《Brian the Drow: A Worldshapers & Realmbreakers LitRPG》 Chapter 1: Looking for Group ¡°You know, Brian, this is the third day in a row that you have called in sick.¡± There was a long sigh followed by a phlegm-filled grunt of disapproval, ¡°I¡¯m going to need you to bring me a doctor¡¯s note so that I can enter it into your employment file.¡± ¡°Yeah, alright, Greta.¡± Great that¡¯s just what I needed. A doctor¡¯s bill piling up on top of everything else. ¡°I¡¯ll see if I can get down to the clinic or something.¡± I could hear the suck and crackle of the cigarette Gretta or Grendel, as the rest of the staff and I referred to her behind her back, was chewing on. I had wracked my brain on more than one occasion trying to think if I had ever seen her without one of the foul-smelling cancer sticks hanging from between those overly painted, wrinkled lips. In all likelihood, she had been born like that. An uncomfortable childbirth to be sure, but then again, anything that could have given birth to such a creature was surely some sort of monstrosity too, right? There was a rustling of papers from the other end of the phone and yet another sigh. ¡°This weekend we¡¯re doing inventory so I hope this isn¡¯t some half-assed excuse to get out of it, because you can bet your boots that won¡¯t fly with me. I don¡¯t care if you are spilling from both ends. You bring a bucket and a cork if you have to, but come 6 a.m. Sunday I expect to see you in my office.¡± I let out a groan, but managed to cover it with a cough. I hated going into Grendels office, or perhaps den was a more accurate description. A tightly packed cave of dented filing cabinets, stacked manila envelopes turned brown by the thick swirling mass of ever-present smoke that clung to everything, including clothes. If you stayed more than even a handful of minutes it was a guarantee that you would smell like you too had a two-carton a day habit, though it was worse for me as it would inevitably set my overly sensitive sinuses running and give me coughing fits until I could get home and shower. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, I¡¯ll be there.¡± This time I coughed for real, ¡°Okay, I better go and get some rest then. Thanks, Greta.¡± There was another grunt from the other end and a long pause before I realized she had hung up on me. Why did I do that? Thank her? For what? Making my life miserable? Or, more miserable than it already was. I place the phone back in its cradle and pick up the half-empty glass of orange juice from the kitchenette counter. Poking about in the fridge, I pull out the bottle to fill it up but it has less than a swallow left swirling about at the bottom. Necessity being the mother of invention I top it up with a bit of orange soda then amble back to my computer desk and flop down. The screen flares to life with a tap of the keyboard and I tighten the blanket around my shoulders. Another string of sneezes leaves my chest and stomach aching and I glance to my disheveled futon bed in the corner. The thought of returning to it is a tempting one, however, I know that it would ultimately prove futile. I won¡¯t be going to sleep anytime soon. Not with what feels like wads of salted sandpaper jammed halfway down my throat and a glue-covered baseball in my sinus cavity. I¡¯ve never been the most healthy person to begin with. Of course, I blame my mom for that, having learned during some casual conversation many years ago that I¡¯d never been breastfed as a child. Nope. Mom, in her matriarchal wisdom, decided to toss out the thousands of years of tried and true method of child nursing. That¡¯s right, instead of feeding me good ol¡¯ wholesome mother¡¯s milk, you know the stuff that would have provided me with all of the nutrients, vitamins and essential genome germy things that a normal, healthy human body required, my sweet, bless her well-meaning soul mother, went with powdered baby formula. It would probably have been better if she¡¯d used Quick or Tang for my first pivotal months of life instead. At least then I would have gotten some calcium and Vitamin C. See, it was not my slow metabolism or lack of proper diet that was the cause of my often sickly state. And the lack of scientific evidence didn¡¯t matter one bit either. The revelation that I had ¡°never gotten the boobie¡± firmly cemented in my mind the reasoning for my pathetically low immune system, and my fascination with the delightful feminine orbs. My secret shame. I open my internet browser and start to scroll through my various Role Playing Game bookmarks. I read a few forum posts absently, and fight down the urge to respond to a couple of trolls. Instead, I click on some fantasy art. As the browser tabs build I continue to scroll through character pictures. A long sigh of frustration escapes my lips after a dozen or so pics have been saved to my desktop gaming folder and I pause my efforts. What was the point? I hadn¡¯t sat at a gaming table in almost a year now. Alice, Sam, Garvin and Richard had all moved off to college and jobs out of state. There was always Jim and his bunch. Not a particularly appealing thought. Their campaigns never lasted more than three sessions and usually ended with Jim declaring he had discovered a new game system that he wanted to try, or that he ¡°was getting bored with this genre.¡± If the gods of dice somehow smiled down on the campaign and it did get over the three-game hump, inevitably it would turn into the characters getting entered into some kind of tournament where they would have to fight one another to the death. A scenario where my character would be killed off early, despite whatever coercion skills or role-playing tricks I attempted to employ. After all, I had long grown out of the murder hobo, munchkin combat characters the rest of Jim''s group enjoyed running. Still, a game was a game. Perhaps I should give them a call? I feel a pang of depression at the idea of crawling back to their table. The same pang that I felt a couple of days ago when I had moved my Crown Royal dice bag to discover a dust stain on the counter around it. It had been almost three years since the local game store, The Imagination Station, had closed its doors and Game-masters and players that had already been hard to come by now seemed impossible to find. I take a sip at my lukewarm orange juice/soda concoction and tab open the RollCrit website. Perhaps it was time to give the online thing a try again. It takes me four attempts and a forgot password email but I finally manage to log in. First I check out the ¡®Find a Live Group in your Area¡¯ and find, with no surprise ¡®NONE¡¯. Well, except for my listing. Still, my heart sinks a bit at the information. I go back and start to scroll through the ¡®Looking for Group¡¯ online posts. This felt wrong. I had no idea who these people were, and although the web afforded a certain safety blanket in its anonymity that¡¯s not what I felt gaming was about. Sitting around with like-minded friends. That is what I wanted. Not to be plopped in front of a computer screen rolling imaginary dice. There was something missing without that personal touch. A sort of essential tangible piece that made RPG adventures all the more real to me.Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings. Or maybe I was just in the fading generation of gamers unwilling to move on with the times. Not that I was old! Cripes, I was only twenty-two. But it did seem that my unwillingness to change my paradigm was holding me back from the joy of gaming. ¡°That¡¯s it. I¡¯m doing it.¡± Perhaps this acceptance would flip it all around and make the drudgery slog that had become my life bearable again. My nerves steeled I click on over a dozen posts. After the fifth automated ¡°Sorry, full group.¡± message in my mailbox I¡¯m starting to get annoyed. A tone sounds from my speakers and a Private Message pops up from someone named WorldShaper. I click on the PM. ¡°What is your name?¡± With a shrug, I type back ¡°Hi there, I¡¯m Brian Brantly. Who¡¯s this?¡± ¡°Choose a Race¡± Human Dwarf Elf Halfling Half-Breed Other ¡°Whoa!¡± A pulse of excitement races through my body. Did I just find a game? My fingers fly over the keyboard as I quickly type back a message with a longer introduction and inquiring what players they might already have in their group. I hit return and the same message repeats. ¡°Choose a Race¡± Human Dwarf Elf Halfling Half-Breed Other Crap. It must be some kind of bot. Yet another sigh escapes my lips as my hopes are once more dashed against the rocks of my crappy reality. I get up and go top up my OJ soda then sit back down. Opening my mail again I see two more rejections. One of them isn¡¯t automated though. I¡¯m thankful for that at least. PegasusPaul says he will keep me in mind if he has any players drop out and that I might want to fill out my profile more. I take the advice and open up the online profile and go about filling out the brief questionnaire. Name: Brian Brantly Age: 22 Sex: Male Bio: Gamer for 10+ years both as Player and Games Master. Never tried online gaming but am eager to learn. I''ve watched a couple of videos of online games and practiced a bit with the tutorial controls of dice rolling and so forth. Open to any character type/class which the game needs. I don¡¯t mind a gritty game or hack-n-slash style adventure either. As long as it has good story and fun fellow players you can count me in! Enjoys Playing: YES! Favorite Genre: YES! Actively seeking Group for: ANYTHING! XD I read the profile over a couple of times wondering if I sound too pathetic and desperate. I recall overhearing Amanda accusing me of being just that to a few of our coworkers when she didn¡¯t realize I was stacking shelves in a nearby isle. Thankfully a quartet of sneezes shakes the doubt and painful memory from my mind and I click on the save button. The window closes and I see the WorldShaper bot PM window is still open. ¡°Fine¡± If nothing else maybe creating a character would put me in a better mood as I wait for the various Gamemasters to get back to me. The races seemed to be your usual fare and I¡¯m tempted to write something ridiculous like ¡®Other: Gelatinous Cube¡¯ but I refrain. Maybe I can use this character in a game if I¡¯m accepted into one. With that in mind, I feel a little better and give it some thought. Finally typing Elf. ¡°Choose a Subrace¡± High Elf Wood Elf Dark Elf Other I am tempted to type Dark Elf right away, but then everyone wants to play a Dark Elf. It¡¯s the reason I¡¯ve never played one in the past. And if I do manage to find a group I certainly don¡¯t want to be accused of being ¡®that guy¡¯ either. A High Elf would probably good with magic, which could be fun. Though I have no idea what system or genre I may find a free player space in. The Wood Elf? Perhaps a fighter or a ranger type. Maybe a Druid? That might be cool. Doubt prickles my brainpan again. Other? Again I¡¯m thinking what that could be? Like a Sea Elf or something? That could be super limited. Not that I mind. Could make for really fun Role Playing but... I type Dark Elf. ¡°Screw it! I¡¯ve never played one and I may never get the chance anyway so I may as well.¡± I blow my nose and turn back to the screen. ¡°Choose a Class¡± Fighter Priest Magic-User Thief Other ¡°Jeez. Going with the bare bones basic archetypes here, huh?¡± I shake my head. What would a Druid, Paladin or Ranger be? They could fit into multiple classes here.¡± Again with no clue of the genre, my choices seem limited. Even with the head cold giving me a migraine my gunky grey matter goes into overdrive. I want something different but something that could possibly fit in almost anywhere. A fighter or thief would be the obvious choices, but they are rather bland. Perhaps it would open up a whole new menu of choices like the Race sub-menu. Then again it might not and I have no idea how or if you could go back and make changes. ¡°Other: Gunslinger¡± I finish typing and hit enter, expecting the Worldshaper Bot to hit me back with a ¡®INVALID¡¯ message. ¡°Choose a Background¡± Acolyte Artisan Apprentice Craftsman Criminal Entertainer Folk Hero Herbalist Hunter Mariner Merchant Noble Outlander Squire Slave Scribe Soldier Urchin Other ¡°Sweet!¡± A Gunslinger could be hella cool. Though judging by some of the names in the Background choices this was swinging toward a fantasy based genre. The descriptions were broad enough to cover most things though. And there was always the Other choice too. That seemed to be a catch-all. I sat back to read over the choices again that familiar joy of character creation flooding back to me. But what to choose? Chapter 2: Character Creation Criminal is really tempting. It would open up things like contacts and access to black market gear and adventure leads. Then again, I don¡¯t want to step on the toes of any possible Rogue in the party. Playing the odds that''s most likely what a they''d take as Criminal does seem custom designed to be the background for that class. Also, if we end up having two criminals in a group that could really sway a campaign too. ¡°Humm.¡± Craftsman could be good and seems like it¡¯s one of those choices that will open up a whole sub-menu again. However, it¡¯s probably better to be specific. Like I did with Gunslinger. I can¡¯t see myself playing a Leatherworker. Don¡¯t they have to use ammonia or urine when tanning hide? I don¡¯t want to be the guy who smells like piss all the time. Stonemason? Maybe leave that clich¨¦ to a dwarf party member, if we have one. Locksmith? Nah, that¡¯s dancing around on the Rogues turf again. A Gemcutter or Jeweler could be good. He would probably have appraisal skills which would be useful to a group when treasure is involved. Blacksmith has been done to death so scratch that out. I¡¯ll most likely get some kind of tinkering ability with the Gunslinger too. At least enough to take care of my weapons anyway. Maybe I should double down on that? Something with a touch of tech to it. Watchmaker? Or maybe Steam tech? Then it hits me. Richard went off to college to get a degree in Mechanical Engineering. When he came home for summer he told me about all the fields he could branch off into.That is a huge range of possibilities. If we are in a dungeon it could be useful for making sure the tunnels are stable. Or finding weakness in structures or traps. Yeah, as long as I Role Play it and not try to be abusive I think that it¡¯d make for a pretty great supplement to whatever Gunslinger tinkering I may get. And, maybe even more importantly, it might allow me to assist the group and grant bonuses toward whatever professions they may choose. I look over selection to make sure my choice of Craftsman: Mechanical Engineer doesn¡¯t fit in anywhere else then I begin to type. My eyes water as a coughing fit takes me, followed by a trio of back to back sneezes. The baseball in my sinuses now feels like a watermelon. After blowing my nose and wiping away the tears I turn back to finish the entry. ¡°Oh what the hell?¡± The Background is gone replaced with a new set of choices. ¡°Choose a Perk¡± Ambidexterity Animal Friendship Blindfighting Direction Sense Distance Sense Durable Danger Sense Double Jointed Eidetic Memory Linguist Quick Calculator Lightning Reflexes Lightsleep Lucky Off hand Defense Simulate Death Perfect PitchPoison ResistanceSpeed Reading None Stupid cold. I must have hit return while I spasmed through my sneezes. Did I type it all in? I think I only got half way. Well, ¡®Mechanic¡¯ might not be too bad I guess. At the very least it should still allow me to be somewhat technically inclined. I force myself not to lament on the mistake for too long and read over the next entry again. The names seem pretty self-explanatory. Lightning Reflexes and Lightsleep have a strike through? Ah, perhaps I have them already? Makes sense for Gunslinger and it could simulate a kind of alertness for an Elf. I sit for a good ten minutes mulling them over until I finally go with Danger Sense. If I¡¯ve learned one thing in all my years reading Spidey comics, that power can be a literal lifesaver. I¡¯m rewarded with a new screen pop up. ****************** Name: Brian Brantly Race: Dark Elf Class: Gunslinger Background:Craftsman, Mecha/WarGear REMAINING CHARACTER POINTS: 61
Strength: 11 < > (+1 Craftsman) cost 1pt
Dexterity: 15 < > (+2 Dark Elf) (+2 Gunslinger) (+1 Craftsman) cost 2pt
Vitality: 10 < > cost 1pt
Intelligence: 12 < > (+1 Dark Elf) (+1 Craftsman) cost 1pt
Wits: 12 < > (+1 Dark Elf) (+1 Craftsman) cost 1pt
Presence: 12 < > (+2 Gunslinger) cost 1pt
Allure: 13 < > (+2 Dark Elf) (+1 Gunslinger) cost 1pt
Attack Value: 5 < > (+1 Dark Elf) (+1 Gunslinger) cost 5pt
Defense Value: 4 < > (+1 Dark Elf) cost 5pt
Physical Resilience 2 < > cost 2pt
Energy Resilience 2 < > cost 2pt
Recovery: 5 < > cost 1pt
Stun: 20 < > cost 0.5pt
Hit Points: 12 < > (+2 Gunslinger) cost 2pt
Manapool: 10 cost NA
Heroic Ability Danger Sense: 14 - ¨C lvl 1¨C (Passive) A character with this Ability has a sixth sense about danger. A successful Danger Sense check prevents him from being surprised in combat. Dark Elf Racials: Darkvision (Dark Elf): You can see in (non-magical) darkness as though it were normal daylight. Elven Eyes (Dark Elf): Enhancement to Sight based Perception. Expanded Breathing: Thin Air (Dark Elf): You require less air than normal. Elven Meditation (Dark Elf): You enter a trance lasting 4 hours in which you gain the benefit of 8 hours of sleep. Lightsleep (Dark Elf): You sleep lightly and therefore are rarely surprised while resting. Longevity (Dark Elf): You have a possible lifespan of 2000+ yearsIf you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. Magical Resistance- Charm (Dark Elf): Attempts to magically charm you are less effective. Swiftness (Dark Elf): - You are fleet of foot, doubling normal movement speed. Dark Elf- Special Abilities Elven Lightstep ¨C (Passive) This ability allows an Elf to walk on any surface and not leave signs of their passing. -7pts Purchase? Y/N Shadow Meld ¨C lvl 1¨C (Passive) Due to both magical infusion and your own skin coloration you blend to near invisibility in areas of darkness or shadow. This ability disappears if you move quickly or attack. ¨C 10pts Purchase? Y/N Darkness ¨C lvl 1 ¨C (Action) You can summon a globe of darkness to envelop an area, blinding all those caught within.¨C (Mana cost- 6) 10pts Purchase? Y/N Gunslinger:
+1 Attack Value ¨C Weapon Group (CHOOSE ONE - Pistols, Rifles, Scatterguns) cost to raise 3pt
Explosives 11- > cost to raise 2pt
Gunsmith 11- > cost to raise 2pt
Weaponsmith 11- > cost to raise 2pt
Chose 5 additional Skills from the following List: ActingCharmClimbingConcealmentConversation Gambling Handle Animal High Society Insight Inventor NavigationPersuasion RidingStealth Streetwise Sleight of Hand SurvivalTrackingTrading Gunslinger Abilities Lightning Reflexes (Gunslinger): Character has increased DEX only for the purpose of acting first. GunFu (Gunslinger): You have trained to fight effectively with ranged weapons in close combat situations without penalty. ¨C 5pts Purchase? Y/N Quick Draw: lvl 1 ¨C (Fast Action) Draw a weapon a fast action. ¨C 5pts Purchase? Y/N FlashBang Shot ¨C lvl 1 ¨C (Action) Gunslinger may fire their weapon close to an opponent¡¯s head imposing the blinded and defended condition for a short time. ¨C 5pts Purchase? Y/N Pistol Whip ¨C lvl 1 ¨C (Re-Action) Gunslinger may use the butt of their weapon to make a melee attack. ¨C 5pts Purchase? Y/N Drop it! ¨C lvl 1 (Action) Gunslinger may target an item on or held by another character. On a success target is forced to drop item. -5pts Purchase? Y/N Craftsman, Mecha/WarGear:
Inventor 11- > cost to raise 2pt
Metal Fabrication 11-> cost to raise 2pt
Streetwise 11- > cost to raise 2pt
WarGearsmith 11- > cost to raise 2pt
Chose 4 additional Skills from the following List: ArmorsmithAirship techBribery Concealment Conversation Forgery Oratory Golem tech High Society Lockpicking Magitech RidingTrading Weaponsmith WarGear Rider Craftsman, Specials: Market Song: (Action) Through minor arcane manipulation the skills of Conversation, Persuasion and Trading are increased for a short time. (costs Mana) -5pts Purchase? Y/N Mending : (Action) Repairs damage to simple objects. All of the pieces of an object must be present for this spell to function. (Mana cost- 2) -7pts Purchase? Y/N Ice Maker: (Slow Action) Grants the ability to chill liquids down to freezing temperatures. Useful on hot days. (Mana cost 1) -4pts Purchase? Y/N Clean Shop: (Slow Action) A spell often used at the end of the day to tidy up a workshop or place of business. (Mana cost 2) -4pts Purchase ? Y/N ****************** I try and take it all in but I¡¯m pretty lost in the complexity. "Okay, Huh?" I guess I didn¡¯t type mechanic and only got as far as Mecha before. But the WorldShaper Bot accepted it anyway. That¡¯s pretty cool. After all, chicks dig giant robots. I don¡¯t know how well they fit into a fantasy setting. Though I suppose there are lots of genres that have Golem and Steampunk type tech mixed in. And it¡¯s automatically renamed it to WarGear so I guess it fits. The stats seem pretty standard compared to most game systems. Probably an 8 stat as average with a maximium of 20. Player Characters are usually always just a bit above the average NPC stat baseline. I¡¯m guessing Presence is how charismatic or intimidating you are. But then what is Allure? Perhaps that is your actual attractiveness? A sort of interaction stat? I mouse over and click the arrow for Allure up to 23 before it won¡¯t go any further and I see Character Points have decreased to 51. Racial and Class bonuses may increase maximum stat levels as well, I guess. ¡°Whoa.¡± I mouse over the Allure again but the increase and decrease arrows have disappeared. It doesn¡¯t let you go back and change the stats? Pretty hardcore, but, in a good way. Decisions have consequences just like a proper RPG should. Alright, sure. I can roll with the punches. Besides I still have plenty of points to spend. After a bit of study I think I recognize the basics of a 3d6 system going on here. Usually 3d6 are rolled and you must roll below a target number, and like with most systems, adjustment modifiers based on things like environmental factors affect the outcome. I''m not positive how the combat system works, but It seems to lean toward the higher the better. I really take my time now. Scrolling down I choose my skills first as they won¡¯t cost me any points. I see a few are in both the Gunslinger and Craftsman choices so I¡¯m careful not to pick the same one twice. First Gunslinger. I pick Pistols as my favored weapon, then Riding, Sleight of Hand, Stealth, Survival and finally Charm. If I have an Allure of 23. I¡¯m sure that will give a good boost. And looks like I was right because my Charm Skill is now listed at 14-. Next is Craftsman and I go for the tech skills. Airship Tech, Magi Tech, Golem Tech and WarGear Rider. Cause who wants to just build a Mech--er a WarGear when you can run around in one. I increase Intelligence next. Slowly inching it up I notice that the > arrow stays but the < disappears. When I hit 13 I see that all of the technical skills jump to 12-. I keep going and take it to 18 and am rewarded with 13- in most skills. Now, I¡¯m feeling super pleased with myself as I¡¯m pretty sure I¡¯m getting the hang of the cost-effective numbers. I bump up Wits and Presence to get them to 13¡¯s as well. Strength gets bought to 15 as I don¡¯t want to be a weakling. And that seems a good level for me to be able to throw a pretty solid melee attack if I need to. ¡°Damn!¡± My remaining character points have dropped down to 40 already and I haven¡¯t even purchased Dexterity, touched combats stats or considered any of the cool special abilities yet. I want to max out Dex but stop at 18. My crappy Vitality of 10 reminds me of my sickly real-life state, and out of spite I end up taking it up to a 15 as well. Somehow, I manage to refrain from clicking any further. Perhaps because seeing my remaining points tick down to 29 snaps me back to reality. Mending is too good a Special Ability not to take. I¡¯ve seen it used hundreds of times in games and there are always things like misfire rules with guns. Being able to do quick repairs of tech along with my complementary backgrounds skills? I¡¯ve clicked on it before I even realize and my points drop to 22. ¡°UGH!¡± Buying Shadow Meld and seeing the points reach 12 feels like a literal punch in the stomach and I have to look away from the screen. Invisibility in dim light and shadows, without a mana cost? Usable at will? Yes, please. My blood is pumping now and decide to go with some of the Gunslinger Special abilities to wrap up my points. GunFu (Gunslinger): You have trained to fight effectively with ranged weapons in close combat situations without penalty. ¨C 5pts Purchase? Y/N Quick Draw: lvl 1 ¨C (Fast Action) Draw a weapon as fast action. ¨C 5pts Purchase? Y/N FlashBang Shot ¨C lvl 1 ¨C (Action) Gunslinger may fire their weapon close to an opponent¡¯s head imposing the blinded and deafened condition for a short time. ¨C 5pts Purchase? Y/N Pistol Whip ¨C lvl 1 ¨C (Re-Action) Gunslinger may use the butt of their weapon to make a melee attack. ¨C 5pts Purchase? Y/N Drop it! ¨C lvl 1 (Action) Gunslinger may target an item on or held by another character. On a success target is forced to drop item. -5pts Purchase? Y/N I can buy two and still have a couple of points left over. Decisions, decisions... Chapter 3: Save and Enter GunFu is an easy decision. Who doesn¡¯t want to be all John Wicks Woo bang banging it up? I click on that first. The next choice takes me awhile but I decide on Drop it! Although the others seem good, this one has the potential for use both in and out of combat. I¡¯ll just have to hope that my Lightning Reflexes and Danger Sense combo is enough to compensate for the lack of Quick Draw though. With the last points, I increase Recovery by one. Stun by two and try not to think about all the wasted points in Allure. As soon as the final point is spent another window opens ¡°Choose a Limitation¡± Dependence Distinctive Features Hunted Negative Reputation Physical Limitation Psychological Limitation Rivalry Social Limitation Susceptibility Unlucky Vulnerability Character Limitations Distinctive Features: Dark Elf ¨C Unless efforts are employed to disguise yourself it is clearly apparent that you are a Dark Elf. Vulnerability: Flash attacks based on bright light have increased effect and duration. Physical Limitation: Light-Sensitive Eyes- When exposed to bright light character has a penalty to Perception Checks. Rivalry: Gunslingers - Contenders often seek you out to prove who is better. It must be getting close to the end of character creation now. I mull over my choices noticing that I already have a few pre-assigned. Nothing has a strike through so I suppose I could chose another in the same category but I''d rather take something different. Seems I kind of already have Hunted with the Rivalry thing. Though by that title Hunted sounds like it edges more toward a deadly confrontation instead of a friendly competition. Let''s not have some bad ass enemy gunning for me straight out of the gate. Social Limitation I could easily write up as the typical clich¨¦ of Dark Elves being untrustworthy and people being wary or fearful of them. Pass. How about Psychological Limitation: Fear of Spiders. That could rather funny. Perfect to turn the whole Drow and their close association with the Evil goddess of spiders thing on its head. I almost type it in. Maybe I¡¯ll just make that more of a Role Play personality trait instead. ¡°Yeah.¡± What is something that I can role-play easily? I type, Unlucky.If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. I laugh out loud at myself which sets me off coughing. That definitely works but it is a little bit too broad I think. I don¡¯t want my gun exploding in my face every fight or to have my character tripping on banana peels. Unlucky in Love. Yeah, totally fitting. I haven¡¯t had a girlfriend since High School, and even then I¡¯m not one hundred percent sure we were actually dating. Just a couple of clumsy kids making out a bit. Sure the times may be changing and it may be cool to be into geeky things nowdays, but that certainly hasn¡¯t translated into any sort of interest from the opposite sex towards me yet. I hit return and I¡¯m taken back to the character sheet, now with my Character Limitations added to the bottom. Along with a pop-up window from the WorldShaper Bot. ¡°Do you wish to Continue¡± Delete and Exit Save and Enter Your choice is final. I guess this will save into my user profile? That ''your choice is final'' thing makes me pause. Can I not redo my character if I chose Exit? Is this like a one-time thing per profile? I certainly don¡¯t want to have to go through the hassle of remaking a new account from scratch. And, I don''t even know how I triggered the WorldShaper bot in the first place. Though my real name on the character sheet does bug the breath out of me. Maybe I¡¯ll send in a support ticket to the site administrators and ask if they can change it. That shouldn¡¯t be a problem. Perhaps I¡¯ll suggest they add something to the WorldShaper bots initial message too. So others don¡¯t fall into the same trap I did. I¡¯m one hundred percent certain I¡¯m not the only one that has made that mistake. I give the sheet another look and move the mouse to the Save and Enter button. I click and release and my apartment goes black. ¡°No. No! Damn it!¡± Did it save? The dying screen turns into a grey light allowing me to see the outline of my monitor for but a moment then it too is gone. ¡°Are you kidding me?¡± In the dark, my fingers tap on my dead keyboard and click on the mouse in a frantic one, two, three, four beat. Nothing. ¡°Typical.¡± It wasn¡¯t that uncommon to have a blackout in my apartment complex. The building was old and in desperate need of rewiring. They would usually last for a half hour or so, maybe less if the superintendent got off his lazy butt and flipped the breakers. My flu is starting to get the better of me and I feel like I need to go and lay down. I lean back in my chair and stare upward into darkness. I can¡¯t even see the ceiling. My crappy shoebox apartment is in the middle of the building. Another reason for the inexpensive rent, so I don¡¯t even have any windows to open to let in any light, or fresh breeze for that matter. With the central air now off I know it¡¯s only going to be a matter of minutes before the entire place becomes a sweltering hotbox. I wait for what feels like three-quarters of an hour but what is most likely no more than a few minutes. On shaky legs, I stand and take a step toward what I think is the corner and my mattress. Maybe I can get to sleep before the temperature becomes unbearable. Though sitting in a sauna is supposed to be good when you''re sick, right? I reach out into the black and my forearm hits something. A split second later I hear the smash of what can only be my plastic bin of minis tumbling off of my bookshelf and spilling across the floor like the painstakingly painted, pewter caltrops, they now are. ''Wonderful." Reaching back for my chair I hit my desk and there is a second crash and a wetness seeps into my socks from a now shattered glass of juice infused orange soda. My panic grows as I stand in the dark and reach about frantically for my desk chair and am rewarded with empty air. Crap. It must have rolled back when I stood up. I¡¯m getting scared now. Not because of the very real threat of stepping on shards of broken glass and beverage coated gaming figures. Nor the fact that I¡¯m completely blind. No, I''m frightened because I¡¯m getting very light headed. Somehow the blackness is spinning, my breath coming faster as I start to hyperventilate. What do I do? What do I do? Breath into a paper bag! There are paper bags in the kitchen cabinet. Stumbling in what I hope is the right direction I forget the dangerous terrain and am rewarded with a stab of pain in my left foot. I cry out, tumble off balance to collide and trip over something at shin height. My second cry of pain rises to a scream of terror as I fall for way, way too long. I flail about for a good minute in the eerie, all-consuming blackness until I hit the floor with a... splash? Chapter 4: Shock and Aww Yeah! Panic grips my chest and I try to cry out for help from my next door neighbors. Praying one of them is home and will hear me. Instead I''m rewarded with a mouthful of cold liquid. I spin and thrash, weightless. I look around trying to find something, anything in the cold darkness. There is light above twinkling in the black canopy and I kick toward it as fast as I can. My hands reach out and claw in the direction of possible salvation. With a goal in sight, I manage to get my level of panic down from wacky wavy inflatable arm flailing tube man to a mere pants-wetting fear. It does, however, give me enough control that my movements turn into more powerful coordinated strokes. Ones that actually serve to increase my speed and propel me upward toward my target. I break the surface with a gasp, filling my starving lungs with air. I get a bit more of what tastes like water down my throat but pure bodily instinct takes over, coughing it up then sucking down another helping of sweet oxygen. My eyes sting fiercely and everything is bright and chaotic. Where am I? There is a roar that sounds like... a waterfall? I spin about and attempt to get my bearings. With my feet treading water I bring up a hand to shield my eyes from the harsh stinging light and slowly the world begins to come into focus. There is a forest all around me and I¡¯m splashing about near the centre of a large pool. The water churns around me from a large, twin waterfall that tumbles over a cliff edge of orange colored rocks a good forty or so feet above. Even in my distressed state I take in the beauty. The trees are rich and green, framing a, painfully bright, nearly cloudless blue sky above. Rainbows arch through the misty haze at the base of the waterfall where it splashes against the base of the cliff and the smooth, water-worn, slick rocks. A weird cold shiver runs from the base of my neck and down my spine. I look up to the top of the cliff where a flock of birds burst from the branches of the trees. A split second later a monster appears with a roar on top of the rocky outcropping. I¡¯ve already ducked back under the water. And it¡¯s a good thing too because my panicked cry would definitely have alerted it to my presence. Luckily my girlish scream comes out as a series of large bubbles that pop harmlessly across the water¡¯s surface. Though hazy from looking through a lens of disturbed liquid I can still see the nightmare beast as it peers down at the water¡¯s surface. The thing is easily the size of a horse, with a scaled grey-green hide and a feline-like body. It crawls forward, the foot long spines that run down its head and back quiver. Then it leaps. Muscular limbs propel it through the air to another rock where it grips the edge of the stone with long dagger length claws. It''s headcocks left and right in a jerky movement that reminds me of a bird of prey as it continues to once more study the pool. My lungs begin to burn. Stupid bread brained boob! Crying out like that before. Alright, sure. I¡¯m probably being too hard on myself. A little freak out is perfectly reasonable when, in a blink, the world goes all bizzaro and there is the very real possibility that you may become lunch for something straight out of Prehistoric Park. Perception: Success! I look about underwater and see a break in the rocks under the churning waterfall. It means swimming in the general direction of the thing but it seems to be my only chance. Using the rocks of the ponds floor I pull myself along the bottom and through the mouth of the tunnel. The water is a bit more still in here and the bubbles that cling to the ceiling above look like balls of quicksilver. Moving to the largest I put my lips to it and drain it and then a few of its smaller buddies. I give a silent sigh of relief, surprised at how much better I feel even with what can only be a couple of shallow breaths worth of air. I¡¯m tempted to go back and see if the monster is gone, but, I spot an even larger pocket in the stone a little further down and decide to press forward. As I swim closer I realize it¡¯s not just a big bubble but an actual cave. Lights sparkle and twinkle above the surface, like a doorway to heaven. I wonder briefly if that is exactly what this is. Am I¡¯m dead back in my apartment? Did I hit my head on the edge of my computer desk and now my skull is cracked open like a overripe melon. Perhaps I am laying there on the floor, slowly bleeding out on top of my coveted dice collection and my carefully sorted, genre coded binders, of old character sheets. Most are laminated so they¡¯d be salvageable, but it¡¯s still a rather horrifying thought. Besides being dead of course. Gripping the edge of the hole I get my feet under me, haul myself out of the water, then crawl forward and flop over onto my back. I again marvel how I¡¯m not as winded as I thought I¡¯d be, although, when I glance about the breath does catch in my throat.Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator. The cave is alive with a kaleidoscope of colors that dance and sparkle over a roof that looks to be made of thousands of shards of multi-colored glass. Glittering light in shades of blue, purple and red dance over magnificent crystal beams that jut from floor to ceiling. Many of the large sword bladed structures glowing with a heartbeat of slowly shifting hues. I wipe water from my eyes with the back of my wrist and notice they hurt a lot less. Weird how you can get a bit light sensitive when you¡¯re sick. Though I don¡¯t feel sick. In fact, I feel great. Better than I have in... ever! I stand and almost hit my head on a aqua blue glowing crystal. Strange, with my short statue I figured there was more than enough room. As I turn about I see a man in the corner. I yelp in surprise and he does the same, pulling a gun from a holster to aim at me. I¡¯m a touch faster with my own pistol and the world explodes in light and sound. Condition: Blinded - 4 rounds. ¡°AGH! I¡¯ve been shot!¡± I drop to the ground and grab my face, hands furiously rubbing over my eyes. Blinking as blackness and bursts of white swim in my vision. I don¡¯t feel pain anywhere else. Did he hit me in the head with a taser or something? ¡°Don¡¯t shoot you lunatic! I¡¯m unarmed!¡± Although, I do feel something cold gripped tightly in the palm of my right hand, and my finger is resting on the trigger guard of, what I know is, my pistol? ¡°Dude? I don¡¯t know what the hell is going on but don¡¯t tase me, bro!¡± I feel foolish quoting the meme but it¡¯s the first place my brain goes. Hopefully my attacker will find it funny enough that he won¡¯t do it again, cause that really frigging hurt! Slowly, my vision clears and I shoot of a silent prayer of thanks that the blindness wasn¡¯t permanent. I blink a few more times and take my life into my hands, popping my head from the floor to steal a glance toward where the man is. Instead, I see a shattered beam of crystal standing in the exact spot where my assailant had been a moment ago. With my brain overtaxed it still takes me a moment to realize that it had been my own reflection that I¡¯d seen in the smooth mirrored surface. I look down to the gun I have cradled in my dirt-blackened right hand as I sit up to my knees. It¡¯s heavy. A ugly hunk of dark grey metal pitted with rust filled pock marks along the entirety of both barrel and body. Of simple design it reminds me of an ye olden days pirate pistol except that it has a hinge near the centre similar to a shotgun. The cracked and faded wooden grip is bound with strips of sweat-stained navy blue cloth, and I¡¯m pretty sure it is missing a screw at the bottom. How did this thing not explode and blow off my hand when I fired it? Just holding it freaks me out and I¡¯m about to place it carefully back in the holster. Like I¡¯m on auto pilot my thumb flicks a catch on the side and the weapon breaks open on the centre hinge exposing a single, still smoking, brass shell. Almost faster than my mind can register I¡¯ve pulled the spent shell from the chamber, tucked it into an empty loop on the belt around my waist, and slid a fresh cartridge in its place. My hand spins the pistol with a deft flourish before sliding it into its home on my hip. Still in shock I barely have time to process that before I look at my body realizing I¡¯m dressed in totally different attire than I had been in my apartment. ¡°What happened to my clothes?¡± Gone is my, faded by the wash, Big Trouble in Little China tee, replaced by a sopping wet, deep red cotton shirt. An equally waterlogged old, brown leather jacket, cracked and faded pretty much everywhere, sits heavy on my frame. Many of the dull metal studs missing from the sleeves and shoulder padding, the only evidence they were once there, the empty small round holes and a few twirls of thread. My grey sweat pants have been replaced too. Now dark brown trousers, stitched with heavy leather on the thighs cover my legs, held up with a wide gun belt ringed with shells and a couple of pouches. I notice that the pants legs tuck just below the knee into high, scuffed black leather, pirate boots. ¡°Oh jeez, my foot.¡± I remember the stab of agony from before and fall to my butt. Grabbing at the left boot I tug it off, expecting to still find either a huge sliver of glass or a pewter wizard with a pointy hat lodged into the soft arch. Thankfully there is no clear wound to be seen, though my foot is almost blue-black in color. I nearly faint. ¡°On my god, I¡¯ve been infected with lead poisoning or something!¡± I knew the price of those Chinese knock off fantasy minis were too good to be true! Now I¡¯m gonna lose my foot cause I didn¡¯t want to shell out for overpriced, blind box, globed on color pre-paints. ¡°Damn you and your affordable shipping!¡± My fingers scramble at my pants leg exposing my calf. The blue-black has stained my skin past the knee. In a panic I pull my shirt up and expose my waist and more dark, indigo tinted skin. What the hell happened to my stomach? It¡¯s not soft and doughy from way to many ¡®Big Joes party pizza and garlic butter breadstick basket¡¯ weekend coupon, and ex-employee discount, combo deals. Instead it''s smooth and hairless. Even with the dark coloration the skin looks... vibrant and healthy? Nothing like my blotchy complexioned belly. I twist about and watch toned muscle play beneath the surface. With a deep breath I tighten and hold my stomach and am rewarded with a set of obsidian cut, eight-pack abs. There is even that distinctive V of muscle where my legs meet my waist. The arrow-like shape pointing down... Below the waistband of my trousers. Tentatively, I swallow a gulp and pull the waist of my pants down below the belt and forward a few inches. ¡°Hot damn! Where did that come from?¡± Somehow I¡¯m packing some serious firepower, and I don¡¯t mean the holstered pistol bumping against my hip. Scrambling over to a few of the large crystals my eyes search about until I find one against the cavern wall that¡¯s easily twelve feet tall and on an almost 90 degree angle to the floor. Its smooth surface polished by time to a mirrored sheer. My jaw drops as I stare at the reflection. And the real-life Drow standing where my out of shape body should be. Chapter 5: The Adventure Begins... To make sure it is not some sort of a trick I¡¯ve been testing the indigo skinned stranger in the reflection for at least a minute. Swinging my arms wildly, touching my nose and sticking out my tongue. I have even done the Bugs Bunny cartoon step out of the reflections frame and jump back in followed by a turn to walk away and ¡°Think fast!¡± surprise quick turnaround. ¡°How is this real?¡± The voice sounds like my own, but not as nasally as I remember. A touch deeper and with a bit of gravel to it. ¡°Do you feel lucky, punk?¡± Like an action hero. Or the morally ambiguous stars of those old spaghetti westerns I¡¯d spent hours watching with my dad as a kid. I fire off a few more statements and catchphrases getting more comfortable with the sound even as I take the time to study his... my body. I¡¯m definitely taller. Perhaps six foot three, or even four, where I¡¯d been barely scraping at five foot six before. The slight pear shape that I had been steadily developing over the last year, due to my habit of comfort food binging to battle my ever increasing depression, has completely disappeared. Now I¡¯m lithe and wiry, with the muscle tone of competitive swimmer that somehow finds the time in his busy schedule to be a heart-throb actor and underwear fashion model when not training in the gym. It¡¯s almost ridiculous. I can¡¯t tell if it¡¯s the fact that I¡¯m still soaking wet from my recent underwater dip or if this body naturally looks like it¡¯s been oiled down for a barely SFW swimsuit calendar photo shoot. I step forward to get a better look at my face. Golden amber eyes compliment my blue-purple toned skin. Should I call it burple? No, that sounds kind of gross, and I¡¯m looking damn good for a description like that. How about Midnight Indigo? Yeah, a bit pretentious sounding, but much more fitting. Just like with my voice I¡¯m glad that I can recognize a hint of my own features. Though now sharp and angular, instead or round and pudgy. Being able to see myself in this new face somehow makes this whole situation a little more comforting. Less alien. Knowing that it¡¯s really me standing here in the flesh and not some sort of a disembodied dream spirit possessing a sylvan Adonis. My jawline is much more defined, and like my torso, completely devoid of hair. The hair that does frame my, very handsome, face is stark white and matted down to my neck, stopping just a little past the top of my shoulders. I see something nearly hidden peaking out on the side of my head and reach up to brush the silky strands back. The long tapered tips of my ears exposed I can¡¯t help but play with them for a moment, outlining the shape with thumb and forefinger. A weird tingle builds, then shivers down the side of my neck to race across my chest. Goosebumps rise in the wake of the delightfully erotic sensation as it speeds downward toward the lower parts of my new impressively developed anatomy. Releasing the sensitive edges of my ears with a rather embarrassing gasp, I follow up with a manly throat clearing, and a quick glance about in an instinctual moment of making sure no one was around to catch me doing what I had just been doing. I spot a shadowed corner a few feet away and move over to it before turning back to the mirror to test a theory. Standing perfectly still I watch myself in the reflection. For a brief moment nothing seems to happen but then, I¡¯m gone. Well no, not completely gone. I mean if I really concentrate hard enough I can see the outline of my form where the dim light catches the edge of my body but I think it''s only because I know that I''m there. I take a step to the side and the sudden stark clarity of my form that jumps out of the shadows in the reflection makes me start and grin with a hint of fear tinged surprise. ¡°Damn, this is cool!¡± I try it a few more times, making sure it isn¡¯t some fluke trick of the light. I test moving a bit more slowly gauging how fast it takes me until I pop back. Around the fifth or sixth time, my joy filled knee-slapping laughter makes it impossible to duplicate the effect. My laughing stops, however. when I spot something behind me, half hidden by a mass of crystal is a skeletal arm wrapped in tatters of cloth. I step back in the shadows and glance about nervously. Once invisible again I feel a little bit better and start to move in the direction of the remains to get a better look. The length of bone ends in a splintered mass but there are more bits of white scattered about on the floor, forming a sort of path leading further back into the cave. I move to follow, skirting around a glowing block-like crystal growth the size of a washing machine and find the possible once owner of the discarded appendage. And perhaps a few of his friends. Strewn around a sort of nest made from of the skeletal remains of fish, small animals and what looks like a few dozen birds are three broken and mangled human skeletons. Or maybe humanoid would be a better description as one of the bodies has an odd bone structure. It¡¯s skull a bit too wide and thick, with a couple of large tusk-like teeth jutting up from its lower jaw.This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience. Inching my way closer to the grisly display and I can make out other things besides bone woven into the nest. Along with sticks and twigs are strips of cloth, bits of crystal, or perhaps gems, shiny coins, arrows and a two-foot-long sword in a tattered scabbard. My hand is just about to reach over and free the blade from its prison when a strange cold shiver runs from the base of my neck to midway down my spine. I freeze and a second later hear a faint scraping sound. Moving as slowly as I can I glance back toward the way I came. Peering between the crystal obstructions to the water-filled tunnel I see a shape, still half submerged, sliding out of the pool. The water ripples gently around a foot thick serpentine body covered with dark blue-green scales. As it continues to inch out, a large knot appears and I see that part of it is coiled around a waterlogged rabbit the size of a small dog. I draw my gun slowly. The snakes'' movements stop just as my pistol clears the holster and it uncoils from the rabbit. In a flash, it darts away with a burst of speed that turns my blood to ice. I reorient on it and see it, thankfully, hasn¡¯t come any closer and has instead coiled itself around one of the beams near the tunnel entrance. I lean to the left to get a better look and silently fire off a few F-bomb laden curses. The thing is leering over my wet boot that¡¯s still laying out in the open. My mouth goes dry as I get a good look at the creature. I know what it is straight away. I¡¯ve thrown them at players on more than one occasion. But actually seeing it in person it¡¯s much more horrible than I could have imagined. Its head is human in only the loosest sense, more of a skull really. With tight drawn skin dusted with a smattering of fine scales over its on the protruding cheeks. Yellow eyes the size of tennis balls continue to study my boot from their deep setting under a sloped brow. A nose, little more than two vertical slits, sits over a mouth so wide that it ends where the ears should be. ¡°Sssomeone intrudersss my home?¡± It lowers its head to my wet footwear and a forked tongue flicks in and out. Watching and hearing words spill pass its lips and over the protruding, eel-like underbite, nearly makes me scream. A set of frilled spines bristle stick out at odd angles and quiver in agitation as it swings its head about. They give off a strange, low rattling sound that makes my skin crawl. The serpentine body slinks away from my discarded boot. Uncoiling to move toward the mirrored beam I¡¯d shot on my arrival. What the hell do I do now? Naga¡¯s are crazy dangerous and they have magic too. I wrack my brain trying to think what breed this could be but it doesn¡¯t match the descriptions or pictures from the pages of my numerous Monster Handbooks. Survival: Success! Lesser River Naga These evil creatures prefer to ambush their prey, dropping from trees or striking from underwater to inject their paralytic poison. Though dim-witted they are capable of speech but thankfully do not possess the innate magical talents of their, much more intelligent, and dangerous cousins. Wait? I get a strange rush of knowledge. I don''t so much see the words as... feel them? Almost as if a Game Master has read out or delivered the breakdown of a monster manual gamebook description directly into my brain. My fear ebbs ever so slightly. Okay, this thing is dangerous and definitely super-freaky scary, but maybe not as bad as I thought. ¡°Where isss you?¡± The Naga slithers around a few of the glowing crystalline growths. ¡°No worry. We make friendsss, yesss? I no eat you very deliciousss sssweet meatsss.¡± Funny, I really don¡¯t believe her. Especially by the way she is making loud smacking noises with her lips and dribbling like Wile E. Coyote. I squeeze the grip of my pistol for confidence but then an awful thought comes back and I look about at the glittering crystals everywhere. The last time I shot this thing in here the reflective flashes blinded me. Doing that again now would be would be a definite death sentence. I bite my lip and reach down to the nest and start to tug a thick strip of cloth free. Stealth vs Naga¡¯s Perception: Fail! The material comes free with a loud sshrrrip that echoes off the walls of the chamber. The Naga¡¯s head pops up from the far corner, its bristle beads rattling. Once again I witness that horrible flash of speed as it flies around the obstructions and toward its nest. Every instinct tells me to scream and run but I somehow force that reaction down. Scales sliding over some of the crystals coating the floor the Naga slams against the wall in its haste but it quickly spins in my direction. It doesn¡¯t move for a moment, its eyes and head flicking left and right as it studies the darkness where I¡¯m standing some ten or so feet away. ¡°Isss you here?¡± It¡¯s jaws open and between rows of needle-thin teeth, two long fangs extend dripping poison. ¡°You isss play hide gamesss? Careful to move as slowly as possible and not break my Shadow Meld I¡¯ve bought the wad of cloth over the barrel of my pistol holding it firmly down like a sleeve. The Naga is slithering closer now, those glittering yellow eyes searching. ¡°I will findsss.¡± Its tongue flicks, tasting the air. I hold my breath, easing back the hammer with my thumb. It¡¯s only a few feet away now, but it¡¯s leaning its head away. Damn it. It is too low for a clear shot. ¡°Then I eatsss.¡± It whispers it low, a stupid grin plastered on its face. ¡°Naga, please.¡± I grunt. It¡¯s monstrous heads whips in my direction, frilled spines bristling with a deafening rattle. I fire. Chapter 6: Heartbreaker Encounter: Lesser River Naga Lair Location: Crystal Caves- Environmental Hazard: The effects of light based attacks and special effects are amplified due to the reflective nature of the crystals growing here. With a deafening bang blood splashes against the crystal wall behind the Naga. The shot has hit the creature at the edge of where the chest of a human would be, tearing through scales, muscle and the unfurled rattling hood extending down from its neck and back. The creature lets loose with a horrible screech and rears back, instinctively coiling its body into a defensive knot. My makeshift flash suppressor worked! The feeling of elation quickly drops to zero however when I look down to see the destroyed cloth, burnt and smoking over the edge of the barrel. Crap! No way will it work a second time. The Naga hisses, its remaining frills shaking and the cacophony of awful noise echoes through the chamber. The bright yellow eyes dart about unfocused. Strange. I¡¯ve never shot anything before, well, except for zombies in those arcade games outside the local theatre and of course my own reflection. But there isn¡¯t any panic. My hands aren¡¯t shaking. The bucking kick of recoil from the heavy pistol in my hand felt like second nature to me. I could just have easily been brushing my teeth or rolling dice. I think about reloading and taking another shot but I don¡¯t know if I have time before it recovers from the shock and pain of my initial attack. I remember the nest and reach down to grab the sword. Freeing it with a metallic ring take a step forward at the hissing monster and slash at the serpentine body with my blade, easily hitting the disoriented abomination. Though sharp, my new short sword skips over the smooth scales and with horror I see its eyes lock onto me. Time to go. I backpedal away then turn to dash backward and jump-slide over the square washing machine sized crystal block like it was the hood of the General Lee. Unlocked: General Skill: Acrobatics: Success! ¡°Ssso, sssweet meatsss wantsss play?" The Naga drops its head down low to the ground, watching for a moment as if collecting itself. It grins with a hiss, tongue tasting the air. I''m taking a step in the direction of the tunnel I initially used to gain entry to the cave and think about trying to make a run for it. No! Screw that! The thought is immediately dismissed for ¡®the stupidest decision of your life award¡¯ that it would win me. There is no way in hell that I¡¯ll be able to outswim this thing. Never mind when she inevitably catches me and I¡¯m forced to try and fight it off in a tight, underwater cave. That equals drowning, and then dead. I glance down at the blood-free blade in my hand and back to the seeping wound on the Naga. Damn, I have to use my gun, but if I don¡¯t kill it with my next shot I¡¯ll be blind, and then dead. I look around for something, anything, and see a dead rabbit and my discarded boot. An idea flashes to the forefront of my brain. I drop the sword in my hand and start to reload the pistol in that same deft practiced move I had used before. Leaping over the body of the large bunny I rush toward to my discarded footwear. My feet slide to a stop and I snatch my wet boot from the ground just as I snap closed, my now reloaded, pistol. The Naga still grinning darts forward. Moving between the crystal growths with that same unnatural speed it had displayed before it quickly closes the distance I¡¯d managed to place between us. Naga Special Move: Frightening Speed. Its strike is lightning fast but I somehow manage to twist out of the way at the last moment and its jaws clamp on empty air. My body seems to know what to do and I let it, swinging around I hold my boot open with one hand and stick my pistol barrel inside, lining up the shot with the back of the Nagas¡¯ neck.Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. ¡°Gotcha, Naga!¡± With a smile, I pull the trigger. The hammer cocks back but, instead of a satisfying bang a heart-stopping klink echoes off the walls of the cave as metal twists and jams, the hammer now bent slightly off center. With her horror show grin, the Naga looks back and my smile drops to a timid chuckle. "You makesss no boomsss now, sssweet!" It hisses and twists back on itself, looping to my left. I try and sidestep the attack like before but I misjudge her speed. In a blink, she spins around me and I feel scaled coils wrap me tight, my arms pinned down against my body. Naga Special Attack: Constricting Coils. Casual Strength to escape Grapple: Fail! "Ssseems, gotcha I hasss? Yesss?" Panic grips my chest as her head slowly rises up, snake eyes staring into my own as my feet start to leave the ground pulling me ramrod straight, my toes scraping the smooth crystal floor. Ah! There¡¯s that fear. ¡°Pretty you isss.¡± She seems to study me, her tongue dancing near my cheek. ¡°If you no hurtsss me, nasssty fun we could had, yesss?¡± It¡¯s rattling frills quiver in a strange undulation that is frightening in a whole new way as the implication clicks. ¡°Oh, uhhh... Sure!¡± Instinctively I squirm and flex a little, but the coils are wrapped tight. I could try and really push it but with those dripping fangs so close I think better of it. Casual Strength to escape Grapple: Fail! What the hell do I do now? I wrack my brain trying to think like a Player. An idea pops into my mind in a burst of trumpets and fireworks. ¡°I was... you know what? No fooling, I was thinking the exact same thing.¡± I concentrate, focusing and praying that it works. ¡°I mean I was just embarrassed to say anything cause you know... You, probably get hit on all the time and I didn¡¯t want to seem like a guy who was only interested in... that.¡± I give the monster a sly wink and what I hope is a seductive smile. Charm vs Naga: Success! ¡°We ssstill have nasssty fun then, yesss?¡± Stealth vs Naga Perception: Success! ¡°Oh yeah, Boy, wow. That would be just... just so super great.¡± My stomach churns. ¡°I¡¯ve always been into, uh... cold-blooded snake women.¡± I flash another smile, ¡°Call it a kink.¡± Charm vs Naga: Success! ¡°Isss good!" Her eyes sparkle with a wicked gleam, "Hasss nasssty fun, then eatsss tasssty bitsss.¡± Her head nods and she licks her lips and I don¡¯t know what part of that statement is more concerning. She lowers her head closer to my face, her tongue flicking over needle teeth that look like her mouth is throwing up gang signs. It tickles my cheek while her slick coils twist and roll over my torso then squeeze a little lower in a very disturbing way. I feel her deliver a series of gentle kisses along my neck and I force myself not to shudder in revulsion. ¡°But firssst, to keep pretty ssstill for nasssty.¡± Something catches on the collar of my jacket and from the corner of my eye I see her large fangs have extended. ¡°Whoa! Hey now? Is that really necess¡ªAhh! There is a burning sting as they dig into my flesh. Conditioned: Poisoned Special Effect: Paralysis ¡°Now pretty ssstay ssstiff.¡± Her frilled hood shimmy rattles. Panic begins to grip my chest as I feel the muscles in my neck and back start to constrict and lock up. It¡¯s now or never, Brian. ¡°You know? I¡¯ve never been much of a heartbreaker. Till now." I pull the trigger of my now magically mended pistol,"Suprise, Naga.¡± There is a muffled thump and wetness splashes my face from between the tightly wrapped coils. The monster stares at me for a moment eyes bulging with shock, then they roll back in the sockets. The strength in the muscular coils begins to disappear and a second later they go completely slack. The scaled loops sliding off to pile on the ground at my feet. ¡°It worked!¡± I throw my hands up in the air, ¡°I¡¯m friggin alive!¡± My skin prickles with the adrenal rush of excitement and I swear any second my jackhammer heart will pop straight out of my chest. I¡¯m feeling so good that I almost miss the flush of heat radiating in my shoulder. I let out a grunt as it throbs a second time and I reach up to pull my leather jacket and shirt away from where the Naga had bitten me. The indigo skin is an even darker shade of purple around the wound and is hot to the touch. My swollen veins pressed up like they want to burst out from under the skin. "This is not good." There is another pulse and my arm goes dead. Oh, crap! I try to take a few steps forward, unsure where I''m trying to go. The muscles in my right leg cramp thenseize completely and I topple, crashing to the ground. Breathing is getting a more difficult now. I lay there, my face on the cold wet crystal, blackness creeping into the edge of my vision. I¡¯m staring at the large body of the poor dead rabbit a few feet away as my muscles continue to tighten painfully with every second. I see the ears of what I thought was a dead bunny twitch and I can¡¯t help but smile. ¡°Least you will make it little buddy.¡± I manage to wheeze. Funny. That was the best game ever. Beside the dying that is. Chapter 7: My Experience, with a Playboy Bunny Everything is black. It should be disconcerting, but for some reason, it isn¡¯t. instead, there is an almost relaxing calmness that comes over me. I feel weightless and for a brief moment, I wonder if I¡¯m underwater again. Though I¡¯m not cold or struggling, and my breathing is...Wait! Am I breathing? I can¡¯t really tell. Oh right. I¡¯m dead. You don¡¯t need to breath when you''re dead. I don¡¯t think you need to anyway. Do you? I have no actual frame of reference or anything, just what seems right based on my extremely limited experience with crossing over into the afterlife. This is a first for me after all. But then, when did I die? Was it back in my apartment before that crazy fever dream started? Probably from blood loss. Yeah, that made sense. Some weird cobbled together memories cumulating from years of tabletop gaming. Synapses firing off their last remaining electrical impulses as my brain cells died, starved from lack of oxygen. At least I won¡¯t have to do inventory with Greta the Grendel. I almost wish I could see the reaction on her face when I don¡¯t show up and leave her there all day fuming and puffing away like a chimney. Though, I doubt that she will care about my actual death. Only that she¡¯ll need to find someone else to guilt into working crappy hours and every, single, last public holiday. Ha! Good luck, Grendel. I think about the dream, picturing how I had looked in the reflection of the cave walls. The fire I felt as my body responded in ways that would have ended me up in traction if I ever attempted them in real life.
Name: Brian Brantly REMAINING CHARACTER POINTS: 7
Race: Dark Elf Class: Gunslinger Background: Craftsman, WarGear
Stats Skills Special Abilities Complications
Inventory Quests Combat Journal
What the hell? The knowledge appears in my mind¡¯s eye, or perhaps in the blackness around me. I can¡¯t really tell. It¡¯s just... there. Wait? Character Points 7? I thought I spent all my character points when I first built the character. And then there are these other new listings. Inventory, Quests and... Combat Journal? What is that? I focus my attention on that particular section and in an instant information floods my brain. ****************** Encounter: Lesser River Naga Lair Location: Crystal Caves- Environmental Hazard: The effects of light based attacks and special effects are amplified due to the reflective nature of the crystals growing here. Combat Begins. *** Your Turn Surprise Attack! Naga¡¯s Defense is Decreased. Action: You attack Lesser River Naga with Pistol. Hit! Body: You dealt 10 Lethal and 18 Stun damage to target after Defenses. Stun damage exceeds Lesser River Naga¡¯s Vitality, Target is Stunned ! *** Naga¡¯s Turn Naga is Stunned. 0 Movement, Defense Value Lowered. *** Your Turn Fast Action: You pick up Short Sword. Action: You attack Lesser River Naga with Short Sword. Hit! Stomach: You deal 0 Lethal and 6 Stun damage to target after Defenses. Unlocked: General Skill: Acrobatics: Success! Movement. *** Naga¡¯s Turn Target is no longer stunned ! Action: Naga takes a Recovery. Naga Recovers 9 Stun. HP: 5 Stun: 15 *** Your Turn Free Action: Drop sword. Action: Reload Pistol. Movement. Fast Action: Grab Boot . *** Naga¡¯s Turn Movement. Special: Frightening Speed. Action: Naga Attacks with Bite. Miss! *** Your Turn Action: You attack Lesser River Naga with Pistol. Misfire! Gun Jam! *** Naga¡¯s Turn Action: Naga Attacks with Special Attack: Constricting Coils. Hit! You are grappled! Casual Strength to escape Grapple: Fail! Your Movement is Reduced : 0, Defense Decreased. *** Your Turn Free Action: Casual Strength to escape Grapple: Fail! Charm vs Naga: Success! Stealth vs Naga Perception: Success! Stealth Action: You cast Mend on Pistol You Spent 2 Mana, Pistol is Repaired. *** Naga¡¯s Turn Charm vs Naga: Success! Action: Naga Attacks with Bite Hit! Shoulder: You take 2 Lethal, and 2 Stun damage after Defenses.This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there. You are Poisoned. Special Effect: Paralysis Poison Damage: You take 0 Lethal, and 2 Stun damage , No Defense. *** Your Turn Action: You attack Lesser River Naga with Pistol. CRITICAL HIT! Vitals: You deal 16 Lethal and 30 Stun damage to target after Defenses. Lesser River Naga is dead! *** Poison Damage: You take 0 Lethal, and 5 Stun damage , No Defense. Poison Damage: You take 0 Lethal, and 15 Stun damage , No Defense. You are Unconscious. Poison Damage: You take 0 Lethal, and 8 Stun damage , No Defense. Poison Damage: You take 0 Lethal, and 16 Stun damage , No Defense. You are no longer Poisoned. **** Combat Ends. ****************** Was that the fight I just had with the Naga? Somehow, I know it was. Broken down into turn-based game like chunks of information. Am I still in my crazy brain dying dream? I think about taking a step back and that same initial character info block appears in my mind.
Name: Brian Brantly REMAINING CHARACTER POINTS: 7
Race: Dark Elf Class: Gunslinger Background: Craftsman, WarGear
Stats Skills Special Abilities Complications
Inventory Quests Combat Journal
This time I focus my attention on Quests and a single entry appears. ****************** Quest - In the Serpents Nest (Random Encounter) - Complete! Foes: Lesser River Naga. Reward - 4 Character Points -Bonus Exp: Special Challenge ¨C Crystal Cave Lair ¨C 1 Character Points -Bonus Exp: Clever, Life-Saving Idea! ¨C Created flash suppressor for Pistol ¨C 1 Character Points -Bonus Exp: Clever, Life-Saving Idea! ¨C Repairing Pistol with Mending ¨C 1 Character Points ****************** Holy Sea-biscuits! I am! My excitement builds to near palpable levels. I¡¯m still in the game and I have points to spend! Okay, what the heck do I do? I¡¯m just about to think back to my sort of main page Character Sheet Info when something else appears,superimposed over everything else. You are healed: 9 HP and 10 Stun damage. You are Unconscious. Racial Ability: Lightsleep. You are no longer Unconscious. The darkness and my character info disappears in a rush of returning reality. I blink but it¡¯s still dark, like there is something covering my eyes. I¡¯m laying on my side and I attempt to sit up, but my hands feel as though they are bound behind my back. Is the Naga still alive? Crap! Did she have friends? In a panic, I struggle to free myself. There is a strange squeak of alarm near my face that makes me freeze. ¡°Gosh, I didn¡¯t think you¡¯d wake up that fast.¡± It doesn¡¯t sound like that nasty hissing lisp the Naga had been talking with. The voice is definitely feminine but sounds rather mousy, and dare I say... cute? I feel something cold and pointy touch my throat. There is a quick tugging sensation and light floods my vision as the blindfold is pulled away from my face. Thankfully, it¡¯s not so bright that it hurts. I instantly recognise the soft ambient colors of the crystal cave. Still, it takes a moment to focus. ¡°Sorry I had to tie you up, but you can never be too careful..¡± I look upward toward the source of the voice and see there''s, an honest to god, playboy bunny kneeling over me. I blink again trying to clear the delirium but sure enough, there she is. Soft chestnut hair, sparkling doe brown eyes, long bunny ears and a plunging green leather corset top that spills out a very generous mound of tanned, creamy cleavage. I try not to stare, especially due to the fact that she has a nearly empty bottle of orange colored liquid in one hand, and much more concerning, my Naga-nest sword pressed to my throat with the other. I lick my lips. ¡°Did you...? Did you feed me carrot juice?¡± ¡°Oh! Well, It was a healing potion, actually.¡± She smiles but doesn¡¯t remove the blade, ¡°You seemed to be taking a long time to come around after I tied you up. So, even though you didn¡¯t seem to be really injured, I was getting a little concerned and used one of my potions. You are right though. It does have quite a bit of carrot juice in it. I add that for flavor. There¡¯s no reason that medicine should taste bad if it doesn¡¯t have to, right?¡± ¡°Um, Yeah, I guess.¡± I manage to roll onto my back a little, ¡°Thanks?¡± ¡°You are very welcome. It was no trouble really.¡± She closes her eyes and smiles down at me with a little nod. A few drops of water echo somewhere beyond the crystal columns and a rather long, and to me, uncomfortable pause draw outs in the near silence of the cave. I am thankful that she still has her eyes closed though, because my attempts at not looking down her top are failing. Badly. ¡°So, think you can untie me, Miss...?¡± Somehow I manage to turn away from the captivating cleavage. ¡°Oh, gosh, Umm... No. I''m afraid I can''t do that. See, I¡¯m not sure if you are a villanous bad guy person or not yet." She nods her head in a kind of self affirmation, "But, you can call me Cinnamon Butter.¡± ¡°Cinnamon Butter?¡± I smirk and can¡¯t help but mumble a little dig under my breath. ¡°Huh?¡± Her ears twitch down in my direction. ¡°What¡¯s a stripper name?¡± ¡°Whoa! You heard that?¡± I look up to her fluffy ears, ¡°Wait! Those things are real?¡± ¡°Why of course they are, silly.¡± She giggles cutely and wiggles her ears as if to accentuate the point, ¡°I am a Lepuri you know.¡± She says it like it explained everything. ¡°Ah. Right, of course.¡± I say. ¡°So, what¡¯s your name?¡± ¡°I''m, uhh... Brantly?¡± I clear my throat and in an attempt to sound much more debonaire than I am, slather on a healthy helping of 007 suave, ¡°Brian Brantly.¡± Charm vs Cinnamon Butter: Success! She makes a cooing sound that makes a certain region below my belt twitch. ¡°What a nice name." She smiles. "It''s so exotic.¡± Is she serious? With a grunt and roll, I manage to twist my legs under me and thump backward onto a crystal stalagmite so that I¡¯m sitting upright. She backs off a little with the blade but doesn¡¯t drop it completely. Cinnamon stands and somehow the view just gets better. Judging by the toned, muscled calves and thighs she is a runner. Her long legs encased in a pair of pants that are little more than strips of leather wrapping down to just below her knees, leaving her calves and feet bare. I take a peak at her tiny tootsies and notice that she only has four toes on each delicate foot. Taking my time my eyes continue the journey back upward. About a waist that looks to be the perfect size to wrap a pair of hands around, is a looping belt of assorted bottles on dangling straps, most filled with colorful liquids. A couple of pouches, and at least one sheathed dagger sits on a curvy hip. Careful to not to seem like a total creep I glance around the cave then back to the fantasy playboy bunny girl, making sure to look at her face and not her assets. ¡°So, Cinnamon. How did you get in here?¡± ¡°Humm, I¡¯m not really too sure. I was making my way toward Redtree but then that nasty Naga dropped out nowhere and attacked me.¡± She turns to points to the serpentine body with the sword. Before she turns back to me I spy the cutest little twitching bunny tail, just above an even cuter bubble like rump. ¡°She bit me, then I woke up in this cave.¡± Damn, I must have rolled a critical fail on my perception check to mistake her for an actual rabbit. I may have to see about dropping some points into that or something. ¡°Did you kill it, Brian Brantly?¡± ¡°Just Brian is fine. And yeah that was me.¡± I can¡¯t help but puff out my chest a little. The way she addressed me makes me pause. ¡°So, do I call you Cinnamon? Or Butter? Or is it Cinnamon Butter like you¡¯re some kind of MLP character?¡± ¡°Oh, I don¡¯t mind.¡± She pushes a little hair back from the side of her face, "Any of those will do, Brian." Wait! Is she blushing? The way she said my name. I''ve heard that same upward inflection before. Never directed at me of course, but definately when a group of giggling frat girls were hanging around Handsome Hank and his panty dropping corvette. I decide to test the waters a little. ¡°You know, Cinnamon,¡± I huff in agitation and shake my head, ¡°You gave that Naga every reason to want to bite you.¡± She looks at me with shock and what apears to be a bit of hurt in her eyes. ¡°You¡¯re just too sweet.¡± I smile and give her what I hope is a playful wink. Charm vs Cinnamon Butter: Success! She lets out that little coo giggle and I almost explode. Hot Damn! Is this what all those Jersey Bachelor, Big Shore Brother meatheads feel like all the time? Here was one of, if not, the hottest girl I¡¯ve ever seen blushing and giggling at me because I smiled and I threw out a ridiculously cheesy line or two. Alright take it easy, Brian. Remember, with great power... I keep up the smile and chuckle along with her. Play it cool, Brian. Play it cool. And don''t forget, she has a sword pointed toward your throat! ¡°Listen, Cinni. I totally get it. You don¡¯t know me from Adam--¡± ¡°Who¡¯s Adam? ¡°Huh? ¡°Is he around here too?¡± She says and glances around nervously. ¡°What? No, it¡¯s a figure of speech.¡± I shake my head, ¡°Nevermind. That¡¯s not important, all I¡¯m saying is I¡¯m a good guy. Tell you what. Why don''t you untie me but you can keep holding onto that sword there. Okay?¡± ¡°What about your gun?¡± The question takes me back for a moment. ¡°You know what a gun is?¡± ¡°Uhh, yeah. I¡¯m not some backwoods hillbunny, you know.¡± She gives a little humph and an indignant attitude that I recognize all too well. Save the anthropomorphic features I guess women of this world weren¡¯t so different from those from mine. ¡°Oh! Hey, no! Not at all. Sorry if I offended you. Totally didn¡¯t mean to imply any sort of insult. See, it''s just that I¡¯m a long way from home and I wasn¡¯t sure if you had guns here too." ¡°Where are you from?¡± ¡°A place called, Suckville, USA.¡± I snort with more than a bit of bitterness. ¡°That''s a weird name. Are there a lot of Vampires there or something?" ¡°No, Cinni.¡± I can¡¯t help but laugh at her too cute naivet¨¦, ¡°Well, you know. In a manner of speaking, yeah. I know quite a few that take extreame pleasure in sucking every bit of joy out of life.¡± "Gosh, that sounds awful." She pouts and gives me a sad expression and her ears droop slightly, "Is that why you left?" "I''m still working that part out actually." She gives me a confused look and I just shrug my shoulders in her direction to indicate my bound hands. ¡°C¡¯mon? What do you say?" ¡°Humm? You did kill the bad beastie that was probably gonna eat me.¡± She glances back to the Naga corpse and her bunny tail gives an adorable little double twitch that makes me want to bite it. "Okay! I guess you aren¡¯t a bad guy.¡± With a little hop she comes over, reaches behind my back and I feel the sword slice away my bonds. Chapter 8: Loot and Plunder ¡°Want me to push harder?¡± A dribble of sweat trickles down to sting my eye as I look into the face of the gorgeous bunny girl. ¡°No! That¡¯s perfect. Don¡¯t stop, just a bit more.¡± Cinnamon grunts then bites her lip in concentration, ¡°Be careful. Don¡¯t let it slip out.¡± ¡°Okay but...Whoa! Watch your fingers it¡¯s a really tight fit.¡± ¡°Well we want to make sure we get every last drop in there, don¡¯t we?¡± ¡°Definitely.¡± I say with a grin. ¡°And .. Ahhh, yeah! That¡¯s it!¡± Cinnamon squeals with delight and I feel a gush followed by a sound of liquid splashing into the glass bottle crammed into the Nagas¡¯ mouth. I give a few more gentle presses on the poison gland and am rewarded with a final couple of healthy squirts. ¡°I think it¡¯s empty.¡± I say. ¡°Looks like.¡± Cinnamon removes her hands from between the jaws careful not to prick herself on the last large fang that we haven¡¯t yet removed. ¡°Good job, Cinni.¡± I stand up and move over to the water tunnel and wash my hands and arms free from the blood and saliva. She giggles in that cute way of hers before moving over to place a now full bottle of poison with the pile of goods that we¡¯ve collected from the nest and the Naga corpse over the past few hours or so. We haven¡¯t talked as much as I¡¯d have liked. Well, not to get to know each other anyway. We both thought it best to do a thorough search of the cave before we try to leave. And so our time has been spent mostly calling out what odds and ends we have discovered in our poking through the cavern, and the various techniques for harvesting any useful bits from the Naga. Apparently the Survival skill I picked up in character creation is useful for more than just making campfires and pitching tents. Something that is becoming increasingly hard not to do as Cinnamon gets more comfortable around me. Especially with the touches on my shoulder or back as she helped me pull out some of the half buried loot. ¡°I guess that¡¯s the last of it.¡± Flicking water off my now clean arms I move over to stand with Cinnamon at the pile, ¡°Should we go through it all and divide it up then?¡± ¡°Yup, I don¡¯t think we¡¯re going to find much else.¡± I nod and look over the pile. We managed to pick through all the bones and scrounged up eighteen gold pieces, thirty-two silver pieces and a pile of seventy four copper. Luckily some were still in pouches so we divide them up evenly between the two of us first. Next are the few gems. I take an emerald while Cinnamon takes the two rubies. There is a backpack with a few water stains but otherwise undamaged. A suit of dark brown studded leather armor that¡¯s a bit stiff. The sword, now laid out on the ground. Two daggers, one looks to be unsalvageable, though it did have a moonstone set in the pommel that I pop out for myself. The other dagger is in great condition though, the blade still sharp as a razor, and was what I used to slice off the hide of the Naga earlier. ¡°Cinnamon, do you mind if I keep this?¡± I hold up the blade by the tip then reach over to pat the dagger on her hip. More to see if she objects to my touch than to point out the fact that she already has one. She glances down to her side. Nervousness that I may have overstepped immediately gets the best of me. ¡°You know? Seeing as you have a dagger already.¡± ¡°Sure,¡± She smiles, ¡°I don¡¯t mind.¡± I kick myself for chickening out like that and kneel down. This body may be super-hot eye candy for the ladies but it seems that I¡¯m still the same insecure doof inside. I turn my attention toward a pile of arrows trying not to think about the many previous failed attempts at flirting in my life. There is a dozen or so arrows, with two of them looking rather out of place from the others. Arrow: Mundane: Ammo: x11 Damage: 1-6 Lethal Arrow: Magical: Ammo: x2 Huh? As I study them I get that strange rush of knowledge similar to when I was looking over my character info before. There were other times that I recall now too. Like when I was fighting the Naga. A strange understanding of how, for lack of any better term, the mechanics of this world worked. Was this happening when I was talking to Cinnamon before? Was my ''character'' making various social or awareness rolls without me even realizing it? Unlocked: General Skill: Deduction: Success! That would make total sense. I want to ponder on it further but the need to find out more about the loots pushes the thoughts to the back of my mind. Besides, I think I''m starting to get the hang of it. My attention is drawn toward the two arrows that stand apart from the others. One is a painted yellow and orange with fletching dyed a bright red. Firestorm Arrow: Damage: 1-6 Lethal Magical: This arrow explodes in a ball of flame upon impact dealing an additional Damage: 3-18 Lethal, Fire to the target and Damage: 2-12 Lethal, Fire to everything in a 5ft radius. Damage: 1-6 Lethal, Fire to everything in a 10ft radius. The second appears to be made from a sharpened length of polished steel, ringed with glittering blue runes etched along its length. Arrow of Accuracy: Damage: 1-6 Lethal Magical: This highly accurate arrow bestows a +5 to Attack Value and 2-8 to Damage Lethal. It is still a weird feeling. I can almost see the rules breakdown for the equipment but I don''t remember any sort of prompts during the fight, though I know by that summery review of my character sheet that I was indeed making them. Armed with that knowledge I''m now positive that I had to do the same during my earlier interactions with Cinnamon. The ol meta-gamer in me wishes I could see or hear the prompts and the result on whether I passed or more importantly, failed. But then again, that always did sort of break game emersion. Whenever a Game Master would ask for players to roll persuasion or perception or similar everyone would immediatedly start acting out of character. Becomming suspicious of everyone, pouring over the most inconsequential detail, every other player suddenly wanting to make the same roll too, in case the first player failed. All of it slowing the game to a crawl. And how many times was I tipped off by knowing I had to make a roll to notice a trap or a hidden enemy ambush? Then there was the time that the barkeep was secretly a cannibalistic cult leader... Damn. Now I really, REALLY wish I could see the prompts. I shake off the memorys of that particular nightmare inducing Halloween night horror game and scour over the rest of the gear we recovered Lesser Naga Venom:Paralytic venom of a Lesser River Naga. Injury Poison: A creature must take Lethal damage from a weapon or object coated with Injury poison to be exposed to its effects. Doses: x2 Effect: Paralysis. Damage: 3-18 Stun for 5 rounds. Defense: Poison Immunity. Lesser River Naga Hide: The scaled hide of a Lesser River Naga. Units: x1. Armor: 3 Physical / 2 Energy. Enchantment Property: SwiftSupport the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more. Snake Meat: Servings: x12 Wing Blade: Magical Shortsword: Melee / +1 Attack Value / Equipped Damage: 2-8 Lethal. Magical: Wielder may use their Re-Action to negate damage from falls in 15 ft increments. (Mana cost: 5) The sword is magical? Awesome. It does seem like a pretty high mana cost for its special ability. Though, taking no damage from a thirty foot fall is pretty damn cool. With a shudder I recall a fall off a chair when I¡¯d been changing a light bulb in the break room. And the embarrassing following minutes, that had been spent in near tears when the wind had been knocked out of me, wheezing for breath in front of my snickering coworkers. I take out my pistol with a deft spin and study it. Rusty Pistol: Mundane: Ranged / Shots: 1 / Misfire: 20% / Equipped Damage: 1-10 Lethal. I let out an outward groan at the misfire chance. One out of every five shots? And in a fight it takes awhile to reload too. Man, this thing sucks! Though the damage potential does seem to be pretty good. After all it did save my life and was the only thing that actually hurt the Naga. Still it deserves another tisk of disapproval when I look at its piss poor condition. ¡°Is something wrong?¡± Cinnamons ears twitch. ¡°Ah, it¡¯s nothing. Just my pistol here definitely needs some work.¡± ¡°It does look like it''s seen better days.¡± Cinnamon leans over next to me and places a hand on my bare shoulder, which immediately sends my libido into overdrive. I¡¯d removed my jacket, shirt and boots and tossed over them over the edge of a crystal growth when we had started working. First, because they were soaking wet and would probably start to chafe. And second, which was really the more important reasoning for the decision, I wanted to see if my glistening, half dressed underwear model body would get a reaction out of Cinnamon. Though, I might have pushed it with the slow ringing out of my shit. ¡°You might be able to find a new one in Redtree. Is that where you were headed too?¡± ¡°No, actually. I guess I got a bit lost while I was traveling.¡± I return my ugly looking weapon to its holster. ¡°You mentioned that name before. Is it a town near here?¡± ¡°Yup!¡± She gives a little pause. Unlocked: General Skill: Insight vs Cinnamon Butter: Success! The corner of my eye catches the double twitch of her bunny tail and I sense a little nervousness in her demeanor. ¡°Umm. Did you want to come along with me? We could travel there together.¡± ¡°Cinni. I would love to.¡± I say with a smile. Play it cool, Brian. ¡°Great!¡± She coo giggles then gives me that weird closed eye smile. I wonder if it¡¯s some racial or cultural thing. Either way, it''s hella cute! ¡°So,¡± Cinnamon eyes pop open and she leans forward to scoop up the arrows, ¡°Did you want these?¡± ¡°Why? Can you use them?¡± I don¡¯t actually know if I can even use a bow or not but not like it matters much at the moment. ¡°Sure can.¡± Cinnamon grins widely, ¡°That is, if I can find my stuff. I¡¯d set most of it down and had been taking a quick break from walking. You know, cooling my feet in a creek,¡± she wiggles her little four toed foot in my direction, ¡°when that icky Naga ambushed me.¡± ¡°Tell you what. You can have the arrows, if I can have the sword?¡± ¡°Awww, but you said I could hold onto it.¡± Cinnamon pouts a bit. I laugh and almost concede to her immediately but, even the facing the overwhelming odds of a pouting, buxom doe eyed playboy bunny, somehow I manage to stick to my guns, ¡°That was only in case I was a ¡®villainous bad guy person,¡¯ remember?¡± I smile and give her a set of air quotes,¡°As I am clearly not and you are getting all those arrows with two of them being magical...¡± Unlocked: General Skill: Trading vs Cinnamon Butter: Success! ¡°Fine, you meany.¡± She continues her little pout but wraps up the bundle with a strip of cloth and places them into a recovered bag. Victory is mine. With a grin I collect my sword and loop the scabbards for it and also my dagger onto my hip. I give the dagger a look over too. Dagger: Mundane: Melee / Can be Thrown / Equipped Damage: 1-5 Lethal. Not too bad. Seems to be pretty close to the damage of the sword, and it can be thrown so that¡¯s a plus. Beside you never know when a hold out dagger will come in handy. There are only a few items left in the pile now. The backpack, armor, Naga venom filled bottle, the Naga hide and the meat. Adventurer¡¯s Backpack: Mundane: This item can be used to pull forth 5 mundane pieces of adventuring gear. The items retrieved cannot have a value of more than 5 gold. Once an item is called forth from the pack it remains. Contents: 50ft Hemp Rope, Grappling Hook, Handsaw. Uses Remaining: x2 That¡¯s weird. This isn¡¯t a magical item? I poke about in the bag for a moment and sure enough it has Rope, a grappling hook and a handsaw along with all sorts of other items, but for some reason I can¡¯t seem to focus on any of them. I¡¯m tempted to try pulling out something to test the ability but I don¡¯t want to waste it. It almost seems like this is a storytelling item. When a Game Master doesn¡¯t want to be bothered with the players keeping track of niggly bits of bookkeeping. Like how many fish hooks, candles, lumps of soap or bits of chalk the players are humping around with. ¡°Mind if I take the Naga Venom?¡± Cinnamon plucks up the bottle and swirls it in her hand. ¡°You did do most of the work milking it. I had no idea how to after all. All I know how to do is skin and dress something for eating.¡± My gamer instincts kick in and I glance over to her, ¡°Where did you learn how to do that anyway, Cinnamon?¡± Insight vs Cinnamon Butter: Fail! ¡°My pop-pop taught me.¡± Her ears give a little twitch, ¡° He knew all kinds of things about plants and animals. What could be used as ingredients in potions or how to mix salves and elixirs. I¡¯m nowhere near as good as pop-pop, but I know a little bit.¡± She pushes her hip out and jangles the bottles hanging there with a little shake. ¡°Well it looks to me like he was a good teacher.¡± I smirk. It feels like she isn¡¯t telling me something but I dismiss it as I watch the booty shake. I take a second and concentrate on the bottles to see if I get any information, but nothing pops up in my mind¡¯s eye. Perhaps it has to be not owned or equipped for it to work. ¡°Brian?¡± Looking up I realize that I¡¯ve been staring at her hips and I get a bit embarrassed at being caught gawking, even if I didn¡¯t mean it in that way. ¡°Sure, it was your bottle anyway.¡± With a sheepish grin I thumb toward the pile, ¡°Do you mind me taking the backpack?¡± ¡°Nope, and you can have that yucky meat and stuff too.¡± She sticks out her tongue and points to a stack consisting of the bloody Naga hide, the few teeth that we didn¡¯t break to make it safer to milk out the poison, the rattle frills and large chunks of snake meat. ¡°Okay. I guess the only thing left is the armor then.¡± Scruffy (DAMAGED) Studded Leather: Full Body:Armor: 2 Physical / 1 Energy. -2 to Dex. Skills. -1 to Defense Value. I check it out then compare it to what I had before. Worn Leather Jacket: Torso / Arms: Armor: 1 Physical / 0 Energy. Soft Leather Riding Boots: Lower Legs / Feet:Armor: 1 Physical / 1 Energy. Eesh! I didn''t have much protection before. I¡¯m suddenly even happier that the Naga never actually hit me with one of its attacks. Nothing even triggers for my pants and shirt. Looks like they don¡¯t offer anything ability wise. Still the armor does have penalties to Dex skills and Defense Value. Maybe because its worn out and damaged? Given a bit of time I could probably repair it. ¡°I don¡¯t think it will fit me." Cinnamon gives a glance to the worn out looking suit and then at my still drying clothes. "If you take it would you mind if I used your old jacket and boots?¡± ¡°Yeah? You would be good with that?¡± ¡°Yup, yup.¡± She nods. ¡°Thanks, Cinni. You¡¯re a gem.¡± With a smile I walk over to my jacket, making sure to stop and pose-wring out my slightly damp shirt for good measure. Cinnamon, meanwhile, has already skipped over to my boots and leaning on the crystal block, pulls them on. I don¡¯t know if my antics had any effect on her, but watching a bunny girl centerfold tug on a pair of over the knee thigh highs must definitely be my kryptonite. I can feel my stupid grin but can¡¯t seem to help it as I step forward to assist her dressing by placing the jacket on her. She flips her long hair over the collar and her hotness jumps up another few points. ¡°Thanks Brian.¡± Cinnamon moves over to the reflective wall and turns left and right. ¡°Damn. You look amazing.¡± ¡°Yeah, you really think so?¡± ¡°Either that or something''s wrong with my eyes,¡± I give her a sly smile, ¡°because I can''t take them off you." ¡°Now you¡¯re the one that¡¯s going to be Naga nibbles for being too sweet.¡± She giggle coos then spins around. ¡°Well, you better get yourself ready too so that we can go find my stuff. It shouldn¡¯t be too far from here. I don¡¯t think.¡± ¡°Good idea.¡± I say. Just like being able to shoot and knowing how to field dress a gigantic snake I put on the armor like its second nature. Though it does take me a few minutes, and a few more to stuff everything else into my backpack. I¡¯m just about to tell Cinnamon that I¡¯m ready to head out when I get an idea. With a final poke around I scrounge and fill up a couple tattered pouches with colored and glowing crystals of various lengths and sizes. After they are secured in the backpack with everything else I head over to the water filled tunnel were Cinnamon is waiting. ¡°Sucks that we are gonna have to go into the water again. I''m not looking forward to walking around in soaking wet clothes.¡± I kneel down and drop to my waist the cold water. The sudden shock nearly steals my breath and I have to force my teeth together to keep them from chattering. ¡°That¡¯s true.¡± Cinnamons little tail double twitches and a blush tinges her cheeks. ¡°I guess we will just have to take them off and let them dry overnight while we make camp.¡± ¡°Yeah. Good idea, Cinni.¡± With that picture in my head I suddenly don¡¯t mind the cold water. Chapter 9: Camping with a Cutie I pour what seems like a gallon of water out of my new leather boot then slip it back on, once again marveling that it¡¯s my size. Strange how in games looted gear always seems to fit. If only it was the same in the real world. My previous small but wide feet always made for difficult shoe shopping. Only when a few drops of water splash my face and a sweet sounding ¡°Brian?¡± tickles my ears and do I realize that Cinnamon has been chatting away to me while I¡¯ve been lost in my own thoughts. I glance over with a ¡°Pardon?¡± ¡°Gosh, you were really daydreaming there, huh?¡± She squeezes out a bit of water from her back length hair. ¡°Copper for your thoughts?¡± ¡°Yeah, sorry. I was just thinking about... Never mind, it doesn¡¯t matter.¡± I shake my head. We have been sitting and wringing out our clothes and emptying both bags and our boots of water at the edge of the pool I¡¯d arrived in. After swimming through the cave tunnel I had tried diving down to the pool floor simply to double check if there was a pitch black tunnel of oily ether stretching between worlds, but I only found smooth water polished rocks and a few handful of weeds that squished between my fingers like jello. I¡¯d pocketed a couple of the rocks, but washed off the disgusting river weed slime. ¡°What were you saying, Cinni?¡± I ask while emptying my other boot of its contents. ¡°Oh yes, well I was just going to go and get a better look from up on the ridge.¡± She turns and points up to where the waterfall crests the rock cliff. ¡°Okay, sure.¡± I look up to where she is pointing and try and work out a safe way up and around. The twin waterfalls made the rocks below it way to slick and dangerous looking to attempt a climb, so I study the rough cut cliff banks which disappear into the surrounding forest on either side of the pool. On the left I spot a series of broken boulders and stone that must have tumbled free some hundred or so years ago. It might take a little effort but the piled rocks should allow us enough ledges and handholds to climb up to the top of the precipice. ¡°Hey, Cinnamon? If we head over that way, I think-- ¡± Cinnamon Butter uses Special Ability: Lepus Super Jump My jaw drops as Cinnamon dashes forward with a couple of short hops then launches into the air toward the cliff, in-between the twin sheets of water. Her feet touch slick stone a good thirty feet up the wall and she bounces off again, twisting like an aerial acrobat to land on the same rocky outcropping the lizard like monster had leapt too. The thought of that creature immediately breaks me out of the stunned shock of watching a beautiful bunny girl parkour forty feet up the wall like a comic book superhero. ¡°Cinni, be careful! That¡¯s where I saw that thing I told you about.¡± Her ears twitch in my direction and then toward the surrounding forest. ¡°It¡¯s okay. I don¡¯t see or hear anything.¡± She gives me a wave then turns pointing downriver. ¡°But I do see where that nasty Naga ambushed me. It¡¯s not far.¡± I grab my knapsack from the ground while Cinnamon hops down the wall in a similar fashion to what she used to scale it. The second display is enough to make my guts squirm in envy and I can¡¯t help but wonder if I could somehow gain the same ability. ¡°That was awesome.¡± I grin. ¡°Well, it¡¯s not that impressive. There is a big rock formation I had stopped at next to the creek. So it was pretty easy to spot.¡± ¡°No, No. I mean the way you jumped up there. How did you do that?¡± ¡°I¡¯m Lepuri, silly.¡± Cinnamon looks at me and smiles, her long ears twitching. ¡°Remember?¡± ¡°Can you teach me?¡± ¡°I might be able to show you some moves, I guess. But you won¡¯t be able to jump like me. Not unless you have some bunny in you.¡± She giggle coos. I¡¯d rather put some Drow in you! You delicious little... I have to literally shake the naughty thoughts from my head as she slides past me and starts to head in the direction she¡¯d pointed to from the top of the ridge. Hopping around the water¡¯s edge. Only a few feet from the banks of the rippling pool the trees grow tightly-knit, their boughs tangling into one another to form a dense cover painted in lush shades of green. It was almost too beautiful. As if I was viewing my surroundings on a color corrected, hi-definition screen. I take in a deep breath, marveling at the sweet scents of earth and water before making to follow Cinnamon. We trek along, following the river a short distance before veering off through the trees. As I gaze around the forest I notice the sky is getting dark with the setting sun, giving it a red tinge between the branches of the treetop canopy. I find that to be great for me though, since my eyes don¡¯t sting nearly as much within the long shadows of growing dusk. The dim light doesn¡¯t seem to bother Cinnamon much either, though our wet clothes and the growing chill in the air does make for an uncomfortable walk. Like me, I notice her shiver more than once. ¡°There it is!¡± Cinnamon exclaims pointing to then jogging over toward a moss covered boulder with a backpack, quiver of arrows and a rather nice looking shortbow leaning against it. She lets out an audible sigh as she kneels next to her stuff and looks it over. ¡°Is everything here?¡± I ask. ¡°Yup.¡± She grins moving over to the creek at the boulders edge and recovers a pair of boots from the base of a large tree. A breeze makes the tree branches quiver and we both let out a brrr at the sudden cold air.Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel. ¡°Think that we should just camp here for the night instead of trying to find another spot?¡± She asks stepping closer and away from the creek. ¡°Maybe.¡± I glance back in the direction we had walked. There was still that weird creature out there but setting up a campfire and getting out of our wet clothes was too appealing to resist. ¡°Yeah. I¡¯ll gather up some wood for a fire.¡± By the time I return from scouring the immediate area for broken logs and wood Cinnamon has already pulled out a bedroll and placed a ring of stones together. She tosses me a flint and steel and I can¡¯t help but grin while holding the essential adventuring kit item in my hand. A few minutes after that we have a warm blaze going and she dips into her backpack again. ¡°I hope you are hungry.¡± She smiles and holds out a cloth wrapped package. My stomach immediately growls at the thought of food. ¡°Girl, you are a life saver, I¡¯m absolutely starving.¡± I smile and lean forward on the large log that I¡¯ve pushed a little closer to the fire to take the offered bundle. Unwrapping it I find a massive sandwich hidden inside. The bread is a thick crusted roll speckled with what looks like oats and I pry it open to get a look of what kind of sandwich it is. My stomach does another growl as I flip through the layers and layers of lettuce, carrots, raw string beans, radishes and other vegetables while searching for the meat. ¡°Mumm, this looks delicious.¡± I lie. Unlocked: General Skill: Acting vs Cinnamon Butter: Success! ¡°Thanks! I make them myself.¡± Cinnamon gives me her closed eye smile and bites into her own chlorophyll quarter pounder. ¡°And I have some dried nuts and berries we can have for desert too.¡± ¡°Oh? Yummy.¡± I bite into my sprout sandwich chewing it like a cow before choking it down. Yuck. Cinnamon takes a few more bites then places hers in her lap and pokes about in her pack again. ¡°Now that we have a fire going we should probably try and dry our clothes.¡± She says. ¡°Yes! Good idea!¡± My thoughts regarding food quickly switches to the satiation of another form of hunger. Maybe you can use your rope and hook to make a clothesline between the tree branches here?¡± She motions to the overhanging boughs. I nod and after another bite of my vegetable medley jump into action. Soon the makeshift clothesline is hung and I¡¯m stripping off my armor and shirt and tossing whatever I can over the rope. I glance back and see that Cinnamon has retreated behind a tree. One hand appears holding a bundle of wet clothes and I hold my breath as she moves around and into view. She steps out into the growing moonlight and I stifle a groan when I see her wearing a new set of dry clothes and holding a large blanket in her other hand. She pauses, a blush flushing her cheeks as she looks at me standing there in only my trousers. ¡°Here you go.¡± She hands me the blanket and tosses her own damp clothing over the line. ¡°Thanks.¡± I accept the blanket and wrap it around my shoulders. With my heart thumping loudly in my chest I pause then pull off my pants under the cover of the warm blanket and toss them over the line, praying those long sensitive ears of hers can¡¯t pick up the increased nervous beat. Cinnamon retreats to sit on her bedroll and fishes around in her bag for her pouch of dried nuts and berries. She fills a battered tin cup with water from a leather waterskin and offers them all to me with a smile. I accept the cup and a handful of trail mix then return to my log. Now that I¡¯m out of my wet clothes the warmth of the fire combined with the soft wool blanket feels divine. ¡°So how far is it to this RedTree place?¡± I ask. ¡°Oh, not far. Maybe a day if we make good time tomorrow.¡± Cinnamon unbundles the tattered pouches from the Naga nest. She takes the arrows we recovered there and stuffs them in her quiver. ¡°If we keep following the river we should come to the Twinwater Bridge sometime in the afternoon. After that its only a couple more hours walking.¡± ¡°So you have been there before?¡± I crunch away on a combo of my sandwich and so called dessert, washing it all down with gulps of water. ¡°Uh huh¡± She nods, ¡°Not for awhile, but it¡¯s a pretty big town and they have an airship port there too. I think they only stop by maybe every fortnight. So it¡¯s not super busy, but you can usually book passage. That is if you have the coin to do so of course.¡± Crap! That¡¯s right! I¡¯m going to need money. ¡°Hey Cinni? Uhh.¡± How much does a night in an inn or like a meal usually run? ¡°An inn? Gosh.¡± She shrugs, ¡°It varies. I suppose it''s pretty much comparable to most towns. So, I''d say between two to ten gold depending where you stay. A cooked meal, I figure you can usually get a fairly decent one for around three or four silver or so. I can''t say for certain, I usually just go and get yummy fresh veggies at the market stalls.¡± She shoots me her eye closed smile and nibbles her sandwich. Double crap! I glance to my pile of stuff next to my feet and the coin pouch resting on top of my gun belt. All I have is the few coins that we got back in that cave and that¡¯ll only be enough for few days worth of food and lodging. The very real threat of being homeless and destitute in a strange world tightens my throat with worry. ¡°Brian? Are you okay?¡± Cinnamons cocks her head in my direction a concerned expression crinkling her brow. ¡°You don¡¯t look very good. Umm, no... Well, I what mean is, you look like you might throw-up.¡± ¡°Huh? Yeah, actually I don¡¯t feel so well.¡± ¡°Did you...¡± Cinnamon pouts a little, ¡°not like the sandwich?¡± ¡°Oh no. It was great.¡± I try and give her a reassuring smile, ¡°Probably that bite that Naga gave me, just has me feeling a little under the weather is all.¡± Acting vs Cinnamon Butter: Success! ¡°Awww, you poor thing. Venoms like that can last for awhile in your body. We probably pushed you to hard with all the activity too.¡± Cinnamon stands and motions to the bedroll. ¡°Here, why don¡¯t you get some rest. I¡¯ll take the first watch. I¡¯m sure after you get a little sleep you will feel a lot better.¡± ¡°Thanks, Cinni I appreciate it.¡± I do feel tired, my muscles ache and concern has my stomach tied in knots. Though the near half pound of roughage sitting in there like a brick certain isn¡¯t helping. ¡°You are very welcome, Brian. Besides, your eyes are probably much better than mine in the early hours of the morning anyway.¡± ¡°Those pretty peepers? I doubt it.¡± I shoot her a smile, and I get a little blush out of her. ¡°You don¡¯t need to let me sleep too long.¡± I recall from my character sheet, and my knowledge from years of gaming and fantasy novels, that Drow, just like most elves, don¡¯t need much rest. ¡°Could you wake me up in say four hours or so?¡± ¡°Sure.¡± Cinnamon says. With a nod and a yawn I get up from my log and make for the bedroll. A moment later I hear a coo giggle and realize that I may have inadvertently given Cinnamon a naked butt in the moonbeam shot as I drop my blanket and snuggle down. I don¡¯t dwell on it. Now that I¡¯ve committed myself to getting some rest it feels like all the aches and stress from the day is pressing down on my body like I¡¯m trying to bench-press a eighteen wheeler loaded with elephants. Elves usually enter a sort of meditative state in most game systems that I¡¯ve played and I wonder just how I¡¯m supposed to slip into it. I have listened to a few YouTube relaxation techniques to battle depression and the resulting insomnia. Maybe that will help. I try try to recall how they begin. Usually they tend to focus on deep breaths and telling yourself to relax. Fat chance of that happening. With all the tension cramping my shoulders I''ll probably be tossing all night. With a heavy sigh I close my eyes. I lay there for what can be no more than ten seconds when I realize I¡¯m in that same black void I was in when I fell unconscious back in the cave. You are Resting. Huh? Okay, well, that was easy. Chapter 10: Gaming the System. The last time this happened I was able to access my Character Information. I focus and...
