said.

“You alight on the ramparts of the castle, which is extremely forbidding in nature. Built of black stone and spells, it is every gothic architects dream.” Jorsi started narrating again.

[Lord Blackstaff]

Ooooh. Big update. Lots of stuff happening now. The game truly has started and dice have started a rolling.

A new world awaits. New wonders to discover. The tale has only just begun, and new frontiers are there to wander upon.

In short. This is my favourite update so far. And were this a campaign I'd be saying, "LET THE GAMES BEGIN!"

Enjoy, and please tell me what you think if you've been reading. It's extremely encouraging to read people's comments. No matter what they think. It's very discouraging to get little feedback.

Anyways, onto the story!


“The stone walls are high, and partitioned by a series of towers that lance the sky. Carven statues of creatures you have never seen before scowl down at you, as if to warn you of traspassing.” He said.

“Got a map?” Phil asked as soon as Jorsi had paused in his description.

Jorsi sighed, and pulled out the map of the castle from under his chair, “You guys take all the fun out of being a GM.”

“Spare us, we all know what a gothic castle looks like, you can do descriptions later.” Phil said, “Dave, scan the castle for secrets.”

“Ok. Hope the roll is good.” Dave said as he fished out a dice bag from his pocket. Pouring the dice onto his lap, he picked out two d20’s and rattled them in his hand before casting onto the table. Dave scowled, “I hate my luck. A 14.”

Jorsi shrugged, “Can’t have everything easy.” he said as he marked several secret corridors into the castle, “Your divination is only partially successful, there is still a lot of Koethe blocking your abilities. You manage to divine the position of several entryways, but nothing significant.”

“Oh well. We probably should take the front entrance anyway.” Said Phil.

Tessa frowned, “Whyever the hell would you want to do that?” she asked.

“Front entrances aren’t trapped, only guarded.” Sarah said.

“Yeah. We don't have to deal with slimey monsters that are in the sewers, or giant spiders, or those bloody giant rats. Just the guards, if there are any.” Pascal said.

“But why?” Tessa asked.

“Simple. People always go in secret entrances, so they’re heavily trapped and guarded by hoardes of nasty creatures. And front entrances are for admitting people into the castle. Since that part is completely under the control of the owner of the castle, it’s hardly going to worry them if someone enters that way. Especially since they usually have a full view of the front door.” Pascal said.

“So what? We just waltz in the front door, kill all the guards, and hope we can talk with the villian?!” Tessa looked incredulous.

“Oh, I don't know about the talking part, but the rest is about right.” Phil said.

“You guys are wierd.” Tessa said.

“You get used to it.” Sarah said.

“That levitation spell still work?” Phil asked Dave.

“Unlimited castings, unless my hp is below a certain level, yeah, pretty much.” Dave said.

“Alright, we levitate to the front doors.” Phil said, “And we knock on the big knocker things.” he added quickly.

“We -” Tessa was about to protest.

Pascal rolled his eyes and interrupted her, “Yes, Spikey, we knock. It’s proper etiquette to let your enemies attack first. That way we don’t kill anybody we aren’t supposed to.” he said impatiently.

“You call me that again and I will throw something at you!” Tessa cried.

“Sure, Spikey, whatever.” Pascal said, grinning at her. Tessa made a face and lobbed a book at him. Pascal ducked, “Hey!”

“I warned you.” Tessa said smugly.

“I thought you were joking, dammit!” Pascal said.

Tessa smiled maliciously at him, and completely missed the despairing looks that passed between Phil and Dave.

“Alright, enough of that.” Jorsi said, “The mighty twin doors you've just knocked on open with a loud groaning and creaking. The interior of the entry hallway is dark and light sparsely by glowing blue globes. Rows of collumns, their sheer sides covered in writhing engravings, march down on either side of the doors to the end; where a great iron throne sits. From what little you can see, the throne is fashioned after the skeleton of some mighty beast. Though what beast, you cannot tell from here. After the rolling thunder dies out, the area falls eerily silent.” Jorsi continued.

“No enemies. Shit.” Pascal said.

“You should go in first. Hide and see if you can find anything.” Phil said.

“Hell no! I ain’t getting myself strung up on the rafters! You’re undead, you can’t die. You go!” Pascal cried.

“I’m hardly the best of candidates to be entering an undead hallway, we like our turf unscathed by competition.” Phil said.

“Oh you bunch of pussies. I’ll go.” Tessa said, “I enter the hallway.”

“We peer in after her.” Pascal said.

“Your concern is appreciated.” Tessa said sarcastically.

“The hallway is silent as you enter it alone, you can hear no sound but for the echoes of your footsteps vanishing into the vastnesses above.” Jorsi said.

“Spoooky.” Pascal put on a menacing undertone.

“Ok. So I look around.” Tessa said.

“You see little except for the pillars, and doors that lead off into the depths of the castle.” Jorsi said, pulling out a sheet from under his chair and placing it on the table. It was a diagram of the hallway.

“She isn’t dead yet?” Pascal asked.

“No. She isn’t dead.” Jorsi said.

“Alright, I’m following her in.” Dave said.

“We’re all going in.” Anya said.

“The hallway echoes with the sounds of your footsteps as you approach your companion. The doors close behind you with a rolling boom.” Jorsi said.

“Damn!” Pascal said, “I knew that was going to happen!”

“The entire hallway suddenly lights up. Windows set in the walls suddenly open, flooding light into the chamber, lights burst into blue flame on chandeliers set high up in the roof and the blue globes light up all down the corridor of pillars. You hear a deep voice cry, ‘Let there be light! He said! And there was Light!’ A figure in deep black robes suddenly appears rising from the throne. ‘What brings you here travellers?’ It says in that same deep voice. You notice that the throne isn’t made of iron. It’s made from the bones of a dragon.” Jorsi said.

“We were informed that you were caused trouble.” Phil said.

“Actually, it’s unlawful use of Sorcery.” Dave said.

“Oho! Unlawful use of Sorcery! Says who?” Cries the figure on the throne as it sits back down.

“The An’Mahhe himself.” Dave said.

“Does he now? And I suppose he didn't have the resources to send a proper group down to chastise me, hmmm?” Jorsi said.

“We are the group, Archlich. This can be sorted out without undue difficulty if you allow us to work with you.” Dave said.

“Oh? You know I’m an Archlich, do you? How so?” Jorsi said.

“I’m a Psion. I know the mental signature of every thing that lives, and is dead. My companion here is an Archlich also, so I’ve hardly missed out on that category.” Dave said.

“Roll for bluff.” Jorsi said.

“What’s going on?” Tessa asked Sarah.

“Dave’s bluffing, he’s trying to secure a peaceful alternative. So we don’t have to fight a boss before we’ve actually worked him out.” Sarah said.

“A boss?” Tessa asked.

“Yeah. The big daddy. The head honcho. The dude who runs the show. They’re the guys you meet after slaughtering all their henchmen, and take absolutely ages to kill.” Pascal said.

The dice rattled on the table, “Good thing I maxed out bluff, it’s a class skill of mine.” Dave said, “I got a bluff check of sixty four.”

Jorsi rolled his dice, “You had to beat a seventy. You fail.” he said.

“Dammit! Why can’t we fight the henchmen first?” Pascal cried.

“It's more interesting this way.” Jorsi said, smiling. He was clearly enjoying himself.

Pascal muttered something, and rolled his dice, “Eighty two to hiding in plain sight.” He said.

Jorsi placed the suspiciously Lord of the Rings figurines in a cluster in front of the throne on the map, with one that looked like Sauron on the throne. “You vanish from sight all of a sudden.” he said without glancing at his notes.

“Woo! Sneak attack time!” Pascal wooped.

“I draw my blades and begin my battle focus.” Tessa said.

“I cast Horrific Warding around the group.” Phil said.

“Oh my! Gearing up for battle so soon?” Jorsi asked, “But we’d only just started chatting. Oh, and by the way. No I will not be working with the Mahhe, but thank you for the offer.”

“Then this has to stop. Now.” Dave said.

“Really? And how to you propose to do that?” Jorsi asked.

“By putting Soul Bleeder through your thick skull! Titanic Leap! Sneak Attack!” Pascal cried theatrically, and fished four glowing dice from his pocket. A deep blue light pulsed in their triangular innards.

“Good lord! Where did you get those?” Phil asked, his eyes widening at the sight of the dice.

“Found them for sale at one of those junk stores. Best twenty bucks I’ve ever spent. These are totally my new lucky dice.” Pascal said. He flicked the dice onto the table, “Let’s see exactly how lucky!”

Time seemed to slow, the dice hit the table with individual strikes that sounded like thunder claps. Dooom. Thund. Crack! Krunnnn. There was a loud whistling sound as the dice spun, then righted themselves and hovered above the table, spinning slowly. The room had warped, colours shifting into greys.

“Oh shit.” Pascal said, his voice warping and distorting, so that the syllables were almost unrecognisable.

There was a low whumph. And the dice all pulsed brilliantly, the began pulsing in unison.

“Identifying Dimensional Carriers.” A low voice spoke. It sounded slightly masculine, but nobody could tell for sure. “Eight Carriers Identified. Proceeding to Identify Dimension." The voice continued.

“What the fuck is going on?” Tessa’s voice was even more distorted as colours rippled and flickered about the room. The sheets of paper scattered all about the floor crackled and flipped about the room, flashing brilliant reds, blues and greens as they moved.

“Processing. Ten Ticks Remaining.” The voice spoke again.

“Shit! I dunno! I've never seen this happen before!” Pascal shouted, seeming the panic slightly. Though it could have been the distortion.

The room warped even more, then rippled and thrummed as if some great string had been struck. It’s deep tone shook their bodies.

“Dimension Identified. Opening Gate.” The voice continued implacably.

“Cancel! Shut Down! Exit! Terminate! Control Alt Delete! Ahhhh! Die! Stop!” Pascal screamed out desperately, “Shit!”
The room chimed again, this time with a tone that shook the building with a deep thundering Dooooom. The whole room warped as if struck by a large ball, then vanished. The group was surrounded by darkness and a deep humming sound.
“Gate Established. Travelling To Destination.” The voice chimed in emotionlessly.
“Oh, we are sooo fucked." Pascal said despairingly. Just before the darkness blinked into a blinding flash of colours that twisted and warped around them. The dice flickered and hummed, their blue glow flashing out brilliantly, enveloping the group as they flashed into the unknown.
“Ten Ticks To Arrival.” The voice said.
The group looked at each other, some horrified. Some frightened, some bewildered. And Jacko just looked in awe.



Chapter 3 - A New World


There was a loud whistling sound. The colours spun out of control, then vanished with a great tearing shriek. Several members of the group winced.

“Arriving At Destination. Transferring Carriers.” The voice echoed strangely arouind them.

I felt a terrible wrenching feeling, and blacked out. The last thing I heard was Pascal wailing, “I am never taking LSD again!”

When I came to I found myself staring into a grey overcast sky. Dreary clouds drifted slowly across my vision, sillhouetting the tree branches in the way.

I sat up suddenly. This wasn’t Jorsi’s house! I whipped around, trying to work out where I was. But there was nothing but the clearing, people staggering about and trees.

Wait! People! I tried to get up, overbalanced and would have fallen if I hadn’t collided with a tree. I winced, and rubbed my ears as a shrill scream resounded about the clearing. One of the people, it was a woman, was clutching at herself and shaking. ”My balls!” She cried, “My balls! They’re gone!” She slid to her knees, “Oh blithering fucking Merde!” She tried to get up, reeled, and fell over, then threw up in a bush.

I lost what happened next because my mind blitzed. I lost all sensation as I was suddenly inundated with information. Concepts and rules flashed into my mind, were there, then gone as soon as they’d appeared. I cried out in pain as the torrent of information seemed to widen.

I have no idea how long it took, only that it felt like an eternity before the torrent slowed to a trickle, then vanished all together. Leaving my head feeling like someone had pummeled it like homemade bread dough and virtually crackling with knowledge.

I sat up gingerly, and leaned against the tree, surveying everything. I felt a new sense begin to impign upon my awareness. Voices, no wait, they were entities, separate entities. They seemed to have a direction, a fact somewhere told me that they were the minds of those nearby. I looked about, and then another fact informed me that it would be impolite to intrude on their minds, and how to withdraw. I closed myself off. And just watched.