Name: Brian Brantly REMAINING CHARACTER POINTS: 7
Race: Dark Elf Class: Gunslinger Background: Craftsman, WarGear
Stats Skills Special Abilities Complications
Inventory Quests Combat Journal
Yes! I try and contain the growing excitement lest I go and pop myself out of this Jedi-Elf (Jelf?) sleep trance meditation thing. Okay then. Now I think I see how this works. Sleeping will allow me to access my stats and spend my points. It''s almost like the time between gaming sessions when you can mull over what you want your next level to be. Or maybe not. It''s probably more accurate to think of it as taking a bit of downtime to ''level up''. You need a quiet moment to rest and reflect before you gain the benefits of your accumulated EXP. I''ve seen plenty of systems and even Gamemaster Houserules that require players to do that. Though this doesn''t seem to be a straight ''Level One to whatever'' system either. Which is fine by me. I have always prefered gradual character progression as opposed to the widely popular stepped level systems anyway. "Oh you gained a level? Now you have four more spells, can summon a giant goat twice a day, and select that feature in that obscure supliment that compounds with that other one to break the game, you munchkin. And remember to roll those extra hit points where you can suddenly get shot point blank in the face with a crossbow while asleep and laugh it off because a crossbow only does at max ten damage and you have three hundred Hit Points at level..." Memories of debating the pros and cons of game mechanics and rule design in the backroom of the old Imagination Station game store derail my train of though. I chastise myself with a mental suck of my teeth then focus my attention back to more important matters. Looking over the summary menu I remember feeling like I had triggered some new skills before, so I focus on opening up the Skills section first. Gunslinger:
+1 Attack Value ¨C Weapon Group (Pistols) cost to raise 3pt
Explosives 13- > cost to raise 2pt
Gunsmith 13- > cost to raise 2pt
Weaponsmith 13- > cost to raise 2pt
Riding 13- > cost to raise 2pt
Stealth 13- > cost to raise 2pt
Sleight of Hand 13- > cost to raise 2pt
Survival 13- > cost to raise 2pt
Streetwise 13- > cost to raise 2pt
Charm 14- > cost to raise 2pt
Craftsman, Mecha/WarGear:
Inventor 13- > cost to raise 2pt
Metal Fabrication 13- > cost to raise 2pt
WarGearsmith 13- > cost to raise 2pt
Airship tech 13- > cost to raise 2pt
Golem tech 13- > cost to raise 2pt
Magitech 13- > cost to raise 2pt
WarGear Rider 13- > cost to raise 2pt
Unlocked Skills, General:
Acrobatics 8- cost to purchase 1pt
Insight 8- cost to purchase 1pt
Trading 8- cost to purchase 1pt
Deduction 8- cost to purchase 1pt
Acting 8- cost to purchase 1pt
??? LOCKED
??? LOCKED
Cool! I did unlock some new skills. The LOCKED section seems to just continue on infinitely till they blur out of my focus so I turn my attention to the others. Humm? I may have gained some new skills but only at an eight or less. I don¡¯t think those are very good odds. Maybe around 45% if this is using a 3d6 system like I think it is. And that¡¯s not counting for any environmental factors or penalties that may be applied. And these new ¡°unlocked¡± skills don¡¯t have any raise cost either. So that means I must have to purchase them before I can increase them. Jeez! I mean, I''d probably like it if I was at the table but, man! Talk about point sinks. Alright, Acrobatics is most likely a Dexterity-based skill. I wonder if I purchase it will I get the same Dex boost that my other skills like Sleight of Hand or Stealth get? And the better question, can I really go and risk the Character Points to test the theory? I only have seven. If I drop even one on a new skill I could miss out on something else really cool, and/or potentially lifesaving, somewhere else. Man, this was a lot easier when it was pen and paper and make-believe. Then again. It could still be, I really could just be in a coma in a hospital. Or more likely staring at the padded walls of my cell after having a psychotic break brought on by depression and second-hand smoke. Greta the Grendel! Did she give me like, a cancerous brain embolism or something from exposure to her frigging choo-choo chain smoking nastiness? Damn it, Brian! I need to stop thinking along those lines, treating this like it¡¯s some kind of daydream that I might wake up from. I need to figure out how this system works so I don¡¯t screw up. I¡¯m playing with my life now. Whatever this is, as improbable as it seems, I have to, literally, get my goddamn head in the game. I return my focus toward my Special Abilities and a new menu opens.
Special Abilities, OWNED Special Abilities, UNLOCKED
I decide to double check my OWNED first to familiarize myself with what I can do. *********************** Heroic Ability Danger Sense: 14 - ¨C lvl 1¨C (Passive) A character with this Ability has a sixth sense about danger. A successful Danger Sense check prevents him from being surprised in combat. Dark Elf, Racials: Darkvision (Dark Elf): You can see in (non-magical) darkness as though it were normal daylight. Elven Eyes (Dark Elf): Enhancement to Sight based Perception. Expanded Breathing: Thin Air (Dark Elf): You require less air than normal. Elven Meditation (Dark Elf): You enter a trance lasting 4 hours in which you gain the benefit of 8 hours of sleep. Lightsleep (Dark Elf): You sleep lightly and therefore are rarely surprised while resting. Longevity (Dark Elf): You have a possible lifespan of 2000+ years Magical Resistance- Charm (Dark Elf): Attempts to magically charm you are less effective. Swiftness (Dark Elf): You are fleet of foot, doubling normal movement speed.Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings. Dark Elf, Special Abilities (OWNED) Shadow Meld ¨C lvl 1¨C (Passive): Due to both magical infusion and your own skin coloration you blend to near invisibility in areas of darkness or shadow. This ability disappears if you move quickly or attack. Gunslinger, Special Abilities (OWNED) Lightning Reflexes (Passive): Character has increased DEX only for the purpose of acting first. GunFu (Passive): You have trained to fight effectively with ranged weapons in close combat situations without penalty. Drop it! ¨C lvl 1 (Action): Gunslinger may target an item on or held by another character. On a success, target is forced to drop the item. Craftsman, Special Abilities (OWNED) Mending (Action): Repairs damage to simple objects. All of the pieces of an object must be present for this spell to function. (Mana cost- 2) ********************** I totally forgot about the ''Expanded Breathing: Thin Air'' thing. That must have been why I could hold my breath for so long. I read them over once more. I really thought that Danger Sense would be good but I guess I haven''t been in a situation for that it to trigger yet. Shadow Meld and Mending sure proved to be a literal lifesavers though. I focus back to the UNLOCKED section. *********************** Dark Elf Special Abilities: Unlocked Elven Lightstep (Passive):This ability allows an Elf to walk on any surface and not leave signs of their passing. -7pts Purchase? Y/N Gunslinger Special Abilities: Unlocked Quick Draw: lvl 1 ¨C (Fast Action): Draw a weapon as fast action. ¨C 5pts Purchase? Y/N FlashBang Shot: lvl 1 ¨C (Action): Gunslinger may fire their weapon close to an opponent¡¯s head imposing the blinded and deafened condition for a short time. ¨C 5pts Purchase? Y/N Pistol Whip: lvl 1 ¨C (Re-Action): Gunslinger may use the butt of their weapon to make a melee attack. ¨C 5pts Purchase? Y/N Craftsman, Abilities: Unlocked Market Song: (Action): Through minor arcane manipulation the skills of Conversation, Persuasion, and Trading are increased for a short time. (Mana cost 2) ¨C 5pts Purchase? Y/N Ice Maker: (Slow Action): Grants the ability to chill liquids down to freezing temperatures. Useful on hot days. (Mana cost 1) ¨C 4pts Purchase? Y/N Clean Shop: (Slow Action): A spell often used at the end of the day to tidy up a workshop or place of business. (Mana cost 2) ¨C 4pts Purchase ? Y/N ********************** Looks to be the same ones from character creation. I disregard the Craftsman ones almost immediately. As far as I''m concerend, unless I want to be some kind of merchant, most of them are a waste of perfectly good points. I read over the choices again and again. It seems like Abilities might be a better decision to go with rather than Skills. They give an almost unnatural super skill or in some cases straight up magical benefit. Then again Skills are usable all the time. If I''ve learned anything in my years rolling dice it¡¯s not just about what your character can do in a combat situation, it¡¯s about how well they can interact with the world. Trading allowed me to barter with Cinnamon over that magic sword. Then again, Insight and Acting might be damn useful to make sure I don¡¯t get swindled when we arrive in town. And Athletics? Preventing falls or jumping out of danger? Man, that is always useful. I look over Elven Lightstep. That might be a really good passive ability. Prevents some forms of tracking. It might even allow me to skirt traps if they use any kind of pressure sensitive trigger. And it would be a great addition to Athletics too. Shame I can¡¯t afford them both right now. Or what about straight up buying more stats? Stun and Hit Points are super important. I remember from character creation that Stun was only half a point each. Should I get a bunch of that? I don¡¯t want to get knocked again. Or Hit Points so I don''t get killed. Though trying to make these decisions are killing me anyway. Arrrgh! I steady my mind and try and focus, clearing it of all thoughts and doubts and bring up a few choices, breaking them down in what feels like a note section of my mind¡¯s eye. ***********************
  1. Elven Lightstep = 7pts Purchase? Y/N
  2. Acrobatics 1pt + Insight 1pt + Quick Draw 5pts = Total 7pts Purchase? Y/N
  3. Trading 1pt + Acting 1pt + Pistol Whip 5pts = Total 7pts Purchase? Y/N
  4. 4 Stun 2pt + FlashBang Shot 5pts = Total 7pts Purchase? Y/N
*********************** I may as well spend all the points that I have. Racial Ability: Lightsleep. Damn! I feel more than see the message and meaning of my triggered Lightsleep ability superimposed over eveything else. At the speed of thought I make my choice as my consciousness is pulled back from the void and returned in a rush of reality. You are no longer Resting. ¡°Brian? Are you¡ªOh!¡± My eyes snap open and Cinnamon is leaning over me, whispering in that low cute voice, her fingers barely brushing skin of my shoulder. ¡°Hey, Cinni. Is something wrong?¡± ¡°Gosh. You sure do wake up easy.¡± She smiles. ¡°Wake up? I just...¡± I take a glance around and notice that the pile of wood near the fire has gone down and a few things have been moved around in camp. It couldn¡¯t have been four hours already! It only felt like I¡¯d closed my eyes for maybe a minute. Two at the most. But, I feel great! The fatigue I¡¯d felt before I slipped off into transendance is completely gone. ¡°Hot damn!" I smile, "Drow are crazy awesome.¡± ¡°Umm, Sure I guess.¡± Doh! ¡°Oh, don¡¯t mind me.¡± I make a show of yawning, ¡°I must still be half asleep. You know? Just babbling nonsense.¡± Acting vs Cinnamon Butter: Fail! Cinnamon raises her eyebrow and I know that behind her that little bunny tail is doing a double twitch. ¡°Here, ahh, Why don¡¯t you, get some rest.¡± Reaching over I grab the blanket and cover myself before standing up and walking over to the clothesline. My pants and shirt were hanging near the fire are pretty dry now. I slip them on and place my still slightly damp boots closer to the heat. By the time I finish dressing Cinnamon has already laid down in her bedroll. She jams a few arrows into the earth next to her and then places her bow and quiver beside them, easily within arm¡¯s reach. ¡°Sleep tight, Cinnamon.¡± After a little yawn, she gives me her closed eye smile, ¡±Nighty nite, Brian.¡± She settles down, curls up under her bedroll, and after a few minutes, I hear a soft rhythmic coo that tells me she is asleep. I place my gun belt about my hip and toss the blanket once more around my shoulders and watch her for a few minutes with a smile. Maybe I¡¯ll ask her in the morning if I make any sleep-snore noises while I¡¯m doing my "Jelf " trance thing? Moving over to the log I take a seat and run my hands through my hair in thought while scouring the surrounding trees. I hope that I made the right decision with my Character Point assignment. I¡¯m just about to see if I can test it out when my stomach growls loudly and I feel a painful knot of hunger hit me under my washboard abs. Nuts, berries and a frigging salad sandwich. I groan and roll my eyes as I recall "dinner." I didn¡¯t want to upset Cinnamon before but I need something more substantial than literal rabbit food in my belly. With a quick glance around I find my knapsack hanging from the branch of a tree. I root around inside and pull out the large chunks of snake meat wrapped up in cloth. ¡°Well, my Naga. Looks like one of us is getting eaten by the other after all.¡± I grin. I wash the meat in the creek then make use of my handsaw on a few branches. After sharpening the sticks to points, I am soon listening to the hiss of flame touched fat and licking my lips to the delectable mouth-watering scent of roasting meat. Survival: Success! While I¡¯m waiting for my, much more fitting for a person and not a herbivore, dinner to cook I check out my armor again. Scruffy (DAMAGED) Studded Leather: Full Body: Armor: 2 Physical / 1 Energy. -2 to Dex. Skills. -1 to Defense Value. I rub my chin. There are a few broken straps and buckles and what looks like teeth marks ringed with dark stains. I push the thoughts of what the previous owner must have gone through before the end. Hopefully he wasn¡¯t alive when that thing started to chomp away. I concentrate on the larger areas of damage, attempting to once more focus that energy like I¡¯d done with my gun. Mend cast on Scruffy Studded Leather: Mana cost 2. Mend cast on Scruffy Studded Leather: Mana cost 2. I grin as the twisted metal buckles on the straps bend and pop back into shape. I try again on a few of the torn flaps and they too stitch and mend before my eyes. Mend cast on Scruffy Studded Leather: Mana cost 2. Scruffy Studded Leather is Repaired. On the third attempt I notice that most of the smaller stress lines seem to stay and I can tell thats the best I can do. Perhaps Mending has some kind of limitation on it? The armor does look pretty old and the obvious damage from the Naga a lot more recent. It could be that there is time limit for when an object received damage and the casting of the spell. General Skill: Deduction: Success! Yeah. That must be it. I smirk to myself after feeling that ding of knowledge and study the armor again. Scruffy Studded Leather: Full Body: Armor: 2 Physical / 1 Energy. -1 to Dex. Skills. Awesome. Looks like it¡¯s no longer busted and with it repaired the penalties to my defensive dodge stat and Dex. skill checks are gone. Or are better anyway. Slipping on the chest and arm pieces I move around a little. After a few adjustments to the buckles and straps I twist and swing my arms about like a windmill. Getting used to the now much more comfortable evenly distributed weight. Checking on my boots I find they are good and dry. I give a little sigh when I slip them on and warm my chilly toes. I pause in putting on the rest of my armor when my stomach growls long and loudly. Out of the top of the sleeping bag I see Cinnamons ears twitch in my direction. Gingerly I stand from my log and step over to the campfire to pull my snake kabobs out of the heat. Blowing them cool I take a bite. I dont know if it''s simply because I''m starving but any lingering thoughts on how eating a once sentient creature might be wrong are immediately washed away in the delicious, slightly flaky, fish meets chicken texture and taste of the flavorful smoky meat. My stomach matches my moan of delight with its own grumbling growl of appreciation I¡¯m sucking my third ribcage like bone clean with a smile when a strange tingle races from the back of my neck and down my spine. The same weird feeling I have had a few times before. Like back in the Naga cave, and right before I saw that dinosaur monster. Crap! Realization hits me like a baseball bat. My Drow-sense is tingling! Chapter 11: I Need a Hero! Encounter: ??? Location: Forest : No Special Effects ¡°Cinnamon! Wake up, girl!¡± I cry out around chipmunk-like stuffed cheeks of snake meat. My playboy bunny girl companion shoots bolt upright from her bedroll, one hand throwing off the cover even as her other snatches up her bow. ¡°Goodness, what wro--?¡± Her ears twitch toward the trees at the edge of the clearing. ¡°Brian? I hear something.¡± She whispers nodding and notching an arrow. ¡°Over there, about forty feet.¡± I trace the general direction she''s indicated to a large clump of bushes... Perception vs ??? Stealth: Success! ...and the glowing eyes half hidden between the leaves. The thing lunges forward with the sound of breaking branches and splintering wood. Letting loose with a roaring screech that nearly freezes me in place. Swallowing both fear and snake meat I drop the kabob and my pistol flashes into my hand before it hits the ground. Thank you Quick Draw! It barrels toward the firelight and I see the gleam of ivory teeth. I squeeze the trigger. Luckily, the shot hits the limb of the beast and throws off the lethal swipe just enough that it misses my head. Though, the sound of the bullet ricocheting off its armored hide is even more frightening than the swiping claws. I try and run backward, to get out of the range of its deadly reach and my back collides with the large stone jutting out over the creek at the edge of our camp. It¡¯s the same prehistoric looking dino lizard-cat creature I saw at the pool. A deep, wet growl bubbles up from its throat after its initial failed swipe and the dancing up-lighting from the fire bestows an even more frightening appearance on its monstrous form. An arrow skips ineffectively off its shoulders and its head jerks quickly between Cinnamon and I as if debating which one of us would make a better dinner, and which dessert. Obviously still deciding its nostrils flare, then the monsters head lowers toward the ground to snap up a pre-meal appetizer. My half eaten snake kabob. Brian, you air biscuit! The scent drew it here. If I hadn¡¯t cooked up the meat... This is my fault! The crack of splintering wood and snake bones pulls me out of my horrible realization a moment before the creature swallows. It locks its eyes onto me and takes an absent swipe at the campfire between us, scattering smoking logs and roasted Naga in a flurry of sparks and ash. I¡¯ve flipped my pistol open and have already started to reload when a second arrow thumps into the side of the beast, burying itself nearly to the fletching. This time it lets out a roar of pain. My elation of us being able to actually hurt it instantly turns to terror as its attention switches to Cinnamon. ¡°Cinnamon, get out of here!¡± The words leave my lips before I even realize what I¡¯m saying. ¡°I¡¯ll hold it off!¡± I¡¯ve never been a hero. Sure, I may play one on weekends, but in real life? Running into a burning building? Facing down a bully? Hell, just being brave enough to go out to a bar and talk to a pretty girl was well out of my comfort zone. Yet, this is my new real life, and here I am telling Cinnamon to run, when deep down, all I wanted was to do the same. ¡°Brian?¡± The bunny girl looks at me for a brief second and I see those big beautiful brown eyes contemplating for a moment. ¡°Run!¡± Her lip gives a little quiver then she takes a step backward, turns and leaps upward into the branches of the tree canopy. Cinnamon Butter uses Special Ability: Lepus Super Jump Even though I told her to do it, my heart sinks as she disappears from sight. I see the monsters legs tense, that alpha predator instinctual need to chase down and devour fleeing prey. ¡°Hey! Ugly! Over here you overgrown iguana!¡± I take a few steps forward waving my hands to get its attention then back step when its head turns toward me. I swallow the lump that¡¯s formed in my throat. ¡°Jiminy Christmas, Brian! What the flock are you doing?¡± I holster my pistol and leap back onto the large stones behind me and scramble upward. There would be nowhere to go once I reached the top but maybe I could peg it with bullets from above. Time to put those new skills to the test. The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. Acrobatics: Success! I jump up, bouncing off one near vertical wall to grip the edge of a wide crack a foot or so from the top of the formation, amazing myself with my newly found parkouring prowess. Glancing down to make sure that I''ve put some space between myself and the monster I let out a panicked cry. The dino-beast has easily covered the distance. It''s claws sparking along the broken rock as it clambers after me. I start to pull myself onto the flattened peak but pain lances up my leg as it snatches my foot between its jaws and I¡¯m yanked free from the stone. Like a dog with a chew toy the creature shakes violently and for a moment the world flashes around me as I¡¯m swung about like a ragdoll. Then I¡¯m crashing along the ground. Tumbling end over end to crack against the rough bark of a tree trunk. Pushing upward I struggle to get up to my feet. My foot throbs with pain when I stand and I see that blood has seeped into my new, old leather boot. Though I¡¯m thankful of the fact I¡¯d put it on as it probably saved my leg from being sheared off at the calf. Colored spots swim in my vision and I can feel I¡¯m not far from blacking out. Brian Status: HP: 8 / 12 Stun: 5 / 22 Mana: 4 / 10 Recovery! That¡¯s the stat that can give you back Stun. Like the Naga did. Though, I think it takes a second or two to do. Can I afford to take a Recovery? I glance around, reorienting and searching for the monster. Some twenty feet away the thing crouches on top of the rock like its playing King of the Hill. Nope! It launches in my direction, sailing through the air. My pistol flies into my hand like it has a will of its own and I squeeze the trigger, firing from the hip. Blood erupts from the softer underbelly of the beast and though I know I¡¯ve done some serious damage, it doesn¡¯t slow. Instead, those bloodshot eyes remain squarely locked on target as it lands and charges. Covering the last few yards in a blink, its jaws lunge forward. Knowing I am about to die I react on pure instinct. With a yell of terror, I dive to the left, under the wide open mouth. Unlocked: General Combat Action: DODGE! Defensive Value Increased! Rolling back up to my feet I turn to see the monster tear a chunk of bark and wood free from the tree I¡¯d been propped against. It whirls to face me and slashes out with a clawed limb, but I¡¯m still dancing backward and the attack goes wide. There was no time to reload. None! My sword is already in my hand and for the third time in less than a minute, I praise whatever gods this world has that I purchased Quick Draw. I know it¡¯s probably not going to do me any good but holding the weapon steels my nerves ever so slightly. ¡°Come at me, bro!¡± I scream my stupid battle cry. With a roar it does. Strings of saliva and old bits of flesh from the other unfortunate creatures it had preyed upon splatter the ground between us. An arrow streaks through the darkness from my right and catches the creature below the jaw of its cavernous maw, sinking into the base of its wide neck. The roar transforms into a wet gurgling hiss and the flying slobber into red, frothing blood. Cinnamon Special Attack: Backstab. Target is Poisoned. Lesser Naga Venom: Special Effect: Paralysis It claws at its neck for a moment trying to dislodge the arrow but only succeeds in snapping off the shaft. I drop my sword and take the brief opening to reload, never taking my eyes off the creature. On shaky legs, it staggers toward me but its movements are sluggish and jerky. My pistol snaps closed and I take careful aim at the neck wound and fire. Cinnamon Special Attack: Backstab. Another arrow thumps into the side of its head and though already dead on its feet it takes two more steps then crashes to the ground. I blast another hole in its neck just to be sure and reload. Somehow I manage not to plug it again and instead lean over with my hands on my shaking knees gulping down air. Now that I''m out of combat I can feel the shock starting to wear off and instinctly know that I''m taking Recovery''s. Recovery: 6 Brian Status: HP: 8 / 12 Stun: 11 / 22 Mana: 4 / 10 Brian Status: HP: 8 / 12 Stun: 17 / 22 Mana: 4 / 10 Brian Status: HP: 8 / 12 Stun: 22 / 22 Mana: 4 / 10 My breathing comes under control and I swing about as Cinnamon steps silently out from the trees, an arrow notched in her bow. I start walking toward her, purpose and the rush of adrenaline driving me onward. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Brian.¡± Her ears droop back and her eyes move from me to the ground in front of her. ¡°I didn¡¯t mean to scare you I needed time to hide so I could get a clear--¡± I cut her off as I wrap an arm around her waist and pull her close. Her ears go stiff, pointing skyward and she emits a rediculiously cute squeak. I place my hand behind her neck and draw her lips to mine. She¡¯s rigid as a board in my arms and I wonder if I have made a huge mistake. Our lips still pressed together I crack open an eye and see hers start to drift closed. Those sexy bunny ears, that were a moment ago pointed straight up, go limp and her shortbow clatters to the ground next to us. Charm vs Cinnamon Butter: Success! Cinnamon lets out a coo moan and melts in my arms. Spurned onward I deepen the kiss and she responds in kind our tongues dancing, one of her long legs lifts to circle around my waist drawing me even closer. I let my hand play along her thigh, squeezing hungrily. Feeling the taunt muscle and smooth skin beneath my fingers. ¡°Well now. What''ve we got here?¡± Gun drawn, I spin toward the voice. Dropping Cinnamon who hits the ground with a startled Eep! Chapter 12: Bring the Thunder ¡°What the hell? Is that thing talking?¡± I spare a glance to Cinnamon who has gotten up to her knees and is rubbing at her butt. A quick pang of guilt rushes through me from dropping her but I push it out of my mind and turn back to what I thought was a dead, non-talking dinosaur. Blood continues to pool and soak into the ground from the wounds torn in its throat and stomach. It¡¯s eyes have rolled back into its oversized skull. Glazed and blank they certainly don¡¯t look to have any life in them. ¡°You did hear that right?¡± I ask Cinnamon still covering it with my pistol. She¡¯s collected her bow and is warily watching the beast with a newly notched arrow. ¡°Umm Yeah. I think so.¡± I study the thing, then it¡¯s throat twitches and I see a lump near the neck wound. I hear a small grunt then the lump slides upward and I¡¯m instantly reminded of all those scenes of cartoon characters burrowing underground. In a mix of fascination and fear I watch the bulge continue to move under the skin toward the open mouth. With a wet noise the tongue flops to the side and then a ball of blood and meat rolls out onto the ground. In a deft movement the ball unfurls and though still covered in grossness its shape is definitely female. The twelve inch tall gore-drenched Barbie doll flicks its arms free of blood and bits of flesh, wipes a hand across its eyes, then turns to regard the dead creature behind it. ¡°Nice job.¡± She says. ¡°For a while there I was worried that I might have to go out the other end.¡± Looking about the Barbie turns and begins to walk toward the creek. ¡°You were in its tummy?¡± Cinnamon asks, her ears drooping. ¡°Gosh, that must have been really awful.¡± ¡°It wasn¡¯t a picnic.¡± The little Barbie rolls her shoulders and a pair of dragonfly-like gossamer wings unfold from where they were stuck to her back. ¡°Oh? You¡¯re a Fairy.¡± Cinnamon says with a huge smile. ¡°And you¡¯re observant. Congratulations. Would you like a carrot?¡± ¡°I like carrots.¡± Cinnamon coos and her ears flick upward in a hopeful expression. She glances to me and then back to the Fairy. The fairy stops. Turns to regard us both for a moment, then with a roll of her eyes continues toward the water. ¡°Rrright.¡± The little woman reaches the creek and hops into the shallow, yet waist high to her water, and starts to splash herself clean as Cinnamon and I share a look of total confusion. ¡°How long were you in that thing?¡± I ask. ¡°Listen, Too Tall? I¡¯m currently covered in yuck. So if you don¡¯t mind I¡¯d rather get this crap off of me before we play question the queen. Alright?¡± The fairy picks a globule of hamburger like meat from her shoulder and drops it into the slow flowing water as if to emphasize the point. ¡°Why don¡¯t you two go make with the cuddlie wuddlies or something till then.¡± She waves a hand dismissively in our direction. I glance to Cinnamon and I see by the bashful blush flushing her cheeks and the insides of her ears that continuing from when we were interrupted is no longer an option. Just my luck. What are the chances that killing a fantasy-land dinosaur would somehow lead to a teeny woman popping out like some pint-sized Jonah from the belly of the whale. And what¡¯s my reward for the rescue? A weenie block from the ungrateful pipsqueak. With a sigh I collect my sword from the ground where I¡¯d dropped it and quadruple check the corpse. Once assured that nothing else is going to crawl out I go back to the remaining pieces of my armor and start to equip the last of it. Cinnamon meanwhile returns to her bag and pulls out a lump of something pale and yellow. She scrapes off a piece with her dagger and then goes over to the streams edge. ¡°I have a bit of soap if you would like.¡± Cinnamon offers the button-sized chunk to the fairy who accepts with barely a nod. While Cinnamon begins collecting the scattered firewood and fixing the campfire I continue adjusting the armor straps on my legs while keeping a close eye on our new visitor. As the dirt washes away I¡¯m surprised to find that, though her tiny pointed ears give her a distinctly elf-like appearance, my initial Barbie comparison is far closer than I imagined. The light silky fabric wrapped around her body is dyed a deep red. Whether that was its initial color or if it¡¯s now been permanently stained from dino blood I can¡¯t be entirely sure. Either way it clings to her peach colored skin turning nearly transparent in the water and leaving very, very little to the imagination. Perhaps it¡¯s the fact that I was so close to tasting that sweet, forbidden fruit with Cinnamon just a few minutes ago but I can¡¯t help but be amazed at the erotic display in miniature as she rubs herself clean and I find myself biting my lip and mentally telling her to slow down. She is wearing some kind of bracer styled, fingerless gauntlets that cover from her forearms to the backs of her tiny hands and when she dips her arms into the water I notice what would be a silver finger ring to a human, circles her upper thigh. Intricate scrollwork etched into its surface. Taking a moment she lathers her hair into a soapy mess then bends to the surface of the water rinsing off the suds. On her back her gossamer wings quiver and then vibrate so quickly they become invisible, the water rippling around her. When she stands back up I see that her almost florescent magenta-pink hair is cropped short in a semi-spiked tomboy-cut that looks extremely sexy on her very feminine, wasp-waisted figure. ¡°Hey! Bit of privacy, pervert!¡± I see a frown tug at her full lips and her iris-less, magenta-hued eyes narrow in my direction. I swing my head and upper body around way to fast to play off anything other than the fact I¡¯d had been checking out the diminutive eye candy but on pure instinct I still attempt to do so. With what I know is a stupid look on my face I glance around the area that I¡¯m sitting, grab a few twigs, toss them into the embers of the campfire and then dust off my hands. Acting: Fail! From my left I hear a weird little sigh noise from Cinnamon. She¡¯d been stoking the slowly growing fire but stands and moves away toward her stuff, poking about in her bag absently. Insight vs Cinnamon Butter: Success! I can tell that she is upset with me by the slump of her shoulders and the way her ears have lost a bit of their perkiness. The knowledge that I¡¯ve hurt her feelings makes me feel like an absolute jerk. Sure, I may have only know Cinnamon for a day but I already really like her. Yes, she was an undeniably hot fantasy bunny girl, but it was more than that. She had a sweet, shy sort of demeanor that I couldn¡¯t deny was just as crazy attractive as her body. And what do I do? Go and ogle some abrasive little fairy not five minutes after I get the courage to kiss her. The thought that I may have possibly ruined my chances with Cinnamon has my guts twisting in both nervousness and anger. I have to try and fix this. But how? I wrack my brain and in desperation come up with what I hope is an idea. ¡°Hey, Cinni? I guess my stomach settled after my rest and I got to feeling a bit hungry. I didn¡¯t want to go through in your stuff or disturb you while you were asleep so, I went and cooked up some of that snake meat.¡± I say indicating one of the discarded kabobs. ¡° Anyhow, I hate to ask, but would you have any more of those sandwiches left?¡± Charm Roll vs Cinnamon Butter: Success! Cinnamon ears give a bit of a twitch and she pauses. She is just about to say something when a call sounds from the creek. ¡°Oh, yeah! You read my mind.¡± The fairy hops from the water and with a buzz of her wings, hovers over to plop down on one of the stones the dino-thing displaced from its attack of the campfire. ¡°What¡¯ve you got to eat, Carrots?¡± ¡°Her name is Cinnamon.¡± I say not bothering to hide my irritation in the least. ¡°Whoa! Alright settle down there, loverboy.¡± The fairy holds up her hands in mock defense and my agitation grows. ¡°Suppose I was thrown off by the whole Drow and pistol thing you got going on. Didn¡¯t realize that you were actually a white knight.¡± ¡°Oh, it¡¯s okay, Brian.¡± Cinnamon has already pulled out what looks to be her last sandwich and is slicing into it with her dagger, a blush on her cheeks. ¡°Brian, huh? Pretty frikkin weird name for a Drow.¡± The fairy snorts. ¡°What¡¯s your House name?¡± ¡°You mean like a last name?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± She says it slow and condescendingly. ¡°Brantly¡± I sigh. She''s really starting to grate on my nerves now. ¡°Brantly?¡± She rolls my name in her mouth like it tasted sour, ¡°Well, that¡¯s certainly no better is it?¡± ¡°I like it.¡± Cinnamon says while offering a near quarter of her last sandwich to the rude fairy and another half to me. She shoots me her closed-eyed smile and I feel a bit of my annoyance ebb. ¡°Figures¡± The fairy shakes her head and takes the offered meal. It looks like she is on some kind of ¡®Americas most ridiculous food¡¯ shows. The one¡¯s where a single glutton attempts to eat a burger the size of a car tire, or a stack of pancakes that requires a pitchfork. And for some reason, it offends me. ¡°Hey?¡± She pokes about in the sandwich with a grimace. ¡°Where¡¯s the meat?¡±Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation. ¡°Oh, umm. I don¡¯t eat meat.¡± Cinnamons ears droop. ¡°Then you must be the chef then. Right, Too Tall?¡± She dismissively sets the sandwich down on the rock next to her. "Why don¡¯t you whip us up some decent grub.¡± A pang of guilt hits me in my chest and I sheepishly avoid Cinnamons glance. Funny, as delicious as the roasted snake had tasted, just the thought of it now soured my stomach. The way the fairy was turning up her nose toward Cinnis lovingly offered food made me want to snatch it away from her and tell her how much she didn¡¯t deserve it. ¡°So? How about it?" The fairy asks. ¡°We better not. That thing came around when I did.¡± I keep my eyes locked onto the fairy. ¡°We don¡¯t want any other foul things making their way into camp tonight.¡± If she caught my thinly veiled innuendo she pays it absolutely no mind whatsoever. ¡°Nah. With its scent all over this place." The fairy waves a hand then leans on her knees. "Believe me, we won¡¯t be troubled by any other beasties. That¡¯s for sure.¡± ¡°I guess I can do it.¡± Cinnamon says opening the bag of uncooked snake meat. The look that washes over her face I can tell she is disgusted at the thought. ¡°Cinnamon, you don¡¯t need to go through the trouble. It¡¯s late and you hardly got any rest.¡± ¡°But she¡¯s our guest, Brian.¡± An almost hurt look crosses her face at the thought of disappointing the twelve-inch nuisance. ¡°Fine.¡± I manage to hold in the sigh, ¡°You go and relax, Cinni. I¡¯ll fix some up food for our... guest.¡± ¡°All right! Now that¡¯s what I¡¯m talking about.¡± She rubs her little hands together greedily. ¡°And don¡¯t go and scrimp on me, Too Tall.¡± I fill my mouth with a huge bite from my sandwich to keep my tongue occupied and start to collect the discarded kabob sticks. For an instant I¡¯m tempted to just wash off some of the dirt-encrusted already cooked meat and offer it to her but, I refrain. Instead I wrap it up in a few strips of cloth to dispose of later then set about cleaning off some new chunks in the creek. ¡°Bookmark that one right there for me.¡± She says pointing to the largest hunk near the middle of a stick as I set them over the fire. ¡°So. I guess you don¡¯t have any food of your own?¡± ¡°Huh? Yeah, of course I do.¡± She pauses then pats her wet clothes with a suck of her teeth. ¡°Well, I did. I think it¡¯s back in his stomach actually.¡± She nods at the dead dino. ¡°What happened?¡± Cinnamon asks while fixing her bedroll. ¡°I¡¯d set up camp up in a rather cozy tree, was having a nice snooze till that scent wafted by.¡± She sniffs the air at the growing smell of my cooking. ¡°Woke me right out of my sleep. So, I figured that I¡¯d just pop around and beg a bite. I was trying to find where it was coming from but that Drayger got the jump on me. Lucky for him he gobbled me up before I could put up a fight.¡± I scoff at her bravado, but then again, fairy¡¯s did usually posess inate magical abilities. Though I highly doubted that it would be any sort of match for that thing. ¡°Gosh. The same thing happened to me.¡±Cinnamons ears shoot up, ¡°A nasty Naga bit me and was going to eat me.¡± She nods to me with her closed eye smile. ¡°But Brian saved me too.¡± ¡°Easy there, Ears.¡± She holds up a hand. ¡°Let¡¯s not go throwing that ¡®saved¡¯ word around so freely, yeah? I appreciate the ¡®assist¡¯ and all, but I¡¯d have been alright.¡± ¡°Sure.¡± I say with a bit more of a laugh than I''d intended. ¡°What was that?¡± The fairy shoots me a glare that could cut diamonds. ¡°Oh, no. Nothing at all.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t think Brian meant anything. It¡¯s just that the forest can be dangerous.¡± Cinnamons voice sounded meek. ¡°Actually maybe we should all stick together? You know for protection.¡± ¡°You think I¡¯m some newborn sproutling? Some kind of child? I don¡¯t need no damn protection, especially from a couple better lucky than good odd balls like you two.¡± ¡°Oh yeah, you made that perfectly clear by the way you got eaten.¡± I laugh fed up with her attitude. ¡°Brian! That¡¯s not very nice.¡± Cinnamon scolds, ¡°Put yourself in her place. She¡¯s just a gentle little fairy.¡± ¡°What!?¡± The fairy jumps up explosively. ¡°Well, it¡¯s just that umm everything is so much bigger than you.¡± Cinnamons ears droop a little, ¡°I can¡¯t imagine how scary that must be.¡± ¡°Why you condescending...¡± Her wings shake in fury, ¡°Listen up, rodent! I would come over there and slap you stupid but since its obvious someone beat me to it--¡± ¡°Alright, that¡¯s it!¡± With a slap of my knees I stand from my log seat. Anger boils in my gut at her insult and the shocked and hurt expression on Cinnamons face. ¡°Oh? You want to step to me, big man? You feeling froggy?¡± She stomps towards me pointing one teeny finger and I can¡¯t help but let out a chortle mirth at the little woman. Good! She¡¯s been nothing but rude and offensive. Let her fume and have a big ol¡¯ spoonful of her own medicine. ¡°I think it¡¯s time for you to go.¡± I say sternly and point out into the darkness. ¡°Or what?¡± ¡°Look, shorty.¡± I say, not exactly sure what I plan on doing. However, now committed, I take an aggressive step toward her. Drow-sense tingling! She launches toward me like a blur, tearing across the short distance with her little legs pumping and a buzz of her wings. In an instant both of my feet go out from under me and the back of my head smacks on my sitting log. Through vision white with pain I blink in shock and see the little Barbie is above me, flying down with a hatchet kick toward my face, lightning-like magenta energy trailing behind her tiny foot. Letting out a frightened pre-pubescent sounding squeal I roll to the side then scramble to my feet as the log shatters where my head had been a scant second before. Bits of splinted wood form a cloud of debris and she jumps toward me, scattering a circle of dust in a wash of speed. Instinctively I whip out with a backhand and she blocks it somehow, rolling over my wrist and running along my forearm to launch from my bicep. Unlocked: General Combat Action: STRIKE! Her tiny fist connects with my jaw and the impact feels like I''ve been slapped across the side of my face with a brick. I go down to the ground again, more stars spinning. I push through the haze and see Cinnamon has, quite literally, jumped to my defense. Flying toward the diminutive creature with a kick and forcing a cease to my assault. Stun exceeded Vitality: Condition: Stunned My head is throbbing and my legs feel like wet noodles. I want to get up but my body refuses. Brian Status: HP: 8 / 12 Stun: 2 / 22 Mana: 4 / 10 I struggle to get my feet under me but instead fall onto my side and roll onto my back. I have to catch my breath, just for a few seconds. Recovery: 6 Brian Status: HP: 8 / 12 Stun: 8 / 22 Mana: 4 / 10 Condition: No longer Stunned I glance over and see Cinnamon still engaged with the fairy. With a shove I stagger and finally stand. My hand moves toward my gun but I pause, unable to draw. I don¡¯t think I could bring myself to actually shoot her. The other things I¡¯ve encountered were monsters plain and simple. But this little fairy is different. Sure she was twelve inches tall, and abrasive as twenty grit sandpaper but she looked and acted, well... human. Cinnamon is still putting up a good show, ducking and shifting away from the energy flashes of the fairy¡¯s blows, though she too looks she is fighting a losing battle. Then the fairy lets loose with a tiny yell and slams her fists together. There¡¯s a resounding bang and even though I¡¯m a good ten feet away my ears pop from the small sonic boom. Fairy uses Special Ability: Thunder Clap. So close, engaged in melee, Cinnamons reaction is much more extreme. The wail of pain that rips from her makes my heart leap into my throat as she drops to her knees, grabbing at her ears with both hands. ¡°Cinni!¡± I hurtle forward. Snatching a branch from close to the campfire I swing it like a club. It cracks into the fairy¡¯s back like a Louisville slugger hitting a home run. I tense involuntarily as she skips like a stone across the ground, afraid I may have killed her. I quickly see my concern isn¡¯t warranted as she turns her momentum into an acrobatic roll, sliding to a stop. Her feet and one hand digging tiny furrows in the earth while the other balls into a fist. ¡°Not bad, Buttercup.¡± She fires back at us like a bullet and I swear I see a gleam in her molten, magenta colored eyes and a tiny smile plastered on her face. I blow to dodge and the little missile streaks past but quickly reorients with a flick and buzz of her tiny wings, circling back on another attack run. Using my branch I fend off a series of punches and spinning kicks, stumbling backward as she swoops about like a hummingbird, keeping me off balance. Unlocked: General Combat Action: BLOCK! Guts twisted in fear, sweat dampening my forehead I block another teeny fist, my branch now splintered and cracked from multiple hits. Clarity comes to me in a sudden wave. She is toying with me. Humiliating me like so many others have done before. In an instant my fear shifts to pure determination. Filled with rage, I grit my teeth and go on the offensive. Launching into a series of wild swings with my broken bat. The fairy gives ground as I shout and cry out my fury. Darting about she doesn¡¯t bother blocking but then after a particularily wide swing she charges forward to deliver a painful chop to my fingers that sends my club tumbling away from me. Shocked I take another swing but I miss by a mile as she drops straight down the ground and once more shears my feet from under me. I land on my face this time, eating dirt and leaves. Spitting loam from my mouth I roll over onto my back trying not to make myself an easy target. The fairy lands on my chest, smirking as she draws back a fingernail-sized fist. ¡°Buh-bye, Brantly.¡± The punch doesn¡¯t come. Instead she spins around to slap an arrow from the air, sending it flying off to thunk and quiver into a tree. Fairy uses Special Ability: Projectile Deflection The fairy¡¯s attention is focused on Cinnamon as she reaches into her quiver for another arrow. Using the distraction I search about frantically. Discarded on the ground my fingers grasp one of the now empty pouches that had contained my snake meat. In one smooth motion, I bring it around, scoop the fairy inside and zip the draw string closed. Twirling it about I slam the bag into the ground with a satisfying thwump. ¡°That''s how you want to play? Wait till I get out of here!¡± I can hear her firing off more muffled threats and a sprinkling of colorful curses as she buzzes about inside the bag like a fly in a empty soda bottle. Holding the leather prison down with one hand I draw my pistol right as her tiny head pops out from a ratty hole in the pouch. I phunk my gun barrel squarely over her head, pinning her to the ground and plugging the end of the weapon with her face like a cork in a bottle. ¡°Hey!¡± I shout, ¡°Enough!¡± I cock back the hammer to drive my point home. I¡¯m not positive I can actually go ahead and splatter the little dynamos melon, but the aches and pains in my body and swollen jaw has tinged my words with enough rage that I hope she sees the threat as very real. Presence Attack vs Fairy + Bonus: Incredibly Violent Threat: Success! Cinnamon, obviously no longer playing with the tiny fist fighter either steps close, drawing her arrow back to point down at the pinned fairy. One ear is still flat against her back and she has a grimace on her face, but it appears that she has nearly fully recovered. The fairy struggles for a brief moment then goes quiet. As I hold her down I hear what sounds like laughter echo from inside my gun barrel. Wary of what she might be up to I slide the barrel down from the fairy¡¯s head but keep it pressed to the bag and against her chest. ¡°Okay, Okay! Point to you both.¡± The fairy wriggles a little and then her arms slide up and out the same hole her head popped through. She holds them up in a surrendering motion for a few seconds then leans her little forearms over the end of my gun barrel. ¡°Guess you two aren¡¯t as pathetic as I thought.¡± She glances past my shoulder to Cinnamon then back to me, ¡°Well now. I figure we¡¯ve all worked up a bit of an appetite with that tumble. I know I did.¡± She licks her lips and glances toward the campfire.¡±So how ¡®bout that food?¡± ¡°Are you frigging kidding me!?¡± I glare at her with as much venom as I can muster. ¡°You think were all gonna sit down and share a snack after the crap you just pulled, Tinkerbelle?¡± ¡°Please," she rolls her eyes, "if you were going to pull that trigger you¡¯d have done it by now.¡± She then taps the barrel with a double knock of her knuckles. "Besides, I think you and I both know that if I wanted to I could make you eat this gun." I glance at Cinnamon who gives me a little shrug. ¡°And by the way, Brian? Since you are so particular about names. Mine ain¡¯t Tinkerbelle.¡± She leans forward and even with her body pinned beneath my hand cannon her words drip with attitude. ¡°It¡¯s Kryst Thunderfist.¡± Chapter 13: Threes Company "I''m gonna blow that stupid, little pimple head right off her shoulders!" "Now, stop talking silly." Cinnamon chides. ¡°But she¡¯s such a rude, condescending, little-- Ugah!¡± I pray that this time my lack of articulation finally gets across my strong objection to Kryst tagging along with us. Clearly, the previous conversations throughout the day and the last five minutes of logical arguments haven¡¯t been doing the trick to convince the way to forgiving bunny girl. ¡°Oh, Brian.¡± She says my name in her soothing coo as if talking to a small child or pet. ¡°Kryst had just gone through a very traumatic experience. Can you really blame her for reacting the way she did?¡± ¡°Yes! Yes, I can!¡± I push my back away from the tree I''m leaning against and wave my arms about in frustration, ¡°And so should you!¡± Its late in the afternoon and Cinnamon and I have been resting in the shade of a large tree on the edge of a slowly flowing river for a good fifteen minutes now. She has removed her boots and sit on the bank, dipping her feet in the cool water. ¡°Sometimes we all just need to be a bit more understanding and show a little kindness." Cinnamon counters while swirling her toes. I think back to the early morning incident with Kryst and the tentative truce which had been called. Well, tentative from my point of view anyway. The fairy had been completely dismissive of the entire affair, and Cinnamon way to quick to pardon the indiscretions. The soft-hearted bunny had even gone so far as to make repeated apologies to the little-winged jerk. After a bit of sulking on my part, I¡¯d finally stormed over and busied myself at the Drayger body, thankful that my skill ranks in Survival gave me something to keep me occupied. So, while Cinni slipped back off to sleep I had committed myself to the gruesome task of slicing off the hide, collecting claws, teeth, and even a few bones. It had worked fairly well and I''d managed to avoid any further interaction with the fairy. With nothing to keep it fresh, I was wary of keeping any more of the raw snake meat around too. So I cooked the rest of it and then did the same with some of the Drayger as well. Letting it sit over the hot smoking coals for the rest of the night. Even cooked I knew the meat wouldn¡¯t last too long, but I figured it would do well enough to give me something to eat in the morning and during the walk to town. While digging about in the Drayger corpse I also had a bit of an epiphany and decided to try and test my Adventurers Backpack. Sitting down with it I envisioned the sorts of supplies that I would need and then reached in. For a moment it felt like I was digging around in a mess of cloth and a mixture of baubles but then my hand found a hard edge. When I pulled it free I held a simple carved wooden box about the size of a loaf of bread. Releasing the small catches on the side I opened it to reveal a variety of tools. A few carving instruments, a hand drill and small hammer, a couple boxes of assorted sized nails and metal pegs. Wire, a couple of roughly textured sanding blocks. Even a pot of glue and clamps. (Travel) Tinker''s Toolkit: Allows for crafting based skill checks -These specialized tools are used to assist in the pursuit of a craft or trade. Adventurer¡¯s Backpack: Mundane: This item can be used to pull forth 5 mundane pieces of adventuring gear. The items retrieved cannot have a value of more than 5 gold. Once an item is called forth from the pack it remains. Contents: 50ft Hemp Rope, Grappling Hook, Handsaw, (Travel) Tinker''s Toolkit. Uses Remaining: x1 The thought of slipping back into my trance and see if I had managed to garner any more character points had also been a tempting one. Though I was unwilling to do so with Kryst around. The fairy had kept herself busy, gorging on the food. Packing away far more than I¡¯d have thought possible into her tiny body. Then, after she''d let loose with a rather impressive belch, she''d given me a nod and a "Thanks for the grub." I had merely grunted back at her before she disappeared into the tree canopy. It had been my hope that it would have been the last we saw of her, but nope. When the sun came up there she was again, flitting down from the branches to inquire about breakfast. Like the annoying scrub she is. While I and the freeloading fairy had picked at the meat, Cinnamon had finished the last of her sandwich and even found us some native wild berries growing close to camp. A bright yellow cherry-like fruit that to me, tasted like cotton candy. A second punch filled fight fest had nearly broken out after we had packed up camp and little Miss Thunderfist informed us that she''d thought about it and decided to take us up on our offer to tag along after all. Joy. And so grumbling and cursing both vocally and under my breath, we set out. Cinnamon and I have made some small talk but lugging the heavy hide and Drayger parts through the forest has steadily sapped our strength and slowed us down considerably, forcing us to make repeated rest stops throughout the day. However, seeing as I had no money I wanted to take anything that we might be able to trade in town along with us. Leaning over the pile I tighten the ropes, making sure that when Kryst returns from scouting we''ll be ready to move.If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. I hate to admit it but she probably has saved us a couple hours of travel by directing our route toward clearer paths and game trails in the forest. And more than once she has pointed out places for river crossings and even had us avoiding a cliff or two. During the trek, the forest canopy has, thankfully, done a fair job of keeping my eyes shielded from the suns glare. I have noticed that when we do find breaks in the trees, the bright light does sting my eyes and though it is uncomfortable it''s bearable. Still, I find myself shielding them quite often, especially when an unexpected ray catches me. Cinnamon stands up and move over to sit a little closer to me, drying her cute, four-toed feet before pulling on her boots. I''ve got a few of my tools in my lap and have been working on carving one of the Drayger claws, every so often pausing to take in magical sights sounds and smells around me. It¡¯s beautiful, the sunlight glinting over the surface of the river. The low liquid burbling sound of water as it trickles and splashes over the almost neon green mossy rocks of the bank. We''ve both drank our fill when Kryst had first flown ahead, though looking at the shimmering surface I feel like setting my lips to it once again. Simply to have another taste of the cool clear liquid. Next to me Cinnamon has gone quiet. She sighs, "I''m really sorry that you saw that side of me, Brian." "What are you talking about?" I boggle, pausing in my carving. "How I wasn''t very considerate of Kryst''s feelings." Cinnamon gives a small shrug of her shoulders."Remember how I made such a big deal about how small she was?" "Cinnamon." I draw a deep breath and pause in my carving and sanding of the onyx-colored claw. "How did you make a big deal. And besides that, she had been insulting the both of us." "That doesn''t make it okay for me to be cruel. You saw how upsetting it was for her and I didn''t make it any easier." ¡°Jiminy Christmas, Cinni. Will you stop apologizing already?¡± It¡¯s my turn to sigh now, and I do so. Coupled with a rub of my temples in a vain attempt to ease my stress-induced migraine. "You must think that I''m a terrible person." Cinni her ears lower as she plucks at some grass. "Huh? Why?" I ask. "Because of the way I acted." Cinnamon pauses, "First I made you think I ran away when the Drayger attacked and then after we... umm... kissed. Well, I guess I was a little disappointed." I feel a lump grow in my throat and my heartbeat rises. "So, you were d-disappointed?" Embarrassment flushes hot across my cheeks and when Cinnamon gives a tiny nod all that keeps me from running away from her and hiding in the forest is that my legs have gone numb and won''t respond. "Cause it was so nice and then Kryst showed up and spoiled it, and..." Cinnamon turns her head away from me a bit more, " ...and I suppose that''s why I was so mean to her." She liked it!? Hot damn! I nearly throw up from the sudden untwisting then re-knotting of my stomach. What do I do!? What do I say!? "No, Cinnamon, come on now." I shake my head, "I don''t think that of you at all." With my elbows on my knees, I lean around trying to catch her eyes. "You didn''t do anything wrong. And you should definitely never feel bad for standing up for yourself or for the way you feel." "But, I''m not brave and confident like you are, Brian." I open my mouth but no words form. Am I really in any sort of position to give her advice on being assertive? When was the last time I stood up for myself in my job? In my life for that matter. I''ve always been one to back down in the face of adversity. Except in gaming of course. Then I could be a totally different person. Just like here. Though I feel like me. All I want to do while sitting here is to reach over and touch her hand. To reassure her that she is one of the kindest people I''ve ever met. To take her in my arms and comfort her. Yet, even though she just told me she enjoyed the kiss I''m too petrified by my own damn insecurities to follow through on the former, never mind the latter. I had been confident enough to make a move on Cinni last night. Something I would have never had the courage to do in my real life. To strut up like an action movie hero and plant a passionate kiss on the beautiful love interest. Was it because I had almost died? Or was my character suddenly directing my actions? Just like knowing how to spin my pistol or-- A bee-like buzz derails my train of thought and Kryst lands in a branch a few feet up. "Half expected to come find you two engaged in a round of hide the carrot." At first Cinnamons ears perk up but then a blush flushes her cheeks and I can see she has just figured out that the fairy is referencing something of a more carnal nature and not an all ages vegetable-themed snack game. My ire rises. "Tell me, Kryst. Is being obnoxious an innate talent for you? Or did you pay good money to become such a professional suckhole?" I ask. "Is someone still in a whining mood?" Kryst frowns her lips and makes them quiver in a mocking imitation of a baby crying. My teeth grind and I nearly launch into another round of verbal fencing but I force myself not too. Further fighting would probably blow up in my face and mess up my chances with Cinnamon. She had just expressed a physical attraction to me, but she wasn''t willing to acknowledge Kryst being a total waste of our time and an absolute tool. As much as I would love to tie this frigging fairy to a lead weight and drop kick her out into the middle of the river I had to find some way to deal with her. I had no real personal experience with this sort of confrontational situation so my mind wanders back to past days at the gaming table. Lounging around, munching on snacks and downing bottles of overly caffeinated energy drinks. Everyone laughing and enjoying the ridiculous situations in the game. Something in those memories causes me to pause. There had been a multitude of times our party members disliked each other upon initial meetings. Mistaken identities and chance encounters were a constant staple of role play and party building. Was I now in a similar situation? Deduction: Success! Kryst was stubborn and hardheaded. Going at her to softly wasn''t going to garner any respect. On the opposite end of the spectrum was attacking with too much aggression. Her every instinct screamed at her to fight back. A different approach was needed to deal with a character personality like hers. Insight: Success! "Here." She crumbles some bark in her teeny fists and sprinkles it above my head, "Butch up. Rub some dirt on your boo-boo and walk it off, Brantly." "I''d tell you to kiss it better," I say dusting the bark off my shoulders, "but what if I end up liking it?" I give over acted shudder but inject humor with the hint of a smile, "Or worse, if you did!" Charm vs Kryst Thunderfist: Success! Kryst pauses, then lets loose with a melodic laugh, "Got that right." A grin breaks out on her small lips. "I would tear you up, Too Tall." Holy crap!I think that may have worked! I wouldn''t say we are ready to go braid each other''s hair but she actually laughed, and her crossed-armed guarded stance has shifted to a less aggressive hand on the hips pose. I let out a chuckle, stand and then help up Cinnamon. "So, Kryst. Did you find anything?" Cinnamon asks. "Yeah." she steps back of her branch and falls for a foot before her wings catch her to hover over our heads. "If you two are done sandbagging follow me. Chapter 14: On the Hook! ¡°As long as you two can keep a steady pace we should be able to make it to Redtree by mid-evening at the latest.¡± Kryst says. "Yeah." Cinnamon points down the river snaking its way through the forest. "I can see the roadway from here so the Twinwater Bridge shouldn''t be too much further." I don¡¯t reply. I¡¯m still too stunned at the sight. We are standing on the edge of a small rise that looks out over the forest. In the distance is the town we are headed toward, and I don¡¯t have to make any sort of Deduction roll to work out how it got its name. On the crown of a large knoll, one entire side sheered away as if a titan had chopped into the earth with a shovel, sits a gigantic, skyscraper-sized tree covered in red leaves. Framed against the haze of a distant ocean the nearly pitch black trunk is huge. The wide base spreading out to easily cover the radius of a city block, while massive gnarled roots writhe into the earth to keep it perched on the peak of the mountainous rise. Ruddy brown roofed buildings crowd together about the base of the tree and across the surface of the hill, while large platforms and a web-work of scaffolding hang out over the side of the grey and orange rock cliff face. Two large cranes frame either end of the precipice, a series of smaller cranes scattered at random intervals between. Their cables and pulleys dangling over the edge and down toward a large lake that sits at the bottom, connected to the sea by a fat river that disappears around the edge of the hill. There are even structures built onto, and into, the side of the rock face. Clumped like barnacles they work a trail from the top all the way down to the base of the cliff where more buildings cluster about the edge of a series of piers that jut out into a lake. Along with smaller fishing boats a few galleon styled, wooden trade ships sit docked at the piers and also anchored near a small island with a red glowing ember of light at its center. The boats colorfully painted hulls a sharp contrast to the muddy brown waters. "Let''s go." Cinnamon says and there is a tinge of excitement in her soft voice. "Maybe we can make it to town before nightfall if we hurry." I glance over and see that she has already started down the side of the rise, hop skipping her way toward the river bank. A buzzing hum sounds from behind me and the hair blows from the side of my face in the miniature helicopter like wash of fairy wings. A moment later two small feet land lightly on my shoulder. It talks all my willpower not to immediately swat Kryst away like the annoying pest she is. There is a long pause and I turn my head slightly to catch the fairy in my peripheral vision. ¡°She really is beautiful, isn¡¯t she, Too Tall.¡± ¡°That she is.¡± I turn my head back and continue watching Cinnamon as she waves and motions for us to hurry up and follow. Kryst sucks her teeth, ¡°Not your long-eared girly girl, dopey.¡± She smacks the side of my head and points off toward the massive tree. ¡°Her!¡± I scrunch up my face and toss back a bit of attitude in kind. ¡°Didn¡¯t think you would be into trees and stuff. Doesn¡¯t seem your style.¡± ¡°What?¡± Kryst lets out a melodic chuckle ¡°Look, I may be as tough as a dwarven black-iron nail, but I¡¯m all fairy too.¡± Kryst''s flashes me an actual smile but a hint of sadness tickles the corners of her magenta-hued eyes. A small crack in her normally brash demeanor. In an instant, her shoulder set square once more and she swipes her doll-sized hand over my ear. ¡°Remember that, Brian.¡± She lifts from my shoulder and flits away and I quickly turn my attention from her departure back toward town. Not because I wanted to have another look at the awe-inspiring majesty of Redtree but because I¡¯m biting my lip and trying not to shudder from the euphoric sensations shooting through my chest and loins from Krysts tickling of my sensitive, erogenous zone, ears. ************************ The forest thins noticeably as we make our way toward the roadway; signs that we are nearing a civilized settlement plainly apparent in the numerous clean-cut stumps of trees. Perhaps felled by lumberjacks for building materials. It makes me feel a bit better. As much fun as camping can be, I''ve never been much of an outdoorsy type and I¡¯m looking forward to having a roof over my head tonight. With our course plotted Kryst has decided to take a nap and crawls into Cinnamon''s backpack as we walk. The bag shifting and moving as she gets comfortable in a soft bed of Cinnamon''s spare clothes. Again I experience a spasm of resentfulness toward the fairy, especially with the heavy collection of hide and monster parts digging into my shoulders. "Hey, Cinni." In an effort to take my mind off of the ache in my muscles I decide to try and engage in a bit of small talk. "Quick question, besides Redtree where else does this road we''re looking for lead to?" "Oh, it''s the Timberland Trail." She replies with a glance back, "It connects Redtree with some of the other smaller villages further out in the Shimmerwood."This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it. Ah, so that''s the name of this forest then. "And you said that you have been here before? Redtree, I mean. What about these other settlements? Have you visited them too?" I ask, "I just want to know a little of what they might be like. You know, get a lay of the land." "Sure." She shoots me her closed-eyed smile. "Well, let''s see. Most are small farming communities, and there are some mines in the mountains, so a few of the villages built up around them. Then, there are a couple others who harvest the rare woods that grow in the forest. Particularly Ironwood and Trollbark." Airship Tech + Bonus from Complementary Skills: Success! The names trigger something in my mind. A glimpse of the innate knowledge that I seem to possess. Ironwood: As strong and resistant to fire as steel, this naturally occurring mana infused wood, is much lighter than metal. A popular building material for Airships where a light but strong material is required. Armor and weapons constructed of Ironwood are favored by Druids, Elves and other beings that share a strong connection with nature. Trollbark: These trees often grow where populations of Trolls are high. Extreme care must be taken not to leave this wood resting in piles for too long as it has the bizarre ability to bond with itself or other woods. A frequently used material in ship construction or any sort of manufacture where solid airtight seals or seams may be needed. "So the goods are usually refined in town a bit before they are shipped down via wagon and sold in Redtree." Cinnamon says. "You seem to know quite a bit about the area. Is this where you are from? One of the small towns around here?" "Nope." Cinnamon shakes her head, then pauses and seems to think for a moment. "Well in a way, yes. I''m from Hutchhollow. It''s through the forest to the east. Lepuri like to keep to themselves so it is sort of isolated, but we trade with the villages I''m referring too." Unlocked: General Skill: Conversation vs Cinnamon Butter: Success! "So your town, Hutchhollow, it doesn''t have any major roads connecting it to Redtree then." "Not directly no." She shakes her head, "There is a road that loops around the Shimmerwood before it connects to the Timberland. It''s safer but it would have taken me at least a week to go all the way around." Cinnamon shrugs, "It took me long enough to get home as it is." "So what''s the rush? Not that I''m complaining." I chuckle. "After all if you had gone walkabout we wouldn''t have bumped into each other." "Oh, umm. I just have to go to Redtree and see about... something." General Skill: Conversation vs Cinnamon Butter: Fail! I feel my right eyebrow raise all by itself. What kind of weird non-answer was that? It definitely feels like she isn''t giving me the whole story and judging by how quiet she''s gotten, coupled with her cute bunny tail double twitch it seems like something is on her mind. I''m just about to press for more information, to see if maybe I can help with whatever may be bothering her when she lets out a little coo points at the bushes ahead and then skips forward quickly. In an effort to not fall behind I increase my pace and quick-step after her. Pushing through foliage the surrounding trees come to an abrupt end and we are standing on the grassy shoulder of a wide dirt road. ************************ By the look of the multitude of crisscrossing wagon tracks, the Timberland Trail is pretty well traveled. Though un-paved the earth is hard packed and wide enough that a couple of cars could pass comfortably. Walking on the roadway is definitely easier than picking our way through the forest and so we make even better time. Still, the journey so far has already taken its toll and when we spot the bridge ahead we have to once more stop and catch our breath. Cinnamon takes a seat on a large rock sipping at her waterskin while I drop my gear and take a look around. Spanning the width of two rivers the size of a football field the Twinwater bridge looks to be made of an old grey stone; many of the decorative carvings and statue-like structures along its length worn away with the passage of time. I take a slow walk onto the bridge and see more than a handful of places where it has been meticulously patched and repaired. New darker bricks a stark contrast against old sun bleached, eroded stonework. I''m about to turn and walk back to Cinnamon when I notice a strange object some twenty or so feet away. Moving closer to get a better look I find a fishing pole jammed into a hole in the stone at the edge of the bridge. Not that I''m any sort of expert it looks like no fishing pole I have ever seen. More like something that was purchased at a steampunk convention instead of a bait and tackle shop. The line jerks a bit as it stretches down into the churning water below and I reach over to tap at it. A split second later the line jumps wildly, the pole bending over like it''s attempting to double as a question mark. In a panic, I shoot a quick glance about and seeing no one around, grab snatch at the pole. The line goes taut and dances about as I pull the fishing rod free from its stone holder and grasp at the spinning handle. Unlocked: General Skill: Fishing: Success! I can feel the struggle and pull at the end of the line as the fish zips left and then darts back to the right. I have always scoffed at the fishing shows on television, rolling my eyes at the baseball cap-clad sportsmen. However actually feeling the heavy tug of the pole in my hand ignites a strange primal elation. Adrenaline floods my system as I wind at the spindle, dipping the rod to release a little of the steel spring-like tension. General Skill: Fishing: Success! I almost lose my grip when I feel a heavy drag, the current of the river aiding in the fish''s attempts at escape. The spool releases and I lose a bit of the momentum that I had gained from the initial start of the battle. General Skill: Fishing: Fail! I grit my teeth and throw myself back into the fight. In the river below something jumps clear of the surface in a brilliant flash of silver and crimson. I marvel at the huge fish as it twists in the air then hanging motionless for a split second before it splashes back down to disappear beneath the roiling water. The sudden shock of tension hits the line and with a hi-pitched twang the line snaps, the pole bouncing back in my hand to whip across my face. General Skill: Fishing: Critical Fail! I let out a cry of pain and grab my face as a trickle of wetness flow down from my forehead and red floods my right eye. I spin about with a curse on my lips and, through my blood blurred vision, catch a mottled green-hued clawed hand grip the stone railing of the bridge. A moment later a monstrous form hauls itself over the edge and lets out an angry roar. Chapter 15: Catch of the Day "Ya damned dumb brainless nim-nut!" I''ve already drawn my gun as the monster lunges forward with an outstretched clawed hand. Too close! My breath catches in my throat as I prepare for the vicious, hand-sized talons to tear into my flesh. Thankfully they miss my chest but the frying pan sized hand grips around the fishing rod that I''m still holding. The beast yanks forward, snatching the pole out of my hands with such force that I stumble and collide into its large, smelly stomach. Still, I manage to squeeze the trigger and it lets out a howl of pain as the bullet hits dead center in its barrel chest. "What the hells!? Now ya shooting at me too!?" The seven-foot leathery skinned man-thing rears up. I try to dodge but the pimp-slap backhand crashes across my face and neck and I''m sent sprawling to the ground. Stun exceeded Vitality: Condition: Stunned Brian Status: HP: 6 / 12 Stun: 3 / 22 Mana: 10 / 10 "Frigging melonhead!" It roars. "Look what ya did!" I struggle to orient myself, expecting to find the beast crouching over me, eager to deliver a slash and open up my stomach like a zip-lock bag. But it is just standing in place. Twisting the fishing rod about in its clawed hands. Inspecting it with beady bloodshot eyes. I watch with a mix of horror and amazement as the nasty open wound on the things chest stops bleeding. Strings of muscle twist and knit before my eyes, the skin sealing over. Though it looks way different than I would have imagined the recognition of what is standing a few feet away hits me harder than the slap it had just delivered. A troll! Although this world is unlike what I''m used to via my tabletop experience I very much doubt that the Trolls here would be pushovers. They were almost always a mid to high-level challenge rated monster, no matter the game system. Acid and fire were the usual counter effects to cancel their regenerative capabilities. I had neither. And as any half seasoned role player would tell you, unless you were prepared to fight one, it was best to steer well away from a Troll. I try to think. To pull on my instinctive in-game character knowledge and how these might differ from the ones I have battled in my imagination at the gaming table. Survival: Fail! Nothing!? Crrrrrap! "Got the line all tangled." It sucks drool through its tusk-like teeth. "Think you even busted the spring. I''m gonna have to fix it and reset the spool." The troll absently wipes his hand over where the gunshot had hit, smearing red-black blood in a half-hearted attempt at cleanliness. "And ya gone and lost me my dinner, too?" Its ugly head swivels around and he stomps toward me, a curved claw pointed at my head. "Oh, yer gonna pay for this. You hear me?!" "Brian!" Cinnamon is running toward us from the end of the bridge and I stumble crawl to interpose myself between her and the monster; quick drawing my short sword in a flash of silver and steel. "Don''t!" She yells, "That''s Icky!" "Yeah, I know. Super gross!" The stench of it was definitely something to be feared but now was not the time to be fretting about of getting a little bit dirty. "You go around and see if you can hit it from behind. I''ll keep its attention. Use acid if you have it and... Yes!" I remember the magical fire arrow that Cinni and I found in the Naga cave, "That fire arrow that you got! Maybe if we keep it at range we can take it down." "NO!" Cinnamon grabs my shoulder and spins around to stand between me and the thing, waving her arms to either side to block me from it. "That''s Icky!" "Cinnamon?" The monster turns its attention away from me and its mouth splits into a hideous grin, long broken fangs stretching out from its drooling lower jaw to cover half its face. "What?!" I scrunch up my face and risk a quick glance at her before returning them to the creature. "I don''t believe it. Is that my little Butter bunny buddy?" He places his fists onto its wide fat hips and performs an overacted lean forward. "Uh huh." Cinnamon turns about to regard the creature and gives a little nod and a wave. "Girl, last time I saw you," He holds his hand to indicate a height of about three feet. "You was just a gangly little thing no bigger than a barrel of apples." He makes an awful loud huffing noise that sounds like his throat is full of phlegm and I realize that he is laughing."Now, look at you. Gone and shot up and with more curves than a corkscrew." Hold up? Cinni knows this thing!? Cinnamon lets out a giggle coo and I can''t help but stare stupidly between the two of them. And is this monster mackin on my woman? "How have you been, Icky? Gosh, you''re the bridge troll now?" She gives her closed-eyed smile. "Yup." The troll nods with obvious pride, "Council appointed. Twinwater bridge caretaker and toll collector." He lifts a slab of the bulging beer belly hanging over the waist of his tattered brown stained, knee length pants. There on a knotted rope belt is a metal shield the size of a policeman''s badge with a bridge, tree, and coin painted in red. "What happened to Slygo?" Cinnamon asks. "He took his Deadwalk going on three summers now." The troll grins with a mouth like a derelict graveyard. "Rumor is he completed it down near the Shattered Isles, slaying a Kraken." "Awww, Well good for him." "Yep. Maybe I''ll be lucky enough to go out like that one day." Icky says with an awful grin. "Not for a long time I hope." Cinnamon replies. "Ain''t none of us getting any younger, Butter bunny." He says with a wet chuckle. "Your gramps is here in town too, you know? Been here almost a month now." He glances over to me and then back to Cinnamon.This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there. "Wait." His eyes narrow and a strange smirk pulls at the side of his cheek. "Is this fella here your buck?" He points at my chest, "Are you bringing him by to introduce him to Midnight?" "Oh umm, well I..." Her ears dip and Cinnamons cheeks turn an interesting shade of red as she starts to stutter, her voice going tiny and meek. She shoots a nervous look back at me and bites her lip. The glance pushes an uneasy thought to the forefront of my mind. I just met Cinnamon, was she planning to have me meet her family? Is that why she was acting so secretive before? I suddenly feel walled in. Caught. Like a snare has tightened around my foot and in an ironic twist that I''m the one caught in the rabbit trap. "I uhh well, I know that Pop-pop is here... and yeah I need to go to see him but..." The noose tightens. "But I just met Brian on my way here. So umm... no, he isn''t my... buck." Cinnamon shakes her head and I feel both a wash of relief and also a strange little twang of rejection. A long pause draws out and the trolls eyes dart between us. "Alright, sure. I get ya." The smirk still on the edge of his bulging lips, coupled with the knowing ''guy nod'' he shoots at me, says volumes. "Oh, my goodness. I didn''t actually introduce you." Cinnamon says and indicates me and then the troll. "Brian this is Icky." "Crodrick, actually. Most people around here just call me Crod though." He says and walks forward to tower over me. I push down the fear and look up at him. The troll stands a good two heads taller than I do, with a tree trunk build to his torso and long ape-like arms. The legs are similar to a horse in shape, though the feet splay out in large three clawed feet where the hoof would be. "Only this little Butter bunny here gets to call me Icky." A cow-like tail, long enough to smack at the thick mane of hair sprouting around his shoulders and upper back, swishes about to swat away at the flies hanging about his smelly body. He extends a huge four clawed hand expectantly and I choke down my hesitation and shake an oversized bearlike claw. "Brian." Not sure what else to say I add, "Nice to meet you, sir." "Sir!" Crod lets out his disgusting laugh, "I like that." His hand closes around my own, all the way up to the wrist and his pus yellow eyes narrow. "Still that doesn''t make up for busting my fishing pole, letting my dinner get away or shooting me, now does it?" "Now, Icky. There is no reason for you to do anything unpleasant." "It''s the principle of the thing. Besides, I''m a township agent. I got the guards approval to met out justice here on my bridge as I see fit." The trolls grip tightens and the bones in my hand scrape together painfully. "To make sure he doesn''t act up like that in Redtree, perhaps I should just pull an arm off." I gulp. Judging by the strength in those steel coiled forearms, there''s no doubt in my mind that he could make good on the threat. "Icky." Cinnamon tisks with a frown. "Alright, alright." He grins and a cold shiver runs down my spine. "Maybe just a break or two, then." "Icky!" Cinnamon stamps her foot. "Wait!" I grunt and glance at the reel still held in his other hand and an idea pops into my head. "I''m sorry about your fishing pole but maybe I can fix it. I''m pretty good with tech and stuff." I think, or more like pray, I am anyway. "And I know it isn''t fish but I have some Naga and Drayger meat, too." He follows my nod toward the bags still sitting at the start of the bridge. Unlocked: General Skill: Persuasion vs Crodrick: Success! "Drayger, ''eh?" He scratches the bush of hair at his chin then follows up with a scratch of his backside. "I haven''t eaten Drayger in a long while." He releases my hand and I shake the sting from it as the blood flow is restored. "Alright, then. If you replace my dinner and fix my gear I won''t cause you any bodily harm." He slaps my shoulder and I wince. "But that''s just cause I''m giving you the friends and family discount. On account of my little Butter bunny buddy." Crod smiles in what I assume is supposed to be a friendly gesture, but watching his wood chipper of a mouth twist about it looks more like the stuff of nightmares. *********** It takes me a few minutes to separate the meat from the rest while Cinnamon and Crodrick chat away where I had left them near the middle of the bridge. Catching up on whatever history they shared. I wish I knew what they were talking about but I''m still not entirely comfortable around that thing. Cinnamon doesn''t seem to be wary of it at all and although I''d like to think that he was just kidding about the ripping off or breaking of my arm, part of me definitely thinks that he wasn''t. Insight vs Crodrick: Success! I look over the pile; Snake Meat: Servings: x4 Dirty Snake Meat: Servings: x2 Drayger Meat: Servings: x28 The meat still seems good. I''m not too sure about the Naga but I doubt he has all that concerning of a pallet. If what I remember about trolls still holds true here, due to their regeneration, they can devour almost anything. I slice off eight serving worth of Drayger and place it and all of the remaining Naga meat into a sack for the Troll. Even with nearly a third of it gone I was still left with a huge amount that I might be able to trade with. Picking up the last of the various bags I reach over and grab Cinnamons as well, stumbling a little under the combined weight. "Hey? Take it easy out there." Cinnamons bag shuffles around and Kryst pokes her head out then climbs out with a stretch, followed by a lip-smacking yawn. "So, what''s the word? Are we there yet?" "No. We are at the bridge." I heft the bags to my shoulder, forcing Kryst to flutter up into the air. "The bridge?" I point around at the bridge as I begin to walk across it Kryst following behind. Cinnamon is standing near the center but I don''t see where Crod has disappeared off to. That makes me a little nervous. "Hi Kryst, glad to see that you are awake. Did you have a pleasant nap?" Cinnamon smiles. "Eh. Not too bad. Except for this guy waking me up by shoving me around like a bag of potatoes." Kryst replies with a thumb in my direction. "Could use a little bit more though." She adds with a yawn. "Well then, I have some great news." Cinnamon says. "Icky is packing up for the day and he said that he will give us a ride to town." "What the hell''s an Icky?" Kryst asks with a tongue out sneer. "Oh, yes, he is an old friend of mine who lives here in Redtree." Cinnamon replies before I can. "A ride?" I ask as Cinnamon takes her backpack, the meat sack and a couple smaller bags of Drayger parts. "Yeah. He has a wagon." She says and turns, starting toward the other end of the bridge with her relaxed cheery attitude and motioning for us to follow. "Sweet. I can catch a bit more shut-eye then." Kryst pipes in. Slowing my pace I let Cinnamon get a little ways ahead, then motion to Kryst with a finger and a tap on my shoulder. She gives me a strange look but lands and takes a seat next to my ear. "What''s up?" Kryst asks. "You know what." I lower my voice to a barely audible whisper praying that those sensitive ears of Cinnamons can''t hear us. "Maybe it is not such a hot idea for you to go back to sleep right now. I don''t know if I completely trust this ''friend'' of Cinnis." The fairy raises an eye and gives me a bit of a smirk. "What''s the matter, lover boy? You feeling threatened by this guy?" "Definitely." I scoff. "Ha! Alright. I''ll keep him occupied so he doesn''t get too friendly with your girl." She grins, "But you owe me a drink once we get to town." "No, you don''t understand. That''s not what I mean. He''s a real troll and I just get a super bad feeling from him. I think he might become like physically violent or something. " I wince as Kryst lets out a loud laugh straight into my ear hole. "I don''t think that the two of us have much to worry about when it comes to some belligerent jerk." She elbows me in the earlobe and the strange twist of irony that Kryst is accusing another of being a confrontational loud mouth isn''t lost on me. "You are actually pretty good in a tussle and I''m, well..." She dusts off her shoulder, "a total badass." "No Kryst, You''re still not getting it." Cinnamon has reached the other side of the bridge now and I watch as a large rickshaw styled wagon is pushed out from behind a clump of trees and onto the road. "I wasn''t using a colorful metaphor." I say as Crodrick the troll takes his place between the guide poles while Cinnamon hops into the back and waves for us. Kryst stiffens and she shoots me a narrowed eyed glance. "What the fuc--" Chapter 16: The Way to Redtree "Hey now! Is that yours?" Crods monster grin stretches wide and he pauses in his poking through the meat bag Cinnamon had passed him. Instead he points a dagger claw in my direction and I turn to look over my shoulder, back the way we came. Wondering if I misplaced one of the bags as we made our way over to the other side of the bridge. "Pardon?" I ask seeing that I hadn''t dropped or forgotten anything. "The fairy. You ain''t got it on a leash or nothing so I''m guessing its trained." Crod says while flinging his meat into the back of the cart carelessly, all his attention now focused on Kryst who is now standing on my shoulder. The creak of her tiny gauntlets loud in my ears. "Big one too. Tell you what, you toss it in with the deal and you don''t even have to worry about fixing my fishing pole." "Are you serious?" I boggle. "Of course." "I ain''t for sale you slime sucking swine." Krysts anger is palpable. The hairs on the side of my neck rise with the crackle of ambient energy pouring off of her. "Oh? It''s a Gleam." Crod sucks his oversized teeth. "Just my luck." "Wait!" I''m rocked back on my heel. "You can buy fairies? How? Why?" Magitech + Bonus from Complementary Skills: Critical Fail! Crod shrugs, " For Mana generation mostly, though some like to keep them as pets. Or..." he wiggles his eyebrows, "you know." I have no idea what he means but he shoots me a ''guy nod'' and smirk again then turns around and starts lowering a set of straps over his shoulders, connecting them to the guide poles of the large cart to leave his arms free. "I was just gonna eat it. They are delicious after all." "What?! You were going to eat her?" I knew this guy was bad news. I glance at Cinnamon expecting her to be appalled at his confession, but she is fixing a comfortable spot in the cart. "Cinnamon! Are you hearing this? He was talking about eating fairy''s." "Yeah, I know." She sticks out her tongue and make a blanched face. " Give me a nice carrot or turnip, thank you." Cinnamon shivers, "Eating meat. Yuck." "Bah! You don''t know what you are missing. They kinda taste like elf for the most part. Sweeter though. Like they''re naturally marinated in honey wine." Crod touches his fingers to his lips and makes a smacking sound. "What the hell! He eats people! How can you trust this dude?!" "Oh, I don''t. Well not like that. I mean Icky is a troll you know." Cinnamon says with a cute giggle. "I''m sure he would eat me too if given the chance." "Yep. Gobble you right up." Crod burble laughs and makes a few air chomps in Cinnamons direction." She has a good head on her shoulders this one." He thumbs toward her with a claw, "But seriously, I don''t just go around eating just anybody. Like shooting someone who don''t deserve it, it''s hardly civilized behavior. Wouldn''t you say?" The passive aggressive statement and ugly smile Crod shoots my way says in no uncertain terms, he''s still holding a bit of a grudge. "Wait, I don''t get it. So do you or do you not, eat fairys? Elves? Humans?" It feels like I''m the new guy at the gaming table and everyone around me is laughing at some shared inside joke from a past game session. And I hate it! "Only if the opportunity presents itself. You know if some, poor drunk sap falls from the Skydock and the family can''t afford the burial, well I''m willing to step in and take the body off their hands for a few gold. Everybody wins." He gives that grotesque monster smile, "Anyhow, you two climbing on or what? I''d like to get to town in time for The Drunken Wizard two copper drink deal." "What the hell is happening?!" I all but scream. This monster was as nonchalant about his barbaric dining habits as he was about making it to high fantasy happy hour. And Cinnamon was condoning it! "Brian? I don''t understand. " Cinnamon ears lower. "Why are you so upset. I mean we haven''t know each other for that long but," she tilts her head to the side. "I mean you ate that nasty Naga." "That was... different." I shake my head refusing to acknowledge the similarity and any possible hypocrisy on my part. The thing was going to eat me after all. "Oh... umm...Why?" Cinnamon continues to stare at me, a look of total incomprehension in those big brown eyes. Crod too is giving me a eye raised, quizzical, ''Yeah. C''mon, man.'' expression. A glance to Kryst and the sour look on her face confirms that she has my back though. I can''t fathom why Cinnamon is not more angry or upset about this. The more I think about it though, the more a strange perspective forms. Perhaps I''m the one out of line. Am I simply ''problem creating'' here? Still, I''m standing with my brain in gear and my tires spinning in the mud. I was trying to apply both real world and past game logic to the situation. Obviously this was some kind of strange norm in this world and if I was going to make any headway I needed to understand it. "Listen, where I''m from, trolls and fairies are well... they aren''t like here." I have a little internal chuckle at my non-politically correct faux pas. If I had said that aloud in the wrong circles back in the really, real word I''d have been all but lynched. And it is yet another sobering thought. Back in my old life a simple slip of the tongue or view that could be deemed offensive to some might get you a verbal lashing, but here, it could mean the very real threat of a physical and potentially lethal confrontation. I take a seat on the edge of the cart. "Tell you what. How about you fill me in on how things work here. Just pretend that I''m like, the na?ve newcomer trope." "Huh?" Cinnamon blinks. "He is a weird one, Butter bunny." Crod burble laughs with grin then reaches into his bag of meat in the back of the cart, "But, I like him." Without a care he pops a monstrous handful of meaty chunks in his mouth, crunching through bone like butter. ************************ As the sun dims, washing the skyline in watercolor blend of orange and purples, the glow of three moons slowly begin to appear. When we had made camp last night I didn¡¯t get a good look at the sky due to it being mostly hidden from view by the dense forest canopy. Now, with the deforestation of the roadway I have no such issue. The first two moons are smaller, their light muted as if hidden behind a curtain of blue silk. The third though is a image of wonder. An immense, shattered grey-white orb that reminds me of something from an old Hanna Barbara cartoon. Cracked in half the pieces hang in the evening sky, with broken stone and asteroids forming a glittering ring around its center. We have only been clattering along in the back of the troll powered Crod cart for a few minutes, but my tired muscles haven''t stopped thanking me for the decision to not walk the rest of the way to town out of spite towards Cinnamons monster friend.Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation. "You see the same things that make us trolls such a frightening foe on the battlefield, like our ability to regenerate and what I''ve heard described as, and this is a term I''m particularly fond of by the way." Crod gives a wet chuckle, "Brutish strength. That also makes us particularly valuable in pretty much any workforce." "See, compared to many of the other, well I guess what most would call monstrous humanoids," Cinnamon pauses, "No offence, Icky." Crod shakes his head and smiles around a mouth of drool and torn meat, "None taken." "Yes, umm, right, well trolls are actually quite reasonable creatures and those who decide to settle down amongst civilized folk are usually respectful enough of the rules and expectations of the society in which they have chosen to live." "Or maybe they''re simply more secretive about the savage practices they engage in behind closed doors." Kryst pipes in with a glare toward Crods back. "In the wild these nasty buggers tend to settle down in old ancient structures that they restore and refurbish. Ruined fortresses, old temples, that sort of thing." Kryst continues, "They seem to be particularly attracted bridges that have fallen into disrepair." "Bridges, huh?" I say. Seems the clich¨¦ holds true here at the very least. I wonder if they hold any sort of animosity toward Billy goats too. Especially ones of the ''gruff'' variety. "Personally I think they simply enjoy the fact that bridges make excellent ambush points, and being the inherently opportunistic thugs they are, many trolls charge travelers exorbitant tolls to cross over any bridges that ¡®belong¡¯ to them or their families." Kryst says. "Usually threatening violence or worse on any who dare refuse to pay." "Yep." Crod bobs his head in a bizarre affirmation, not denying Krysts claims in the least, "So rather than attempt to slay or capture trolls who engage in, what I personally think is unfairly referred to as highwayman-like practices, many communities instead employ us as overseers and caretakers of their bridges and way castles. We''re therefore allowed permanent residence within said structures and allowed to keep a portion of any tolls made too." Crod bobbles his head in what I assume is pride, "Redtree has had a bridge troll for generations." I give a nod, "You had mentioned that there was another troll here before?" I ask. "Yeah, ol'' Slygo." Crod nods. "Slygo was bridge troll here when I was a little kit." Cinnamon says. "What happened to him." I ask, "You said that he had retired or something?" "Not exactly." Cinnamon shakes her head. "Due to their hardy constitution and regenerative abilities, trolls are effectively immune to most diseases and toxins, so they have quite a long natural lifespan." Cinnamons ears perk a little and she gives a smile and pats a bottle on her hip, "It''s one of the reasons troll blood is used in lots of healing based potion crafting too." The thought causes my stomach to churn and I''m pretty sure I throw up a tad in my mouth. Cinnamon glances to Crods back and then lowers her voice in what seems more a sign of respect that to keep Crod from overhearing. "But as they get older, their regeneration rapidly slows until finally they succumb to the most common of diseases. When this starts to happen many elderly trolls develop a kind of reckless, suicidal attitude." "So we head out from home on our Deadwalk." Crod interrupts, "Looking for a worthy challenge so we can go down swinging rather than die some withering coward¡¯s death." A long pause draws out as the cart continues its squeaky journey. "Alright, I suppose that explains a few things." I glance toward Kryst who is leaning against the side of the cart, then turn back toward Cinnamon, "But how can you be cool with slavery? Or with him eating fairys?" "Slavery?" Cinnamons voice goes small and timid, her ears flattening. "What do you mean?" Crod waves a claw dismissively, "You eat birds right? Like turkey or chicken. Maybe even keep them in a coop and farm their eggs. That''s not considered slavery." Crod shrugs while he plods onward, "Same thing. I mean your average fairy is just an animal, no smarter than a pigeon." "Huh?" I glance to Kryst. "Unless they''re a Gleam of course." He looks back at Kryst then adds with a condescending attitude, "Which I wouldn''t eat without good reason." "I''d like to see you try, ya fat, smelly oaf." Kryst says with unconcealed hostility. "So, what''s a Gleam?" I interject in an attempt to diffuse any more tension from increasing between the two of them. Crod merely shrugs. "Smart fairy''s." "Pffft! Wrong!" Kryst crosses her arms defensively, "We are providence touched. A coalesced sliver of the Faewylde given form here on the mortal plane." "What does that mean?" I ask. "Trying to explain it to you won''t do much good, I mean how would you explain a sunrise to a blind man? Or perhaps a better analogy a blind squirrel?" "Well could you try for us?" Cinnamon says with a bright expression, her ears perking, "I would like to know too." "Alright, fine." Kryst pushes away from the edge of the cart, "You two do know what Mana is right?" "Sure." I say with pride."Well, umm... Mana is...uhh"Help me, Obi-Wan Kenobi. You''re my only hope. "Well, it is this sort of Force... and it is what gives a Jed-- uhhh magic-user their power. It''s an energy field created by all living things. It surrounds us and... penetrates us; it binds the galaxy together." Kryst looks at me for a long moment then nods her head with a smirk. "Yeah. Actually that is pretty close. Nice summarization, Brian" Thank you, Mr. Lucas. "Anyway," she knits her tiny fingers together and holds them up for both Cinnamon and I to see, "The Mana of the material plane and the Nature of the Faewylde are closely intertwined. Fairy''s are born from a kind of... precipitation between the connection of the two." "Precipitation?" I raise an eyebrow. Perhaps we have a lost in translation situation happening here. "You sure that''s the correct term that you''re looking for?" I ask. "Yes, it''s exactly what I mean. Now don''t interrupt. " Kryst looks around then flits over to Cinnamons bag and dives into it. Her small shapely butt sticks out as she roots around to pull out Cinnamons tin drinking cup and waterskin. She hefts the waterskin and unplugs it pouring some water into her hands. "Think of your average fairy as a dew or raindrop of the Faewylde." Kryst captures a single large water droplet in her hand and drops it into the cup. "Well, a Gleam like myself would be a downpour." She then upends the skin, squirting out water until it fill the cup and overflows. That still didn''t really clear up much for me, or why it seemed to be alright to keep these ''dumb'' fairys as some kind of slave or pet but I decide to leave the topic alone for the moment. "Gosh, that''s so interesting." Cinnamon coos. My Pop-pop has told me a little bit about fairy''s. That they are really important for the environment. They help trees and plants grow, and pull life energy to areas that have weakend from time or clamity to heal the land. Things like that. I just know he would love to talk to you about that sort of stuff, Kryst." "I doubt that, Butter bunny." Crod huffs. "Huh? What do you mean, Icky?" "Redtree always had a fair number of fairys. Drawn by the tree, I suppose. And there was a pretty strict limit to hunt and catch them because they were beneficial. But over the past few months they really started to flock. Wasn''t too much longer after that the tree started getting sick." Crod says. "What?! The Redtree is sick?" Kryst wings buzz furiously. Crod gives a nod of affirmation, which sends a handful of flies scattering from his dirty mane of hair. "They say that with so many fairy''s around they were sucking the life out of it or something." "What a absolute load of crap!" Kryst says, an knife edge to her voice. "If anything those fairy''s were trying to help Her." "I''m just telling you what I''ve heard." Crod shrugs. "What happened to them?" I ask. "Most were caught and shipped out. For awhile there we had a real glut of them flying around." Crod licks his lips. "They were super cheap. I put on more than a bit of belly from that." I shudder at the thought and see both Kryst and Cinnamon do the same. "I think there''s still a big load of them over on the Skydock. I tried to buy a few but they are an order for an airship." "Is that why Pop-pop is here?" Cinnamon asks her bunny tail doing its cute double twitch. "Because of the fairys and the tree?" "Yeah, he has been trying to figure out what was wrong. Didn''t you know?" Crod asks. Cinnamon shakes her head. "No. I just heard he had come here." "I''m pretty sure that he was the one who told the council to suspend the fairy hunting limit and see that they were all rounded up." Crod says, "You know, to stop them draining any more Mana from the tree." "Oh did he now?" The icy glare Kryst shoots at Cinnamon makes my blood run cold just from proximity. "That can''t be right." Cinnamons voice is meek. She nibbles her lip nervously and stares down into her hands, eyes darting, lost in some inner turmoil. Private thoughts shaking the view of her parental figure to its core. Without thinking I reach out and place my hand on hers. She looks up and as our eyes meet I squeeze her hand in mine. She gives me the smallest of nods and turns to Kryst. Her voice strengthens with conviction. "If Pop-pop did that he must have a really good reason. I''m sure of it" Cinnamon says, "He has always told me that there needs to be a balance, that we all have to live in harmony with nature." "Well, you can ask him for yourself soon enough." Crod points ahead, "Welcome to Redtree." Chapter 17: Paint the Town... Brown? We leave the forest as it abruptly gives way to large sections of cleared land between us and town, the road winding and branching off to bunched together homes and small farmsteads. Though, as Crod contines to amble along, the main focus of my attention continues to swap between the huge skyscraper sized tree dominating the landscape in front of us and the triple moons pinned in the night sky. Within minutes we start to pass other travelers, many pushing similarly styled hand carts. Often with lanterns and other light sources affixed or held aloft to guide them in the twilight of the evening. One of them, a middle aged man with dirtied work clothes pauses to adjust the wick on his lantern and I can''t help but I marvel at the ever increasing clarity in my vision. The fact that I could quite literally feel my sense growing sharper in the fading light was simply another reminder that, although I felt as human as ever, I definitely was not one anymore. The man passes by and like a handful of the other travelers greets us with a polite nod, though I notice many simply go about their business. Shoulders slumped with long, drawn, tired looking faces. I easily recognize the look of a disgruntled employee returning home after a long days work. Seeing as I have had the same expression plastered onto my countenance after every shift, at every job that I''ve ever held, for the entirety of my work history. As we continue onward the acrid stench of smoke grows thick in the air and I quickly pinpoint the source, or more accurately, sources. Almost every one of the farms has a large bonfire burning in a cleared section of field. Farmhands shoveling piles of trash from wagons to send flurries of quickly burning embers dancing into the night. Crod moves to the side of the road as a large wagon passes by and I see it is loaded with a huge pile of leaves; held secure by a sheet of tied down burlap. The driver turns onto a farm road offshoot and heads toward a field and one of the bonfires. I stifle the barest tickle of a cough, and even though the smoke stings my nostrils a tad I thank my lucky stars that I no longer have the wet toilet paper like constitution of my old body. By now I would''ve be wheezing and rubbing my puffy teary eyes to a redness level that''d make me look like I''d been watching a marathon loop of Hachiko: A Dogs Tale and Old Yeller, while spritzing my eyeballs with pepper spray. Cinnamon raises a hand and lets out a cute, barely perceptible sneeze and wriggles her nose. "Bless you." I say. She shoots me a bizarre look and sits upright in the cart."Why did you do that, Brian? Put a blessing on me." "Huh? Oh!" I fumble for a moment, a little taken aback by the question. "It''s just something that you say where I come from after someone sneezes." "What kind of weird Drow God do you have that would turn their attention to the mortal plane because of a sneeze?" Kryst pipes in. "I didn''t realize that you were devoted to a faith, Brian." Cinnamon says. "What? No, I''m not. I mean..." I hold up my hands. "Forget it. I take it back." "So, you don''t want to impart a blessing onto me?" Cinnamons ears droop. "Hey you might have lucked out anyway. Sounds like some sort of a God of disease if they are attracted by the sniffles." Kryst says, eliciting a squeak of worry from Cinnamon. "That''s not what I meant at all." I plead. "It''s simply a thing that you say to be polite. You know? It means something good." "Then why did you revoke it?" Kryst narrows her eyes. "Damn-it you little monkey fart! Will you stop that!" I point at the fairy angrily. "Hey! You''re the one who was tossing around blessings and then retracting them." She spits back. "What''s going on back there?" Crod turns his head about and in my mind I can see things escalating in a whole different direction should the tweaked morality of the Troll become involved. I pause for a moment wracking my brain. I had never really thought about the origin of the phrase or its connotation. The only thing that seemed logical was perhaps it was meant as some form of, pre-modern medicine, protection. A superstitious, dark age security blanket to ward off illness, seeing as a sneeze would be the most likely sign or precursor to a wide variety of infectious diseases. General Skill: Deduction: Success! Over the next few minutes I relay that bit of insight to my companions and the growing tension in the cart slowly abates. Crod merely nods and plods onward while Cinnamon goes so far as to thank me with her closed eyed smile and a quick hug. "Fine. But I''m watching you." Kryst points two teeny fingers at her eyes and then toward me. Seemly unwilling to let the topic drop, without having the last word at least. I pinch the bridge of my nose with thumb and forefinger and let out a sigh of frustration at how a benign statement could cause such trouble. "Oh goodness." I feel Cinnamons hand stroke my back in a soothing motion. "I think that he may be suffering some kind of spiritual backlash." "Well that''s what he gets for invoking higher powers without thinking of the consequences." I decide to simply keep quiet. Thankful that I didn''t say ''gesundheit.'' With my luck that would have incited some ancient blood curse feud between the four of us. ************* I had imagined the ramparts of the town to be immense fortifications, topped with crenellations and stoic guards patrolling the parapets. I am therefore rather disappointed in the barely three story stone walls draped in green banners with the large Red oak-like tree in its center. Even the guards look rather lackadaisical. Lounging as the trickle of townsfolk slowly move through the gates. Their feet and wagon wheels churning the now much deeper, thick mud of the road. The one sight that does gain my full immediate and undivided attention however, is the towering, humanoid shaped, mass of iron and steel standing just inside the gate. Bulky, red painted armor plates, studded with oversized screws; layered protectively over steampunk styled pistons and heat-blued exhaust port pipes, cover its thirteen foot tall tank-like frame. Character knowledge comes to me in a rush and I immediately realise that I''m getting a look at my very first Wargear. Locked onto its shoulder with bolts the size of a fist sits a single short barreled cannon. An open view gravity feed magazine, filled with a half dozen one liter soda bottle sized cannon shells juts from the top of the deadly looking weapon. If the gun and the machines powerful, oversized four fingered metal fists weren''t enough of a deterrent, a single bladed axe also sits within arm''s reach. A sharpened coffee table sized slab of what I image is battleship plate steel hooked up to magitech engine block; a series of pipes and exhaust ports trail from the back, all connected atop a traffic sign sized metal haft.Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work! While I continue to admire the mechanical marvel Crod pulls us to the side road and one of the guards standing next to the Wargear motions toward us with a wave. The machine twists in place and the knight helm head swivels about to regard us for a moment. It nods to the guard, who, after waiting for a wagon to pass by, crosses the road with a hurried step. ¡°Allo there, Croddie.¡± The guard says with a double finger tap to his forehead and a smile. ¡°Evening, Arve.¡± Crod unhooks himself from the shoulder strap harness and tosses it into the wagon. Clearly in his early twenties with brown, curly hair and a cheerful face, Arve is clad in the same stylized armor as the other guards posted at the gate. A heavy dyed red leather, the buckles of which are designed to look like polished silver leaves. A sword and a couple of pouches sit on his belt with ivy scrollwork stitched into it. Even the halberd that he and one other guard wield have a matching decorative ivy embossing down the haft, just below a blade with a leaf-like tang on its back edge. ¡°Wasn¡¯t expecting you tonight. Everything alright at the Twinwater?¡± Arve asks. Crod only gives a grunt and nod while turning to poke in the cart. Glancing toward us the guard makes a thumbing motion in our direction as he continues his conversation with our Troll guide. ¡°Whose this now?¡± ¡°Some friends from out of town. They were headed through so figured I¡¯d give them a lift.¡± Crod says lifting a iron lockbox out of the back of the cart. ¡°Beside had to drop off the bridge take soon anyway. Figured I¡¯d go tie on a few the Drunken Wizard.¡± ¡°You will end up putting them out of business with that tolerance of yours.¡± Arve says with a smirk. He gives us another once over and I have to wonder if perhaps I had been a bit hasty in my initial assessment of the guards apparently idle attitudes. The look lingers a bit longer than required on Cinnamon, though, judging by the friendly grin on his face, most likely for a different reason then when he had cast his observant stare over me. Finally his eyes rest on Kryst. ¡°Good evening, m''am,¡± He says with a smile toward the fairy. ¡°I don¡¯t know if Croddie here has told you but we have had some issues here in town with fairy¡¯s of late.¡± ¡°Yeah, some back-assward crap was mentioned.¡± Kryst snorts. ¡°Ahh, okay, good.¡± Arve clears his throat and leans his halberd against the side of the wagon. ¡°Well, just so that you don¡¯t get hassled I need to give you one of these.¡± He reaches down into a pouch at his waist and pulls free a small strip of green cloth with a tiny metal buckle that reminds me of a zip tie. ¡°Policy here in Redtree is that any owned fairy¡¯s or, ahhh, Gleams like yourself need to be tagged.¡± Kryst practically growls but marches forward and hops onto the edge of the cart with an agitated buzz of her gossamer wings. ¡°This is why I hate coming into human towns.¡± Sorry m¡¯am. I don¡¯t make the rules.¡± Arve shrugs. She snatches the sash away from the guard, angrily looping it about her waist and feeding it through the buckle so it sits about her hips like a belt. ¡°Never have to deal with this sort of pithgalt in elf or beastkin villages.¡± Whatever Kryst said makes Arve respond with a short throat clearing cough while Cinnamons cheeks redden and her ears lower. Crods grin, however, stretches even wider and a chuckle like he is gargling wet marbles rumbles from his throat. **************** With the gates behind us we make our way through the city, and once more I am underwhelmed. The streets stink of earth and moldy rot, the cause no surprise. There are leaves everywhere. In the streets they have been crushed underfoot into a thick spongy bed of loam while the roof tops, that I thought were all painted in a matching shade of brown, actual have gained their coloration due to their crust of tree dandruff. Dozens of men and women continue to work into the evening hours. Shovels, and hoes scraping the ground to push and gather leaves into massive piles. Tucking them into alleys or on the corners of street intersections in preparation of the wagon and cart journey to their waiting foliage funeral pyres. Even the tree that looked so majestic from a distance I now see is riddled with white veins of ash white scale and flaking bark. A sickness that twists along the building sized roots that wind throughout the city. Writhing like varicose veins they continue up the massive trunk and into the mighty boughs high overhead. Where, in stark contrast to the still vibrant red tree top, the dark brown leaves on the underside continue to fall like steady, umber hued snow. The mood in the cart has grown steadily more somber. Especially from Kryst who looks about, lost her own private thoughts. More than once I attempt to start up a conversation but she answers with curt statements and replies that leave little to no room for continued banter. "This is good, Icky." Cinnamon finally points down a road and reaches over to give a small tug on Crod''s cow-like tail. "We can walk from here." Crod pauses at the side of the road and we all pile out of his cart. After Cinnamon has a few parting words I pass on my own thanks for the lift and I turn to retrieve my bags. A clawed hand on my shoulder stops me. "Not so fast there, Trigger." Crod reaches into the back of his cart to lift his still busted fishing rod. "What happened? You need to make good on our deal. As it is I let you all slide on the bridge toll." "Oh yeah, Sorry about that, Crod. I''m not going back on my word. I just got distracted is all." I accept the fishing rod from the troll and roll it over in my hands, accessing the damage I had caused. Sure enough I can see a knot of line clumped on the spool and a dangling lose spring hidden just under the covering. Magitech: Success! Taking out my tinkering kit I use the tiny set of tools within to remove the housing and reset the spring. It''s still a little out of shape but it connects well enough. Pulling the knot free I snip the line on either side with my dagger and simply flick the mess of tight wire away. "What the hells are you doing? You gone and cut my line." "Silence!" I flash up my hand in a zipping gesture. "This next part requires the utmost in concentration. For the powers I now call on are not ones to be trifled with. Even one such as I who has studied for many hours, nay days! Rolling the dice of twenty and tens. Consulting the rules and charts in the guiding books, to uncover and learn the secrets to become a master of dungeons. Yes! Even I do not dally with such magical forces without showing the proper respect to such powerful primal invocations." Unlocked: General Skill: Performance: Success! General Skill: Performance vs Crodrick: Success! General Skill: Performance vs Cinnamon Butter: Critical Success! General Skill: Performance vs Kryst Thunderfist: Fail! From my peripheral vision I see Kryst roll her eyes, but Crod leans forward watching intently while Cinnamons eyes dart nervously between me and the fishing rod. Pulling a little extra line free I replace the housing and hold the ends of the line together between my thumb and forefinger. Mend cast on Quicksteel Fishing Pole: Mana cost 2. The line knits together under my fingers and a I feel the spring twist back into its proper shape. "And now I say the magic words." I pause once more for dramatic effect, "Ala peanut butter sandwiches!" I make a flourish with my hand over the spool and then rubbing my fingers together release the repaired line with a flourish, wishing that I could add in a puff of smoke and a burst of flash paper to the act. Cinnamon lets out a gasp and covers her mouth with a hand while Crod whistles and takes his rod back. Winding and inspecting the line. "Say, that was pretty sharp." He whistles through his jutting teeth then slaps me on the back with a blow that nearly knocks me into the side of the cart. "Ya know? Around the docks they''re always looking for people with skills in Magitech and the like. I''m pretty tight with some of the higher ups in the G.U. too. I could probably put in a good word, if you are looking for work. " "Maybe. What is the G.U.?" I ask. "The Goblin Union, of course." Crod says. I stare at Crod for a long moment unsure whether he is screwing with me. Insight vs Crodrick: Fail! Then again I am looking up at a bridge caretaker troll so an organization comprised of goblin stevedore''s really doesn''t seem that unlikely given the circumstances. "I''ll give it some thought and let you know." I nod my head, "Thanks, Crod." "Don''t mention it." He glances over toward Cinnamon who is hauling the last of the bags from the back of the cart. I''m about to go assist her but with his hand on the back of my neck and over my shoulder Crod pulls me close. "Little word of advice?" He lowers his voice to a bare whisper. His breath curling my nose hairs with stank I prepare for the inevitable ''If you hurt her they will never find the body,'' or some other thinly veiled, colorful threat. Instead his beady eyes soften. "We trolls aren''t connected as strongly as fairy''s and the like but it''s a little know fact that we share a link to the ''Wylde too." He whispers, "Your Gleam friend had it right, something is definitely up with her Gramps." Crod nods toward Cinnamon and then to the gargantuan tree. "This ain''t natural, so if you, Butter Bunny and that little hard headed speck start poking around looking for answers? Which I can guarantee they are going to do. Well, you just watch your back, eh?" I nod unsure what to say. "Right then. Night all, see you around Butter Bunny." Crod says with a wave. "Bye, Icky." Cinnamon returns the gesture. And with that the troll gives me a final stinging smack on my shoulder, turns and walks away into the night. Chapter 18: The Facts about Fairys From outside ''The Crossed Arrow Inn'' looks both pleasant and well maintained. With stacked logs and marble stone detailing making up the majority of the outer architecture. Like many of the other structures we have passed during our cart ride, and subsequent short walk, I do notice signs that magitech is utilized in this building too. An overly complex looking techo-steam styled generator sits tucked around the back of the Inn; slowly moving pistons and turning gears visible from our vantage point on the, relatively cleared of leaves, street. The three of us head inside, passing under a sign that has been fashioned from painted metal; illuminated by a handful of flickering lightbulb-like orbs, two large arrows have been bolted on top of each other in the shape of an X to symbolize the taverns name. As we enter, the bartender, a thin human with a close trimmed, salt and pepper beard and matching hair, smiles at us and, although preoccupied with a few customers at the counter in front of him, still manages give a friendly wave before he points us toward a empty table near one of the windows. Picking our way through the busy inn we drop our bags on the floor and tuck them under the indicated table. Several thick carved wooden beams support an upper floor and the glowing orbs that hang from them, and at strategically placed points on the walls, cast the room in a soft yellow light that reminds me of a family friendly restaurant. I pull out Cinnamons chair which garners a coo of thanks from her but a roll of the eyes and a teeth sucking tisk from Kryst. Charm vs Cinnamon Butter: Success! A quick inspection of the time stained tabletop confirms the lack of any sort of size appropriate seating for my second diminutive companion. However, a idea pops into my head. Before I take my own seat I search about in my pocket and pull out the collection of smooth round rocks I had pocketed yesterday from the bottom of the pool in which had birthed me into this world. Inventor: Success! Sorting through I find a couple with a usable shape and, after a quick dip into my tinkering kit for a couple of washer like metal rings and place them on top of each other to form a miniature stone table. I pull one of the empty shotgun sized shell casings from my belt and set it at the edge of the table then indicate toward the makeshift, fairy sized furniture. Charm vs Kryst Thunderfist: Success! Kryst gives a snort but I catch the tiny smirk on her lips as she hops down from my shoulder and takes the offered seat leaning an elbow onto her own private table. Finally, I plop down into my own chair and take the time to look the tavern over. Though packed to near capacity the dining hall has a welcome, homely feel and my spirits soar. More than anything this was what I was looking forward to. Sitting down in a fantasy tavern with my, though it might be a bit premature to call them such, adventuring group for the first time. The primary clientele looking to be passing merchants or traders. Most sit clustered around the several long tables in the centre of the large room, while smaller more intimate tables like ours, seem to be reserved for couples and handful sized groups of friends; with lone travelers taking up the bulk of the stools at the bar. Humans look to make up the majority of the patrons, though I spot what is undoubtedly a dwarf, judging by the bushy rust-orange beard and burly stature, puffing away on a pipe at the far corner of the bar. A strange group of humanoids, who have a similar look to Cinnamon, save that they possess cat-like features instead of rabbit, crowd in a semi-private booth; clearly midway through their meal, while a few milky skinned elves pour over papers and sip away at glasses of dark wine at another table. As I scan the crowd I spot something that makes my blood boil. At a table near the elves there sits a girl in her late teens reading a book as she picks at a bowl of fruit. Attached to her wrist via a glittering silver chain is a collared fairy. "What''s tickling your tailhole, Too Tall?"Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. I regard Kryst with a glare and realize my distain toward the slaver must be clearly written on my face. "That." I say with a snort of irritation toward the girl casually flipping through the pages of her novel. Kryst gives the pair an apathetic look and with a small shake of her head braces her elbows on the edge of her tiny table. "You really haven''t had much experience with fairys have you?" Kryst asks. "What does that--" She cuts me off with a wave of a couple of fingers. "Go on. Take a good look." Kryst motions toward the girl and her ''pet'' with a nonchalant head bob. I follow Krysts instructions and study the pair. Now upon closer observation of this new fairy I could see the dissimilarity between her and my companion immediately. Though just as shapely and strikingly attractive as the Kung-Fu fighting Kryst who was about the height of a foot tall Barbie doll, this other one topped out at the height of a six inch Gi-Joe action figure. She even moved differently. Darting along the table in quick erratic movements it scuttled up the woman''s arm to perch on her shoulder, its head darting left and right not unlike a squirrel or chipmunk. Gingerly it reached over and batted at the young woman earlobe. She flinched and gave a smile like one would when tickled. Pausing in her book she reached to her plate, plucked a cherry and offered it to the fairy. The little creature snatched it greedily and began to chomp away, juice dribbling on its chin. The woman smiled and stroked the side of the fairys tiny face with a finger then returned her attention to her book. "She''s happy." Kryst gave a derisive scoff, "Content in the blissful ignorance of her base, simple-minded cognizance." The tiny fairy did indeed look cheerful. Every so often it would glance over toward us, particuarily at Kryst, even while continuing to chomp away at her huge fruity meal, stretching her neck out to receive the scritches of her ''owner''. Still I wasn''t one hundred percent convinced. "How can you tell?" Are you communicating with her somehow? Telepathically?" "Of a sorts. They don''t have the capacity for speech, and the link that fairys and gleams share," Kryst bobbled her head from side to side, "Well, it''s more empathic than telepathic." "Either way I still don¡¯t see how that makes it alright for a person to keep another as a slave." I question. "Would it be alright for a farmer Minotaur to own a couple of cows? How about Cinnamon , could she have a pet rabbit? Maybe those Catagat over there." Kryst points to the felonoid ''Thundercats'' in their booth. "Would you mind if they had some kitty cats?" "That''s... different." I shake my head. I mean it was different wasn''t it? "It''s not slavery and a fairy isn''t a person. It''s more like animal husbandry or beekeeping." Kryst says, and with a grit of her teeth adds, "In a way that Troll brute was right." She immediately holds up her hands toward me in an effort to defend herself from what was obviously a painful thing to concede, "Believe me. I''m not completely condoning the practice. Just like I don''t condone locking up fish in little glass bowls, or clearing miles of forest for lumber. But a non-gleam fairy isn''t like us." She makes a motion to herself and then the rest of the clientele of the tavern. "They may look like a little person to you, but..." Kryst rubs the back of her head and exhales a long breath. "That fairys conform to the common aesthetic of the majority of the civilized cultures is no mere coincidence." "In a way our appearance is a sort of defense mechanism, conferred by the will of the FaeWylde. Like how the young of pretty much of any species look so cute. You know? How these helpless little defenseless things sort of stay that way until they can take care of themselves. Well, it triggers some sort of primal protective drive from most thinking, feeling, beings." There is an objection on the tip of my tongue and I''m about to open my mouth as I recall the horrors of my world, but, I refrain from saying anything. On a whole she was right. It was far more likely you would find a person who was appalled at abuse that you would someone who would act upon or condone such behavior. "And fairys can''t be bred like most creatures can. We are birthed in nature and that makes them even more valuable. So it makes little sense to mistreat or harm them. In fact, a happy fairy is a healthy fairy. Many mages and other mana manipulators keep them around to help restore their depleted mana more quickly. So in that way they are usually treated far better than they would be fending for themselves in the wilderness." AirshipTech: Success! I get a glimpse in my mind''s eye of a habitat like room, filled with bright colorful flowering potted plants and walls covered in writhing ivy. Glowing shards of crystal placed in holders around the room, shimmering sigils etched in wood, metal plates and cables that feed power throughout the Airship. Delivering mana to the spells and magi-tech used to empower the vessel to defy gravity and sail through the air. And there, darting amongst the leaves were tiny fairys. Chasing each other playfully and nibbling on plump, ripe hanging fruits and from birdfeeder like contraptions. "Huh." I rock back a little and try take in the sudden rush of visual enlightenment and verbal explanation from Kryst. Cinnamon is strangely quiet throughout the conversation and I''m about to ask her to weigh in, to see if she has any other thoughts or views she can share to expand upon my growing comprehension when a shapely serving girl wanders over with a pleasant smile and a bowl of salted nuts that she places onto the table. "Evening. Welcome to the Crossed Arrows." She says in a practiced delivery. "Will you be looking for a meal or just drinks tonight?" She pauses for a moment when she spots Kryst at her own miniature table and I can tell she is stifling a chuckle at the sight. "Meals. And I think we will be needing a room as well." I reply with a smile. "Sorry, I didn''t catch your name?" "It''s Nicola." She replies, her smile growing a bit wider as she regards me, "Now, you will have to see Mr. Roth about rooms. I think we are pretty full at the moment, but I can certainly help with dinner." Chapter 19: Meat me Halfway Pushing back from the table with a sigh, I rub my full stomach and regard the skeletal remains of the abnormally large chicken on my plate. The meal of the crispy skinned, herb encrusted bird; coupled with spicy roasted potatoes and fresh mixed vegetables, all washed down with generously filled cups of ale, had been one of the most delicious meals I''d ever eaten. I begin to speculate on the possibility that perhaps my new drow taste buds were in fact heightened in relation to my old human ones too. It did make sense that levels of perception would apply to all five of my senses. Cinnamon is still nibbling away at her selection of cooked and raw vegetables while Kyrst polishes of the last of her two drumsticks. The second having been offered by me when she had finished the first and made a comment that she was going to order another. The fairy should have been dragging around a belly that reached to her ankles with all the food that she had consumed, yet it was still as lean and taunt as ever. "Where the hell do you put all of that." I marvel as she drops the chicken bone onto the tea-saucer Nicola had delivered earlier. The makeshift plate had been piled with the same selections of foods that had made up my own meal, save that it was smaller portions. Though it had still been ridiculously oversized compared to Kryst. It was, by all accounts, physically impossible that she could have eaten as much as she had. But, I had observed the fairy consume a roasted potato that was, relative to her, the same dimensions as a basketball ball. Along with two Flintstone cartoon sized chicken legs, a mix of a dozen or so softball peas and corn kernels, and a full shotglass and a half of ale that would be comparable to a office cubical waste bin. "Cinni, are you seeing this?" I ask turning toward the playboy bunny beauty. In stark contrast to Krysts all but licked clean plate, Cinnamon still has a rather impressive pile of food remaining. Still chewing on the same turnip slice that she''d started at least five minutes ago she has been oddly quiet ever since we left Crod and I start to wonder if, as horrible as it is to imagine, that the troll might hold some sort of attraction for her. "Cinnamon? Are you alright?" I prod. She continues to stare through me, lost in thought. To my side Kryst lets out a Ahhh and bangs her, now only quarter full, bucket of ale down. The clink of glass on stone breaks Cinnamon out of whatever self induced trance she had been in and she locks eyes with me. "Oh, umm... I''m sorry, Brian. Were you talking to me?" "Yeah. It''s just. It seems like something is bothering you." I indicate her plate, "You have barely touched your food." "No. I''m fine. I suppose I''m just not that hungry is all." She replies meekly, but I swear that I hear her tummy growl. "C''mon, Cinni. You only had those nuts and berries, and that last bit of sandwich all day. You need to eat." "I''m fine." She says placing the mostly intact turnip slice back onto her plate. She fidgets with her fingers for a moment. "Brian , do you..." Cinnamon glances toward Kryst who has started to once again chug on her ale. She lowers her voice a bit and I see a nervousness creep into her eyes. "I have a question. When we were with Icky earlier, well, umm, I was wondering. Do you think..." My heart is jack hammering in my chest, dreading the next words. Was she about to ask my opinion of him? Or worse if I thought that Crod, the smelly, oafish, cannibalistic, yet strangely enough somehow still endearing, TROLL, would be interested in her? In a romantic way?! "A pleasant evening to you, Sir. And more importantly, ladies." The voice interrupts Cinnamon mid question and I let out a breath I didn''t realize I had been holding. "I do hope that the meal was satisfactory." I instantly recognize the man as the bartender, and as Nicola had informed us earlier, the owner of the Inn, Mr. Roth. "It was excellent. Thank you." "Happy to hear that." He smiles, "Now, I was told that you would be interested in a room for the evening, is that correct?" "It is." "Well, we are quite full. But I do have a few beds free in the common room or there is a single room that''s still available." I pause. I hadn''t actually thought of sleeping arrangements, just the fact that I would be able to sleep or ''Jelf'' meditate on an actual bed. Would Cinnamon and Kryst be alright sharing a room? I guess the proper thing would be letting the ladies take the single and me bunk in the common area. Though, I''m not sure if I am comfortable sleeping amongst a group of strangers. In many of the games I''ve played a night in the common room was an open invitation for the GameMaster to spring a chance encounter of some type in the relatively safe environment that an Inn provided. Or worse, a sure fire way to lighten a players coin purse with the help of a sneaky pickpocket. Coin I had precious little of at the moment. "We''ll take the single." Cinnamon pipes up surprising me. "Alright. The room will be seven gold. However, that includes both breakfast, and the dinner that you just had." He motions to the plates. I balk a bit at the price but see that Cinnamon is already reaching below the table to her belt. "Actually. I was wondering." I motion to Cinnamon to pause and reach over and pull one of the meat bags out from under the table. "We had done some hunting today and bought down a Drayger. We still have quite a bit of the meat left. Would you be interested in perhaps a sale or trade." "Drayger?" The innkeepers eyes widen a bit and he leans over to inspect the meat. "Quite a bit you have here. Are you looking to get rid of the lot?" "If you''d be willing." He scratches his chin for a moment and gives a few clicks of his tongue in thought. "I couldn''t give you coin. I have standing orders with a few of the butchers and fishmongers after all. But I could do trade. If you are in town for a bit I could offer you three days in a single room, plus three meals per day."This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. "How about five days? And the meals, that''s for myself and my companions here?" General Skill: Trading vs Mr.Roth: Fail! He pauses and looks over the plates in front of each of us. Lingering for a moment on Cinnamons vegtable platter and Krysts tea-saucer. "It does, but I can''t do five." "Four then?" I offer, "And drinks included with the meals?" General Skill: Trading vs Mr.Roth: Success! "Two drinks per meal, and ale only." He smiles extending a hand. "Deal." We shake and he reaches into a pocket to produce a iron key which he places on the table in front of me. I almost let out a squealing ''eeee'' as it looks exactly as I think a medieval key should. As long as my hand made of pitted dark iron. "You will be in room three. Up the stairs. Just look for the door with the same symbol." He says tapping the key and the three arrows embossed on the wide flat head. "I''ll bring your bags back after I store this, but if it''s anything else you need just let me know." "Will do." I''m all smiles as the innkeeper Roth walks away, feeling much better now that I have secured food and lodging for a least the next few days. "Thanks, Brian." Cinnamon says. "Ain''t no thang, ladyfriend." I grin. "Yeah. Really nice work." Kryst says dismissively, "Now then, it¡¯s past time we got down to some real business. Namely dealing with the fact that you, Too Tall, still need to pay your dues." "Pay my dues?" I give her a snort, "Whenever some wild-eyed, twelve inch tall manic looks me crooked in the eye and asks me if I''ve paid my dues, well I just stare that little sucker right back in the eye, and I remember what ol'' Jack Burton always says at a time like that: have you paid yer dues, Brian? Yessir, the check is in the mail." Kryst stares at me, her expression scrunched up in total, agitated, incomprehension and Cinnamon merely blinks a few times while I nod to them both, plastering a smarmy grin on my face. "What in the hells do you go on about?!" Kryst throws her arms to either side in annoyance. I suck my teeth, more than a little let down that my near perfectly timed and executed tribute to cinematic gold, falls flat. "Never mind." I sigh, "What is it that you think I owe?" She holds her shot-glass upside down and bangs it on the table. "A drink, remember?" "I owe you a drink? For what?" I leer over my elbow at her. "For keeping that Crod guy busy."Kryst folds her arms across her shapely chest and plops her feet on her table. "I never agreed to that, and besides... you didn''t!" I counter. "You know we can quibble back and forth all night about who said what and who did and didn''t live up to their end of a bargain struck in good faith." Kryst rolls her hands in the air then follows up with a shrug. "But at the end of all of that needless jibber jabber is the fact that you still owe me a drink." "I just got you dinner and two drinks, never mind the same thing three times a day, for the next four days." I play along with her and I find myself actually enjoying the ridiculous fake debate. It feels like I''m sitting with a couple of my old friends. An experience I haven''t had for years and one that I sorely miss. "Bah! That don''t let you off the hook. I want a REAL drink." Kryst says playfully pushing the glass toward me with a foot. "One that you''re supposed to pay for." As good as I''m feeling after my successful negotiation, and the friendly banter with the fairy, I really don''t mind. After all, I''m in a real fantasy tavern, where I just made a deal for room and board with the innkeeper by trading collected monster meat from my last adventure. It didn''t get much more straight up ''Role Play Game'' goodness than that! "Fine." I snatch the glass and stand, putting on an exaggerated show of being annoyed. I make sure to drop the act when I turn to Cinnamon, giving her a pleasant smile and offering inflection. "Would you like anything from the bar, Cinni?" "No thanks, Brian." She replies, though I catch a slightly odd, timid look in her eyes as she answers the question. "And make sure it''s a real drink, not some kinda hoity-toity elf concoction." Kryst calls out as I start to maneuver my way between tables. When I reach the bar I see Nicola is standing behind it, I suppose taking over as bartender for Roth while he was dealing with us. She sidles over when I belly up between a pair of empty stools. "Another round, sailor?" She asks with a sparklie eyed grin. "Not for me." I hold up Krysts shot-glass then tap it on the heavy wood counter-top. "Don''t ask me how, but apparently I owe the literal, little lady, a drink." I scan my eyes along the bottles on the shelf behind the bar. "Supposedly something with a bit of a kick." Nicola turns and taps a candy apple red bottle with a what looks like a similarly colored, transparent liquid inside. "Dragonfire Whiskey?" "Sounds perfect." I smile. "So, what brings you to town?" she asks, quickly cleaning the shot-glass before starting the pour. "Just passing through." I turn to indicate the bunnygirl back at our table and see that she and Kryst are engaged in conversation. "Cinni has family here in town." "She from Hutchhollow?" "She is. How did you know?" "Most of the lepuri that pass through are." Nicola nods, "Or are headed there." Replacing the whiskey bottle on the shelf she turns about and puts the full shot in front of me. "What about you?" She flips a her hair to the side and leans on the bar "Are you from..." Nicola places a hand on mine and giggles, "now, please don''t be mad if I pronounce this wrong, Despthfell?" Unlocked: Free Background Skill: Regional Knowledge - Despthfell The name pushes a bit of innate knowledge forward. Despthfell An ancient magical cataclysm plunged this continent forevermore into a state of perpetual gloom. As a result it is the common ancestral birthplace to all of the Shadowkin; races that have adapted and now thrive in this land of eternal semi-darkness. Whoa! That''s pretty damn helpful! I even get glimpses in my minds eye of what must be the darkened landscape of ''my'' homeland. Cities built from carved blocks of onyx and crystal. Jagged obsidian mountains that jut high into the air. Fields of gently swaying green speckled luminous grass. Small purple and white furred deer-like creatures, bounding though forests of immense mushrooms and alien looking fungi; all glowing in a rainbow of bio-luminescence. I push the images out of my mind and focus on the present, and the question from the attractive woman in front of me. Is that how you say it? Getting the hang of it I once again allow my seemingly innate knowledge to seep into the forefront. Unlocked: Free Native Language: Shadowspeak / Darktongue Unlocked: Free Native Language: Elvish Unlocked: Free Dialect: Drow x0 Free Native Languages Remaining "No, No. Your pronunciation is spot on." And I know that it¡¯s true. I smile and hope it doesn''t come across as the goofy, bashful, doofball grin that I feel inside. It''s more than a little strange, and crazy cool, to have this woman flirt with me. I shoot a somewhat guilty glance over towards our table. Cinnamon isn''t anywhere to be seen but Kryst is still seated at her tiny stone table set in its center. My mind flicks back to the conversation that Roth had interrupted and I get a little anxious. Did she head out looking for Crod or something? "Ahh, as for me? I''m afraid that story will have to wait for another time." I say holding up the drink, using it as an excuse to get back to my companions. "I''ll hold you to it." She smiles. I take out a silver and indicate at the glass to which Nicola nods. I slide it, and a few coppers over as a tip. "Thanks. Don''t be a stranger." Quickly making my way back to the table I stop at not bothering to sit I glance around in a silent question to Kryst. Before I even ask she nods towards the stairs at the far side of the inn. "She''s gone up to the room." Kryst points at the shot glass in my hand and makes a waving motion to hand it over. I do so resting it on her tiny table. Her eyes widen and she licks her lips gleefully as she studies the dangerous looking alcohol within. "She asked if I wouldn''t mind hanging down here for awhile. You know, give you guys a little privacy." Kyrst says lifting the glass. "Really?" My heartbeat doubles and I swallow the quickly formed lump in my throat. "Oh yeah." Kryst shoots me a naughty wink. "So you better leave me some coin, or maybe set me up with a tab at the bar. Unless you want me to head up to the room after just one drink." Chapter 20: I Put a Spell on You I was glad that she hadn¡¯t run off looking for the troll but now a different fear grips my guts and twists as I stand outside of the inn room. I had been studying the three arrows embossed onto the metal plate for way longer than could be realistically construed that I was trying to determine if this was my proper room number. Heart thumping, my palms slick with nervousness I grab the handle and push inside before I can second guess myself any longer. Silence greets me as I step into the room, though our gazes lock as soon as I enter. Looking nervous, Cinnamon sits on the edge of the bed. With her corset gone the light, white cotton shirt tents out from her full, taunt breasts. Making it look like more of a cutoff midrift exposing shirt; her small waist and the tops of her tight green and black striped leggings visible under its bottom edge. Damn, she looked so frigging hot. A stacked, killer body. Long and lean with curves in all the right places. The room isn¡¯t too large, though it does contain what appears to be a fairly well-stuffed bed and a nightstand sized set of drawers. Across from the foot of the bed, on the other side of the single window, Cinnamons leather jacket has been casually tossed over a chair that sits tucked under a small desk. I drop the last of the bags in the corner and kick the door shut. I hadn¡¯t played this particular game with that many women before, but the potential rewards for success in this not so random encounter could be more than I could dare hope to dream. ¡°Brian?" Before I can say anything, she blurts, "I didn¡¯t know that you knew how to do magic.¡± ¡°Huh?¡± I rock back on a heel, totally not expecting that to be her opening line. Was this part of the seduction game? Was she trying to disarm me somehow? "You fixed Ickys fishing pole with magic. Does that mean you can fix other things?" Standing from the bed she quickly covers the short distance between us. "Uhh... Sure, I suppose. I mean, I think that I can pretty much mend anything. As long as I have the--" Her lips interrupt me as she throws her arms around my neck, crushing herself to me in a hugging kiss and I swear I hear the ''wooooo-ing'' of a studio audience in the back of my mind. Recovering quickly, lips parting, I return the kiss and the embrace, my tongue teasing back and forth with hers. Her tight body crushes against mine as her small hands grip at the side of my face and then my chest. I take it all in, not wanting to miss a moment of the pleasure sparking through my body. The subtle scent of skin, her silken hair between my fingers. It was all so fresh, new. And incredibly hot. Everything builds and my stomach knots with lusty need. She moans into me, her body responding even as my own does. "Wait, Brian.¡± She pauses her breathing heavy as she pulls back from me, her breath coming and short gasps. Hell in a hand basket! Frowning in confusion, my pants painfully tight, I look at her. This was the moment. She was turned on and tentative but, wanton and willing. Was it simply her shyness holding her back? Or was it something else? I was determined to find out for sure, one way or the other. ¡°Cinni.¡± Pushing down the lust, my hands find hers. Even as turned on as I was I felt something more than just that primal male, animal instinct to bone the beauty. In even the short time we had spent together I had grown to really like Cinnamon. With sincere affection, I give her hands a gentle squeeze. ¡°Talk to me. Tell me what¡¯s wrong. No games, okay? Is there something holding you back from being with me?¡± ¡°I just...¡± She lets out a low breath. Her eyes blink, growing wet at the edges. ¡°I do want too but...¡± she pauses and I think she¡¯s about to pull away but instead her hands twist in mine taking me by my wrist she hugs my hand to her chest, over her heart. ¡°Before you can be my buck." She presses on, guiding my fingers over her sternum. Biting her lip she steers my hand lower, under her cotton shirt then back up again against the smooth skin of her stomach, until my palm rests between her bountiful orbs. Through her shirt, I see her irresistible, tightening nipples. "Cast your spell on me." she begs. For the briefest of moments the request seems strange, but with my hand trapped between those delightfully firm, yet equally soft, warm feminine orbs, logic is the last thing on my mind. I do as she asks, concentrating on my hand more than anything. Pouring my focus as I caress in a circular motion. Mend cast on ???: Mana cost 2 . Cinnamon pants, her eyes closed, breath comming short and shallow. Her hands leave mine as she lets me take control of their journey, slipping my hand down to the bottom of her shirt. "Now, I say the magic words." I breathe, committing to the fantasy. I slide my hand back up, still under her shirt, over her silky flesh. "Abracadabra," I whisper, lifting the cottony fabric with a hooked thumb until those, oh so magical parts; forbidden fruits that have long been the object of infinite fascination for me, spill into view. Lightning shatters my brain as I gaze on. These were not some high definition streaming video or tricky photo-shopped manipulated imagery, but real, full, gloriously magnificent, nipple peaked, perfection. Boobs. I''m left stunned. Hypnotized by a sight, that in all honesty should be accompanied by the striking of a band and a round of applause. I don''t know how long I stare in wonder at the steady rise and fall, but it''s long enough that Cinnamon lets out a nervous coo that breaks my revelry. Insight vs Cinnamon Butter: Success! Ears down, the flush of her cheeks. The way her eyes dart down then up to meet mine. Timid in the avoidance of meeting my gaze. All let me know that she is more than a bit nervous about my staring.Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site. ¡°Do you... umm... I mean, are they...?¡± Cinnamons voice trails off. I decide to quash any fears that she may have as quickly as I can. If actions speak louder than words then I intend for mine to be a sonic boom. Taking the closest into my mouth I draw her to me in a tight embrace, moaning my appreciation in my own closed eyed smiling, sigh of approval. Charm vs Cinnamon Butter: Success! Her response is better than I hoped and she gasps, arms wrapping around my neck and shoulders, back arching to pull me closer. Slow it down Brian. Don¡¯t rush it! With herculean effort I pull back, to take her in again. Suckling and nibbling. Trying not to show any sort of favoritism between either one of the beautiful, bouncing twins. ¡°Raise your arms, honey bunny.¡± I finally manage to instruct, one hand holding the bunched material at the nape of her neck. She does and I pull her top free. Sending hair spilling over her shoulders, framing her face in silken, gold tinged brown. I lean forward again to tease a series of love bites onto the skin at the nape of her neck before venturing lower. Unable to resist returning back to the burying of my face in sweet, sweet, bountiful boobage. Like it''s on an exploration mission, as it surely is, my hand travel''s down her lower back. Brushing over that cotton candy soft bunny tail of hers, past her waist. As I clasp one bubble like cheek, I hear Cinnamons breath hitch in her throat. My other hand fights with the buckles at my waist, letting instinct guide the deft manipulation of the straps on my armor. My gun belt falls to the ground along with my armored leggings. One hand on her ass I bring her into full body contact, kissing the corner of her mouth I lift Cinnamon from the ground. Holding her aloft I step forward and place her on the edge of the bed, a hand on her shoulder guides her onto her back, leaving her looking up at me. The sight of her there, the slight nervousness so clearly written on her face, biting her lip and looking up to me, sets my blood boiling and even more blood flooding below my waist. My fingers fight at the buckles of the armor covering my torso. Dropping it to the floor with a solid thump of leather and metal. I take more time with the softer fabric. Slowly tugging the shirt over my head. Stripping seductively I drop the shirt then hook my thumbs at my waist to slowly peel the trousers down my hips. Charm vs Cinnamon Butter: Success! With my, much more personal, pistol now un-holstered I step free of the heap of clothes on the floor and move closer, pressing Cinnamons legs wider as my thighs move past her knees. I give her time to take in the ¡®Full Monty¡¯ sight of me. Standing there between her legs. Light playing over my glistening skin, highlighting the obsidian Adonis I now was. Cinnamons eyes travel down my body. A look of fascination sparkling in her soft hazel brown eyes as the drift toward my lusty intention, quite literally, pointed like an arrow in her direction. ¡°Do you like what you see, Cinni?¡±I ask placing my hands at the V of muscles at my hips. My finger tips nearly touching the object on which her eyes have locked onto with lazer like focus. She nods shyly. ¡°I need to hear you say it.¡± ¡°Yes. Brian.¡± She coos, still mesmerised, ¡°I l-like it.¡± Elation floods my body but I somehow refrain from punching my fist in the air with a cry of celebratory triumph. How was I supposed to know my snake would be a rabbit charmer! ¡°I want to taste you.¡± I say, adding a bit more of a rough, sexy gravel to my voice. ¡°Would you like that?¡± Cinnamon hesitates, breath catching in her chest, pushing her breasts out even more full. Before she nods. ¡°Say it.¡± ¡°Yes...¡± Cinnamons eyes turn heavy, her lips parting. ¡°Please t-taste me, Brian.¡± Insight vs Cinnamon Butter: Success! ¡°No.¡± I say. Cinnamons eyes go half-lidded, and her hand''s fist at the blankets and bed sheets, twisting them with need. A soft moan escaping her lips as I lean over her and reach forward to cup the back over her neck drawing her upright. ¡°Not yet.¡± She''s begging for me! Heart pounding in my chest, still a little unsure but letting instinct steer my movements I gently, but insistently, urge her to her feet. Her small hands move toward my groin but with control I didn''t know I had I use my elbows to keep them at bay. "No." I say firmly and she lets out a barely perceptable whine that has me severely second guessing my decision.Keep it cool, Brian you got this! Never have I had any experience like this with a woman, never mind a knock-out, centerfold bodied beauty, like Cinnamon but somehow I know what she wants. What will drive her fully over the edge. I take her place on the bed. Directing her to stand between my knees I''m extreamly tempted to guide her to her knees and let her taste something of mine. A touch of uncertainty makes me pause. So instead I take the opportunity to look at he. The indent of her navel. The smooth play of toned muscle of her flat stomach. I lean forward, breathing her scent. Kissing around her belly button, I dart my tongue playfully before moving downward, setting my lips on the damp, tights covered, molten hot spot between her legs. Her thighs tighten and squirm as I hold her hips still. She coos again and embarrassment flushes her cheeks, making her doe brown eyes sparkle. ¡°Talk to me Cinni." I say, hands kneading her buttocks as I deliver soft teasing kisses to her groin. ¡°Brian?¡± Nervousness makes her ears dip. ¡°I like you... like this.¡± ¡°Yeah?¡± I deliver another kiss, ¡°Like what?¡± ¡°In control and...¡± her hands sink through my hair and over my shoulders, ¡°focused on me. That you want to be my buck.¡± ¡°Cinni baby, I¡¯ve wanted to ¡®buck¡¯ you ever since I first saw you in that cave.¡± Charm vs Cinnamon Butter: Success! Cinnamon moans. Her hands claw at my shoulders as her hips twist. Holding her waist in a firm grip I grin, then lie back onto the bed pulling her along with me. Sliding her hips up until she is straddling my waist. Drawn on top of me, her eyes go wide as she feels the burning steel of me press insistantly between her legs. Cinnamon leans back, giving me a delicious display of her goods as she gawks down to what is sandwiched between our groins. The look of lust tinged with just a bit of fear I see in her eyes makes me twitch in anticipation. Like she has been exposed to an electrical shock the movement of my member elicits a slight jump from my playboy bunny. Quickly followed by a gasping coo of approval. As her fingers trace along my chest and rock hard abs my own hands caress up her sides to cup at her breasts once more, my thumbs, rolling as my fingers kneed. "God, you are beautiful, Cinni." Her breath comes faster with my words and she closes her eyes pushing her chest outward crushing herself into my palms. Hands cupped over mine. Encouraging me onward. Letting my thumbs play over her nipples, I relish in her rapid breaths. ¡°You feel me, Cinni? That¡¯s because of you. For you. God you¡¯re hot. So damn hot.¡± I moan. and Cinnamon responds with even more hip-grinding pressure of her own. "Yes! Oh, Gods, Brian!" A euphoric smile on her lips Cinnamon humps and stirs on me with a fervor, her hips grind as she bites the corner of her lip. The thin cloth between us unable to diminish the molten heat between our intimate parts. "You did it! It wor--" Cinnamons voice trails off abruptly. My stunned gasp of fright catches in my throat when I look up and into the dark brown eyes of the large, very much NOT humanoid, bunny rabbit held aloft in my outstretched hands. "WHAT THE FU--" I find my voice a split second before the door bangs open. "HA! GOTCHA!" Near the height of the door handle, wings buzzing as she hovers in the wide open doorway; one arm wrapped around a nearly empty shot glass balanced against her hip, I see a stupidly grinning, alcohol flushed faced, Kryst. "See you two?! That''s why you need to lock th--" Krysts eyes go wide as she glances between my, surely still stunned, face. The twitching nosed, bunny rabbit dangling above my chest. And finally, the solid, full mast dark steel of my groin. "Kryst! Wait! It''s not what it looks like!" I plead even as she flits to the door handle, tugging it backward with urgency. "No. NO! It''s fine! I''ll just..." She shakes her head, frowning, "I''ll come back later. Like, much later. After you two are, uhhh... done?" Chapter 21: Mo Bunny, mo Problems I have been sitting in silence for nearly an hour. The only sound in the room the steady crunching from Cinnamon, or perhaps now more appropriate, Bunnimon as she continues to devour the leftovers from her dinner. I had found the plate of unfinished food on the table; after more than a bit of a pacing about, coupled with hands to my head, fingers running back and forth through my hair, in mind swirling panic. Puzzling over the sudden shifting of her form ever since it happened. Is this how the lepuri have sex? If so I wanted nothing to do with that! No, thats a stupid notion. Maybe I did something wrong and triggered some kind of defense mechanism? But what kind of dopey defense was turning from a obviously capable humanoid into a defenseless bunny? Then again there are those stupid goats that faint when surprised. Or the way a possum will play dead in the face of danger. And do ostritches really stick their heads under the sand to ''escape'' predators? Damnit, Brian! Whatever, it all made little to no sense. And the way that Cinnamon was acting and talking. That she was broken in some way? I shake my head and try not to think about it anymore. I should¡¯ve known when I saw the rabbit back in the Naga cave, but I simply didn¡¯t put two and two together. I can¡¯t really blame myself though. After all who would? She¡¯d change back at some point, I was sure of that. But when? Bunnimon, finishes the last of what I assume is her comfort food carrot and hop-waddles over to where I¡¯m sitting on the bed; where I have been positioned ever since recovering from my initial period of shock and confusion. The cute bunny lays her head across the top of my thigh. Ears flat down her back and my heart breaks. She looks so sad. ¡°I know, Cinni.¡± I say in a soothing voice. ¡°Don¡¯t worry. We will fix whatever this is.¡± I reach down and stroke her head and soft fluffy fur. I¡¯m not sure if she understands me, but her ears give a little twitch. Slowly, Bunnimons eyes close, and judging by the steady rise and fall of her small abdomen, she is either falling asleep or has already done so. Poor thing. She must be exhausted. It¡¯s a not so subtle reminder of just how absolutely pooped I am as well. Leaning my back against the wall I rub my eyes with thumb and forefinger in an attempt to remove the sting from the edges. It doesn¡¯t work, so I decide to close them as well. Only for a few seconds, to give them a short rest. Darkness envelops me and I enjoy the calm of the black for a brief moment. You are Resting. Ahh, poop. I give a little sigh and a shrug in my minds eye. Well, since I''ve slipped into my meditative state, I decide to give a look over my character sheet and take my mind off of my rabbit girl problems.
Name: Brian Brantly REMAINING CHARACTER POINTS: 12
Race: Dark Elf Class: Gunslinger Background: Craftsman, WarGear
Stats Skills Special Abilities Complications
Inventory Crafting Quests Combat Journal
I''ve racked up twelve character points already? Nice. I¡¯m just about to open the combat journal and see just where they came from but quash the idea when I notice that there is a new listing. Crafting? Time seemed to go pretty quickly in my ¡®Jelf¡¯ trance and looking over the fight with the Drayger and perhaps even Kryst and Crodrick the Troll might eat up a little too much of my limited time. Besides, if I really wanted too I¡¯m sure I could always revisit at a later date. I¡¯m much more interested in checking out this newest addition and what exactly it may entail. Narrowing my focus to the Crafting tab I get a basic information pop-up. Crafting: Downtime Activity By undertaking this activity a character can craft various items based on their skill sets, available materials and the expenditure of character points. Bonded Items: Once crafted a ''Bonded Item'' can be recrafted/ recovered with a limited expendature of time, materials and (unless multiple duplicate items are made) no additional Character Point Cost. If attempts are made to sell ''Bonded Items'' they will be henceforth converted to ''Accessory Items'' and all associated rules apply. Accessory Items: These creations can be crafted at a greatly reduced Character Point Cost with the condition that should they be sold, broken or lost in any way all associated points and materials are lost as well. Once crafted an ''Accessory Item'' can be recrafted by the expenditure of all the initial requirements of crafting time, materials and Character Point Costs. Oh hells to the yeah! I had no idea that it would be some kind of a point based purchase for me though. That little bit of information puts a damper on my initial excitement. But, many games systems utilize rules that dictate the player has to spend both money and experience points to craft items; especially the sorts of creations that have any sort of in-game benefit. It seems that the same holds true here. I puzzle over the ''Bonded'' verses ''Accessory'' item descriptors. I suppose that a ''Bonded item would be something more of a signature weapon or piece of equipment. Perhaps tied into the initial character concept. Like Spider-mans web shooters or Luke Skywalkers lightsaber. Sure they could be taken away, and quite often were, but it was pretty much guaranteed that they would get the item back in some way. That''s pretty cool. I open the selection and am immediately presented with a couple of options.
Pistol Goggles
Amazing! During our trek toward town I had come up with the idea of making some kind of glasses to cut down on the, borderline painful, glare the sun had on my sensitive drow eyes. And it seems that this ¡®system¡¯ had actually taken note of it. Focusing on the goggles option I receive an info block. Blackglass Goggles: +5 pts Flash Defense: Sight These goggles protect the wearer by reducing the duration or negating imposed conditions due to bright light or visual based special effects or attacks. Required Materials: Lenses: x2 Blackglass / Frame: Misc. Heavy Leather If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement. Required Craft Skill: Inventor Crafting Time: 5 hrs / 3:45 hrs Remaining Bonded Item Character Point Cost: 2 pts Accessory Item Character Point Cost: 1 pts I pause after reading over the description. Strange, I don''t recall finding anything called Blackglass. Though, in the hope that I had scrounged something that might make suitable lenses, I had sorted through the bag of crystals that I had collected in the Naga cave. Funny enough there were two that had been nearly perfect. They must have been the Blackglass materials I needed. And I had spent a bit of time shaping them with the tools from my tinkering kit. So that explains the deducted hour or so from the time requirement. A quick focus brings up a description from my inventories. Bag of Assorted Crystals: Mundane: This item can be used to pull forth up to 10 mundane pieces of crystal. Once a type of crystal is chosen from the pack it remains. Contents: x2 Blackglass Crystals. Uses Remaining: x8 Whoa! I hadn¡¯t thought of that. Though it does make sense. It seemed that my collection of crystals works similar to my ¡®Adventurers Kit¡¯ in that I can use it to pull out various types of crystals as needed. That bit of knowledge opens up a whole new range of possibilities. Perhaps I could create something like a magnifying glass or a telescope. Or better yet a pair of binoculars. I¡¯d have to puzzle that out later. The more pressing matter was dealing with the issue of my annoying light sensitivity. I read over the description again. Ugh! Goggles? I really don¡¯t like the sound of that. I''m a hot, dark elf gunslinger after all. I can''t be looking like some dork, walking around with big ol¡¯ googlie safety glasses strapped to my face. In fact, I had even started working on the Drayger claws during our rest breaks to use as a possible frame. Though, I hadn¡¯t gotten very far in the carving. I concentrate on the entry once more and attempt to manipulate the description; picturing in my minds eye a pair of bad-ass looking shades befitting an action hero. Stylish Dark Sunglasses: +5 pts Flash Defense: Sight +3 Presence +1 Charm Sleek and sexy these stylish sunglasses not only add an air of mystique but they also protect the wearer by reducing the duration or even negate imposed conditions due to bright light or visual based special effects or attacks. Required Materials: Lenses: x2 Blackglass / Frame: Black Drayger Claw Required Craft Skill: Inventor Crafting Time: 8 hrs / 5:50 hrs Remaining Bonded Item Character Point Cost: 5 pts Accessory Item Character Point Cost: 3 pts I give myself an imaginary slap on the back, followed up with a double fist pump. It worked! Sure the cost increased but it seemed I can actually make changes to what I would like to craft. For those additional characteristic and skill point bumps it wasn''t too expensive. In fact It proibably equated to at least half the cost compared to if I purchased them inherently. Damn if that ''Accessory Item'' option isn''t super tempting.But even cheaper I ever lose or break them those points are gone for good. Eeesh! A risky proposition. I really don''t like the idea of losing character points. Yeah, decision made. It didn¡¯t seem like my innate racial vulnerabilities would be going away anytime soon and making my bad-ass shades a expendible resource just seems foolish to me. With a mental grin I accept the ''Bonded Item'' and then focus back on the other entries.