A small, pale woman, her visage an image of beauty that literally took my breath away was comforting the woman who’d been screaming earlier. The woman in question was sobbing hysterically and curled up in a little ball.

A robed figure was leaning against a tree, holding its head. Wait. That wasn’t a head. It was a skull. The figure raised it’s skeletal features and looked at me. Flames, coloured a brilliant violet, burned in its eye sockets. My breath caught in my throat, then I did a double take. The robes, skeleton, violet fire. That was Phil’s character description!

What the hell?

I stared down at my own hands, they were calloused, hardened by years of rough work. I stared down at myself. I was wearing a blue-grey robe. A pendant, made of... Silver? No Styrium, a fact informed me. The pendant was a warding charm against mental effects and brought clarity to the mind. I lifted the bottom of my robe, I was wearing thick leather trousers. Just as specified in my character description. That meant... I should have a staff somewhere... My mind was working hard at ignoring what had just happened, in favour of the practical. I was doing. Acting out the mechanical necessities that let me work things out. It was a defense mechanism I had taught myself a long time ago, and was how I dealt with numerous things in life.

I looked about, searching. There! The staff was lying somewhere near where I suppose I must have entered this place. It should be made of solid Ashwood, the pale colour and facts in my mind confirmed this. That meant it was enchanted to strengthen the mind, and body, as well as containing bindings that strengthened the wood to near invincibility. I crawled over and tried to stand with it supporting me. It took two tries, but I finally managed to stand on shaky feet. The world spun for a moment, and I reeled and nearly fell again, but managed to stagger upright as my vision cleared.

A pale... Elf? Was leaning against a beatiful, but hard faced woman, whose fierce countenance informed me that she would not be welcoming any interference. Twin blades sat on her hips, and a shimmering tunic covered her torso. Her leggings were covered a grey metal, Daerim Steel my facts informed me. Greaves, they were called. I remembered. Her boots were Daerim steel as well. Other armour pieces seemed to be scattered about her, but I was still too fuzzy to identify them. She must be Tessa, which meant that the one leaning against her was Sarah, a Skrael Bladesinger and Wood Elf Merchenter Knight Protector. White armour was piled up beside her, as was a pair of beautifully crafter swords in their scabbards.

I looked about some more, Jacko should be here, and what happened to Jorsi? The beautiful woman must be Anya, she was an Ancient, I remembered. Which meant that the woman she was comforting was Pascal.... That poor bastard. No wonder he’d been screaming.

There was a faint thrumming sound, then a voice wafted through the leaves:

“Oh we’ll be a wanderin’
Though the sky’s a thunderin’
Me tummy’s all a rumblin’
And me blade’s a sunderin’”

A figure staggered weakly and flopped against the tree, his ruggedly handsome face looking bewildered as he strummed on a lute. He stopped for a moment, and reached around the tree to pull out a pack that was... well, not that full. He caste about, then looked at me, and grinned weakly. Holding up his lute, he said, in a voice that I swear should have made birds alight on him, if he’d been in a Disney movie, “Not too different right?” He cast about vaguely, “I think this is Jorsi’s campaign...” he said.

INDEED. IT IS.

Everybody jumped at the rumbling voice that sounded all about us. There was a cough like a thunderclap.

Ah. There we are. Sorry. I’m still getting used to this god business. The other coupla thousand are very helpful, so I should be ok.

This time I heard the voice in my head. Jacko, that was who I guessed the bard was, said, “Jorsi? Are you a god?!” He had managed, in two sentences, to state the reality of things before any of us. I was quite surprised.

Yes, quite. I’ll explain things to you later, but essentially, we appear to have been transported into my campaign world. Except this is a real world, and vastly different from my imaginings. The dice appear to have vanished, thus we currently have no way to return home. Which is perhaps very unfortunate.

My legs suddenly felt weak and I sat down. So we were in Jorsi’s campaign world. I suddenly felt such a bleakness that things almost went grey. No way home... I felt shattered, my beliefs. I’m a Christian, and God did not exist here. Here there was a thousand gods. Maybe more. The beliefs that had sustained me for so long were all of a sudden completely invalid. Wait. Not entirely. I could still follow the dictates to which I subscribed to. For they were valuable life lessons, and rules to live by. But... Lord. All gone. I felt myself leaning against a tree. This was going to take a long time to get used to.

A very long time.



Chapter 4 - Plans


“So. What’re we gonna do?” Phil said, his fires burned brighter and dimmer as his gravelly voice sounded about the clearing.

It was dark, and after the initial shock had faded, we had picked up firewood, which I had used my knowledge of camping from my earlier lifetime overseas to build the fire into a merry blaze that warmed us all and seemed to bring a cheer to all those about it.

The Skrael warrioress, Bladesinger I remembered, held out her hands to the blaze. The blue tattoes running along her facial contours emphasised the high cheekbones and sharp features, giving her a wild beauty that now stared into the fire moodily. Blue eyes looked up, at me, I held them for a time, and she seemed to acknowledge something, though what it was, I couldn’t say. She looked back into the fire, “Is there a way to return?” her voice was hard, slightly chilly. And there was a deadly undertone that told me that her learning was more instinctive, then knowledge based.

Yes. It is possible to create a portal and trace the path of the dice back to their origin. But only the elder gods and those similar to them in power could create and sustain one for long enough to transport all of you and I back to Earth.

“Is this the only path?” Tessa asked. Her features betrayed nothing of what she was thinking.

Yes. We gods are omniscient, and I have been permitted to give you information that would otherwise be banned, by the Creator himself. This is the only way to return.

“Then that is what we will do.” Tessa said.

“So we convert everybody to the worship of GM. Sounds like a plan.” Pascal, or his now female body, Elya, said sarcastically. Where Tessa’s beauty was wild and hard edged, Elya’s was softer, sultry. The difference between them could not have been greater, but I could not say who was more attractive.

“Do you have a better plan. Thief.” Tessa spat.

“Unless we could petition the Elder gods to get us out of here?” Pascal said to the air in general.

We could not. The Elder gods have already refused, as have all the others who have enough power. Envoré, the Creator god has refused us this. Though why, I cannot say.

“Alright. Convert the infidels it is.” Pascal said.

[Lord Blackstaff]

Wheee! Over five thousand words and a little bit of a cliff hanger while I work out this ladies name. Enjoy! A little bit of philosophical thought for those who enjoy it. Though it's hardly much of a debate.

Anyways, got plenty to go through, but I've also gotten through quite a bit. Along with a few subtle jokes for those who find them.

Enjoy the tale!:



“Alright. Convert the infidels it is.” Pascal said drily, his, her? I was going to have to ask him about that, eyes were red rimmed from crying earlier.

Then he shook his head, “I can’t believe I just said that. Religion is a shitty thing to kill people over.” he growled.

“Hey GM, you got a domain?” Phil called in his grating voice.

There was no answer for a moment, then Jorsi’s voice sounded in their heads.

I do. It seems. It seems that Envoré has granted me a domain along with all the other boons. This is strange indeed. I believe he has a purpose for us. And it may come at a great cost. Nevertheless, unlike most other gods. I do indeed have a specific domain. That of travellers. Should they ever wish to know. I am the god of travellers. I am supposed to keep the paths safe.

“Then so it shall be.” Tessa’s icy voice broke the momentary silence afterwards.

“Wait. Wait. What’s this about a cost? And a purpose? Are you telling us that Envoré or whoever this overgod dude is, is gonna start fucking with us?” Pascal’s very much womanly voice was as different from Tessa’s as it was probing.

Envoré has a purpose for all. And we are now in his domain, whether we like it or not. He has given me liberties none of the other gods are allowed, and closed off others. He is preparing us for something. In all likelihood, we may have a large part to play in the war that is coming.

“War! Fuck no! I ain’t fighting in no war!” Pascal called out vehemently.

I don’t think you’ll have much choice. Envoré isn’t the only one who has noticed our arrival. Powers both good and evil witnessed our entry into this world. And every Mahhe worth his salt felt mine and yours appearence. When Envoré calls. Nobody refuses him.

“I’m refusing him dammit!”

I cut in, “Pas. This is the overgod. Even in our world you could resist the call of God.”

“I still don’t think your God exists.”

“I’ve seen too much, and met too many who’ve witnessed or experienced his work first hand to deny his exhistence. Too many coincidences -”

“Yeah, we’ve had this discussion. Make your point.”

“My point is that, just as the call of God in our world drives people to cast away everything they had once known - and you can’t deny this has happened.”

Pascal nodded.

“Just like our world. Envoré’s call may very well be irresistable. He has complete control over everything remember.”

Pascal sat in silence for a long time, firelight lighting his palely beautiful face with a flickering golden glow, “I always denied the exhistence of God. You know I don’t give a shit about religion. No matter what you say about looking to the Bible and Jesus. Not his followers. Hell, his followers are supposed to be his examples. Who else are we to look to?” It was a rhetorical question, so nobody bothered answering it. “And now I find myself in a place where not only are there gods, but that they literally manifest them in the world. In our world, you could say God didn’t exist, and it was a moot point, because the proof didn't stack up either way. You only found him if he tugged at you, or if you searched good and hard. And, shit, I was too scared to. I sorta knew what I was gonna find.” Pascal rubbed his eyes, and leaned forward, heating his hands over the fire, “And now this. Now I’m getting called by a god in a completely different world.” He snorted, “Talk about a religious experience.” he fell silent, his lovely face moody, dark.

There was a silence then. Save for the sounds of the forest, and the crackling of the fire. I put another log on it, from the stack beside me, and sat in silence with the rest of us. Nobody knew what to say. There was really nothing to say. Pascal was right, I was the only person who had any religious tendencies at all, and to be faced with it in such a blatant form was... well, shocking. I myself didn’t know what to do, I wasn't just in a foreign land with the sense that I had my Lord invisibly beside me. I was in a foreign world where his reach did not exist. And I didn’t like the idea of following another god any more than they did. Except to me it felt like a betrayal.

“So what do we do?” Jacko asked at last. His handsome features looked worried. Lost.

Nobody said anything. Nobody knew what to say. Tessa's cold features were hard, Phil’s skull was cocked in thought and Pascal was lost in his own thoughts. Anya and Sarah seemed content to sit.

“We find the nearest city. Or the nearest person who needs help, and trade faith for deeds.” I said, “And we wait to see what happens.” I sighed, “There’s nothing else we can do.”

“Trade faith for deeds?” Jacko was quizzical, “You mean, like, do side quests and instead of getting paid, get them to believe in GM, or worship him or whatever?”

I nodded.

“Oh.” Jacko looked at the fire, as if he was disappointed, “Kinda anti-climactic, donchu think?”

“Hnh. We’ll get our climax, I think. This is just the beginning of the story. And I think, perhaps, that the end is very far away. Perhaps we will never truly es-” I was interrupted in my musings by Pascal.

“Don't say that. You might jinx us. You never know what the magic in this place will do.” Pascal interjected hoarsely.

“All our character’s have a minimum life span of seven hundred years.” I spoke quietly. “We will succeed perhaps, in time. But I wonder if we will want to leave, in the end.”

Everybody looked surprised, well, except Phil, who couldn't look surprised if he wanted to, and Anya, whose expression never changed from a serene peacefulness.

“Why do you say that?” Tessa asked, turning her chilly gaze on me. I have to admit, it was unnerving. Her eyes were an icy blue. That light, cold as ice type. The type that looks like it’ll freeze you in an instant.

I cleared my throat, “Think about it. How long will it take us to realistically gather enough followers of GM? If his implications were correct, then we’ll have to start a major world religion before there are enough followers. And if people like Rowan exist-”

Oh. He exists. As does his brother. And the other eight who trained with them. And countless others.

“Then we’ll be going against what could very well be much like Catholicism, or Islam, or Christianity back in our world.” The words felt like deadweights coming from me. I knew that trying to change world religions like that was as fruitless as trying to move Ayers rock single handedly.

Unfortunately. You are correct. The current prevailing religion is the worship of Envoré. And it is very much like the Catholic religion.And it was started by Rowan. Though you are lucky. Because there are so many gods, there are many, perhaps enough, who pray to multiple gods depending on their domain or tendencies, that you could complete the endeavour. But it will still be extremely difficult.

“If there’s a chance. We have to take it.” Tessa said, “If, like Dave says, we prefer to stay, then that's how it will be. But until that point. We must try to return home.”