Pistol Sunglasses
I open pistol next and am rewarded with the description of my crappy gun. Rusty Pistol: Mundane: Ranged / Shots: 1 / Misfire: 20% / Equipped Damage: 2d6-1 Lethal. Repair: Replace pistol grips with carved Drayger bone. Reduces Misfire: 5% Required Materials: x2 Drayger Bone Required Craft Skill: Gunsmith Time Remaining: 5 hrs / 5 hrs Character Point Cost: 0 pts Thank goodness for small favors. It might take a little while to make the repairs but the least I could get that misfire chance down a bit and it wouldn¡¯t cost me any points either. It didnt seem to have a Bonded or Accessory listing for this. Perhaps since it was a repair it didn''t have that as a possible rules choice. Did that mean I could use the handles on a different gun later? I''m about to accept but a message floods my consiousness. Racial Ability: Lightsleep. I let out a silent sigh. As awesome as this lightsleep ability is. It''s damn annoying! I have yet to be able to get an uninterrupted chance to spend my points! You are no longer Resting. My eyes snap open as I come back to awareness. Cinnamon must have reverted back into her humanoid form while I was traced out as her head is now resting in my lap. I briefly wonder if that was what triggered my lightsleep but a rattling at the door makes me think otherwise. A moment later the door swings open and I see an extremely inebriated Kryst all but fall from where she had been hanging off from the door handle. She lands somewhat gracefully, perhaps that Kung fu fighting muscle memory of hers kicking in, but then topples over onto her butt. Her dirty, and most likely repeatedly filled through the night but now empty, shot glass clatters across the floor and I stop it with a foot. Kryst staggers into the room and points an accusing finger at me before letting out a strange snorting exhale from her lips. ¡°Would you is... doing is wrong, Ba-rian. You know? It''s not... not right. You need to respect nature and not going you go screw it.¡± Kryst shakes her head so vigorously she throws off her balance, ¡°That''s bestiality! You know that?! It¡¯s not right... it¡¯s not right.¡± ¡°Will you keep your voice down.¡± I whisper and follow up with a shuush-ing motion and a finger to my lips. Sliding my legs out from under Cinnamons head I place the pillow underneath it and stand. She moans a little and turns in her sleep but otherwise makes no further movements. ¡°I thought you were cool, man.¡± From the center of the room Kryst waggles a finger up at me as I step over her to ease the door closed as quietly as I can. ¡°I thought... This guy?¡± She bobbles her head up and down, ¡°This Guy. You know?¡± She shrugs. ¡°Alright calm down, Kryst.¡± I say as I reach down toward her. ¡°Don¡¯t touch me, you... you, buck-nasty!¡± She says shoving at my palm but only succeeding in throwing her own body off balance to stumble in the opposite direction. She goes down, but then rolls to her feet again. Insight vs Kryst Thunderfist: Critical Success! Though her slurred words and body language speak to just how intoxicated she truly is. I see something else. Something disguised in those slow, erratic, wobbling movements. "Great." I suck my teeth in frustration. I have little desire to test myself right now in another round of fisticuffs against regular Kryst, never mind some kind of fiary-fied drunken monkey style fantasy martial art that she''s trained in also. ¡°I tried to tell you before you ran out. It¡¯s not what you think. Something happened and..." I kneel down and whisper, "I think something is wrong with her.¡± We both shoot a look over toward Cinnamons sleeping form. "Going off some of the stuff she was saying I think maybe it''s some kind of magic, but I don''t know what." The fairys eyes narrow a little at me but Kryst must see the concern on my face because she seems to relax a little. "So you two weren''t getting all freaky by..." She makes a lewd movement with a fist and her other hand. "No!" I stage whisper-shout, "C''mon. Jeeze, what the hell is wrong with you?!" Kryst makes a blowing raspberry sound with her mouth then gives an over exaggerated drunk shrug. ¡°I dunno. You¡¯re weird, man.¡± She states. ¡°Whatever. ¡± I sigh. ¡°Discussing this with you when you''re this sloshed is pointless anyway, Kryst. We can all talk about it in the morning. Maybe you can even help to figure out just what is going on. Until then, why don¡¯t you sleep it off.¡± I pull open the top drawer of the dresser and make a quick bed out of my folded shirt for the fairy. "Fine." There is a pause and Kryst suddenly grasps her mouth and starts to sniggle and gafaw behind her palm. Her face turning even brighter red. "Ohh... You we''re all hard-up like..." She lifts a hand above her head. She then covers her mouth with her hand again and starts laughing histerically. "Yeah, tell me about it." I lament. "You have a ... you have a nice big'' un though, you know." Kryst snickers, "Here, lemme see it again." She stumbles forward to where I''m kneeling and reaches up to grope my crotch. "Hey! What-- Stop that!" I say in a low firm voice, standing to get away from her tiny grasping hands. "Ha, ha! Tease!" She takes a long inhale of breath and steadies herself for a moment. "Man. I''m gonna miss stuff like that." She says quietly. "What?" "Nuffin." She waves her hand in my general direction then turns and stumbles toward the nightstand. "Okay, okay. I''m drunk. I''m going...going to go sleep." I reach down to lift her but she smacks my hands away, and buzzes her wings angrily. ¡°I can do it!¡± She burble complains, then spends the next minute stumbling and flopping about on both the floor and a couple of feet in the air in her attempts to get up to the top of the nightstand. After a particularily noisy thump and crash into our travel bags I once again reach down to, slowly and gently, scoop her up. This time Kryst all but goes limp in my hands and is asleep almost as soon as I place her down in her tiny private bed and cover her with a sleeve as a makeshift blanket. I take a few moments to let the quiet settle in the room. I still feel quite tired, somehow knowing I need at least an hour or more in my trance to completely rest my tired body and refresh my mind. But, with my exhausted, and drunk, companions both down for the count I decide to stay up a bit longer. This time I do remember to lock the door and then retrieve my tinkering kit. I pull out my various supplies, and flip the metal plate down over the glowing globe of light fastened into the wall above the desk. Although the room is plunged into darkness my eyes immediately adjust to see everything in crystal clear clarity. Crafting: Downtime Activity Before settling in to start my crafting work I glance between the two ridiculously hot females with whom I''m sharing a room. I fire off a silent prayer that I''m a quick study at learning how to deal with the complicated problems of fantasy women. Chapter 22: Bed, Bath and Beyond Elven Lightstep (Passive): This ability allows an Elf to walk on any surface and not leave signs of their passing. -7pts Purchase? Y/N Finally making up my mind I approve the purchase. It uses up all of my remaining points, but the wording of the passive ability seems like it could prove suitably versatile in a wide variety of circumstances. You are Rested. You have healed: 1 HP Nice! I healed up a bit. Not nearly as quickly as some ''games'' but I''ll take whatever I can get. Perhaps it has something to do with my Vitality or maybe my Recovery stat. I make a mental note to try and gain some knowledge on that during my next Jelf time. Brian Status: HP: 7 / 12 Stun: 22 / 22 Mana: 10 / 10 You are no longer Resting. As I feel my meditative trance come to an end I inhale a deep lungful of air and stretch; sending a delightful tingle through my back and legs with the pull of muscle. Opening my eyes I immediately blink with the glare of the sunlight streaming through the window. My body does feel rather stiff. Most likely from the ringing slap Crod had delivered to me yesterday, and the various cuts and scrapes sustained in the fights at the campsite. In an attempt to adjust my vision I rub at my blurry eyes with the back of a hand then I glance over our room. Along with the various leftover bits and pieces used in my overnight crafting, my tinkering tools still lay strewn about on the table; exactly where I had left them. I had worked away throughout the night, stopping only briefly to answer to the call of nature and grab a snack from the leftovers on Cinnamons plate. But it seems more like a half remembered dream. Perhaps the ''Downtime Crafting Activity'' was similar to my trance. It certainly felt like I had tuned out and switched to an autopilot like mode while my body and mind acted on their own accord; focused solely in a zone of creation before, too exhausted to continue any longer, I''d climbed onto the bed in the barely predawn hours of morning. Cinnamon had been next to me on the bed when I had finally settled in to catch up on my own rest, but she''s now nowhere to be seen. My initial reaction of alarm calms however when I see that her bow, quiver and bags are still sitting in the corner of the room, along with my own. Kryst isn''t in her nightstand drawer-bed either. As I sit up to place my feet on the floor, I see her on the window sill, standing in a locked pose, her tiny form blurred by the sun rising over the mountains in the distance. The sight paints a serene picture that I''ve seen time and time again in all manner of entertainment media. However, it''s red leaves, not cherry blossoms dancing through the open air behind her, and the usual sound of cicadas has been replaced with the notes of singing birds in the composition of this ambient soundtrack. Slowly she slides one leg out, her balance shifting like the water in those lava wave motion machines that I''ve seen in the windows of metaphysical better health stores at the mall. With fluid movements she glides her hands in counterclockwise circles, turning her body and shifting effortlessly into form after form; a beautiful dance of some kind of well practiced martial arts Kata. As interested as I am in finding out where Cinnamon has disappeared off to I hold my tongue until she is finished. Unwilling to interrupt the mesmerizing display of artistic and athletic skill from the brash, often irritating, and apparent lush, of a fairy. Kryst inhales a long breath, drawing her palms up, before reversing her wrists at neck height, and like a physical manifestation of her exhale, pushes outward to draw the ritualistic movements to a close. "Morning, Too Tall" she says before turning about. "About time you rolled your tight, lazy butt out of bed." "Stop checking out my ass." I ignore the dig but enjoy the appreciation of my glutes all the same time. "Where''s Cinni?" I ask. "She went down to grab some breakfast. Said she would be right back. I told her that we all need to talk. Strangely enough, she figured that you in particular might have a few questions for her." Kyrst says, "Seems she''d rather chat up here in private instead of downstairs in a busy tavern." I nod my understanding. As curious as I was to find out just what was going on I was not looking forward to addressing the bizarre issue either. So, in an effort to take my mind off of my bunny problem until I absolutely had to deal with it I decide to strike up some conversation with Kryst instead. "That was really impressive." I say indicating her and mimicking some of her previous movements with my fingers. Kryst studies me for a moment, and I can tell she is sizing up the statement and looking for a possible slight. "It''s a centering form. To bring the spirit and the physical, the mind and body into a unified focus." "That''s really cool. I''ve always been an admirer of the ''Arts." I say, "You know, I took some Karate classes when I was a kid. Never got too far with it though. Only a yellow belt." I grin, "During what was supposed to be a sparring session, this kid, who had to have been some kind of genetic Cro-Magnon throwback. Built like an elementary school linebacker, I''m talking huge." I give a head shake and chuckle at the recollection, "Anyway, he damn near broke my nose and gave me a black eye. After that I dropped out and I never went back." "I have no idea what half of what you just said means." She releases a annoyed sigh," But I believe the overall gist in that nonsense you spouted was, you got your butt kicked and instead of taking your licks and learning how to properly defend yourself, you simply gave up." "Not exactly. I mean, sort of, but..." "I''m guessing that''s when you decided to pick that up?" With a scoff she points toward my gun belt hanging on the side of the chair next to me, "Cause why better your mind and body. Learn technique and how to harness your inner strength. To achieve any sort of enlightened state, when you can just be like, Pakow Pakow Pakow." Hopping about comically she makes finger gun motions. "You are such a huge tool." I roll my eyes at her childish antics starting to see through her abrasive commentary for the friendly ribbing it was meant to be. "You''re one to talk. Normally I''d say anyone who hauls a weapon like that around is trying to over compensate for a... less than lengthy sword. But I suppose that theory doesn''t hold up when it comes to you, now does it." She gives me a mischievous grin then snickers at my obvious discomfort. "Seriously though, if you are interested, I could probably show you a few forms. In case you ever again have to face down another aggressive adolescent." "Screw you." I laugh. "Don''t think I''m your type. Maybe if I put on a fuzzy animal costume though?" Kryst smirks. "Speaking of. I''m surprised you''re able to remember anything, hell, I''m surprised you can even stand upright considering the absolute dumpster fire condition you were in last night." I grab my now finished shades from the table and quickly clean the dark crystal lenses with a scrap of cloth. "Sometimes you have to give the mind a break." Kryst replies. "I''m fine now. When you know your body like I do the expulsion of a weak poison like alcohol is--" She cuts off mid boast as I slip on my newly created sunglasses. "What the hells are those?" "They''re shades, baby." I say, leaning back against the edge of the table and crossing my arms over my bare chest with a proud smile. "Well, they look ridiculous." "Do they." I say. "Yes." Kryst gives a tiny snort. I edge the dark sunglasses down my nose slightly with my index finger and peer over the edge. With an upraised quirk of an eyebrow I drop a bit of base into my voice. "Do they?" Charm vs Kryst Thunderfist: Success! Her eyes lock with my own for a brief moment before she sucks her teeth and glances away, a sly smile tugging the corner edge of her lips. A click of the door interrupts my mental pat on the back and precedes it opening. A moment later Cinnamon pushes into the room with a large wooden tray balanced in her arms. She stiffens a bit and her ears droop in that shy endearing way of hers when she spots me. "Morning, Cinni." I try and sound cheerful in the hope that it will ease the obvious apprehension and awkwardness knotting her shoulders. "What''s that you have there?" "Ohh umm...morning, Brian. I got us all breakfast, some clean cloths and a kettle of hot water. So we can all freshen up a little bit." Cinnamon says indicating the tray in her hands as she steps fully into the room. "That sounds fantastic." I shoot her a smile, "You''re a real gem." Readjusting my shades with a forefinger I step over and take the heavily laden tray from her. I catch her staring at my new sunglasses. "They help with my light sensitivity." I say.This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report. "Oh? Neat." Cinnamon says giving me her closed eyed smile. "They are very fetching." "Thanks." The compliment strokes my ego a bit and I can''t help but puff out my chest a little while sliding my stuff over on the table to place the tray down. Next to the steaming kettle there are a couple of empty bowls, a few face cloth sized towels and breakfast. I take it all in, grinning at the fantasy fare and thinking back to all the times I''ve described similar meals in the games I''ve run. There''s a plate piled with assorted scones, buttered with various colored jams. A small assortment of fruits, vegetables and cheeses. A heaping bowl of thick oatmeal topped with honey coated nuts and lastly a single cup, and shotglass, filled to the brim with what smells like apple juice. "Sorry I couldn''t carry any more," Cinnamon says, "but they said we could get refills on the oatmeal and drinks when we bring the tray back down." "You kidding? This is great." I tear off and pop a bit of scone into my mouth enjoying the strange but delightful taste of whatever fruit the jam was made from. "To tell the truth this should be plenty. Unless you include the bottomless pit over there." I joke indicating the fairy with a thumb. "Not my fault I have a healthy appetite." Kryst scoffs, "You try flying around all day and see how much fuel it takes to keep your internal fire going." We all share a quick chuckle at that. I was kidding of course. Although she seemed to be able to consume a impossible volume in relation to her size, it was still a fraction of what we ate. Taking a couple of the empty bowls I pour some water into each while Cinnamon retrieves the soap from her bag. I decide that I will try and look for a proper bath later, but for now, removing a bit of travel grime sounds like heaven. Lathering up a hand cloth I set about wiping away the dust and dirt of our woodland trek from my neck, face, arms and chest. My breath catches in my throat when I spy Kryst strip down to her birthday suit in my peripheral vision. I manage to keep my face forward and thank my lucky stars my new shades are hiding my eyes, which are straining against the corner of their sockets to watch the miniature martial artist de-robe and then climb over the edge of a water filled bowl; stepping into it like it''s a gigantic bathtub. "Ahhh ... that''s nice." Kryst says, lowering herself into the steaming water. "Kryst! What are you doing!?" Cinnamon says with more than a bit of shock in her voice. I take the opportunity to turn and give a full long glance over at Kryst, in the pretense of not knowing what Cinnamon is referring to. Ogling her toned body and fit form, committing the image to memory as she swishes the water around her before turning my attention, not quite completely, away in faux gentleman etiquette. "Oh relax, Cinni. It''s nothing that you both haven''t seen before. Besides, I saw Brian''s last night so I owe the perv a peak." She snaps her fingers in my direction and when I turn she points to the soap in my hands. Stunned at her attitude I pause before breaking off a piece and handing it to the fairy who immediately starts to rub up a bubbly mess in the water. "Don''t tell me you are still feeling shy around him. Especially after what you too were getting up to last night." Kryst says. Cinnamons ears are sent into an immediate droop and her cheeks flush. "It''s not that. It''s just... umm... I don''t know. I guess, you are right and all." She glances to me and gives me a nervous smile. "I''m just a little self conscious about getting undressed in front of people." "You shouldn''t." Kryst shakes her head as she continues to bath herself. "You definitely have nothing to be ashamed of with that figure. I mean look at Brian here. Poor boy can barely keep his eyes from devouring those corset cantaloupes of yours." "Dude?!" I say turning to look at the fairy squarely before adjusting my vision again. "What? It''s true." Kryst counters. "I mean ever since I met you two you''ve been sizing-up those things like they''re going to ambush you in a surprise attack." "Will you shut up?!" I toss my wet face cloth over both Kryst and her bowl. Covering her with the sopping material and hoping that my dark skin tone doesn''t show the same blush of embarrassment that has tinged Cinnamons cheeks. "Jeez, you people are repressed." Kryst mumbles pushing and pulling the wet towel until it splat-plops out and over the side of her tub. The next few minutes drags along in a long, uncomfortable silence and I take the time to put on my clothes, pack away my tools, and shamefully steal glance after glance at Kryst while we all eat; nibbling away at our tasty breakfast. "So what''s up with the sex rabbit thing?" Kryst blurts causing me to almost spit out a mouthful of scone. "What the hell, Tinkerbell?!" I squawk . "Why am I the ass for bringing it up?" Kryst says with an attitude dripping sigh. "I''m getting real tired of the tension in here. It''s beginning to tangle my tranquility." She inhales and swirls the water, closing her eyes. After a moment with no one else saying anything she opens them and with a scowl, points an accusing finger at my chest. "You should be the one who wants answers, since you nearly ended up boning a bunny." I don''t like the way she has broached the subject, but I do agree with Krysts assessment. Pulling the chair out I give a quick sigh and sit down then turn toward Cinnamon. "She does kind of have a point, Cinni." "I know." Cinnamon lets out a long exasperated sigh. "I''m real sorry about what happened last night, Brian. I know it must have been a real shock and upsetting for you but... I was just so embarrassed to tell you. Especially because I find you so..." Cinnamon shrugs. "Buckable?" Kryst pipes up with a chuckle and wink. "Yeah." Cinnamon voice gets mousey and she blushes a little. I clear my throat. Thrown off about these women''s aloof discussion regarding how do-able I was. Kryst snaps her fingers at me and points to the breakfast tray. With a sigh I slide it a bit closer so she can reach out and get what she wants herself. Though unintended on my part a consequence is getting a generous view of her as she stretches out to pluck up some of the food. "So does this happen all the time? Like anytime you try and be ... intimate." I ask turning away from the show of fairy flesh. "Unfortunately." Cinnamon nods, "If I get too... aroused, it tends to happen. Or sometimes if I''m given a sudden fright, too." She huffs and crosses her legs, propping her head up with a hand. "That''s what happened with the Naga. When it attacked me, I was so surprised that it triggered the transformation." "Damn, that sucks." Kryst says, and both Cinnamon and I bob our heads up and down in total agreement of the fairys overall assessment of the situation. "Anyway," Cinnamon continues, "I had gone back home to see Pop-pop hoping that he could fix it. But, then found out he was here in Redtree so that''s why I came. I mean I was still pretty embarrassed having to tell Pop-Pop about what and how it happens." "So when I found out that you were a powerful mage, I figured that I wouldn''t have to tell Pop-Pop at all, and since you can fix things, maybe I wouldn''t have to tell you either. I was hoping that..." She shrugs, "That you could just fix it with your magic and we could have... bucked." Cinnamon lets out a sigh so loaded with frustrated, wanton desire that it sets an unwanted pulse through my groin. It was already hard enough, no pun intended, dealing with the fact that Krysts naked and wet fitness model body was still on display. "Wait?" Kryst wrinkles her nose and leans back against the side of her bath bowl chewing away on a honeyed nut. "Powerful mage? What are you talking about, Cinnamon?" "Didn''t you hear before? Brian said that he had to study for years to learn the invocations to become a master magic user." Cinnamon says, nodding toward me. For a brief moment a dead silence fills the room, then Kryst lets out a nauseatingly loud guffaw laugh, splashing about in her bathwater. "What? What''s so funny." Cinnamon says looking to me while I run my fingers over my head and through my white locks. "Damn, girl. You made me drop my nut." Kryst snuffle snorts trying to stifle her mirth while lifting a finger to wipe wetness from the corners of her eyes. "That''s what he said." The words spill from my mouth before I realize and I immediately regret them. Kryst pauses for a heartbeat as her brain processes and finally catches exactly what I said, "Oh, that''s nasty!" She cackles, then breaks out in a another round of side clutching, boob bouncing, feet splashing, laughter. Cinnamons looks between us obviously confused and a wave of discomfort twists my gut as she looks toward me to explain. "I don''t actually know magic, Cinni. I mean I do, sort of. But it''s not like... ''magic magic'' like, a wizard or something." I don''t think so anyway. I pause thinking about it for a second before returning my attention to the confused bunny girl. "I can fix minor tears and breaks. Repair small items and stuff like that, but real magic?" I shake my head. "See, when I fixed Crods fishing pole before, I was just, you know, putting on a show. I wasn''t being serious about all that stuff that I said." "So you... didn''t study to become a... master of dungeons magic?" "Well. Not like..." I hesitate with a sigh. "No. Cinni." I say sheepishly. "Oh." Cinnamons barely audible whisper speaks volumes and makes me feel like an absolute heel. Insight vs Cinnamon Butter: Success The devastated look that passes over her face, the slump of her shoulders and the wet glisten to her eyes breaks my heart. I can tell that she feels terrible for falling for my silly little act and even worse for building up a hope in her mind only to have it smashed. And the laughter from Kryst, although no longer directed at her, clearly isn''t helping the situation. "Alright enough, Kryst." I harden my voice and while it takes a few moments the fairys laughter does die down. I move over and sit next to Cinnamon and take her hands lifting them to my lips to give them a quick kiss. "Come on now, beautiful. Chin up, huh?" "You must think I''m such a stupid, useless, dumb-bunny." She whispers, not meeting my eyes. "What are you talking about? Cinni you are one of the most awesome women I have ever met. I would still be wandering around lost in the woods if it wasn''t for you. " I give her hands a squeeze. "And what about these?" I say nodding toward the potion bottles on her hips. "Didn''t you say you made them?" Cinnamon bites her lip and gives me a little shrug. "Yeah. But that''s no big deal." "No big deal? To hell it isn''t. I wish I could make potions." I smile and release one hand to reach forward and cup the side of her face. "Not to mention I flat out owe you my life. Remember? You saved me..." I pause and glance at the naked fairy climbing out of the bath bowl. "Actually, no you saved us, from that Drayger thing." Kryst turns, and I can see she''s about to raise a hand to protest ''that she didn''t need saving'' but she catches my no nonsense glare and with a nonchalant shrug keeps her mouth closed. "Beside the fact you are one of the most gorgeous women I''ve ever laid eyes on. You know, where I come from they would call you a Playboy bunny. " I grin, "Which, I kid you not is a term applied to only the sexiest of ladies." "Stop it. Now you''re just being silly." Cinnamon pouts but I can tell she is intrigued. "I''m being one hundred percent serious." I give her a huge smile and a nudge, "That you would want to ''buck'' me? That''s like my wildest dream coming true. And I don''t like hearing my dream girl putting herself down like that. Okay?" Cinnamons ears perk up and she squirms a little. "Alright, Brian. I won''t." "Good." I smile."And listen I may not be some kind of all powerful magic man, but I promise you that you and I will figure this out. Yeah?" Cinnamon makes a little coo and then gives me her cute, closed eyed smile. I pull her close and place a gentle kiss on her forehead and then her lips. Not the lust filled tongue battles we had previously shared but the first, of hopefully many, caring hugging, kissing embraces. Charm vs Cinnamon Butter: Success! "Now. Then why don''t you tell us how this happened and maybe if we all put our heads together..." Cinnamon perks up a little at that and she glances between me and Kryst who has redressed and is looping her green ''fairy tagging" sash around her waist angrily. "Okay. Well, it all started with..." Her ears give a little twitch, "Icky?" "The troll?" I bite back a wave of anger, "What does he have to do with this?" Cinnamon shakes her head and points toward the door. "No. Icky is coming down the hall." A moment later there is a single banging knock on the door before it swings open wide and I see Crods massive, greasy green form crowding the entrance. "There you are!" Crod reaches down and grabs a couple of our bags tossing, them to me to nearly bowl me over with the casual strength behind the throw. "Grab your stuff. We''ve got to move. Now!" Chapter 23: On the Run "What are you talking about? Why would the cops--guard be after us?" I protest, dropping the second bag onto the bed which the troll has medicine ball pitched into my chest. I''m instantly transported back to high school P.E. with that prick David Delonzo constantly singling me out while playing dodgeball. Of course back then I didn''t have the cut pecs and washboard abs, so I doubt that tomorrow I''d be a walking bruise like I had been back then. Between poking his head out the door to look up and down the hallway, and volleying our belongings to us, Crod manages to gives a shrug of his muscular shoulders. "I dunno but it''s got something to do with her." Crod says, pointing an accusing claw at Kryst. "Me?" Kryst eyes widen. "What did you do?" I huff shooting an annoyed glare toward the fairy, "Did you get in some sort of trouble last night in your drunken stupor?" "Hold up you''re taking his side? Unless drinking a few sailors under the table is illegal then I''ve done nothing wrong. It''s you two who damn near broke the laws of nature!" Kryst buzzes angrily pointing between Cinnamon and I. "Umm... well, no. That''s not..." Cinnamon starts. "Quiet, Carrots. Grown-ups are talking." Kryst scoffs. "Hey, don''t go getting an attitude with her, you hot mess." We begin to launch into an argument, even Cinnamon adding in her objections, though her cute, meek voice is all but drowned out as Krysts and mine raise. "Hey?! Shuddap!" Crod bellows, immediately silencing all of our bickering. "It''s got nothing to do with anything that you may have done last night." He shakes the mane of hair about his shoulders in a motion that reminds me of a wet dog attempting to dry themselves. "Look we ain''t got time for all of this. You remember Arve, right? The guard at the gate." "Yeah, I think so." I say, crinkling my brow. "Good. Alright, well Arve works an evening and dark hour shift, see? So a few hours ago he swings by the Drunken Wizard. I was in the back cleaning up in a game of Kings Crown Flush." Crod pauses and with a monster grin reaches down to pat his bulging coin purse. "Real quick aside, highlight of the night? Bluffed a retreat from a Knights phalanx with a pair of Paupers." A pregnant pause fills the room while the troll grins at us with that hideous smile of his. "Crod, man! What does that have to--" I spread my arms wide. "Yeah! Right, right." Crod waves a hand dismissively, "Okay, anyway so Arve comes by and he tells me when he turned in his report and mentioned that he tagged a Gleam, he was pulled before the Roots and questioned." "The Roots?" Kryst and I ask in near unison. "The Roots are the guards elite." Crod says. "Like a S.W.A.T. team?" I ask. "I suppose." Crod scratches his chin in thought. "Nah. That''s more the guard who are the general peacekeepers. They''re the ones that will give you a good swat or smack down and an arrest. The Roots report to the council and are the ones usually responsible for digging up, uncovering and destroying any illegal organized underground activity. "Humm, guess it''s kind of a play on words." He mumbles, "Anyway they are expertly trained in both weapons and infiltration, and they use ''em to worm their way in and collect information so they can cut out the criminal element. So, less of swat and more of a slice team I''d say." He punctuates the statement with a slashing motion of his claws. "That''s not what I..." I''m about to clarify but close my mouth. Crod may not have understood what I meant, but he answered the question in a way that put these ''Roots'' into perspective for me. "Sorry, go on." Crod nods. "Now, Arves good people. He told them that you all came in through the gates with me, that you were friends of mine. But he didn''t know where we were staying or anything like that. Anyway, he is a mate and all, so he wanted to give me a heads up. Make sure I knew that I might be bought in for questioning." "And you are sure they were interested in Kryst? I mean, isn''t your... umm, Pop-pop on the council or something? " I ask turning toward Cinnamon. Crod shakes his head, "Couldn''t be anything to do with my little Butter Bunny. Arve didn''t know who you were, and I didn''t mention it to him either. He said the questions concerning you two were minimal, they we''re mostly just interested in the Gleam."This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it. "I''m sure if we talked with Pop-pop he could straighten all of this out." Cinnanmon offers. "Maybe." Crod muses, "He''d be at the Silverstone Citadel. But if you are planning to head over there is no question that you would be detained." "Okay, but, what if there is nothing wrong?" Cinnamons tail does a double twitch, "Couldn''t it be that they just want to talk to Kryst? To find out why the Redtree is sick?" "Cinni does have a valid point." I say. Kryst snorts. "Sure. That could be true. But if they have they been rounding up and ridding the city of all the fairys it stands to reason that perhaps they want to try and take me out too." "Well, I say, let ''em come." Kryst slips on her gauntlets and bangs her tiny fists together with a ring of metal and an aggressive glower. "I''ll give them a taste that''ll make them wish their daddys had pulled out." "Alright, at ease there, soldier." I make a settle down motion to the fairy. "Let''s not jump to conclusions. Whatever way we go I think getting into any fisticuffs with the guard is a bad idea." Never mind the a fact that they''d just be doing their job but I''d seen enough real life cop episodes to know that you don''t win in a fight with any sort of organized police force. Sure you may put up a struggle. Even take a down a few, but they will just call for more. And, even if this is some sort of rules based game world, I don''t feel like some max leveled character that can just walk through a city with no fear of low level mobs. "Alright then, what do you think we should do?" Kryst grumps. "I might be able to help with that." Crod holds up his hand, "I''ve asked Plogz, one of the buddies I play cards with, to go make some arrangements in Cragcliff. That''s the Goblin quarter over there under the Airship docks." Crod turns to me, "He''s also the fellah in the G.U. I was going to introduce you to, Brian." "What does he has some sort of pull with the poli-- eer... guard?" I ask. "No, not like that. I''ve just asked him to do me a favor and to keep you guys out of sight for a bit and away from guard attention. For a day or so at least." "Is he trustworthy?" I ask, unsure how I feel about putting our lives in the hands of a bunch of Goblins. "Oh, yeah. Almost too much." Crod chuckles, "Makes him awful at cards but a solid all ''round guy." I run my fingers through my hair in thought. We could go straight to the guard, that would be the most direct route to figuring out what was going on. After all, it could be like Cinnamon said and be something completely benign. But what if it wasn''t? We could just as easily be arrested. Being thrown into a dungeon definately wasn''t high on my current to-do list. "I think we need a bit more time." I say. "That''s something that we don''t have." Kryst says pointing out the window and we all hurry over to peer outside. A few of the locals, already out in force, working to clear the overnight buildup of leaves, step aside as five cityguard round a cluster of building at the end of the block. Four are wearing the same red leather uniforms that I''d observed at the gate, however, it''s the person positioned at their center that grabs my attention,. Clad in a red, black and silver the figure strides down the street with an air of authority. A cloak draped over the right shoulder and arm, connected via a length of chain to a single enormous pauldron worn on the opposite side. The silver breastplate is polished to a mirror shine, matching the helmet, gauntlets, greaves and boots. A long sword and dagger are worn openly on the left hip, but more concerning is when, brushing their cloak aside to step around a small mound of leaves, I spot a holster and the handle to a large pistol that had previously been hidden from view. I focus my attention on the knight like helm, in an attempt to catch the face beneath and though I should be able to see their eyes and mouth through the T-shaped opening at the very least, there seems to be nothing there. Just an inky all consuming blackness. "Brian?'' Cinnamon questions timidly, "What should we do?" I glance between each of my companions, as they look to me expectantly. My heartbeat racing with apprehension while I mull over the choices. The guards pause to question a few locals then start onward again drawing closer to the inn. "Let''s do like Crod suggested." Snatching up the bags I sling them about my shoulders. "We head down to the docks and find this... Plogz?" Crod nods his affirmation, "Yeah, go to Seaview Park, that''s the one down by the northern sky crane. Across from the piers. Look for a goblin with a gimpy leg and a cane." "You''re not coming with us, Icky?" Cinnamon asks, concern in her voice. The troll shakes his head, "There''s only a score or so of us trolls who live and work in the city, and as the Council appointed Twinwater Bridge caretaker and toll collector," he says rubbing his belly and wobbling his head with pride, "people around here know me. If I head out with you it won''t be long before the guard are pointed your direction." "You sure, Crod?" I ask. "Don''t worry. I''ll just tell them that I came by here to show you around town but you had all already left for the day. I''ll be fine." Crod chuckles. "Alright." I strap on my gun belt and glance out the window watching the guard draw closer. "Might work out better anyway. This way you can tell them who Cinnamon is. Maybe sort this whole situation out by letting her Pop-pop know. I figure you''d have a better chance to get word to him, anyway. Seeing as you hold a council appointed position and all." "That''s true." Crod beams, "I can do that." "Thanks, man." I slap him on the shoulder and the troll grins his, growing slightly less scary to me now, monster smile before he turns and heads out the door to clomp down the hallway. After locking the door move back to the window and see the guards disappear out of sight, heading under the eve of the inn. "They should be coming in about now."I say, "You two ready?" The girls nod in tandem and I motion toward the window. Cinnamon slips out first, and with Olympic level acrobatic prowess hurdles upward, disappearing from sight. Kryst follows suit, pausing just long enough to grab a grape from our breakfast plate, cradling it under her arm like a football. At the edge of the window I turn and give a final glance about the empty room and pray that the choice to run and hide isn''t a colossal mistake. Chapter 24: Rabbit on the Roof Ahead Cinnamon leaps silently to the top of a stacked stone wall, bordering the edge of a porch on the three story building. Perching for a moment to glance down she then drops over just as whisper quiet. I follow suit, giving a short hop to grip the edge and pull my fit frame up and over; grinning at the strength and agility my body now possessed. Unlocked: General Skill: Climbing: Success! We''ve been moving via the rooftops for a few blocks now, practically gliding over the moisture and leaf slicked roofs as we bee line in the direction of the Skydocks; the cranes an easy landmark above the tile topped buildings. Cinnamon is incredible. Even with my gifts of Elven agility, speed and my newly acquired Lightstep I find myself pushing to keep up with her. She moves with a practiced efficiency, ducking into nooks and overhangs like it was second nature. Blending with the shadows so effortlessly that I wonder if she isn''t using some type of special ability. More than once I''ve lost sight of her only to have her appear from behind some chimney or hidden alcove to grab my attention with a wave as I look around in confusion. Much like now. I hurry over to Cinnamon as she motions to me then crouches behind a mass of magitech machinery sprouting from the side of the building. A large rough hammered fan blade turns slowly; pipes and cables running down into the alley below and out of sight. "What the hells got you grinning so much, Too Tall?" Kryst pops herself halfway out of Cinnamons backpack, her little arms holding the flap above her head comically. "Am I?" Kneeling next to Cinnamon I give a dismissive shrug of my shoulders. Trying to explain to my companions the reasons why our run was having such a thrilling effect on me would be futile. Dashing over rooftops and bounding alleys was something I''d dreamed about ever since I''d picked up my first comic book and seen how all the superheroes did it during their protective patrols of their chosen city. "Well, knock it off. It''s giving me the creeps." Kryst humphs. "Maybe I just like the idea of chasing after a couple of good-looking ladies." I say. Charm vs Cinnamon Butter: Success! Charm vs Kryst Thunderfist: Success! Cinnamon coos and Kryst rolls her eyes with a smirk to match my own. I think I''m getting the hang of this. "We should probably get down to the ground to make our way to the Skydocks." Cinnamon says, "Things have changed a little since I was last here, but I think I know the way." "I thought you came here fairly often." I say. Cinnamon gives a shake of her head, her long ears twisting left and right. "I did, when I was a kit, but that was quite awhile ago." "So you don''t know anything about these goblins that we are going to meet then." "No, I''m afraid not, Brian. Sorry." Cinnamons ears lower. "Meh. If they are in charge of the docks then I''m guessing typical goblins." Kryst pipes in. "What do you mean?" I ask. In most game systems goblins were usually low challenge threats. Something for adventurers to cut their teeth on before moving onto bigger and better adversaries. Evil little humanoids, driven by selfishness and greed; taught from near birth to rely only on themselves. A necessity to survive the hardships of their upbringing. However, much like the drow, over the years goblins had become a viable player character race in many game systems, and like dark elves, they too often had to overcome the prejudices and stereotypes attributed to their kind to become accepted into the ''good'' communities of the world. "You''ve never had any dealings with goblins?" Kryst asks leaning out even further from Cinnamons backpack. "I have." I say recalling countless encounters in old games. I''m a bit hesitant to give them any further details, considering how different things have proven to be here. "The ones I am familiar with were more nuisances than anything else." I shrug, "I guess you could say they were more tribal in nature. With a sort of predisposition to be greedy and malicious." "Goodness, those sound like wild goblins." Cinnamon says. "Yeah." Kryst nods at Cinnamon, "They''re the ones that usually roam around in small packs. It''s not till they settle down with a few other families and get a more diverse communal collection that they lose that feral nature and begin to develop their cognitive cohesion." "Wait, what?" My face scrunches in bewilderment. "They get smarter in large groups?" "Ehhh" Kryst waggles her hand in the air. "I suppose you could look at it that way. It does seem to heighten their innate talent for jury rigging and cobbling together mechanical stuff." "Yes." Cinnamon nods in agreement, "Most tend to work in or even establish and run many types of crafting guilds." She gives me a closed eyed smile, "City goblins are very industrious." I feel like a star with a trailing rainbow should be passing in front of my eyes with a ''the more you know'' tagline following Cinnamons gentle voiced delivery. Kryst points toward Cinnamon as if to punctuate her statement. "Yeah what she said. They still tend to be greedy, but it''s tempered into a more organized form." "Interesting." Reflexively my eyes pan over the city, looking past the leaves drifting through the air and toward the cranes that mark our destination in the distance. My eyes widen behind my dark shades. "Whoa! Is that an Airship?" Pointing I tap an enthusiastic drum beat on Cinnamon''s shoulder. It is a strange looking vessel, what I could see, since most was still hidden from view by the buildings between us. Made of a rich dark colored wood, chunky metal plates and all of it covered in elaborate detailing of polished scroll-like brass. It loosely resembles an old styled sailing galleon; complete with masts, rigging and sails, though many stick out at odd angles, and funky, oversized sci-fi meets steampunk engines sprout at the sides and, particularly, stern of the craft. "Yup, yup. Looks like it just docked." Cinnamon says nodding. "You''ve never seen an Airship either, Brian?" I shake my head in the negative then crane my neck to try and get a better view. I feel the smile growing wider on my face but I can''t help it. Looking around I spy a wall and section of roof that juts out a bit higher that should provide a better vantage point. "Excitable thing, ain''t he?" Kryst says with a smirk to Cinnamon. Cinnamon giggle coos, "I think it''s cute." I easily navigate the short distance over to the taller section, my feet seeming to almost float across the rooftop tiles with my lightstep ability. It''s a bit of a leap to reach the top of the wall but I spring upward to grip the edge... General Skill: Climbing: Fail! ...but my fingers slide over the lip, slick with wet leaves. With a yelp of surprise I tumble off the side, bounce onto my back and roll. My feet dangling out into the open air over the alley, I scramble desperately to find a handhold.This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it. General Skill: Climbing: Fail! Tiles come loose under my fingers in my frantic, vain attempt to find any kind of purchase. Panic squeezes my chest in its icy grip; the tiles tumble a split second before I do, smashing against the wall and window ledges to send red ceramic shards raining nosily into the alley. My arms and legs flail outward as I start to fall. Damn gravity! She''s a harsh mistress. Acrobatics: Success! My left foot scrapes a mass of pipes just long enough for me to push off and twist, flipping head over heels in the open air. There is a tug of energy inside my core, the same as when I''ve used my mend ability. The sword! I will the flow toward the blade at my hip and feel the magic pour into the weapon. Wing Blade: minus 15 ft fall damage: Mana cost 5. Wing Blade: minus 15 ft fall damage: Mana cost 5. I have no idea what''s supposed to happen but I don''t seem to slow. Crap! did it not work!? I continue to plummet, the ground rushing up to meet me. This is gonna hurt. Still dreading the impending impact I slam into the ground in an impressive three point superhero landing. There is a quick shock of pain, but its barely noticeable, and nowhere near enough to dull the excitement of my somersaulting air-robatics and surviving a fifty plus foot fall. "Yeah! That was totally ninja!" Brian Status: HP: 7 / 12 Stun: 17 / 22 Mana: 0 / 10 "You there! What are you doing?!" The smile on my face drops when I spin about to face a pair figures standing under the eve dressed in the typical red leather armor of city guard. One of them is leaning against the wall, glancing between me at the broken tiles at my feet, smoke puffing from the pipe between his lips. The other, a woman with short cropped dark hair steps forward, pulling a wooden truncheon from her belt. She points the weapon toward me menacingly while the other guard looks up to scan the rooftops, his thick blonde mustache twitching. I look upward also, breathing a sigh of relief that Cinnamon is nowhere to be seen. "Think we''ve just found ourselves a burglar." The pipe chewing, mustachioed guard states. "An a bit of a bungling one at that." "That true?" The woman asks addressing me with a steely glare. "No, sir...eer, M''am... I was just...uhh." Stuttering for words, I curse myself inwardly. How was I supposed to explain this one. "I was... umm trying to clean some leaves from the roof and lost my footing." General Skill: Deception vs Guard 1: Fail! General Skill: Deception vs Guard 2: Fail! "Is that right?" The guards glance to each other for a brief moment. The second rolling his eyes ever so slightly. "Dangerous work that is. I suppose that''s why you need the pistol and sword." He too tugs his baton free, thankfully leaving his sword in its scabbard as well. The woman looks me up and down for a moment then without taking her eyes off me addresses the other guard. "Hey, Royce? Wasn''t that Gleam supposed to be traveling with a Lepuri and a Drow?" The male guard makes a grunt of acknowledgment and turns his attention back to the rooftops, squinting."You know anything about a Gleam, friend?" "Nope, no idea." I shake my head from side to side. "Right." The woman pulls out a set of manacles, not much larger than a pair of modern era handcuffs from a pouch behind her hip. "On the ground, hands behind your back." "All I did was fall off of a roof. Surely you aren''t going to arrest me for that, right? I mean, did I commit some kind of crime? " I question. "Watch who you''re calling Shirley, spooker!" The woman says with a growl. "Spooker?" I boggle, For some reason I feel oddly offended. And did we really just do the ''don''t call me Shirley'' bit? "Look lad, we have enough reason to believe that there''s crime afoot." The male guard, Royce says, placing his pipe on the edge of a old broken crate. "Now get on the ground or we''ll put you on the ground. "His words come accompanied with a billow of grey blue smoke. Bending my knees and lifting my hands in a sign of surrender I slowly lower myself toward the leaf caked floor. Crap! I can''t get arrested. As much as I hate the idea, there is no other choice. I have to try and take them out and make a break for it. Brian Status: HP: 7 / 12 Stun: 22 / 22 Mana: 0 / 10 Even if I am still bruised and battered I at least seemed to have recovered from the shock of the fall. I just pray that it''s enough. I go down to one knee, lowering myself to the ground. The female guard steps toward me and I see my chance. Like a sprinter at a starting block I burst forward and up. Driving my shoulder into her stomach I lift her off her feet and slam her into the wall. Unlocked: General Combat Action: CHARGE! Her breath leaves in a loud grunt and the manacles clatter to the ground but her truncheon, its strap looped about her wrist, doesn''t. Instead it rises and falls onto my back. Thankfully, my armor and a degree of my own physical toughness takes some of the sting out of the blows but it still hurts. A lot. Brian Status: HP: 7 / 12 Stun: 13 / 22 Mana: 0 / 10 I stand shoving her back against the wall and raise a fist but the thought of punching a woman in the face causes me to pause. The second guard lunges forward and I twist around to block instead, lifting my forearm to stop the swing aimed at my temple. The woman, her eyes slightly unfocused brings up a foot and manages to push me away with a powerful shove. Stumbling backward I collide into a rainwater collection barrel and topple to the ground, gasping at the sudden shock of frigid cold as I''m drenched in water and sopping leaves. Stupid! I roll to the side as the male guard pounces onto me his hands scrabbling at my arms to keep me from drawing either my gun or sword. He needn''t have bothered I had no intention to draw either weapon. Getting in a tussle was one thing, but trying to kill them was another. "Stop resisting! Stop resisting!" He yells into my face as I struggle under his weight. Perception vs Cinnamon Butter: Success! From the corner of my eye a shadow catches my attention and I see Cinnamon land silently behind the female guard who is distracted with picking up the manacles. Cinnamon twirls something in her hand and then swings it in a vicious arc to thump into the back of the oblivious guard''s head. Cinnamon Special Attack: Backstab. Like a sack of potatoes the guard falls to her knees and crashes to the ground next to us. Mr. Mustache takes immediate notice of his fallen comrade and his grip on me releases. Inhaling deeply he grabs at a chain around his neck twirling it around to bring the dangling whistle at the end toward his lips. Damn! I can''t let him signal more guard! The situation reversed I grapple at him now. Taking hold of his wrist to yank the whistle from his mouth; The barest hi-pitched chirp of alarm transforms instead to a wet pptthhh sound from between his pursed lips. Kryst comes flying out of nowhere, magenta energy trailing the blur of her tiny fists she strikes the guard a single blow near his neck Kryst Special Attack: Stunning Blow. He momentarily stiffens in my grasp and then like his partner, goes slack. Eyes rolled back into his head Royce slumps on top of me with barely a groan. "Thanks." I roll the guard off of me, catching my breath. "You ladies can kick ass, can''t you?" I grin to Kryst and Cinnamon. "Seems you have a few tricks up your sleeve yourself. I was expecting to find you in pieces down here after that fall." Kryst buzzes up to land on Cinnamons shoulder as I stand, "You really shouldn''t try that type of thing if you don''t have wings, you know." She flickers her gossamer wings quickly to drive the point home. "Or, you know, Lepuri legs." Cinnamon coos. "We did need to get down to the ground." I chuckle. Moving quickly I drag the unconscious guards a bit further down the alley and hide them behind a pile of leaves . For a moment I''m tempted to loot them of their manacles and truncheons and poke through their pouches to see what else they may have that might come in handy, but I stop myself. They were only doing their jobs, and in all honesty I would have probably done same thing if the situation was reversed. Moving the crate over to help conceal their sleeping forms, I dump the ashes from the guards pipe then place it on his chest and glance about for Cinnamon. She appears from behind a couple of stacked barrels at the mouth of the alley like magic and motions to me. Hustling down to Cinnamon waiting at the mouth of the alley I spot Kryst wriggling back into her knapsack hiding spot. "Let''s put some distance between us and..." I motion back over my shoulder, "Maybe try and find some place to grab some cloaks or something, Cinni-buns." I reach down and give a little pat to her butt. Cinnamon does a little nervous squeak but the follow up coo and smile tells me she doesn''t object to my forwardness. "Oh, yes." Cinnamons tail gives a quick double twitch "Good idea, Brian. I think I know where we can find some stores for that. Follow me." She says cutely then slips out onto the street. An uneasiness, tugs at my mind and I''m not sure what is bothering me. The fact that the city guard would most definitely be looking for us now,or the strange twinkle of pleasure I saw in Cinnamon''s eye when she sapped that guard. Chapter 25: Sittin on the Skydock over the Bay We trot along in near silence, keeping the cowls on our new cloaks low. I pull the edge of the rough cloth a bit tighter, shielding my face and keeping my flowing, stark white hair within the concealing shadow of the hood. The cloaks had been a lucky find as we ducked into a general store. Just one of the many stops we had to make during our trek as we carefully avoided the smattering of guards patrolling the streets. I''d managed to sweet talk the proprietor a bit, trading my single emerald for the cloaks, a fresh supply of odds and ends that replenished my Adventurers Backpack up to x5 uses, a couple changes of clothes, new sheathes for my dagger and sword, a boot knife, and five rounds of ammunition for my pistol; taking my supply up to a grand total of nine. Still, I felt woefully under stocked on ammunition and while I had wanted additional bullets those were the only rounds they had in the store. Somehow I knew I possessed the knowledge to create more, just like I knew that I could reuse the empty brass cartridges I had saved. It would however take time we didn''t have. And a Gunslingers Toolkit; which they also didn''t have in stock. It had been my intent to try and trade the various monster parts as well, but the shop keep had expressed little interest, informing us that we would have better luck at a tanner or leatherworkers. Kryst had stayed tucked away, hidden in Cinnamons backpack throughout our quick shopping trip. The fairy had said that she didn''t need anything, but I had scrounged about anyway and found, tucked on a shelf with carved wooden toys and hand stitched dolls, a variety of doll sized furniture. In particular a matching set consisting of a bed, table and a couple of small chairs. Expertly made, all of the wood had been delicately carved and etched with flowing filigree, stained and lacquered a deep, rich, red-brown. The chairs even had plush satin cushions and padded backs and the bed, little cotton sheets, a goose down stuffed miniature mattress and embroidered pillows. All were sized for more of a Raggedy Ann stuffed dolly than Krysts Barbie like stature, but I figured, with some minor adjustments the furniture could be easily resized for the fairy''s comfort. I kept the purchase of the toy furniture to myself, wrapped in a bundle of protective cloth and secreting it away into my pack. Without the matching doll the little table, chairs and bed had still cost me two gold pieces and three silver, but the shop keep had been kind enough to throw in a few bags of the trail mix nut and dried fruit rations that Cinnamon liked to nibble on along with a small pouch filled with hard candy sweets from a jar on the counter. Cinnamon had purchased some items also. A variety of small empty bottles and vials along with specially made leather holders that fit around her upper arms. Some strange smelling herbs, a coffee cup sized mortar and pestle and lastly a wooden box that had all sorts of colored salves, powders and little brushes. At first I had thought it to be a container full of art supplies, but when she lifted the top tray to reveal a selection of wigs, false eyebrows, moustaches and the like I recognized it for the Disguise Kit that it was. We had little time for her to try and use it though, for as morning pressed on the streets got busier. Besides the hired laborers clearing the streets of the piles of leaves to be taken away and burned. People bustle about as they go about their daily life, conversation and chatter building to fill the air. Vendors shout from market stalls and shop doors trying to direct would be customers to their wares. Trade goods are piled into hand carts as they are bought, sold and traded, and the traffic starts to slow our progress. Cinnamon draws my attention with a light touch on my hand. With her fantasy anthropomorphic long ears and cute cotton tail hidden under her cloak she looks human, and I can''t help but wonder how our interaction would have played out if we''d met in my world instead of hers. With a nod she indicates a side street, and I follow her lead, falling in step behind her. After a few more minutes of walking, and a couple more twists and turns, we arrive onto another main thoroughfare street that borders the Skyport. Cinnamon motions ahead to where a small park like observation area has been built on a section of cliff that juts out in front of the Skydock. Complete with wooden railings around the edge, stone benches, and even a few food stalls. The smells of pastries, grilled meat skewers, and roasted nuts, begs attention. "That smells really good." The mumble originates from Cinnamons backpack and I see Kryst pull a few laces apart to peer out. "Pssssttt Hey, B-rye. Do me a solid and go hook me up with some munchies." "Is your entire digestive systems just a tapeworm? It''s been like, less than an hour since we ate breakfast." I stage whisper back before pointing out a bench that is a little further away from the other seats to Cinnamon. "You can''t be hungry." "Brian, one of the great pleasures in my life is doing what others say that I can''t." Kryst retorts. "That... is actually really deep, Kryst." I pause for a moment digesting that rather profound little slice of wisdom as we walk over to the bench. "But a statement like that doesn''t apply to hunger." I shake my head, "I mean it''s not something that you can just will on." "Oh? Yeah, I suppose you''re right. That must be why only starving people eat." The backpack sarcastically jibes. "Gosh. Now I feel a little peckish too." Cinnamon mumbles as she slips off her pack and rests it down gently next to her as she sits. She seems to think for a moment glancing about. "And it would help us blend a little more." "Do we really have time for snacks?" I say in an incredulous tone as I place my packs onto the ground at the edge of the bench. "We are supposed to be looking for this goblin guy." "Which we could do while enjoying tasty kabobs." Kryst says. "Oh, umm... roasted nuts for me please, Brian." Cinnamon coos. "Yeah, it''s only one meat stick this Playboy bunny is interested in. Am I right, Cinni?" The backpack bulges into Cinnamons side and I know the fairy is inside of it buckling the leather with an elbow. Cinnamon giggle coos, her cheeks flushing and she leans over the top of the bag whispering down into the flap. There is a snickering from the interior, and after a pause a small hand pokes out and dismissively waves me away. "Alright, away you go." Behind my shades my eyes narrow at the talking backpack and Cinnamon. I dislike being shooed but they may have a point. Sitting on the bench and eating something while we wait for our goblin contact would make us a little less conspicuous. With an exhale I turn on my heel, leaving the ladies to their snicker fest. However, as I make my way toward a couple of the vendors positioned near the edge of the park, I can''t help but wonder if I had just failed a ''Persuasion roll'' or something. Deduction: Success! ******************This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. The wrapped parchment bag of warm mixed nuts continues its journey from pleasantly balmy to a level of uncomfortable burning, as it sits tucked under the crook of my arm. I shift it every so often to avoid the buildup of heat against my bicep, while I wait for the pair of skewered meat chunks to finish cooking. Speckled with a sprinkling of seasoning from a small clay pot behind the stalls counter and cooked over an open flame, I too have to admit it does smell absolutely delicious. Curse my insatiable predilection for barbequed food! Clearing my throat to catch the cooks attention, I begrudgingly hold up two more fingers. He merely nods his understanding and begins to assemble another pair of kabobs. I step back and a portly dockworker moves to the counter to place his order. While I wait, and now that I''m a bit closer to the docks, I take the time to scour the area a bit more. Sea gulls and pigeon like birds dive and hover in the open gap of empty air between the park edge and the Skydock. Some forty feet away piers project out from the edge of the cliff, the wooden decks reinforced by rust speckled metal frames; all relatively clear of the mud and trampled leaves that cover the rest of the city of Redtree. Wooden rails spattered with bird droppings frame the sky piers; clearly a precaution to prevent hapless workers and passengers from tumbling the hundreds of feet to the base, where more buildings cluster around the edge of the lake below. The ropes and cables that dangle from the cranes and Airships rigging sway gently. The winds impacting on the rocky cliff side creating an updraft; a constant warm breeze that blows away both falling leaves and the oppressive, near palpable stink, of rotting vegetation. And everywhere I look there are goblins. They average from three and a half to perhaps four feet in tall and remind me of a bunch of mottled, green skinned, messed-up looking, Minions. Not that their appearance, save for the similarity in height, is anything like the beloved 3D animated creatures. In fact, every one of them seems to have extreme variances. From bulbous heads, and ape-like arms, anorexia skinny to obscenely fat, each and every one so completely different to the next that it would be impossible to confuse one with another. The Minion comparison, in my mind though, comes in the way they move and act. Hustling and clambering about in small droves they chitter and chortle to each other as they go about moving and fixing things in what appears to be more a comedy of errors than any sort of organized workforce. Over and over my heart leaps into my throat as I watch at least a half dozen of the little critters have near misses with swinging ropes, wooden beams and even a goblin driven, loader style Wargear. Each time, however, they duck, or step out of the way at the last second, completely oblivious to the danger that could have sent them tumbling over the edge of the pier or crushed underfoot of magitech machinery. Glancing about I notice some of the benches and fences in the park have small groups of people watching just as intently as I am, and it occurs to me that beside the majestic view of the distant ocean, the lush forest, or the river to sea connected lake far below, perhaps many simply come here for the entertainment level live-show the goblins unknowingly perform during what is simply their average workday. Perception: Success! The non-goblin stevedores and sailors on the docks all steer clear of the antics, and my discerning eye spots a particular gathering of humans near the bow of the Airship, along with a group of guards. Taking a couple steps to the side, I causally lean against a tree, interposing it between us in the unlikely event they should glance over in my direction. Stealth: ??? There seems to be some kind of argument going on between the two sailors and one guard in particular, who judging by his demeanor, is the one charge. He passes the most obstinate looking sailor a roll of papers which they immediately snatch from his hand and unroll, scanning the contents angrily while the other guards continue to load up a cart with milk crate sized square cages. Perception: Success! With the suns glare no longer a problem, my sharp elven eyes pick up movement and I see that packed within each cage, fluttering about like tiny birds, are dozens of fairys. The angry sailor thumbs in the direction of the airship and the other woman takes off at a sprint, hauling-ass up the gang plank she disappears onto the deck. It takes the guards only a minute or so more to finish loading the crates, then one hops into the small bench-like driver seat. With a smack of a crop the pony hitched cart begins to move along the docks. The remaining agitated sailor makes yet another attempt for them to stop, but the lead guard dismissively waves her off as they make their way back to the street and out of sight. "Oy, sir?!" The boisterous voice comes a bit aggressively from a short distance behind me. I turn to see the cook pointing at four skewers of meat tucked into a slotted wooden holder on the counter. By the slightly annoyed tone I realize that the call for my attention was probably not the first one he had made. "Oh! Sorry, bud." Sheepishly, I give a grimace of apology and hurry over, diving into my pouch to produce the required coinage payment and slide it across the counter. I''m a few steps away from Cinnamon, still seated on the park bench, when I hear a few shouts from the dock and turn to glimpse a new woman on the deck of the airship, flanked by the previous sailor who had run off. Decked out in dark leather pants, a white silk shirt and a sword on her hip, she checks all the boxes for a ''smoking hot female swashbuckler'' motif. Gold bangles and jewelry glitter against her dusky, olive skin, and her long black hair billows in the wind; held away from her face by a tied red bandana that matches the sash, looped alongside the dagger adorned belts at her waist. The swashbuckler woman continues to shout down to the sailor, who the guards had brushed off, still standing on the pier, holding the rolled parchment aloft. I strain to hear some of the conversation over the whistle of wind overlaid with the activity of the dockworkers. Perception: Fail! Their strange accent, combined with a sudden hi-pitched squealing gust that sweeps their voices away, proves it too difficult a task. The little I do catch is the sexy swashbuckler is addressed as ¡®Captain Rain...or perhaps Reigns?¡¯ I let out an audible gasp of alarm when a second later the dark haired beauty places a booted foot on the airships rail and leaps skyward, snatching a rope dangling in the open air over the easily five hundred foot drop. Like she is straight out of a high-adventure pirate movie, she swings about in a wide arc to land on the dock, the acrobatic momentum transforming instantly into an un-broken, and clearly angst filled stride to the waiting sailor. The Captain snatches at the parchment, in much the same way her subordinate had done, scanning over the document. "About time!" Turning back to the bench I hear Kryst''s hiss of disapproval, still concealed inside her hiding place in Cinnamon''s backpack. "What did you do, go out and hunt and gather the food yourself?" "Don''t you go getting an attitude, woman." I smirk in mock outrage, "Unless you want me to eat it all myself." I take a nibble from one of the meat skewers to punctuate the threat. The smokey flavor is a delight to the tastebuds and before I know it I''ve already taken a second bite. "Low, Too tall, that''s real, snake belly to the ground, low." The knapsack says. "That certainly didn''t sound like an apology now did it, Cinni?" I ask the bunnygirl as I pass her the still warm a bag of nuts. "C''mon, big boy..." Kryst voice is low and a breathy and the knapsack lifts a little providing a space large enough for me to pass her the skewers, "While Cinni takes those salty nuts in her mouth how about you... Mmm... slip me some of that hot, meat..." I feel my ears and groin tingle from the fairy''s teasing wanton groan. "Alright, stop that." I say, hurriedly pushing a couple skewers into the pack. "Easy! Not so Ahh... fast!" Kryst, still in an obviously playful mood, let''s out a squeak punctuated moan that tickles Cinnamons sense of humor, and she raises a finger to her lips to stifle a giggle. I feel a flush of embarrassment by their clowning, but smile along with the bunnygirl. It was nice that they were getting along, even if my mind was wandering to the more naughty possible outcomes of the three of us becoming closer. "If you two have had enough fun at my expense. Have either of you spotted our Goblin contact yet?" I ask, hoping that my attempt to steer the topic of conversation away from nuts and meat and back to the reason we were here, at least pauses the growing visual of a lewd situation involving Kryst and Cinnamon from taking too firm a root in my mind. Cinnamon shakes her hooded head from side to side in the negative, but stops mid motion. "Wait. Is that him?" She says with a nod along the path. Chapter 26: Hobblin Goblin Hobbling along, the goblins stout body is slightly hunched over as he moves toward us. Balancing with an overly complex, gearpunk designed cane, in a small thin fingered hand. In relation to the other goblins scurrying everywhere on the docks, he is fairly tall and unlike the more everyday work clothes they are wearing, this one sports a gold thread embroidered, blue grey jacket that covers him to his waist and a pair of tan colored, shortened pants that end just above the knee. "Crod?" Two close-set eyes stare up at us from their bony sockets as he draws close and I see that one of his legs is a mishmash of gears and pistons; crunching the gravel of the walkway beneath a wide iron shod foot. "Yes, Sir." I answer after a quick glance to Cinnamon, I extend my hand to the small creature. "Pleasure to meet you. Mr. Plogz is it?" "Ha! That cheating bugger said you had respectful tendencies." The goblin grins and grabs my hand, shaking it solidly. "My mother taugh me to be polite." I say. "Can''t fault a soul for such a good upbringing." He says, releasing my hand; placing his atop the other holding his walking stick. "So? Having some snags in the burg, yeah? Crod mentioned that you''d need a roof and bunk for a day or so. The goblins voice drops in volume, "And that you might be having a bit of an issue with the Sniffers?" "Sniff-- Ah, the guard?" I say lowering my voice a little to match his, "Yeah... I''m sure it''s all just a little mix-up. Anyway, I''m Brian, this is Cinnamon, and umm... Kryst is in the bag there." I give the goblin a shrug, "We think that the... Sniffers have some sort of problem with her, being that she''s a Gleam, hence why she is keeping out of sight, but we really can''t figure how or why." "I''ve had more than my fair share of issues with the legislative where it pertains to fairy requisitions, as of late." The goblin lets out a sour snort, and sucks his teeth. "Oh? How so?" I question. "Sorry, those are G.U. politicals." He states waving off the inquiry, "I''ll just say that a bit too much peculiarity abounds in recent." Plogz looks up to the far off canopy of the Redtree, then shakes his head, "Well, don''t fret your cranials. I''m sure things will get sorted in short. Till time comes, you''ll be snug in the Crags." With a tap of his cane on the bench edge he turns about and motions back the way he came. "Follow on, then." "Say, Mr. Plogz?" I move to shoulder my pack as I grunt under the heavy weight, "You wouldn''t happen to know of any good leatherworkers or tanners would you?" Opening one of my bags, I pull out a bit of the monster hide. "I''m looking to unload this." "Say, that''s fine!" Taking a closer look the goblin lets out a whistle between the gap in his teeth, "You huntsmen, then?" "Not quite." I shake my head, "But we are in need of coin more than materials at the moment." "Tell you truth, you might seek a squeakier price shopping it around, but if you''re presently wishing to lift the load an pad your pouch then I could pass through channels at the Trades." Plogz says pointing toward a large building on the edge of the pier surrounded by merchant types. "That would be great." I turn to Cinnamon who gives me a closed eye approving smile.This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source. "We''ll march by on the way to the lifts then." Plogz nods then turns and starts walking along the path but after only a few steps his knee buckles as his mechanical appendage locks up. Hopping about on his one good leg he grips his cane tightly while emitting a series of strange throaty sounding growl clicks, that I can only assume is goblin cursing. Stepping over, I catch him by the elbow before he topples to the ground, and guide him back to the bench where he balances on a butt cheek as his leg jitters. "Oh my goodness. Are you alright?" Cinnamon questions. "Cursed mechtanics!" He huffs, reaching down to bang on his knee joint. "I''ll be fine, missus. Apologies, just need to give it a tick or two then we can move along." I study his robot-like leg for a moment. Over sized and clunky, it''s construction gives it a certain stylized visual that clearly matched the other mechanical devices I''d seen so far in this world. My logical brain has no choice but to compare the inner workings of the limb to modern machinery. The mass of pistons and heat sink plates, connected via bulbous screws to oversized clockwork mechanisms, make it resemble something from a graphic novel or video game. Now, unlike my father, I had never been too mechanically inclined, but from a youth spent helping dad on weekends with general home and automotive maintenance and repair, I''ve picked up enough to know that there was no way this cos-play crap should be able to function! Golem Tech + Bonus from Complementary Skills: Success! Just as oddly bizarre, however, is the fact that I knew exactly what the problem was with the limbs construction, and how to fix it. "Mr. Plogz, did you use a Wargear traction plate for this?" I ask. "Good peepers you possess, shadowson." He confirms, "Was an old derelict the guard had stripped and dumped." "You know I think I see the issue." Pulling out my Tinkers kit, I kneel next to where he is sitting. "You mind if I have a look?" I hold up a couple of my tools and pause, waiting for the goblins approval. "HA! If you can get this fiendish contraption stepping proper I''ll have Union papers pressed for you before the noon." The Goblin laughs then gives me a nod to proceed. I dive in removing a small covering plate to expose a few of the more delicate components near the knee joint. "Yup, there is your problem. See this steel slave spindle here?" I point to a cog, "That''s regulated for a human. You need a brass one." I pop off the gear and the Goblin makes a blubbering sound of alarm. Quickly I reach into my adventurers backpack, expending x1 use to pull out the required component. Adventurer¡¯s Backpack: Mundane: This item can be used to pull forth 5 mundane pieces of adventuring gear. The items retrieved cannot have a value of more than 5 gold. Once an item is called forth from the pack it remains. Contents: 50ft Hemp Rope, Grappling Hook, Handsaw, (Travel) Tinker''s Toolkit, Small Brass Gear. Uses Remaining: x4 "A silver cylinder would be better connector here, too." I''m about to reach into my pack once more but know intuitively that the second part would be more costly than the five gold piece value limit. "But I''m afraid that I don''t have one. Still, that should be much more comfortable, at least until you can make that switch." Tightening the brass gear in place, I lean back on a knee and motion to Plogz to try it out. The look of doubt on his face quickly transforms to elation as he swivels his foot around and hops off of the bench practically dancing a jig, his walking stick all but forgotten in his hand. "Why if that don''t tickle a bunghole!" He slaps me hard on the shoulder. "Crod said that you knew Technicals, but I figured that he was just spitting jibber jabber to bluff a lousy hand. Do you tred any ground in particular?" "Uhh, I know a few different fields." I think that is what he is asking, "Weaponsmithing, metal fabrication, golem, airship and magitech..." Along with his grin, Plogz eyes grow wider and wider as I list off my character skill sets, but I''m amazed they don''t pop completely out of his skull when I mention, "Wargear." "Darklander, you and I have topics we need to conversate about." Chapter 27: Over the Edge Smells and sights bombard my keen elf senses, but it¡¯s the shrieking which sets my nerves on edge; threatening to overwhelm me. I bring my fingers to my ears to grant a momentary reprieve from the cacophony of shouts and screams. I glance to Cinnamon concerned with how she is handling the near deafening din of the trade hall with her sensitive ears, but she seems unconcerned. Being a person born with naturally heightened senses, I suppose she has long ago learned how to block out unwanted noise. I on the other hand, feel like a superhero whose powers have just kicked in. Cinnamon reaches out to touch my arm and mouths something, worry written on her face. ¡°Pardon?¡± I drop my fingers and concentrate my focus on her lips. Use them as an anchor in the sea of sound. ¡°I asked if you are alright?¡± She says. ¡°Yeah. I¡¯m fine.¡± I let out a sigh of relief as the noise drops down. Her voice comes to me with clarity; the racket still there, but now subdued. ¡°I just needed to pop my ears.¡± ¡°Oh, I understand.¡± She gives me a nod and her closed eyed smile. Cinnamon opens her eyes and her cheerful smile drops a little. "Umm, Brian. I have a question. I didn''t mean to eavesdrop but I couldn''t help overhearing when you were talking to Mr. Plogz that you know about airships. But you told us..." She nods her head toward the pack on her back where Kryst was still hiding. "Well, you said that you had never seen an airship before?" "Hey, yeah! Carrots has a point." Kryst says and I see her peek out between a few leather straps. DOH! I hadn''t thought of that. "I wasn''t lying, ladyfriends." I give my companions a shrug and toss in a hint of a smirk, "I have never actually seen an airship, not like the one at the dock, anyway. As you know, Cinni-buns. I''m not from around here." "Oh yes, Suckyville, right?" Cinnamon nods. "Yeah." I chuckle, "But I have also done a lot of reading and... research on all kinds of subjects." Technically that was true. How many countless hours had wasted away just looking up pointless snippets of information on the internet or watching science and life hack style Youtube vids? A man shuffles between us to step through a small swinging door and out into the throng of people shouting and shoving as they cluster about in a confused mess. Luckily, we didn''t have to push and fight our way through the stock market-like main assembly area with the rest of the merchants and traders, having been taken into the back of the hall via a side door by our goblin guide. We¡¯d spotted a few guards near the main entrance, and there was another posted in the ''office'' subdivision where we now stood waiting. But, judging by his advanced age and the way he sat snoozing in his padded, threadbare chair in the far corner, I wasn¡¯t too concerned with him taking notice of us. My eyes scan the clusters of desks and clerks, searching for Plogz amongst them. He had disappeared a few minutes ago, along with one of the workers who he¡¯d conscripted to haul our sacks of monster bits. There had been a few parts I had decided to keep. The snake scaled Naga skin for one, as well as a section of Drayger hide, some claws and teeth, and of course, the bone pistol handles I had started carving in the early hours of the morning. The rest had been gathered up and whisked away, leaving me a little anxious that we might have been ripped off. Perception: Success! My restless concern dissipates when I spot Plogz making his way back toward us; a bulging coin purse and small leather scroll case in one hand, and his walking stick held casually in the other. I give a grin when he gets closer, not only because of the security blanket feeling of a bit more money in my pocket, but because I was looking forward to picking up our conversation. During our walk to the trade hall, Plogz had questioned me fairly extensively regarding the usage of various building materials and the how and whys of my proposed solutions to a wide range of magitech based problems. There was a certain level of pride that I felt in being able to answer most, if not all, of the queries with the same level of expertise that I had demonstrated while repairing his leg. The knowledge was just... there. The same as with the assortment of other skills I now possessed. It was a weird sensation. To suddenly have expertise in a variety of ''professional'' fields. After all, I¡¯d never really been that great at anything before. Sure, I was pretty good with numbers, and I didn¡¯t completely suck when it came to customer service. But, past that? My grades back in school were passable at best, and pathetic at worst. With no real talents to speak of I had become one of the faceless masses that made up the working force. "I think you¡¯ll be sated with the received price." Plogz says. Drawing close he hands over the pouch. "Fifty gold?" I go lightheaded for a moment. By my comparable reckoning to dollars that was somewhere in the range of twelve to thirteen hundred bucks! ¡°Father bless, brother! You da man.¡± I say with a wide grin. Pulling open the draw string I stare down at the glittering coins then show them to an equally pleased Cinnamon. The goblin takes the compliment with a small dip, then patiently waits as Cinnamon and I take a moment to share the coin evenly between us. "And, promise fulified.¡± Plogz says holding out the scroll case when we have finished stowing away our money. "What is this, Mr. Plogz.¡± I ask, taking the small leather tube. "Your sigil stamped papers, of course. The Goblin Union welcomes you to the fold, brother in trade. If you wish work, naturally you''ll need to pay the monthlies. However, I¡¯ve covered on initial and also your stamp fees. On account of your assistance with..." He drum beats his metal leg with his cane. "Wait? What!?" I boggle at the case then pop it open, tapping it against my hand to free whatever was inside. A steel ring set with a slightly raised cog tumbles into my palm a moment before a rolled parchment slides partway out. Studying the ring for a moment I see that it is etched with small symbols on the otherwise plain band that correspond to signed and notarized stamps on various pages of the now unrolled parchment papers. Perk: Goblin Guild Member Perk: Recognized Guild Qualifications: Foundry Perk: Recognized Guild Qualifications: Gearsmith Perk: Recognized Guild Qualifications: GunsmithThis novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source. Perk: Recognized Guild Qualifications: Shipwright: Sky Perk: Recognized Guild Qualifications: Wargear "Mr. Plogz, I don''t know what to say. Thank you." I say, slipping the ring onto my finger. "No thanks mandatory. I can tell you know your trades good and healthy. Could use a gaggle more of you around here to ply your fixings." Prickles of doubt fill the edge of my thoughts. The pride I had felt before souring my stomach. Back in the really-real world having a comparable set of skills to what I have here, and the recognition to go with it, would take years, most likely decades of study and practice. Did I really deserve what had basically just been plopped into my lap? "Speaking of.¡± Plogz interrupts my self-deprecating thoughts. Pulling over a chair he hops onto it then dips a hand into his pants pocket and produces a small, silver cylinder. He holds it up to show me. ¡°Grabbed this from your specifics. If it proves not a bother, would you mind finishing?" He asks, smacking his leg once more. **************************** After making the final adjustments to the mechanized goblin appendage, Plogz once more ushers us outside, this time escorting us down toward the piers. Again he steers us away from the few guards we see posted about the port, taking us around buildings and down side routes. We pass a series of warehouses where more workers, both goblin and not, move goods to and fro. Pallets are unloaded and restacked with wooden and metal containers, they are once more hauled skyward, swung over head, and then lowered over the edge of the cliff toward the water docks below. ¡°Gosh, things sure have changed since I was here last.¡± Cinnamon says glancing around as wide eyed as I surely was. ¡°There was only the single pier before. Now it looks to be at least three Airship berths up here." ¡°Four, in actuality.¡± Plogz points toward the end of the docks and then down toward the cliff drop-off. ¡°With a pair more mid-build just lower.¡± ¡°Buncha tourists."Kryst says from her hiding spot, "What you need to do is leave the sky to the professionals. Clearly, if you were supposed to be flitting about in the air, you¡¯d have wings.¡± Kryst lets out a humph, ¡°You know, like decent folk.¡± ¡°Shuddap.¡± I grin, poking the knapsack with a finger. ¡°Hey.¡± Kryst pauses, and similar to a cat in a paper bag, the knapsack rumples about with her movement. ¡°Don¡¯t make me come out there.¡± Cinnamon and I share a smirk as we follow Plogz toward a set of steps that lead down to a series of large metal stages, ringed by waist high rails. "How often do ships come through?" I ask. "Near constant by sea." Plogz says pointing to the wide river snaking through the forest from the lake to the ocean. "Skyships? With the uptick sale of Redtree ash, leaves and wood off cut. One every day or couple now." He points to some of the crates being loaded. Sure enough I see one of the open metal containers is indeed filled with piles of grey-white ash. There are also huge table sized wedges of dark wood that remind me of the slabs used for granite countertops in all those, oh so popular, flip your home improvement shows. The goblin pauses at the top of the set of stairs with me. While I take in the view, Cinnamon walks a little ahead. "They cut and sell the Redtree?" I ask, "Isn''t that bad? I mean anyone ever think that''s what is causing it to become as sick as it clearly is?" "Leaf harvestation, pruning minor roots and branches, even direct building construction in the wood has never raised trouble before." The goblin shakes his head, "Besides, the parliamentary has an Arch level Geomaister for consultation of such topicals." "That wouldn''t happen to be a Lepuri fellow named Midnight would it?" The Goblin nods in the affirmation. "It would." "Huh." I give a glance to Cinnamon who has now moved down onto the lower walkway. Was Cinnamons family member ultimately responsible for what was happening here? And if so, what was the end goal? The guy seemed to be the one who was the go-to expert on the tree. Some sort of druid or something. That knowledge alone sets butterflies loose in my stomach. Who knew how he would react with me having eyes for his... granddaughter? I literally shake the thought from my head. Cinnamon had said that she hadn''t been home in a long time. So how well did she really know him anymore? I had adored Uncle Doug for years, but it wasn''t until I grew up and learned that the reason his visits were so infrequent and ultimately stopped completely, was due to his incarceration for some rather heinous crimes. Trade seemed to be flourishing in the city, but at what cost? Was all of it just some shortsighted, money grab by these people? A kind of strip mine, gold rush, ''fracking'' mentality. Plucking away at feathers, uncaring that eventually it would kill the goose that laid their golden egg? I let out a sigh. All of these issues would have to wait until we meet him I suppose. Then again, who was I to question any of what was going on here. After all, this wasn''t my world. As if to punctuate the thought I glance back to the Skyship at the other side of the docks. Under the bright sun, color hues shift over the large gold painted eagle that adorns the prow, its wings sweeping back along the bow to near mid-ship. I wonder, is it a magical effect or just the expertise of the woodworkers carvings that make the feathers and wings appear as if made of red, orange and yellow flame. "Brian?" I pull my attention away from the magical craft and look to the goblin. "After we get your lot settled. Bonders sealed, a square or two in your belly and a few snores stored behind the eyelids. Well, I have a pondering." The goblin scratches the light stubble on his chin, "See, I have me a few quandaries that I think you could lend fingers to fixing. If you be up to the challenges, of course." I suck my teeth a little. "Thing is Mr. Plogz, we are trying to keep a low profile, remember? I don''t want to draw any attention toward us with the guard." "Nope, not a lick of that. You have my stamp, no question." He says. "This be more of a personal ask." "In that case, sure, Mr. Plogz. I don''t see how I can say no." I grin. If it was comparable what was needed to repair his leg I could hardly wait to try my hand at it. "Fine showing! Knew I could count on you to assist!" Plogz smiles, "Lad, I have a real fonder for you. Real go and getter to be sure. Fact is, I''d swear you have a little goblin green in your linage." "I highly doubt it, Mr Plogz. But, if nothing else, I''ll take that as a real compliment." "As intended, my Shadowson." Plogz says, "C''mon then, best keep moving ahead." He motions toward the lower level where Cinnamon stands waiting. With a nod I hurry down the stairs to catch up. Plogz pauses at the top of the steps, instinctively reaching for the banister to crabwalk down, in that elderly person way. Like a bolt of lightning, the realization that he no longer needs to must hit, and a wide, beaming smile cracks across his face. That same arc of lightning then jumps to me, as I too grasp just how long and severe a crutch that badly calibrated leg of his must have been. Quickly catching up with a proud stride Plogz leads the way onto the metal stage structure and to the closest of a half dozen or so platforms that stick out from its edge. He exchanges some clicking snorts in ¡®goblinese¡¯ with a few workers who simply nod or laugh in what I can only assume is some sort of workplace banter. One of them makes a hand motion to Plogz leg and cane to which he turns and points back toward me. I reflexively puff out my chest when the squat goblin dockworker gives me a approving nod. Waiting until we have all piled onto the indicated platform the other goblin waddles over to push a hinged gate closed behind us. The sliding deadbolt styled lock ringing against a bell on the frame. Plogz gives a nod, grabs hold of a metal leaver on the back edge of the platform, squeezing the release grip. Safety locks pop up from the edges with a sharp kachunk and a moment later he cranks the leaver back. In response machinery whirs and the platform vibrates as it begins to descend. Gears turning as it rolls along a raised track, I give Cinnamon a nervous smile and take a step forward to peer over the rail. Immediately my sphincter tightens from the feeling of vertigo, sending a tingle racing from my groin, up through my stomach to flash up my spine at the sight of the near vertical drop. Gripping the banister in a white knuckle hold I see what must be homes and stores built into the side of the rock face. Tunnel and borehole entranceways which give several sections of rock a Swiss cheese appearance. The only apparent access granted via long walkways and interconnected elevator platforms; similar to the one on which we now stood. I swallow down the lump in my throat. I¡¯ve never been scared of heights, but I wasn¡¯t necessarily a fan either. I just had to think of it as a theme park ride. Like an open side and topped elevator, or a slowed down rollercoaster. A very scary, steampunk ratchety, clockwork rollercoaster. Again, my groin tingles in trepidation. We haven¡¯t moved far down the wall, only fifteen to twenty feet from the drop off, when I hear a shout from behind. Turning I see the sexy-hot, airship Captain from before racing along the walkway toward the steps leading to the elevator platforms. We lose sight of her for a moment but then there is a cry of fright from the ''security'' goblin at the gate above. The ringing of the bell at the gate above us is followed by a scraping sound as she slides down the slight incline and freefalls the last twelve or so feet to land in between Cinnamon, Plogz and I with a bang. The platform shudders with the vibration of her impact and the gears shift then slip. The platform dropping under our feet. Chapter 28: Ups and Downs "Captain Reigns!? Your gourd gone mush?" Plogz yells, "Cliff jumping like some suicidal squirrel! Any inklings to what¡¯d happen if you¡¯d missed the lifter!?" "My guess? Crod wouldn''t go hungry tonight." I hear Kryst chuckle. We only dropped a few inches before the gears catch once more, but I¡¯m fairly positive that my fingers will need to be pried free of the dents they have undoubtedly made in the rail; thanks to the hydraulic vice press of force I''ve exerted onto it. The woman stalks forward, completely ignoring Cinnamon and I, along with Plogz''s flabbergasted protests. "What is this, ey!?" she shakes a parchment in his face so close and fast that I see his eyes bounce back and forth to either side of the sockets in an effort to keep up. "What are... I can¡¯t-- Still your phalanges, confound it!" Grabbing her wrist to slow the movement, Plogz snatches the papers from her hand. Snorting out a grumble he holds them still, the wind threatening to rip them from his fingers. I take her in as she stands glaring at Plogz, one hand resting on a cocked hip, the other hooked into the wide belt at her waist. Up close she is just as ravishing as I first believed, and from the air of confidence this Captain Reigns exudes, she definitely has quite a few points in Presence to go along with her high Allure stat. Her white, off the shoulder silk shirt, is tied above her navel, showing off a delightful display of creamy-light mocha skin and a toned stomach. Black hair, long and loose, billows in the breeze and cascades down to pile around her shoulders and back. A few small braids drape to her collar bone. Decorated with beads and brightly colored feathers they peek around a slender neck adorned with gold chains and necklaces, each of them festooned with small circular pendants and assorted talismans. "This wasn''t under any G.U. sanctifications!" Plogz blurts when he finishes reading, ¡°Damn that Karabos and his finagling!¡± Karabos? I make mental note of the name and the way that Plogz practically spits it out. He must be the guy at the root of all the troubles. I give an internal snort. With a name like that he may as well just have a sign above his head saying ''villian.'' "Then it is you who also have problem.¡± The Captain says, bangles and bracelets jangle along her forearms as she crosses them under her breasts. ¡°You know all of my payments is made at full, Mr. Plogz, and I will be the damned if my ship falls from sky because of some bureaucratic bunta d¨¦s plita!" Her words fire off at a machine gun tempo and it takes me a second to catch up to her strange, clipped but ''oh so sexy'', rolling R''s laden accent. "We pressed through night to make port, under pretense that fairies would be waiting to replenish our roost." she says. "Pretense?! Now, you wait a ticky tock, Capt--" "Then how would you have it put, ey? The scant few fairies we have will give but a trickle to recharge our crystals. By time we have power enough to leave the port, dock fees and tariffs will have all but drained away at my funds. Including, my standing credits..." A darkness crosses over the woman''s visage and I see the corner of her mouth twitch in fury. One hand strays toward the blade at her hip as she points accusingly at the goblins face. Jewels sparkling in the rings on her fingers. "We have had fair dealing for a long time, Mr. Plogz, but if this is an attempt to try and lay claim to the Phoenix with a legal scheme due to inadequate payments..." She hisses. A mirrored look of livid anger flashes across Plogz face at the accusation and I see him take in a breath of air, eager to launch back in righteous indignation. "Whoa, let''s not be rash." I step in between the both of them before he can fire off his verbal salvo and cause the confrontation to escalate any further. ¡°Who is you, ey?¡± The Captain turns her smoldering gaze toward me. Sparkling grey-green eyes, the color of the sky on a stormy day, travel up and down my body. She takes me in with a look that that causes me to involuntary swallow with nervousness. Be gentle with me, Mamacita. I give myself a teensy internal chastisement, even if I was entitled to be a bit sexist and non-politically correct within the confines of my own man brain. She wasn''t quite what I would necessarily call Hispanic, but with her tan skin and fiery, feisty demeanor, it was the closest correlation that I could come up with. ¡°You are with Union, ey?