I nodded in agreement.

“The power of faith is unlike any other force in the world.” Anya mused, “Strike a spark in the right place. And you will have such a conflagration that all the water in the world could not put it out. The fervour of the faithful is a thing that is at once terrible, and wonderful to behold.”

There was another long silence. Nobody needed to say anything.

After a while, a long while, Pascal yawned, and stretched, catlike. “Whelp. I’m going to bed. I’ve been royally fucked in the ass and I can’t think right now.” he murmered sleepily.

There was a general murmur of agreement. “I’ll take the night watch, till a few hours before dawn.” I said, “Who wants to take the last bit?”

“My body is trained to deal with this, wake me when the time comes.” Tessa stood and stretched.

“How come you don’t need to sleep?” Jacko asked.

“Mahhe training, and part of the Psion bundle. We don’t need much sleep due to Koethe sustenance, and we can enter a trance while walking or moving. A sort of waking sleep.” I said, then looked at Phil, “You, unfortunately, do need to rest. Few of your abilities will work without a proper meditation session to connect with Koethe and whatever the hell else you need to touch.”

Phil shrugged a bony shoulder, “I wasn't going to dispute that.” he grated, “But afterwards you and I will take night watches. I because I don’t need sleep, and you because you barely need it.”

I nodded and got up. Muscles creaked and bones clicked as a stretched and twisted to get the kinks out of my body. Picking up my staff, I wandered into the edge of the clearing, and as soon as I wondered if I had a scanning ability or something, that little voice that had helped me all evening informed me that I simply needed to spread my consciousness, like so. I copied the process that had suddenly flashed into my head, and was nearly unbalanced as I [i]expanded[/]i. That’s the only way I can describe it. I just sort of, spread out. I concentrated and brought the radius down to about three hundred metres. I can tell where every leaf on every tree was within that three hundred metres. I brushed every mind and knew the precise location of every fox and insect. It was almost overwhelming, except that something was taking the brunt of the information. I reached up and my fingers brushed a circlet.

What was this? I only noticed it as soon as I touched it. Strange... wait! This must be that memory band thing that Jorsi had made us all buy. I pulled it off, and was nearly completely lost in a storm of information and sheer knowledge coming from my area scan. I put it back on hastily and the disorientation faded.

Ok, that was a bad idea. No wonder the Mahhe used them. Memory bands were highly complex pieces of magic, Koethe weaving the band informed me, and were partially sentient. Being able to tell when to divulge information and when to simple hold it, or even lock it away. They stored every memory a person had ever had in their lifetime, and also sort of ‘uncluttered’ the brain. Wait. Where was this information coming from? The memory band informed me that it was completely melded with my thoughts and mind, if I wished, it could distinguish itself from me. I confirmed that.

It continued its info dump. Memory bands, though very difficult to make, were one of the default things taught to every Mahhe. As their use was essential in clearing the mind and allowing for the weaving of the more complex Koethe tapestries. Tapestries? I wondered. The memory band informed me that this term was generally used because of the way in which Koethe was manipulated, being very much like the weaving of a tapestry by a housewife, and sometimes the weaves were so long and complex that they took literally days to run through. Without a memory band, a Mahhe was nearly useless, unable to complete even the simplest of weaves as their memory could not hold the necessary information to keep track of all the... Variables. The pause told me it was translating the word.

So memory bands held the information, and delivered it at the same time? I queried. I recieved an affirmative. They expanded the capacity of the mind to hold knowledge as they acted as a storage point. Heh. I thought. RAM for the mind. Awesome!

I thought back to the beginning, our arrival here. How come Anya had been able to comfort Pascal then? She must surely have thousands of years of knowledge, in her band.

The process of transferring knowledge to the attainment of skills was known as memory training. The band informed me. And the original ‘necessity’- Explain necessity I queried. There was a pause as the memory band scanned my mind. Programming, it returned. The original programming, upon our transferrence into our characters and this world, had been to train us in our given skills and leave all other exteraneous information for when it was needed. I was a Mahhe, it informed me, and my skills were many and by necessity needed to be transferred into my subconsious as soon as possible. So that I could call on them when needed. Anya was a Songsmith, and Pheonix Song was an inherent ability, needing no training or understanding in its use. Thus, her real knowledge, that of lore and songs, would be told to her when needed. Equally, many of the others had the same lack of necessity in their learning. Excepting the knowledge of combat moves, which was more instinctive, then knowledge based. Nevertheless, the needed far less transferred to their subconscious then I.

I mulled that over for a moment. It made sense. I sat on a boulder nearby, and leaned my staff beside me. It would be a long night. And I didn’t feel in the least bit tired. I was surprised. I was so used to being tired I hadn’t noticed it at first. But I actually felt quite refreshed, invigorated even. Strange.

Psion’s have little need for sleep, as their mind has been trained to work differently. Their mind has also changed due to the nature of their profession, and needs very little sleep. My memory band informed me.

That’s nice. Though it would have been useful back on Earth. I jumped down from the rock, feeling restless. And began pacing around the clearing, in the darkness. Not that it mattered. I could sense everything anyway. Pacing was how I passed time. I had never been able to sit still all my life. I always itched to be moving if I wasn't.

The night was young, but the moon that hung in the sky was but a sliver. It the stars I could see through the trees were glorious, but alien. They painted a tapestry of colour, and shimmering beauty that took my breath away. I had always loved to see the stars. And had been in enough out of the way places to have had the privelege of looking upon their wonder back on Earth. And these stars, though nothing like it, were equally beatiful. It was no wonder that we had always found such wonder in them, and indeed, mysticism. For they were a mystical thing, stars. Even though they were simply burning balls of gas, they inspired a wonder in man that nothing else did. Except perhaps love, or truth, or beauty. Or perhaps a newborn child. Who knows. There are a great many things that inspire wonder in a man.

The trees were starting to lighten as my night sight kicked in, and I could see where I was going now. The trees were sort of sighing in a light breeze that wafted through them. It was a cool night, but not uncomfortably so. It was summer time my memory band informed me. I could smell that rich smell of loam and growing things. And that fresh smell of clean water, from a stream I could sense nearby.

****

Time passed, and I paced around the fire. My companions and friends had long ago fallen asleep, and I found myself wandering alone in the silence of the forest. Though really. It wasn’t a silence, because I could hear the sighing of the trees, and the chirruping of crickets and other small insects. The fire, popping occasionally as it burnt down. I had added more wood, on accasion.And there was the bubbling, trickling sound of the stream rushing on it’s path. It was deep enough to wash in, which would make the ladies happy, no doubt.

I wandered on, I had practised some of my abilities earlier, and had found that they came quite easily. Very easily indeed actually. But I was still crude in their use, but that would come in time. I had found, all of a sudden, that I did not feel like using them. I had just wanted to enjoy the solitude of the night watch.

I found, though, that that was coming to an end. I had caught the mind of a young skrael approaching stealthily. The intent was one of interest, not of any particularly malicious form. I continued my pacing, quite aware that I was like a foghorn comparatively. When she was quite close, and sort of following along beside me, at about thirty paces or so, and coming closer, I called out genially, “Nice night for a walk, isn’t it?”

The creeping stranger, startled, straightened, and walked the last few paces between us normally. Though her normal was still soundless to my ears. I leaned against my staff and waited, flicking on a little werelight above my head. It had been the first thing I’d tried, apart from ripping a tree out, then planting it again. And the weaves came as naturally as breathing. I sort of just summoned that stuff called Koethe, and then bent it to my will, sort of told it to do this, or that. And it did it.

She entered the small pool of blue radiance around me, and we stood examining each other. I kept my mind studiously out of hers, though the temptation was certainly there. I was, I had been informed sharply at one point by my memory band, a grave breach of trust and horribly impolite to delve into another’s mind without their explicit consent.

“You wander in paths long forgotten Mahhe. How comes it that I have not seen you or your companions before?” Asked the Skrael quietly. So as not to wake the others. She was a lithe, fair thing. Pale as all Skrael are, long hair the colour of dark honey was left free and unfettered. She wasn’t beautiful like Pascal, or Tessa. And had nothing on Anya, but she was attractive. I had an inkling that Skrael women were, by and large, probably quite attractive. Largely because their culture would keep them fit and strong.

I decided that an answer would be best along the lines of truth, “We don’t come from here. How we came here, we don’t know. And we’ve only just arrived."

A slight frown crossed her features, “But you are from these lands. I would recognise my kind anywhere.”

“We... Changed. In our world we are not as we are now.” I said softly.

Her face cleared, “Ah. You come from another world. My brother is amoung the Mahhe, and he speaks often of their attempts to breach the dimensions. It seems you have succeeded where they have failed.” her voice had a sort of lilt to it. Combined with harsher syllables in a language that was immediately translated for me by my memory band, it was a strange combination. I realised that the memory band was causing me to speak in her language automatically. A fact I was quite grateful for.

“We did it by accident, and had no intention of doing so. Now we are lost in a world we do not know, and cannot return. Our world has no Koethe, or anything to the like. Whatever took us here, did not come from it.” I answered.

She shrugged, “I can tell you are not from here. You walk like a mountain dragon. All amoung my kind at least know how to walk quietly.”

I coughed, “You are remarkably calm. And I am surprised you even believe me.”

“Your world does not have Koethe. Stranger things have happened. You speak truth, and one does not say such things unless they are mad. You are not mad.”

“I might be. I might just be very good at hiding it.”

“I have seen madness. You are not mad.”

“Alright. But it still seems strange that you barely seem to care. And are talking to me as if I am an old aquaintance.” We were walking side by side now, around the clearing. And I was indeed very surprised at the way she was acting. This was not how normal people acted.

“You interest me.”

“I could be dangerous. Or a highwayman.” I said mildly, “How do you know I’m not going to try to mug you or something.” I guessed the mug translated quite differently. And hoped it didn’t come off as a serious transgression, like rape. My memory band informed me that I should not fear.

She flicked her hand and there was a quiet schiiiik. A baton that she had had on her belt suddenly elongated and flattened out at the end. There was a hiss and she was suddenly holding a lightweight, and very deadly spear. My memory band informed me, after a brief scan of my memories, that we would know it as a plasma spear. Extremely expensive, but also very very dangerous. To the inexperienced wielder and foe alike.

I took a step to the side, “Ok. You’re dangerous, and can take care of yourself. Point taken.”

She smirked, and the spear returned to its baton shape with a schiiik and a click. She returned it to her belt, “I am a huntress. I have wandered these lands hunting for the king for sixty turns. I know well how to take care of myself.”

“Sixty turns.... You are more than sixty years old?” I was shocked, then remembered that the average Skrael lived for more the seven hundred. I decided not to tell her I had thought she was only twenty odd. My memory band confirmed that as a wise decision.

She looked at me askance, and I hastily followed up with an apology, “I’m sorry. I spoke hastily. I did not intend to be rude.” I noticed that my speech patterns were changing already. Typical me. I adapted to new situations rather quickly, and a lot of who I was could be said to be an ever shifting mask. The core, I had worked out after some years, stayed the same. But it was hidden deep, and I only presented a very shallow version of it. Let them dig, if they wanted to truly know me.

She laughed and jolted me out of my reverie, “I take no offense offworlder, I have lived one hundred and sixty eight turns of the sun.” I blinked, and she smiled at me amiably, “But you would be wise to hold your tongue stranger, there are many who would take offense.”

I nodded my thanks.

We walked in silence for a time, I checked the stars, and hoped my memory band had some way of telling the time by them, or the moon. To my relief, it did, somewhere past midnight I was told. A good few hours more then.

“What is your name stranger?” She said suddenly.

“Uhhh. Which one? The one for this body? Or the one from my world?” I wondered.

“The one from your world.”

“Uhhh. Dave. That’s what they call me.”

“Daaave. It is a strange name. You have no father? No family? Or mother?”

I thought for a moment, then realised that a first name without a second probably indicated an orphan, or a bastard. I coughed, “Aston. Dave Aston. Aston is my family name.”

“Asston. Strange. What is the name for this world?”

“Hélegund Nír Hélbrünst.” The syllables sounded foreign to me, and I was still getting used to the language. I could tell I was bad, because of the way she hid a smile when she first heard me speak.

She brightened, “That is better!” Then something crossed her features. I’m not sure what it was, but it looked a bit like trepidation, or respect. “Those are powerful names. Hél... it is our word for fire. Not just any fire. The kind that burns without end.”

“Names are important, aren't they.” I said quietly.

She nodded, “Here. A name is a defining thing. Less so then a true name. But defining still.”

“What do they mean? In full?” I asked.

“Hélegund, it means... Firebrand literally, but it is not so simple. As it derives it’s origin from one of several words, those for heart, brand, mind, and hearth. I am not a Mahhe, or one who studies words, but I know it has in it’s meaning as one who is driven, a flame that will never go out. A burning brand that beats back the darkness. A light to others. It has in its meaning one who burns, but with a heat that will scorch those who come too close. It has in its meaning one who us also like a hearthfire, warm, and welcoming. One who brings people together, and gives life to the cold. Hélbrünst, that holds in its meaning words for fire mountains, and wrath. It holds heat, and hate. But it also holds protection, and life.” She glanced at me, “You must be confused. The meaning behind names can be strange to outsiders.”

I paused for a moment, “No. No I understand.” I snorted wryly, “It is an ironic name, it seems.”

She looked intrigued, “Why do you say that?”

I wondered how much to tell her. The truth my memory band quipped. It seemed to be gaining personality. Advanced Koethe weaving, it told me. It was almost fully sentient. And could express and understand emotion. I wondered exactly how good or bad that was. Good, I was calmly informed. I wasn’t so sure.

“My heart is as cold as a stone in the winter snows. I care nought for the things of this world, or for things I should care about. I know why, and have little choice in the matter. I would change, if I could. But the heart walks where it will, and I cannot even guide it.” I told her quietly.

She touched my shoulder quietly, “Enjie. I am sorry.”

My memory band did a double take and it took a couple of moments - the moments of thought, that is - for it to do the mental equivalent of a cough, and then spluttering, explain to me that Enjie was an endearment usually reserved for close friends, or lovers. I decided that feigning ignorance and smiling slightly blankly at her words would keep us from going there. I dipped my head in thanks, a sign of respect that I gave to many.

She didn’t catch my slight deception, and believed that I didn’t know the meaning of Enjie, to my relief. I saw a look of faint disappointment cross her eyes as she turned away to continue walking around the clearing. My memory band gave the impression that it was either smacking its forehead against a mental wall, or had just face palmed. Either way, it informed me that my choice was a bad move. I informed it that I was not ready for anything like that, and would likely never be. It informed me that I was frequently very lonely, and knew I needed that. I told it that it was less me I was worried about and more her, as I moved after her. My memory band sighed and gave up. Much to my relief.

I pulled alongside the strange Skrael woman, and wondered what to do next. I deliberately kept myself from feeling awkward in the silence that stretched between us. I felt like I had committed some sort of transgression, but didn’t know what. Yes I did, my memory band informed me. I sighed mentally, women were bloody complicated. The memory band agreed.

“Do you wish to know who I am?” She looked at me sideways through her eyelashes. I was about a head taller then she was.

“That depends. Should I know you if you will pass on? You are a huntress are you not? I imagine you are one because you have little liking for the company of others.” I answered simply.

I saw the ghost of recognition in her face, so she understood what I meant? Intriguing, “You interest me. And a huntress lives off the lands. You are right, I live alone because I choose to, because I do not wish to live with others. The king recognises this, and I have no necessity to produce for him. There are many like me, and Oldwood is long and wide. There is space for all.”

“If you do not like others, why do you suddenly decide to take mine?”

“You are different. You will not touch me, nor ask anything of me. You expect nothing, and ask nothing. And you are a stranger, you do not come from here. They are all reasons for why I choose to be here.”

“How do you know that is true?”

“I saw your eyes when I called you Enjie. You know what it means.” I had that jolt, and my memory band was smug, but we were both surprised - wait, I’m already calling it and I we? Oh dear - as she smiled brilliantly at us, “Yet you chose to ignore it. You separated yourself from me.”

I narrowed my eyes at her, “You don’t sound like a huntress. And you are too good at guessing people.”

“I once walked amoung the Mahhe. And I am a nobleman’s daughter, or so far as nobleman go amoung our kind. I have spent time in court.”

“I thought so.” I answered.

“You are sharp also.” She looked at me questioningly. A sliver of starlight fell across her cheek, highlighting delicate cheekbones, hardened by a hard life.

“Probably the closest comparison between my life and here would be to say that I have been amoung the Mahhe comparatively since I was but six years old. And have learnt much in the few years I have lived.” I said.

“You have still not asked who I am.” She gave me a sultry look. I wondered if she was testing me again, or flirting, or just doing the usual strange girl thing. I decided not to test. My memory band approved.

“Should I?” I wondered.

She gave me a dark look, “I will be travelling with you. You should know who you travel with.”

“Yes. You really should.” I answered blithely, then hurriedly added when she looked like she wanted to stab me, “Alright, alright. Don’t kill me. Tell me, my lady. To whom do I have the pleasure of making my aquaintance."

She brightened, though I don’t know why, “

[HLY]

yarg, I'll commnet on that behamoth when I have more time, or probbaly wait till you've finished if their coming in chunks that huge.

just one thing to bring up:

“Alright. Convert the infidels it is.” Pascal said drily, his, her? I was going to have to ask him about that, eyes were red rimmed from crying earlier.

a bit of a messy entance maybe try replacing some of the commas with -, to make it easier on the eyes of the reader, as it means the same thing as is less confusing

Pascal said drily, his - her? I was going to have to ask him about that - eyes where red rimmed from crying earlier

my two cents.

[Lord Blackstaff]

Heh, yeah, that's a good idea. And in all likelihood, the posts might get that large. Since I keep ending up skipping days. That was a catch up on three.

No need to comment on the actual grammar and so on. That stuff I'll be going over properly in December. And I'm fully aware of a large number of issues in that area.

Instead, focus on stuff that I can improve on for later, as I continue writing the story. So you know, characters, storyline - as you see it - writing style, annoying things like my constant use of said and stuff like that.

Basically stuff I can think about while writing would be awesome.

EDIT: I am working on the said business. But with so much dialogue, I can never work out what to substitute with.

[Lord Blackstaff]

Aaand the tale continues. Took me more than an hour to work out Eirenje's name, with the help of Tassadar. Enjoy it.
I'm still two days behind though, pity.

J, incidentally, is pronounced as a y. And the double j is pronounced as a soft french g, slightly drawn out.

She brightened, though I don’t know why, “Eirenje Nír Anherjj.” Her voice was sort of breathy as she said it. The syllables were certainly quite melodic, or liquid.

“It’s a beautiful name.” I told her softly.

She looked up at the stars, “It means Wind Child. Wanderer. One without a place.” I couldn’t see her face, because she was in front of me, but her voice sounded a little funny. I couldn’t place the feeling in it though.

“Appropriate. I think.” I said, then wished I could take the words back. The look she gave me over her shoulder was utterly mysterious. It hid much as she held my eyes for a moment.

“We are equally alone. You, the wanderer. And I, the slave of myself.” I said quietly, I found it strange, to say it, but had a sense that I should. There was a certain rightness in it.

“Perhaps.” her reply was non-committal. I hate non-committal replies. Especially when I say something like that.

We were walking beside each other now, I decided to follow up with what I’d said, my memory band cautioned me but didn’t seem to have enough information to guide me, “When was the last time you knew the companionship of a friend?”

She glanced at me, but said nothing, and I, being the fool I am, continued, “Or the arms of a man you loved?”

It was as if I’d slapped her. I don't think I’ve ever seen anyone stop dead like that and just sort of stare wide eyed at... well, me. It was the sort of moment where you’re going oh shit, oh shit, oh shit, oh shit. And generally axing yourself. I decided it was a good time to shut up.

We looked at each other, well, she stared, then closed up and coolly examined me. I returned the gaze frankly and leaned on my staff. She must have had one hell of a past to have that kind of reaction. One that had scarred her deeply. I didn’t like the implications of why she had reacted that way. Sexual abuse is an ugly, ugly thing, and to be truthful, I was really hoping she’d stay with the clamming up bit. Because there are some things you just don’t want to know. Betrayal is equally cruel, and something that can be very painful to the individual. That was something that was equally uncomfortable to sit through, especially seeing as I didn’t know how to deal with it.

Then suddenly her face cleared and she smiled weakly at me, I had been expecting her to walk off so it took a few moments to register that she was sticking round.

“I am sorry. You were trying to help.” She looked sideways at me as she passed me, “You must be quite lost. I am not helping.”

I shrugged, “I have travelled much, I take things as they come. It’s a lot easier. And you don’t worry half as much.”

“Sage words, from one so young. Sure you aren't a couple of centuries old?” She asked over her shoulder.

“I’m twenty years old.” I answered blithely.

She stopped and I passed her with a raised eyebrow, she shook her head and rubbed her ears, “I must have misheard. Did you just say twenty? Your world does not have longer turns then here?”

My memory band informed me that the difference was about a month extra here, and therefore, I was actually younger comparably, “According to my memory band, I would be younger if I’d grown up here.”

Her mouth fell open, she narrowed her eyes and examined me closely, then to my surprise gripped my face and looked me directly in the eyes, “Say that again.”

“I’m twenty years old. Things move faster in my world.” I shrugged.

She released me, a bit to my relief. I was sort of expecting something painful to occur. She was frowning, “You speak truth. Your world is strange.” She said the last bit with a bit of finality. As if coming to a conclusion.

I shrugged, “All worlds are strange to all but those who live in them. I find this world equally strange. Like that.” I pointed to a neat row of... little glowing things. I suppose you could call them pixies or something. They had intense little faces that well, looked a bit gremlin like. And they had been watching us for a while, sometimes skipping from tree to tree to follow us.

Eirenje laughed, “Tree sprites. They are harmless. As long as you don’t harm them, or show too much hostility.” She looked seriously at me, “Though be careful how many trees you cut down around tree sprites. They can be cruel enemies to have.”

“Point taken.” I said, looking at the little creatures with some interest. They sat and stared back at me, with what I imagine was equal interest. I was reminded of something then, “Speaking of which. I don’t suppose there are the malovolent kind of sprite?”

“There are malicious ones, yes. Ones that will play pranks for the enjoyment, and cause trouble for little reason. Trock’s we call them. But they do not live this deep in the forest.” Eirenje replied.

“How deep are we? Exactly?” I asked, suddenly quite apprehensive.

“Walk that way for ten miles, and you will meet with the heart of Oldwood. And the great Rowan tree there. The Ancients built their first city there, and the ruins yet remain.” She pointed off to our left.

“And how big is Oldwood exactly?” I asked.

“End to end, at it’s thinnest, one, two hundred leagues in width. In length, from the lowest to the uppermost point, it is in total a thousand and four hundred leagues.” Eirenje said with a deep hint of respect, or awe in her voice.

I blinked. That was big. Very big. “And how far to the nearest edge?” I asked.

“Four hundred leagues.” Eirenje’s mouth quirked.

My optimistic half informed me that Koethe had an answer to everything, and my realistic half informed the optimistic half that we didn’t have any teleportation spells because they were too costly. I must have looked rather down because Eirenje patted my cheek in a patronising sort of way and told me not to worry.

“I’m not worrying.” I said, which was true, worrying is pointless, and I’ve made it a point in life not to do so. I’ve not worried about anything for years, and don’t plan on doing so anytime soon.

“You are wondering how to escape the forest. That much is clear.”

“I am indeed.”

“Isej! Does your memory band not know?” She cried.

My memory band shrugged its virtual shoulders and informed me it had nothing.

“Nope.”

“Sinje! Was your body taught in a box? Don’t answer, you should not exist in the first place. Mahhe are not let out until they have passed a century of learning in the Keep.” She waved her hand irritably, “Very well. I shall tell you.” She didn’t seem to like the prospect.

“Eirenje, if you don’t want to, we can work a way out of this. We always do.” I said, I suppose it was my inbred courtesy working to sabotage our chances of success. It’s amazing what altruism can do, isn’t it?

“Ich! No such chance. You will do something foolish.” She said firmly.

“Aren't you coming with us?” I asked.

“I will. But first I must finish what I came here to do. I may not be there when you move on.” She pursed her lips, thinking.

“We can wait.” I offered, but Eirenje waved a hand in dismissal.