¡± she asks, and I notice that she is looking down at my hand. I too glance down to the ring that has caught her attention. ¡°Yes?¡± I stutter, and glance to the goblin and then back to her. ¡°I mean, yes! Indeed I am.¡± Emboldened, I nod to Plogz then extend my hand toward her, ¡°Brian Brantley. And if I heard correctly you are, Captain Reigns?¡± She continues to stare at me for a few breaths, then quickly takes my hand in her own. ¡°Yes. Captain Isabella Ravena Reigns.¡± She shakes it firmly and looks up toward the underside of the airship at the end of the dock. ¡°My ship, the Priya Phoenix.¡± I smile and let out a little chuckle, attempting to cover up the way her very heavy accent tickles my libido when her ¡®yes¡¯ sounds like ¡®jess¡¯ and ¡®ship¡¯ like ¡®sheep.¡¯If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. There was definitely some strong South American inflections in the way she spoke. Not that I was any kind of expert, being that I barely squeaked by with a passing grades in my high school Spanish classes, but I had heard enough in my time to know it was way wrong though. Overemphasized, it sounded more like... Wait? That¡¯s what it was! It was something about it that made her sound like a person mimicking a thick accent. It was a common thing to do at the game table to demonstrate a different language or racial diversity. Was language here some kind of strange derivative offshoot of ¡®in character¡¯ gamer speak? Deduction: Success! I can feel my grin grow wider with my reasoning and I¡¯m tempted to dust the cobwebs off the old Spanglish kicking around in my noggin and give it a go.Then again, that might not be the best plan. The last thing I wanted to do was piss her off by unintentionally mocking her. For now, I decide to keep my tongue in check. Unlock CANCELLED: Free Basic Language: Zantorish x2 Free Basic Language Remaining ¡°Maybe I could help out?¡± I offer. ¡°If you would allow, perhaps I could take a look aboard your ship. I can¡¯t necessarily fix your ¡®lack of fairy¡¯ problem, but I might be able to at least suggest some solutions to get the most out of whatever resources you still have left onboard.¡± I feel a little gnaw of guilt in the pit of my stomach. Sure, the idea of going on an actual magical airship, and poking around to see exactly how it works, definitely has me feeling more than a little giddy. However, I wasn¡¯t being completely altruistic with the proposition. "You would do this, ey?" Isabella asks. "It would be my pleasure, Captain." I grin. ¡°Umm, Brian? Do you think that''s wise?" To my left Cinnamon steps forward and places a hand on my arm. "''Why? Cinni? What''s up?" At the moment, we were in a win-win situation. Any help I could offer would just put us in a better position with Plogz and the Goblin Union. As for Captain Reigns, sure, she was drop dead gorgeous, which certainly didn¡¯t hurt, but what I was really aiming to get from her was to garner a bit of favor. Whatever was going on with the tree and the fairy thing had certainly peaked my ''player'' interest, and getting to the bottom of it to both help the city and clear our names was definitely well up there on the important ¡®to do¡¯ list. But, if things did get hairy and we all needed to hightail it out of here, having a functional airship and a Captain who owed us a favor, could come in rather useful. What I was really crossing my fingers for however was the non-fugitive scenario. That we could solve the problems, then, should we decide to travel on and do a little world exploration, it¡¯d surely be a lot easier, and most likely much less dangerous, by air. Hot-stepping from town to town via the old ankle express did not sound too appealing. ¡°And you is, ey? I see no marks of Union affiliation.¡± ¡°It¡¯s just, I don¡¯t know if taking on some other task is a good idea right now.¡± Cinnamon says ignoring the airship captain, a strangely hostile edge to her normally soft voice. ¡°Remember, we do have much more important matters to attend to.¡± ¡°More important than my ship, ey?¡± Captain Reigns says with clear agitation. ¡°Oh, I do apologize. Did you get the impression that I was even vaguely interested in talking to you?¡± Cinnamons soft and sugary sweet delivery rocks me back on my heel. My mouth hanging open I¡¯m locked into stunned silence and I¡¯m positive the confused look that is plastered on the Captain face must be on my own. A quiet "Gad-damn!" chuckle whispers from Kryst still in her leather bag hidey hole. Captain Reigns recovers more quickly than I do and the icy glare she shoots toward Cinnamon chills my bones. I pivot on a heel, fearing how the antagonistic stance of the airship captain might distress my timid bunny girl companion. I needn¡¯t have worried. The dagger like stare that Cinnamon returns from under the dark shadows of her hood is sharp enough to slice paper. I feel my palms get inexplicably slick and the hairs on the back of my neck begin to rise, sending a tingle racing down my spine as neither women break eye contact in the impromptu staring contest. ¡°Wasting time working on her ship--" ¡°Wasting time?!¡± Captain Reigns steps forward, her nose inches from Cinnamons. ¡°If he can do maintenance on the Phoenix while we at dock then that is least that we are owed while situation with my fairies gets sorted!¡± Captain Reigns turns her attention back toward the goblin, ¡°Mr. Plogz. I expect this will be done, ey?" Ah crapsicles. This wasn¡¯t going the way I hoped. Cinnamon had inadvertently turned this from me doing the Captain a favor into some kind of owed task. I have to fix this somehow. I¡¯m about to speak when another chill shoots down my neck and spine. Drow sense tingling! Sonofa-sea biscuit! I completely missed the signs with the perfect storm of feminine tension brewing in front of me. I look around, reflexes kicking into overdrive, senses riding a razor edge between focus and fear. The platforms on the cliff side are alive with movement, but something pulls my attention to one of the crane pallets. A shadow moves, slides ghostlike between two crates and an object flies toward us. I throw my body forward into Cinnamon and Plogz... Unlocked: General Combat Action: TACKLE! Casual Strength vs Cinnamon: Success! Casual Strength vs Plogz: Success! Casual Strength vs Captain Isabella Ravena Reigns: Success! ...we all land in a heap on top of Captain Reigns, limbs flailing as a crack and pop of what sounds like a firecracker bursts at the back of the lifter. ¡°Hey? What in the hells is going on out there?¡± Kryst yells. Everything happens in slow motion. Gripping the safety bar, I manage to untangle myself from the pile of soft feminine flesh, and Plogz. The elevator shudders and I hear the squeal of gears as they twist, trembling with the strain. Metal shrieks, and the smaller cogs explode. We all instinctively duck for cover to the sound of shrapnel pinging and bouncing off the metal framework of the elevator. A few chunks pepper my back and legs but it¡¯s not enough to cause any damage through my armor. The elevator drops a good three feet, before slamming to a halt with a knee buckling stop, it holds for a inhale of breath, the machinery making a heavy knocking sound that sends vibrations through my joints. Another scream of steel and I see Cinnamons eyes go wide in fear and I know mine are doing the same, then my stomach leaps into my throat as the platform drops straight into freefall. Chapter 29: Falling for You My scream of fright is thankfully drowned out by the high pitched shriek of the wagon wheel sized gears spinning like buzz saws at the sides of the lifter. Wits save vs Fear: Success! Somehow, I manage to steel my nerves and my head whips toward Cinnamon to see her big brown eyes filled with terror. I make a desperate grab for her wrist. With a strange flash of magenta, something brightly colored tumbles through the air and instead of Cinnamon''s arm I find myself instead holding a small, squirming furry limb. Bunnimon makes a loud squeal of protest and I let out a string of expletives that would make a sailors ears redden with shame. The sudden fright must have triggered her transformation curse and... Kryst! She was in Cinni''s bag! I glance upward as I pull the struggling rabbit to my chest and see the disoriented fairy in the midst of an aerial cartwheel. With a flick of her gossamer wings to stabilize herself Kryst looks about confused then rockets toward us like a bullet. "Too Tall, what happened?!" Kryst shouts over the rush of wind as she catches up, flying alongside the falling elevator. "Dunno!" Is the only answer I can give. Plogz is clinging to the floor of the lift and I yank him to his feet. "Gotta get off!" Platforms and catwalks fly by on either side of us. If Cinnamon hadn''t freaked out maybe she could have jumped to one of them. Fright grips my chest. What do I do?! Captain Reigns, already on her feet, snatches at my side. Her hands scrabble over me. My panic rises even further as the image of a drowning man dragging their rescuer down with them fills my brain. She spins me around however, and I feel her pull the leather buttoned straps off the side of my backpack, freeing my length of looped rope and grappling hook. By the time I''ve turned back around she is twirling it in a blur, looking over the edge of the lift at a fast approaching series of walkways. Yes! Oh sweet Mary Mother! Please! This has to work! I unceremoniously shove poor Bunnimon into my pack hoping that I haven''t hurt her while at the same time I practically kick Plogz into the Captains leg. The goblin needs no further prompting and immediately latches onto one of the shapely coco-skinned beauty''s appendages like a lamprey. We are moving so quickly even if the rope catches I sincerely doubt that we will we be able to hold on. If I wasn¡¯t out of mana from my fall off of the rooftops before maybe I could have used my sword. An idea shoots through my brain even faster than we¡¯re falling. The blade flies into my hand with quick draw and I shove it between a few of the belts on Captain Reigns hips. "Magic sword! Slow fall!" I manage to shout in her ear as she sends the grappling hook sailing. I don''t know if she understood and there is zero time for further explanation anyway. The hook strikes true and she tenses for a moment before both her and Plogz are pulled upward and off the lifter. The rope lashes around wildly and I make a mad grab for it, seizing it before it flashes out of reach. Brian Status: HP: 6 / 12 Stun: 18 / 22 Mana: 2 / 10 White hot pain bursts in my shoulders and up my arm as the rope goes taunt. Strength check: Fail! Dexterity check: Success! Somehow I manage to keep my hands closed around the rope even as I slide down further toward the end, the rope slicing into my palms. Already far above me, the Captain doesn''t seem to be sharing my dire predicament. "Hold on, Brian!" Kryst shouts buzzing to my left. Brian Status: HP: 5/ 12 Stun: 15/ 22 Mana: 2 / 10 "I''m trying!" I scream, but I''m still sliding fast and it feels like I''m trying to slow myself down by holding onto razor wire. Worse yet, I''m swinging in a wide arc straight toward the cliff face. Strength check: Critical Fail! Abruptly, I reach the end of my rope. It''s simply gone from between my hands and I''m sent flying. There are no spinning gears to cover my scream this time. A small flock of seagulls scatter in the air around me and I feel a strange unexpected purchase as my passive Elven Lightstep ability triggers when my foot touches onto one of the bird''s backs. Muscle instinct takes over and in a blatant disregard for physics the animal barely dips as I somehow push off of it in a controlled somersault toward the rock face. Acrobatics: Success! This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it Spinning about I angle my feet toward the craggy cliff face and hit it running, my boots scraping at the slight cracks and finger width lips of rock, propelling me upward. My elation is very short lived as I feel the tug of gravity attempting to take hold. Spider-man I am not. In desperation I will my body to move, trying to keep my feet under me. Run-hop, jumping from small outcrop to broken crag, aiming for a hanging platform some twenty feet away. However the small protrusions of rock are now growing few, and way too far between. "Kryst! I need you girl!" I yell pointing ahead to the wide gap of smooth flat stone between me and the rusty platform of salvation. "What?!" Kryst shouts back but thankfully races ahead to where I''ve indicated, darting about like a humming bird. "Gimme a boost!" A smile of realization flashes on Kryst''s face. She performs a quick martial movement, glowing with magenta energy then takes a readied midair stance. I launch toward where the fairy is hovering, tucking my legs under my body. Kryst uses Special Ability: Thunder Kick! Special Effect: Double Knockback Our feet touch and the force of her blow hits at the same time that I spring off, sending me barreling toward the platform; fired upward by the combination of my Lightstep and her bad-ass kung-fu. Brian Status: HP: 2/ 12 Stun: 4 / 22 Mana: 2 / 10 Even if it does feel like she may have shattered a few of the bones in my foot still I manage to twist and hit the wall just above the ledge. Using my shoulder and side armor to absorb most of the impact I roll onto my stomach to avoid crushing Bunnimon between my body and the platform. The maneuver causes me to slide a good 10 feet before friction and my flailing limbs stop me. Brian Status: HP: 2/ 12 Stun: 1 / 22 Mana: 2 / 10 The corroded metal protests and bolts snap like gunshots. The section of the platform buckles and the end I''m on drops. Blackness and spots of white flood my vision but with my fingers digging into the grill style metal work I manage to cling to it and not tumble off. I dangle by one arm, feet searching for traction. My guts tighten and muscles like steel springs bunch. I grit my teeth and hand over hand, yank my body up. General Skill: Climbing: Success! Finally my waist clears the edge and I shuffle crawl forward, gulping in massive breaths of air then plop down into a sitting position and take a Recovery. I try to get my thundering heartbeat under control and steady my nerves to stop my hands from shaking. It proves to be absolutely futile. Most likely because there is probably more adrenaline pumping through my veins than blood at the moment. Darting over the edge of the platform Kryst appears with magenta hued sparkles trailing from behind her wings. A look of relief washes over her face. "You see! What did I tell you before, Too Tall? The sky is no place for amateurs." She gives me a shake of her head and a side cocked smirk. "Good thing you elves are so light on your feet." "Thankyouthankyouthankyou..." Ignoring her ''aim to aggravate'' dig I snatch the little Barbie doll fairy in both hands and shower her face, neck and most of her upper body with kisses to express my undying gratitude. "Alright, enough of that." I hear an uncharacteristic giggle from Kryst and her little arms push my face away. She then gets a mischevious glint to her eyes. "Besides you shouldn¡¯t go starting what you ain''t prepared to finish." Kryst places her hands on either side of my lips and leans forward to plant a kiss on them. Her tongue can¡¯t be any larger than the tip of a pencil, but when she darts it out to flick the edge of my own a sudden and near overwhelming sense of euphoria races through my body. My muscles, every one of them, stiffen as the pleasure centers in my brain flash on and off like Christmas lights. Kryst pulls back and just as quickly the endorphin fueled rush disappears. Wiggling free of my grasp Kryst gives me a stinging but playful slap on the cheek with a teeny hand then takes to the air. My face flushes and I can only hope my dark indigo skin tone is hiding my embarrassment. A taste lingers in my mouth, a nectar or honey like sweetness and there is a pleasant tingling feeling on the tip of my tongue. I want to ask what it is, what exactly she did to cause me to have such a reaction. Never mind why she did it. I manage to refrain, keeping my curiosity in check. She was probably just trying to push my buttons. More than a little self-conscious I look away from the fairy and peek over the edge to see a cloud of dust at the base of the cliff where the lifter must have impacted. I''m still a little wary of the stability of the platform we are on too. It seems to be some kind of aged scaffolding that has fallen into disrepair from lack of use or just plain neglect. I start to stand but agony lances through my foot, up my leg and I crumple back onto my backside with a bang. "What in the hells happened up there? Some kind of mechtanical failure? " Kryst says fluttering over to land on a pipe and glancing upward, "I always thought goblins were supposed to be masters crafters with Geartech construction and the like." "It wasn''t an accident." I say, thinking back to the figure I saw on the crane pallet. Something about the way they had blended into the dark recesses and the blurring of its movement reminded me of my own Shadow Meld ability. Was it a Drow that attacked us? I search around looking for where the container filled pallet was being lowered and spot it far above on another platform. People and goblins are rushing about along the walkways and I concentrate on the various group, trying to pick out the would be assassin in the confusion. Perception: Fail! It''s no use. Whoever they were they must have slipped away by now, or simply blended in with the crowds. Shrugging off my pack I lift the flap. Bunnimon is curled up in my clothes, shivering slightly. I reach in to pet her soft fur while making a soothing shushing sound. She seems to relax a little more when I pull her out of the bag and place her in my lap, stroking her ears. "It''s okay, Cinni-bunny. We''re okay now." I coo-say to her. "You sure about that? You don''t look so good." Kryst says, giving me a questioning raised eyebrow. The fairy is right. Now that I''m not in danger of a ''tumble down to splatter on the rocks'' death, everything is hitting me all at once. I''ve managed to at least catch my breath but it''s easier to figure out what parts of my body don''t hurt in comparison to what does. Brian Status: HP: 2/ 12 Stun: 22 / 22 Mana: 2 / 10 "I think I''ll be alright." I try and push the agony out of my mind, "What happened to Plogz and Captain Reigns? Did you see if they made it?" "I was a little busy chasing after you.¡± Kryst replies. "Yeah. Thanks again for sticking with me." I say even as my eyes dart about searching for any sign of the goblin and female swashbuckler. Perception: Success! "Wait there they are." I say spotting Captain Reigns and Plogz moving along a series of connected walkways and bridges, working their way down to us. Followed close behind by a dozen or so city guard. Chapter 30: Balancing Act "Say it again. Go on! Say it one more time and I swear, I will slap you in the mouth." "Kryst, I can''t even stand." From my seat on the walkway I look up at the irate fairy. When confronted with the opportunity to simply fly off and leave Cinnamon and I, she adamantly refused. The shield of tough-girl armor that she wrapped herself in was chipping. I can''t help but feel more than a gentle plucking on the ol'' heart strings. Brash, so frickin'' over the top intense, a chip the size of the rock of Gibraltar on her shoulder. Damn-it, if she wasn''t loyal to fault. We barely knew each other but already there was a nearly tangible connection growing between each one of us. I''d known people for years who I felt less of an attachment to than these women. Was it this world? That kind of unspoken rule at the gaming table. The one that forced players to make bonds at an accelerated rate to form up as a party of adventurers. Or maybe I was over thinking it. Could this simply be what happened between people when exposed to out of the ordinary, life and death circumstances? Perhaps it was more along the lines of the camaraderie formed between firefighters, police or soldiers. But that took extended periods of time too. Right? Or... I swallow involuntarily. Was it something else? I look at Kryst standing defiant, hands on her hips and my pulse quickens. My lips tingle at the memory of the kiss we shared a few moments ago, but this time the rush that goes through me isn''t one of an overactive libido. I push the feeling down. I just hope that I won''t have lots of time to contemplate it further while sitting in a jail cell. The guards will reach us soon. Groups of them are doing the cop thing. Directing people on the far adjacent lifter platforms, attempting to deter rubberneckers, and I suppose, getting statements and the like. If they are anything like the police in the really real world, there is no way they will just let us go on our merry way after direct involvement with the elevator incident. We will be detained for questioning, and at that point, if the two guards on the street we encountered earlier were any indication, it''s a very slim chance that they won''t realize we are the ones with the APB out on us. I just hope those guard we knocked out in the alley were still in dreamland and hadn''t been found yet. If they have? Well, how''d it go? Out of the frying pan, dot, dot, dot. "They are going to be down here in minutes if not sooner." I decide to refrain from telling her to ''get out of here'' again. Just in case she does indeed follow through with her promised delivery of bodily harm. "Look, Too Tall. Why don''t you use those pointy ears of yours for something other than looking pretty." Kryst says. "I didn''t agree with this plan of yours to go running from a scrap to begin with and I''m damn sure not going to leave you or Carrots here to deal with what''s coming in your piss poor conditions." Pluck. Pluck. Pluck. She was right, though. We are in really bad shape. Cinnamon isn''t injured. At least, I pray she isn''t. The shape she is in, however, is still that of a downy soft, and ridiculously cute, bunny rabbit. I''m a different story. My hands feel like they''ve been dipped in lava. Unfortunately I had chanced a glance at them few minutes ago. That alone had made my stomach do more somersaults than I had performed in my death defying parkour-robatics on the cliff. I hadn''t looked again, the image was already seared into my brain. The rough, hemp rope had done a real number on my palms and fingers. Shredding flesh and slicing away at the meat. Surprisingly, it was less blood than I would have imagined, but the skin looked horrible. Torn in flaps and groves to expose the muscle underneath. Large raised blisters with white and pink tinted discolorations, made even brighter against my dark skin. I shudder and the movement makes me to grind my teeth. The slightest twitch caused agony and with every second that passes my fingers stiffen more and more. Not that I wanted to engage in a fight with the quickly approaching guards but there was no way I could even ball up a fist let alone draw my handgun for any sort of confrontation. Just the thought of discharging my firearm and feeling the buck of the heavy pistol''s recoil causes another shot of pain and an increase to the burning sensation in my hands. The second problem was with my feet. The right one in particular. It must have been the foot to take the brunt of Kryst''s kick and as bad the pain in my hands are it feels ten times worse. Thankfully, I couldn''t see the injury. My boot had already become soaked in blood and the thought of removing my footwear to inspect the damage was truly frightening. I only hoped that the hamburger like condition, that had now firmly taken root in my mind, was simply my imagination running wild on me. I sincerely doubted that was the case. Either way, there was no way I was moving from where I now sat. "What do you expect us to do, Kryst? Please. You are the only one of us that can-- " "I ain''t going nowhere." The fairy cuts me off then glances back to the end of the walkway. The muscles in her jaw tense. "Not this time." Huh? My forehead wrinkles. If it wasn''t for my sharper than human senses I wouldn''t have picked up the added whisper. My mouth opens to speak when I feel a heavy weight settle in my lap. The sudden pressure makes me start in alarm and spasms of pain wrack my body. In a vicious cycle the action repeats causing me to shake and tremble over and over. The pain continues until I manage to steady my breathing and force myself to keep still. "Brian?! Oh goodness." Cinnamon has a her hand to her mouth. She looks me over and lets out a gasp when she sees my tattered hands and blood soaked leg. She reaches over and touches my face in a soft caress. "Nice of you to join us, Carrots." Kryst all but grins. "Hey, Cinni-buns. " I manage a weak smile after the exhausting muscle spasms. Cinnamons fingers leave my cheek. Positioned for speedy accessibility she plucks a few of the small colored vials and bottles from the belts and strapped on holders on her waist and arm. Interesting that her clothes changed with her. Some games do use that as part of transformation magic. A kind of side effect that allows items and equipment to merge with the new creatures form. It must have been because Kryst is a living creature that she was not absorbed into Cinnamons bunny body along with her clothing and carried accessories. "Here, drink this, Brian. I''m sorry it''s not stronger." She places the tiny bottle to my lips and tips my head back gently. A tasty blend of sweet fruit juice fills my mouth and like a man in a desert I gulp it down. It quenches a thirst that I didn''t realize that I had.Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings. A prickling, like parts of my body have fallen asleep ripples through me. The sensation settles then seems to concentrate in all the locations where I''ve sustained injuries over the past few days, but the tingle is particularly strong in my hands, legs and feet. There are a few sharp tinges of pain like I''ve been poked with needles and an odd... wrong sensation. As if the flesh and muscle fibers are twisting, writhing around as if it they have a will of their own. In the next instant I feel... better? Still absolutely awful, but the pain in my leg is now a steady dull throb and much of the stiffness in my fingers has diminished. Brian Status: HP: 5/ 12 Stun: 22 / 22 Mana: 2 / 10 Cinnamon pops open a container that'' s made from the carapace of an insect the size of a peach. She scoops out a white colored salve. Taking my hands she slathers it over the ruined skin. I flinch at first, fearing the medicinal sting but there is only a cool numbness instead. A wave of relief washes through me. There is a bit of that weird sensation again and I look down at my sticky hands as the effect takes place. In total fascination I watch as the smaller cuts knit before my eyes, leaving behind smooth unblemished skin. The injuries are still there but whatever this stuff is, I feel amazing. Brian Status: HP: 6/ 12 Stun: 30 / 22 Mana: 2 / 10 "This will heal some of your wounds and help relieve any pain you''re feeling." Cinnamon dips her fingers into the container again and spoons out more ointment into my palms and onto other places where the rope has burned me. The color and consistency of the marvelous anesthesia cream reminds me of the lotions and hair products that I''ve often stacked the shelves with at my old job. It even smells the same. A delicious cherry almond scent that transports me back to when a supply case of said product had busted open in shipping. The stuff had gotten everywhere. Soaking into wooden pallets and cardboard alike, it made the entire storage room smell like some kind of tropical bakery for more than a week. Wonderful as that sounds, and as infinitely preferable to Greta the Grendel''s noxious cigarette smoke, it had been hell on me as the strong, albeit delightful, fragrance had been just another of the many triggers for my old, overly sensitive, sinuses. I didn''t have that problem anymore. Just a stack of new ones. A smile creeps onto my lips. Slowly at first until I am grinning like an idiot. I can''t help it. The memory of snuffling and sneezing like a bad actor in a cold and flu medication commercial stirs something in me and I laugh out loud. My boring old life. Where my biggest woes were dealing with a toxic, tobacco fume fueled boss. Working menial jobs alongside snide co-workers. Paying the rent on my shoe box apartment. A lack games and friends to share them with. And of course, my total inability to garner any sort of interest from women. Alright, yeah. I guess there were some actual woes in there. In the distance past a forest of green, a larger than it should be, red-orange sun blazes in the sky over a beautiful azure sea. A playboy bunny girl and a hard bodied, kung-fu fairy are on either side of me. All of us hanging midway down an impossibly tall cliff on rust speckled, goblin constructed, piecemeal scaffolding. In the past few days I''ve faced and fought real monsters. Killed and eaten, an actual Naga and a dinosaur... thing. I''ve been slapped around by and then befriended both a fairy and a troll. Fallen off a building. Which doesn''t hold a candle to the follow up elevator sabotage plummet. Ran up a vertical rock cliff face after I jumped off a bird! Magic airships, steam-gear mechanical suits, a red and black tree the size of a skyscraper over my head. That and so much more. I''m a Drow. With a gun. The crazy of it all bubbles up. A chuckle rumbles up from my chest growing into full on laughter. Even the bit of pain that ripples through my body, just makes me laugh harder. Damn, I am so happy to be alive. Kryst and Cinnamon both look at me with worried expressions. "I don''t understand." Cinnamon glances to the near empty container, as if it could be the cause of my chuckles, "Brian are you alright?" "Don''t worry." There is wetness at the corner of my eyes, "It only hurts when I laugh." The corny line sends me off into another fit. "Gracious, he may be going into shock." Cinnamon bits her lip nervously. "I didn''t think I kicked him that hard." Kryst says. "You kicked him?" Cinnamon gasps. "He told me to! Beside it was either that or have the two of you get smooshied." Kryst turns toward me but her mouth is curling up in a smile as the infectiousness of my giggling starts to get to her, "Will you stop laughing!" "Okay, Okay." Still chuckling I nod then wipe the tears from the corners of my eyes against my shoulder At the end of an overhead platform the guards have somehow gotten ahead of Plogz and Captain Reigns, perhaps they pushed past the slower moving goblin or had merely taken a different route on the multitude of interconnected walkways. The how isn''t that important, only that they are moving down a last series of steps in their hurry to get to us. "You three. Stop right there." One of the guards shouts, "We''ve got you." I glance about confused. A few feet away from me a grate squeaks, hanging by a couple of loose bolts at the dead end of the platform. Over a drop into hundreds of feet of nothingness. "Yeah. Another fine collar, Colombo." I shake my head. They all but skid to a halt a few yards away. These guards are dressed in the same style of leather armored uniforms as the two we''d encountered in the alley. Their swords are still in the scabbards on the hips but most have their mahogany colored wooden truncheons in hand. "Afternoon officers. How can we help you today." I say with a cheerful smile. Awkwardly they glance between one another, clearly not expecting my calm and friendly delivery. "You three are wanted for questioning." A man with tousled blonde hair in the lead states. He has a crest that is a little larger than the others with a few horizontal lines under the tree imagery. It''s easy enough to figure out it symbolizes a higher rank. "On what grounds?" I address the leader, still keeping with the smile and calm tone. "If that lifter incident wasn''t cause enough, " he nods toward the bottom of the cliff, "You happen to match the description of some perpetrators who attacked members of the Cityguard." His eyes shift to Kryst and back to me. Hell in a handbasket. Out of the frying pan dot, dot, dot, it is. "You will hand over your weapons and come with us." "And if we don''t?" Kryst says from where she stands on the safety rail. Before the he can speak a barrel chested guard with a bulbous nose muscles to the front of the group. He regards Kryst with a sneer "Then we crack your heads and drag you in anyway." He lets out a humph, "Your kind have caused enough trouble around here, speck. So please, just give me a reason." The blonde man''s mouth twitches into a frown directed toward the back of the larger guard. It''s clear he wants to berate the man for the outburst but his eyes dart onto to us again and he keeps silent. Kryst, however, has no such qualms speaking her mind. "Don''t go and square up on me, fatso." She crosses her arms and leans back with a derisive grunt of her own, "Unless you actually prefer the taste of soup to solid food." The guards all pause at the threat. Some grin with laughter, glancing between each other. "Insolent bug!" Anger flashes in the big guard''s eyes and he pulls a small burlap sack from his belt. Held open in one hand like a trash bag he reaches out with the other to snatch the fairy from her perch. His fingers almost close around her tiny form but then, like liquid lightning, Kryst blurs into movement. The guard manages only a single grunt of pain and topples backward to thump onto the walkway. The metal and wooden structure shakes in protest and by the looks on the faces of the other guards it is more than just my tail-hole that tightens. Except for the wind and the creaking scaffolding a hush descends. Magenta energy dances over her body. One fist outstretched, the other close to her chest, Kryst slowly straightens from her stance. The bag the guard dropped slips through the grate to tumble through the air. Slowed by the blustery gusts. Kryst hops down onto the walkway and positions herself between our two groups. Like she''s straight out of a old kung-fu flick, complete with billowing silk outfit and whipping sound effects she twists her torso and flashes her arms back and forth in a high-speed martial form. "Right!" Fingers mimicking claws Kryst tucks down low. By her smile she can''t wait to fly into the lot of them and dish out some Ip man meets Ken and Ryu styled beat downs. "Let''s get ugly." Chapter 31: Youre Under... Arrest? "No!" Struggling to my feet I lean a forearm on the rail for support, "Kryst, stop it." A shift lets me test a bit of weight on my foot. It sends a throb through my leg but I can stand. "Yes. Listen to Brian." Cinnamon places a hand on my shoulder then addresses both Kryst and the blonde guard, "Please. I really think this has all just been a big mistake. We only arrived yesterday and we haven''t done anything wrong. I''m sure if we all sat down and discussed this amicably everything will be cleared up in no time." "Yeah." I nod my affirmation, glad that Cinnamons soft voice is there to help calm the tense situation. I nearly reach over to pat her hand but catch myself at the last second. The miracle cream may have relieved the pain in my hands for the moment, but I don''t want to test it. "We may be new to the city but we''re did not come here to cause any sort of trouble." I say. "Doesn''t look that way to me." The lead guard says. Worry lines pull at the corner of eyes set into otherwise young face and, I see now, that there are more than a few grey hairs running throughout his wavy blonde hair.. Behind him most of the guards have put away their batons and instead now have firm grips on the hilts of their swords. The blades drawn a few inches. I hold up my hands in surrender. To a man, the guards flinch when they get a good look. The ruined appearance of my palms made all the more disgusting by the shiny layer of cream. "We are not resisting." I clear my throat toward the fairy who hasn''t moved a muscle. I hear her give a growl of annoyance followed by a suck of her teeth. "Isn''t it that right, Kryst?" I poke her a bit with my injured foot. Kryst huffs then straightens up, crossing her arms, practically pouting like a child. "Whatever." She says. "Then, down on the ground." The larger guard finally stands. His legs and voice seem a bit shaky. "Hands behind your backs!" He yells the command looking to draw strength from the aggressive volume. "That''s enough, Henrick." The lead guard states, silencing the larger man. "Your actions have already escalated this more than it needed to be. Now unless you received a promotion that I have not been informed of you will stand there with your eyes open and mouth shut. Are we clear?" "But, they--" "I said, are we clear?" The edge to the lead guards voice is all business. "Yes, sir." Getting slapped down by Kryst and then berated by his superior seems to suck the last bit of bluster from the big man. He gives a sheepish nod and steps to the side. A few of the guards share silent, snickering grins behind his back. The blonde man takes a long breath, clearly annoyed at having to discipline a subordinate in front of us. He turns back to us when a familiar voice rings out. "What''s this now?" Plogz voice drifts over the assembly. "Seems the sniffs need new sets of spectacles." The blonde guard lets out a sigh and I swear he ages ten years before my very eyes. "Seeing as that be the case I will get special order arranged with the crafters and a billing invoice sent to the constabulary, post haste." Plogz continues. One by one the guards part like the red sea. The small goblin waddles through the lot toward the front of the line. Captain Reigns following a few steps behind. With an air of authority Plogz stops in front of the blonde guard and looks up to address him. "Marshal Tomas." Both hands placed on top of his cane Plogz nods a greeting. "Unless my peepers deceive that is a G.U signet upon his personage." Plogz lifts the end of his cane to point at my shredded hands. "Or am I confundled?" "You are making a jest right, Mr. Plogz." The guard''s face takes on the appearance of someone who has just sucked on a slice of vinegar soaked lemon. Tomas then leans over a bit and squints at my hand. Taking the cue, I turn it so the back is to him and he can get a better look at the blood stained ring on my finger.This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report. "Unbelievable." Tomas raises a hand to pinch at the bridge of his nose. "This is absolute piss-water." "Stamp certified the Darklander myself. Ink may be tacky and the seals still warm, but, legitimacy is assured. Shall I make assertations that you do not wish to bring MY position within G.U. to inquiry?" "Goblin Union or not. Either way it doesn''t change the fact that they are to be detained. A pair of Cityguard were attacked this morning by a perpetrators matching the description of these three." Plogz stiffens and he glances over toward us. His eyes narrow in a disapproving glare and his lips tighten into a hard line. "Were they killed?" Plogz asks, the concern in his voice clear. A long drawn out pause follows the question before Marshal Tomas finally replies. "No." "Did they sustain any injuries? What happened, Tomas?" Again a pause follows. Eventually the guard shakes his head. "From what I''ve gathered, no. They were both simply knocked unconscious and their bodies hidden in an alley." The tension in Plogz face softens. "Good." Releasing a held breath in relief the goblin, gives me the barest hint of a nod. The goblin rubs at his stubbly chin for a moment as if contemplating something then glances back to meet the guards eye."And there were, of course, witnesses to this assault." "They attacked members of the Cityguard." "Allegedly." Plogz shrugs. "Mr. Plogz, I''m only trying to do my job here." Tomas says. "Then you should do it better, Tomas. You are attempting to make an arrest in Cragcliff yet I have received no notifications of such." "Alright. This is a official notification then." "Very well." Plogz nods his head then turns his attention back toward me. "Brian. Do you have your peers selected?" Tomas blinks down at the goblin in a state of complete shock. The other guards glance to each other a few of them shrugging. I look to Cinnamon and Kryst, but judging by their blank expressions they don''t know what is going on either. "Seriously?" Tomas asks the goblin. "Once a Redtree signed and notarized G.U. member has been made aware of detainment, and they has acknowledged and/or sworn willingness to co-operate with authoratives, then said G.U. member must be accompanied by a number of peers as to maintain cognitive cohesion during the stages of processing, prosecutioning and sentences as to guarantee full understanding and the ramifications of potential charges and punishments." Cognative Cohesion? I boggle. Isn''t that what Kryst and Cinnamon were telling me about before? That weird hive mind thing that goblins share? "This is ridiculous." Marshal Tomas says angirly. "First of all that was passed when the Union was in its infancy here in Redtree. You know as well as I that there are more than enough goblins in the city to maintain the connection well outside city limits. On last account it extended almost to the town of--" "That is not either there nor here." Eyes closed, Plogz shakes his head from side to side, "Until council voted and addendumied passed --" "And second!" Tomas interrupts Plogz indicating me with one outstretched hand, "He. Isn''t. A goblin!" "Really, Tomas? I''m surprised at you. According to the letter written there be no stipulications that the G.U. member in question need be of any specificified racial or--" "You know what?!" Tomas throws up both hands, his eyes all but rolling to the back of his head in irritation. "I''m not doing this dance with you today, Mr. Plogz. Because, as much as you love to be a thorn in my ass, today this particular bothersome prick is one I can pass on up the chain of command." "You. What''s your name? Brian something?" Marshal Tomas points at me sharply. I nod. "Brian Brantley." "Brian Brantley, you will be taken into custody for questioning by the Redtree Cityguard. You must take three and up to five," he shakes his head in disbelief and holds out hands with fingers outstretched to give a visual of the numbers, "of your peers to accompany you so that you may be in full comprehension of the proceedings. Do you understand?" "Yeah. Sure I suppose." I glance to Plogz who nods. I attempt to sound as official as possible, "I chose Cinnamon Butter, Kryst Thunderfist and... umm, Mr. Plogz? Would you mind?" "Of course not, Darkson. I insist." "Stupidest thing I''ve ever been privy too in my life." Tomas shakes his head talking low but loud enough for all to hear. He reaches back to a pouch on his belt and pulls out a leather case about the same size and dimensions as a iphone or perhaps a small reading tablet. In much the same way he flips the leather cover open to reveal a dark grey nearly black slate. Taking a pencil length sharpened stick from a holder on the inside of the case he starts to etch into the slate angrily, the letters glowing white. "Three out of four of them are wanted for taking part in the altercation anyway." Tomas continues his muttering complaints. "Alleged altercation." Plogz corrects. Tomas jaw tightens but he bites back a retort. Instead he merely waggles his pencil like stick toward the goblin while shooting him a dirty look. "Mr. Brantley? I would also ask if I too may join you, ''ey?" Captain Reigns nods her head, that spicy attitude tinting her voice, "There are words that I wish to have with authorities concerning the acquisition of my fairies." "And Captain uhh.. Isabella Ravena Reigns too." I add. "Sure. Why not." Tomas gives another roll of his eyes before returning to his writing. Chapter 32: Moving on up. A cool breeze washes over the catwalks. It rattles at dangling cables and whistles through the skeletal latticework''s that sprout like vines between the homes and business that cling to the sides of the enormous cliff. None of us had been too keen on spending any more time than absolutely necessary on the rickety catwalk that had saved my, and Cinnamons, life. So the guards had escorted us up a few flights of steps onto of the more stable platforms. There we paused for a few minutes, removed our weapons and stowed them into our packs. With the bags handed over to a couple of our escort we''d started to make our way back toward the Airship docks. The guard steer us along a bridge that overlooks a large landing that juts into and out from a huge cave. Naturally formed over most likely hundreds of years the crevice tunnels deep into the bedrock of the city overhead. And is crawling with workers. I spot a few dwarves that look to be overseeing much of the stone shaping and cutting but there are races of all types involved in the workforce. Particularly, as was to be expected, Goblins. Clustered together they tended to operate in smaller groups separate from the non-goblins. And a good thing too. There was the same slap-stick styled comedy of errors going on amongst each of the squad like clusters of goblins. All of us, save Plogz, slow to take in the near calamitous efficiency. I shake my head unable to stop my happy smile as I watch one goblin shoring a section of wall with brick while another swings a heavy maul style hammer overhead, missing the first by scant inches as he turns back and forth to grab new bricks from a pile. Both completely oblivious to each other. Accompanying the banging of hammers on stone, wood and metal there are other noises. Electricity buzzes from where goblins hang suspended from ropes and pulleys, some absurdly tangled, between metal girders. Even with my dark shades on, my eyes sting from the bright sparks that pop and hiss as they use a strange looking Magitech welding contraption to fuse beams together. "Construction seems to be moving at a good pace, Mr. Plogz." Tomas says, glancing toward the large tunnel and the work going on within. "That be a factual. She''ll be ready to berth a hulk in no time." Plogz says. I marvel at the space as we pass. Magitech: Success! Airship tech: Success! "That isn''t a regular Airship dock, is it?" I ask, "Looks like more along the lines of a mechanized manufacturing platform." From the corner of my eye I see Plogz beady eyes dart toward Tomas. "Manufacturing?" Tomas brow knits and he glances toward me. "Nothing quite so extensive." Plogz waves his cane about dismissively and continues walking forward. "But more complexied repairs and retrofitings won''t be beyond the G.U. once she is up and running." We are headed towards a series of elevators now. Except for a few Goblins standing near the control levers the platform is empty. The lifters silent. Locked in place. This lifter differs from the previous in that it does not only rise up and down but slides side to side as well, connecting where we now stand to other walkways both above and below. A closer look confirms there are other patterns of lifters. Most don''t seem to make the journey all the way from top of the cliff to the bottom like the previous one had done. Many of them look to be able to travel both horizontally and vertically, or to even lock into place with other lifters to form bridges between gaps. The whole thing reminds me of some kind of puzzle in a video game where the player needs to turn particular switches to line up platforms in order close gaps that would be too far to jump across or to access other map areas. My stomach lurches just looking the steampunk turbo-lifts. I in no way want to get onto another of these death trap contraptions... Wits save vs Fear: Success! ...but I push down the anxiety as we continue down the steps and to the platform. "Mr. Plogz if you could come with me? The rest of you men wait here." Tomas says. While the Marshal and Plogz approach the goblin lifter crew we begin to spread out. Cinnamon, Kryst and I move over to a protrusion of rock. I lean against it to take a little weight off my leg. The only way off of the platform is via the elevators or back the way we came on. The guards mill about at stairs. Keeping their eye on us, but giving us some space to take a breather. The walk hadn''t been as bad as I had thought. The sweet smelling anesthetic cream Cinnamon had lathered me up with has been a godsend, taking the edge off the initial pain and bolstering my focus like I had slammed back a six pack of highly caffeinated energy drinks. As time passes however, I can feel the effects steadily dissipating. I do have a bit of a limp, but that may just be my own unwillingness to put undue pressure onto my injured foot. There is no question that I''m being overly cautious about gripping the rough wood or rusty handrails with my torn palms. I have no idea if the magic salve would fight off infection but I''m not looking to find out. I didn''t need splinters or to get lockjaw from tetanus. Captain Reigns separates from us as well. Walking out to the end of a pier like protrusion that juts out from the landing over the lake far below. The breeze tosses her hair gently. I think I catch her lips moving but I can''t tell for certain. Head tilted back, her eyes closed she stands stock-still. Catching the sun on her face. Marshal Tomas and Plogz stand with the goblins talking between each other. The human addresses the goblins directly though at times they seem to glance between him and Plogz as if not comprehending. Insight vs Goblin Workers: Success! Obviously clearing up translations I see the worker goblins nodding energetically to Plogz and I pick up excited chattering as they point toward various lifters, gears and even lean dangerously far over the rails to indicate the large cogwheels. As they chat the Marshal pulls out that same grey slate. He quickly reads over what he had written previously then wipes it down with a tiny cloth produced from a hip pouch. Like a eraser on a chalk board the faintly glowing notes fade until there is only smooth unblemished ash grey slate once more. The Marshal nods a few times as Plogz continues their conversation and he begins etching away at the pad again. It seems to be magical by the way that the words glow briefly and I study the device from afar. Magitech: Success! Scriber The common moniker for a wide variety of sending devices that allow written messages to be transmitted over large distances. A Scriber can be linked to other similar items using enchantment symbols or runestones. I get that familiar rush of knowledge. As if a Gamemaster has read out or quoted a short description for me. I try and draw on it like I had done when repairing Plogz mechtanical leg. Similar to my innate knowledge of Airship, Wargear and Golemtech engineering there comes a sudden wealth of understanding. Most Scribers use enchantment magic, but there is a bit of a crossover with Magitech. At least enough for me to gain knowledge of the materials used in their construction along with various uses of the devices. I feel a swell of delight as my brain releases a bit of dopamine... or is it serotonin? as I get a little more familiar with the workings of the world. Sometimes figuring out the rules of the game were just as much fun as the game itself. What can only be described as memory fills my mind. Scribestones, slates and plates. Some with small marbles or pebbles etched with runes that slot into groves. Wood and even metal Oujia board like devices with glowing symbols and letters. There are even Scriber businesses where news and mail can be transmitted to faraway lands. Most of the recollections that I have picture them as being expensive to produce and quite a bit larger than the small item Marshal Thomas is holding. That he has one that can be put into a pouch pocket is impressive. Perhaps the Marshal''s position is of a higher ranking that I initially thought? Knowing a number of the inner workings and various mechanisms of the magical ''text chat'' devices sparks a flurry of ideas. Ones that I may have to look into when I get some ''Jelf'' meditation time to spend my character points. Like the questions regarding Marshal Tomas position in the guard I push them out of my mind. For now, I''m a bit more interested in finding out what the goblin and human are discussing.The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. Perception: Fail! They are too far away for me to hear. However, I doubt that Cinnamon has the same problem I do. "Hey, Cinni?" I give a nudge to Cinnamon standing next to me and lower my voice to a whisper "What do you suppose they are talking about over there?" "Humm?" Her long ears swivel in the direction of the lead guard and trio of goblins to eavesdrop in on their conversation. "Oh, Marshal Tomas is asking about what happened on the lifter. For his report." "Plogz didn''t think it was an accident does he?" I ask. Cinnamon listens for a bit and I strain my own ears but I can''t hear anything but some low guttural murmurs and the cry of seagulls. Those bunny ears of hers are pretty amazing. "He isn''t sure what happened. The lifters do have safeties, but whatever caused damage to the gears must have broken the emergency mechtanics as well." Cinnamon says. Magictech: Success! That''s strange. I know that whatever could have wrecked the safety locks of the lift would have had to be pretty powerful. An explosive of some kind? Explosives: Success! I dismiss the idea. The elevator platform had been fairly large but not so big that we too wouldn''t have all been caught in the radius of a blast strong enough to damage the large cogwheels. Cinnamon is still eavesdropping on the conversation but she looks a bit annoyed. Her eyes dart toward the Airship Captain and I look over as well. Captain Reigns is still on the ledge but has taken a coin pouch from her belt, holding it at arm''s length out over the drop. With a deft movement she pulls a dagger from her hip and slashes the pouch. Gold and silver coins are sent tumbling out into the open air from the cleanly cut slit. She stands motionless until no more of the contents spill out then dumps the remaining coins in the ruined pouch into her hand and transfers them to a second coin purse on her belt. Did she just toss away a bunch of money? Why? The Captain turns and catches my boggling look. She gives me a smile and small nod. Cinnamon gives a soft suck to her teeth and I turn my attention back to her. Did she catch me staring too? "What''s up, Cinni? "Plogz is telling the Marshall that none of us would have made it off of the lifter if it wasn''t for the quick thinking and actions of you and..." Cinnamon folds her arms over her chest and continues with a insulting, but cute, sneer, "Captain Reigns." Whew. At least she didn''t catch me looking. But what the heck? If I didn''t know better I''d swear Cinnamon was part feline instead of rabbit by the catty attitude she has toward the sexy swashbuckler. "I dunno. I think I would have been alright." Kryst chuckles. "Not all of us have the luxury of defying gravity." I twist to regard the fairy hovering to my left and let out a small grunt. A sharp twinge pulls at my side. I''m sure I have a large bruise under my armor right where I''d slammed into the wall and walkway in my effort to avoid crushing Bunnimon. "Are you alright, Brian? You look to be in pain." Cinnamon has turned to look at me intently, worry knitting her brow. "Nah. Muscles are a little tight. Maybe have a couple of bruises is all." I raise my arm to stretch a bit, "How about you , Cinni? You weren''t injured during fall we''re you?" "Oh no. I''m fine." Cinnamon shakes her head. "Are you sure? When you were Bunnimon--" "Bunnimon?" She blinks at me with a confused, quickly turning to upset expression. Oops. Her rabbit curse is a very touchy subject. "I wasn''t poking fun. I just thought it was fitting. And, just like you... " I ladle on a big helping of sexy with a wink over the top of my shades, "pretty damn cute." Charm vs Cinnamon Butter: Success! Cinnamon ponders that for a moment then gives me a quick nod in agreement and her closed eyed smile. "I suppose you are right." She coos. "I''m glad you agree, Cinni-buns" I laugh, glad that I side stepped the landmine of hurt feelings. Yeah, I''m definitely getting better at this! Her demeanor and my own growing confidence pushes me on. Hoping to learn a little more about her curse I continue with some gentle prodding. "I was just wondering, what is it like? When you transform I mean." Cinnamon glances around for a moment as if to make sure there is no one within earshot and then gives a small shrug of her shoulders "It''s... different. Everything gets really..." She seems to struggle for the proper words, "I guess, really... big? Is the only way I can describe how it makes me feel. Everything is just way more focused and... and scarier." Her ears droop and she starts fidgeting with her fingers. The memory of Bunnimon squealing in panic as I''d stuffed the struggling rabbit into my knapsack resurfaces. There had been no time for gentleness in the moment and remembering the dreadful hi-pitched scream now makes my heart ache. It was as if I had stepped on a kittens tail and it had hiss-cried then scampered off, wounded and terrified of me. "Cinnimon?" My voice lowers in concern, "Listen. On the lifter everything happened so fast and I... Well, are you sure I didn''t hurt you? I don''t know how much you remember but, I had to put you in my bag and I might have been a little... rough." I give a weak apologetic shrug. "Nah. This one here?" Kryst interjects with a chuckle as she hovers between us. "She don''t mind a little of the rough stuff. Ain''t that right, Carrots?" Kryst aims a Cheshire grin toward Cinnamon then buzzes over to land on my shoulder. Cinnamons cheeks flush with embarrassment and the inside of her ears turn a interesting shade of pink. "Stop teasing her, Kryst." "Teasing?" The fairy laughs then plops down on my shoulder, sprawling out like a lazy cat. "Rrrrright." My mind immediately begins to whirl as Kryst words burrow into my brain to take root in my intrigued libido. Just what have these two been talking about? Luckily, Cinnamon recovers from her shyness quickly and interrupts my naughty thoughts with a cute clearing of her throat. Steering my focus back to the conversation. "Yes, so umm... anyways, I find that I''m much more impulsive when I''m under the curse. It''s as if my body would rather respond on pure instinct. If I am not careful I react without meaning to." "What do you mean?" I ask, finally shooing away the lewd imagery. "Well, okay, you know when I changed and you were holding me on the lifter? My first instinct was to bite you and escape." She averts her eyes from mine. "I''m glad that you didn''t." "No. I managed to catch myself. But it takes so much effort. Everything is terrifying. It took all the self-control I had not to try and simply get away from you and find something to hide underneath." Cinnamon lets out a full body sigh, "I am sorry that I was no help." She trails off, her eyes downcast. "Again." Uh-oh. There''s that self-depreciation of hers rearing its ugly head once more. "I don''t know about that, Cinni. If you hadn''t ''bunnied on'' like you did I have no idea how we would''ve all gotten off of that lifter. The reality that we''d nearly plummeted to our death is still fresh in my mind but I need to keep playing it cool like it ''ain''t no thang''. I smile and give a casual chuckle in an attempt to keep the mood light. "We saved all of our supplies." I motion to her backpack and mine hanging on the backs of the couple guards. I then point to the various potions and salves that were still on her belts. "And, I sure needed those. So in the end, making with the cute and fuzzy-wuzzy was a brilliant course of action." "Humm, I suppose." Cinnamon seems to contemplate my words and I keep at it. "And we have learned something from this too which could be really valuable information. Like, you remember things when you are in rabbit form, right? See, I thought that maybe you blacked out or lost time when you were under the effects." "Oh no, it''s nothing like that," Cinnamon shakes her head, "but while it is happening it feels like I''m trapped in a room looking out a window. Separated... but still. It''s almost as if I''m guiding the rabbit like you would with a horse''s reigns. Does that make any sense?" "Yeah, I think I get it." I nod. "I still understand everything that is happening around me. I know who you are, for example, and I can recognize and understand you but its more than just words too." "What do you mean?" I almost scratch my cheek but stop a moment before doing so when I catch the lingering cherry almond scent on my hands. She bites her lip, "When I was... Bunnimon and you were touching me, telling me everything would be okay. I knew you wouldn''t let me get hurt but I could sense a deeper connection. How you really felt. Protection, pity, attraction..." She gets a bit bashful and her ears droop in that coy way of hers and I''m fairly sure I am sporting a goofy grin. Does that mean she had she picked up that I was crushing on her in more ways than just a physical attraction? That I was starting to feel something much deeper toward her? Crap! If that was the case, did she also get a whiff of the emotions I had when Kryst gave me that oddly euphoric kiss? I get a weird impulse, like I want to pull at my collar with a finger and release a bit of heat from around my neck. "So you get some kind of... empathic ability?" I ask, attempting to move the conversation along quickly. "I suppose." Cinnamon shrugs. "That makes sense." Kryst pipes up. Leaning her back against my neck, her arms behind her head she sits straddling my shoulder. "What do you mean." Cinnamon asks. "It''s only logical." Kryst replies, "Animals are usually much more sensitive to empathetic queues. Pretty amazing really." "You say that like it''s a good thing." Cinnamon pouts. "Isn''t it?" Kryst chuckles, "You get to experience something that most don''t. Your senses open to the world around you. The animal part of you is amplified. And with that so too would your innate tie with nature strengthen." "Tie with nature?" Cinnamons eyebrows bunch together. "That is what I said. You see, most Beastkin have lost their, much closer than your average oblivious humanoid, connection to the wild. Sure there are still hold over''s like superior senses or..." Kryst points at Cinnamon with an elbow, "Alright, let''s use you as an example. Take your jumping ability. Not all Lepuri have that, do they?" "No." Cinnamon shakes her head, "I mean it isn''t uncommon for many of us to develop the ability. But then there are others who are much more fleet of foot than I am." Cinnamon says, "It''s rare for a Lepuri to have multiple traits. But it can happen." "Alright, but have you considered that this ''curse'' of yours could be a way to unlock hidden potential? Things that you''ve never dreamed of." Kryst shifts about on my shoulder and leans on her thighs as she regards Cinnamon. "Don''t get me wrong, the fact that you can''t get down and dirty or that you go all rabbit when you get spooked is plain awful. But, what if you could control it?" "Control it?" "Cinnamon blinks. "Do you think that is possible?" I ask turning my head at an awkward angle to glance at the fairy. "Who''s to say." Kryst gives a shrug of her tiny shoulders that tickles my neck. "Personally, I just think that simply dismissing it and ignoring the possibilities might be a mistake." I ponder over that nugget of information and look to Cinnamon who appears to be doing the same. "Then again, I''m not the one who has to live with it." Kryst says. The statement hangs in the air. "How about you, Kryst? You''re into the whole ''knowing your body, higher state of being'' thing, right? Could you, I dunno, teach her?" I shrug but Kryst has no trouble balancing with the movement, "Maybe like meditation or focusing techniques or something?" Cinnamons has a hopeful expression on her face and her eyes dart to where Kryst sits perched on my shoulder. "Possibly." The fairy sighs, "But that will take time." Kryst whispers and I detect a heavy dose of melancholy. Kryst''s sucks her teeth loudly in my ear making me wince. Her demeanor swings about in a sudden one eighty. "Why should I waste my energy showing her how to be a better bunny?" "Hey now, c''mon Kryst, that''s not cool. All I was asking--" "I know exactly what you were asking!" She buzzes off my shoulder and points at us angrily. "Believe it or not I have my own goals and responsibilities and helping either of you two get your rocks off? Ain''t one of them!" Whoa! What the heck? The vehemence in her speech catches me by surprise. Just when I think we were starting to jell things seem to take two steps back. "Why the nine hells are we sitting around here, anyway?"Kryst turns to the group of idle looking guards. "I''m tired of waiting for you buncha mud-foots to get a move on!" The guard glance between each other and around with looks of ''you talking to me'' confusion. "Let''s go!" Kryst yells, spreading her arms wide. "I would like that as well." Captain Reigns strides toward us with a sashay to her hips that looks like it belongs on a hip-hop starlet. She stops a few yards away, one hand placed on a cocked hip. "But I think we will have to be waiting for a bit longer, ''ey?" Chapter 33: Rabbits and Ravens "...you think that same thing will happen twice? You do not think that is slim chance, ey?" "No. I mean, Yes?" Cinnamons looks a bit nervous as she tries to wrap her head around the Captains accent laden double speak, "What I mean is that it doesn''t hurt to be careful. That''s all." Cinnamon still has an emotionally injured expression from Krysts verbal assault, although she has swung ever so slightly into a guarded posture directed towards Captain Reigns. The conversation regarding the reliability of the lifters and why we were still waiting for them to resume operation had been a short one between the two of them. Judging by the dismissive shake of the Captains head it had now reached its conclusion. Instead she directs her focus toward Kryst. Watching her with a keen interest. Annoyed at the delay the fairy has landed on the rounded stone outcrop we have all gathered around. Pacing about like a caged tiger she scuffs her feet and kicks small bits of lose rock from the stone. "Captain Isabella Ravena Reigns." She says quite formally to Kryst. The airship captain places one hand over a closed fist in front of her chest and, with her back straight, lowers her torso into a slight bow. "I am sorry we did not get introductions sooner." Kryst pauses in her kicking of a pebble and glances over to the Captain. She narrows her eyes then, lets out a frustrated sigh and turns sharply. In a much more crisp and practiced fashion she duplicates the bow. "Kryst Thunderfist." "May I say it is a real pleasure to meet you." Captain Reigns straightens and she shifts back into her relaxed pose. "It is always the blessed day when I find myself fortunate enough to converse with a Gleam." Kryst irritated body language softens with the ego stroking. "It is a shame that there are so few who appreciate just what it means to be in the company of a true world spirit." "Tell me about it." Kryst all but raises her nose in the air in smug agreement. "I do hope that you will do me the honor of engaging in some conversation when all of this... circumstances is sorted. Perhaps over a drink ey?" The Captain offers. "A drink?" "Yes. Apparently it is this rather delightful new social past time. Often shared between adults looking to get better acquainted." Captain Reigns gives Kryst a mirthful smile. "I''ve been told that it has become quite popular as of late." "Ha! You''re a bit of smarmy one, aren''t you." Kryst laughs, her aggravated attitude all but dissipating. "Just know that I don''t do those weak wines and foofie elf drinks." She makes a thumb toward me to accent the point and I find myself a bit offended. "But, tell you what. If you are plinking up the coin for the rum? Well then you can count on me to be there to drink it, sister." Kryst grins. "We can see how good the conversation is after we knock back a few." The Captain lets out a laugh and gives Kryst a clear nod of affirmation. I feel my brow involuntarily raise ever so slightly. Was Reigns up to something? Maybe it was simply my player character paranoia. Unwilling to take things at face value and looking for that sneaky second shoe to drop. I study the smile of the sexy Airship Captain, trying to get a read on her, to detect if anything is amiss... Insight vs Captain Isabella Ravena Reigns: Fail! ...but, there is nothing that jumps out to me that she isn''t being absolutely genuine in her heavy handed compliments toward Kryst. I suppose she is simply being sociable and friendly. I feel a tad guilty for my suspiciousness. After all I am fairly new at this being charming thing myself. Still smiling the Captain turns to me. She regards my dark shades for a long moment then slowly places a hand on a cocked hip. "And you. When I see you slip from the rope, I did not imagine that either you or your... rabbit," She smirks, "would live to see the sunset." "It was a close one." I nod. "That it was, ey? But I will say that your athletic prowess is impressive. One might go so far as to say it is..." Her tongue darts out quickly to wet her lips, "vigorous." "Oh? Ahem." I clear my throat and pray I''m not blushing. "Thank you, Captain." "A Drow who is an apparently very qualified mechtanic. So much he impresses a Goblin Union head like Mr. Plogz. And let us not forget the remarkable company you keep." She gives Cinnamon, but mostly Kryst, a brief glance. "A cool head to go along with the gunslinger swagger." Swagger? Was I getting some sort of benefit from my class? Well, I mean sure I did put a few extra points into presence. Or it could be a combo Allure and Presence thing. But really? Swagger?! I don''t think I''ve ever had swagger before. That''s pretty damn awesome! She holds my gaze with her own. A bit longer than necessary. "You are very interesting man, Mr. Brantley." "Easy now, ladyfriend. Mr. Brantley is my father." I chuckle, attempting to capitalize on my newfound ''swagger'' and not puff out my chest. "So what is it you prefer to be called then, eh?" "How about you call me ''anytime''?" I pause after the words have come out. WHOA! Did I just say that?! Judging by her smile she doesn''t mind. Still my heart is hammering in my chest. I continue, treating it like a friendly little joke. "But seriously, after what we just went through? I think that all of us should be on a first name basis, don''t you?" If I had a hat, I''d tip it. Since I don''t, I hit her with my smooth, soon to be patented, eye contact over the top of my shades, glance. I drop in just a smidge of extra bass into my voice for added effect. "Call me, Brian." Charm vs Captain Isabelle Ravena Reigns: Success! "I will do so." She smirks, "Then you may call me Isabella, if you''d like." "Actually would you mind if I called you Raven? With your dark hair and affection for flying..." I motion upward to her docked airship at the sky-pier. "Ohh, Jess!" Her accent seems to slip a bit more and she lets out sparkly eyed laugh that makes my heartbeat skip. "I like that very much." Cinnamon sighs and I swear I hear the eye roll in it. Damn! What is with her? I''m just being friendly and... okay, yeah sure, perhaps a bit to flirtatious. I can''t really help it. I don''t want Cinni to feel I''m being disrespectful to her but it is something about Captain Raven that just drips sexy! Cinnamon is so sweet and kind. She is the one who pushed me to give Kryst a chance despite our very rocky initial meeting. I just don''t get why she has a problem with Captain Reigns. Is she jealous? It''s a possibility I guess, but something about that doesn''t hold water for me. When Kryst was bathing both Cinnamon and I were embarrassed by the fairy''s lack of modesty. But Cinni wasn''t upset in a ''don''t look at another woman in my presence'' way either. And I really don''t think I''m so slick that she, or Kryst for that matter, didn''t catch my ogling. I haven''t had a chance to pull Cinni and Kryst aside and suggest to them how having a favor, or better yet, a friend in the Airship captain could prove really, really, useful. Kryst and Isabella seem to be getting along well already, and I would be so bold to say that I am too. I just have to see if I can find some way for Cinnamon and Isabella to sort out whatever the tensions bubbling between them.If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. "Oh, right!'' I nod toward Cinnamon, "Well, you know Kryst but I don''t think you two were ever formally introduced. Isabella, I mean, Captain Raven, this is Cinnamon." " Ahh. The rabbit. That was a rather interesting and resourceful trick." For the first time Captain Raven gives Cinnamon a, somewhat close to approving, nod. Cinnamon returns the gesture, though she seems to have retreated a bit into that shy shell of hers again. I doubt being complimented on her curse sits well with her. "Which reminds me." Raven says addressing me again, "Thank you for the use of your blade. With its magic it made swinging Mr. Plogz and I to the safety much easier." "Sure. No problem. I''d seen you swinging about up on the pier earlier but with us falling so fast--." "Is that right, Brian? You have been watching me, eh?" Captain Raven interrupts. "Yes, well... no, not like that." I stumble over my words, a bit. Damn! I just got ''swagger,'' I can''t go losing it already! "I had just noticed that you were very athletic and I figured that you could handle Plogz while I got Cinni to safety." I realize what I say too late and a side-glance to Cinnamon confirms. By the movement of her ears I know I''ve hurt her feelings. "It was a group effort really." I try to backpedal, "If it wasn''t for Cinnamon''s umhhh... and then Kryst did her thing too. All of us working together." "Yes. You all acted..." The swashbuckler airship captain snaps her fingers loudly, "Like that! The three of you have adventured together for a time to have such synergy, ey?" "Not as long as you''d think. But, yeah." I''m still off balance from that stupid slip of the tongue, "We are just that tuned into each other. You know? It''s how we roll." General Skill: Deception vs Captain Raven: Fail! The Captains eyebrows squeeze together and she gives me a odd look. I''m fairly sure that she hasn''t bought into my latest line of B.S. so I try and change the conversation quickly. "So? My sword." I nod toward her shapely hip and she follows my gaze. "Ah, right. I suppose you would be wanting it returned, ey?" She tugs the sword from one of her talisman adorned hip belts and takes a long covetous look, admiring the light of the sun as it dances along the length of the silvery steel. "Is a fine weapon. You know, Brian, should you wish to part with it I could make the generous offer." The look she gives me almost has me nodding in complete agreement. However, hanging out for the last few days with Cinni and Kryst; a pair of drop dead gorgeous ladies, has given me just enough of a resistance to avoid falling for her manipulative feminine wiles. "Thanks, but I think that I''ll hold onto it for now." I say. "Yes, well, let me know if there is anything that can be done to change your mind ey?" She spins the sword deftly then holds it out by the blade, hilt first toward me. I reach out and Captain Raven sucks her teeth lightly as she looks to my ruined hands. "Though it does not look like you should be engaging in swordplay anytime soon anyway." She reaches over, takes my wrist and then leans forward to inspect my hands. "Did not take you for a once swab." She nods appreciatively, "What have you crewed, ey? Sky or sea?" "Huh? What do you mean? Crew? On a ship?" I shake my head. "I''m afraid not." "No? But this looks very much like Sailors Balm. Then again, it does smell more... fragrant than I''d would expect." Captain Raven says. "Yeah, I''m not really sure what it is. You would have to ask Cinni. She''s the wonder woman who made it." I smile and thumb toward Cinnamon. Perhaps this is something I can get them talking about! I give myself a congratulatory mental pat on the back for my quick thinking and start devising a way to get them to a bit of common ground. "So, Sailor''s Balm?" I give a bit of an overacted inquiry, "What''s that?" "It''s mixture of ground herbs, seaweed, sometimes even tar or animal fat." Captain Raven is quick to answer, "Pretty much anything crews get their hands on in a pinch. Good for rope burns, cuts, abrasions that sort of thing." "Oh, I see. A sort of all purpose cure all." I nod toward Raven and Cinnamon working the plan to get them to interact. Captain Raven nods, "Recipes get passed down through generations or between ship crews. Each has their own variant on its making." Cinnamons demeanor changes, but not in the way I had hoped. Instead she nails a nose in the air humrph that would make a stuck-up anime character jealous. "My salves do more than just seal up the wounds with scars and calluses like, ahem, ''Pirates Balm'' does." Captain Raven narrows her eyes at Cinnamon, who to my surprise edges out of her shy shell and does the same right back. I refrain from pinching the bridge of my nose in frustration. "Is you making some kind of accusation, ey?" Raven says, raising to the bait. "Seems you ladies have something in common then." I interrupt before Cinnamon can escalate, "Maybe you two could share recipes or something?" I offer with a smile in an attempt to alleviate the growing tension. The glare they both shoot toward me forms a knot in my throat. "Or not." A pause draws out, punctuated by a quick gust of wind. Smiling, Captain Raven is the first to finally break the uncomfortable silence. "Here, let me offer you a something, Brian." She reaches to a pouch and pulls out a bottle filled with a shimmering blue liquid. "This will heal any lingering injuries you may still have." The ache in my side throbs. "That is alright. I''m sure Cinni''s salve here will be more than enough." I lie. "I would be insulted should you not take it. You let me borrow your blade did you not, ey?" "I suppose so." I look over at Cinnamon and I can see she is not impressed. I don''t like the games these two are playing and I definitely dislike being the emotional basketball they are dribbling up and down the court. And the truth is I really want that potion. Ever since I arrived in this world I''ve been getting my butt whooped like an ''80''s high-school movie nerd with a ''kick-me'' sign taped to their back. My body is feeling the strain and there is no telling what will happen next. "Alright, if you insist. Thank you, Raven." I say. Yeah, Cinni might be a little pissed at me but if there is a chance to get myself healed up fully I have to take it. Captain Raven smiles, regards my hands for a moment and then shakes her head a little. "I would usually pour some of the potion directly onto the wounds, to aid with the healing but..." She frowns in puzzlement, "I''m not sure what sort of reaction it might have with... this." She makes a trivializing motion toward the balm that has now been all but absorbed into my skin. "It is an all natural remedy." Cinnamon grumps, "It should be fine to be used alongside other healing methods. Magical or otherwise." "Still, I would rather not take the risk." Raven shrugs, "But if you do not care if Brian''s hands explode from a potential volatile mixing..." Explode?! I cough. It''s not that I don''t trust Cinnamons judgment, but the idea of having my fingers shrapnel off and walking around for the rest of my life with stumps at the ends of my arms makes me feel like I suddenly have to pee. Cinnamon bites her lip. There is a little look of doubt in her eyes at being questioned. Put on the spot and forced to choose between either validating her skills as a herbalist or displaying a lack of caring toward what could happen to me. "Well, I guess... I suppose it isn''t worth the risk. Just in case." Cinnamon concedes quietly. Her ears droop and my heart aches for her. As Captain Raven removes the small stopper from the potion bottle there is a hint of a smirk on her lips at her small victory. I feel a flare of annoyance. "Tilt your head." Captain Raven instructs. Before I can object she lifts the potion to my mouth. It has a odd taste, an unpleasantly sharp almost medicinal flavor that coats my tongue and throat like a layer of grease. Whatever it is, however, it does the trick. A warmth spreads, starting at my neck and then stomach it quickly works its way through my muscles. I get a weird flash of heat feeling and once more watch amazed as flesh heals before my eyes. Minor aches and pains I didn''t notice before simply wash away. I feel better than I have in days. Almost superhuman. The same as I had felt when I first arrived in this strange world, thrust into this amazing new body. Brian Status: HP: 12/ 12 Stun: 25 / 22 Mana: 3 / 10 More so even, since I still seem to have a bit of that odd energetic feeling from my Butter Bunny''s balm. Ohh! Humm, that is kind of a catchy name. I''ll have to suggest it to her. A stray thought goes through my mind. I wonder, was I suffering penalties from my injuries before? As good as I now feel I most likely had been. Deduction: Success! I smile and rub my palms together, working the last of the balm into the now completely undamaged skin on my hands and forearms. It''s strange how quickly I have gotten used to my almost indigo colored skin tone. I wonder if I should start using lotion now? I know that''s usually what black people do back in the really, real world. Crap! Is that racist?! I mean, I''m kind of black... but, not really. And I''m an elf so does that even count? Then again, I''ve never seen anyone one with this sort of skin color before, except maybe in comic books. Wolvie did used to call Nightcrawler an elf all the time too... Is Nightcrawler Caucasian? Well he''s German that''s about as white as you get. Okay, that was definitely racist. Or is it? I mean I''m a white guy, or I was befo-- "So, how is that, ey?" Raven asks, her brow raised. Its then that I realize that I''ve been standing here like an idiot pondering the nuances of race as it relates to superheroes, and a transmogrified human-Caucasian-Drow. "I feel fantastic." I nod and smile still rubbing my hands. "That is some good stuff." From the corner of my eye I see Cinnamon pout a bit from my pleased reaction. "It definitely won''t be winning any taste competitions though, that''s for sure." I give a slight frown and make a show of scraping at my tongue with my teeth. "I would imagine most potion makers figure that they does not need to ''taste'' good. It needs simply to do the job. Besides, I do not think it works like that. Adding extraneous ingredients might ruin the potion or cause disastrous side effects." Raven says. "Oh, I don''t know about that. I doubt that a bit of carrot juice for flavor would hurt. Cinna-buns can brew up one delicious potion. After all, there¡¯s no reason that medicine should taste bad if it doesn¡¯t have to, right?" I smile and shoot a wink to Cinnamon. She catches it and gives me a closed-eyed coo nod of approval. "Again, thanks for the pick me up, Raven." With my body healed and both Cinnamon and Raven appeased and even Kryst settled down from her flare up I let out a mental sigh of relief. We''re not sailing smooth yet but I feel that we have at least pulled up the anchor and are starting to make a bit of headway. "So my sword?" I ask. Captain Raven looks a bit disappointed when I mention the blade now tucked back at her hip, but she pulls it free and once more makes to hand it over. My fingers have barely touched the hilt when an angry shout sounds from my right. "Hey! Just what do you think you''re doing!?" Chapter 34: Brothers in Arms "Blood ''n blades! You people are being detained! You do understand what that means don''t you?!" Marshal Tomas has snatched my sword from Raven and now points with his small scriber pad at each of us. His face flushed. "You can''t be walking around with weapons while in guard custody!" Held by the blade, just below the tines, Marshal Tomas shakes my sword in the air to accentuate the point. "Am I to understand that prisoners they now are?" Plogz struts over, "Because if that be the case then you would need--" "Don''t play with me on this, Plogz!" Tomas whirls on the Goblin. Seeing the seriousness in the guards face Plogz backs off from whatever argumentative point he was going to bring up. Ducking his head he shrugs, hands held up in a surrendering motion. Still the smirk on Plogz face is plain as day and I can tell the goblin gets a good deal of pleasure out of trolling the Marshal. "You men. Get your damned fingers out of your noses!" Marshal Tomas turns toward the group of loitering guards at the steps. The camaraderie chatter and chuckles between the guardsmen dies immediately and they start to get into more organized formation. "Alec?! Sully? Get over here!" Tomas strides off toward the edge of the platform, placing a little distance between each group. Two guards stiffen then break off from the rest to hustle over. They both come to stand at a variant of military attention in front of their commanding officer. We had briefly met the two men earlier when we had handed over our packs and weapons. I strain my ears to listen in as he begins to berate the men carrying our belongings. Perception: Success! " --me how in the hells are you keeping a watch on them? You''re standing closer to the damned city gates than to your charges!" "We didn''t see any harm, Marshal. They can''t go anywhere from here." One of the guards says. He has my backpack thrown over a shoulder. I recall his name is Alec. "Yeah, I mean, except for the Gleam it''s only the steps and the lifts for the others." Sully, the other guard, looks in both directions to indicate the platform exits. "And... we can see them, sir." "Oh? Is that correct, Eagle-eye? And did you ''see'' the Captain there nearly pass a man we have been told to bring in for questioning, a sword?" The Marshal makes a motion toward us with the hilt of my blade. "And by the look of it, an enchanted one at that." The two guards give sheepish side glances to each other. "I''ve a good mind to bring you both up on charges, you know that? I have personally witnessed a dozen men cut down faster than a dartbeak''s wing beat by a skilled sellsword." Marshal Tomas reaches over to Alec. He pulls him forward roughly and sheathes my blade in the empty scabbard protruding from the top of my pack. "Perhaps if the both of you spent less time flapping your lips the wind wouldn''t get in and cool your brains." The look the Marshal gives them makes the two guards again lower their eyes and shuffle in place. "Now get those men in order and sort yourselves out. You''re Corporals for spits sake." Tomas jabs his finger in the direction of the steps. "Sir." They both snap a bit straighter and dash back to their group. Marshal Tomas watches them for a moment then turns and starts to walk back to us, still looking irate. From the corner of my eye I catch movement and see that one of the lifters is sliding across a track toward our platform. The Marshal adjusts his stride in the direction of the lift and makes a motion with his head to Plogz "Looks like the lift assessment''s completed and functionicity''s been restored." The goblin states. He ushers us to move to the lift platform and we catch up to the Marshall to stand and wait. "I do hope that the crews manage to salvage enough from the combobulation below to piece together what transpired with the cogs." Plogz says. "Yes. I''ll expect to get a report soon as you have one, Mr. Plogz." Marshal Tomas scratches out something on his pad. "So, you four. I have Mr. Plogz statement but what can you tell me about the accident?" He turns to each of us. The platform shudders and clamps lock down onto the lift as it slides into place. "It was no accident or wear and tear failure." I say before any of the others can pipe in, "Something struck the lifters gears." The Marshal''s brow crinkles. "Are you sure about that?" "Positive." I say thinking back to the moments before the horrible, elevator ride to hell, freefall. Intelligence: Critical Success! Special Ability: Perfect Recall -Available for purchase. I close my eyes and time rewinds in my minds eye, the scenario replaying itself out. I recall the spine tingling buzz of my ''Drowsense" warning me of danger. How on pure instinct I''d thrown my body forward into the group. Muscles acting faster than I would''ve thought possible. In my already slowed recollection, time seems to almost stop. Moving at a lethargic snail''s crawl. No doubt my ''bullet-time'' like lightning reflexes kicking in. There is the a glint of an object in my recalled peripheral vision. Like I''m searching for a screen shot in a youtube vid I edge memory forward incrementally and see the weapon with crystal clarity. It is thicker near the head with an inwardly curved blade, tapering toward a carved bone hilt. Its shape reminds me of a slightly straightened boomerang attached to a knife handle. I''ve seen the design before in my many Weapons and Equipment gaming guides. A Gurka knife or Kukri. The blade is black, with a wicked silver edge but as I forward the memory, it flares with an internal light. Growing brightener until it''s blade is pure white surrounded by a purple glow that reminds me of the visual special effects attached to a certain fan favorite weapon in a galaxy far, far away. It spins end over end and hits the gears. Slicing through one of the joints as if it was made of warm butter and not metal. The handle bounces into a cog and the blade spins, causing more destruction as gears and springs are sliced and diced. Then in a flash of that same purple white energy the weapon disappears. The damage is done though. Pieces and parts tumble and grind in the machinery. Gears spin uselessly, teeth sheered away, some catch, straining with the pressure and then, simply explode. "...the gears couldn''t take the strain and when they went the lift started falling." I pull back from the memory, finishing with my recollection. Tomas is furiously scribbling notes and he and each of the other give me an odd look. "You remember seeing all of this?" The Marshal asks. "Yeah, well." I shrug, "You know what they say. Whenever you are in a tense or dangerous situation your senses become more heightened." At least, I''m pretty sure that''s what they said in one of those braingame Youtube vids on testing your mental acuity. Or was it something else? Did I maybe stumble onto a key piece of information? Or make some sort of critical roll? Deduction: Success! "Yet you didn''t see who made this supposed attack?" The Marshal presses. "I had seen a figure on one of the crane pallets. Just a shadow of someone, but then that blade flew out at us..." I turn my concentration to the lifters large gears, studying them. Magitech: Success! "It struck right here at the spindle joint." I point out one of the cogs, "That caused the chain reaction and destroyed the brakes too." "That''d surely do it. The boy knows his mechtanicals." Plogz nods with approval toward me and I notice the elevator operator goblins do the same. "And why you didn''t mention any of this before?" Tomas points at me with his pad, an accusatory tone to his voice. "Oh, my apologies but us damn near plummeting to our deaths and then subsequent ''arrest'' by the guard has been absorbing just a smidge of my attention." I try and keep the annoyance out of my reply but don''t think I do a very good job of it. Standing to my left on a safety rail, Kryst lets out a mirthful chuckle. No doubt pleased with my cheeky delivery. I shake my head and follow up with a sigh. "I just needed a moment to collect my thoughts." Tomas lets out a snort but the statement seems to appease him enough. I go over the rest of the incident, omitting the details of Cinnamon''s transformation and simply state that after Captain Reigns threw the grappel both her and Plogz held on and made their escape from the death machine. Following suit I had grabbed on with Cinnamon and managed to swing to safety. As much as I wanted to brag on my wall running awesomness I refrain. If it came to it I''d rather keep my special abilities on the downlow. Even though I feel it''s unneeded I do state it for the record that Kryst, obviously, just flew. Marshal Tomas gives me a bit of a stink eye at that one, and Kryst gives a haughty guffaw. He is just about to question the others when one of the goblin operators chitters for our attention. While the dimunative humanoid turns away to do a final once over the second goblin raises the safety gate to indicate the lift is ready to board. Kryst buzzes to hover over the platform and Captain Raven strides forward without a care. The rest of us however, guards included, have a slight delay in our step as we pile on. Within moments the lifter is moving along the track toward another platform and the Marshal has begun taking statements from the others. "Captain Reigns, in your words, could you please tell me what transpired on the lifter." The Marshal wastes no time restarting with his questioning as we chug along at a slow but steady pace. After I squash the butterflies in my stomach. I step to the rail and force myself to take a nausea inducing peek over the edge. What was that saying? Get back on the horse? I''m not sure if that''s how it worked here but I certainly didn''t want to check my character sheet later and learn that I had developed some kind of height related physiological disorder. Far below at the base of the cliff a plume of dust drifts lazily about the crash site. A swarm of ant like specks scuttle about. Some guiding a mass of others from getting to close to the destruction. Most likely workers dealing with the crash and of course, just as it would be in my world, a crowd of rubberneckers who were simply there to get eye full of the accident. At my side guards peer over the edge also. One of them lets out a sharp whistle and I glance over to Sully. He pulls his attention back and turns to Alec next to him. "What a right mess. I do hope they get that cleaned up fast." Alec says as he looks down also. "You are just fooling yourself if you think the Marsh won''t have us pulling another shift tonight down there. ''Specially after that sword untidiness." Sully makes a motion with his head toward my sword and pack on Alec''s back. In doing so Sully and I inadvertently lock eyes. A ripple of guilt goes through me as I face the guard. "Hey?" I clear my throat and Alec turns toward me as well. "Sorry about that earlier. I mean, I didn''t mean to get you guys in trouble with your boss." The two Corporals glance to each other and then shake their heads. "Nah. Weren''t your fault." Alec says with a smile. "If it wasn''t that it would have just been something else. Besides, Alec here was supposed to be keeping an eye on you." "Oy! Way to throw me under the wagon, Sul." "It''s true ain''t it? You''re Senior Corporal, correct? Therefore responsibility clearly rest on..." Sully makes a motion like he is hefting an invisible heavy weight to toss onto the other guards shoulders. "So that means that the rest of you can just idle about? First of all I became Senior Corporal by taking some initiative, which all of you could take some pointers on. And second, that''s were delegation comes in, mate." Alec reaches over to bop Sully on the chest. "I heard no such orders." Sully replies with fake innocence. "Either way it rolls downhill, Sully, m''boy. So it''s in everyone''s best interest to keep on their toe-tips and not give the Marsh any excuse to pile on the extra work." "Yeah, yeah." Sully grins in defeat and Alec in victory. But by the attitude in their back and forth banter they certainly didn''t seem to be worried about being raked over the coals. "So, you guys aren''t in trouble then?" I look between them. The two corporals merely shrug.Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation. "We may get a wrist slap but most likely the Marsh will just put us on another shift." Alec says "But what else is new?" Sully scoffs. "All this activity of late? Sure it may be filling my coin pouch but it''s murdering my social life." There was something about these two that amused me. They reminded me of... well... me! Old me anyway. Not in the way they looked. Both were fit in that casual way that would have made me burn with jealousy over their superior genetics. They were Caucasian, but so were most of the people I had encountered so far. They were of average height. Though Alec stood an inch or so taller than Sully and had a touch more base to his voice. His hair in contrast to Sully''s wavy blonde was a deep, dark brown and shorn a bit closer on the sides. No, it was something else. Even if they hadn''t been in the guard together I could tell these two were longtime friends. It was the way that they joked with each other, the casual body language. They had a familiarity that floated in the air between them. Just like me and the buddies that I had lost contact with as we grew apart. I got a taste of that friendship with Kryst and Cinnamon, and it had certainly started to fill a void. But with the girls it was different too. I was attracted to them. Very attracted to them. And that, no matter how hard I tried to deny it, altered my interaction with my companions in the most minute of ways. I felt like I always had to be ''on'' around the ladies. This was... relaxing? Just talking with a couple of guys who were around my own age. Early twenties human age that is. I had no idea how old I was in Elf. According to my character sheet Drow could live for thousands of years. That is almost too hard to fathom and I''m sure may cause me some kind of existential crisis later when I sit and really ponder it. I glance over to my group as Marshal Tomas continues to take their statements. Only too soon we will be walking along the steps and platforms again. Making our way toward whatever we had somehow become pulled into. Perhaps I could find out a little more about what was going on here in the city from these guys. "I had noticed this place is pretty bustling." I indicate the surrounding docks above and below, " I''ve never been to Redtree so I just figured it was the norm. But Mr. Plogz said that the ships have been coming more frequent and something about general production being on the rise?" I ask. Conversation vs Alec: Success! Conversation vs Sully: Success! "That be the truth of the matter, my friend. We are having a hard time keeping up with demand." Sully nods energetically. "It wouldn''t be so bad if it was just the locals but there has been a big influx of new workers for the dock construction and loading and unloading. Then the ship crews. Most of them have been at sea or sky for a bit so they are looking for some action when they arrive. We have been all hands on deck. No pun intended." Alec adds. "Sounds pretty overwhelming." I say, "They have you guys keeping an eye on things then, maintaining order and so forth." "That and dealing with the uptick in public disturbances. So far it''s has been mostly breaking up arguments over hawkers selling wares too close to another vendor. Undercutting competition or some other slight. Bar fights and drunken brawls. Public urination, pick pockets. That sort of thing is on the rise." Alec says. "There is an influx of traders breezing through too." Sully adds. "Which means more money is coming in but when that happens you have to be on the lookout for those less than honest entrepreneurial types looking for an easy score." "Makes sense. Mo money, mo problems." I say. "Damn." Alec and Sully''s eyes go wide and they nod to each other. Sully reaches over and slaps me on the arm. "Poignant!" I grin then continue, "So you guys just work the docks then?" "Yeah. To tell the truth I wouldn''t mind a transfer to gate duty or street patrol for a bit. This quarter is a nightmare." "Cragcliff isn''t that bad." Alec chastises. "Maybe for you. At least you speak a bit of Goblin. For me trying to direct them or get anything sorted is like herding flash cats." Sully rolls his eyes in frustration. "So what has caused this big increase in interest here?" I ask. "The Council has established new shipping companies, opened up new trade routes." Alec gets a concerned look on his face, "I mean it''s great we are getting those relationships forged but I''m just worried that things are growing too fast." "I''d think that sort of growth would be a good for the community." "It is. We have always shipped out wood products, sap and even fairies. But the city has opened up contracts with places like the Talsforth Institute of Magiks, and the Mage guilds in Galdonia and Cloudkeep. Now with the leaf and wood burns, even Redtree ash has started to become a good commodity." "Yeah, I saw containers of the stuff getting packed up. Who would be interested in ash? I can''t imagine it''s that useful, is it?" "Oh you would be surprised. It makes an excellent fertilizer, or so I''ve heard from some of the farmers. It''s one of the reasons we have such healthy produce here. But now some of the city enchanters have come up with ways to make Scribers out of the stuff too. I don''t know the how''s, but has something to do with compacting it down." Alec shrugs. "Really?" Somehow the implications of that pricks at my innate knowledge and I file away the tidbit of information. Adding it to the multitude of possible ways for magictek construction and design. "It''s used for making soap too." Sully says, "It was always one of our more sought after exports but further demand has swiftly taken wing." "Soap?" "Oh, yeah." Sully''s hand dives to one of the pouches on his belt and he pulls free a couple of wax paper wrapped blocks. He unwraps the first to show off a translucent, near luminescent, purple glycerin cube that instantly has me craving grape jello. He offers it to me and I take a sniff. It has a pleasant lavender scent. Much nicer than the somewhat harsh soap that Cinnamon had let us use this morning. "Good stuff." Sully smiles, "Smells great. And gives you smoother more hydrated, just healthier looking skin. You know, removing blemishes like red spots and--" "I swear you sound worse than those girls behind the counters selling it." Alec rolls his eyes. "I can''t believe you are still blowing your pay on that high priced stuff. I hope that, what''s her name, baker girl appreciates it." "It''s Arabell, and oh does she ever." Sully grins mischievously, "Beside with the extra coin from my shifts, It''s not that bad of an expense. There are a lot worse thing I could be wasting my coin on. See? That is the trick, Alec. You need to learn to shop for presents that both you and the lady can get enjoyment from." "Now the clues all fall into place. I had stopped by Blissful Biscuits this morning for a sweet roll to break-fast before shift. And couldn''t help but notice that Arabell''s breasts were positively aglow. I mean clean as a whistle. I can only assume that was your handiwork?" "What can I say?" Sully gives us a straight toothed grin that was all charm. "I like to be thorough." Alec chuckles and I find myself doing the same. Caught up in the friendly ribbing over life and ladies. Sully slides a little closer and indicates that Alec and I should to lean in. "You travel with a few slices of candy apple pie yourself." He whispers. "How did you manage that?" I glance back to my companions then back to the pair of guards. Both Alec and Sully are waiting expectantly. This was something totally new. All of a sudden these guys are looking at me like I''m Don Juan Casanova. Ready to hang on my next words as if I have some sort of magical pick-up line or have cracked the mystifying master code to attracting the fairer sex. "To tell the truth. We met on the road. Helped each other out in a fight with some monsters." I reach into my pouch and pull out one of the Drayger claws that I haven''t yet started carving. "Sweet spirits. If working alongside ladies like those are what being an adventurer is like? Alec, I think we may have to forsake this life of luxury." Sully chuckles. "If you want to go out hunting Drayger, Sul. Be my guest." Alec plucks the claw from my hand and holds it up in front of Sullys face. The other guards eyes blink as looks over the curved onyx claw. "Personally I favor my chances a hells of a lot more with belligerent, stumble drunk deckhands than I do raising swords against one of those beasts, thank you much." "Perhaps we could hunt Drayger hatchlings?" Sully offers studying the claw and we all let out a chuckle. "Those spectacles you are wearing." Alec passes me back the claw then points at the shades on my face. "I''ve never seen anything similar. Where did you get them?" "Made them myself." I tap the frame with a finger. "From a couple of those same claws in fact. Had to smooth down some crystals for the lenses, obviously." "Might I take a look? Try them on?" Alec asks. "Sure." I pull the shades from my face without thinking and am almost bought to my knees from the painfully intense light from the afternoon sun. "Hells below, are you alright?" I hear Sully ask. Holding my hand up to shield my watering eyes, I turn my back to the sun. "Yeah, just wasn''t paying attention." I blink as the world slowly comes back into focus and hand Alec my shades. "You sure? If you need them that badly I don''t want to..." He pauses. "No, its fine." "Alright. I just want to see for a but a mom--Whoa!" A wide grin breaks out on the Senior Corporals face when he slips on my shades and his head is suddenly darting about to take in the sky and our surroundings. "This is great. I mean its dark but I can still see! Hey, Sul. You have to try these..." For the next minute Alec and Sully are all smiles and amusement. Trading my shades between them and causing a fair bit of panic to bubble up in the pit of my stomach as I imagine my coveted eye protection snapping in half, or worse, falling off the side of the lifter. Their fascination continues until couple of the other guards stride over to see what all the fuss is about. Which in turn, draws the Marshals attention away from Captain Raven who looks to be finishing up with her statement. His head swivels in our direction and Sully hastily passes my eye wear back to me, unwilling to draw any more ire from his commanding officer. "Thanks for letting us try your... shades, Brian?" Alec questions as I slip them back on, rubbing away the sting of in my overly sensitive eyes. I''m not positive if he is asking if he has gotten my name or the name I gave them for my ''new invention'' correct. Either way I give him a thumbs up and a nod. "Yup. No problem. Glad you liked." "Definitely. If you make any more of them I''d love to get a pair." Sully says and Alec''s head bobs up and down in agreement. "I''m surprised you don''t have them here." Shades didn''t seem like a overly complex invention and if they already had eyeglasses making sunglasses seemed like a logical step. "Eye correcting spectacles are fairly expensive. But those? You could make some good coin selling them, I''d wager. And I bet would be a damn sight safer than going out and fighting monsters and sleeping in the bushes." Sully says. "Although..." He makes a sucking whistle sound with his teeth, then glances over to Cinnamon, Kryst and Captain Reigns, "The lack of other... attractive fringe benefits that seem to be associated with your current occupation might be sorely lacking." "So what is the deal with you all, anyway?'' Alec picks up the line of conversation, "I''ve seen Captain Reigns in port before. But seeing as you don''t have the right equipment to be on her crew. Unless... Are you a passenger?" "Umm, No. We just met on the lifter." I say, pointing over the edge with a thumb. "I don''t really know her." I pause for dramatic effect, then add with a smirk." But, I''d like to." That gets a laugh from them. "I''d put on a pair of gauntlets if you are thinking of trying to catch that particular shooting star." Alec cautions, "I''ve heard she has left a line of broken hearts and would be suitors from Esterford to Ka''lkesh. The entire lot, love sick and pining for her affections." The Senior Corporal takes a longing look at the Airship Captain then gives a grin and shrug. "Not that I blame ''em." "Thanks. I''ll take it under advisement." I feel that rush again from their bolstering. The way they were looking at me like a hero. If they only knew about my previous poor show of a love life. I had spent my fair share of living vicariously through others, particularly some of my less awkward, social butterfly like acquaintances. So I knew how they felt. I just hope that their admiration didn''t turn to antipathy and jealousy. After all, these guys were pretty cool. "What was that thing that you said, Alec? About, equipment?" I ask. Alec and Sully chuckle at the private joke. "As far as I''ve been told, or seen for that matter, Captain Reigns runs an all female crew." Alec explains, "I wouldn''t call them regulars here in Redtree, but it''s not uncommon for them to swing through and resupply." "And when they do they can be a right handful, I''ll have you know." Sully adds. "He ain''t lying." Alec makes a motion with his head to the other guard then turns to address his friend face to face. "In fact, if we''re not dealing with that mess down below later, I can guarantee Marsh will have us cleaning up the ruckus some of those ladies will be causing in the bars tonight." "Oyyy." Sully groans, "I didn''t even think of that." "That''s why you''re not Senior Corporal." Alec jibes. I chuckle. Flipping the block of soap I''m still holding over in my hands I glance toward Cinnamon who is now giving her statement to the Marshal. "Hey, Sully?" I lower my voice to a whisper, keenly aware of the sensitivity of Lepuri ears, "If you won''t be visiting your girl tonight. Would you be willing to sell me a couple of these soaps of yours?" "Feeling a bit dirty, mate?" Sully smirks and glances to Cinnamon. Lowering his voice as well he gives me a nudge in my side with an elbow. "Or are you looking to get a bit dirty?" "I''d like to get Cinnamon a gift." I smile, "Something we could both enjoy." Persuasion vs Sully: Success! "You see, Alec?" The guards laugh and Sully slaps my shoulder. "He gets it." "Far be it from me to interfere with cleanliness. So sure, one gold and you can have the both of them." Insight vs Sully: Success! It seems a bit pricey and he is probably making a couple silver on the deal but I don''t bother haggling over it. After all, he is doing me a favor so I shake his hand and pass him one of the nickel sized gold pieces and a couple silver from my pouch. I wave off his objection to the extra. "So, you and the Lepuri lady...?" Alec lets the question hang. "Cinnamon and I... ehh, it''s complicated." I know the answer is dismissive, but I''m unwilling to share much more. And as enjoyable as conversation about women was I more interested in getting a bit more information from the two of them. I''m closing up my coin pouch after paying for the soap and am reminded of the Captain tossing away some of her money. "Tell me something, guys. I saw Raven, eer Captain Reigns drop a bunch of coins over the edge back there. You have any idea what that was about?" Conversation vs Alec: Success! Conversation vs Sully: Fail! "Sounds like an offering to Boutica." Sully says somewhat dismissively as he pockets the gold coin. In the silence that follows both him and Alec look at me, clearly picking up on my bewilderment. "You haven''t done much sailing or spent time around too many trade towns have you?" Alec grins. "I''m afraid not." I say and the two guards nod. "Most port towns have a shrine to Boutica located somewhere on their docks. Ours is up there." Alec points up toward one of the piers that just out far above at the top of the cliff. "Though it''s not really needed, any dock, pier or even ship deck will do in a pinch. Boutica is a Goddess of the wind and sea..." Alec raises an eyebrow, "and Pirates." "Pirates?" I ask incredulously, "Why would towns have a shrine to a pirate god on their docks?" "It''s not necessarily for worship but many a merchant, trader or siimply traveler will make an offering before when setting sail on a lucrative trade route or departing on long journey. A tithe so that she might show favor, grant fair weather, and safe travel through her domain. That more importantly, that her ire isn''t raised and one isn''t set on by pirates on the voyage." I ponder that for a moment. Captain Raven didn''t really carry herself like any of the other merchants I had observed while we''d made our way through the city or the ones making deals at the dock trade hall. She had a commanding presence. All flash and flair and... sexy. There''s more to Captain Raven than just a simple merchant, of that much I''m positive. I wonder if Alec and Sully can shed anymore light about-- "What are you ladies over here babbling about?" Kryst startles all three of us as she buzzes over and lands lightly on my shoulder. She leans against the side of my head with her typical air of insolence. "Alec, Sully. This is the bane of my existence, Kryst." I cut my eyes in the fairy''s direction as I make the introduction. "Charmed." Alec nods. "A pleasure." Sully smiles. "Yeah, I''m sure it must be." Kryst voice is all sass. She flicks my ear making me wince. "Too Tall, you might want to get back over there. Cinnamon is just going over the last of her statement. I think that Tomas guy may have a couple more questions for you." "Alright." I nod, "Good chatting with you guys." I hold out my fist for a dap to both Alec and Sully. They pause for a few moments unsure what to do. Alec extends his hand uncomfortably as if to handshake my fist. I chuckle feeling like the cool guy amongst nerds before I give them a quick instruction on performing a fist bump. The grins they give me are pure joy at learning the bro gesture. I start to make my way over to Cinnamon and the others but do catch a whisper of ''Wonder if it''s a Drow thing?'' between the two guards as I do. I turn my head slightly, still smiling and whisper to Kryst. "What Cinni say about her curse?" "Nothing." Kryst plops down on my shoulder, her voice low in my ear. "Just said you swung her to safety. Sailor girl didn''t mention it either." The Marshal turns as I approach and I catch the final bit of Cinnamons recollection. "--given Brian some healing for his hands because they had been very injured by the rope. That''s where you found us. On that shaky platform." The Marshal nods. "And that is all that you recall." "Yes, sir." Cinnamon says a little nervously. I walk close and place a hand on her shoulder, giving it a firm squeeze of reassurance. In response she looks over and gives me her cute closed-eye smile. "Well I think that is everything. Unless you have something to add?" The Marshal glances to each of us. When no one responds he nods and scribbles the last of his notes onto his scriber pad then presses his thumb to a small rune stone at the bottom. The enchanted symbol glows briefly and after a moment the Marshal produces a cloth and wipes the pad clean once more. "Alright. Now, since that mess is somewhat dealt with. Onto the next one. Brian, you will--" The Marshal stops midsentence as the scriber still in his hand lets out a high pitched tinkling that reminds me of wind chimes. His brows bunch and he lifts the device to read the glowing words appearing magically across the surface. His eyes dart toward Cinnamon. "Miss. Cinnamon Butter? Do you know Archmaister Midnight?" "Uh huh!" Cinnamon bobs her head up and down, "He''s my Pop-pop." She says sweetly. "Your... Pop. Pop." Marshal Tomas blinks a few times. Then, he simply stares at the Lepuri in a long moment of silence. Chapter 35: Lady Civata A mosaic of reds that stretch into hues of deep magenta and dusky crimson fill the air. Leaves of all sizes dance. Each with their own style. The larger leaves, older and more mature, twirl like ballerinas or slide side to side in mesmerizingly beautiful waltzes. Meanwhile the youngsters, small leaves, some no bigger than pennies and feather-light, are more erratic in their youthful displays. They bounce up and down on the breeze as if it were the thumping base of a dance club. Most still manage to avoid the travelers on the streets. Giving wide berths. Unquestionably exhausted after the long, dance routine journey, from the twisted boughs above they delicately alight onto the thoroughfare. Perhaps in the hope that they will be left alone as they lie down to rest. No such luck. Their crunchy cries of agony echo off the wood and stone buildings as their bodies are trampled and ground into the cobblestones by foot and hoof alike. Others, no doubt witnessing the brutality befalling their kind, flock together in clouds. Choosing instead to gather in mass. Surely for protection from the terrifying creatures who obliviously crush those who choose to carpet the streets. They must feel safe as they are gathered and piled together in larger and more massive piles. Taken away in big rolling wagons. Until that is they are unceremoniously shoved into the smoldering pits dug into the earth. Choking smoke pours from the epicenter of the lumps as they are shoveled higher and higher. Then the fires burst forth and, for a short time, the thick smoke drifting into the sky vanishes. Leaves and logs alike crumble into grey and black ash. Consumed in the hellish infernos. And yet their torment does not end there. Scooped up their ashes are mixed with solutions and crushed down. Compressed into brick sized blocks and stacked on top of one another on pallets. Carted away to warehouses where they sit with other tree relatives such as crates of sawdust and huge cuts of wood. Yet even in the face of these horrific displays of wanton genocidal annihilation there are those that are fiercely bold among the leaves. They alight on shoulders and heads, steal kisses upon cheeks and then quickly spin away as waving hands attempt to dissuade or give chase. And they are not without warriors either. Hidden in plain sight amongst the others, they strike from the camouflage of the leafy deluge. Violently going straight for the eyes or mouth. Determined to blind or choke their would be murderers. One of these fearless foliage fighters spins toward me and I jink my head to the side to avoid the attack. Kryst isn''t so lucky. "Wha- pfft -ummph!" The hand sized leaf all but smothers her. If it was soft and supple like the ones still clinging to the immense boughs of the Redtree it may have been able to engulf the Barbie doll sized fairy. In its dry state, perfect for ocular assault but not so much for smothering, it splits and cracks. "How can you beat the crap out of a person like eighty seven times your size, yet you can still get owned by a leaf?" I tease. "You know what, Too Tall?" Kryst hops about on my shoulder, one leg stuck through the crispy leaf to her knee. "Being a dingbat has never hurt anyone, but do you really wanna take that chance?" Her tiny fists punch through her attacker and she angrily tears it in half. A puff of dry dust erupts from the quickly fought battle and Kryst lets out a Tinkerbelle-like sneeze. "Bles--" I catch myself before I finish and turn my head. Kryst is glaring daggers straight into my eyes. "Don''t you even think about it." She warns, "Humph! You and your weird god invoking tendencies." Perception: Success! I roll my eyes but catch a raised eyebrow glance from Captain Raven who is close enough to hear the conversation, but far enough to not be involved. Especially with the entourage surrounding her. I''d would like to talk to her little more but the guards have been keeping her occupied as we walk. Now that we are not headed to the ''police station'' everything has gotten much more relaxed and most of the guard have migrated closer to the sexy airship captain as we walk. It has almost become a competition between the lot of them as they vie for her attention. Seldom have I been in similar situations but I have definitely seen it before. Guys falling over themselves to one up each other. Trying to be a little to humorous and acting a bit too friendly in their attempts ''to assist the sexy girl who has wandered into the comic store and shown a vague interest in something geeky.'' Captain Raven catches my look and gives me a smile. My guts tighten and male brain neurons start popping like fireworks. A sliver of me wants to go over there and get in on the action too; interpose myself with them. To win her interest and steal her away from the rest of the pack with a display of social dominance. Magical Resistance- Charm (Dark Elf) I push it down and step a little closer to Cinnamon. There''s a tension in the bunny babe''s shoulders and she''s nibbling delicately at the corner of her lip. Since we have left the docks Cinni has been a bit out of sorts. I wonder what it is... Insight vs Cinnamon Butter: Fail! ¡­but I can''t quite put my finger on what is bothering her exactly . I guess with everything that has happened in the past few hours she has every right to be nervous. After all the general hustle and bustle of the city around us has me a little on edge so I can only imagine what kind of warning lights are being set off in her shy-girl defenses systems. She doesn''t look over but one of her ears orients in my direction. A clear sign that she is taken notice of me walking beside her. I start a bit when I feel her fingers entwine with my own. Instantly the tension in Cinnamons shoulders ebbs. She turns and gives me one of her insanely cute, close-eyed coo smiles. And just like that, any thoughts of sliding over and attempting to impress Raven, disappear entirely. We''ve made our way through the city from the docks, heading in a meandering route toward the gargantuan trunk of the Redtree. The leaves have started to fall less as we draw closer. They still fill the air, but not as thickly as the constant cascade around the edges of the city as we follow on the heels of our guards now turned guides. It seems that Crod had done just as he said that he would. I can only guess that while we were sneaking along on rooftops, avoiding and beating up guards in streets, at lest we forget the hell-evator incident, the troll must have met with somebody in charge and let them know that Cinnamon was here to see her grandfather. That Cinni is related to Geomaister Midnight got more than a little bit of attention from Marshal Tomas and the guards and so we are being escorted to meet with someone at Silverstone. I recall Crod mentioning it before. Apparently, it''s some kind of government institution. One of those buildings where all the big decisions are made. Or perhaps the mayor''s office would be a more apt comparison. At least that''s the closest correlation I can come up with any rate based on the info I gathered from chatting with Alec and Sully on our walk. Before the latter guard moved closer to chat with Raven that is. The road winds on in front of us toward a dark wood palisade wall that rises high above the buildings that cluster on either side of the street. As we draw closer, however, I realize that it isn''t a man made structure as I had first believed but is in actuality, one of the huge roots of the Redtree. Thinking we will veer off to go around I glance about for an approaching turn-off but, our escort continues forward and I see, to my amazement, that the street carves straight through the root in front of us. I''ve seen pictures of roadways cut through the redwood trees in California but seeing something similar in... real life? I literally shake my head. No. The only real similarity with my world and this was that they were both tunnels carved through wood. Redwoods are big, and the tunnels in them were, what? Maybe twelve or fifteen feet long and a car width wide? This dwarfs it and then some. It''s so large two wagons pass each other with room to spare on either side for pedestrians. This passageway is more like a castle gatehouse. A comparison which grows more firm in my mind as we advance. One either side of the entrance silvery gates are pushed wide open for the foot and wagon traffic. Two stories tall and elaborately decorated with twisted metal vines. Reminiscent of art nouveau architecture, they are not only defensive but a thing of beauty. I stare in wonder while we make our way through the colossal root. There are even doorways carved into the sides; guard rooms, if the pikemen moving in and out are any indication. And above, beyond the gates at either side of the tunnel, the edge of a portcullis peaks from the ceiling. Most of it is hidden but by what I can see it is undoubtedly embellished just as ornately as the gates. But even amongst the beauty and wonder of it I see the sickness in the roots of the Redtree too. A group of workers on ladders and hanging scaffolding scrape and saw at a section of crumbling wood around a small hole in the ceiling. Perhaps a murder hole that can be used for defense. A place where spears could be thrust from, or worse, boiling oil poured down onto attackers attempting to gain entry through the tunnel. As we pass one of the workmen pulls free a volleyball sized chunk of rotten wood. He drops it to the ground and it breaks, crumbling into chalk like dust. Further sections have already been repaired. The ceilings patched with new wood and a shiny varnish to protect the damaged sections from further exposure. We pass from the shadow of the tunnel and my is breath taken away and I''m pretty sure that I have teared up a little bit in pure joy. It is still a little ways off, at the end of the roadway but ahead of us, at the base of the Redtree; nestled between the gargantuan roots and protected by another series of high, stone walled parapets, sits a fantastical castle. From this distance we all get a good view of the majestic building. Constructed of some kind of white and silvery infused marble the tall towers and spires of the castle seem to almost glow in the sunlight. Beyond the castle more structures can be seen clinging to the trunk of the Redtree with ornate bridges, some of stone and others of shaped wood stretch between castle and tree. Even from this distance my sharp elven eyes pick out windows, balconies and walkways carved into the trunk. Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation. "Whoa! Check out the buildings on the tree." I say, uncaring that I undoubtedly look like a complete tourist as my eyes bug out."That''s amazing." Kryst sighs then shuffles about and plops down on my shoulder, obviously unimpressed. "Yeah?" Alec gets a quizzical look on his face. "I''d have thought... well you know, elf cities and all, would look much better than what we have around here." "Drow actually work more with crystal than flora." I say absently. A moment later my brain catches up with my mouth. Huh? And just as shocking, I know the statement that I¡¯d made is true. That same instinctive understanding of Despthfell. The homeland of ''us'' Shadowkin. "That''s the Silverstone Citadel up ahead." Alec points. "The guard are gonna make you some kinda investigations officer if you keep up with that sort of top tier analytical problem solving." Kryst grunts, leaning back against my neck like I''m her personal lounge chair. "I guess you figured that one out on your own." Alec laughs, completely unoffended. "I¡¯ve been here before." Cinnamon pipes up glancing around, excitement tinting here voice. "It¡¯s been a long time but up there..." She indicates a row of bushes and archways of foliage. "Ohh! Those are the gardens, right?" Cinnamon ears perk up and from the way Kryst moves on my shoulder she has taken notice as well. The fairy however keeps silent. "Oh, yeah? Do they have tree sculptures and statues and hedge mazes in there?" I ask feeding off her enthusiasm. "They used too. When I was a kit I would play in there for hours." Cinnamons head bobbles, her tail doing its little double twitch, "Maybe later we can go and see, Brian? It was really pretty with all the flowers." Cinnamon takes a shifty side glance to the guards and I find myself doing the same. A sudden bit of tension tightens my muscles as she leans in close with a whisper that tickles my ear. "And they had these big patches of wild carrots that were really yummy too." She touches a finger to her lips, "The groundskeepers would get really mad if they caught you taking them, but I know some tricks to sneak some without them knowing." I try my best not to laugh at either the devious sparkle in her eye or the mental picture of a little bunny girl scampering about with arm loads of carrots while being chased by some poor irate gardner. "Sure, Cinni. That sounds great." I grin. "Maybe we can have a little picnic there later. Have ourselves a... bite?" I waggle my brows to indicate my willingness to swipe some vegetables with her. "Eh. It is nice I suppose." Alec wobbles his head from side to side, "Maybe not as vibrant as it was. The plants in there are kind of shabby looking if you ask me. Lots more vines and thorny sorts of bushes in there now." "Marshal Tomas?" Tall and alabaster skinned a woman appears like magic from the garden archway ahead. Striking red hair pools on her shoulders; a match to the form fitting, and perhaps a tad to elegant for the street, dress. What the heck is it with this place and all the hot ladies? Is it something in the water? "I thought that was you." The woman smiles and walks toward the officer with a elegant gait. "How fair you this lovely afternoon? And Mr. Plogz?" She pauses when she sees the elderly goblin. She gives a ruby lipped smile and friendly nod, to which the he responds in kind. "I am well, Lady Civata." Marshal Tomas bows slightly in acknowledgement. "I was just about to head back to my office. I simply had to get away from all those stressful errands and meetings for a moment. I''d decided to take a short break and a much deserved stroll through the gardens." "It is a good day for it." I have to agree with the Marshals assessment. A handful of lazy clouds drift past the mountains, heading out over the open sea in the distance. There is a brinkness to the air in the shadow of the Redtree, but enough diffused sunlight makes it past the canopy to combat the chill. "Isn''t it?" The Lady smiles, "Locked inside a stuffy room, dealing with endless paperwork. It really is such a chore, you know? I''m sure Mr. Plogz knows exactly what I''m talking about. Isn''t that correct Mr. Plogz? But please do not misunderstand, I am wholeheartedly appreciative of the trust placed upon me by the city. However, the drudgery of slaving away, cooped up behind closed doors?" She lets out a small sigh. "It can be a absolute drain on one''s faculties." A silence descends on the group. Even the guards trying to impress Captain Raven have gone silent. Marshal Tomas looks like he wants to speak but holds his tongue. While Mr. Plogz gives no indication he has any intention of opening his mouth, at least judging by his tightly sealed lips. "I was not expecting to see you or Mr. Plogz today. We were not scheduled for a meeting today, correct? No, I''m sure we were not. I would have made a point too..." She says with a smile but, then a look of concern passes over her face. "Wait! Is something amiss in Cragcliff?" "There have been some... developments." Marshal Tomas says. "Oh? How so?" Her brows furrow. For a moment I wonder just how much the Marshal is going to share about the sabotage of the lifter or how Cinnamon, Kryst and I had been wanted for questioning. "Guard matters, at the moment, m'' lady. However, for where your office interests are concerned everything is progressing smoothly. I have yet to get the latest build developments from Mr. Plogz, but, I have already begun to write-up my reports regarding the merchants that have arrived and their various order manifests." "That is wonderful news." She beams, "I do so look forward to reading them. Your reports are always a pleasure to peruse." She places a hand gently on the guards forearm and gives him a wink. "I have told you many times before, as much as I rely on the work you do I do believe you missed your calling. You should have been a writer, Marshal Tomas." "The idea does hold a certain level of interest. I am certainly no scribe but still I thank you once again for the compliment, Lady Civata." Tomas chuckles. "Perhaps when I retire there will be time for such pursuits." "Nonsense. I''m sure you can fit in a spare moment between your duties." The Lady pulls her hand back and smiles. "If only that were true. I fear that both you and councilman Karabos have kept us quite busy over at the docks." "Yes, I suppose I do have to take some of the blame for that. That''s the problem with progress. It''s such an absolutely dreadful amount of work. Isn''t it?" She turns her head toward us and our guard escort. More than a few nod agreement to the rhetorical question. "So then, if not for Cragcliff business, pray tell what brings the two of you to the citadel today?" Lady Civata asks, addressing the question toward Tomas and Plogz. Although her eyes pass over the entire group¡­ Perception: Success! ...lingering a bit longer on Cinnamon and Kryst. "Were you not informed? I have received orders that these visitors should be brought directly to you." "Really?" Her brows furrow and then relax. "Of course. I know what has happened. I had decided to have my lunch in the gardens today. Late as usual. As you know, Tomas, I barely get the time for that sort of thing. I will admit to being more than a little jealous of fine men and women like yourselves who get to work outside. Nothing clears the head like a breath of fresh air and a bit of sun." "I have heard you say similar on more than one occasion." Marshal Tomas says. "Forgive me. I do sometimes tend to repeat myself don''t I? And, listen to me, here I go again, prattling on. Anyhow, Morren must have taken the message and given approval. Knowing I wouldn''t be gone for too long and to expedite things for both your and my benefit, I''m sure." "Be careful, Lady Civata. That aide of yours may be looking to lay claim to your seat on the council." "I beg your pardon?" The Lady touches her chest in a startled motion. "I have never had a more loyal assistant than Morren. He keeps things organized as no one else can. Yes, he may be privy to many of the comings and goings of my office but that is his job after all." "All I mean is that, as of late, I swear I deal more with him than I do you." The Marshal chuckles. "Oh, nonsense." Lady Civata waves a dismissive hand, then pauses. "Beside, is that such a bad thing?" "Well, he is a bit stiff. But, I suppose that is unfair. After all, no one can light ones day as you do, m''lady." "Marshal Tomas." She winks, "You are always the charmer." She covers her mouth with a hand as she chuckles. I look between the both of them. My player instincts buzzing. I attempt to focus. To see if there is something else going on between these two. Insight vs Lady Civata: Fail! Insight vs Marshal Tomas: Fail! Their body language and demeanors are difficult to read. With nothing jumping out at me that indicates anything other than two colleagues simply sharing a conversation. That does compute. If she is some sort of a politician and him a police officer, I suppose they might possess skills or abilities that would allow either of them to mask their intentions. "Now as delightful as it is, and as much as I''d love to chat the day away, I suppose it is past time I returned to my duties." Lady Civata motions to the Marshal and therefore the group to follow as she turns toward a expensive looking carriage. Black lacquered and covered with ornate gold filigree and accents it sits parked at the side of the road, a short distance from the entrance to the gardens. "Why don''t you catch me up on what all this is about?" "Yes, of course. It seems that these folks are here to see Geomaister Midnight." Marshal Tomas says, falling into step smartly beside the graceful woman. "Ahh, did he send word that he needed some... assistance or something?" The Lady eyes us as we walk. "Geomaister Midnight does have a certain amount of autonomy in dealing with issues pertaining to the Redtree. However, I do hope that you all haven''t been offered any sort of employment." Lady Civata locks Cinnamon with a stare. "I would hate for you to have journeyed here under some sort of promised work agreement. If he has contacted your group for support, that should really have been run by myself and perhaps even the council first for approval."" "Umm, no..." Cinnamon voice is meek and she bites her lip a little in that cute nervous way of hers. "It''s nothing like that, Lady... Civata?" I step to Cinnamons rescue, "If I may, Miss Cinnamon Butter here is a relative of Mr. Midnight. We were actually just passing through when we heard that her grandfather was in the city. Well, can you imagine if he should later find out that that his favorite granddaughter had come by and not stopped in for a visit?" Lady Civata stops at the carriage and the driver hurries over and places a hand on the door handle. "Oh! Gracious me. I do beg your pardon." The Lady''s eyes go wide, a brilliant smile lighting her face. "So, he didn''t know that you were coming? Isn''t that wonderful. Who doesn''t love surprises?" She winks. "People who find half a worm in an apple they''re eating." Kryst counters. "Airship captains who learn their flock of promised and paid for fairies have been confiscated by guard." Captain Raven jumps on the bandwagon as well, crossing her arms over her chest. "I''m sorry, I''m not actually following..." The Lady says, ignoring Krysts jab and turning her attention to take notice of the irate swashbuckler. "Wait, you are Captain Reigns? Of the Pirya Phoenix, correct? Well, isn''t this splendid. I saw your ship at port and how silly of me to not realize that was who you were immediately. We have messaged a few times in the past. What an absolute pleasure to speak with you face to face. But? You said you had some problems with an order of fairies?" Captain Raven opens her mouth but Lady Civata continues talking in a steady stream. "We have had some issues with fairies of late. Now, to be fair, that would be more councilman Karabos''s office that you would need to contact should you wish to file some a report or complaint, but... No! Fear not, Captain. If there is some sort of problem with an unfulfilled order, we can certainly look into getting it sorted out for you. After all, we cannot have our visiting Airships leaving here unhappy now can we? On another note, you should have received a invitation to the gala tonight, correct? I made sure it was sent over by courier the moment that you had docked so it should have been waiting for you." The Captain looks a bit stunned by the sudden deluge of dialogue."Yes, I did, but--" "Fantastic. It will be marvelous to talk with you in a more comfortable setting." The Lady''s attention quickly swings back over to Cinnamon. "And, Miss Butter, I have no doubt that it will be an absolute delight for Geomaister Midnight to see you. He has been so hard at work lately. Dealing with all of this." She makes an absent gesture to the air and the leaves floating down. "We will have to do something special then. Oh! I have a brilliant idea." She gives a tiny nod and the carriage driver opens the door to a lavishly decorated interior. "As I''ve just said, we are having a bit of a get together this evening. Some of the new merchants and traders will be attending. Various people of import here in Redtree. A meet and greet you might say." "Mr. Plogz, Marshal Tomas and Captain Reigns will be there, so let me extend the invitation to the three of you as well." Lady Civata takes the offered hand of the driver and steps inside with polished dignity. She takes a breath and looks between each of us. I suppose since I had spoken for Cinnamon earlier she finally settles her icy blue-eyed gaze onto me, waiting for a response. "Well, umm, that sounds great." I lie. The ability to rub elbows at social functions has never been my strongest character trait. I''m about to make up some long winded excuse when a thought races through my head. I know that I have some sort of deception skill listed on my character sheet. Should I try and deceive her I''d most likely be forcing some sort of skill versus skill off. At least that''s what I would do If I were Game Mastering the scene. With her being a politician type, her social based checks would most likely be quite formidable. And, should that be the case, she''d probably easily catch me in the lie. I try a different tactic."Really. We thank you for the invite, but I''m afraid we didn''t travel with any clothes for a fancy party." "Think nothing of it. And clothing will be minor inconvenience at best. I will see that it is all sorted out for you." Crap. Welp, that didn''t work. But still... "Now, I really must get back to my office." Lady Civata rolls on, "I have so much to do to get ready for this evening, as I''m sure you can well imagine. How about we do this? Marshal Thomas? Would you be so kind to escort these fine folks to the Citadels guest wing? I will let them know to to arrange for rooms and amenities." "Yes, of course, Lady Civata." "Excellent! I look forward to talking with you all this evening." Lady Civata makes a small hand motion to the driver then gives us another beaming smile and a wink. "Until then." The carriage then pulls away. Kicking up leaves and leaving the lot of us in a state of bewildered silence. Kryst head swings back and forth between Cinnamon and I with a raised brow look of confusion. "What the hells was that?!" Chapter 36: All that Glitters We spend the next few minutes following Alec along the well swept and maintained, wide stone streets. Marshal Tomas has departed along with the rest of our previous guard entourage. Headed back to the docks to return to whatever business they get up to in their daily duties, leaving the single corporal as our guide. The gardens that we have been walking alongside look to be part of the grounds ringing the castle ahead and I spot exactly what Alec was referring too. Thorny vines wind around, and through, the branches of many of the trees and hedges that I can see. There are a few store fronts located in this district as well, but where there were hawkers and store owners crying out and vying for attention in the other sections of the city there is none of that here. The mom and pop styled general stores have been replaced with businesses such as jewelry and gem cutters. High-end looking clothing and accessories, all designed to cater to a more posh and polished crowd. "That''s Goldcrown Financial. Banking and currency exchange, should you need it." Alec points out a building where security, decked out in uniforms different to those of the city guard, stand with attentive eyes as patrons come and go. "And just across the street from that is Whispered Words. If you need to send any messages via runner or scriber. Pricey. But they have a good network throughout Redtree and with other cities. I believe most of the nearby towns and villages too." Alec says, turning to Cinnamon. "I''m not positive but I think they may have a connection to Hutchhollow." Her ears perk with the possibility. As interesting as it all is there is a much different topic that that has my attention. The hurricane known as Lady Civata. "So, she''s a governess?" I ask, steering the conversation back to the previous topic before the guard can get distracted with more local landmarks. "In a manner of speaking. The city has a council who discuss, or to be more precise, argue over all the laws and commerce. All that day to day generality that keeps a community running." Alec explains. "Lady Civata deals with commerce and finances. Setting up trade relations with other cities and communities, and by extension the reason why she''s been so heavily involved with the construction going on on the docks." "I see." I nod my understanding. This was good. The gamer gears in my head were turning. Mr. Plogz, Captain Raven, Marshal Tomas and now this Lady Civata. We were making great connections with people of import who could easily prove to be either potential quest givers or open up avenues to others. "And, Raven? You said that you two have talked before?" "Yes." Captain Raven nods. "Never in person, but over scriber on a few occasions. Arranging shipping consignments and the like. If there is anyone who would know her best I would think it would be Mr. Plogz." She looks down to address the goblin walking alongside of her. "Tell me. You have had much dealing with this woman. Will she live up to promised word and get me resolution or is this jus'' another bureaucratic delay tactic, ey?" The goblin lets out a chuckle. " Ever since her electorials the city has had exponential expansions. Shovy she may seem, but sometimes a body must be. If there are any who can slice to the quick with Karabos and sort solution for your fairies it would be Lady Civata." Captain Raven sucks her teeth. "We shall see I suppose." We pause at the gate of the Citadel where Alec steps ahead to have a brief conversation with the guard station before ushering us onward. There are more road sweepers here, along with gardeners and caretakers; busy collecting leaves and trimming the hedges that flank the road that transitions to red brick leading up to a large fountain in front of the Citadel. There are carriages parked around the edges of the courtyard. The drivers brushing down or feeding the handsome looking horses. I spot the sharp looking black and gold carriage that Lady Civata had departed in at the end of our brief meeting amongst them. Alec circles the fountain and makes for the marble steps leading up to a series of doors. "Captain Reigns?" We stop at the voice, turning about as a young brunette girl in her late teens, dressed in what appears to be some sort of medieval business casual outfit, hustles down the marble steps. Weaving around a few other similiarily dressed people standing in her way she moves quickly over to Captain Raven. "Captain Isabella Ravena Reigns? Correct?" She plasters on a smile, "Hello, I''m Ellian. I work in Lady Civatas office. I have been told to come and see you..." She trails off as she fishes about in a small satchel at her side to produce a rolled up parchment. "Here we are. I have a form that needs your signature." "What is this, ey?" Captain Raven cocks a brow. "It is a release for your fairies. Lady Civata wanted me to deliver this to you as soon as you arrived. Word has already been sent that your fairies should be released back to you." "Look at that. Ain''t that great?" I nod to Raven. "Seems you were correct Mr. Plogz." "Not the first time and certainly won''t be the last, Darkson." Plogz chuckles with a pompous grin. He then turns to Captain Raven. "Did I not say that she get things sorted?" Captain Raven makes a unconvinced scoffing sound. "Why were they confiscated to begin with, ey?" "I''m not certain." The young woman shakes her head. "I was only told that I needed to get you to sign to say that your order was indeed received." "Very well." Raven sighs. The lass smiles and produces a inkpot and a small dip styled quill from her satchel which she then holds out expectantly toward Raven. The Airship Captain stares at it, then takes a long over exaggerated look around the courtyard. "And where are my fairies, ey?"Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators! "You simply need to go down to the guard station on Cedar Avenue to pick them up." She points to a roadway that edges out of sight around the side of the gardens headed in the direction of the RedTree. "As I said, they know that they are to released back to you. So you need only present them the form." "Or." Raven holds up two fingers then points them at the girls chest. "You can take it there and I can wait for your return." "There is no need to worry. It won''t be a problem. Lady Civata has already signed the papers, you see." The flustered girl makes a show of indicating a elegant script at the bottom and a wax pressed seal. "No! I am finished with jumping through the circles. I will sign nothing until my fairies are delivered." Raven crosses her arms sternly. "Ah..." The young girl gets an exasperated look. "Well, I really am quite busy at the moment. We have this gala on tonight, you see¡­" "Sounds like a personal problem." Kryst grins, eager to get in on the action of any sort of conflict. "So? Chop-chop, buttercup." ************ "Is that all for today, Sir?" "I think I will take that necklace after all." I whisper, glancing back toward Cinnamon who is talking with the other clerk at the back of the store. Slyly, I hand him the previously quoted coin. "A fine choice." He lowers his voice to match mine and reaches down to retrieve the necklace from beneath the glass counter. I take a look back again to make sure Cinnamon didn''t pick up on the transaction. She had shown a keen interest in the necklace. And it wasn''t that expensive. Relatively. Beside, we were going to some kind of fancy party tonight and it would be nice to give her something nice to wear to... could I think of this like a date? The thought make my hands feel sweaty. I mean kinda, sorta, right? Not only are we supposed to be getting dressed up but I''ll be meeting, well, not her ''dad'' but Geomaister Midnight was a patriarchal father figure. That makes my forehead bead to match my clammy palms. I attempt to distract myself with a glance out the window to see if Ellian has returned yet. The designated meeting spot is a street curb style eatery that reminds me of a modern day coffee shop, though they only served teas and juices. Kryst and Captain Raven had decided not to accompany Cinnamon and I to poke about in the stores while we wait and are instead sitting at one of the outside tables; looking quite out of place as they munch on pastries and sip from steaming china cups. I''m a bit surprised at how much they seem to be enjoying the hot beverages. It certainly didn''t seem like either of their styles. When Raven produces a flask from a hip pouch and pours a generous splash into each of their cups, however, it makes all the more sense. "Will there be anything else you''d like to take a look at, Sir?" The shopkeep slides over a small rectangular wooden box full of the purchases that I''ve made. Some choice pieces of jewelry consisting of a few finger rings, a couple of bracelets, a variety of earrings ranging from simple to ostentatious, and now one rather beautiful looking necklace. "Actually, yes. Would you happen to have any tools for sale?" I ask. "I do a bit of hobby work and the like." "Of course." His eyes beam at the thought of a further sale. "I don''t know what sort of crafting you are looking to do but¡­" He slips through a door into the rear of the store and, after a few moments of shuffling and sorting noises, returns with a selection of boxes and one leather bundle tied with a tassel of cord. The clerk places each on the counter and opens them; rolling out the leather and laying the box tops flat to display the assorted instruments. While he goes through the sales protocol, pointing out the fine construction and usefulness of each of the various tools I focus my attention on each kit. (Travel) Jewelers Toolkit: These specialized tools are used to assist in the pursuit of a craft or trade. Jewelry: Gains a bonus when attempting to identify gemstones, or prove the validity of gemstones. Jewelers Toolkit: +1 bonus to crafting based skill checks -These specialized tools are used to assist in the pursuit of a craft or trade. Jewelry: Gains a bonus when attempting to identify gemstones, or prove the validity of gemstones. (Exceptional) Magitech Toolkit: +3 bonus to crafting based skill checks -These specialized tools are used to assist in the pursuit of a craft or trade. Magitech: Able to create and repair items with innate magical properties. "This one." I cut him off mid-explanation indicating the Magitech toolkit as he points out the usefulness of a small pliers in the Jewelry kit. "How much is this?" "Ah. Yes. That''s an interesting set. You have a good eye, Sir. Now these are better for working with mechtanics and magics." He points to a collection of tiny gears and springs then lifts out a small magnifying glass etched with runes on its handle. "Not really my area of expertise, however, there is a bit of similarity at least in comparison with working with some of the more delicate aspects of jewelry and possible inlaid enchantments." I can tell he is about to launch into another lengthy explanation of the quality of the tools before he hits me with the price tag. I cut to the chase. "The price?" The store keep pauses for a moment. "A hundred gold." My mouth and tongue immediately dry to salt flat desert levels of dehydration. After my previous purchases I didn''t even have a quarter of that. I raise a finger to my lips as if lost in thought while simultaneously machine gunning off a stream of curses in my head. But talk about useful! I''m pretty certain that kit that would open up all kind of possibilities with my skills. I mean I was able to create my badass shades and repair Plogz leg with just my crappy tinkerers travel kit. I go over my the checklist of funds in my mind. I had just under twenty five gold not including silver and copper. What did I still have to bargain with? There was the Naga skin, some Drayger hide, claws and teeth. But I had plans for some of that stuff.Would he even be willing to trade for some of it? It seemed doubtful. Judging by the wares in his store gemstones and precious metals were up his alley much more than ivory or bone. "Is that the best price you can do? I can''t imagine you getting much interest in your shop for a kit like this. Surely it''s just sitting in the back collecting dust." Trading vs Jeweler: Fail! "That is already at a discounted price. True, it''s not my usual stock, but it''s not like the tools have an expiration on them. And with more and more highly qualified craftsmen like yourself coming to the city, I doubt that I will have too much trouble selling them later." He points at the G.U. ring on my finger. It would make sense that he would take notice of any jewelry we were wearing. "I guarantee you, Sir. You will not find a better price or quality here in the city." That didn''t work. If anything it may have made it worse! He did have a very good point. Any magitech crafter would be drooling over these. I give a nervous glance out the window to the sunlit street. Plogz had left us to go deal with some business in the Citadel but I''m fairly sure had he been here he would have snapped the kit up for himself. Reaching into my money pouch I mentally count the coins as I feel about. My fingertips touch something flat on one side and oval shaped on the other. I draw it into my palm. And the world goes white. Chapter 37: Toys for Girls and Boys The unexpected surprise of pain nearly overwhelms me. As my overly sensitive dark elf eyes shoot shocks into my brain, I realise that I''ve started to become familiar with the feeling of getting light-blinded. And I loathe it just as much now as I did the first time it happened. I manage to blink my teary eyes open, squinting the world back into focus. Sunlight streams through the large windows like a laser, the shine on the sparkling jewels in the shop rewarding me with fresh, needle in the eye stabs of stinging torment. Did my shades fall off? My hand searches my face and find that they haven''t gone anywhere. There is still something clutched in my other fist and I open it to reveal a polished gemstone. Intelligence: Success! It takes me a moment but I recognize it as the moonstone I had pried free from the ruined rusty dagger Cinnamon and I had found back in the Naga cave. I drop it onto the counter in confusion and instantly the room darkens. Transforming from awful spotlight brightness and back to wonderful, sunglass shielded normality. "Sir? Is everything alright?" The jeweler asks. "Yeah, sorry. Just some light caught me in the eye is all." He gives me a strange look. Whatever bargaining tactic I was trying to employ this was definitely not one he had been expecting. "Brian? What happened?" Cinnamon appears seemingly from nowhere. Suddenly standing next to me and not at the back of the shop where she had been admiring bangles and bracelets in a display cabinet. "I''m fine." I chuckle in an attempt to try and sooth the worry from her eyes, while my skin flushes warm at her concern. My need to play it cool forces me to turn my attention on the stone on the counter. Focusing as I had done with the tool kits. Enchanted Moonstone: Magical Component: While held this enchanted stone negates penalties imposed from non-magical darkness. What the heck? How had I not noticed that before? Thinking back,when we had gathered up all the treasure we had simply separated out the monetary value items and coinage from the gear. I hadn''t even thought to check with my¡­What should I call it? My Analyse ability? Yeah, that works. Hidden Special Ability: Identify - Renamed: Analyse. A good rule of thumb in gaming when it came to picking out the magic items from the mundane were they were usually visually distinctive. It was certainly that way with Cinnamons magical arrows and my sword. Second, they were typically hard to destroy. The moonstone does look nice. Unscratched or blemished for a stone of its size, but nothing really stands out about it. And the dagger I had pried it from had been a rust pitted wreck. So, perhaps those rules didn''t apply here? I''d definitely have to keep it in mind for the future. For now, figuring out this new magic item took priority. Was it simply cancelling the ''darkness'' of my shades? I test my theory, picking up the stone then dropping it back on the counter. I''m prepared for it this time and manage to squint away the worst of it but sure enough each time it is the same result. One moment my vision is normal and then bam! It''s high noon in sunlight city. How had I not noticed before? Thinking back I suppose the only time I had really handled the stone was back in the Naga cave. And there hadn''t really been enough light inside to cause much of a notable difference. "Hey, Cinni buns? Could you do me a favor?" I point to the moonstone on the counter. "This stone here? Could you just pick it up and tell me if it gets brighter for you? But, please be careful. It might get really bright, alright?" "Umm. Alright." Cinnamon gives me a confused look but delicately picks up the stone and studies it with a cute, almost closed eye squint of concentration. After a moment I realise she is waiting for it to start glowing or something. "No, I didn''t mean the actual stone." I grin. "The room. Did the room get brighter?" "Ohh?" Cinnamon pauses and turns her head taking in the sunlight shop. "No, I¡­ well, maybe a... little?" Her little bunny tail double twitches, and I can tell she is wondering if she''s answered correctly. When I don''t answer Cinnamon finally shakes her head. "No. I don''t think so, Brian." I run my fingers through my hair. Then come up with a idea. "Okay, put it back on the counter." I give her a smile and then pull my hooded cloak off my shoulders. "Now, this might seem weird but bear with me?" She does as instructed and I toss the cloak over her head and tent it out. "Can you see anything?" I ask. "No silly. I have a cloak over my head." I take her hand and guide it back to the moonstone, wrapping her fingers over it. "How about now?" "Brian are you making fun of... Oh goodness!" "You can see now?" I ask. The cloaked lump that resembles a bed sheet ghost nods vigorously and she tents the garment a bit more. "Yes, I can! I mean I can see inside the cloak, not through it or anything, but... Uh huh! It''s letting me see in the dark!" Oh yeah, baby! Show me the money! I lean on the counter and grin at the shopkeep who has been watching the exchange with keen interest. "So? How much will you give me for a magical moonstone?" "What?!" Cinni gives a muffled cry, cutting off the store owner before he can speak. Bedsheet ghost Cinnamon wobbles awkwardly between us pulling the cloak off her head. "You can''t sell it, Brian!" "I don''t really have any use for it, Cinni-buns. I can already see in the dark." I grin. "But¡­" Cinni pouts, her fingers tighten on the stone for a moment then she lets out a soft sigh and holds it toward to me slowly. "I suppose that it is yours." She mumbles. Insight vs Cinnamon Butter: Success! I''m milliseconds away from taking the stone back and slapping it on the counter. Eager to begin verbal sparing trade and bartering with the jeweler. The disappointment in Cinnamon''s eyes makes me pause. Wait? She is a rabbit-person. Surely she must have pretty good nightvision. Right? "Hey, Cinni? How good can you see at night?" "Well... Lepuri have better vision at dawn and dusk than we do at night." She shakes her head from side to side. "Maybe about the same as a human, I guess? So not very good." Jeez! I very nearly slap myself on the forehead at my dumbness. She probably has something like old school Low-light vision. What the hell was I thinking? Cinnamon being able to see clearly in the dark for watch, or to sneak about without needing a torch or light to guide the way would be beneficial for all of us. This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it. Simply having another party member with darkvision would be great, but combined with those sensitive ears of hers? Surely all of her perception, scouting and stealth related abilities would increase exponentially too, right? My greedy knee-jerk desire to get something for myself almost had me selling a really useful item. But man, I really wanted that kit. "Yeah. You are right, I''m sorry Cinni." Internally I chastise myself for both my selfishness and the noob player move. "Of course you can have it." She gets a wide eyed, happy look and her ears practically quiver with joy; which immediately brightens my dampened spirit. "You will not be purchasing the kit then, Sir?" "No. I''m afraid not." I shake my head and manage to keep from letting out a Charlie Brown ''Arrrgh!'' "How much is it?" Cinnamon blurts out. "It''s a hundred gold, Cinni." I drop the pretense of possibly having the cash. "Way to expensive for me to afford at the moment." "But you want it. Correct?" Her eyes narrow and her ears swivel ever so slightly as if she is listening to the room. "Well, yeah, but¡­" The dark look that had flashed across Cinnamons face disappears. She tugs open her own pouch and pulls out a collection of coins and a few gems. "Will this be enough?" She asks, counting out forty two gold and indicates the gems. The shopkeep studies the collection then shakes his head at the couple of rubies and a small pearl. "I''m afraid not, Miss. You will still be about twenty gold short." Cinnamon looks distraught, her ears lowering. Insight vs Cinnamon Butter: Success! She glances down at the moonstone in her hand and I know she is about to give it up. "I have a suggestion." I offer. Excitement bubbles up in my chest but I keep the grin off my face. That kit was mine! I could make up the difference in coin on the spot, but then we would be almost completely out of money. Beside that there was also another theory that I wanted to test out. I pull out five gold so that I still have a few coins left to barter with and add it to the pile, then place a few Drayger teeth along with them. Opening the box with my previous purchases I pause, then take out the necklace. Buying it for Cinni had been a spur of the moment decision. I still wasn''t a hundred percent sure giving it to her was the right thing to do. We had only known each other for a few days and here I was buying her jewelry. Was that moving too fast? Would she get the wrong idea? I didn''t want to seem like some kind of sugar daddy. Nor did I want to come across as the desperate loser guy trying way too hard to impress the hot girl with gifts either. Although, she does want to ''buck'' me... Deliberately not looking at Cinnamon to see her reaction to the necklace I slide it, and the coins across the counter. "How about the toolkit, for the gold, the gems, some Drayger teeth, and if you can take Cinni''s moonstone here and replace the gem in the necklace with it, you can keep the gem you remove too." The shopkeep picks up a couple of the teeth and studies them. He doesn''t seem particularly impressed. "With some polishing up and carving they would make good settings for pendants." I offer. Persuasion vs Jeweler: Success! He purses his lips in thought, then gives a small nod and places the teeth back down with the rest. My heart beats a bit faster as he ponders for a few moments, his eyes darting between the items; doing mental calculations as he looks over the pile. Finally he nods. Trading vs Jeweler: Success! "You have a deal." He smiles. "Would you like to wait while I change the stones? It shouldn''t take long." "Definitely." I nod my head and the shopkeep calls over a second clerk to collect and wrap up my purchase. He then collects the necklace, moonstone and the unpurchased jewelers kits and disappears through the doorway to the back. I grin and take Cinnamons hand in mine planting a kiss on her knuckles. "Have I told you how amazing you are today?" The insides of her ears flush a little. She giggles and nods her head. "Yeah, you did. This morning." "Well, I''ll just have to say it again then. Thank you so much, Cinni. I really wanted that kit." "I could tell. Beside, it''s the least I could do for..." She pauses and her tail double twitches. "Hey, Brian? Did you¡­ the necklace? Did you buy that for me?" Damn. A flush of embarrassment tightens my guts. It may have been a mistake after all. Do I deny it? I try and study Cinnamon to gauge what she might be thinking... Insight vs Cinnamon Butter: Fail! ...but I can''t tell which way the timid look she has is leaning, freaked out or pleased? C''mon, Brian! Man up, dude! "Yeah." I shrug. "You said that you liked it so I thought I''d get it for you. Figured that way you would at least have something nice to wear tonight. It was going to be a surprise." I run my fingers through my hair then give a smile. "Surprise?" "That is so thoughtful of you, Brian." Cinnamon gives me her coo smile then wraps her arms around me in a hug. It''s hard to stay cool when a playboy ''bunny'' playmate is squishing against you in all the right ways, and in light of the challenge, I think I do a damn fine job of not turning into a nosebleed spraying anime geek. "Flattery will get you everywhere, Cinni-buns." I smirk. Done with any further purchases we absently browse the wares as we wait for the jeweler to return. I''d like to get into some deeper conversation but it doesn''t seem like the right time or place and so we chat idly. Pointing out items to each other that catch our eye. Cinni occasionally giving me happy hip bumps as we walk about. The both of us simply enjoying each others company for a few minutes. Faster than either of us realise the jeweler returns from his back room workshop with the finished necklace on a square of black satin cloth. He presents it to us and I take a moment to Analyse it. Necklace of Night Eyes: Magical Gear: While wearing this necklace penalties imposed from non-magical darkness are negated, allowing the wearer to see in the dark as if it were normal daylight. Yes! It worked! I had a feeling that it would but having it confirmed gets me super pumped. The stone on its own had to be held to grant darkvision, however when I used my Analysis on it I''d noticed that it could function as a magical component too. Pretty crazy cool that just inserting it into some new form of holder created a totally new item. I take the cloth and necklace from the jeweler and step behind Cinnamon. She gives me a demure smile then turns and delicately moves her long chestnut hair out of the way for me to loop the necklace about her slender neck. Time seems to slow. I don''t know if it''s the enchantment of the stone, the way the light catches her hair, or the subtle tilt of her shoulder and the feel of her silky skin under my finger tips. Whatever it may be the both of us are held in a magical moment as I fasten the clasp. "It looks wonderful on you, Miss." The jeweler compliments. Sliding my hands over the top of her shoulders I step back and I nod in agreement. "Thank you." Cinnamon gives us both her coo smile. "And thank you again, Brian." She leans over and gives me a cute, friendly peck on the cheek. The fear that I overdid it with the gift surface again. That I may have, in one fell swoop, ruined my chances with my bunny babe and gotten myself unceremoniously shoved into the universally dreaded, friend zone. Insight vs Cinnamon Butter: Success! My libido back hands those pessimistic thoughts away when she pulls back. Vegetarian she may be, but judging by the hungry look in her eye, she was also a maneater. "I''m glad you like it, Cinni-buns." I say. Forcing the now stoked fires in my loins down to a dull roar I tap on the case of the Magitech tools then lift it from the counter. "And the same goes for you helping me get these." "It was my pleasure, Brian." She coos. As I open my backpack to stow my belongings I chuckle at the way we have stepped into stereotype. For someone like myself who has never been particularly handy, it''s strange that here in role play fantasy land, I''m a man who is overjoyed with getting a big ol'' box full of tools; while my hot... ''girlfriend?'' is elated over receiving some expensive new jewelry. While Cinnamon collects her bags that she''d left in a corner of the store I pause for a moment to remove my shades. Prepared for it the glare isn''t as bad, though I still almost unconsciously, turn my back to the window to avoid the direct sunlight. Using the soft black satin like cloth the necklace had been presented to us on I clean my sunglasses; which have become rather smudged with all the handling they have received lately. "Sir? If you don''t mind me asking." The jeweler spreads his arms on the counter as I pack the cloth into the small wooden box that contains the jewelry I''d purchased. The idea of converting the box into a protective case for my shades another thing on my to do list. "The eyewear that you have." He continues, "Where did you purchase them? Are they something from back¡­ home?" The question rocks me back on my heel and I fixate on the man with what must be a intense ''what you talkin'' bout Willis'' expression. Presence Attack vs Jeweler: Success! "I didn''t mean to pry." He stammers. "I''m just not very familiar with Drow design." Realising what he meant; that he wasn''t referring to the really, real world, and the fact that I was even more of a stranger in a strange land than my fantasy race dictated, causes me to soften my piercing glare. "Actually, I made these myself." I slip my shades back on. "Yourself, you say?" He seems to think for a moment, his smile becoming even more friendly. "You know, if you will be working in the city for a while and find yourself with a bit of free time, try and swing by. I''d love to discuss more about your work." In the corner of my eye I see Cinnamon practically skip toward the door and I move over and hold it open for her. "Sure. I''ll do that." Chapter 38: Communication With a few more final good day wishes for the clerks and jeweler Cinnamon and I step out of the shop and onto the covered walkway. Alec, having decided to wait outside of Goyce''s - Fine Gems and Jewelry while Cinnamon and I did our shopping, spots us as we exit and strides over from where he''d been leaning against a carved wooden support pillar a few yards away. "Thanks for this." I say to the guard. "I hope that we are not taking to long." Alec shakes his head. "My orders were to make sure you got to the guest accommodations of Citadel. Which I will do. But Marsh never mentioned that it needed to be a direct route." He grins as the three of us make our way across the street toward the tea shop and step up onto the curb. "When you are ready to head there just let me know. Till then, take your time. I''m in no rush to get back." "Too Tall! Carrots!" Kryst calls out as we approach and motions us to come closer like she has the biggest secret in the world. "What''s up, Kryst?" Drawing adjacent to the table I see she is in the middle of a guffawing laugh. "Damn, you two have got to hear this." Kryst wipes at the tears at the corner of her eye then points to Captain Raven who is sipping away at her alcohol laced tea with a sly smirk. "Alright, listen. Raves here just told me this one¡­ A new sailor is on a boat and you know, he gets to feeling amorous. So then the Quartermaster says there is a magic barrel in the hold, but he can''t visit the barrel on Thirday or Fiveday because that''s when HE is scheduled for the barrel¡­" Kryst lets out another peal of laughter then waves her arms about frantically, "No, wait! Wait! I told it wrong! And it''s not the Quartermaster it''s the new sailor guy. In the barrel, I mean. Did I say, there are no women on the boat? Okay, so... Magic barrel and it''s got this knot hole, right?" Kryst giggle-snorts for almost a full minute, leaving all of use feeling a bit uncomfortable as we wait. Finally she shakes her head. "Ahh, nevermind. Raves tells it better." "Really?" I roll my eyes. "I can scarcely imagine." "This one. This girl here? She''ll have you holding your sides to keep them from splitting. She is funny!" Kryst grins and motions to me and Raven, "I mean, Too Tall here is funny as well, but he is like, weird funny." She points at Raven again, "Where Raves is like ''ha-ha'' funny. If you understand?" Kryst pauses to look directly at me. "She is comedic, is what I am sa--" "I get the gist." I cut Kryst off, and lean over the table to poach a corner off of the tart she is eating. "Anyway, how are the pastries?" "Hey! That''s mine." Krystal attempts to smack my fingers away but is to busy with her comedy critique to catch my nimble digits. "You never steal food from a fairy! That''s a sure way to get a busted butt bone." "Seeing as I''m the one that gave you the coin for it I contest that it''s mine, ya little scrub." I pop the still warm piece of pastry into my mouth and the taste takes me back to another time. Generously filled, the tart has finely chopped chunks of sticky apple baked into a crumbly crust. Quite similar to the various fruit filled pie pockets that were on the menu at Big Joes. Although, I had always preferred the chocolate filled ones. I''d been employed at the family owned restaurant for just shy of six months a few years ago, and used to eat myself near sick of the delectable desserts. It hadn''t been that bad of a job, except that the hours had been awful. The food was great, and, being as Joe made most of his menu from scratch, I''d managed to pick up a few tips and memorised enough recipes during the time that my passable cooking skills had sharpened to something akin to competent. Unlocked: Free Background Skill: Cooking x2 Free Background Skills Remaining "You shouldn''t be eating all this sweet stuff, anyway, Kryst. You keep gorging like you do and you''ll end up with a bubble belly." I tease, "In fact, I am pretty sure you have packed on some pudge since we first met." "What?!" Kryst takes the bait. She looks down at her washboard ab stomach with an incredulous look. Exploiting the opening I reach over and poke her in her tummy, giving the pillsbury doughboy giggle as I do. Though none of my companions have any clue of the reference the act still greatly amuses them all. Save Kryst. This time I''m not fast enough. The Kung-Fu fairy darts forward to lock my finger with her arms and a knee, bending it back painfully. "Ow! Alright! Uncle! Uncle!" I say. "Go ahead. Call for your mother, father and every relative and sibling you''ve got. They can''t help you now, Too Tall!" Kryst bends my finger back further and I''m afraid if she continues she may actually snap the bone. "It means I give! You win!" I grunt gripping the edge of the table with my other hand. Keenly aware of the others looking I try and maintain some composure of cool. General Skill: Deception vs Kryst Thunderfist: Fail! General Skill: Deception vs Cinnamon Butter: Fail! General Skill: Deception vs Captain Raven: Success! General Skill: Deception vs Corporal Alec: Fail! "Oh!" Kryst immediately releases me and for a moment gets a sheepish look to her face. "You should have just said that then." She lets out a huff, then turns to everyone. A thumb pointed in my direction. "See? Weird funny." "I like it." Cinnamon says in my defense. I flex my hand in and out of a fist returning the blood flow to my finger. Eager to turn the conversation toward something else I nod to Captain Raven. "Still no sign of your shipment?" "Not as yet, no." The Captain shakes her head and leans back in her chair, pushing the front legs off the ground to balance on the back two. "What of you, ''ey? You find what you had been looking for?" She asks indicating the direction of the jewelry store with a head bob. "We did!" Cinnamon blurts directly at Captain Raven, her voice tinted with excitement and without any of her previous prickly attitude from when the two had conversed. "Brian bought me a necklace." Cinnamon tosses her hair back and shows off the jewelry touching it gingerly to accentuate. "A lovely gift." Captain Raven raises a brow and leans forward in her chair, the front legs an inch above the flagstones of the sidewalk. She studies the necklace with a keen eye. "Extremely so." "I agree with the Captain." Alec smiles, "You look very fetching in it, Miss. Butters." Cinnamon beams, her ears flushing at the compliments. "Eh. It''s alright." Kryst turns away, "If you are into that kind of gaudy sorta stuff, I suppose." She gives a nonchalant shrug of attitude and waves a hand absently over her shoulder. The fairy moves back to her apple tart and pulls free a chunk of fruit; her avoidance of looking at either Cinnamon or I directly, keenly apparent. Insight vs Kryst Thunderfist: Success! Was she jealous? My mind flicks back to the strange ''kiss'' that we had shared on the side of the cliff and I feel a touch of embarrassment take root in my gut. Is she into me? Really? Or is it just that she just wants a bit of my attention too and simply feels left out? I glance about. Krysts attitude has had a strange effect. The silence after her statement hasn''t lulled the conversation into discomfort yet but I know it won''t be long. "Hey, Alec? Since Raven is still waiting for her shipment There is one other place I''d like to pop into." I motion down the street to one of the buildings he''d pointed out to us before. "You can stay here if you want, I shouldn''t be long." "Uhh, sure. I could do with a sip and a nibble. Do you ladies mind?" Alec reaches for one of the chairs and both Kryst and Raven indicate its fine for him to take a seat with them." He glances over the teacups and grins at the two women. "And as much as I''d like to try some tea with a bit of that added flavoring of yours, Captain. I better refrain. Active duty and all that."If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. "Of course." Captain Raven smiles. "You mind if I come too, Brian?" Cinnamon asks. "Of course not, Cinni-buns. You know your company is always a pleasure." I smile, but catch a side stink-eye from Kryst as she sits on her bullet shell casing chair at the tiny stone table I''d set up for her. Her postures stiff but I have an idea to shake loose that bit of attitude. "Hey, nuisance." I give a little poke to the fairy then plop a gold piece onto her stone table. "Get something tasty for me too, would you? And if you want something else, feel free." "One gold piece? What are you trying to do? Starve me?" Kryst holds up the coin and shakes it in the air, but now sports a huge grin. It was an extraordinary amount of money for pastries after all. "A diet certainly couldn''t hurt you, chubby." I tease. Turning about I start to walk down the street with Cinnamon. "And I expect to get back change." "We all have dreams, I suppose!" I hear Kryst call back with a laugh. Hearing the laugh makes me feel a bit better. Kryst definitely got off on both attention and verbal banter. She was in many ways like one of the guys. If you could look past the 12 inch tall, gossamer winged, fitness model physique. We have almost reached the end of the street, and our destination Whispered Words, when I feel Cinnamon reach over to and take my hand in hers. "Does your finger still hurt?" Cinnamon lifts my hand and inspects my hand gently rubbing it. "Nah. Maybe a little sore but its fine." I say. "Kryst got me good. But I am glad that she stopped bending it back when she did. My gun may be a piece of crap but I certainly don''t need a broken trigger finger to go along with it." Cinnamon nods and we step around a tall fellow who is slowing up some of the foot traffic on the sidewalk and bee line toward the doorway to the scriber based messenger business. We are only a step or two away when Cinnamon stops. "Well, if it''s still sore. I remember you said the other day to Kryst that a kiss could make it better. So..." Cinnamon lifts my finger to her lips. My knees nearly buckle at the erotic visual, nevermind the sensation, as she places a series of feather light kisses along its length. Cinnamon then pauses, looks me dead in the eye, and delivers one more lingering final kiss upon my finger tip. "Does that feel better?" She asks in a soft voice. My mouth opens but no words come out. Only a weird inhale squeak. Is she screwing with me? Left speechless, my legs turn to water, while other parts transform into titanium steel. I mean there is no way she can''t be. She has to know exactly what she is doing. Right? Insight vs Cinnamon Butter: Fail! I gaze into those big brown eyes of hers and I can''t tell if it''s simple shy naivety that she''s showing me or if I am being toyed with like a cat would a mouse. A person moves past us with an agitated clearing of throat and she glances to the side. "I guess we better stop standing in the way, huh?" Cinnamon gives me a smile and then steps inside. It takes me a few more seconds and a couple of steadying breaths to get my feet working again, but I finally manage to follow. The interior of Whispered Words is painted a light blue and has only one large window stretched along the length of the open room. Opposite the window is a partitioned off area that reminds me of a post office; complete with a series of tellers behind wooden desks. There is also a hallway with a series of closed doors. Most likely private rooms where customers can go to send and receive confidential messages. Cinnamon looks around and then points toward a large board that looks to have a listing of services and prices. "I''ll just be over there, okay?" Cinni says. I clear my throat first, to make sure my voice comes out good and manly, before responding. "Sure." I glance around. "I shouldn''t be to long either. I just want to ask a few questions." Perception: Success! I spot and important looking middle aged woman standing over the desk of one of the teller types. With my background in the service industry it is easy for me to recognize the air of authority in both her dress and mannerisms that single her out as someone in a managerial role. Cinnamon and I split apart and I head in the direction of the woman. Ignoring the queue I instead walk past it and over to an empty section of counter where I wait until she''s finished talking with the ''teller'' then catch her attention with a raised hand and a smile. She returns it in a practiced manner then walks over. "Good afternoon. Is there something I can help you with?" She asks. "Yes, hi." I extend my hand. "My name''s Brian." "Janeil." she says with a pleasant smile. "I may have a bit of an odd question for you, Janeil. Do you sell scribers?" "That''s not that odd of a question. But yes we do. Are you looking for something portable? Or¡­" she trails off as I shake my head. "Actually this is where the oddness comes in. See, I was wondering if you happen to have any that may be in disrepair or no longer functioning? "A broken scriber?" Janeil purses her lips. "I''m not sure I understand." "I''m new to town, you see, and I am working with the G.U." It might be a bit of a fib, even if I do have the credentials, but my membership with the organisation did seem to grease the wheels a bit when I was dealing with the jeweler earlier. My hope is it will do the same for me here. I hold up my hand to indicate the ring that Plogz gave to me. Insight vs Janeil: Fail! However, if she knows what it means she gives no outward indication. "Oh? You are with the Union." She pauses and then turns toward some desks behind her. "I may have something now that you mention it." She walks over to a larger desk and opens a few drawers, rooting around until she finds something. She comes back hands me a scriber that is a little smaller than the one Marshal Tomas had been using. A large crack splits the slate and a chunk the size of a drink coaster is missing. Leaving only broken fragments wedged into the splintered wooden frame. I take a moment and Analyse it. Smashed Scriber: Magical Item. Broken beyond repair this Scribers days of sending messages are now over. "This has certainly had a number done on it." I give a little whistle. I was hoping that my Analysis would tell me a bit more. I think on the various plans that have been kicking around in my head since I learned of these devices in an attempt to solidify them more firmly in my mind. Inventor + Complementary Skill: Magitech: Success! Much like the lenses that I had used to make my shades, the knowledge is pure instinct. Designs materialize with inexplicable clarity in my mind''s eye as I study the cracked slate in my hand. "This one was unfortunately dropped." Janiel says. "Normally it wouldn''t have been a problem, they are quite sturdy, but it was then stepped on by a horse and wouldn''t you just know it, run over by the wagon it was pulling." "That''d do it." I chuckle, keeping up the banter. "So, would this be for sale?" General Skill: Persuasion vs Janiel: Fail! "Well this was one of the in house scribers we use." Janiel nods, "We find it perfect for keeping in contact with our runners in the city who are out on message or delivery runs. It is a bit more durable but I might recommend something with a thicker slate and frame. A design that could take a bit more punishment. I know those Goblins can be quite clumsy." "Pardon?" I feel my brows knit. "It wouldn''t survive a fall off the cliff or anything but we could offer you something similar to this, if you are budgeting and simply need something with short range. Though it should be more than enough to cover the distance from the Harbor docks to top of Cragcliff." She lowers her voice a little. "Not to be crass, after all, I have friends who are goblins, but I''ve seen their antics over there on the docks. I don''t imagine something too delicate would last long with they way they¡­ work." "I''m not looking to purchase for the Union." I shake my head catching onto the miscommunication. "This is for personal use." "Ahh." Janiel shoots me confused look. "I thought you wanted to see the kind of damage they could sustain." Her confused look transforms to one of caution. "So¡­? Why do you want a broken scriber then?" "My field is more along the lines of mechtanics but I''m a bit of a hobbyist in other areas." I say, "Enchantments and so forth hold a particular interest." Turning the device over in my hands, I make a show of looking it over. "I enjoy pulling things apart. To study them. Learn how they tick." General Skill: Persuasion vs Janiel: Tie! "I see." She nods slowly. "I''ve never played around with scribers before, but I''m hoping to maybe learn a trick or two. That''s why I was looking for a broken one. I don''t want to trying messing around with something that actually works and break it." "That would be a rather expensive mistake." She says. "No doubt." "Well, I don''t know how useful this will be." Janiel shrugs, "I mean it''s really not much left." "You can say that again." I chuckle. "I don''t know if I''ll be able to do much more than toss it in the trash to be honest. But it would be nice to give it a look over in any case." I tap the edge of the scriber. "So what do you say? Would you be willing to sell this to me?" I follow up the question with, what I hope, is a charming smile. Charm vs Jeniel: Success! General Skill: Persuasion vs Jeniel + Bonus from Complementary Skill: Critical Success! "Alright, I suppose, I could sell it¡­" She reaches over and takes the device from my hand. "How about¡­?" Janiel sucks her teeth and bobbles her head from side to side for a moment. "You know what? It''s fine you can take it." She holds the device out to me with a smile. "No charge." "Are you sure?" I boggle. I wasn''t expecting that. "I am. I''d been thinking of getting this one repaired but even if it could be, the cost wouldn''t be worth it. Beside it''s been sitting in my desk for a couple of weeks now." "Thank you, Janeil." Careful not to let any of the loose shards of slate fall free I take back the offered scriber. "Should I need any messages or courier services you are the lady I will come and see." "Please do. We have a wide array of services, and we are ever expanding." Janiel says proudly then points toward Cinnamon who has finished looking at the board and is making her way over. "Please let your friend know that we have recently set up a connection with Hutchhollow." "Thanks again. And I will." I stash the scriber away in a pouch. Pushing away from the counter with a wave I turn toward the approaching Cinnamon. "Brian?" Cinni steps close then points outside the window to a horse-drawn wagon that is pulling to a stop at the tea shop. "I think that Ellian girl is back." Chapter 39: Troubleshooter "Oh for the love of Pete." I release a sigh and pinch the bridge of my nose, the exasperation in my voice clear. By the looks of it, I''m not the only one experiencing that particular emotion. Ellian, Captain Raven, the guardsman wagon driver, Kryst, well she was always antsy so no surprise there, even Alec looks a bit perturbed. The trouble apparently started mere moments after the wagon had arrived, before Cinni and I had even walked back. Presented with the parchments to recognize delivery Captain Raven had still refused to sign the receipt until the fairys were delivered back to her ship. "As I have already said I have much more important and pressing matters to attend." Ellian angrily dabs a cloth over a forehead damp with sweat from her run to the guardhouse. "I have honored your wishes and retrieved your fairys, and in doing so put myself behind schedule I may add. You cannot expect me to now further abandon my other duties simply to go traipsing down to the docks." "What is important for you is not my concern." Her feathers ruffled Captain Raven crosses her arms and leans back in her chair, growing more obstinate by the minute. "Captain! You are being completely unreasonable." Ellian smoothes the paperwork out on the table once more as if that would somehow convince the airship captain to sign. "You have your responsibilities as do I. Mine is to ship and crew. Should I sign that and then anything happen to my fairys while transporting them back. What then, ey? I would have no leg on which to stand for legal compensation." "So what is it that we''re doing?" The wagon driver asks, looking between the two as they bicker. "Because I thought we were just coming over here to drop these things off. I wasn''t told anything about going over to Cragcliff." "Even worse!" Ravens eyes go wide and she focuses her venom toward Ellian. "How am I supposed to move them, ey? Leave them here on the street while I wander off to hire transport?" "Whispered Words is right there." Ellian points to the business that Cinnamon and I had just visited. "They do courier service and goods delivery." "At my expense, ey? Do me a favor." Captain Raven scoffs. "If you get a receipt you can submit through Lady Civata''s office and¡­" Ellian continues on and I tune out. The entire situation stirs recollections of similar cases in game where players would argue over the silliest of details. We once discussed for over an hour who was carrying the blankets in preparation of heading to a dungeon that was a day and a half away from town. It later became a long running gag in our group, ''Alright last thing before we go guys. Who has the blankets? ha-ha, chuckle, guffaws all around.'' Sure it was funny later but at the time it was anything but humorous. Exactly like now. "Guys! This ain''t rocket surgery!" I raise my voice to silence the back and forth jibes and growing arguments. I''m not sure if its the volume or the surgery comment but for a moment they do go quiet. "Ellian, Captain Raven. This whole form thing is to show that the shipment was released by the guard and received by you, right? Well, give the forms to Alec. He is a Corporal after all, and he has to go back to the docks anyway. I''m assuming this is a polic-- guardwagon? I''m sure you could ask¡­ err what was your name?" The guardsman standing in the driver seat of the wagon starts for a moment when I address him. "Damir." He replies. "I''m sure you could ask, or no offence," I nod politely at the guard, "order Damir to give you a lift to the dock." I thumb at Captain Raven, "You drop Raven and the fairys off at her ship and she can then sign the forms. In the presence of two guards even." I give a raised brow to both Raven and Ellian. "Would you be fine with that, Captain? Ellian?" General Skill: Persuasion vs Captain Raven: Success! General Skill: Persuasion vs Ellian: Success! "I would." Captain Raven gives a nod.This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience. "If it is witnessed by the guard¡­" Ellian chews her lip for a moment then nods. "Yes. That would be fine." "Great." I give a glance to the parchment on the table. I''d racked up plenty of time behind registers and in the warehouse to know how things worked when it came to bookkeeping. "I''m assuming one is like a customer copy and the other a sort of administration copy, correct?" "Yes." Ellian nods and thumbs through the various forms indicating each, she then separates a page and holds it up. "Damir can take the release, this one, back to the guard house." "If the Corporal covers my butt as to why I didn''t return right away, I''ve got no issue with any of that." Damir says. "Problem is," Alec shrugs, "I do have orders, Brian. I''m supposed to see you to the guest--" "That''s fine." Refusing to get caught up with more inconsequential reasons, I cut him off, "Look we all climb on the wagon. Go back to Citadel that''s like, what? A two or three minute ride away, if that? We get dropped off." I indicate Cinnamon, Kryst, Ellian and myself. "Ellian you can show us where we need to go for these guestrooms or whatever. Alec you did your escort thing. Raven you are a getting your fairys. Biggidy, bang, boom. Problems all solved." In order to remove any more possible debate I reach over the table and slide the papers toward Alec. After a moment of confusion he looks to Ellian, who nods. Alec then gathers up the parchments and packs them into a large belt pouch. "Now ladies and gentlemen? We''re burning daylight here." I make a motion to the wagon and in the direction of the Sliverstone Citadel. Perception: Success! "He''s so assertive." To my left Cinnamon quietly coo swoons and Kryst, perched on her shoulder, rolls her eyes. Cinnamon''s reaction makes my ego swell with elation. She was right. But then, the thought gives me pause. The back and forth conflict was easy enough to step forward and take charge in. Yet, I had never done similar in my normal day to day. I''d been witness to many disagreements in the workplace between co-workers with conflicting personalities that could have been just as easily solved if I had had the intestinal fortitude to simply step up. Why was this different? Was it because I was still thinking of this as a game? Decisions had consequences here just as much as in my real life so I really shouldn''t be. This was as immersive as things got. Sight, sounds, scents, touch, pain, pleasure, excitement and fear. Everything felt as real and as natural as it always had; with these enhanced Drow senses, sometimes even more so. When I recover from my personal reflection zone out I notice that the group has packed up. I manage to grab up my change from the coin I''d left with Kryst and barely snatch a Danish looking pastry from the table before she rips a chunk out of it. One by one the others clamber up onto the wagon. Ellian steps up to take a seat next to the driver while Alec hoists himself into the back with an conveniently placed ladder-like rung. Cinnamons ears stiffen and she lets out an adorable squeak of surprise as, holding my pastry in my mouth, I take her by the waist and lift her up. It was a silly gesture, the woman could leap tall buildings in a single bound after all, but Cinni seems to like it and she giggles out a ''Thank you, Brian'' and her ears fold cutely. I turn and start to offer Raven a hand up but she deftly spin-hops to sit on the edge of the wagon in a pose that wouldn''t be out of place on a advertising billboard. Leaving me to be the last to climb on. "If you are done slippering up Lepuri loins with your foolishness, think you can hustle it along?" Kryst flutters about my head then alights onto my shoulder. "You''re always in such a rush." I pull the Danish from my mouth and point to her with it. "You know, some things are better when you take your time." I waggle my brows with a grin but don''t wait for her inevitable biting comeback and instead parkour bounce up onto the wagon using one of the hanging-light lamp posts lining the sidewalk. Showing off Legolas style I add way more flourish than needed by balancing effortlessly on the wagons sideboards. Inside the back of the wagon long, hinged wooden benches run almost the entire length of the flatbed. One is still folded up against the side while on the other Cinnamon has chosen a spot near the center and is in the midst of removing her gear and knapsack in order to get more comfortable. Stepping down into the wagon I notice the sidewall on which I''d been standing has notched groves and odd bars placed at equidistant intervals. General Skill: Deduction: Fail! "Hey, Alec?" Unsure what they are my curiosity gets the better of me. I motion to the side walls and the groves. "What are those for?" "Shield racks." Alec fiddles with a catch on the opposite side and lowers the second bench which locks into place with a click. "Clears up space in the back and offers protection for the occupants in the event of civil unrest and the like." Alec takes a seat at the end of the bench, closer to where Raven is perched on what would be the tailgate. "Oh, yeah I get you. Sort of like a Viking boat. Makes the wagon a medieval A.P.C." I nod and take a bite from my snack. "A what?" Alec glances at me curiously. "Armored Personnel Carrier." I say around a mouthful of jam and buttery pastry. Alec gives me another odd look and Kryst smacks me just behind the ear. "Stop being weird!" The wagon starts moving and Kryst leaves my shoulder and flutters over to get in on Raven and Alec''s conversation, continuing on with whatever topic they had been talking about before Ellian an the wagon had arrived. I sidle over to take a seat across from Cinnamon, removing my pack as well. I offer the Danish to her and she takes a dainty nibble while I turn my attention to what all the fuss is about. A cage full of fairys. Chapter 40: Pilfering I slide my butt down the bench, closer toward the cage, to get a better look. When I had originally spotted the fairies on the docks they had been locked up in three or four square, milk crate sized cages. Now they have been transferred into something more akin to an actual birdcage. However, like many of the things in this world it looks like it has been ripped straight out of a CGI animators imagination more than anything I have ever seen in a real world pet store. Made from a twisted latticework of thin interconnected branches wrapped with clinging vines the cage has an appearance that suggests that the entire thing was grown instead of constructed. A theory that cements even more strongly in my mind as I see some of the bars and vines have small leaves and even tiny blooming flowers upon them. The natural beauty of it makes the small metal lock clipped across the cage door look completely out of place. Quite large it is pushed up against the front of the wagon where the driver and Ellian sit and is lashed down to keep it from moving by lengths of rope connected to metal rings bolted into the sidewall and floor. I manage to put two and two together and liken the rings to what might be found in a police paddy wagon or the prison transport vehicles I''ve seen in various movies and T.V. shows. Inside the cage the tiny six inch fairies seem agitated. Fluttering about in a kaleidoscope of colors they dart to and fro like a flock of tropical parakeets hopped up on LSD. Their wings creating a buzzing that fills the back of the wagon and drowns out the conversation between Alec, Raven and Kryst sitting only a couple metres away. I watch with interest as a few of the diminutive fairytale creatures move over to the flowers and reach into them with their tiny hands, scooping up balls of dew drop like nectar which they suck up greedily. During my observation I notice one of the fairies alone at the bottom of the cage, away from the others. Where most flit and spin about in the air or clamber climb erratically along the cage walls this one is moving more slowly. It doesn''t take wing but I see that it is not for a lack of trying. Hopping around, its wings beat futilely. Was it injured in its capture or while it was caged? I don''t see any obvious damage to its wings but it does look a little different compared with the others. It''s skin is a shade paler and the gossamer of its wings dull, lacking the shiny iridescence the rest of the fairies share. Now that I''m paying more attention to it I notice that the others fairies seem to be avoiding her. Shying away when they get too close. A pretty glittering fairy, one with an orange and black coloration that reminds me of a monarch butterfly, lands at the bottom of the cage near a flower and begins feeding. The little one with the washed out hues moves closer. Reaching for her more regal looking relative. The monarch whirls suddenly. Lashing out with fists and feet, it strikes the dull one before launching into the air with a tiny screech. The other fairy, knocked back from the attack, retreats. Scuttling to the edge of the cage where it wraps its tiny arms around its legs and begins to rock back and forth. Comforting itself in a very in human like way. The scene tugs squeezes my heart in a vice like grip and I glance about for the monarch fairy to¡­ I don''t know? Chastise it? Perception: Fail! I lose track of it when it zips to the top of the cage but then spot it again. Or, I think I do as I also notice another fairy that looks to be the spitting image of it. Then another, and yet another. Each one so similar to the one before that I quickly realise that it is nearly impossible to pick one fairy apart in the flurry of activity in the cage. With a sigh I look back to the fairy sitting all alone wondering if I should point the weakened fairy to the Raven. Something causes me to pause. A nagging at the back of my mind. If these little fairies were thought of like livestock or even batteries, and this one was sick, what would be done with her? Would the little creature be looked after and nursed back to health? Or, would they simply get rid of it? Sell it off to someone like Crod to get eaten. The thought turns my stomach. Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on. "Hey, Cinni?" I lower my voice to a whisper and lean forward. Her ears orient in my direction a moment before her head turns. "Don''t make it obvious but, do you see that fairy there at the bottom of the cage? I think that it may be sick or hurt." I indicate the sad looking fairy with a quick point of a finger. "Or maybe the others just don''t like her. Whatever the case I don''t want anything to happen to her." Cinnamons opens her mouth to speak but I put a finger to my lips. Sitting this close to the cage she would have to raise her voice over the din of the bee like buzz for me to hear and at that point so would everyone else in the wagon. She looks at me with a little pout. Clearly picking up that I am trying to keep it secret from the others she gives me a shrug. "In your herbalism stuff, do you have any sort of supplies that¡­" A light bulb goes off in my head. "Wait. I think I might have something. Cover me ''kay?" I whisper. Cinnamon gets a nervous look and glances to the end of the wagon. Her eyes settle on Raven and they narrow slightly. She turns back to me and gives a quick nod. If it wasn''t for the buzzing I''m pretty positive that I''d have heard her give me one of those firm determination humfph grunts that are so popular in anime. Caught in the moment I return the look, nod and even the grunt then dive into my adventurers backpack. I mentally picture what I want then, expending a use from the pack, pull free a thick glass container about the size of a mayonnaise jar complete with a top perforated with teensy circular holes. Adventurer¡¯s Backpack: Mundane: This item can be used to pull forth 5 mundane pieces of adventuring gear. The items retrieved cannot have a value of more than 5 gold. Once an item is called forth from the pack it remains. Contents: 50ft Hemp Rope, Grappling Hook, Handsaw, (Travel) Tinker''s Toolkit, Specimen Jar. Uses Remaining: x3 Stashing the jar at my side I remove the top for the jar I get everything ready. This had to be done quick and quiet. Feigning interest of the cage and its occupants I pluck a few of the flowers drop them into the jar first. Testing the movement and distance in a few trial runs and getting some food for the fairy in the process and my timing down Sleight of Hand: Success! Leaning forward I slide my recently purchased boot knife from its sheath. With a nod to Cinnamon make my move. With deft agility I slip the blade through the wooden bars and slice downward, cleanly cutting through the, stronger than I expected, bars and making a break wide enough to push my hand through. Stealth + Environmental Bonus vs Kryst Thunderfist: Success! Stealth + Environmental Bonus vs Captain Raven: Success! Stealth + Environmental Bonus vs Corporal Alec: Success! Stealth + Environmental Bonus vs Guardsman Damir: Success! Stealth + Environmental Bonus vs Ellian: Success! The fairies fly around frantically as I slip my hand into the cage and their buzzing gets even louder. The small fairy doesn''t seem to notice me sneaking up on it and I keep my hand as close to the bottom of the cage a possible. Stealth vs Fairy: Fail! I''m an inch away from scooping it into my grasp when it lets out a little screech and attempts to fly away. Colliding with a few of its sisters. Who turn on it at once. Battering the poor thing and sending it to the floor of the cage again. Whip fast I cover the fairy with my hand, defending her from the attacks. The difference between these smaller fairies and Kryst once more becomes glaringly obvious as they ineffectually smack at my hand for a moment before retreating away from my fingers. As gently as possible I scoop up the tiny fairy. Holding her firmly. She struggles in my palm and I slip my hand out of the cage then secure her in the jar. Damnit! I suck my teeth. The little scuffle only took a moment but I completely expect to turn and see everyone staring at me. However, it seems that no one''s the wiser. Most definitely due to Cinnamon. My bunny beauty has taken her cloak off and is waving it slightly, brushing away a few leaves that have caught on the folds of the material. Creating a sort of makeshift curtain in the centre of the wagon between me and the others. Some of the other fairies, like a bunch of curious cats, have moved forward towards the broken cage bars. Wasting no more time I reach down and they quickly withdraw. Flitting away as I grip the damaged areas in my hand. Mend cast on Cage: Mana cost 2 Brian Status: HP: 12/ 12 ?? Stun: 22 / 22 ??Mana: 3 / 10 Vines and broken wood twist in my palm, then warp and bind together. A moment later when I pull my fingers away the cage looks as if the damage had never been done. Slipping the jar with the fairy into my backpack and away from any possible prying eyes I pad the sides with some of my spare clothes. When I close the pack up and lean back Cinnamon gives me her closed eye coo smile at a job well done. "Hey?" Kryst''s voice blares into my ear like a megaphone, "What''s going on back here?" Chapter 41: Fairies Tale "Cripes!" I flinch in surprise from both the ringing shout in my ear and Krysts erratic movements as she spins under my arm. "Are you trying to give me a heart attack?" "Gotta keep you on your toes, Too Tall." Way too pleased with herself, Kryst hovers in front of my face. Grinning at my discomfort. "Why are you back here? They had enough of your salt already?" I wave my hand toward Raven and Alec still engrossed in conversation at the end of the wagon. There''s agitation in my voice. More than I mean anyway, and I realize I''m overcompensating with defensiveness. I''m still not one hundred percent sure Kryst didn''t just catch me and Cinnamon with what I''d thought had been our fairly slick theft of the fairy. Or was it kidnapping? That''s a uncomfortable thought. Rescue? Oh, I know! Liberation! I like the sound of that best. Kryst lads on my shoulder so she can talk without needing to raise her voice. "I think that guard guy, Alec, is trying trying to smooze on Raves." She gives a little shrug. "Figured I''d give him a few to fly or flop." "He is?" I glance over. Insight vs Alec: Fail! Alec is all smiles and is leaning over into Ravens personal space a tad as they chat but that is most likely to not have to talk too loudly to be heard over the fairy buzzing. Kryst is getting a total misread. It''s pretty obvious that the guy is just being friendly. "I dunno. I think you are off base on that one." I lean my head toward the fairy on my shoulder. "Men and women can just be just friends you know." "Who''s been filling your head with those lies." Kryst taps me on my temple. I suck my teeth. "Here. This is for you." I pluck a coin out of my pouch and hold it up to Kryst. "Huh? Why?" Kryst looks at the coin and I''m pleased by the confusion on her face. "Figured you could use it to buy a clue." I shoot her a smarmy smile, which Kryst immediately wipes off my face by snatching the nickel sized coin from my fingers. It''s only then that I realise it is one of my few remaining gold pieces. "Hey! Gimme that back." "I don''t think so." Wrapping the coin into the silk sash at her waist Kryst secures it tightly against her hip. "If I don''t discipline you then how do you expect to ever learn. In actuality, I should charge you for that lesson too." Kryst taps her lips with a finger then shrugs. "Nah. It''s fine. Helping. It''s what I do." I give an incredulous glance to Cinnamon, looking for a little back up. By the way she is cutely giggling at us however, there will be none coming. It doesn''t bother me. In fact, knowing that Cinni enjoys the verbal sparring of Kryst and I as much as the fairy does, only puts a smile on my face. "Fine. Keep it you sneak. But don''t be expecting me to fork out my cash on you when you''ve now got coin of your own." I say. "When have I ever?" Kryst gives an overacted gasp of indignation and touches her chest. "You are a bitter man, Too Tall." She turns away from me in mock sorrow and shakes her head. "That''s enough outta you, woman." I make a move to poke her in the side but she slides around my hand and slips behind my head. With barely a flick of her wings she lands lightly on my opposite shoulder. Now closer to the cage of fairies, she pauses. "Quite the flock that Raves has here, huh?" Krysts voice raises to carry over the din of the overactive fairies. "They certainly are noisy, aren''t they?" Cinnamon says. Her ears are folded, one turned away completely. I see a grimace tug at the corner of her lips as the buzz gets even more intense for a moment. "Hey? Can you get them to chill?" I ask Kryst. "Chill?" Kryst scrunches her face. She glances over to Cinnamon and picks up on my meaning. "I guess I could try something." Kryst rail-slides down my arm to land on my bent knee like she is in a skate tricks video. The fairies seem to notice Kryst and they move closer to her in a mass, climbing over each other. Some returning the stare. Faster than the a crack of lightning the fairies cease their buzzing and the back of the wagon goes dead silent. "-- JUST EXPLODES IN YOUR MOUTH!" Alec yells. The guards eyes go wide with shock as we turn to him as one. The silence in the wagon and from some of the nearby pedestrians, grows even more deafening. If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement. "Uhh, I was just telling Captain Raven about a tavern down at the..." Alec stammers out a hasty explanation and his cheeks redden in embarrassment. "Really good food." "How did you do that, ey?" Raven asks me, ignoring Alecs discomfort. "Wasn''t me." I say a bit too loudly now that the buzzing is gone and my ears readjust. "This little spitfire is the one responsible." Leaning back I move my torso and arm so that Raven can see Kryst standing on my knee. "That you can blame Kryst for piece and quiet?" I grin, "Shocking I know." "Watch it." Kryst points up at me with a smirk. "Yes? But of course, I should have known, ey? My thanks to you, Kryst." Raven makes a rolling motion with her hand and dips her head in a sort of half bow from her seated position. "I was beginning to get the headache." The rest of the occupants of the wagon all nod and shoot off various words of gratitude. Kryst waves away the praise, but I notice her chest is puffed out more than normal. Cinnamon looks the most relieved. She sits back against the bench releasing a breathy sigh. "That better, Cinni-buns?" I feel like a total jerk for not noticing earlier just how uncomfortable, or even downright painful the short ride so far must have been for her. "So much." She says, "I guess those fairies must have been pretty angry, huh?" "Yeah." I nod. "Though you can''t really blame them for being agitated. I know I wouldn''t be too happy to be snatched up and shoved into a cage." "It''s not that¡­" Kryst voice trails off as she leans closer to the bars and continues to study the fairies. I don''t care what she said before or what excuses she made, watching the little human like creatures in the cage has me feeling queasy. What must this be like for her? Will they somehow tell Kryst about the fairy we just liberated? And if so how will she react? If the little fairy was sick or injured though who''d be better to ask than Kryst? That might be jumping to conclusions. Just because I am...was human, doesn''t mean I''d know what was wrong with a person who had mesothelioma, or something, just by looking at them. Whatever. It would have to wait until we were away from the others anyway. I don''t think Raven would take to kindly if she found out I''d taken one of them. Crap! Alec might even arrest me. Then again we did manage to somehow get out of any sort of prosecution with that whole... whatever it was, thing with the guard. Still, attempting to avoid further incidents a second... or was it third time? might be pushing our luck. I''m still a bit fuzzy how we got out of it in the first place. The wandering thoughts shake loose when from the corner of my eye I see that we have passed the gates and are headed toward the steps of the Silverstone Citadel again. "So, Kryst?" I ask, "Looking forward to checking out that tree?" I glance down and notice that Kryst hasn''t moved a muscle. She makes no move to respond. Her glare fixed onto the cage and the fairies inside. I catch Cinnamons attention and indicate Krysts odd behavior. Kryst shoulders tense. Her posture shifts. Muscles grow taunt along her back, arms and legs. Highlighting the definition like she is posing for one of those bodybuilding crossfit competitions. Cinni and I share a little look of concern. None of the others save for the two of us seem to notice. "Are you alright?" I reach out to tap Krysts shoulder and feel a icy chine race down my spine. My mouth instantly goes dry. Drow sense tingling. I freeze. Wild eyed. Kryst whirls around, magenta energy flowing from her hands and shoulders. Her body caught in the grip of fight or flight. If it came to it, I''d definitely prefer the latter. She is still standing on my leg after all and I have no doubt that she could snap my kneecap like a cookie. "Whoa." I keep my voice low and soothing. "Kryst? Let''s take it easy." I raise my hands slowly in a non-aggressive motion. Her eyes track me. Then, her head tosses from side to side like a wet dog drying itself.Quite literally shaking whatever has disturbed her off. Kryst stares up at Cinnamon and I. She glances down at her hands and, vacuum like, the steam like energy leaking off her body sucks back into her. Insight vs Kryst Thunderfist: Success! She is shook. When she meets our eyes again there is confusion there for what she could have... No. Was about to do. Kryst knows I saw it too. Like a deer in headlights her gaze swings between us. Her mouth opens and closes, wordlessly. She wants to beg our forgiveness. "B-Brian? I di--" "What was that?" I cut her off with a whisper. Apologies weren''t her style. I glance warily at the cage. Did they tell her about the other fairy? "Did they... say something to you?" Insight vs Kryst Thunderfist + Situational Bonus: Success! Kryst locks eyes with me and holds me in them for a moment. She finally turns and glances over her shoulder over at the cage. "No." She says. Kryst steps back, as if to put a some more space between her and the fairies. I lower my hand toward my thigh and she immediately retreats onto it. "It was nothing like that. Like I told you last night they can''t speak but I can get feelings from them." Kryst says. The wagon comes to a stop with a creak of wood and clattering of hooves. "Fairies are drawn to damaged nature. They saw or... experienced something¡­ there." Kryst looks between Cinnamon and I then turns to look up at the tree rising behind the castle like building in front of us. "As much as they want to go to and help her¡­" She narrows her eyes at the massive Redtree, "they''re terrified that we''re taking them back." Chapter 42: Silverstone Citadel Sign-in Ellian practically leaps from the wagon before it comes to a complete stop. Clutching her leather satchel to her side she sets a hurried pace. Racing up the steps, waving for us to follow. "Welp, I suppose this is where we get off." I lift my hand to my shoulder and let Kryst step onto her usual perch. She still looks out of sorts as we begin to debus, stealing glances back toward the cage. With her disclosure of the fairy''s mental state, I''m even more interested in finding someplace where she, Cinni and I can speak privately. I too study them for a moment. Now that I''m aware, it''s hard to not see the fear written on their tiny faces as they regard the tree overhead. After swinging down from the wagon I offer a hand to Cinni. She takes it then hops down with a second nature casualness that has her barely bending a knee. "Once we have replenished the roost, if the offer still stands, I would you like to have you come by and look over the Phoenix for the maintenance you''d proposed." Captain Raven says. "Definitely." I grin, pleased I may get the chance to check out that airship of hers after all. "Excellent. While you look to the possible implementations to improve the efficiency of my ships mechtanics perhaps Kryst and I could continue with previous conversations, ey?" "Huh?" At the mention of her name Kryst snaps out of the staring contest she''s having with the cage at the back of the wagon. "Oh, yeah. Sure thing, Raves." "Won''t we see you at this gala ball thing?" I ask. "To tell you the truth, when I''d received the invitation upon making port I had no intention of attending. But, with you three going¡­" Ravens looks to Kryst and I and even turns to look at Cinnamon. I can still feel the tension between them as the sexy swashbuckler and my bunny babe lock eyes. "Perhaps it will not be as tedious as I''d first assumed, ey?" Raven gives me a smile that could melt ice. "Alright. Till tonight then." I reply. Alec shoots a weird glare in my direction and his posture changes ever so slightly. Insight vs Alec: Success! I get the distinct impression that he is just a bit agitated at me. Then, just as quickly, it''s gone and his casual smile returns. "You better get going. It looks like Ellian is about to start screaming curses and breathing fire." Alec lifts his head toward the top of the steps. True enough, the young woman is practically hopping back and forth on her heels as she waits for us. "Yeah, you are probably right." I reach over hoist my knapsack from the back of the wagon. Taking care not to jostle it, and consequently, the secret hidden fairy cargo inside." It was good meeting you, Alec man. "Same, Brian." He extends his fist and I give it a dap. Internally I give a wide grin, pondering if I may have started a trend. "Let Sully know the same. Hopefully, we can all hang sometime." "Hang?" Alec gives me a strange look. Doh! Damn my lack of verbal eloquence and reliance on slang. He probably thinks I''m talking about medieval bungee jumping from the Skydocks, or perhaps lynching people for giggles or some other craziness. "Hang out. Hit the town for some fun." I clarify. "Oh!" Alec bobs his head with a smile. "Certainly. Sounds good." "And Raves?" Kryst calls out. "Make sure you bring that flask of yours tonight. I don''t know what they will serve but to be safe I prefer to have a backup for a decent sip." "Ready?" Damir the wagon driver asks. He doesn''t wait for an answer. Instead, he flicks the reins and slowly starts to guide the wagon along the sidewalk, angling it toward the fountain-like roundabout. "I''ll see to it." Captain Raven laughs. "Mayhaps something with a bit more kick, ey? I believe I still have a bottle or two of Blackwater Brandy stashed away." Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website. "Never tried!" Kryst eyes widen in excitement. "You know what, nuisance? I think you might have a drinking problem." I tease as we walk alongside the wagon for a few steps. "Problem? Not at all." Kryst scoffs. "They go down real easy." Captain Raven gives Kryst a laugh. "I should warn you. Last time I partook of that particular spirit the night was wilder than riding a skyshark bareback through a hurricane." Captain Raven meets my gaze with a wickedly carnal, sparkly-eyed smile, "At least, that''s the comparison the lad I woke next too had for me." "HA!" Kryst cackles loudly, causing me to wince. She then annoyingly elbows me in the ear. "See? What''d I tell ya? Told ya she''s funny!" "So you did." I ignore the implication from Raven, glad to see Krysts boisterous, yet somehow endearing, behavior quickly returning to the norm. I give a wave as the wagon pulls further away and heads back toward the gate and the docks. As we turn I catch a soft suck of the teeth from Cinnamon. "I didn''t find it very funny." Cinnamon whisper mumbles. ********** We take the steps at a quickened pace. Which instead of calming Ellians impatience only seems to spurn it on. Taking note of our approach she lets out a sigh that I can see even from halfway up the steps. She spins on her heel, moves around one of the large pillars and disappears through the entranceway. Reaching the top, we follow suit, walking past the archway of the open cherry red, wooden double doors and into a large hall. The fantasy fanboy in me gives an internal squeal of delight at the sight of the polished marble floors, high domed ceilings and the various floor to ceiling tapestries set around the room. People walk in and out, some in groups, chatting as they move down the various hallways that branch off from the foyer like entrance. A couple of guards stand at the corners near the doors and a few more on a balcony above. Surveying the people that come and go. Ellian is exchanging words with a man seated behind a desk placed directly in front of us, between two sets of arching stairways that mirror each other on either side of the room. The setup reminds me of a sort of check-in or security station. Ellian turns to wave us over and another feature of the room grabs my attention. Behind the check-in desk, against the wall, almost to the height of the balcony walkway above, is a huge clock. Like many of the other machines I have observed since my arrival the entire contraption looks needlessly complex in an anime steampunk sort of way, yet oddly appealing in its design. It''s a true work of art. Ornately carved with vines and carved filigree it is styled in a similar manner to a grandfather clock from my world. However, what catches my attention the most, is the odd numbering on its face. It has only a single-arm, and instead of a twelve-hour count, it numbers from one to twenty-five, with each hour broken down into four smaller sized increments. There is another semi-circle of metal that looks to be indicating a block of time of about 7 am to 7 pm and it has small carvings of Suns along its edge to show the waxing and waning of the daylight. It''s odd also that I can make sense of the numbers. I know exactly what each means but instead of the traditional symbols I am used to they have an almost rune-like appearance. "You will need to sign in." Ellian indicates a large tome on the table in front of her and the man behind the desk slides an inkpot and quill toward us. She taps under a list of other names and I see a couple of lines have already filled in by Ellian. This too I have no problem reading. Mostly because it looks exactly like English, which I find a bit strange but I thank my lucky stars. I would hate to find out I was illiterate here. I note the blank section where Ellian wants us to sign has a few notes written on the side. The first is ''Lady Civata- Guest'' and the second are the symbols to indicate an arrival time of 14/2, which correlates to the current time on the clock which I guesstimate is around 2:30 pm. I step forward and do as instructed lifting the quill and without a second thought sign the page in a flourish. I''m taken aback by the nature of the strokes. My signature never was that nice looking. A bit too plain and simplistic but now it looks perfect. A confident hand with a smooth stylized line. I regard it for a moment recognizing the similarity to my old handwriting but now transformed. Much like how I could still see my human self hidden in my drow features. In my youth, back when I had delusions of having a career as an artist, I remember practicing my signature over and over. By no means great, I did have a touch of amateurish talent. Enough anyway to impress my stick figure drawing gaming buddies and even make me a few dollars from time to time. Therefore it had usually been me that had been called upon to sketch up character pictures, paint miniatures or doodle up hasty battle maps in the group. Unlocked: Free Background Skill: Artist x1 Free Background Skills Remaining Cinnamon is next and she signs with a small, conservatively dainty, ladylike script. Last is Kryst. After she gives a groan of disapproval bordering on disgust she flits down to land on the page and forgoes the use of the ink quill. Instead, a crackle of electric-like magenta energy ignites over her hand and she takes a knee and lightly scorch burns her name. I note that her signature bears an almost kanji like similarity. Kryst takes off with a buzz of her wing to alight onto my shoulder and the pages flip back in the miniature helicopter-like wake. While the desk jockey secures the inkpot and quill from toppling over I grab the book and hold it still. Perception: Success! Something on the previous page catches my eye. Under a similar ''purpose of visit'' to ours, that of seeing Lady Civata with an arrival time before noon is a name I recognize. Written in an oversized, infant-like messy script is the name CrOdRiCk. ********** Update! Im sorry for the delay. I just wanted you all to know that I have not forgotten the story. Besides normal work causing a bit of a delay I have been trying something a little different in the hopes that it will clear me past some of my writing woes. This is all a big learning curve for me and self doubt can, and does, hit me hard. However II''m trying to work ahead and get some of the future chapters and scenes done that are a bit clearer in my mind so they when I start posting again it will be with a more regularity.The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. Sincere apologies to my loyal readers who have been so patient but rest assured... Brian is not dead. Also I know this message is short but writing on my iPad, which I''m terrible at using properly. :p Chapter 43: Karabos Up staircases, down winding corridors filled with citizenry and governmental workers. Moving through one hallway after another our guide leads us onward to the guest accommodations. Finally we exit the building entirely to hastily cross a courtyard adorned with artfully positioned statues. Perhaps because we are closer to the base of the gargantuan tree trunk there are not nearly as many fallen leaves here as had been over the rest of the more outlying city districts. Still, walking along with burlap sacks and rakes, collecting leaves, are more of the groundskeepers that we''d spotted in the gardens and around the entrance to the Citadel. Midway across the yard, our feet crunching on the black chipped gravel of the decorative walkways, Ellian slows when she spies a group of men carrying some long tables into the yard and arranging them in a far corner. The break in her near manic stride gives me my first opportunity to sidle closer and engage in any sort of conversation with her since we departed from the sign-in desk. I clear my throat to grab her attention; catching her exhaled breath of irritation as a sign that she has indeed taken notice of me. "Ellian, I was just wondering, do you happen to know Crod?" "Crod? You mean Crodrick? The bridge troll?" Ellian pulls her gaze from the workers and glances over her shoulder with an inquisitive look. "Yes, I know him. Professionally at least. The Twinwater Bridge falls under our office''s purview so I often have dealings with him concerning the tax collection. Why do you ask? Did you have some sort of problem or complaint?" "No, nothing like that. He is a friend of ours is all. Cinnamon and him go back a ways." I shake my head then motion with a thumb to Cinnamon a step or so behind. "You wouldn''t happen to know if he was around would you? Were hoping to catch up with him." Conversation vs Ellian: Success! "Keeping up with the comings and goings of the bridge troll is not actually part of my duties." Ellian rolls her eyes, and starts to pick up the pace. "I have enough to keep me busy as it is." She then wobbles her head from side to side and gives a shrug. "But he did come by the office earlier today." Knowing full well that he had done just that I throw in a bit of surprise into my voice before answering. "Oh he did?" Deception vs Ellian: Success! "We were looking to catch up with him. Crod didn''t happen to mention where he might be going after you had your meeting did he?" "I''m afraid our interaction was brief. He had stopped in to see Lady Civata but if you are trying to find him I''d assume he would be back at the bridge by now." "Is that right?" Now we were getting somewhere. I push on with my hopefully subtle inquiries as Ellian steers us toward yet another building. "The head lady herself, huh? I''m sorry I just assumed that a fella like Crod would meet with you or, I think Marshal Thomas mentioned another person who works closely with Lady Civata. What was his name? Morren?" "What''s that supposed to mean?" Ellian crinkles her brow. "It''s just that where I''m from upper class, political types like her tend to pawn of those sort of duties to their staff. I''d have thought she''d deem herself too..." I adopt a slightly mocking tone, "important to take meetings with a¡­ how do I put it? A rough around the edges type like Crod." "If it wasn''t already obvious that certainly shows that you are not from around here." Ellians steps slow then she stops and turns. "The duties of the council are extensive, but as hard as the rest of them work there isn''t a single member that can compare to the devotion Lady Civata has." She levels her eyes at me. Emboldened by my accusatory inference her mousy features harden. "Every day, every single day she is the first to arrive and the last to leave. Working long hours, day and night for the city." Ellian pushes out her bottom lip and her eyes narrow her words tinted with barely concealed vexation. "The council as a whole may share the praise for the economic boom we are enjoying, but let me tell you so that you can be properly educated. Most of it boils down to her tireless efforts and everyone knows it. So, I would appreciate if you didn''t cast any of your personal prejudicial judgments or disparaging remarks toward her character while in my presence, thank you." Cheeks flushed Ellian doesn''t wait for my response, instead she spins on a heel and starts off once more, her annoyance near palpable. "Careful you don''t trip, Too Tall." Kryst snickers in my ear. "I imagine it''s pretty hard to walk with a foot crammed in your gullet." I ignore Krysts jab and indeed, keep my mouth shut as we follow. Most likely not for the reasons that the others may think. My probing had done exactly as I''d intended. Shedding light on more useful information to mull over and potentially capitalize on. "Ellian! A word if you please." We all turn at the shout. Already irritate, Ellians eyes close and the teen lets out a low sigh. Striding across the courtyard a man beelines towards us, stepping around a group of workmen busying themselves with a set of wooden poles as they erect a canvas canopy to keep the lightly falling leaves off a large table. The approaching man has a thick chested build tucked into a tailored dark red tunic patterned with yellow embroidery. A fox fur fringed cloak puffed up around his shoulders. My initial thought is that he is sick. Splotchy jaundiced skin clings tight to a jutting muscled jaw but transitions to a faded greenish tinge around the sides of his neck and his larger than normal ears. Behind him a small gray Pomeranian dog races to keep up with his long stride, hopping about on all fours and transitioning to its hind legs. It''s amusing to see that it too is dressed in a tiny tunic and leggings of its own. I never really liked people who dressed up their pets. Alright, yeah. It could be cute on special occasions like Christmas and Halloween, and for short YouTube videos, but surely it can''t be fun for the critters. I know I can barely stand wearing certain clothes so I can''t imagine how uncomfortable it would be to be forced to wear some silly human cosplay over fur costume. Although, the pups owner definitely wasn''t human. Glancing him over I try to pull on my gamer background.What the heck was he? An orc? A bugbear? He could be either depending on the setting. Perhaps some new race entirely? As I''d learned so far the creatures and races here didn''t seem to be from any one particular rules system. At least, not one that I have been able to ascertain. And I was familiar with quite a few. Maybe my in-character knowledge could shed some light¡­ Knowledge Skill: Humanoid Races: Unowned ¡­but nothing comes to mind when I attempt to pull on it either. The same thing happened when I tried to get information about Crod when we first met him. I hadn''t even attempted with Kryst or Cinnamon. And I''d known about the goblins and Plogz before our meeting. Could be that I needed a skill. Something like ''Fantasy Races'' perhaps. Deduction: Success! Knowledge Skill: Humanoid Races -Available for purchase. Yeah that had to be it. I sigh internally. More points that I''d have to spend. "Councilman Karabos." Ellian plasters on what I can easily tell is a fake smile. "I''m afraid that I am very busy at the mo--" The man cuts off Ellian with a wave of a yellow skinned palm. The back of his hand and wrist fades to mottled light green. Wait! Karabos? This is the fella that Plogz mentioned earlier. "I was just informed that some fairies which had been sequestered for the Burrows were removed by your order and sent back to the Cragcliff docks. Would you mind telling me why? Correct me if you will, but that seems outside of your authority." "Ah. You see those fairies were ordered from the G.U. and--" "Should the G.U. have had some issue then they should have come to my office directly." Karabos huffs. "I don''t appreciate this sort of overstepping. As per proper protocol a council meeting--" "And," it was Ellians turn to cut off the Councilman mid-sentence, "credit payment for an airship captain in good standing had already been processed. I''m sorry there was no time for meetings. However, you should be getting some paperwork regarding the situation from either Mr. Morren or Lady Civata herself in short order." At that Karabos blinks. After a brief moment of contemplation, he lifts his chin and clears his throat. "I see." Karabos nods in understanding but doesn''t seem eager to lose face by letting the matter drop completely. "Very well. I understand that things can happen. However, I would appreciate if in the future, should some sort of similar situation arise, that the proper channels were followed. So as to not have these sot of incidents sprung upon my office at the last minute." "Of course, Councilman." Ellian concedes in a lulling tone designed to appease. His pride apparently soothed Karabos grins showing off polished, slightly elongated pointy teeth. "Might I ask, for which ship were the faeries bound?" "The Pyria Phoenix." "Oh? Captain Reigns ship?" The Councilman raises a eyebrow then reaches down and tugs on his tunic, absently smoothing a few wrinkles. "Well, I suppose that exceptions should, nay must be made." Next to Karabos the Pomeranian is still on its hind legs craning its head, as if listening to the conversation but more likely simply looking for attention. I had never had a dog growing up, though I would have dearly liked one. While Ellian and Karabos talk I take a knee and reach a hand out slowly toward its head. The furry face cocks in my direction. Mouth closed in that look of doggie confusion it stares at me with wide puppy dog eyes. "Brian!" Cinnamon gasps. Drow sense tingling! It''s only due to the duel warning that I pull my fingers back in time to prevent a bite from the tiny muzzle as it snaps in my direction. "What do you?! Were you going to pet me?!" The dog yips, exposing cute but very sharp teeth. "Whoa! You can talk?" I stammer. "I can do more than that, spooker!" The Pomeranian person snarls. "Porchata!" Karabos voice is harsh and chastising.If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. "Please. You will have to forgive my secretary." Karabos says, placing a firm tight grip on my shoulder, "Porchata, you know I do not like those sorts of racial epithets." The grin Karabos shoots at me however leaves me anything but convinced. "Might I assume that the gentleman has simply never encountered an Arfie in his travels?" "Arfie? Uhh No! No, I haven''t." I stammer still shocked by the talking dog. "My apologies¡­" I trail off before I can say, ''Sir.'' The Arfie sounded male but I''d already gotten myself in trouble with the small creature and didn''t want it to fly off on me cause I had incorrectly assumed its gender. Insight vs Porchata: Success! By the absolute fury written in its eyes it was barely keeping its rage in check. I can tell it wants me to grovel. All but prostrate myself in front of him for the audacity of my error. Even then I''m not positive that that would be enough for him to dismiss the slight. Paws clenched at his sides. The small growl budding in its tiny chest pulls a silent, twisting snarl onto its muzzle. From the corner of my shaded eyes I catch everyone staring at me. Ellian frowns. Karabos is wearing a fake politician smile as he studies my next move. Cinnamons eyes are wide with worry and, of course, Kryst has her typical ear to ear crap eating grin whenever confrontation comes calling. This would usually be when the old me would stumble all over myself with apologies. Meek and bashful, not wanting to rock the boat. The old me. A strange thought. I mean I am still the same person after all. Aren''t I? The dumpy dude who would smile and immediately squeak out a ''sorry'' when confronted by slightest aggression in his day-to-day. I catch my indigo colored hands in my peripheral vision and it snaps me back into my new reality. Is it my stats? Perhaps Presence or Wits? Or how about my newfound ''gunslinger swagger?'' Whatever it is, it stops me from rolling over onto my belly. That, and something else. Something the little fuzzball had said that sticks in my craw. The vast majority of the community here in Redtree seemed to be human. However there were many different races that I''d spotted while walking about in my short time in the city. Lepuri, Goblins, those Thundercat people? Katagat, I think Kryst called them. And of course whatever Karabos is. Dwarfs, Elves, a Gleam and even a Troll. Most hadn''t batted an eye at me. Or if they had it was due to my crazy high Allure stat, but, I definitely stick out. And though this world doesn''t seem to have the typical ''Drow are evil trope'' I can almost physically feel that races from Depthsfell are not a common sight here. Character Limitation Added Social Limitation: Shadowkin ¨C Occurs: Frequently. Effect: Minor: +10 Character Points - A member of a racial or cultural group that is somehow out of the norm for the surrounding society. "As your boss rightfully assumed, I''ve never encountered your people before." I relax my posture. Still kneeling I lean forward and meet the Arfies eyes directly. Not shying away from his penetrating glare. Knowing that the dark reflection in my shades will make it all the more unnerving for him. That same word that that guard and now this Pomeranian person had spat at me with disdain pops into my mind. ''Spooker.'' The obvious insult causes my jaw to clench and my ire to rise. "There was no disrespect intended," I harden my voice a bit, "on my part." Without backing down I attempt to shift the mood from outright hostility, pushing down my own anger. "Now with that said how about we put unfortunate business behind us, and move on. Without any further misunderstandings." Presence Attack vs Porchata: Success! Special Ability: Gunslinger Swagger: Lvl 1- Available for purchase. The Arfies narrowed eyes dart between Karabos and I. It¡¯s debating something in its mind, wrestling with an internal conflict of its own. The rage doesn''t dissipate, however, the canine creature bares its teeth in a strange looking smile. "No trouble at all. Please excuse me for my outburst I''m sure no offense was meant." It could simply be the pitched voice or the Arfies animal face but I''m not sure I completely trust the words. I tighten my gaze to see if I can get a better read¡­ Insight vs Porch-- ¡­when a heavy hand gives my shoulder a quick double clap, nearly knocking me off balance. "There now you see?" Karabos pipes. "How so many problems can be solved with a little conversation and levelheadedness." I rise and Karabos, once more grins. "Tell me my good fellow. The Drow that I''ve heard about. The one who has just today received certification in the Union. May I rightly surmise that is you? Brian Branchly?" "Brantly." I correct and absently raise my hand to show off the Union ring."Word certainly travels fast here." "Not so quickly as you may think. However, along with the guard, the G.U. does come under my department¡¯s duties." "Gracious. That sounds like a lot of responsibility." Cinnamon murmurs. "Indeed it is, young lady." Karabos tugs at his laced cuffed sleeve in a weirdly cocky show of self importance. "It''s quite fortunate that Union didn''t lose its newest member so soon after issuing you your credentials, Brian. I must say if you had been searching for a way to go down in history, that most assuredly would have been some sort of record for the scribes to document." He chuckles, "Shortest Union membership for a non-goblin ever. Or perhaps even goblin for that matter. I don''t think that would have been topped any time soon." "Yeah." I say, unsure how exactly I should take his grin. "Speaking of which. I don''t know if you heard, Ellian, but are you in fact aware of the accident with the lifters today?" Karabos doesn''t wait for Ellians answer and instead puffs out his chest. "This is exactly the sort of situation that I have been predicting. Instead of heading my warnings though everyone wished instead to bury their heads in the sand. The council, Mr. Plogz and the rest of union heads. As if I have no knowledge of mechtanics myself." Karabos lets out a grunt of displeasure. Perception: Success! On his right hand I spot a Goblin Union ring, worn on a knob knuckled thumb. So he was a member too. "How many times, Porchata?" He turns to regard the Arfie who is still giving me a doggie stink eye. "Repeatedly, and at great length, Sir." "Over and over!" Karabos reiterates, pointing at his furry secretary with a thick, ocher colored fingernail. "With this heavy increase in traffic over on the docks. More and more cargo arriving and departing daily, the lifters overladen with said freight. We should¡­ No the G.U. must improve on its maintenance schedules. Mark my words the accident like we had today is a direct result of said inaction. Seems I will once more have to put forth my proposals. Lets hope that the council and Union finally have the good sense institute them." Ellien¡¯s head bobs in a familiar fashion. That of an employee who wants nothing more than to walk away but is forced to engage in conversation with a boss talking at them, discussing matters that are way outside their pay grade and/or job description. I feel her pain, having been caught in the same situation more than once during my employment history. "It wasn''t an accident." I say in an attempt to ease Elliens discomfort by pulling away the Councilman attention. "It was sabotage." I correct. Karabos pauses in his spiel and fixes me with an icy stare "Ah yes. I believe that I had seen your recounting during my read through of the report. I''m sure you have your theories as to what may have happened but I think I will leave the investigation to the actual experts. Those who have been on the job maintaining Cragcliffs mechtanics for a bit longer than someone who''s had as much time to familiarize themselves with their workings as it would to pass wind." His snide remark rocks me back on a heel. I don''t even have time to open my mouth with a response. "No offense intended." He continues with a greasy smile. "So. What pray tell brings you to our steps? Just passing through, or..." The councilman''s eyes travel each of us. Kryst on my shoulder. Cinnamons bow and covered quiver. My own worn armor. He seems to linger at the sword and gun strapped to my hip. Ellian takes the opportunity to physically step back from the conversation. Her head turns to watch some of the laborers struggling to arrange a series of brass braziers around the courtyard. "Hey. You are placing those too close to the bar." She announces. "Are you sure?" One of them huffs. He motions to the workman carrying the other side of the brazier to stop. He immediately does so and they lower the decorative stone base to the ground and both of them commence wiping sweat from their foreheads. Ellian lets out a groan and with clipboard in hand stomps over to the pair. Rifling through the papers she comes to one sheaf in particular and start shaking her head poking her finger at what must obviously be the event layout map Animatedly indicating to other open areas and spots around the statues. "Looking for work, perhaps?" If Karabos is put off by Ellian suddenly walking away he exhibits no signs of it. "Might be that I could help with that. Have you ever worked as, or perhaps given thought to taking up a position as a guardsman? Our Citywatch is looking for recruits and there is plenty of potential for career growth for anyone willing to take advantage of the opportunity. If you are any good with that blade and iron they could certainly use more men who can handle themselves should trouble come calling." "Ah-hem." Kryst clears her throat and leans against the side of my head. Full of cocky attitude. Karabos takes in Kryst once more and seems to suddenly realize she is not a normal fairy. "Excuse me." He politely grins to Kryst and Cinnamon, but mostly Cinnamon, glancing again at the bow on her back. "Men and women who can handle themselves should trouble come calling." "Not really my style." Kryst answers turning a cold shoulder. The job offer gives me pause. What exactly was my plan? Right now I had cash in my pocket. Or I guess gold in my pouch would be more apt. How long would that last though? After it was gone, then what? This world was a dangerous place. Death defying situations could pop up at any moment. Cripes we were almost killed riding an elevator. There was a reason I didn''t seek out some high risk career in my real life. Now though, until I found a way back anyway, this world was my real life. It''s a sobering thought. Sitting around the game table the combat and peril was all exciting fun and laughs. Except for the emotional agony during exceptional role play sessions the pain my character felt wasn¡¯t real. An easy separation from fact and fiction. Was I really prepared to go out hunting monsters or spelunking through caves and dungeons searching for treasure? Now wasn''t the time for that level of contemplation. I literally shake the thoughts from my head. To which, I note by the look on his face, Karabos takes as a refusal of the offer. "I have to echo Kryst. I don''t think that any of us have interest in a guardsman''s job." I give a look to Cinnamon to reaffirm that my statement is true to which she responds with a small dip of her chin. "Adventurers then." Karabos nods as if he expected as much. "I may be able to point you in the right direction along those lines too. There is always a need for scouts and rangers for the forests. More than a few of the outlying villages around Redtree that can use able-body warriors as well. It''s can get rather dangerous the further one travels into the wild." "Yeah, we are familiar. We were attacked by and killed a Drayger on the way in to town." "Beasts and creatures more deadly than Drayger stalk the forests, my friend. Long-lost ruins, hidden caves in the hills. All manner of relics of ancient times can be stumbled upon out there. Most filled with unknown dangers." Karabos motions in a direction that I assume is to indicate the untamed land that surrounds the city. "Speaking of." Karabos stops and thinks for a moment, "Porchatta? Wasn''t there a report from Pinedale recently? An old temple or some such that they''d discovered." "That is correct, Councilman. When we first received the reports we''d sent word back that we couldn''t spare any guard to investigate. As of the last communication it seems that a few of the lumberjacks have gone missing since the discovery. Hence the delays on the Pinedale Ironwood orders. They''ve been asking for any aid we can give them." Weird. Was this pair some sort of quest givers? The delivery of information sounded like it could be an adventure hook. Deduction: Fail! Though I suppose they could just be discussing business. "There is also that uptick in Bandit activity along the trade roads." Karabos states. "Rather unsavory business. Used to simply be a bother for some of the towns. But reports coming in are saying that many of the smaller groups have been getting more organized. What was that name? The Black Horns?" Porchatta nods an affirmation. Alright, if the first one didn''t cinch it¡­ Deduction + Situational Bonus: Success! ¡­that definitely sounded like a sand-boxy adventure hook. "And to make matters worse many of the fishermen have been--" "Councilman Karabos." Ellian strides back over and steps between us putting a halt to the conversation. "Sorry to interrupt, but we really must be going. I need to see to accommodations for our guests and then put out a few fires with tonight banquet. I''m sure you understand." "Quite right." Karabos puffs out his cheeks and lets out a breathy exhale. "I had best head off also." "Brian." He extends a hand. I take it and he shakes it firmly. In a standard test of male dominance he exerts a bit more pressure than what seems necessary. Squeezing my hand in a strong calloused grip. The old me would''ve most likely winced and said something stupid like ''good grip you got there'' or turned to the others with a ''could use this guy around when I have a stuck jar.'' Bolstering his alpha status to my beta. For a split second I almost do and the thought sickens me on an near primal level. The words in my brain feel like ground up glass.Was I really that much of a wuss? Maybe it''s my ''in character'' persona acting on instinct that takes the lead but I don''t back down this time either. Faceoff! (Casual) Casual Strength vs Karabos: Tie! Casual Presence vs Karabos: Success! He breaks eye contact first and releases the grip. In my mind I celebrate with a small fist pump of victory. "Ladies." Karabos tips his head and gives that sharp toothy grin. "Until this evening. Come along now, Porchatta. Much to do before the festivities." The small Arfie lingers for a moment as Karaboss starts to walk off. He squints at me, and his tiny tongue licks the corner of his muzzle before he turns to follow. We need to quick step after Ellian who has already reached the other side of the courtyard and the entrance to another white stone building. She waits for a moment for us to catch up then pulls the door open forcefully and steps across the threshold. Inside we find ourselves in a small foyer area with a couple plush couches, a desk with a nervous looking woman seated behind it and a single other occupant who is pacing back and forth. He is a rather stately looking gentleman and is wearing a well tailored medium length blue jacket; its golden buttons polished to such a sheen they seem to glow in the sunlight streaming through the large picture windows. Hands clasped behind his back, his sharp creased charcoal grey trousers practically cut the air as he struts. Taking notice the man spins on a heel and I see that even his calf high black boots have a mirror like buff on the tips. His black hair and matching goatee are both well trimmed and expertly coiffed. Highlighting sharp, handsome features. He passes an appraising eye over each of us then settles a piercing gaze onto our guide. The nervous woman at the desk looks at us and immediately smiles. Releasing an exhale she seems to visibly relax with our entrance. In contrast, however, Ellians back stiffens. Chapter 44: Room with a View "Ellian? What are you doing here? You should be at the hall overseeing the banquet preparations." He looks our strange group over once more, craning his neck ever so slightly to peer past us at the closing door. His brow crinkles. "These are Lady Civatas guests, correct? I''d been informed that Marshal Thomas was escorting them." "Yes, I believe he had been." Ellian clears her throat and nods. "As I understand it he had to return to Cragcliff and so handed the duty to one of his Corporals." Insight vs Morren: Success! Morrens left eye twitches and I catch a barely perceptible flash of displeasure on his face along with a suck of his teeth. "But..." Ellian stammers a little as she continues, "There was an issue with the returning of the fairies to airship Captain Reigns and... I have seen to it. Everything has now all been sorted out, however doing so has put me behind schedule. I can fill you in later, Mr. Morren, but like you said, I really need to get over to the hall." "Go." Morren lets out a quiet sigh and waves his hand in dismissal."I will see to them." "Thank you, Mr. Morren." Ellian turns and gives us all a smile that looks truly genuine, most likely due to her elation of finally being rid of us. "I hope that you enjoy your stay." "You too!" I say quickly. I realize my weird farewell a fraction of a second after Ellian has slipped back through the door we had entered. In an attempt to cover my blunder I turn to the new guy. "So, Mr. Morren? I''m Brian. This is Cinnamon and Kryst." I beam him a friendly smile, "I do believe that I heard your name in passing earlier. You work with Ellian and Lady Civata, right?" "Correct." He states flatly. A long uncomfortable pause draws out then he turns and holds out a hand to the woman at the desk. Taken aback she pauses, fumbles for a moment, then hastily locates a pair of keys from somewhere behind the desk and hands them over to him. I catch her eye and shoot her a quick reassuring smile, which gets me both one in return and a tint of blush on her cheeks. Man, I love being gorgeous! "If you could walk this way, I will show you to your accommodations." Morren says curtly and indicates for us to follow. "I don''t think I can." Kryst says. "Unless of course you have a spare staff I could ram up my tail end too." The woman at the desk lets out a small squeak of alarm at Krysts flippant attitude towards someone who was an obvious authority figure. At least for her. Morren makes no comment, though his left eye does give a little twitch as he regards Kryst for a brief moment before he turns and leads the way down a corridor. Leaving the foyer, and the wide eyed receptionist behind, we are ushered down a hall, up a flight of stairs and past a series of closed doors that reminds me of a hotel hallway. Morren stops before one midway down the corridor, unlocks it and holds the door open. Waiting until we enter before he steps in and closes it behind us. I''m a little let down when I enter. It''s not that the room isn''t nice, quite the contrary, compared to the small inn room Cinnamon, Kryst and I had shared last night it''s amazing. I¡¯m not sure what I was expecting but I suppose I¡¯d simply been hoping for something a bit more fantastical and less like a moderately high-end hotel suite. The room is spacious with hardwood floors, decorative lamps with uncovered softly glowing luminous crystals and a few tastefully placed land and seascape paintings. The walls look to be constructed of the same stone as the rest of the Citadel. White with veins of a silvery hue that gives it that a marble like appearance. Directly opposite the doorway the wall is dominated by a large window with amber yellow curtains pulled back and tied on either side. We are high enough that we overlook a lower rooftop section of the Silverstone Citadel giving us a lovely panoramic of the city beyond. The distant falling leaves dimming what I guess would ordinarily be a much more impressive view. In the corners of the room, potted plants with purple and yellow flowers add not only a splash of color but a pleasant, rather refreshing scent to the air. Taking up most of the rest of the room is a sitting area. There is a table with a bowl of fresh fruit and four wooden chairs tucked neatly underneath. A couple of plump overstuffed couches, with striped pillows that match the curtains, are placed around a beautiful, brown and tan animal hide rug. I¡¯m unfamiliar with the creature it¡¯s from but based on the size and pattern I can only guess its some weird breed of zebra bear. "There are two bedrooms." Morren moves over to a short hallway at the far side of the room and indicates a couple of doorways. Taking the cue we peek inside. A carved standing wardrobe is located in one corner of the room and a chest made from a similarly dark wood and design sits at the foot of the bed. Cinnamon lets outs a soft coo at the sight of the large bed, puffy blankets and smooth, silk sheets. The kid in me immediately wants to dash into the room and take a flying leap onto it to see if it''s as soft as it looks. Naturally I refrain, but the twinkle in Cinnamons eyes has me thinking she may be picturing the same thing. "This one''s mine." Using the collar of my shirt as a handle Kryst leans over at a near horizontal angle and points at the room with a window and slightly larger bed than the first. "You can''t call dibs on a whole room, Kryst. And get your butt out of my face." I chide, though I make no move to ignore the absolutely spectacular view. "What''s a dib?" Cinnamon pipes up, poking her head into the room to see. "It''s like... laying a claim before somebody else can." I say. "You know? You see something that you''d like but it''s also something that some of your friends might want too. Well, you shout dibs." I waver as both Cinnamon and Kryst give me a strange look. ¡°Umm... What''s a good example? Like, ''Dibs on the last slice of pizza''." Their looks of incomprehension don''t change and the realization that they have no clue what a pizza is hits me like a painful kick in the kidney. You poor, poor girls. My heart bleeds for the both of you. If I self control to not hop up onto the bed to make a fool of myself was difficult it¡¯s nothing compared to the Hal Jordan Green Lantern willpower it takes for me to not demand Morren immediately escort us to the nearest kitchen so that I can treat the ladies to the cheesy tomato goodness of the greatest breakthrough in the history of Italian cuisine. That necessity though will simply have to wait. For now. "Dibs on the last carrot stick." I correct. With that, Cinnamons eyes brighten with understanding and she gives me a beaming smile. "Oh? I like that! Catching on just as swiftly, Kryst grins, then bellows into my ear. "DIBS ON THIS ROOM!" "Ow! What the hell is wrong with you?" I flinch my head away from the smiling, bullhorn loud barbie. "And I just told you you can''t do that!" "Why not?!" Kryst screeches. "Uhhh... cause you''re the size of my foot! Which I will put up your backside if you don''t stop shouting into my ear hole." "Tisk. Don''t be a heightest, Too Tall." Kyrst ignores the threat and lowers her voice to a more normal speaking volume. "Just because you have a bit of stature on me doesn''t mean you get to disregard the rules that you yourself put forward. Did I or did I not observe your proper ''dibs'' custom for a just and rightful claim?" "It''s not actually a legitimate¡­ look!" Exasperated I squeeze the bridge of my nose. This was turning into the sneeze debate all over again. "I mean it won''t hold up in a court of law or anything. It''s just something that you say between friends. Besides! You don''t need some ginormous bed when a shoebox will do." I sneer. "I need room to stretch." Kryst shrugs. "Ahem." Morren puts and end to the exchange with a distinctly non-subtle clearing of his throat. "To be continued." I whisper to Kryst, who responds by blowing an especially wet and rude sounding raspberry. "There are chests for you to use for any items that you wish to be secured. You will find a lock and key inside of each." Morren steps into one of the bedrooms, opens the chest and lifts out a padlock styled lock and key which he then places back inside. He then turns and indicates the wardrobe in the corner. "For this evening''s festivities a selection of more appropriate clothing has already been placed into the wardrobes for you to choose from." Morren indicates the standing wooden wardrobe in each room. "Unfortunately we do not have garments for guests of your stature, madam." He turns to address Kryst directly. "That, however, is being rectified as we speak and some apparel will be delivered to the room for you shortly." "Until that time." Exiting the bedroom Morren then steps to a third doorway at the end of the short hall and opens the door to a somewhat triangular shaped room from which wafts a subtle, clean minty scent. "The bath and privy."If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. Dominating most of the room, sunken into the tiled floor and already filled with water, is a polished abalone like seashell bathtub. Large enough that it could easily seat two, or perhaps three, if the occupants were feeling particularly friendly. At one end is a dial that looks strikingly similar to a miniature six spoked ship wheel, save that on three prongs, spaced equidistant from each other, are small inset stones. The stones, blue, red, and white, respectively, each have a small glowing rune carved into their surface and look low enough that they would sit under the surface of the water when the dial is turned. "The bath and sink has runestones for both hot and cold so that you can adjust for your desired temperature." Morren says indicating the red and blue stones. Cinnamon lets out another coo of delight and I unconsciously take a little sniff of my clothes. The battlefield bath from this morning had long worn off and the growing musky smell of the past few days of adventure, travel and combat stained into my clothing was becoming all the more apparent in our spotless, fresh scented surroundings. "The third is a purification runestone." Morrens astute eyes pass over me. He steps over to a seashell wall sink that is a sea shell match to the tub. "When you wish to clean the water simply turn to the white." Morren demonstrates his instructions by turning the dial located there so that the white stone is sitting under the water. "There is more water provided should you need it." He adds then points out a large earthenware pitcher filled with water sitting on the floor between the sink and a carved stone bench that runs the length of the shortest wall. Judging by the general design of the bench, with its closed lacquered wooden hatch in the center, I assume it is a toilet. On either side of the bench sit potted plants with large, soft looking heart shaped leaves and inch long bulbs that seem to be the source of the pleasant scent in the air. Morren does not explain any magical functions associated with these particular facilities and none of us go out of our way to press him for any details. I''m overcome with a strange feeling of comfort seeing a toilet. In truth I was looking forward to using it when nature once more came calling as it addressed a situation often never touched upon at the role playing game table. With good reason. During our trek through the forest I''d understandably had to relieve myself in the trees and bushes. Yesterday however, while working into the early hours of the morning at the inn, the ''gotta go'' urge had struck. It was then that I realized if it was one thing this world was definitely missing, it was commonplace indoor plumbing. Being forced to slip downstairs and into the cool night air to visit the communal, and therefore rather nasty, outhouse was not a particularly fond memory. At the time I hadn''t given it much thought, but now I do recall that the outhouse had also contained a similar potted plant. The difference being that it had been little more than a stripped bare twig. Curiosity getting the better of me I focus my attention upon the plants in front of me. Knowledge Skill: Flora and Fauna: Unowned Alternate allowable Skill check: Survival + General Knowledge Bonus: Success! Velvet Palm Widespread and prevalent, this broad leafed, fast growing and durable plant has collected a variety of colorful monikers. The Bathhouse Bush, Privy Plant, and Scrub Shrub to name but a few. When chewed the small, fibrous bulbs produce a minty taste that both refreshes the mouth and cleans the teeth and gums. The value of the soft and supple leaves, however, is one of a much more delicate and sanitary, cleaning duty. Duty?! In an effort to hide my grin and not burst out laughing from my mind''s eye analysis description I turn my back to everyone and step over to the sink. I''m such a child. The water feels cool and slightly effervescent as I dip my hands into it and give my them a quick scrub. Immediately it starts to take on a brown pink hue from the small bits of dried blood and travel dust I''d missed when I had wiped my hands clean earlier. Like magic, as apparently that''s exactly what it was, the water begins to lighten and within moments returns to its crystal clear clarity. Amazed I test it out further and turn the dial to the red stone. In moments it begins to warm as I continue to scrub free the last of the blood and grime. The magical display is nearly enough to dismiss any further juvenile thoughts concerning the ¡®Scrub Shrub.¡¯ With my childish mirth now in check I turn to regard Morren. "Thanks, Morren. This is all great. Please pass on our thanks to Lady Cicata will you?" I switch the dial back to purify and dry my hands with one of the soft cotton towels hanging on a conveniently placed rack on the wall. "Of course." He nods and turns stiffly leading us back to the sitting room where he places two room keys down on the table next to the bowl of fruit. "The gala shall begin at the 18th hour. Drinks to proceed in the northern courtyard, with food and entertainment to follow in Eternity Hall." He motions down the direction that we had arrived from. "Until that time, should you have any requests or requirements, more water, perhaps some light refreshments, you need simply inform the attendant at the desk and they will see to them. "Oh yeah, thats what we need." Magenta sparks fly as Kryst snaps her fingers. "Refreshments! Why don''t you let her know to rally us up some yum-yums on your way out." Morren''s gives Kryst an icy stare and his left eye twitches. "Very well. If that is all?" He looks between us, pausing, as if to wait for any further questions. Apparently satisfied there was nothing else Morren nods, opens the door and steps into the hall. "Then I will take my leave. We look forward to seeing you this evening." With a slight bow he turns and marches sharply away. "I don''t think he likes you much." I offer the fairy with a raised brow once the door is closed. "So what? I can''t stand puffed up, pompous types like that." Kryst sneers leaping from my shoulder to buzz over to the table where she sets to poking through the bowl of fruit. ¡°I mean that Hob guy was a bit of a tool too but at least his buddy Porchatta was frikkin funny. I dont think either of them liked you much, Too Tall.¡± ¡°Hob?¡± The light-bulb sparks to life in my brain. ¡°You mean a Hobgoblin? Karabos? Is that what he was?¡± ¡°You¡¯ve never run into a Hobgoblin before?¡± Cinnamon asks. ¡°Why is that weird?¡± My hand still on the closed door I glance back to Cinnamon and Kryst. ¡°For you? Not really. You do weird better than most.¡± Kryst gives me an haughty smirk. ¡°I mean, I wouldn''t say they are especially common.¡± ¡°Are they some sort of an offshoot of the species? Just a bigger, more evolved form goblin.¡± From my knowledge of RPG¡¯s I¡¯m more than familiar of course, but I¡¯d rather get the lowdown from the ladies to see if there is any difference between this world and my recollection from my various monster manuals. Kryst and Cinnamon share a uncomfortable glance. ¡°It¡¯s sometimes what happens when goblins breed with various other races. They are larger, stronger and tougher. You find more of them in the wild goblin tribes. They ones that aren''t as¡­¡± Cinnamon ears lower, ¡°civilized.¡± She doesn¡¯t have to paint any clearer of a picture. I hold up my hand and nod my head to express that I understand what she is implying. I¡¯ve read enough books regarding the lore for how half-orcs and sometimes even half-elves are created. The horrible and all to common ¡®spoils of war¡¯ mentality prevalent in fantasy games, stories and unfortunately the real life history of my world. ¡°They don¡¯t share the same cognitive cohesion as goblins. So being that they can think for themselves without needing some large group to stimulate their brain; coupled with their size and strength its not uncommon to find Hobs leading feral tribes.¡± Cinnamon, clearly nervous about the earlier dibs discussion drops her bags in the hallway near the doorways to, but not actually inside, either of the two bedrooms. ¡°Most are sterile or can only breed with other hobs. I have heard rumors of a community somewhere in the Brunderfell Mountains.¡± ¡°Yeah, I¡¯ve heard the same but take that with a hefty dose of doubtful.¡± Kryst says while absently sniffing at what seems to be a bright red pear. "Well hobgoblins aside, don''t you guys find this all it a bit odd?" I walk over to the table and lean on the back of one of the chairs and take a look around the room. "What do you mean?" Cinnamon asks walking over to join us at the table. "It''s just, Crod comes to the Citadel and visits Lady Civatas office, right? And then when we meet her she doesn''t even mention it? In fact she seemed like she had no knowledge of Cinnamon and us at all. Crod would have let her know that Midnight was Cinnamons relative. Don''t you think?" "Who''s to say what they talked about.¡± Kryst finally makes a decision and plucks what looks like a blue colored bean hanging from a stem in the fruit crowded bowl. ¡°He could have gone to see the guard then just stopped in to see Civata afterward. That Ellian girl did say that they have dealings with him on a fairly regular basis." "I suppose that is true." I wobble my head. "But does that really add up either? Think about it. I mean the guards knew about Cinnamons relationship when they sent that scriber message to Marshal Thomas. Your¡­ Pop-Pop is someone really important. That''s why we were being escorted to see Lady Civata in the first place." Both of the ladies look between each other and then at me. ¡°How about the fact that the guards were looking for you in particular." I point a pinkie toward the fairy. "That''s true." Kryst mumbles then takes a bite from the bean, smearing her lips with syrupy thick blue juice. "And what about the thing with the lifter and Karabos? I definitely get a bad feeling from that guy, so yeah, you hit the nail on the head with that one, Kryst. From what he was saying he has been pushing for some type of maintenance lately and seems to be on the outs with Civata and the council about it.¡± I look at Cinnamon. ¡°Then a lifter that you are on just happens to get sabotaged? Coincidence?¡± Concern creases Cinnamons brow and her tail gives a double twitch. "Do you think that the lifter accident was because of me? Because I''m related to Pop-Pop?" "Maybe?" I huff. "I dunno. It could be that was why we were targeted and then when the all of those guards got involved it was to risky for anyone to make another move." I suck my teeth. This was getting me nowhere. I was simply throwing out conjecture. Brainstorming out the plot with the rest of the PC¡¯s at the game table was fun but in the end always a huge time waster. Ninety nine times out of a hundred we would be completely wrong. Though, I have a strong suspicion that was usually because the various Gamemasters would change the narrative based on what was discussed in their presence. Something that I¡¯d always hated. Like they were somehow a bad storyteller if their players followed the clues and correctly worked everything out. I shake the memories of uncovering Milo the stableboy being the secret necromancer when all signs had clearly pointed to the Mayors estranged son. "Listen, Kryst, you''re pretty fast right?" I turn to the fairy on the table. We needed some sort of concrete evidence to go on. "Yeah..." Kryst narrows her eyes in suspicion. "Do me a favor? If you jet on back over to the bridge, Ellian said that Crod should be back there by now. Maybe you can just find out what happened. Who he talked to and what strings he pulled." Kryst sucks her teeth "I would really rather not." "C''mon. You could be there and back lickity split. I mean no one''s gonna futz with you if you are flying. And you have this Gleam marker sash thing on." I reach down and tug on the silky ribbon around her waist. "Don''t remind me." Kryst rolls her eyes. Running her fingers over the back of her head and through her short but stylish hair Kryst looks out over the city. Her eyes focused on the haze of falling leaves in the direction of the gates, the outlying fields and the river winding its way through the forest in the distance. "Is this really that important? How''s this for a counter offer? Now hear me out. We get some food and relax until the party. Then tonight, since you seem have a good knack for chatting with people, you can turn on that boy-toy charm of yours, get on that Lady Civatas good side, and simply pump her for information." Kryst wiggles her brows. I notice Cinnamons frown at the secondary innuendo of Krysts statement. I choose not to address it, or her blatant objectification of me as simply a piece of man candy. "Not saying that trying to find out more tonight isn''t a good idea, but I would rather have a bit more data to go on beforehand. In case two and two doesn''t add up to four." "Alright fine." Kryst lets out a long overly dramatic sigh. "I''ll waste my valuable relaxation time flying alllll the way out there and question the crusty stink smith. But I''m telling you now, Too Tall. You owe me." "Put it on my tab, Tink." I smirk. "Count on it." With a sparklie grin Kryst steps backward off the windowsill disappearing out of sight before zipping into the air and shooting toward the outskirts of town like a magenta hued tracer round. Chapter 45: Bedroom Antics ¡°Are you sure, Brian? I mean you won¡¯t think less of me if we do this, right?¡± Cinnamon glances at me with undisguised nervousness. ¡°If anything I¡¯ll respect you more, Cinni-baby.¡± With a gentle but firm hand, I take her fingers in mine and pull her into the bedroom. Guiding the beautiful bunny-girl over to the bed I smile and maneuver her to sit. With an adorable lowering of her ears, she follows my motions. Leaning back into the plush sheets she lets out a breathy coo of delight. Stepping around to the foot of the bed I place our backpacks and weapons onto the top of the chest. ¡°It is just, well I think Kryst is gonna be really upset. She did call dibs on this room after all.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it. If she really wants to contest us taking this room I¡¯ll hit her with either a ¡®finders keeper, losers weepers¡¯ or the ¡®you snooze you lose¡¯ clause.¡± With my hands on my belt, I go stiff and playfully fall over onto the bed making Cinnamon squeak in glee and scoot out of the way before I land on her. Caught in the indent impact of my body in the sheets she rolls over to lay next to me. All smiles at the antics. Both of us let out a few chuckles and sighs at the cloud-like hug of the puffy sheets as we take a moment to revel in a brief moment of euphoric relaxation. We lay quietly for a minute or two before Cinnamon breaks the silence. ¡°Kryst will be alright flying out to see Crod right?¡± Cinnamon asks sitting up onto a hip. ¡°She will be fine. She is fast and as long as she stays in the air I don¡¯t think she will run into any trouble. And I doubt there is much chance of her getting gobbled up by a Drayger between here and the bridge.¡± Cinnamon nods her agreement then bites her lip. ¡°Do you really think something nefarious is going on Brian?¡± ¡°I dunno.¡± I let out a breath, ¡°But if there is I¡¯d rather not have us all get caught with our pants down.¡± Cinnamon smiles and a pink blush tints the inside of her ears. ¡°Speaking of. How about we see what kind of clothes they packed in here for us?¡± I nudge Cinnamons leg with a knee. ¡°Oh, good idea!¡± Cinnamon nods her head briskly in delight. She rolls over me like an athlete, off of the bed and practically skips over to wardrobe. With a grin at her excitement I follow and peer over her shoulder as she pokes through the articles of clothing. ¡°This closet must be yours Cinni-buns.¡± I say looking over the ruffled silk, tassel adorned, and in some cases, feather decorating clothing. ¡°Don''t be silly, these are for men." She giggles pulling out a mustard yellow shirt with poofy sleeves and embroidery so fine it actually hurts my eyes when I stare at it. ¡°You are kidding right?¡± I give Cinnamon a look over the top of my shades. Even with my extremely limited real world wardrobe and style skill I knew that most of this stuff would look better on a clown. If we were going to meet a bunch of important people, an an even more intimidating thought, Cinnamons ¡®Pop-pop¡¯ tonight, I certainly didn¡¯t want to walk into the party looking like Goo-Goo the mutant jester. ¡°What? Much of this would be considered high fashion in Papanta. Here take a look. I think you would look good in this.¡± Cinnamon turns around and holds a shirt thats so sheer its nearly transparent against my chest, ¡°Well¡­ Maybe not this one.¡¯ She switches to another that looks to be made of turquoise lace and leans back to get a better look. Cinnamon pouts and her ears dip. ¡°Or this one either.¡± ¡°Thanks. Glad we agree on that at least.¡± Laughing I take the hangers from her hand and unceremonious shove the shirts back amongst their ugly brethren. There seems to be a distinct lack of dresses.¡°Well these do look to be more my size at least. I don''t see anything in here that would fit you. Maybe they put your stuff in the other room?¡±This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. "I think you''re right.¡± One of Cinnamon¡¯s ears dip as she continues to poke through the garments. She stops suddenly and her head bobbles.¡°I''ll take a look in there." With a quick spin on her heel she hop skips out the door and into the second bedroom. Judging by the gasps and cooing noises that follow it seems that I was correct. ¡°Yup. These must be for me!¡± She calls out with a smile I can hear. While Cinnamon busies herself ooh-ing and aha-ing over her clothing I take a more hands on look through my standing wardrobe. Flipping through the shirts, tunics and coats hanging neatly on wooden hangers. Many with all sorts of buttons, frills and danglie bits that I can¡¯t make heads or tails out of. The drawers are just as equally organized. Filled to near bursting with more pressed and folded pants and various other articles of clothing. Like most geeks I suppose, fashion had never been my strong suit. In no small part due to personal insecurities regarding my body. So, slipping into the comfort over style mindset had been easy. It was rather sad. Except for my regulation work clothes which consisted of collared single color shirts and pants; to match with the rest of my fellow work drones, my wardrobe back home had mostly consisted of jeans, sneakers and pop culture reference t-shirts. I did own two somewhat drab but passable dress outfits, and a pair of black dress shoes that only ever came out of the box for special occasions. They had been purchased for the rare wedding, funeral and of course the dreaded work function party must-attends. I am relieved to see that not everything looks like rejected costumes from a Broadway rendition of Kinky Boots meets the Pirates of Penzance when I come across a rather nice looking Victorian styled long black coat. Although, in all honesty it does resemble something more like a thematically designed, hollywood or even anime version of a pirate trench-coat than what would be expected of a more traditional era garb. I pull it out and place the cool coat onto the bed to keep it separate from the rest of the hideous attire. Just in case the garishness is contagious. Almost immediately another find jumps out as a possibility to go with the coat amongst the collection; a deep red shirt with polished onyx buttons. I reach for it but the sight of the blood spattered leather armor on my forearms gives me pause. "Hey Cinni-buns, you don''t mind if I go ahead and call dibs on the bathroom do you? I''d like to go in and get a good wash. I¡¯m feeling a little grimy." Carefully I pull out the shirt and lay it on top of the coat then start releasing the straps and buckles on my armor feeling the relief in the removal of the weight and the new range of motion. "Oh no, I don''t mind." She sounds a bit distracted most likely still enamored by the variety of clothing in the other bedroom. ¡°Thanks, sweetness. I¡¯ll try not to be too long. No promises, though.¡± Along with my smelly tunic I toss the various pieces of the studded leather into the corner near the full length mirror then grab my knapsack and gun belt from off of the top of the chest. Stepping into the hallway I glance back to the sitting room and the table with the fruit bowl. Curiosity getting the better of me I make a quick detour and pluck one of the weird beans Kryst had been munching on from a the long stem. A sweet bubblegum like flavor bursts from the skin and gooey interior as I crush it between my teeth. Pleased, I grabbed a couple more stems from the assortment along with one of the red pears ignoring more mundane apples and oranges. Cinnamon pops her head out of the doorway of the other bedroom as I reach the door to the bathroom, holding a bundle of dresses in her arms. She takes a long look over my naked torso and I see her bunny tail do its cute double twitch. "Brian?¡± She pauses licking her lips. ¡°I was thinking. Would you mind if I...?" Her ears pinken a bit and she glances at me and then into the room at the bathtub. By the nervousness in her posture I try and give a guess to what she is thinking. Insight vs Cinnamon: Critical Fail! I smile. She¡¯s obviously still feeling apprehensive about us claiming the bedroom from under Kryst nose and, seeing as the other room didn¡¯t have a full length mirror, wants to ask if it will be okay for her move her clothes in there and try them on while I¡¯m getting a bath. I decide to put her fears to rest. ¡°Tell you what, while I¡¯m getting cleaned up. Why don¡¯t you go ahead and take some of the clothes into our room and try them on. We have the mirror in there after all. That way you can really see how they look on you. While you¡¯re doing that I have a few things that I want to try and work on anyway.¡± I reach down into my knapsack and pull out my new Magitech kit and wave it in the air before replacing it in my bag. Cinnamon stares at me with a strange look that if I didn''t know better, borders on incredulity. Finally she gives a little sigh. ¡°Okay, sure. That sounds like fun.¡± For a moment I swear her voice has that same tinge of eye roll attitude to it as when she talks to Raven. Before I can get any more of a read though she¡¯s already disappeared back through the doorway and out of sight. A series of loud thumping follows as she opens and closes drawers and even what sounds like an annoyed slam of the wardrobe doors. I give a slight chuckle. Man. The clothes they gave her must be even more ugly than mine if she is getting that frustrated. Deduction: Fail! ************************ Chapter 46: Soaking it in Stepping down into the hot tub sized bath I grip the edge and slide lower, letting the warm water creep up my legs. When the heat kisses at my more sensitive regions I ''teabag'' the water for a bit, letting out a few gasps and teeth sucking whistles before I can take the pleasure-pain enough to lower my groin and sink past my hips and up to my waist. "Ooo¡­ OowoH¡­Ooh¡­ Aahhhhhh¡­" Muscles I didn''t realize were tensed relax as warmth seeps into them, releasing pent up knots and eliciting a near post-orgasmic wash of relaxation. Closing my eyes I lean back against the seashell-shaped bathtub and let the water rise up to my chest. I stay like that for a minute or so just de-stressing and I slip into Jelf trance. Managing to keep myself in the edge in the restful state of ¡®Elf meditation¡¯ and not pass all the way into ¡®Character Sheet¡¯ mode. I wanted to enjoy this for a bit and the time skip effect that going into my point spending level of unconsciousness granted, although useful in its own way, would completely ruin the experience. The minutes tick by, and too quickly, I force myself out of the cleared state of mind. Like they were waiting for my full cognizance to return my mind is immediately invaded with thoughts of my situation. Questions swirl around in my brain. Just what did I intend to do? What was the plan? Live out my life here in this fantasy game world? It was possible I suppose, but do I really want too? Did I even have a choice? I might not have the most amazing life but it was mine at the very least. I am not sure that the same can be said here. I was learning of course, with each passing interaction or encounter. Could I afford to keep bumbling my way through without any sort of direction? Danger was my new reality. Sure, there was the old adage of ''getting hit by a bus crossing the street.'' But at least I knew the rules of the road back in my world. It was ingrained second nature. I could take precautions. Use a crosswalk. Listen for the beep and wait for the light. Look both ways before crossing the street. Not run out into traffic like a lunatic! This was a whole different ballgame. I knew tabletop rules from all kinds of games, so many that they tended to blend with one another after a while. Did that really translate into real-world experience here? I suppose it does. To some degree at least. So in that, I guess, I have a leg up. More so than someone who has never played an RPG before anyway. There was so much I didn''t know though. Any little slip could be disastrous. There was no questioning of the Game Master to clarify or explain. I had to rely on nothing but my game knowledge and actual character skills. The fact that I didn''t know that Karabos was a Hobgoblin seemed like a minor inconvenience at the time, but really? It was a major hurdle. The situation with the Arfie, Porchatta might have been avoided if I had the proper skills. Which meant spending points. The accumulation of which seems rather arbitrary. What I can remember from my trance looking over of my character sheet, defeating monsters had garnered me some, but so had clever ideas and even the special conditions of fighting the Naga in the Crystal cave. The thought of the cave makes my brain switch gears. I lean my head back against the cool edge, staring up at the ceiling. The bathroom is bright. Crystals mounted in the lamp like sconces on the walls bathe the room in an almost office building florescent white glow. I suppose I could, or should, have lowered the covers on a few so I wouldn''t have to sit in the tub with my shades on like some rapper in a music video. But I had been more interested in¡­ using the facilities and then climbing into the tub. I''d removed a crystal from one of the lamps that were within arms reach while I was¡­ sitting. Without a comic book or smartphone to pass the time had elected to study it. Lumina Crystal (White): Mundane: These naturally formed crystals glow with a bright light and can be found in a variety of colors. An opaque cover placed over the crystal will block the emitted light. Pretty useful general knowledge. Personally, I didn''t really need light due to my drow Darksight but seeing as these crystals were classed as Mundane I rationalized that I could use my ''Bag of Assorted Crystals'' to pull out a few if I ever needed too. Grabbing a bag of them had proved to be a great idea, it had been crucial in constructing my shades after all. Did I get points from that too? And there is the gear shift which brings me back around to spending points and my character sheet again. With my mind back on track I consider what I need to do to prepare myself. I had already established that my Character Sheet''s mind''s eye breakdown responded to my will so I could try and focus on what specific information I wanted to see instead of sorting through the various ''pages'' of information. It had worked when I tried to spend points before so I don''t see any reason why it shouldn''t do the same. So first thing I''d need to know is how many points I''d accumulated. Next point. From what I recall I had managed to unlock a few skills besides the ones I''d purchased on my initial character creation. Had I unlocked any more today? Third. When sitting around the game table it was easy to tell what Stats, Skills, Powers, Abilities or Feats and so on that your character used most because the Game Master would be constantly asking you to make checks. A luxury that I don''t here. That could be a long list and could change a lot depending on the environment and general game too. Skills and Abilities used in a dungeon delve were usually much different than the ones used in a city-based game. So that was something to keep in mind. I sit up and splash some warm water onto my face. That was a good start and shouldn''t be too hard to summarize. After all, I don''t want to get too bogged down in the details. Make it fast. Slip in, get a quick read of the breakdown then out again. The last thing was some ideas I''d had for crafting. That sort of information that might be too much. Still, if I really worked it out in my head. Perhaps¡­? I glance over at my knapsack and holstered handgun. There were a bunch of uses for my new Magitech kit that I want to test out. As well as some more repairs on my piece of crap pistol. I had started working on the upgrade to try and get the misfire chance down so my initial thought was to work on that some more while I took a nice soak. First I should get everything ready. That way I could prioritize what I could and would be able to get accomplished. I''ll need a little workstation of sorts. My knapsack is within arms reach so I pull it over and poke inside. I find what I need. A bundle of cloth. The spare shirts and pants that I had purchased this morning. When I start to take out the clothes out, however, I feel something hard wrapped up inside of them. I suck my teeth and rub my eyes at my own epic level attention deficit. How could I be so dopey as to forget the fairy we stol-- liberated from the guard? I know that I''m being hard on myself. That my brain fart is simply because of the sheer volume of¡­ everything... that has been thrown at me all at once. The overwhelming pressure of having to acclimate to all of it in a short period of time. Still, it makes me give myself a swift mental kick in the ass. Character Limitation: Available for Acquisition Psychological Limitation: Absent Minded ¨C Occurs: Frequently. Effect: Moderate: +15 Character Points - Character is forgetful of, or confused by, anything not related to what they are working/focused on at the moment. After carefully removing the protective material of my new shirt from around the glass jar I peer inside. The fairy is hiding at the bottom, behind the once fresh and vibrant, now dried and wilted, flowers I had placed in there with her. "Hey it''s alright I won''t hurt you." I try to keep my voice barely above a whisper. Low and soothing. If she can understand me she makes no sign and tries to tuck even further behind the flowers. Trying to make herself even smaller. Her skin looks pale and sallow and my heart aches for the poor little thing. I''m not exactly sure what to do and so look around for something to help. Climbing out of the tub I pad over to the Velvet Palm plants in the corner. I poke through the leaves and bulbs until I find one that hasn''t fully unfurled yet. I pluck the leaf and dip it into the sink, filling the sort of natural container with pure clean water. With a deft hand I open the jar and slip in the leaf funnel full of water, along with another leaf or two and a few of the bean fruits. I then place it in the pot at the base of the plant. Tucking the jar behind some of the low hanging leaves to give the little creature some privacy and hopefully put it more at ease. I edge away slowly and slip back into the tub watching from the corner of my eye. The jar and is mostly obscured but after a minute or so I see her creep from where she was hiding. She cautiously sniffs at the water and then sticks her head into the leaf funnel to drink greedily. Once done she glances through the wall of glass at me then hurriedly snatches one of the beans, pulling it and a large leaf around and out of sight. Satisfied that I have at least managed to give her some food I return my attention to my bag. With my shirt spread out on the floor I pull out my travel Tinkers kit, my Magitech kit and the small bags filled with jewelry and crystals and finally the soap I had gotten from Sully. Even wrapped in wax paper the fragrance of the soap is delightful. The physical reminder of the conversation I''d shared with the friendly guards jogs my memory. As I look around the spacious tub I begin to wonder. As much as I would like to believe that it was just to get something nice for the girls I knew that deep down my male brain ulterior motive had always been a scenario in which we got soapy and sudsy together.The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement. Damn. I should have suggested that Cinnamon join me in the bath. How would I have gone about doing it? All cool and straight up? ''Yo Cinni, we can mess with the clothes later. Let''s go jump in the bath. There was always my usual go-to of the nice guy approach. I let out an audible harrumph of derision at the thought. Yeah, ''cause that had always worked so well. I shake my head. No. As awesome as the idea of both of us naked in a hot tub is I''m pretty positive that I had the correct read on her mood. And if television had taught me anything it was that for a woman clothes and shoe shopping eclipsed everything else. At this moment she was much more interested in trying on her new outfits than getting slippery with me. Unfortunately. Still, the earlier exchange between Cinnamon and I nags at me like an itch I can''t reach. It''s as if I''m missing something so completely obvious, like trying to remember a topic that has briefly slipped your mind in the middle of a conversation. A word or phrase that for some reason your brain just will not spit out the information for. It''s maddening! Perhaps if I move on to something else and not dwell on it. I roll the blocks of soap over in my hand, then unwrap them both. Each has that same glycerin look, one grape jello purple, the other ruby red with swirls of amber. Using one of the tools from my tinkers kit I carve off a couple of blocks from each and then cut the shaved off portions again. The smaller blocks, each about half the length and width of my thumb, I re-wrap in tiny squares of the torn-off strips of parchment wrapper until they look like miniature versions of the originals. The slightly larger cut-offs I put to the side then wrap the larger blocks and store them and the tiny soaps back in my pack. That done I take a sniff of each. Deciding on the purple lavender over the rose and lemon-scented red I dip the soap into the water. Rolling my fingers over the surface of the bar suds immediately dapple the water around my wrist as work up a lather and I start to scrub myself clean. I can''t help marvel at the smooth ripple of muscle along my chest, arms and stomach. My indigo skin looks even more striking with the shine of the water and I start to tighten and flex my muscles over and over. Brian Status: HP 12/ 12 Stun: 22 / 22 Mana: 5 / 10 The scent and warmth of the water seems to intensify, bringing a fresh wave of relaxation. I feel cleaner than I have in¡­ ever? I glance over at the wrapped blocks visible at the opening of my backpack and narrow my eyes in concentration. Rejuvenating Soap: Magical Item: Bathing with this slightly magical soap not only cleans but also restores a single point to a persons Manapool and increases their Allure Stat by 1d2 for 8 hours. A character may only gain this benefit once per 24 hours. Uses Remaining: x7 Huh. It''s some kind of minor magical item. I grin. That''s fantastic! I glance over at the other smaller blocks of soap that I had cut free and study them as well. Utilizing my skills in basic math it seems the original blocks had x10, to begin with, and I¡¯ve reduced each to x7, x2, and x1 ''Uses Remaining'' respectively. My sharp ears pick up a knock. Halting in both my Analyzing and bathing I listen intently. What sounds like the main door opens and a bit of muffled conversation between Cinnamon and someone else follows. A moment later the door closes and Cinnamon sweet voice calls out. "Brian some snacks have been delivered." There''s a small bit of hesitation, "Did you want some?" "No, Cinni. I''m fine." I answer without thinking. "Thanks anyway." "Okay, well..." There''s another long pause from beyond the bathroom door. Then a final, "Okay." Uhhh... Dick. Head. That was your in right there! I very nearly give myself a well-deserved slap in the back of the noggin. What the hell is wrong with you, man? Should I call out to her and say ''Yes? Can you bring me something?'' or will that just make me look like a completely indecisive idiot? Nerves getting the better of me time creeps on as I ponder and without realizing it I find that I''ve begun busying myself with the items that I''ve pulled out of my bag and laid on the floor. The new Magitech kit has a soft cloth inside of it as well and I place that alongside the shirt. I suppose I really should be doing this at a table, and away from water but I was trying to be as time-efficient as possible. With meticulous care, I arrange the jewelry, the broken Scriber and the in-progress parts for my hunk of junk handgun. I pull it free from the holster and strip it down as well. Adding it to the collection of pieces and parts. Sorting through my Magitech kit I look at the collection of clickers and contraptions. At first glance, they just look like junk. Bits and bobs that you would see slapped onto cheap cosplay costumes at a steampunk convention. I wait for it and less than a heartbeat later information seeps into my brain. It''s a pleasurable sensation when I access some bit of new instinctive knowledge for the first time. So there''s a smile on my face to go along with the rush of the direct download stream that comes with the unlocking of my character expertise. I wonder if this is what Neo felt like when he learned Kung-Fu? Scanning the contents of the tackle-box like interior of the polished wooden case I now know the names and uses of all the assorted springs, cogs, winders, dials, keys, bolt, screws and gears. What each oddly shaped tool is used for. How they can be assembled to tune or build the mechtanics of this world. I study the Magitech kit with my Analyze ability (Exceptional) Magitech Toolkit: +3 bonus to crafting based skill checks, [10 point Adjustable Gadget Pool] -These specialized tools are used to assist in the pursuit of a craft or trade. Magitech: Able to create and repair items with innate magical properties. I narrow my focus. Concentrating on the idea of the [10 point Adjustable Gadget Pool] [Adjustable Gadget Pool] A recoverable pool of Character Points which can be used to create powers linked by a common special effect [Gadget]. 