“I am a huntress. And I know enough about Koethe to track you wherever you go.” She seemed to come to some sort of conclusion, “Very well. I have not attempted it before, but my brother taught me the process,” she tapped her head, and a memory band flashed into existence briefly, “and as you can see, I cannot forget.” A shadow chased its way across her features, but was gone so quickly I couldn’t be sure. One thing I knew, though, she had memories she would very much want to forget. My memory band informed me this was on limitation of theirs. They did not close off memories unless it was absolutely necessary, such as keeping information from a torturer. Traumatising memories had to be dealt with, not run from. Those who had initially made them, understood that if you remember, you should remember all. Not just parts.

I was startled out my reverie when she took my hand. Her’s was hard and calloused. Not surprising really, I knew how fast I got blisters just wielding a pick or axe. Properly wielding a spear would certainly build them.

I raised an eyebrow at her, she smiled faintly, and tapped my forehead. I was suddenly surrounded by the scent of oak, and pine. Of the things of the forest. I coughed mentally as I realised that she’d linked us and closed my mind partially, enough to stop her intruding on memories that would confuse. The closeness faded, but I could have easily have reached out and touched her mind, had I wished.

Can you hear me?

Quite. The mind is my profession, after all.

It has been a long time since I have done this.

You are a Mahhe? I thought you said-

There are exceptions to the rule. I have little capability. They taught me to use it, and sent me on my way. My brother taught me more. I was washed by a deep sense of loss. But there is little I can do with that knowledge. I could feel her drifting, and realised that the memories still hurt a lot. She came back brusquely. Nevertheless. You can. She sent me a cluster of memories that my memory band scanned before showing them to me. I queried it. It scanned my memories for a moment. Think of it as virus software, it said. Memories can be damaging to the individual, I am quite advanced, so I keep you from recieving potentially harmful memories.

The memories covered the use and creation of waygates. I was surprised at how simple they were.

Is that all? I didn’t want to intrude on her privacy, or be made privy to memories of her past.

I will walk you through it. Even in knowing you can easily destroy the gate. Or cause it to have fault.

Very well. I sent, and reached out with my mind, carefully sifting through the soil nearby until I found the right minerals and metals. Drawing them up, I began summoning Koethe, feeling it flow through me, indeed my soul, and wrapped it around the debris that sifted into the air in front of us. I then began the complex process of weaving the bindings into place. My memory band fed me the memories as I needed them and kept the bindings precise. I could feel what I suppose were molecules snapping into place and gossamer threads started appearing in front of us. I warded the area around the threads and caught the energy falloff just as the first atom snapped to another. We both closed our eyes as a brilliant flash lit the forest and I gritted my teeth against the silent concussion that rang against the warding.

It took me some time to form two pale silvery arches, and by the time I had finished I was sweating profusely. I leaned against my staff. The Koethe bindings would last for a couple of days, enough for our purposes.

Oh man. I didn’t realise you guys did cold fusion to make these things. If those wardings weren't in place, this place would have been levelled.

That is why most Mahhe avoid binding work. Usually only Psions have enough mental strength to hold the shields in place. But we are not finished yet. So right yourself.

Brilliant.

The next part is easy. Just back up my weaves.

Wait. How? Linking isn’t part of my memories.

It’s what? Truly you are ignorant! Here, let me do it, you might create a life bond, and I care not to share myself with you in such a way. In such a way? I decided not to wonder what that implied exactly. My memory band informed me that a life bond was a transference of life force to another, it also bound the minds of those involved permanently. There was almost literally no mental privacy at all in a bond like that. Unless both parties knew how to shield their minds properly. And even then the dominant one usually had to refrain from looking. I recoiled mentally, that was not something I wanted either!

Eirenje put her palm against my head and there was a brief flash in my mind, and I found myself floating freely, detached. It was dark. I suppressed the urge to panic and examined my surroundings, such as they were, and spied a shimmering traslucent form somewhere to my right. It beckoned, and I guessed that it was Eirenje, in spirit form? I looked down at myself and blinked. I was nothing like her, where she was muted, and palely translucent, I blazed in fiery golds and reds. As I neared her, I realised I was much taller, actually. I was huge in comparison.

She looked up at me, and her voice echoed in my mind, soul.Take my hand. And I will finish the binding.

I held out my hand, and she slipped hers into it. It almost vanished inside my comparatively huge paw. She held my eyes, and closed hers and drew. That’s about all I can describe it as. She sort of drew my power out of me. And touches of colour began to tinge her soul. I myself could not feel much, I guessed she couldn’t draw much, in relative sort of terms.

The world flashed and I was back in my body. Eirenje’s mind had a fiery link between us and I sensed relief. Good, it is only a Koethe link. She sent. Now watch carefully. You may have to do this alone one day.

She raised her hands and with a look of deep concentration began weaving them and muttering under her breath. My memory band picked up the words through our mental link and stored them, they were incomprehensible to me. I queried why she needed spellwords and I didn’t, my memory band informed me that my memory training made the necessary excercises to bind Koethe instinctive, she was largely unskilled in the more complex details and thus needed something to focus her mind on the task at hand. Weaving words did the job nicely, so beginning and even experienced Mahhe used them for Koethe weaves that they were less familiar with.

I suddenly felt a huge drain on my power and I sent out alarms across the link. She ignored me and snapped her hands together with a sharp clap. A flickering violet field appeared in between the archways. Sweat was beading on Eirenje’s face as she leaned against me tiredly. I supported her and waited for her to recover. Thankfully the drain had not happened for long.

After a few minutes she broke the links between us and stepped back, proudly surveying her handiwork. “It will do well.” She said with approval, “It is linked to the waygate outside the forest, close to Nereval.” She then looked at the sky, “I must be off, if I am to finish my task.” she caught my eyes and smiled, “I will see you soon Hélegund.” and then she left.

I blinked. That’s literally what happened. One second she was there, in front of me, and the next, I only knew she existed because I could sense her rapidly heading away from me. Then she was out of my scan range. I stood there for a few moments, wondering at her appearance. Then shrugged mentally. What comes, comes. I looked up at the sky, and my memory band informed me that I should wake Tessa for the last shift and get some sleep. Not that I felt that tired. Meditation then, the memory band corrected. I decided to christen it Dicto. I got the mental equivalent of a blink, I’d caught it off guard with my sudden switch in subject. Then it gave me a tentative approval, Dicto, after all, came from the word, dictionary, which implied a trustworthy source of knowledge, particularly with words.

I walked around the archway and entered the clearing. The fire had long since burned down to a few smouldering embers. I poked it with a stick and stirred them a bit, before putting another log on, it was getting a mite chillly out. I bent over and shook Tessa’s shoulder gently.

Her eyes snapped open, surveyed the area, then fell on me. It took a few more moments for her to realise it was her turn for watch. She nodded and sat up, rubbing her eyes. I sat on my haunches and waited, just to make sure she was ok.

She stood in a single fluid move and beckonned me silently to follow. I wondered what she wanted, but followed quietly, so as not to disturb the others. Though I suspected that if things were under normal circumstances, they would mostly be awake by now.

I followed Tessa as she walked down to the stream and sat on a rock, pulling her knees up she patted the ground beside her and wrapped her arms around them.

Not sure what else to do, and fairly sure that her violent nature would get me some serious retribution if I tried anything else, I sat down, putting a bit of space between us, just in case. She saw it and smirked at me.

“I don’t bite unless you ask for it.”

“I don’t want to find out what ‘asking for it’ means.”

She snorted, then her face went serious, “You know alot about fantasy don’t you?”

“I uhhh. Well. Jorsi would be-” I tried to do a comparative generalisation.

“Jorsi is a god now, and he makes me uncomfortable. I’m not religious at all. Phil is an animated skeleton with flames for eyeballs and I want to stab Pascal half the time. Sarah is a drama student and mainly pays attention to the role playing.” Tessa ticked off all the people who might be able to help her.

Well, so much for putting the questions onto someone else, “Yes. I do know a bit about fantasy.” I said, hedging my bets, just in case.

“What’s your verdict on... this.” Tessa waved an arm to indicate our surroundings.

“I haven’t been granted with much more info then you have, but as far as I know; those dice Pascal rolled didn’t come from our world; and they were interdimensional travel devices.” I said. Keeping things as simple as I could.

Tessa tapped a finger in the air, “That’s what I don’t get. The interdimensional crap. I’m not a scientist.”

“You ask a lot of questions.” I noted.

She smirked at me, “I don’t like not knowing stuff.”

I shrugged, “Fair enough. Are you familiar with two D and three D?”

“You mean like drawing stuff?” Tessa asked.

“Yes.” I drew a silver line in the air, Tessa blinked at it.

“Hey that’s cool.”

I nodded, “It certainly is. Now. Back to topic. There are many dimensions, but I think the best way to explain them is to use the ones most commonly used. One D, two D, three D and four D.” I tapped the line, “One dimension is just like this line. It’s just a flat line.”

“Ok. I get that. You don’t know why that is do you?” Tessa asked.

“Not really. I don’t really care either.” I said, and drew another silver line perpendicular to the first, “Two dimensions is like this. You can go up and down, and side ways. But it’s still essentially flat.”

“Ok, I’m following you.”

“Good.” I drew a third line, this time out on a right angle to both lines. So that the silver lines formed the corner of an invisible cube, “This is the third dimension. You can go in any physical direction in the third dimension.”

“Ok. So what’s the fourth dimension then? You can’t go anywhere else after three D right?” Tessa was frowning.

“The fourth dimension is time.” I said, “After that, I have no idea what the dimensions are, but anybody who gets into that stuff would tell you they’re infinite.”

Tessa’s expression said she got it, “Ok. I think I get what those things meant when they said they were travelling inter dimension. This is kinda like that alternate universe stuff.”

“Right. As far as I know, the two are connected, theoretically.” I said.

Tessa looked at me, it was that shiveringly direct look she had given me before, “This place is as real as Earth, isn’t it? All this,” she indicated herself, and the forest, “Is as real as anywhere else. This isn’t a game. Is it?” she asked.

I nodded slowly, “It’s very real.” I said quietly.

“Fucknuts! I was hoping you wouldn’t say that.” Tessa exclaimed, then leaned her chin on her knees morosely, “Tell me the rest. Though I think I know what it is.”

[Lord Blackstaff]

5005 words. Started late. My fingers are kinda over it. I'll have to do this 10,000 words a day thing in bits and pieces, I don't have enough finger stamina to do it at once it seems.

On a side note. I made 2000 words in an hour. Which is awesome!

Another epic update. Oh, and the introduction of what will definitely be the comedy side of things. This entire story, I would remind you, is more or less a story told with a completely straight face. You, as the reader, are the ones who decide exactly what's a joke, and what isn't.

Enjoy! Oh yeah, this story may very well end up getting deleted in the future. As I may wish to get rid of it for publication purposes. So if you want to make your comments you had best do so while this month is still in, because it might not be there afterwards.


“We’ve been transferred into what appears to be the real alternative of Jorsi’s world. Where all his creations were imagination on Earth, here they are very much a reality I believe. When the dice scanned the room, they locked us on as the travellers and the stuff Jorsi had as the intended destination. Our character sheets were what we were transferred to. From what I’ve seen so far, our brain and stuff is the same. But everything else... well. That’s what you specified on the character sheet.”

“So all those feats and skills and crap, I can really do all that.” Tessa wasn’t really asking a question.

“Ask your memory band.” I told her.

She paused for a moment, blinked a few times then favoured me with a piercing gaze, “You’re a fantasy nut. What the fuck are we supposed to do? They were right back there. We can’t just waltz in and convert the population to GM.”

“Survive.” I said, hearing the chilling reality of it in my voice, “We survive. Our memory bands can help us not screw up, but we have to be really careful around other people. Especially if we start doing stuff and the nobility notice us.”

“You think there are really kings and lords and pansy buggers like that?”

“Oh, I don’t think, I’m certain. And they won’t be pansies, about half of them will be half warlords and generals trying to grab more land and the other half will be skilled courtiers vying for more power amoung their fellows. We won’t necessarily be able to tell the difference between the two, and you can be assured that double crossing or offending them will have bandits mugging us every two steps into a forest, or some sort of ‘convenient accident’ happening.” I said. Tessa squinted at me, but I was absolutely sure this would be the case, and she worked it out fairly quickly.

She sighed, “Well. That makes things a whole lot worse.” Then she looked at me sideways with a feral sort of grin, “And better. You can take a noble’s land right? Or become one. Right?”

I snorted, “Yes. But that means we have to be on the good side of the king. And it also means that we take out a weak noble. Not a strong one. Strong ones have allies who’d screw us over quicker then you can say ‘we’re screwed.’” I warned.

Tessa shrugged, “Weak or not, land and an army is all we need.” She looked me, “You lot are gamers, after all. Isn’t that what you do all the time one computer games?”

I could hear the distaste in her voice, “Reality is a good deal more different then a computer game.” I said slowly and pointedly, “We may be able to handle the rudimentaries, and work out some good strategies and ideas, but if we don’t know enough about the culture and local nobility, we can get ourselves into some very deep trouble.” I said cautiously. One did not aspire to conquering the world until one knew what they were conquering.

Tessa dipped her head, “Fair point.” she said, then she smacked the rock in frustration, “But what do we do?”

“We walk the roads, we listen to the people. And we help everybody who needs helping.” I said grimly, “There isn’t much we can do now.”

Tessa sat back and hooked an arm around a knee, her face held conflicting emotions, for a moment she looked lost, “But.” The she threw up her hands, “How do you stand it?!” She cried, her voice was starting to choke a little bit, “Being like this!” She waved at us, “Completely lost. In a bloody land that could fuck you over sooner then you can swear?!” I was shocked to see genuine anguish before she turned her face away from me.

I didn’t really know what to say, so I just said what popped into my head, “I... Take it as it comes. We don’t know what’s out there. We don’t know where we are, or what’ll happen next. We have no way of getting back. But I’m alive, I’m still myself, in a different body, and I have friends.” I touched her shoulder gently, she wiped her eyes and shot me a look that probably would have nailed me to the tree a couple of metres away if there’d been daggers in it. “You have friends, Tessa. Pascal might piss you off, and you might not feel comfortable around half of us. But we’re there for you. I don’t say this in a mushy way either. I mean it literally, if you need a person to hold you’re back, you have us, and if you need a shoulder to cry on - not that I think you do,” I added hurriedly, “You have one. We might be wierd, and strange sometimes, but if you’re Sarah’s friend, you’re our friend. And God help anybody who dares touch you because by the time we’re finished with them, he’ll be the only one who can.” I said fervently. I really believed that. Tessa smiled faintly.

I smiled my toothy sort of grin, “When you know you’ve got mates to back you up, does it really matter how lost you are, or what’s been screwing up?” I asked.

Tessa nodded and looked off into the darkness. We sat there for a long while, and I was considering getting some sleep when she suddenly stood, “I wonder what I look like.” she said suddenly.

I blinked, caught off guard, then shrugged mentally as I always did and raised a perfectly smooth plane of water in front of her and lit a few werelights for her. “There you go. I full length mirror.” I said mildly.

She took a time to examine herself, twisting and turning, scrutinising herself closely, “Damn! I look like an ice queen who got mixed up with Beowulf.”

I raised an eyebrow, “You know Beowulf?”

“Yeah, course. Sarah’s a big fan of that sort of stuff. She’s got some pretty cool illustrated books. I read them when I’m bored and waiting for her to do stuff.” Tessa said absent mindedly.

People will never cease to surprise me. “I wonder what I look like naked.” Tessa said suddenly.

I was caught completely off guard that time. My mind drew a blank, “You’re kidding right?” I managed to get out.

“No really. I wonder what I look like naked.” Tessa said.

What the hell is a guy supposed to do in a situation like this? I went for broke, and switched off everything. The water fell back with a splash. “What’d you do that for?” Tessa asked, slightly irritated.

I coughed, “Uhhh. I’m not Sarah. In case you didn’t notice.”

Tessa shrugged, “Yeah. And?” She squinted down at herself, “How the hell do you get this stuff off anyway?” She seemed to have put on the rest of her armour at some point, and was decked out in what I guessed was a version of full plate in this land.

I started to consider getting out of there. Tessa glanced at me, “Oh come on. You aren’t a prude are you?” She asked, this time irritation was clearly showing. I wasn’t entirely sure why, but I guessed she didn’t care too much who saw her, “This isn’t even my actual body. You aren’t gonna do anything, you’re too nice to. Now help me work out this crap.” She ordered. Too nice. Bugger, that was why girls weren’t interested in me all that much. I felt like I was violating something, but I guessed that Tessa would probably stab me or something if I left at that point.

I sighed, “Very well.” I said shortly and stood up. I lit a werelight, “Stand back a bit. How did you get this on in the first place?” I asked.

“Well. It all came in a little bundle that I picked up and it sort of... Expanded.” Tessa looked at herself in a puzzled sort of way.

“Hmph. Koethe weaves then. Complicated.” The armour had plenty of different pieces but they all looked quite solid, and fit her perfectly, though armour is kinda gender neutral. Unlike about half the online, and offline games, and movies for that matter, out before we’d been transferred armour was shaped in such a way as to deflect strikes, not accentuate bodily form. This was no different. I scratched my chin, and felt the bristles there. Growing a beard, cool! The armour would most likely be thought controlled, but I had no idea how to go about working that out. Could check the weaves. Dicto put in as it sent the memory information.

“Alright, I’m going to need to scan the armour for the enchantments.” I said, waving Tessa forward.

“Don’t ‘scan’ anything else...” Her tone left plenty of room for imagination as to exactly what would happen if I scanned elsewhere as she stepped forward. I put my hand on a grey pauldron and concentrated. Dicto mentally slapped me. Don’t concentrate. Just switch to the Sight. I blinked, closed my eyes and summoned Koethe, but just held it without doing anything.

Tessa’s eyes widened as I opened my eyes. Dicto informed me that my eyeballs would look like they were on fire.

“Don’t worry.” My voice echoed and distorted in a funky sort of way. You really have no clue... Dicto calmly informed me as it showed me the necessary processes to hide the reality shifting effect Koethe did when in flux. I sort of Compressed the Koethe and I suppose you could say I tied it off. Though that sounded a lot like the Wheel of Time, and really, I had no clue why they called Koethe spells weaving. Since it was more like telling a reluctant three year old to do something. “This is the effect of me switching to this funky thing called the Sight. It basically lets me see magical stuff, I’m not really on fire.

“Waddya see?” Tessa asked, now intrigued after her initial shock.

“Uhhh. I have no idea how to describe this, except that... Wow! This is trippy!” And indeed it was, everything had sort of hue shifted. I could see these massive binding lines arching between various parts of the earth and well, other parts. I had no real clue where they went. Thousands of currents and binding lines shimmered and wafted around us. This world was literally inundated in Koethe.

It was... Kinda pretty. There was a lot of sparkly stuff everywhere, and I could see the shapes of sprites and other spirits flitting through the trees. I looked in the direction of the clearing. I could see the blazing form that was Phil, except his fiery colours were more in the evil reds and violets range of the spectrum. Probably a result of his profession and use of Koethe. The others were largely dull, with that simple silvery soul colour. Tessa, was the same. Her armour, on the other hand... glowed. Complex threads of Koethe were wrapped around it and a shifting layer of it covered the grey surface. I frowned, how was I supposed to work this out?

Dolt. Dicto gave my brain a smack. They are... Spells. And simple ones at that. Pay attention.

“Got any idea yet?” Tessa asked, she didn’t sound impatient.

“I dunno. This is kinda confusing. Here, I’ll scan and see what comes up. This’ll feel a touch wierd.” I said, and concentrated. Extending my consciousness a bit. Then transferred into the armour. My mind passed over it and Dicto catalogued the information. It only took a few seconds, but the amount of information that I recieved was overwhelming, almost. Tessa stiffened and then relaxed as I finished.

“You’d better not have...” She warned.

I stepped back, tripped over my Mahhe’s robe, overbalanced, pinwheeled for a second, and fell. I caught myself immediately, and with as much dignity as I could muster, brushed myself off and leaned against a tree.

Tessa laughed loudly, “If I didn’t know you better, I’d say you’re guilty.”

I took some moments to let Dicto continue its analysis, and waited for my mind to stop whirling. Initial analysis tells me that the armour contains several shielding enchantments, as well as a speed and strength enhancement. That, and the weave you’re after. It’s a thought link, which hasn’t been established yet. You’ll need to bind her to it. Dicto informed me.

I straightened, “Alright, I know what’s wrong. The armour just hasn’t been set for you yet. It’s thought controlled. I’ll bind you to it, and you should be able to do the rest.” I said, somewhat hopefully.

“Ha! You ain’t off the hook so easily kiddo. This stuff’s made to stop me getting killed, and it’s fucking complicated.” Tessa said as she leapt down and stood in front of me. “Now do this binding shit.”

I sighed, and searched out for one of the streamers from the thought control, mentally gripping it, I tugged it up and tied it off in her mind. Normally things were more complicated then that, but this enchantment had been prepared for that sort of thing specially. Thank goodness. I wasn’t sure if I could take a mind bond with Tessa while I linked her to her armour. It’d be like downing myself in icy cold spikes.

“There.” I said shortly, “Done.”

Tessa looked at me quizzically, “And now what?”

I shrugged, “Try thinking about it coming off or something.”

Tessa frowned for a few moments, then with a soft series of clickings and rasps the armour just suddenly started splitting up and folding in on itself. It just sort of broke up and then fell into a block at her feet. Pretty freakin’ cool! Tessa looked at it, then grinned at me. It was somewhat predatory, “Now lets get naked!” she said.

I wondered if running would be a better idea. And froze as I detected Sarah walking down towards us. Uh oh...

“Who’s getting naked?” She asked, her lightly bronzed features looking innocent. She was quite striking, but Dicto informed me that Ageless standards of beauty started at beautiful compared to normal humans. I suppose defaulting at supermodel was a pretty good way to start as a woman.

I think I must have looked slightly wild, because she burst out laughing and slipped an arm around Tessa’s waist. “Tessa likes to freak people out, I’m guessing she’s worked out you’re very particular about clothing. I can handle it from here, you get some sleep, you look terrible.” I gave her a relieved smile and tied off a mirror spell with a few werelights about it. “It’ll last an hour.” I said. And left.

Or tried to, I’d gotten a few metres before Tessa called out, I didn’t turn, “Oh, and Dave.”

“Yes? I called over my shoulder.

“Thanks.” Tessa said.

“Anytime you have a question. I’m available.” I called over my shoulder, then remembered, “Oh. And if a Skrael huntress happens to drop by, don’t kill her. She plans on joining us, and I think a native would help us a lot.” I said as I left. I wondered briefly exactly how available I would be for some of her questions. She seemed to have absolutely no inhibitions when it came to asking them, and along with other things...

I heard a brief cackle and Tessa shooting off a remark about me being the second last person she’d be expecting to be collecting ladies.

****

I blinked awake. Someone was shaking me quite hard. It was morning, that was definite.

“About bloody time. You’ve been sleeping like a rock. I had to check for heart beat to make sure that wasn’t literal.” Pascal’s womanly voice sounded to my right.

I shook my head and blinked a few more times, then rubbed the sleep out of my eyes. My mind was feeling slightly numb. I’d been out of my body for the whole time I was asleep, chatting to Jorsi. We’d discussed an aweful lot about one heck of a lot of things, and then memories were being transferred directly to Dicto, as my brain probably would have fried otherwise.

Phil’s gravelly voice sounded somewhere across the clearing, “I told you Pas, he was spirit walking, his soul wasn’t even inhabiting his body at the time. To some, that’s technically dead.”

“Hmph. Still doesn’t excuse him from sleeping in.” Pascal said, his sultry voice was quite warm. Which told me he’d been quite worried.

“Hnnn.” I moaned, then slapped my cheeks a few times. I never woke up easily, and right now my brain was kinda foggy, “I’m alright. Don’t think I’ll spirit walk again though. I feel horrible”

“With how much you were using your power, as a fledgeling, that does little to surprise me.” Eirenje placed a spit with a freshly skinned and gutted animal of some kind on it over the fire, and onto a pair of forked sticks stuck in the ground.

I looked over at Pascal, he grinned at me and flipped out a knife, “Telekinetics comes in handy.” I rolled my eyes and looked at Eirenje. She shrugged, “She could not gut it, or skin it, or anything of the like. It matters not if you cannot do those things.” She said non-commitally.

Pascal scowled, “I’m a ‘he’ thank you very much. I just happen to be stuck in a girl’s body.” He poked himself moodily.

Eirenje looked over at him with a raised eyebrow, then looked at Tessa questioningly. I guessed that they got along well, considering how both were as like to stab you as cuddle you. Tessa nodded, “He’s a guy in our world. Idiot chose the character himself though.”

“I created my character with the explicit intent to bend every loophole in Jorsi’s damned rulebook.” Pascal said primly, “And I like to think I succeeded.”

Eirenje seemed to ignore what would definitely have made no sense to her, instead, she looked at Pascal and said, “You wish for us to call you a he? By my eyes you are most definitely a woman.”

“I’m a guy ok. I just happen to have some superficial changes.” Pascal said.

“Whether they are superficial or not, calling you a ‘he’ in any populated area will lead to your swift demise, or simply exile.” Eirenje said pointedly, “We may know you are a man, by your mind, but you are now within a woman’s body, and you had best concede some necessities. If we make a slip of the togue, it could go very badly for you.”

Pascal looked desperately at Phil, who simply tapped his skeletal cheek speculatively, “She’s got a point there ol’ buddy. We fuck up once, and you might get fucked over. Doesn’t mean you gotta dress in pigtails and skirts though.” he grated.

Pascal looked at me, “I was wondering whether you should refer to a man stuck in a woman's body as a he or a she. To be honest. I really can’t work it out. You’re still you. Just... Changed. I’ll go with whatever you decide.” I said. Pascal looked slightly relieved, but then Anya cut in. And everybody listens to Anya.

“Pascal, dear. We all know you are a man at heart and at mind. But your body is a woman’s and people can see that. Regardless of whether or not your inside is most definitely male, the external is what people see, and you will have to accomodate that. Especially in a society such as this, where the punishments can often be exceedingly brutal. Will you, for your own sake, and ours, allow us to refer to you in the feminine.” She said calmly.

Pascal thought for a long moment, he clearly didn’t like the idea, but he wasn’t stupid, and I could see in his eyes already ideas on ways to which it could advantage him, “Alright.” he conceded, “Call me a girl, woman, her, she, whatever. You guys all know I’m a guy really, so it really doesn’t matter, since I definitely don't look like one. And I don’t like the idea of getting thrown into a dungeon or something nastier.”

“Well chosen.” Eirenje said, “Now, tell me strangers. What are your plans?”

There was a momentary silence as everybody looked at each other questioningly and generally got shakes of their head or shrugs. Nobody had any real idea what to do.

“We have none.” Phil said, “Unless converting your peoples to the worship of GM can be counted as a plan. But I’d just say it’s more of a main quest without any specifics.”

“Converting my peoples? I think you are mistaken. You must mean the lands of men. Skrael worship no gods but their own and Envore.” Eirenje raised a skeptical eyebrow.

Phil shrugged, “Your peoples, other peoples, it matters not. We simply want to escape, and we need people following GM in some form or other to do that.”

“To return the way you came.” Eirenje said, “I see. Well, you had best decide what to do after you present yourselves before the king in Nereval. I have no doubt the Mahhe have noticed your entry, and news travels fast.”

“Wait. You mean people already know we’re here?!” Pascal cried.

“Undoubtedly. Your entry caused waves in the Koethe, such a powerful gate will have raised the attention of any Koethe user alive on the world. I am surprised Rowan or Kyth have not already appeared.”

“Oh shit... So we’ve pretty much come here with a gigantic sign saying ‘Noobs! Kills please!’” Pascal groaned.

Eirenje raised her eyebrow at his language, but ignored it, “They will want to speak with you, not kill you. Though they will certainly never let you leave again, for they do enjoy speaking. Very much so.”

“They’ll let us go. You can bet on that.” I said firmly, “But we don’t plan on getting caught in the first place.”

“Mahhe are civil until they decide they wish to press something.”

“We’re civil until someone attacks us.” Pascal said, “Then we fuck them over. I don’t suppose Rowan could give us a free passage mark or something, or a ‘don’t touch these dudes’ thingo.”

Eirenje smirked, “I simply mentioned Rowan on the off chance that he might still live. He has not been seen in five centuries.”

“Ahh Damn.” Pascal muttered, “So the king has a court Mahhe, no doubt.”

“Indeed. But he is an honourable man, and would do little to impede us.”

“You know him?”

“I know many of the Mahhe, at least in a small way. There are none that I would consider friends.”

“Fair enough. Breakfast ready yet?”



Oh Villainy!


“Oh what villainy is this! Who installed Windrows on my bloody system?! I told you to use Linux! Minion!” Roared a bony figure sitting upon a great black throne. The figure looked very much like Phil.

“Yes my lord Anthrax. What is your will?” A short creature scurried forward and bobbed a bow. It’s black eyes, rotund appearance and hard leathery skin would likely have appeared in a book on trolls somewhere, especially with that nose that arched forward in an unnaturally elongated way.

“Bring the systems administrator in! Now!” Anthraxes voice echoed off the vast walls of his throne room. Curved and carved, the great space claimed a grandeur unmatched by all but the largest cathedrals on earth. Towering pillars marched down a hallway that shone with light and air. The sheer sense of space with the architectural size was dizzying to those who were not already accostomed to it.

“I’m surrounded by incompetents.” Muttered Anthrax as he tapped on a holovid screen, “Even if Koethe lets me do a shitload more with systems then the natural laws of physics on earth ever did.”

The grand hallway echoed with the thud of boots on tiles as a short man in a dark cloak approached, “You sent for me, my lord.”

Anthrax spun his screen around and his flames glared down at the man, “Which incompetent fool installed Windrows on this system?”

The man paled slightly, “That would be the new recruit sir. I sent him up here to install the operating system on your terminal, I assumed he knew it was supposed to be running off our modifications of Linux.”

Anthrax slammed a skeletal hand on the arm of his throne, “Well he didn’t! Bring him here. Immediately!”

A few minutes later a thin young man was dragged in gibbering and blubbering, “Please oh mighty one! Forgive me! I didn’t-”

“SILENCE!”

There was a sudden silence in the chamber. Anthrax coughed lightly, “That’s better. I do hate listening to whingeing bastards like you.”

The silence continued, all the guards lining the chamber stood stiffly to attention. Quite unfazed, they had all appeared along with Anthrax recently. Nobody had cared to speculate how it had happened.

“Do you have any idea how many security threats Windrows is susceptible to?!”

The man cringed, “None?” He ventured furtively.

“WRONG!!” The chamber rang with the sound of Anthraxes voice. “IT IS SUSCEPTIBLE TO ANYBODY WHO SO MUCH AS LOGS ON!!!” It took quite some time for the ringing in everyone’s ears to subside and the echoes to die down.

The man just lay prostrate and shivered.

“Ugh. Cowards. I hate them.” Anthrax sat back down from where he had stood up and flicked his fingers boredly, “Take him out back and vaporise him.”

“Nooooo! Please my lord. Pl-” The man’s desperate cries were cut off as a guard calmly walked up to him and clubbed him.

“Minion!” Anthrax called.

The little troll like figure scurried forward, “Yes my lord?”

Anthrax ripped up a black device attached to his throne arm and tossed it to the minion, “Take it to the Systems Admin and tell him to set it up properly.”

The minion bobbed, “Yes my lord.” And scurried away.

There was a long silence.

The the steady sound of Anthrax’s digits clicking against stone as he leaned against his palm in boredom. Flames flickering dully in his sockets.

They had appeared here, suddenly. Him, and Archlich, and in full command of his powers, and this huge monstrosity of a castle stacked with everything an evil overlord could possibly wish for. It even had a piranha pit just in front of his throne. Or, in this case, a pit full of nothing. Because he couldn't be bothered to fill it with something, and hadn’t really found anything suitably frightening enough.

There was a brief cough to his right. The ticking of his digits stopped and he looked over. “Yes?” He said.

It was the head of the scouting teams. An individual who was quite hard to see, even in the full light, due to the fact that his camouflage suit couldn’t completely switch off. His jaggedly large nose was noticeably anywhere though.

“All teams have returned from the scouting mission, sir.” The Scout Leader saluted, his voice was crisp and clear.

“And?”

“Nothing to report, sir. The area is heavily forested, and extends so for a hundred metric kilometres. There are no nearby tribes, or other possibly interfering agents. We are essentially alone here.”

“Excellent! Tell your men to have a week off while I work out what to do with your skills. I don't suppose you could double as spies or assassins, by any chance?”

“With training and knowledge, my men can become anything!” The Scout Leader said proudly.

“Good. Good. I didn’t want to have to force you.” Anthrax said mildly, and waved his hand in dismissal. The Scout Leader vanished in thin air.”

Anthrax sighed, “Oh well. Time to get to work and do a bit of Koethe weaving. Minion!”

The troll like figure scurried forward. Anthrax had long since stopped even bothering to work out how the creature managed to always be there when called. He suspected that the creature had an innate ability to teleport, or was just a very very old Mahhe.

Either way, it didn’t matter. The creature was completely loyal, and Anthrax wasn’t about to question the loyalty of a loyal subject. It was largely a waste of time.

“Follow me. I may need your assistance.”

“Yes, my lord.” It said, it’s voice slightly quavery.

“Guards. Take the day off. I won’t be needing your services for the rest of today.” The guards lining the walls of the enormous chamber and down the central corridor, between the pillars, saluted and exited the room.

It always paid to treat your underlings well. That way their loyalty didn’t suddenly switch when offered services elsewhere. After all, why should they if their employer already gave them more than enough incentive.

Anthrax turned and tapped the wall suddenly, just under one of the great arch windows that let in the day’s clear morning light. A superbly hidden wall slide open and presented him with the twin arches of a waygate resting on a rounded pedestal. Stepping inside the alcove, Anthrax tapped in a combination of keys on the nearby wall beside the waygate and it shimmered into life.

Stepping inside the waygate, Anthrax found himself exiting into a large circular room. he knew from the architectural diagrams he’d checked and the structural engineers appraisal of the building that this was the highest tower. And had been explicitly intended to improve one’s Koethe channeling.

“Stand in the corner, and don’t touch anything. Unless you want to get roasted like an Englishman in the Sahara.” Anthrax pointed to the side and the minion scuttled there and sat. Observing everything with its black eyes.

Anthrax stepped into the centre of the room and raised his skeletal arms. The roof, and walls of the tower room rippled, then vanished. Affording the occupants of the room a view that stretched on for hundreds of miles, a view that was dominated by vast swathes of green undulating forest, and snow peaked mountains in the distance.

[Lord Blackstaff]

Woo! Just wrote about 13,500 words or so, in chunks over the last 24 hours. And I'm feeling pretty good about how things are turning out. Especially with exactly how much of the background lore has filtered through, in dumps and pieces.

And the characters. I think they're turning out well.

But of course, you don't want to read such a large update, so I'll piece it in little chunks for you .

Oh, and I'm at 46,099 words according to the word count .


“It really is a lovely view from up here. Don’t you think minion?” Anthrax grated. His tone indicated that there really wasn’t much room for disagreement. None actually.

The minion creature bobbed its head and agreed heartily. Whether it was sincere wasn’t readily apparent.

Anthraxes eye flames exploded outwards, filling his sockets with a deep bloody red fire as he started channeling Koethe. He tapped his chin thoughtfully as he gazed over the vista before him. He took some time to make a full three hundred and sixty degree sweep before turning back to an area that had taken his notice.

“Interesting...” He murmered. “Very interesting... Tell me, minion. How long have we been here?”

“We came into existence some two years, one hundred days and sixteen hours ago, my lord.” The minion’s voice was like a more natural version of Anthraxes, less grate, and more gurgling.

“Indeed?” Anthrax continued to tap and consider, “I’m mildly surprised the Mahhe haven't taken the time to investigate us?” Then his eye flames brightened and he held up a finger, “Oh wait! That’s right. They did! They’re still in the dungeon.” Anthrax chuckled evilly, “The compulsion to do great evil was simply overwhelming at the time. Heh. I think they’ve decided to let sleeping dogs lie till they’re leader gets off his lazy arse and calls in the big guns.” The minion stayed silent. Anthrax often spoke to himself, or whoever was nearby, without expecting reply.

The bony figure snapped back to it’s contemplations earlier, looking long and hard at an otherwise innocuous area of forest. The minion simply sat and watched it’s master. It had long since given up trying to work its master out.

Finally, Anthraxes grating voice sounded, he always spoke in the end, largely because he could think better when he voiced his thoughts, “So they’ve finally arrived. Those Koethe threads are the same ones that surrounded this castle the first time I awoke. And I can see the leavings of a powerful waygate.” Anthrax continued to tap his chin thoughtfully, “It seems that whatever brought those travellers here works time as well as space. A pity I cannot see the object itself. Perhaps it has returned to where it came from, or was destroyed.” Anthrax shrugged, then giggled slightly. The minion winced, an Archlich giggling isn’t a pleasant thing to hear.

“Whatever has happened to the object. I now have seven enemies. And one more, if my sighting be correct.” Anthrax cackled, it was a horrific stacatto grating sound. When his laughter had subsided, one could have almost seen a real grin on the permanent one, “Compulsion is so interesting sometimes.”

Anthrax clapped, “Enough shirking! It seems we have work to do. And a great deal of evil to deal out upon this hapless world. Powers move, and I’d best not be caught with my foot up someones arse!”

Gesturing to his minion, he swept back into the Waygate, which terminated in the throne room. His skeletal footsteps echoed in that vast chamber; pillars dwarfing his tall, thin figure; lit by the light of the morning sun. “Collect the Generals and my fellow Sorcerors Minion. Plans are needing to be made!” Anthrax gestured grandly as he strode towards the centre of the hall. There was a shimmering in the air, and a low hum sounded all about him. Anthrax stopped at the edge of a huge circle set into the centre of the hallway. It was divided into a pentagon, Anthrax had smirked every time he’d seen it. So cliché. A single white flower sat in the centre of what seemed to be a multitude of golden threads and designs, spiralling and arching outwards to the very edge of the great circle.

The designs began to glow, and then started to raise themselves, the hum became a soft undertone that carpeted everything in a dulling sound. A jagged contraption of spikes and blades dropped from the ceiling, lowered by a pole of an equally black material. There was a blue glow shining in it’s depths that grew as it approached the slowly raising floor. Then both jerked to a sudden stop, the spiked object snapped open like a giant bladed flower with a loud cracking sound, and the blue glow flashed outwards, creating a detailed holograph the shimmered as it hit the raised floor. Colours corusced and flashed across the circular area before what appeared to be a globe appeared in sharp clarity, hovering above the now flat floor.

Anthrax, watching the colourful display with some boredom, glanced up as the sounds of hurrying footsteps signalled the arrival of several of his generals. Stocky, hard faced men, they saluted brusquely to him and stood in a straight backed line. They were disciplined, and highly proffessional. And not afraid to do questionable things when the necessity arose. Anthrax gave them a tip of his skull, he paid them well for what they did. And this would be their first opportunity to really prepare a campaign, now that all the pieces were in place. Now that the travellers he had been waiting for for so long had finally arrived. They would be the kingpins in the entire campaign. The central pieces whose actions would catalyse so many more. And he knew he wasn’t the only one who wanted them under his hand.

A low swishing sound told him that the Sorcerors had arrived. They entired, black robed and cold, in a dignified fashion. As befitted men of knowledge and rigid discipline. Mastering death itself was no mean feat, and the maddened exhortations that had so often plagued popular media on Earth would only lead to death here. They took places beside the generals, both sides only giving the barest of acknowledgements to each other. The Sorcerors bowed to Anthrax and he nodded to them.

They all waited in silence as the last few stragglers arrived from the furthest parts of the castle, hurrying quickly as they realised their tardiness. Anthrax made no comment. He knew just how extensive his building was and a few minutes wait as they found the Waygates was no metaphorical skin of his non-existant nose. He waited a little more as the newcomers saluted and bowed to him before taking their places amoung his chief campaigners. There was ten in all. Five head Sorcerors, and five generals.

Anthrax raised his bony hand and the world zoomed, the platued becoming a perfect replica of his castle and it's surrounding area. The castle itself loomed above everything, black and malovolent. Jagged spines scraped at the sky from great towers and looming walls. A single huge tower speared the sky, his observation point. The entire building reeked of death, destruction, and a healthy sprinkling of malice. Nobody could get in, or out, without being seen by the guards lining it’s battlements, or the Watchers lining the walls. Statues; in the shape of creatures he had no idea could possibly exist; imbued with Koethe weaves that could sight anything living within a mile of their vision, distinguish friend from foe, Keothe weaves and give alarm if necessary. He was quite confident he was safe within these walls from anything short of a huge army of flying dragons, or something similarly preposterous. Like a Pheonix. Or something like that. He hadn’t yet been able to procure defenses against that eventuality, but hoped that his agents in the Jewel Island would be able to help in out of the quandry, soon, preferably.

“The travellers have arrived.” Anthrax began, his finger twitched and the map zoomed in on a clearing some hundred leagues from the castle, it was empty, of course, he had yet to include details like troops in the Koethe programming. It made some things easy, but others were a nightmare to work out. “They arrived sometime last night, through a gateway that has to be unprecedented in its power. The residue Koethe threads confirmed my original suspicions. That we were created by whatever power or artefact chose to create the gateway.” Anthrax held up a skeletal index finger, “Be well warned. There are only six travellers who came through the gateway, and one native who has joined them, but together they are a Balance for us. Alone, they stand little chance, though they are both skilled and powerful, from what I’ve read of their signatures, but together they are a force that could change the very course of history here. They are also accompanied by one of us. A sorceror. An Archlich. In point of fact. Though he does not come close to matching me, he will know much of the Sorcerous lores, and will be a deadly opponent.”

The men he had called in said nothing, waiting for him to finish his speech, Anthrax chuckled evilly, “That was the bad news. The good news is that the final pieces have arrived. And we can now begin laying down plans. Plans that will lead to the eventual conquering and domination of all the lands under ME!." Anthrax voice rose and he raised his clenched fists at the last word, he lowered his head and examined them all with his burning eyes, his mouth stretched into the parody of a grin, “Understand me. We will not fail.” he pointed to each of the men assembled in turn, “Each of you will put his all into this. And you will each report to me any changes in the plans, or that happen as time wears on. Do you understand me?" They all nodded vigorously, still silent, “We must plan ahead, but we must also meet any changes head on and instantly." Anthrax suddenly stepped back and gestured grandly. Troop and personnel listings appeared above the terrain. At least that much worked, “Begin. The world is yours for the taking. Generals. Begin marking in troop positions, agents and start the campaign planning. Sorcerors. I want every empire fractured from within and ready to crumble at the slightest touch! We need to not take by force what will fall by itself.”

The ten men surrounded the holographic projection as Anthrax stepped back and sat on his throne, a perfect vantage point from which he could survey the events as they unfolded.

****

“Prince Harkhé is already very weak. He has suffered a number of failures this past year, and has been unable to raise his lands out of poverty from the recent spat with Brégold. Harkhé is weak of mind and spirit and a poor ruler, he will be easy to sway.” Tarhhé, one of the Sorcerors, spoke in his deep voice. His thin face intense as he examined the hologram. It was currently a map of the lands, Ethael, as many knew them. A Sorceror beside him ran his fat finger along a road that wended from a huge walled city to a port city on the opposite side of Ethael, and followed a dotted line to the Jewel Islands, a string of fourteen islands, scattered with some of the largest trading cities in existence.

The Sorceror, a chubby, jovial fellow know as Tub by all, as nobody knew his actual name, “Trade and money buys all Tarhhé. Whom shall we send?” he asked, his voice cool and cultured.

“Three to watch. Three to work. Is that not the way of things?” Asked another, his dark features handsome and hard. He looked almost hawklike as he looked at the two.

“Ijie! It is two too many!” Tub cried.

“Pressure will crack him like a nut under a hammer. He is between Brégold and Brégüld. It will be but a trifling to bring their brotherly ‘love’ for each other to bear." Another dark Sorceror, Tarkhaan by name, his sauage like fingers and bearlike frame often made others mistake him for a warrior. Grey hair and beard proclaimed him as older then he looked. And chillingly cold eyes and instant silence from all nearby proclaimed him as leader, “Remember. It is not Harkhé we seek, but those fools he roped in to be his allies. We crack him and bring the brothers to war, and the three powers will bring their friends in to play.” He smirked with pleasure at the thought, “Harkhé may seem weak, but I have watched him long, he has maneouvered many into alliance with him because he seems exactly that. He will not be so easy to crack as you think. It will take a truly... light touch.” He looked at the fifth Sorceror who had not spoken. He was a handsome figure, pale skin and catlike silvered eyes proclaimed him somewhere between Lissi and Ancient. Though none knew his parentage. He lifted a slender hand and slowly flicked over the figure representing Harkhé, “Play with wolves. And you will be bitten.” the figure said in a singsong voice, his speech a strange mixture of soft letters and lilting vowels, so that it flowed like water, “I will deal with Harkhé, and his petty colleagues. I too, have watched the courts of the kinglings long.” He smiled cruelly, and gave a little lilting laugh, “Hah. It will be fun to play the game of daggers. Methinks." then his smile suddenly grew serious, “Long you have deliberated over the petty fools who hold power, but you forget the one who is over all. The King. He will not watch war come so easy, methinks." His catlike eyes narrowed as he examined the figure in the huge walled city, standing impregnable upon it’s mountain. “He will not stand to watch it.”

One of the generals who had been watching in silence, for they had long since completed their preliminary plans, Faradhé swept his hand over the city, scattering the little figures clustered around the king and the king himself.

“He will die.” he said, “The travellers will make their way to the capital sometime, if they have a native as our lord has said. Nereval is only as strong as those within. Strike when they have arrived, and put it on them.”

Tub shook his head, “I have played the game of daggers. The Mahhe are too thorough, and mark my words. They will investigate. You cannot hide such things from them. Just kill the king, and be done with it. That alone will cause unrest, the travellers will not be done away with so easily.”

“I agree. It will be much more entertaining to watch them dig themselves into a hole." Anthrax called out over the others, “Besides.” he added, “That’s far too cliché, and it’s so tacky it’s pettily vindictive.”

Faradhé bowed his head in assent, “But we kill the king.”

“Oh indeed.” the pale figure said, “I will do it myself, methinks time in court will sow much discord."

The others nodded.

Tarkhaan stroked his beard, “The king is not the only one who will oppose us. Ker’éntierr will be impossible to strike. I have not found a weakness in him.”

“He’s a bloody Ancient. That’s why. He’s got a standing army who’d wringe our necks like ragdolls and a court standing that’s impeccable!” One of the general’s growled, “We’ve avoided him in the campaign, he is but one lord. You should too."

“A thorn does not leave until you pull it out. Neither will he." Tub said coolly, “If we cannot use others, then we will corrupt him from within. His people will not be as strong as he, eventually, he will be forced to fight himself." Tub’s black eyes glittered, “I will enjoy the challenge.” he said, though his face betrayed nothing of what he felt.

“Two will go. Four stay. One more to walk. What crack must we make?” the hawklike one spoke again.

Another general, square jaw, high cheekbones and pale skin said he was skrael by descent, leaned forward and gestured at the map, it panned smoothly past the Jewel Islands to a vast continent of grasslands, mountains, and jungles. He tapped one of the cities, it rose out of the grasslands from nowhere, it’s back to a mountain range, and face to and endless sea of grass.

“The Emperor.” he said, “Invade. With the rise of Him.” At the mention of Him, the others collectively spat and their expressions showed their hatred, the general continued unperturbed, “As He rises, even Rowan will find himself unable to unite all the lands with so much discord.”

Tarkhaan nodded, “You are correct, Edrvï. The Emperor will be able to bring in a vast invasion force. With so many forces in conflict, we will be able to raise an even greater force from amoung them, and none will know.” He smiled and spread his hands over the lands, “And when all is said and done, and the lands begin to settle their tattered remnants, we will strike. And take all that remains.” His smile was anything but grandfatherly as he looked up at Anthrax.

The hawklike Sorceror touched the Emperor’s city, “I will go and do this deed. Then three will watch. And three will walk. And we will be right."

All the others nodded quietly. Their eyes sealing each other in a pact of mutual understanding.

Anthrax cracked his knuckles and laughed low and long, “Then let the games begin!” He roared and flung his arms wide, “Do your deeds my good men! And we shall see these lands under our dominion!” He steepled his fingers and looked into them, his skeletal grin seemed to grow wider as he chuckled softly, “As for me. I have some wandering travellers to attend to...”