10 Character Points. Requires: Applicable Craft Skill Check. Crafting Time: 1 Minute per Character Point. Sounds like it''s similar to my Adventurers Backpack, but without the limited number of uses. A game mechanic that will allow me to build gadgets or simple devices over and over. A low powered utility belt. Judging by the description I should be able to duplicate what I''d done with my shades. Picturing what I want I set to the task. Fingers working like they have a mind of their own I grab rounded semi circular washers and bend wire into various shapes around a short length of metal. Screws and bolts follow and after what I guess is only a few minutes of building I lean back to admire my handiwork. Inventor + Kit Bonus: Success! And suck my teeth in disappointment. At the edge of the tub, on my spread out shirt, sits a clunky contraption that looks more like a set of crazy road-ganger biker goggles from a Mad Max dystopia than my stylish shades. Instead of dark crystal lenses two rounded metal bowls, connected with wire, are positioned in such a way to sit over the eyes. Small rectangular slits in the center of each provide the wearer a small visor window to see through. Shielded Goggles: +5 pts Flash Defense: Sight - These goggles protect the wearer by reducing the duration or negating imposed conditions due to bright light or visual-based special effects or attacks. Gadget Item Cost: 3 points Gadget Pool Points Remaining: 7 points They look ugly, uncomfortable and very obvious as to their function. I take off my shades and put them to the side. My eyes sting a bit from the white light in the bathroom and with a sigh I up pick up the ugly goggles and slip them on. Immediately I feel less cool. A glance at the door puts my mind at ease. It''s still closed so at least Cinnamon won''t see how ridiculous I must look. "Still¡­" I rub my chin in thought. "They do work." The piercing brightness ebbs, the painful glare disappearing as I look through the small apertures. Sure they were nothing like what I was hoping for but I suppose in a pinch, they would do the job. I decided to look on the bright side. It took me only a few minutes to build these awful, but functional goggles compared to the hours it took to construct my badass shades. Not only that I could simply break these back down into their component parts, and regain the points I used to construct them in the first place. If you overlooked the overall uncool aesthetic it was crazy useful. That thought gives me another idea. Picking up a timing coil I attach a couple of round slide plates then sort through the various extra parts in the kit until I locate a tiny clicker arm. Steady as a rock I scrape out equidistant marks around the edge of the top disk. Holding everything in place it takes only another minute or so to tighten the screws. Everything is nearly complete so I wind then remove a small activator key, replacing it in my kit with the other tools. Now for the final step. There''s a small bottle in the kit, full of glowing mana infused oil. Using a dropper I drip some of the viscous liquid into the inner workings. Craft Skill: Clockwork: Unowned Alternate allowable Skill check: Magitech + Kit Bonus: Success! The sound of a steady tick starts. Counting in one-second increments. Pocket Clock: Time sense - With this device, a character can accurately gauge the passage of time. Gadget Item Cost: 2 points Gadget Pool Points Remaining: 5 points It''s about the size of a Fidget spinner and certainly no Rolex, but it works! I''m positive watch, or more likely clockmakers exist in this world. Those masters of the craft who sit hunched over desks with magnifying glasses and delicate tools. Moving and tweaking intricate minuscule gears and springs. Toiling for hours, days, perhaps even months, to build a device to accurately record the passage of time. I''d done it in two minutes by throwing a bunch of cogs and screws together, winding it up like one of those vintage tin toy cars and dribbling in a bit of magic juice. I let out a quiet laugh. It was also a hell of a lot of fun! I''m tempted to just sit in the tub making more gadgets and doodads, but I refrain. Even if I''ve learned a lot in the last fifteen minutes or so. Extremely useful information that should make what I was about to attempt a bit easier, I''d been distracted enough. Leaning back I spread my arms onto the edge of the tub. Once again, I close my eyes. Relaxing. Clearing my mind of external thoughts and narrowing my focus. The trickles of water across my skin turn to drips, falling from my biceps into the bath. The gentle plip plip sounds drift away. Muffled and distant. I know I can pull myself back to them in an instant but what I''m looking for is the dark void at the edge of my awareness. There. I locate it with ease and my consciousness speeds toward it. You are Resting. Chapter 47: Total Recall Holy crap! I boggle at the wall of information, There was so much to decipher. Even with focusing and not summoning up my full Character sheet I¡¯m nearly overwhelmed. The top is the first major bit of information. Available Character Points: 24 Wowza. More than I¡¯d thought. Much more. But I don¡¯t even waste time for a mental grin, instead, I keep scanning through as quickly as possible. Then something else jumps out at me in the Special Abilities Section. Perfect Recall - You have an amazing knack for details. When you have time to concentrate you are able to remember images and other sensations with near-photographic precision. (Time Limited Purchase: 21 hours remaining) Cost: 5 points The description and the time limit makes me pause for a second longer than I''d intended. The wheels in my brain spin so fast I swear I smell burning rubber. I spare a few more heartbeats to narrow my focus and Analyze the (Time Limited Purchase: 21 hours remaining) Time Limited Purchase: If the criteria are met certain Skills, Special Abilities, Powers or similar may be Unlocked. If the points are not spent the offer will expire. This may mean the offer is lost completely or the conditions for purchase will need to be met again at a later time. That was too good to pass up. I will the Character Point spend, punch out of the void and rocket back into the edge of trance, feeling the passage of time slow and resume like I¡¯ve just exited hyperspace. Everything around me is still and I allow myself to experience the meditative state for a moment. It really was quite calming. I hear a steady metronome-like tick tick tick of the clock on the edge of the tub to my left and the distant murmur of Cinnamon, perhaps talking to herself in the bedroom. You are no longer Resting. Looking to the clock I check how long it has been. Almost ten minutes? I chew on my lip in thought. There was so much to unpack, but that new skill might be just what I need. All I need to do of course was figure out how to use it. Breathe. In through the nose, out through the mouth. C¡¯mon Daniel-san, just like Mr. Miyagi taught you. Breathe in. Out. Concentrate and... You use Special Ability: Perfect Recall Times stops. Then races backward at the speed of thought until I''m staring at my Character sheet. I feel the smile creep across my face as I slowly move the sheet up and down like I¡¯m scrolling through a page on a phone or kindle. Everything was there, just like when I had been on the lifter and saw the accident. What a godsend. I play my memory carefully reading the lines over again. Now I could plan a bit instead of knee-jerk point spending due to lack of time and with my remaining 19 Character points I wanted to try and make the most out of it. 10 Commonly Used Skills Charm 14- ?????? ????????cost to raise: 2 pt General Skill: Conversation 8- ?????cost to purchase: 1 pt General Skill: Deception 8- ??????cost to purchase: 1 pt General Skill: Deduction 8- ??????cost to purchase: 1 pt Insight 12- ??????????????cost to raise: 2 pt Parkour 13-??????????????cost to raise: 2 pt Perception 14-???????????? cost to raise: 2 pt General Skill: Persuasion 8-??????cost to purchase: 1 pt Stealth 13- ?????????????? cost to raise: 2 pt General Skill: Trading 8- ?????????cost to purchase: 1 pt I suppose that I have been using more skills than I thought. Seeing those low 8- numbers are rather worrisome and I can¡¯t help but think that I may have flubbed a few interactions due to them. If we are going to be in a social situation perhaps I should look at raising some of them. Newly Acquired Skills: General Skills: General Skill: Climbing 8- ????cost to purchase: 1 pt General Skill: Conversation 8- ????cost to purchase: 1 pt General Skill: Deception 8- ????cost to purchase: 1 pt General Skill: Fishing 8- ?? ??cost to purchase: 1 pt General Skill: Performance 8- ????cost to purchase: 1 pt General Skill: Persuasion 8- ????cost to purchase: 1 pt I notice quite a few duplicated skills between the Newly Acquired and the Commonly Used. That cinches it. And I earmark 4 points to pick up Conversation, Deception, Deduction, and Persuasion. Trading makes me pause. That seems like a great skill to level up as well, I¡¯m sure that I used it in obtaining the Scriber and the Jewelry, which I noticed my plans for listed further down. If I have enough points its one I¡¯ll definitely come back around to. Available Knowledge Skills: Knowledge Skill: Humanoid Races ????cost to purchase: 2 pt I suck my teeth loudly. This one seemed like a must pick up as well. That¡¯s another 2 points. Continuing my scrolling I stop when I spy the next entry. Free Background Skills: Knowledge Skill: Monsters 13- > ????cost to raise: 2 ptThis book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience. Cooking 11- > ???? ????????cost to raise: 2 pt Artist 11- > ?????????????? cost to raise: 2 pt x1 Free Background Skills Remaining It seemed I was getting a few free things as I progressed. I did have some talent when it came to cooking and art. And I do recall seeing that I had a skill regarding monsters before too. It could be that is translated over from my gamer knowledge. What was odd to me, however, is that I could easily call on basics, like trolls being vulnerable to fire and acid for instance, but when I tried to get that info dump instinctive knowledge like I had done with the Naga to Crod I¡¯d gotten nothing. Perhaps I had simply failed the ¡®roll¡¯ in order to pull on the information pertaining to this world. General Skill: Deduction + Situational Bonus: Success! That had to be it. Also when I¡¯d thought about my old job at Big Joe¡¯s and then about my years filling notebooks with sketches of superheros I¡¯d gotten a bit of a rush too. At the time I figured it was just a bit of nostalgia, but it was much like the feeling of exhilaration when I access my character knowledge. The art and cooking skills must have been added to my character when had focused on skills that I had actually possessed in my old life I¡¯d have to be careful and see if I can hold onto that last Free Background Skill slot. I certainly don¡¯t want to waste it on something like Knowledge Skill: Movie Trivia. Free Innate Character Skills: Regional Knowledge: Despthfell 15- > ????cost to raise: 2 pt Free Native Character Languages: Native Language: Shadowspeak / Darktongue Native Language: Elvish Free Dialect: Drow x0 Free Native Languages Remaining Free Basic Languages Unlock CANCELED: Free Basic Language: Zantorish x2 Free Basic Languages Remaining It seems that I might not have to worry about wasting that slot after all, seeing as I somehow canceled a Free Basic Language. I do remember when I was talking to Raven and trying to place her sexy accent I¡¯d toyed with the idea of testing out some of my old high school Spanish. That had to be it. Special Abilities Available for Purchase: FlashBang Shot: lvl 1 ¨C (Action): Gunslinger may fire their weapon close to an opponent''s head imposing the blinded and deafened condition for a short time. Cost: 5 points Pistol Whip: lvl 1 ¨C (Re-Action): Gunslinger may use the butt of their weapon to make a melee attack. Cost: 5 points Gunslinger Swagger: lvl 1 ¨C (Passive): The Gunslinger has [+5 Presence] only for Faceoffs, Presence Attacks, or similar situations. Cost: 3 points Perfect Recall - You have a amazing knack for details. When you have time to concentrate you are able to remember images and other sensations with near-photographic precision. (Time Limited Purchase -21 hours remaining) Cost: 5 points Craftsman Abilities: Available for Purchase: Market Song: (Action): Through minor arcane manipulation the skills of Conversation, Persuasion, and Trading are increased for a short time. (Mana cost 2) Cost: 5 points Ice Maker: (Slow Action): Grants the ability to chill liquids down to freezing temperatures. Useful on hot days. (Mana cost 1) Cost: 4 points Clean Shop: (Slow Action): A spell often used at the end of the day to tidy up a workshop or place of business. (Mana cost 2) Cost: 4 points I rub my chin as contemplate the Special Abilities. There were a couple that I want to spend points on right away. Gunslingers Swagger mostly just because I like the idea if nothing else. I¡¯m not exactly sure how often it would come into play for me. FlashBang didn¡¯t seem that great at first glance, but it would give me another special effect beyond just trying to do physical damage which was always a plus in my book. Where I had dismissed them before the Craftsman Abilities I''m now seeing possible uses for. Market Song in particular looks to be a very good one, especially with me being in a city and because I had been using every one of those skills recently. Still, it was a large point sink especially if I buy both the skills and the Special Ability magical booster for them. I finally decide to allow myself a max of 5 points for a Special Ability. Which means I¡¯m down to 8 Points already. Give or take. Character Limitation: Added Social Limitation: Shadowkin ¨C Occurs: Frequently. Effect: Minor: A member of a racial or cultural group that is somehow out of the norm for the surrounding society.?? [+10 Character Points] Character Limitation: Available for Acquisition Psychological Limitation: Absent-Minded ¨C Occurs: Very Frequently. Effect: Moderate: - Character is forgetful of, or confused by, anything not related to what they are working/focused on at the moment.??[+20 Character Points] That explains where a big chunk of those 24 Character Points came from. I guess the interactions with people and me being a bit of an outcast, or at least not the norm around here has given me some kind of social stigma. It doesn¡¯t look to be that bad simply that I don¡¯t blend in with the crowd. Which I suppose could be problematic. Then there¡¯s the Absent-Minded Limitation. If I were to add that to my Character the 20 additional points that added would be a huge resource. I could increase my stats, purchase and upgrade skills even grab more Special Abilities. I wobble my head from side to side in contemplation. That I was ''Shadowkin'' had been referenced a few times today both in passing, casual conversation and as what was definitely racist bigotry. If that was Frequently and Minor I don''t think I want to see what Very Frequently and Moderate is. Especially when it comes to attention span and possible forgetfulness. No. I think I¡¯ll pass on mixing D&D with ADHD. I move onto the final text block. Lists of possible Crafted Items I could try and make. There are already a good dozen or so entries. Various small devices I had been percolating in the back of my mind ever since I made my shades. I look over the break down of a Pocket Watch. The Drayger pistol grips for my gun; taking note of the hour or so left that it will take to complete. Finally, I find the one particular entry I¡¯m looking for. Earring of Whispered Words: When worn these earrings can be touched allowing the wearer to send whispered messages to other linked earrings; as long as they are within the range of a quarter-mile. Required Materials: Scriber Parts / Resonance Crystal / Jewelry Required Craft Skill: Inventor (-12 Minimum) Required Craft Skill: Magitech (-13 Minimum) Crafting Time (each): 2 hrs / 2 hrs Remaining Modifier: (Exceptional) Magictech Toolkit: 25% reduction to crafting time. Crafting Time (each): 1.5 hrs / 1.5 hrs Remaining Bonded Item Character Point Cost: 5 pts Accessory Item Character Point Cost: 3 pts Duplicate - Automatic Accessory Item: Character Point Cost: 1 pts If ever there was a crucial, must-have item in-game, some sort of comm device to keep in contact with other party members was it. Normally it would be fairly easy to get an item that would fit the bill in a modern or Sci-fi game. A phone, radio, cybernetic implant, spy gadget any number of things really. It was almost commonplace. So much so that the GameMaster would have to go out of their way to specifically design scenarios where those kinds of communication were usable. Frequency jammers or high energy zone maguffins. Fantasy games, on the other hand, that''s when it got tricky. They would almost always be magical in some form or another. If it was a spell that usually meant only the magic users of the group could cast it. A magic item was better, but that generally meant shelling out lots of gold or being fortunate enough to somehow come across them in a dungeon. Ever since I¡¯d seen the Scriber''s I¡¯d had the idea to try and somehow use them to make something. And that was all he needed. An initial core idea, possible materials I could use and my crafting skills filled in the blanks. I study the breakdown once again. Interesting. It looks like I can purchase the initial item as a Bonded Item or Accessory Item and create duplicates at a much-reduced cost. The shaving of the 2 points for the Accessory, like my shades is once again a tempting offer but I earmark 5 points for the Bonded Item and another 2 for additional earrings. And with that, I am down to a single point left. I''m not sure how much time I have left before we have to attend this party. I might not have time to make all of them now but I wanted to get them built as soon as possible. I would like to make an extra just to have on hand, but that could always be done at a later time. Slipping into my Jelf state of trance and separating it from the deeper Character Sheet zone is getting easier and easier each time I do it. Within moments after closing my eyes I am back in the void and immediately will my point spends to my various preplanned allotments. I give myself a moment simply to look at my newly acquired skills and appreciate the jump from 8-. Newly Acquired Skills: Conversation 12- > ??????????cost to raise: 2 pt Deception 12- > ?????????? cost to raise: 2 pt Deduction 13- > ?????????? cost to raise: 2 pt Persuasion 12- > ??????????cost to raise: 2 pt Knowledge Skill: Humanoid Races 13- > ?? cost to raise: 2 pt I¡¯m just about to exit when a pop-up appears in my mind''s eye. With points now spent I focus on the notification and my attention to the real world comes back in a rush. Racial Ability: Lightsleep. You are no longer Resting. A glance to clock confirms only a minute or so is passed. I''m not sure if I''ll always be able to pull it off as quickly and efficiently as I¡¯ve just done but I¡¯m rather pleased with myself that I have managed to accomplish my point spending in a minimal amount of time. I''m a little confused as to what has caused my Lightsleep ability to trigger. Everything seemed normal. Had I heard voices? If I had they had been loud enough to break me out of my trance. Which probably ment shouting. I listen intently¡­ Perception: Fail! ¡­but I don''t hear anything. It''s quiet perhaps a little too quiet. Was there somebody in the other room? Holding my tongue I resist the urge to call out for Cinnamon. That¡¯s always what people did in the movies, thereby alerting potential attackers to their location. Crap. Maybe I should have left the door open. At least the crack just in case. I look to my knapsack and my gun belt that was resting across the top of it. My pistol was in pieces, and my sword was sitting comfortably in its scabbard back in the bedroom. However, I had buckled one of my very sharp daggers onto my gun belt. With slow movements, trying to be as quiet as possible, I slide closer to my knapsack, my belt just out of reach. Stealth vs ???: Success! I¡¯ve just begun to lift myself from water when the door slams open with a bang. Chapter 48: Getting dirty in the Bath With the door flung wide a naked Kryst bursts into the room. Skimming the floor at barely ankle height she drops down and slides along the wet tile like an extreme ice skater. At the edge of the tub she jumps into the air, front flip rolls with a loud "WAaaHOO!" and cannonballs into the center of the pool, sending a gout of water splashing into my face and side. I recognize the lack of danger in an instant and drop my gun belt. My dagger clatters onto the tile. Half out of the water I drop back down. Immediately my hands dive underwater in an attempt to cover my shame. Even with the embarrassing situation that I have found myself in I''m delighted that I can''t completely succeed at the task even using both hands. The fairy breaks the surface, cackling like a maniac and wiping water from her eyes. "Kryst! What are you doing!" Cinnamon calls from the hallway, a stress-filled pitch to her voice. "What''s it look like? I''m my getting scrub on." "I told you, Brian was getting a bath." "Yeah, but we got stuff to discuss and... What in the hells is that on your face, Too Ta -AhhH!" In my haste to snatch off the goofy bug-eyed goggles that I¡¯d completely forgotten, I¡¯m still wearing, my hands splash out of the water so quickly they send Kryst tumbling tits over tail and reward me with a sudden blinding white light. ¡°Oww, Stupid!¡± My eyes shut vice tight as I chastise my own carelessness. I fumble about on the edge of the tub, soaking my new shirt until I find my shades and slip them on blinking away the spots and stinging sensation. "Is everything all right?" Cinnamon calls out. Her ears peek around the edge of the door frame. "No!" Kryst glubs and sputters floundering back to the surface, "The dark-skinned dolt here''s trying to drown me!" Her head darts around searching until she spots Cinnamon''s ears twitching shyly around the door. "What are you doing hiding out there?" "I don''t, I mean..." I can practically hear the blush in Cinnamon''s voice. "Just strip and get your butt in already, I don''t need to be yelling my head off." I nearly open my dumb mouth to point out the sensitivity of Lepuri ears when Cinnamon''s gorgeous face appears. "Are you sure you don''t mind, Brian?" "Nah, of course, he doesn''t. Hurry up so we can have ourselves a three-way¡­" Kryst gives a long pause and leers at me with a teasing grin, "discussion." The already monumental task of hiding my regions gets even more difficult. "Umm, Alright," Cinnamon says. She pauses and I wonder if she is gonna suddenly turn and flee. Instead, she reaches over and plucks a towel from the rack near the door and disappears out of sight. "Why do you do that?¡± I whisper. ¡°It''s not nice to tease her. You know she''s shy." "It makes me happy. Besides, I''m not teasing her. I''m teasing you." I suck my teeth and glance out into the hall. The light from the bedroom tosses a shadow of Cinnamon against the wall. Gawddamn. I boggle holding my breath. Watching her shapely silhouette as she disrobes. "So, I did what you asked." Kryst says. "You talked with Crod? What did he say?" I tear my attention away from the erotic playboy bunny silhouette and back to the fairy doggie paddling around in a circle. "Nope. Reason being that he wasn''t at the bridge." Kryst bobs her chin then spits out a mouthful of water. "Carrots! Get your butt in here I don''t feel like repeating myself." "I''m coming, I''m coming." Cinnamon hurriedly pads into the room. The towel wrapped around her is short, covering her essentials. Barely. Which for some reason makes it even more erotic. "Bet you like hearing those words don''t you, Too Tall." Kryst grins up at me. Thankfully it seems that Cinnamon either hadn''t heard or hadn¡¯t picked up on the fairies double entendre. True to form Cinnamon turns her back to us and bashfully steps into the opposite end of the tub. Dropping the towel she attempts to cover her bountiful breasts with an arm and hand. And for the most part, fails in the task allowing me to catch a wonderful look at her butt, cute bunny tail and a generous helping of side boob. She does eek a bit when the hot water kisses the under the curve of her bottom, but quickly adjusts and settles down to her collar. I must be staring when she turns around because when Cinnamon glances over at me, she smiles and the inside of her ears pinken. "Alright, well..." I clear my throat and try to keep my composure casual and not dwell on the fact that I was sitting naked in the bathtub with a couple of women that were so hot that they could melt tungsten. "We are all here now. Kryst, why don''t you give us the rundown." ¡°Okay then, where was I? Right. So the troll wasn¡¯t down at the bridge, but, a group of guards were. About half a dozen of them." Kryst bobs in the slight wake as Cinnamon moves around to make herself more comfortable. "Guards?" Cinnamon forehead scrunches a bit. ¡°Yeah.¡± Kryst dips her head. ¡°I''m jumping onto the wagon with you, Too Tall. Something monkey is going on." "Monkey? I think you mean wonky." "I don''t. Monkeys are funny." I glance to Cinnamon who nods her head in eager agreement. I roll my eyes and give a little shake of my head. ¡°Guards and no Crod? I wonder how long they were down there.¡± ¡°A few hours.¡± Kryst pipes up as she backstrokes about. ¡°How do you know that?¡± "I talked to them.¡± Kryst says sarcastically, ¡°You aren''t the only silver-tongued smooth-talking scalawag around here. I can engage in civil conversation, you know." "That might have been risky. I mean we still don¡¯t know why those guards from this morning were looking for you." I say. ¡°Don¡¯t worry I played it cool. And there weren''t any of those Roots guys like the one we saw at the inn with them, so I figured it was worth it." "So they didn''t give you any trouble? About you being a Gleam and all?" Kryst shakes her head. "Nope, but these guys looked to simply be a squad of average low tier grunts. Whatever their problem with me is it doesn¡¯t seem like there¡¯s been any kind of citywide Gleam hunt called. If there was I¡¯m pretty sure that Marshal Tomas would have mentioned it, don¡¯t you think?¡± "Look at you coloring in the lines. Yeah, you right.¡± I nod and make a hand motion for her to continue. ¡°So what else did you learn?" "Not a heckuva lot really. A few hours ago these guards had been working the front gate, then they¡¯d been issued new orders to head down to the bridge and collect the tolls. I asked if the troll would be back anytime soon but they had no idea. Their shift doesn''t end until nightfall so the general consensus between the bunch was that they would be there until then. Which is usually when Crod knocks off anyway.¡± Reaching the edge of the tub Kryst stops and hangs onto the edge like a human-sized person would do in a swimming pool. ¡°Any tithes after dark are collected at the city gate." "Does this kind of thing happen fairly regularly? Crod, I dunno, taking a day off?" "They were a bit tight-lipped when it came to guard business but from what I managed to suss out, this was definitely not a normal occurrence." ¡°So is Crod missing? You think something has happened to him?¡± Cinnamon looks between us, a frown tugging the corner of her lips. ¡°Might be a little early to jump to that conclusion. He could have taken a¡­¡± I shrug, ¡°I dunno, personal mental health day or something. There is no way for us to know for sure but let¡¯s be on our toes at this party tonight, okay ladies?¡± Cinnamon and Kryst both bob their heads in agreement. ¡°I suppose we should get cleaned up and for it. Kryst, I don¡¯t know if you saw but while you were gone they dropped off a selection of clothes for you.¡± Cinnamon says. ¡°They did? When? I didn¡¯t hear anyone.¡± I ask. ¡°Not long after they delivered the snacks. I just took the case and put it in the bedroom so they didn¡¯t know Kryst wasn¡¯t here. ¡°Good thinking, Cinni.¡± Cinnamon grins at my compliment and reaches back to her towel and picks up her clump of gritty, pale yellow travel soap. ¡°Oh yeah, lemme get a piece of that too,¡± Kryst says as she treads water. "Belay that order number one.¡± With a smile, I lean over and grab my bag. ¡°I got something for both of you." "I don''t like surprises." Kryst raises an eyebrow as if wary but her little head cranes to see what my hands are searching for. "Where? What is it?" ¡°I have to lean out of the tub and doing so I feel my butt cheek cool as it breaks the surface of the warm water. Kryst lets out a playful catlike growl. "I''ll take it!" "Not that you nasty." I give her a disapproving tsk, even as I swell with the attention. Pulling out the wrapped bars of soap I offer the larger ones to Cinnamon and the two small chicklet sized packages to Kryst. I lift a knee almost clear of the water and Kryst climbs onto it to take a seat. "What''s this?" Greedily, much like the aforementioned monkey the fairy snatches the packets from my fingers. She stares at them and glances up at me. "It''s just a little something I thought you might like. Go on. Open them up." I say making a motion to the girls. "Oh, Brian. You didn''t have to do that." Cinnamon says. Kryst purses her lips a little then almost warily unwraps hers, Cinnamon does the same and coos immediately, lifting the glycerin bars to sniff at each of them in turn. "Soap?" Kryst sticks out her bottom lip, "You trying to tell me I stink, Too Tall?" "Shucks. Was I being too obvious?" I grin and bounce my knee a tad, giving Kryst the most minor of splashes. "It''s not much. But seeing as you and I have had to borrow Cinni''s a few times." I nod to Cinnamon who gives me a smile. "Oh, I didn''t mind.¡± Cinnamon beams, ¡°This is a lot better than the soap I have. Did you get some for yourself too? So that¡¯s why it smells so good in here." Cinnamon coos answering her own question. "I''m glad you like them. I was hoping that you would.¡± I shrug, "And this way you can have your own too, Kryst." "I didn''t realize my asking for a sliver of soap was such a bother." Kryst gives a little grunt as if affronted but I see the smile that she tries to hide behind the bars as she casually lifts them to her nose to breathe in the scents.This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. Cinnamon chooses the purple and the delight in the gift must have shaved an edge or two off of her shyness because she sits upright and turns to put her other bar and ugly soap lump on the towel behind her, rewarding me with a generous view of her chest. ¡°Hey.¡± Kryst interrupts my ogle. ¡°Pack this one away in your bag so it doesn¡¯t get wet.¡± Deciding on the red she hands me back the other hastily re-wrapped packet. ¡°What¡¯s the magic word?¡± ¡°Huh? I dunno? I¡¯m no Wizard.¡± I roll my eyes and glance to Cinnamon for help but, already working a lather into her hair, she looks just as puzzled. ¡°Never-mind.¡± I sigh and turn to stow the tiny soap away when I get another idea. An experiment to test how I may be able to combine my new ability with possible creative use of the Adventurer¡¯s Backpack. I reach into my Adventurers Backpack and I narrow my concentration, pulling on a memory¡­ You use Special Ability: Perfect Recall ¡­and in a flash, I''m no longer sitting in a bathtub with two beautiful naked women. Instead, I''m at the local mall back home, stepping off of one of the escalators near to the food court. I can taste the watered-down soft drink on my tongue as I suck on the straw. A woman with a couple of squealing toddlers waddles along, texting on her phone. A gaggle of loudly chattering girls pass close by and I get a whiff of a delicate feminine perfume. "¡­soap ain''t¡­" Something one of them says catches my attention, perhaps due to the relevance of what is happening with me right now in the tub. Unconsciously I focus on what I had heard. Background noises disappear around me as I walk along. Slide glancing at the attractive brunette wearing a short plaid skirt I catch snippets of their conversation. "¡­did you think would happen? Dish soap ain''t dishwashing liquid, you know." A thin, busty blond in a purple top says with a haughty voice. "Yeah, well I do now. The kitchen looked like one of them foam parties." Plaid skirt says. "Yuck. I hate those things. They seem cool at first, but like halfway through it''s all melted and nasty, and everything gets all sticky." Purple top replies, her fingers flying over her phone as she texts. "Your clothes are soaking wet too." A thick girl with blue highlights pipes in. "The one they had at the Shack was fun, remember?" An Asian girl says as the group turns, walking through the open doors of a clothing store. "When Lucy wore that white dress?" Plaid laughs. "You know she just wanted to show off her tits." Highlights scoffs. Then they are gone, passing out of earshot. "...grab some snacks before the movie... " A tall guy with long brown hair says to what I guess is his girlfriend as they walk past, headed in the opposite direction I am. Spotting a trashcan I beeline for it. After finishing the last of my drink with long, loud slurp I toss in the ice-filled, waxy cup. To my left is a Spencer''s storefront. Their windows stuffed full of the newest trends in pop culture stylings, party lights flashing in that industrial dance club storefront design. Two guys walk out of the store, diagonally in front of me. One chomping away at a half-eaten pretzel, the other in a light blue hoodie with two cartoon pigs engaged in coitus and the words ''Making Bacon'' underneath. "So my mom drunk texted me last night." Hoodie says. Pretzel guys laughs, sending salt granules flying. Weird, I don''t remember any of that. Well¡­ I guess I do. Or at least my subconscious does. I pull my focus back from the sound in my immediate vicinity and background chatter and mall music recreate the ambient white noise. I let the memory play out, looking through the window of the Spencer''s storefront. Behind "A Boobies Make Me Smile" decal, above gold miniskirts, stars & stripes bikini''s and next to the wall with a ridiculous amount of Funko pop figurines is the object that has lead me to this memory. An across the body satchel bag. It has a funky design, a couple of large pockets on the front with a tribal stylized dragon fighting an eagle interlaced with a bit of Kanji etched into the large overhanging protective flap. I remember liking the bag when I''d spotted it and had even toyed with the idea of buying it to carry my gaming books around. I hadn''t, but those same feelings well up in me now. My hand is in my Adventurer¡¯s Backpack and I summon the picture in my mind''s eye. It doesn''t take. I somehow know velcro and zippers are too complex for the limitations of the Backpack so at the speed of thought, I medievalize the design. Artist: Success! Replacing the nylon and polyester with leather. Velcro and zippers become buckles and straps. My fingers, searching about inside the kit, wrap around something and I look down to see a Barbie-sized satchel in the palm of my hand. The magenta dyed leather is a perfect color match to Krysts molten hued eyes and hair. But what really completes it is the awesome tribal design of the dragon and fairy battle, not the original eagle, embossed across the outside. Adventurer''s Backpack: Mundane: This item can be used to pull forth 5 mundane pieces of adventuring gear. The items retrieved cannot have a value of more than 5 gold. Once an item is called forth from the pack it remains. Contents: 50ft Hemp Rope, Grappling Hook, Handsaw, Fairy sized Satchel Bag [Uses Remaining: x2] If it was sized for a human with the level of detail and its sturdy design I¡¯m sure the satchel would cost far more than the five gold limit. Even miniaturized I wager its pretty close. Pleased with my success I grin. The test had used up another use of the Backpack but the knowledge was invaluable. Inside my pack I see the cloth wrapped toy bed, table, and chair I''d purchased earlier and pull them out at the same time, keeping everything hidden with my body from Krysts and Cinnamon''s sight. It has only taken perhaps fifteen seconds or so since I¡¯d turned around but it''s long enough for Kryst to get impatient. "Hey what are you doing over there? You fall asleep or something?" "I was just getting your other presents. But if you don''t want them¡­" I let the statement hang and glance over a shoulder. She immediately perks up again. Cinnamon humming quietly to herself also stops and glances over with searching eyes. "What do you mean, more presents?" Her little wings rise out of the water and give a quick quiver. "I didn''t have time to wrap them or anything." "Alright, alright. It''s obvious your dying to give them to me. So no need to worry about any kind of wrapping.¡± Kryst rolls her eyes and makes a very nonchalant motion, even turning her shoulder slightly and scrubbing at herself with her soap in an attempt to look as cucumber cool as possible. ¡°Next time though." "Oh my goodness! Those are wonderful." Sitting up in the tub Cinnamon leans to look past me at the furniture as I unwrap and set them up next to each other. I place the wrapped soap in the satchel along with a couple of the hard candies I''d gotten from the same store I''d purchased the furniture from. "What is? What he get me? Lemme see." Pretense gone, Kryst paddle spins about and moves closer to the edge. Gripping the side of the tub she hoists a body that would make any crossfit model jealous half out of the water. She stops. Then slowly climbs the rest of the way out and pads over to the bed. Walking around she runs her hand over the chair and picks up the satchel I had rested on the seat. "You got these for me?" She turns the bag over in her hands, her tiny fingers tracing over design. "Yeah. You¡¯d said that you lost your bag in that Drayger. You need someplace to keep your own coin and stuff so it¡¯s not an altogether altruistic gift, now you have no excuse for leeching off of me." I grin. Kryst doesn¡¯t say anything and steps over to the bed, pressing down on the silk sheets. The material bunches and slides as she continues to test out the softness of the expensive toy. "I will have to do a bit of work to resize the height of the chair and table a little. Shouldn''t be too much though. I don''t think you will have that complaint for the bed. Bigger the better for that I suppose.¡± I pause, feeling a little uncomfortable with her silence. ¡°Hopefully it''s room enough for you to stretch." I joke searching for a reaction. "It''s¡­" Kryst voice gets quiet and her back stiffens a little. She looks back at me and gone is the callous veneer. She looks small, and vulnerable. "Thank you, Brian." The sincerity in her tone warms my stomach. "What are friends for?" A smile breaks out on her face and a moment later and the bad ass is back. She leans over on the bed and shoots me a sultry look that makes makes me involuntarily swallow. "So you gonna help me test out this mattress or what?" Kryst jeers patting at the soft comforter. "Kryst. " Cinnamon sucks her teeth reproachfully. Laughing the fairy struts back over to the water, casually kicks her soap block backward toward the furniture then dives back in the water with barely a splash. I glance over at Cinnamon who has been running her soapy hands through her hair. It must be my Lightning Reflexes kicking in as she dips her head into the water. Like she is moving in slow motion she rises back up. Light shimmers off the droplets that drip from her cheeks, and down her chin. Eyes closed she takes in a breath as mine catches in my throat. Somehow she has become even more striking and I realize that the magical effect of the soap must have taken effect. Skin glowing, her glossy lips part. She opens her eyes and those big soft brown pools look directly into mine. "Whah? Hey now! Thar'' she blows!" Kryst bellows with a huge grin. "Sea serpent breaking off the port bow!" History repeating, once again my hands dive back under the water to my groin and send Kryst tumbling end over end. "Oh no!" Cinnamons hands are just as quick as they move to catch the fairy. Sitting up she lifts Kryst to the surface. Holding her above the water between her soapy and now entirely reveled chest. The sight of the bubbles running down her mounds and the gentle lap of the water that sends her nipples peaking in and out of the suds does absolutely nothing to ease whats happening under my hands. And in fact only exacerbates the situation. "You need to be careful, Brian." Cinnamon sweetly scolds. If Kryst is at all upset she shows no sign of it. Cackle laughing away. "Think he sees something he likes, Carrots?" ¡°Well you are very attractive, Kryst.¡± Cinnamon blushes. "Me? Nah. I don''t think I stoke his fires much." Kryst leans back. Her hands stretching up above her head she arches her back against the curvature of Cinnamon''s breasts like she is posing for a swimsuit glamor shot. The hard-bodied fairy rubs her bare foot up and down her other calf slowly. "Or am I wrong about that, Too Tall?" She asks, her voice getting low and husky. Nestled against Cinnamon cleavage, I stare at Kryst as she slowly undulates her body thrusting her own goods out for display. Her tiny hand pushes through her short hair and she bites a lip with a sexy grin so mischievous and teasing it borders on malicious. I can tell the soap has done its magic on her as well. Her wet skin seems to shimmer with an almost stripper-sparkle glitter effect. A glance to Cinnamon pumps the brakes on my growing lust. Her skin is flushed, her breath growing shorter and shallow. She darts her tongue out to lick a bead of water from her full lips. The platform of her hands which Kryst is standing on lowers a little and I see her back arching ever so slightly. The underside of her breasts rise until they are barely kissing the water. Suds trickle between her cleavage. Her dilated eyes meet mine and the look she gives me¡­ "Kryst." I grit my teeth in frustration, "Don''t fool around. If you want to go on teasing me, fine. I can take it. But don''t do it around Cinni. With her curse¡­think about her feelings. It''s not fair to her and frankly is just downright mean. You''re better than that." "Yeah about that." Kryst pushes off of Cinnamon''s boob to stand in her palm. She glances up at me and then over her shoulder at the flushed bunny girl. She lets out a sigh. "There may be something I can do to help with your problem, Carrots." "Really? You can? How?" Cinnamons ears perk up and she leans forward as if to catch the words faster. "You remember how I was telling you about how fairies are tied to the Faywylde, right? We have a connection to Mana that few creatures can contemplate. We harness it, can¡­channel it." "I recall. How does that help Cinni though?" I ask, also a bit desperate to solve this particular problem. "If you would let me finish I''ll get to it." ¡°Sorry, please.¡± I make a motion of buttoning my lip. Kryst pauses and clears her throat. "All living things have a certain amount of Mana in them. Magic users tend to have a bit more but thats a because they have adapted their being to store more of it. Same way a warriors trains their muscles to fight. Different discussion entirely." She waves a hand as if she is getting off-topic. "So, from what I understand this ¡®curse¡¯ of yours is a magical effect, what happens, at least partially, is that you lose control of the Mana inherently contained in your body which triggers the transformation. Be that due to your body''s instinctive opening of its Mana pathways in a moment of fight or flight or when you are looking to get¡­ intimate." Cinnamons ears lower and a blush tints her cheeks but she nods for Kryst to go on. ¡°If you were a magic user. You probably wouldn¡¯t have this issue. You would most likely either feel the onset and halt it or perhaps even empty your Mana pool by throwing out spells. Though I¡¯m not entirely sure the latter solution would work. Most likely the transformation would trigger once the Mana in your body got to low.¡± ¡°Yeah, I think you are right. I had a magical torch awhile ago and a few times when I used it I transformed.Once I got so scared of activating it that I ''bunnied''.¡± Cinnamons lets out a huff. ¡°I got rid of it after that.¡± ¡°Good to know that Kryst is on the right track.¡± I say trying to raise Cinnamons spirits. ¡°So, I need to study magic? Won¡¯t that take forever?¡± Cinnamon looks even more disheartened. "That might be a long term solution, but I don¡¯t think Kryst is suggesting that you enroll in a school of Witchcraft and Wizardry just yet.¡± I glance to the fairy. ¡°Are you?¡± ¡°Correct. Now watch." Kryst raises her arms and for an instant a crackle of energy wreathes her form. Just as quickly it is gone leaving wisps of steam to rise from her now dry body to twist in the air. "See? Now as a Gleam I have a bit of an unfair advantage but I have also trained to control the Xan in my body and can harness it better than most--" "Wait, Xan?" I interrupt in my own eagerness to understand. "Sorry, Xan. Mana. Same thing really." "Ah so like Chi and Ki just a different cultural name for it." "Huh. You''re smarter than I thought, Too Tall." "High praise." I scoff sarcastically. "Anyway," Cinnamon side glances at me and Kryst impatiently, clearly not wanting her and I to start on some ribbing tangent, "like Brian suggested can you teach me how to control it then?¡± "Maybe. I could show you breathing and focusing techniques, but that takes patience, time and considerable self-control." ¡°So far I''m not hearing a solution." Cinnamon pouts. "There may be a way to¡­ cheat a little. Think of it like this. Xan, Mana, Chi, Ki, whatever name you have for it, is the energy of life itself. When creatures¡­" Kryst smirks, " buck, they skirt into that energy, tap into it an for the briefest moment an experience a infinitesimal pinprick of raw, untamed life. A spark of creation." ¡°Wait. Are you saying that¡¯s how pregnancy happens?¡± I scoff internally. I wonder what my high school Sex Ed. teacher would say if I had ever offered up the theory that ¡®Babies come from magic life energy not dividing cells.¡¯ But, maybe that wasn¡¯t such a far fetched idea? Was Mana really a catalyst of life in this world, or possibly even my own? ¡°Yes and no. It¡¯s a ¡ª¡± ¡°I don¡¯t want to get pregnant!¡± Cinnamon interrupts abruptly, her eyes wide. ¡°Well, not right now, anyway.¡± She continues lowering her voice. ¡°You¡¯re not gonna get pregnant.¡± Kryst huffs. ¡°Look. If¡­ with a little effort, I think I¡¯ll able to draw off the Mana during the time when you lose control. It should keep those unintentionally opened pathways of yours closed and stop the transformation. They will build up again of course so its not just one and done. The problem is¡­" Kryst gives an uncharacteristically sheepish grin, ¡°It means I have to be¡­ close during those times." ¡°Oh?" Cinni bites her lip and glances at me. "Like how close? In the same room or¡­?" Cinnamon lets the question hang and Kryst lets out a little snort. "That¡¯s not the kinda close I mean, Carrots." "Oh¡­OH!" Cinnamon gulps and her cheeks, ears and even her chest flushes. "How would we¡­ I mean¡­" "Well. That¡¯s where, Too Tall here comes in.¡± Kryst says. I gulp as the girls share a long look and then both turn their laser like gaze to stare at me. Like a deer pausing for the perfect shot in a hunters sights, I freeze. ¡°That is, if he''s willing and more importantly¡­ up to the task." Chapter 49: Shower Sexy-time - Bwow Chicka wow wow This couldn''t be happening. But it was... Video games may have been getting more risque lately but at the game table, this was usually where the Game Master would describe a fade to black to spare everyone the discomfort of role-playing out an explicit sexual encounter. Naturally, the players would laugh a bit in borderline childishness. If we were feeling particularly silly a few Constitutional based ''performance'' rolls might be made, with the involved players silently praying to all the dice gods this would not be the time that they''d roll a critical fumble. This is crazy, this is crazy, this is crazy¡­ I lean back on the edge of the tub, legs dangling in the hot water, my butt on the cold tile. Between my spread thighs, Cinnamon is kneeling half-submerged, soapy breasts bobbing, her hands on my thighs creeping up my legs by fractions of an inch. Damn it, Brian! The salacious display spurs me onward. You can do this! Swallowing the lump in my throat I gather my courage. This is the dream, buddy! "Hands still." Kryst orders. Cinnamon glances to where the fairy is pacing across my abs like a drill instructor, and nods. "Remember, don''t get too worked up too fast." "Right." Cinnamon brow crinkles as she steels her resolve with a look of determination that would be comical in any other situation. She lets out a slow breath and glances up past my obsidian length to my face. I feel¡­ strange still wearing my shades. Like I am a ''bit too cool for school'' machismo jerk. The lights have been dimmed for mood, to a point that that my sensitive eyes would not be blinking back tears. It was with shock then that when I''d started to remove my shades both ladies had requested for me to leave them on. Back home I''d think a woman would consider it a callous, a downright inconsiderate thing to do. Being out of the norm and without my homeworld connotations, however, perhaps it is simply a much more erotic sight for them. "Nice and easy. You want to let the fires build slowly, not throw oil onto them in an explosive burst. That is half of your problem. Getting worked up way too fast." Kryst repeats for the third time. "What do you mean?" I ask Kryst trying to take my mind off of what is happening between my legs and, truth be told, a little unsure whether she is speaking to me or Cinnamon. "Beastkin in general tend to get aroused quickly, but Lepuri even more so." Kryst says with a small wave of a hand. "It''s not their fault, simply nature at play." My brain struggles to override my lust. Somehow it wins and the words come out. "Kryst, are you absolutely sure about this?" I kick myself, again, for suggesting we not try however the thoughts of the disastrous consequences of what could happen if we screw up does help take a bit of the edge off of my own fast-growing arousal at least. "I mean, this could be really dangerous." "Trust me, Brian. I know what I am doing." Kryst reassures then turns back to Cinnamon. Spoiler: Spoiler "Go ahead, Carrots. Just lean in and start with a few kisses." "Umm okay." The moment of truth. Cinnamon lowers her face down to the base of my dick. Her lips with a feather touch alight on my balls. Gently, oh so gently, she continues to deliver the soft kisses until I swear she must have covered every inch three times over. "Good, you''re doing great." Kryst praises, and in my mind, I ferociously nod my head up and down like a bobble-head doll stuck in a paint shaker. "Now, when you''re ready, give him a lick." I feel Cinnamon, lips still kissing nod her head and a few heartbeats later a tongue delicately touch my sack. A groan starts to build in my throat. Kryst shoots me a glare and¡­ Wits Save: Success! ¡­with a will of steel that''s even harder than my penis I push it down. I''d been warned that too much of a show of pleasure on my part, particularly at the start, might be detrimental to keeping her calm. Cinnamon''s face stays just out of sight but I feel each delicate touch as she explores my nuts and the base of my pole. Her ears twitch between my legs and her damp hair tickles at my inner thigh. Kryst, standing next to my dick like it''s a tree on the edge of a cliff, places a hand onto my trunk for support and leans over, looking down between my legs. I see her nod then make a come forward motion like she is directing a driver attempting a tight parallel park. The pleasure builds as I feel Cinnamons teasing tongue slowly start traveling upward. I grit my teeth as her eyes rise up and into view and she gazes into mine. Had I been back in my normal body I have absolutely zero doubt that sight alone would have had me spraying like a fire hose to be quickly followed by a curl into a protective fetal ball position. Luckily, whatever will or constitutional power I possess here is stronger. I keep my face impassive, thankful that the girls had me wear my shades after all. If Cinnamon could see the absolute lust in my eyes I''d definitely have a bunny rabbit nibbling on my dick instead of her full soft lips. Deception: Success! What feels like an eternity of pleasure later Cinnamon reaches the tip of my length and without warning her lips engulf my cock head. She manages to get two quick bobs and a quarter of the way down my length when Kryst smacks her nose with a "NO! What did I say?" Cinnamon pulls back in a flash. Looking emotionally hurt and forcing Kryst to deftly sidestep my dick as it slaps against my abs and bounces upright like an armless wacky waving inflatable tube man. "Okay, but... It''s hard!" Cinnamon whines staring at my cock, wobbling away in front of her. "I just wanted to taste him a teeny bit is all! See? I only went down a little!" Cinnamon protests indicating the wetness on my pole.This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it. "Look!" Kryst lets out a huff, "If you aren''t even gonna try to follow my instructions then we can just forget this whole thing! That''s it. We''re done." "No! No!" Cinnamon shakes her head vehemently from side to side. "I promise, I''ll be good. I won''t suck him anymore!" "Well¡­ I mean, Kryst. If she really wants to..." I manage to choke out. "You shaddap! You''re not helping." Kryst says pointing at me with a knife-hand. The fairy lets out a long sigh and paces for a moment or two, making both Cinnamon and I hold our breath for her decision. "I would say your thinking with your small head, but in your case, that''s a bit of a misnomer." Kryst chuckles and smacks my length, just under the tip. It wobbles from side to side and a weird sensation lances through my body from her touch. I try and stifle it but can''t help but let out a groan of pleasure. "Fine. We''ll give it another go. From the top¡­ err bottom." Kryst gives a double clap of her hands and points Cinnamon back down to my balls. With a closed-eyed coo of joy Cinnamon settles back down between my legs. I watch her butt rise out of the water, her bunny tail dancing about. Hours of torture later, but what is according to my new magical pocket watch on the tile next to me actually only seventeen minutes, my cock and balls are now glistening. Under Kryst''s expert guidance, the beautiful bunny girl has graduated from the gentle kisses and worshiping licks to sucking each of my swollen balls into her mouth. Only after they''ve been tongue swirled and suckled to the point that my cock is dribbling pre-cum like it''s a leaky faucet does Kryst finally allow her to leave them alone and place my cock between her lips. Unwilling to make the same mistake again Cinnamon dutifully does as instructed bobbing up and down on my length at a leisurely speed directed by the fairy. Which I may add she does with a shockingly unprecedented level of skill. Slowly working her way up, or more accurately down, until she is now engulfing an impressive two-thirds of my shaft with each downward stroke. Two days, or nine and a half minutes, later I can''t take it anymore. "Gawddamn¡­ Kryst! P-Please! Time... I need a break..." I croak. "Hells below, Brantley!" Kryst chastises with a sharp suck of her teeth."We haven''t even gotten to the hard stuff yet!" "Holding off from popping under all this teasing ain''t easy!" I say, my tongue growing steadily looser from the ongoing stress. "Never-mind that I''ve been picturing this for going on three days!" "Hey! Having you around with those washboard abs and, wanna sit on your face good looks, ain''t a picnic for us either you know." Kryst buzzes, face flushed she points at my tensed stomach and then accusingly up at my face. Cinnamon, still with half of my dick in her mouth nods suddenly in fervent agreement. Constitution Save: Fail! A wave of tension builds. The world slows as my Lightning Reflexes kick in, a dam a split second away from bursting¡­ Wits Save: Critical Success! Criteria Met. Unlocked: Special Ability: Iron Will: lvl 1- Available for purchase. Time Limited Purchase With inhuman control I grab Cinnamons hair and somehow yank her off of me with a wet sounding pop, barely preventing the inevitable. Immediately Cinnamon starts to gasp and shiver.Her arms tremble, fingers digging painfully into the muscles of my thighs. "Get your godsdamned hands off her!" Kryst screeches, suddenly an inch away from my face. "Right now!" Shocked, I release my grip on Cinnamon''s hair. The ferocity behind Kryst voice scaring my approaching orgasm down a few notches on what will inevitably be comparable to the Mt. Saint Helen''s explosion. "Take it easy, Cinnamon." In a flash Kryst is at my thigh and making a ''Whoa, settle down'' calming motion with her hands. "Just take a breath and relax. Breath slowly. You''re okay." Kryst instructs. Cinnamon nods, closing her eyes and breathing deep. Ever so slowly her breath steadies. She looks up at me her eyes wide and apologetic. "I''m sorry¡­ I didn''t mean." Cinnamon lowers her eyes looking on the verge of tears. "That was so stupid of me." "No! Hey. It''s alright. I¡­" I cut her off trying to ease the defeatist attitude, I grin and shake my head from side to side "I just got a bit too turned on and needed a little breather. Believe me. You did nothing wrong." Cinnamon goes quiet but I notice her lowered ears perk up a bit. "Okay." She finally says. She bites her lip then looks up at me with a nervous smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. "So¡­ did you, like it? I mean¡­ I know you are putting up with a lot--" "Cinni-baby, speaking for myself and my friend here," I shake my head and motion down to my rock hard length, "I think that we can both agree you are absolutely amazing." With a grin, I tense the muscles in my groin making my dick bounce up and down in the semblance of an extremely happy nod of approval. Charm vs Cinnamon Butter: Success! Cinnamons giggle coo laughs at my antics is quickly cut off with a loud ''Ahem.'' from Kryst. She cocks an eyebrow in my direction in an obvious warning not to continue with too much flattery. "If you two are quite done?" The fairy motions toward Cinnamon to get back into position. Cinnamon nods. Stands and stretches. She works out her jaw, then with her hands on my legs, kneels back down. Kryst still makes her stay like that a minute or so more, watching her like a hawk to make sure she has calmed enough continue. Satisfied at last, she gives Cinnamon a nod of approval and I am once more rewarded with the glorious sights, sounds, and sensations of my sweet, sexy shy, playboy bunny beauty slurping steadily up and down on me. Walking up my body Kryst takes a seat on my shoulder and I can''t help but feel the heat from her own snatch practically scalding a blister on my skin. "That was a close one." She whispers into my ear. "What happened?" I whisper, my eyes rolling back as Cinnamon reaches the tip of my dick and slowly reverses direction."I mean¡­ I kinda know what happened, but, well¡­ what happened?" "Carrots told me earlier. She likes a man who takes charge a bit. Why do you think you''re keeping still and letting her do all the work? For your benefit?" Kryst tsks and shakes her head. "No, she ain''t ready for you to take any sort of control yet. She is doing really well, but--" "I''ll fucking say." I groan silently, gritting my teeth and trying to think about cold showers with ugly clowns. "But," Kryst continues rapping on the side of my head with her tiny fist, "as close as that little slip was I don''t think we should take any more chances." "What do you mean? Do you think we should stop?" I whisper back, again glad that I''m wearing shades so that this time Kryst can''t see what must be my puppy dog eyes begging it not to be true. "No. We are okay now, but do believe that''s about as far as we are gonna get today without a safety net." Kryst stands up and a tiny footstep eases her closer to my ear. Doll sized hands touch the lobe and stroke upward to the sharp tapered tips, masterfully manipulating the highly-sensitive erogenous zones this body possesses. That weird euphoria starts again, and a small bit of warm, moist air, brushes over my ear, a tingle that travels up and down my neck. "Now then, you naughty tease, I know you are all bug-eyed for the bunny¡­" Kryst whispers in a low husky voice directly into my ear canal. "But there are things I can do that''ll leave you panting. Begging for more¡­" I feel her lips touch my ears and a jolt rocks through my body and lightning bolts toward my groin. Kryst knows what she is doing, however, and pulls back at the last moment. Even still my abdominals tighten almost painfully and I nearly shove my hips upward questing for more of the pleasure of Cinnamon''s mouth. "See?" With a chuckle, Kryst peers around the side of my face then slide her naked body down my chest. She stands, jabs her hands onto her hips and strikes a pose, a wicked smile oozing onto her face. Like a high heeled dominatrix, she presses the toes of one foot to my clavicle and pushes downward. There is the gentlest of pressure but I sink backward to lay back on the towel-covered tile behind me. Kryst slowly saunters up, stopping at my chin to lick her lips. At the back of my mind, there is a pinprick of doubt. I can''t help but think that this is all an act that she''s putting on. Cinnamon was different. It was almost inconceivable that her emotions weren''t right out there for all to see. Kryst on the other hand. Other ''mean girl'' types have done it to me before after all. Teasing me. Toying with my emotions in a sick sort of game in order to gain their own satisfaction. I study her for a moment trying to get a bead on what she is thinking. To see through the lie. Insight: Success! I feel ashamed when I look into her face. There is a genuine desire there. Incredulously Kryst wants me to want her. If anything she''s intimidated by Cinnamon and my obvious desire for her. Not to be outdone, she''s showing off. Arching her back, thrusting out her chest and turning her hips to accentuate her Barbie doll proportions even further. "You can be pretty smooth with that mouth of yours, Too Tall." She stares down at me with a flushed face and an excited grin of her own. It''s time you really put it to work." Chapter 50: The Honey Pot - Bwow Chicka wow wow -pt2 The honey pot. That particular spy-genre descriptor has always tickled me. A woman so manipulative, so in control, so desirable and attractive, that even the wariest of men are helpless as flies. Drawn in and caught. Held fast by the most obvious of traps. Cinnamon could easily be my honey pot. The saccharine-sweet bunny girl has got me all but wrapped around her little finger. And I don¡¯t mind one bit. Disregarding her beauty Cinnamons gentle caring demeanor and shy personality calls out to me like a moth to a flame. It makes me want to wrap my arms around her. To please her. To protect her and never let go. Now, that same argument might be made for Kryst. Despite her brashness, and not accounting for her own amazing looks either, I¡¯ve developed feelings for her too, and there was no use in trying to deny them. Maybe they are not the same ones that had initially drawn me to Cinnamon but there was something very appealing about Krysts no-nonsense attitude. The way I could joke and flirt with her in a totally different way. To me, the honey pot adage was easily assigned to Cinnamon''s sweet personality. In the fairy''s case, however, the descriptor I have now found is one that can be applied in a much more literal sense. ¡°C¡¯mon, Too Tall.¡± Spoiler: Spoiler A sweet sticky warmth tickles my taste buds as, positioned with her legs spread gymnast wide, Kryst grinds her tiny puffy pussy against the cleft of my upper lip. Reaching up she pulls my shades down the bridge of my nose to peer over the edge of the frames and into my eyes. ¡°What¡¯s wrong? Scared to give it a taste?¡± Kryst challenges with a wide grin. Carefully, open my mouth and dart out the tip of my tongue. Startled by the nectar taste that races from the point of contact like electricity, sending tingles of pleasure through my mouth and into my brain. It''s all I can do to not lick frantically at the fairy''s snatch, to get at more of that syrupy, euphoric deliciousness. My tongue darts up again and she lets out another sharp giggle-grunt of pleasure. In an attempt to force my mouth open even further she wriggles her hips. Trying to pry my lips apart with her tight, tiny ass. Without prompting my mouth responds on its own. Yet even as it does, I''m reminded of a time when I had worked to develop a particular set of skills. How at one point I¡¯d actively tried to prepare for the situation I now find myself in. Not the exact situation, obviously. I doubt that there is any real preparation for having a bunny girl between your knees gently sucking you off while at the same time a Kung Fu fairy rides your face. Performing tricks with my tongue had always been a show-off move of mine. In my foolish male brain, I''d secretly always hoped that the stupid, party tricks of undulating my tongue in weird and wacky ways or tying knots into cherry stems would be ¡®the thing'' that sealed the deal for me with a member of the opposite sex. It had indeed gotten me some small amount of attention. Not in the date department mind you, simply a few passing comments of ''Wow! That''s amazing!'' or ''You''re gonna make some girl really happy.'' That was usually followed by a laugh and the conversation moving onto another topic. This was different. Though I had no real opportunity to capitalize on it in a sexual way before I plan to do so now. I''d overheard complaints between chatting female co-workers concerning guys who were hopeless in the ''going down'' department. That was not going to happen to me. Now was my time to shine! I will not look like a fool who didn''t have a clue what they were doing to the doll-sized dynamo humping my lips. Unlocked: Free Background Skill: Perform [Limited Skill] Background Skill: Perform [Limited Skill] - Renamed: Sexual Techniques x0 Free Background Skills Remaining Background Skill: Sexual Techniques Specialization: Tongue Tricks x2 Free Specialization Remaining Sexual Techniques + Tongue Tricks Specialization Bonus: Major Success!If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement. A rush of euphoric pleasure pours through me as I step up my game. The Gleams small snatch can''t be much larger than a dime in size, but a Drow tongue must be much more flexible and sensitive than a humans, as I¡¯m delighted to find out that not only can I easily follow and lap at every small crease, but rolling back the hood to expose her tiny clitoris to my teasing touch is just as easy. Even corkscrewing the tip of my tongue, darting it in and out to a depth I wouldn''t have thought possible, isn''t beyond my newfound capabilities. Krysts response to my discover seems to be a level of jubilation even greater than my own. The fairy opens her mouth and eyes in such a state of utter shock that if captured and posted back home would instantly go viral as a popular Internet meme. I go cross-eyed for a moment as she leans forward, grapples my nose and squeezes so hard I fear she may break it. A stream of strange-sounding expletives bursts out of Kryst''s mouth. Crushing her body against my nostrils she pushes my shades crooked on my face and unwittingly cuts off my air. In desperation to breathe I open my lips further. Taking this as her opportunity the self-satisfaction seeking Barbie bodied fairy straddles my tongue like a cowgirl riding a mechanical bull. Bucking and grinding wildly she releases my nose from her sex addled death grip and instead reaches down around my shades to grab a hold of my ears, affixing herself to me like a face-hugger from my favorite sci-fi sequel. Meanwhile, as the sweet, near addictive taste of Kryst floods my mouth from her writhing, at my groin Cinnamon has accomplished what I would have thought nearly impossible and is now swallowing almost the entirety of my sword with every downward stroke. Not without effort mind you, as I can hear the quiet, but distinctive, sounds of gagging even over Krysts increasingly loud vocals. Unwilling to use her hands Cinnamons palms are still resting on the top of my thighs and I feel the bunny beauty shift about in an attempt to get into a better position. It''s at this point that I realize Cinnamon, may all the gods of this world bless her, is determined to let nothing stand in the way of getting to the very bottom of the rock hard dilemma placed in front of her. Even so, she does have to pause every handful of strokes at the head of my dick. There she takes a few steadying breaths, after which she sucks almost painfully hard on the meaty head, lavishes a bit of swirling tongued attention onto the tip, then drives her mouth back down. "Oh, you nasty gasho! That''s it!" Kryst gasps and moans, "You like the taste of my flower? Huh? Yeah, you do¡­ Lick it! Faster! Don''t stop, don''t you kusohin stop!" The little hard-bodied beauty has her head thrown back and although Kryst is obviously talking to me the questions she presents come across as purely rhetorical. And just as clearly, the instructions not so much suggestions as strict orders for me to follow. Wings buzzing she rolls her hips around. Bouncing up and down like she can''t decide if she wants to force even more of my swirling tongue inside of her or to concentrate on my continued teasing of her pussy. I take the decision away from her. Keeping my tongue tip twirling, pistoning in and out while flattening the broader width and undulating it against her clit. Sexual Techniques + Tongue Tricks Specialisation Bonus: Extreme Success! Her response is positive, to say the least. Overcome Kryst lets out a primal cry and spins around to lean over my chin in a sort of wheelbarrow, doggie style position. I manage to get my tongue back inside her quickly and she immediately begins her frantic thrusts, twerking her tight ass on the tip of my nose. By now Kryst is all but hissing at me, all the while rewarding me with more of that sweet, sweet nectar and, even though she has switched to some other strange language, I can still happily recognize that whatever she is squealing it is chock full of more lust tinted, pleasure-filled cursing. I lean up on my elbows so I can look through my crooked shades, past the fairy''s firm ass bouncing on my mouth and to the gorgeous sight of Cinnamon leaning over. Her full soapy breasts splash against the surface of the water in the tub as she works at swallowing that last troublesome inch of cock. It''s all too much. I manage to pull my tongue out of Kryst who lets out a protesting whine. Still leaning forward she reaches back with one tiny hand in an attempt to reposition my tongue back at her snatch. I manage to fend off the fairy long enough to gasp out a "S-Stop Stop! I need another time¡­ out... I''m getting close¡­" "Who''s stopping you?" Kryst grins over her shoulder as she catches my dodging tongue and positions it for her greedy pleasure again. "Kryst... I''m not f-fooling around..." I mumble. "Good. Use your hands. Buck her face!" The fairy groans, impaling her self once more and blasting my brain with another dose of that sweet nectar rush. The lust, the drug-like euphoria lancing from the tip of my tongue throughout my body from Krysts literally magical snatch meets with the indescribable pleasure of Cinnamon''s equally gifted mouth. It''s too much. My hands stretch forward, my impressive abdominal muscle strength balancing me as I reach out to wrap my fingers into Cinnamons'' long wet hair. Then I''m guiding her. In the back of my mind, the ''respect women'' part of my brain is warning me, telling me that perhaps I''m being a bit too forceful. I can''t stop! Cinnamon gurgles and moans, the gentle sucking sounds from before growing wetter and more lewd. Fueling my desire. I feel the water splashing at my legs, see her breasts swinging in that exquisitely seductive way. At any second I expect Cinnamon to protest, to try to break free from my grip or slap at me with her hands. She does none of it. Instead, I feel her hands sliding up and down my thighs with need. Then her right-hand dives below the water, to her groin and her throat opens even wider. Then I am bottoming out with each thrust, my hips bucking in time to her lips meeting my balls. Her tongue lapping out. "Yeah, girl! Suck that big Drow cock, Carrots! He tastes good, don''t he? Look at him, the dirty bastard loves it!" Kryst yells all the while squeezing my jaw with her knees and riding my tongue like she is trying to break in a crazed wild stallion. Cinnamon lifts her eyes and even though the manic thrusting, by all parties, I feel... something. For a heartbeat Cinnamon struggles in my grip, trying to get free. But it''s too late. We are all too far past the point of no return. Her ears go stiff, full of fear her brown eyes lock with mine. Drow sense tingling. My heart catches in my throat, I don''t see it as much as feel it in my bones. In my soul. Her curse is triggering... UPDATE: FATHER IN HOSPITAL Last week (? Two weeks ago? Days are starting to blend.) my father was taken to the hospital. He had been sick with the flu but it must progressed into a lung infection. Coupled with his COPD it became a very serious condition, very quickly. While in the emergency room, after various tests and so forth, they gave him a diagnosis that he had pneumonia and that he would be admitted. While waiting for a general ward room his oxygen level plummeted and he suddenly made a sort of sneeze sound and dropped limp in my arms. The nurses came in and within seconds he was rushed out of the room leaving my mother, wife and I standing in a state of shock wondering if we had just seen my father pass away in front of our eyes. Tense minutes later they returned to the room saying he was still with us. We went into the new room where he was hooked up to ventilators and various machines. There they sucked out lots of fluid from his lungs. In the few minutes, us still in a fuge state, he suddenly tensed again. I saw the monitors flashing red with ''No patient pulse" or something similar. I yelled out to the nurses who stepped back into the room. They poked with the machines for a second then started calling for the doctor. I''d seen similiar when working as security in a hospital years ago and I suppose TV has spoiled us to what really happens in hospitals but you''d think doctors would hustle to attend to a paient when called in an emergency situation, not amble down the hallway at a leasurily pace while the nurses are performing chest compressions. I''m telling you, watching your father rushed from a room, seeing him with tubes and ventilators and people performing chest compressions¡­ man, it''s some awful feelings. Then to have the doctors come in, sit down with you and basically tell you to start preparing for the worst¡­ He was moved into the ICU and now, I am happy to say, he is doing a LOT better. Amazingly so in fact. They were saying it would take maybe five days to come off the ventilator (if he ever did that is!). He was off it in one. The next day they had him on a face mask. Day after on nose oxygen tube. Day after that, normal breathing. Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings. After only a few days he is sitting in the chair in the room, is talking normally and is almost back to his old self. To think that two or three days ago they were suctioning mucus the color of an avocado skin out of him¡­ The doctor who gave us "The talk" came in a few days ago and the look on his face was pure shock. Even he seemed like he couldn''t believe the turnaround in my father''s condition. Now everything isn''t sunshine and rainbows yet. There have been some other issues but and entire ordeal has left my dad extremely weak, to the point of not being able to stand up on his own. All of this has, of course, put a big hiccup into my writing and posting schedule. It has also had another effect of putting some things into perspective. For a long time "Brian the Drow" has been a sort of hobby for me. Something that I love doing but a pleasure that takes a back seat to other, what I often feel, are more pressing needs. I need to change that. Life is precious and we all need to squeeze as much enjoyment out of our time here. So I have decided to commit more to my writing. One step in doing this is to start up a Patreon. However, I want to make one thing abundantly clear. I AM NOT SETTING UP THIS PATREON OR ASKING FOR MONEY FOR MY FATHER''S MEDICAL BILLS OR TREATMENTS. This Patreon is to support my writing desire. To have a tangible commitment. To work for what I love and to provide my readers with more of what they have enjoyed so far. For now the Patreon will simply have a few tiers with a chapter or three posted ahead of the Royal Roads chapters but I would like to grow it more with additions such as discord, art and perhaps side stories. Before all of this happened I was getting a bit ahead with my prepared chapters. I have been working to clean them up while in waiting rooms and during non-visiting hours and I have posted 3 chapters on the Patreon so far. The chapters will become available on Royal Roads as well but the Patreons will get them a bit ahead so if you would like to get the jump on the story by the Patreon and sign up now. PATREON PAGE: BRIAN THE DROW The support that you have all shown me has been tremendous and I hope that you all realise how much I appreciate all of the comments, favorites, kind words and encouragement you have given me on this journey until now and I look forward to continuing ever onward with you all into the future. Sincerely, Scott Cross Chapter 51: Reciprications- Bwow Chicka wow wow -pt3 "I g-got you, Carrots!" Kryst yells, bouncing on my tongue. I feel it in the air. Maybe it''s my Lightning Reflexes but just like how every movie depicts moving at super speed as bullettime slow motion, time begins to crawl. For that passing sliver of a micro-second Kryst''s back arches in a near circular curve. Kryst trembles, Cinnamon stiffens, and... something passes between them. A snap in the air that''s both color and taste. A sound turned inside out. Then, faster than the speed of a forgotten memory, it''s gone. Leaving nothing in its wake but a trace of wonder. Cinnamon relaxes and, two guided strokes later, I die, and am reborn. I don''t know if it''s the heightened sensitivity of this elf body, the magic of the fairy, or the fact that I''ve been teetering on the brink of exploding for nearly an hour, but the orgasm that rips through me is like nothing I''ve ever felt before. So powerful, it leaves me in near tears. Kryst is laughing, not maliciously but in a weird disjointed shudder. Spoiler: Spoiler Caught in the throngs of pleasure herself she angrily scrubs her cunt over my tongue like she''s trying to get a genie to pop out of it. When I finally come down from the euphoria like high I realize that I''ve finally stopped my insistent thrust-guiding of Cinnamon''s mouth over my length. Erotic as the sight of a beautiful, playboy bunny playmate with her mouth fully impaled on me is, an awful feeling of regret twists my stomach. How could I do that? Treat a woman who I adored in that way? The thought rattles me and I lovingly cup Cinnamon''s cheek and draw her up. My brain struggles to come up with an apology. Words to express my sorrow, that could somehow erase all the terrible things she must inevitably think of me. "Cinnamon?" I clear my throat, "Baby? I don''t --" I get no further. Cinnamon, bless her heart, laps at my length, moving her lips to my cock head to shine the knob like it''s a centerpiece diamond in a million dollar jewelry display case. The smile on her face is pure bliss and her cute bunny tail wags about in excited, jumping twitches. "Cinni ¡­ that¡­you? Amazing!" I gasp around a mouthful of Kryst''s butt. I''d have liked to have been a more eloquent, but in my current state I think I did pretty damn well. My fingers stroke through her hair and she shoots me that infectious closed eyed coo smile, looking happier than I''ve ever seen her. "I know right!" Cinnamon grins. "I thought you said you were a vegetarian, Carrots." Kryst teases with a laugh. Cinnamon blushes and giggles in a cute, shy way. A complete contrast to the epic level skill she just demonstrated in sucking me off. She turns her attention to the fairy. "Kryst! How did you? I mean, sweet spirits! Thank you so much!" Cinnamon shakes her head. "I''ve seen healers and wizards, but none of them could help me." "I''m not surprised." Kryst puffs her chest and buzzes her wings. After a wiggle and long exhale sigh she finally extracts herself from my mouth and climbs down off my face. "Detect Magic style spells and curses are not what you needed. Beside those types who are versed in a particular sort of naturalist specialization, a druid, or perhaps a shaman or spiritualist, I doubt any but a Gleam could catch the ethereal wave. And fewer still would have the skill to steer it away." "And you could do it again? I mean, now that you know what to look for, it should be even easier next time, right?" Cinnamon''s hands move to my shaft, already stroking with insistence, pumping life back into its barely diminished length. "Whoa, whoa." Kryst chuckles. "Let''s not go hopping onto Drow danglers just yet." Kryst snaps her fingers and motions to Cinnamon to halt her manhandling. "C''mon. Hands off. Put down the dick, Carrots." I know you''re all excited and worked up but you''re already dangerously close to¡­" Kryst bends her body and lifts her arms up in a semblance of a bunny rabbit pose, even scrunching up her face to simulate buck teeth and a wiggling of her nose, "relapsing." Cinnamon''s lets go of my manhood as if it were a white-hot brand straight out of a forge. "Sorry." Cinnamon pushes out her bottom lip. "It''s alright." Kryst says, totally ignoring whatever feelings I may have on the matter. "Now you did great. You take instruction really well. Excellent focus and... have you actually had some previous training? "Training?" Cinnamon''s ears cock quizzically. "Well, whatever." Kryst shrugs, "You might be easier to teach than I previously thought." Cinnamon beams with the compliment. "But! I don''t think you are ready for a ''bucking'' just yet." Cinnamon visibly droops. "Chin up, girl. We''ll get you there." Kryst shoots her a warm smile. "For now though I have an idea. Lucky for us the boy has got some¡­" Kryst gives a little full body shake and an eye-rolling back in her head smile, "extremely impressive skills with his tongue." And since you we good enough to use your mouth on him, I think it''s only fair that he reciprocate, don''t you?" Cinnamon''s smile gets even brighter, she nods emphatically, and is out of the water and laid back into a similar position to the one that I''d been in faster than two shakes of a bunny rabbits tail. "Okay, Carrots." Kryst laughs and flutters over next to her "Now we have to be careful with this, alright? This may seem a little weird, but like before, I will need to be on the same sort of crest as you so¡­" "I''m okay. You just tell me what you need me to do." Cinnamon nods and shoots a happy closed eyed smile to the fairy. "I trust you, Kryst." (Passive) Perception: Partial Success/Fail!Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators! I see Kryst pause and she clears her throat. "Alright, well¡­" "Should I lay down some other way?" Cinnamon asks not noticing the play of emotions on the fairy''s face. "No, you''re good, Carrots. Exactly like that is fine. Just, towel off your lower regions a bit. Yeah, that''s enough. And spread your legs a little mor-- perfect. Too Tall? Let''s have you get in position." Kryst goes through her various instructions, then motions for me to get down between Cinnamon''s legs. In response, Cinnamon, with no need for prompting, eagerly lifts her legs and drapes them over my shoulders. She then looks at me with a bashful smile, a blush on her cheeks as I kneel, breathing in the intoxicating scent of her. With a buzz of her wings Kryst flutters up and alights on Cinnamon''s stomach. A flash of nervousness colors Cinnamon''s face for a moment Spoiler: Spoiler but she makes no protest as Kryst walks down to the tiny neat and naturally triangular patch of light brown fur pointing like an arrow at Cinnamon''s gorgeous glistening pussy. Like it''s a little bed the fairy lowers herself and I see her idly stroke the chinchilla soft fur like one tends to do when testing a luxuriously comfy carpet. By the look on her face, she is suitably impressed by the delightful, silky smooth texture. After sitting down and wiggling her butt for a moment with a grin, Kryst shuffles her hips lower until she''s straddling Cinnamon''s clit. "Before you get started, Too Tall, just give me a few moments." With that Kyst lowers her fingers and I watch as she circles her digits around, pulling her tiny, completely bald pussy lips open, to slowly rub at herself. She leans back, perfectly unashamed at the show she is putting on for me and, in fact, looks directly into my face with an almost challenging smirk as I crouch half a foot away. Licking her lips, her face flushes. A bit of Kryst''s fairy nectar glistens and she reaches lower, collecting and then smearing it all over the spherical bump of Cinnamon''s exposed clit. Cinnamon immediately pants, arching her back she cries out, one hand flying to her breast where she kneads at it, rolling the nipple in her fingers as she bites on her other fist''s knuckle. "Easy, Carrots, I got you, I got you." Kryst whispers. Trembling, her hands stroke Cinnamon''s nub like it''s a crystal ball. Extracting a few more squirming moans from the excited bunny babe. After a good half a minute of her gentle, nectar coating manipulations Kryst, now finished with her massaging, leans back. Squeezing her ass back and forth to hide and expose Cinnamon''s swollen button the fairy then looks up at me licking her lips and motions me forward with a finger. Taking the cue I lower my mouth with a smile, looking over the edge of my shades and at both women as my tongue slides from the bottom of Cinnamon''s folds to the top of her snatch. At the apex, I spread my tongue over her clit and catch both her and Kryst at the same time¡­ Sexual Techniques vs Cinnamon + Tongue Tricks Specialization Bonus: Success! Sexual Techniques vs Kryst + Tongue Tricks Specialization Bonus: Success! ...making each groan and close their eyes in pleasure. With Kryst positioned as she is, riding Cinnamon mound, it is easy enough for me to latch onto them both and start humming a tune. The vibration must be equally pleasing to each of my ladies because Kryst takes my nose in her hands and bucks her hips upward, while Cinnamon''s has a similar reaction, reaching down to hold the sides of my head as she rolls her pussy against my bottom lip. My tongue dances between them both, never favoring one over the other. I taste Kryst''s sweet nectar dribbling over Cinnamon''s swollen button. If the tingling delight that it delivers to my tongue is in any way translated to other body parts I feel both a bit sorry for, and jealous of, the absolute rapture that Cinnamon''s clit must be feeling. Kryst thrusting increases in its tempo. Her squeezing, gyrating ass grows more frantic, sliding back and forth above Cinnamon''s clit. I watch the ripple of her muscles, feel Cinnamon''s thighs shaking on my shoulders. I don''t feel the snap this time, but I hear and see Kryst groan, freeze stock still and then start to shudder. Cinnamon, all her trust well placed in the tiny Gleam stiffens a fraction longer in her throngs of ecstasy and I know that Kryst has stopped Cinni''s bunnification two or even three more times before I inch my mouth back, blowing and breathing hotly onto each of them. Looking up, my eyes lock onto the glorious view of Cinnamon''s breasts shifting around. With slow movements that border on reverence, I reach forward and cup the sides of the soft, round mounds of flesh that Cinnamon has now been ignoring. "That feels s-so good¡­" She gasps and moans as my hands squeeze and roll the plump orbs around. Cinnamon releases my head and takes my hands in hers, guiding them to be a bit more aggressive in their manipulations. Which I am all too happy to do. I want nothing more than to stand up and suck on those wondrous passion pillows. But I can''t ignore the sight of Kryst''s bouncing jubblies a few inches away from my eyes either. I break my lips free from both of their delectable cookies and lower my mouth onto Kryst''s, quite bountiful for her size, breasts. "What are you?! Ohh!" Kryst seems shocked at first but then grins, and lets me continue to have my fun, thrusting her chest upward in invitation. "Yeah, you''re a real fuckin melon lover aren''t ya, Brantly? You like mine? Think I haven''t seen you staring? Go on, ya filthy freak, suck ''em good." Kryst closes her eyes with a smug grin, moaning as I capitalize on my tongues almost preternatural agility to swirl and tease. Biting gently and suckling on the Barbie sized boobs. Cinnamon, finally pleased with the movements and pressure on her breasts has again taken my head in her hands. The rolling of her hips has grown more intense, however, until she is steadily grinding her snatch onto my chin. It''s then I recognize my mistake. In turning my attention to my own self-interests, the worship of the holy boob, I have started to ignore both women''s greedy pussies. Luckily, I can think quick on my feet. Or knees, as the case may be. With much heartache one of my hands lets go of Cinnamon''s breasts and I move it between her legs. Her pretty pussy is practically dripping with desire and so with my middle and ring finger extended I ease into her. Cinnamon''s muscles instantly tighten and I feel her slick walls attempt to actually pull me in deeper with eager anticipation. Somehow alerted, Kryst eyes flash open and I see her stare down at my invading digits. Kryst trembles in an increasingly familiar way. A signal that she''s keeping a lid on Cinnamon''s curse. Since the fairy doesn''t warn me to stop I push in fully, letting my thumb come to rest across Cinnamon''s and Kryst''s sensitive buttons at the same time. This was all new to me. Due to not being the smooth-talking Casanova which I now seem to be, my real world¡­ hands-on experience was quite limited. Not one hundred percent, of course, I wasn''t a total noob, but if I was being really honest, I''d firmly describe myself as ''beginner'' level. What turns women on? I''d never paid much attention to the men''s and women''s health magazines clustered at the checkout counters. Each one headlined with those very topics. However, I had done my fair share of online¡­ research. There were all kinds of ways to improve sexual enjoyment. Different positions, erotic massage, Tantric techniques, domination and submission, bondage and rope play, the lists seem endless. What were the tricks involving fingers? I don''t want to do a great job with my mouth then screw it all up by jabbing away like some rank amateur. Slowing my oral and manual manipulations I concentrate on my time cruising particular sites on the net, trying to remember anything that could improve my performance. You use Special Ability: Perfect Recall Time rewinds and I step out of the situation. No longer in the middle of a fantasy girl three-way, I''m instead sitting in my darkened apartment. Light from my computer screen illuminating my keyboard, the volume on my speakers turned low, I study the web pages and educational ''how-to'' pornographic videos that I''d never admit to ever actually watching. I grin at my discovery and my consciousness slips back fully into the moment. Cinnamon has released my head again and both her and Kryst are making little insistent moans, perhaps thinking the sudden pause in my manipulations is an attempt to tease them. "C''mon¡­ damn dirty gasho. What''re you doing? Don''t stop now." Kryst grunts in protest, becoming a little more vocal in her objections. "I don''t know if you are ready for this." I suck my teeth. Now deliberately teasing them I release Cinnamon''s other breast I bring my finger down and playfully rub the fairy''s twitching snatch. After collecting a bit of the sticky nectar I reach back up and idly smear Cinnamon''s nipple. "Like y-you could... impress me." Kryst groans, her face flushed with overt nervous anticipation. Playing it cool I give a nonchalant shrug while Cinnamon writhes under my tweaking fingers. "Okay, but remember. You asked for it." Chapter 52: Big Finish - Final Chicka wow, for now -pt4 Spoiler: Spoiler I flush with excitement, eager to put what I''ve learned into play. My mouth lowers onto Kryst and I insert my tongue while my digits twist into position inside Cinnamon. Background Skill: Sexual Techniques Specialization: Squirt Stimulation x1 Free Specialization Remaining Faster than even the ''professional demonstrations'' in the ''instructional videos,'' by following what feels to be almost instinctive movements, I easily find what I''ve always assumed to be the difficult to locate, mythically elusive, G-spot on both ladies. Increasing the pressure of my fingertips on Cinnamon I press firmly and begin to stroke with a steady come hither motion, while at the same time attempt to do the same with the tip of my tongue to Kryst. Sexual Techniques vs Cinnamon + Squirt Stimulation Bonus: Extreme Success! Sexual Techniques vs Kryst Squirt Stimulation Bonus + Tongue Tricks Specialization Bonus: Fail! Cinnamon moans with pleasure and bucks her hips suddenly and causes my front tooth to drag over Krysts delicate flower, pinching her little love button. "Ow! Watch the teeth, ya fuckin moon-cow!" A sharp pain immediately blossoms from the tip of my nose as Kryst batters it with a left and right jab like she is working a speed bag at the gym. The flush in her face instantly transforming from pleasure to anger. Luckily she pulled her punches. Clearly not wanting to knock my nose off my face but desiring to illustrate her extreme displeasure of my careless treatment of her luscious little lick box. "Sorry." I manage to mumble. More than a bit embarrassed I avoid eye contact and return my lips to task, attempting to regain the traction I''ve lost with my blunder. Splitting my attention my fingers continue to work on Cinnamon. Steadily increasing pressure, vibrating the tips back and forth on the magical spot. Sexual Techniques vs Cinnamon + Squirt Stimulation Bonus: Success! "oOoh God''s, Brian¡­" Cinnamon gasps and coo''s my name, rocket bolstering my ego into the upper stratosphere. Kryst isn''t as easy a nut to crack. She shifts about, leaning on one elbow and give me an actual snarl of frustration. "You have done this before, right? Don''t go telling me that first time was a fluke." Kryst grunts looking irritated she jumps her hips and wriggles around trying to get her satisfaction, inadvertently causing me to chase her around with my lips. "Damnit, Too Tall, I thought you were good at this." "Will you keep still!" I snap, before tongue lashing her honey pot once again. Sexual Techniques vs Kryst + Squirt Stimulation Bonus + Tongue Tricks Specialization Bonus: Partial Success/Fail! It works. Or I think it does at least. Kryst groans, leans back and props her legs over the arms of my shades and behind my ears. Still, Kryst doesn''t seem to be as nearly as fired up as Cinnamon. Insight vs Kryst: Success! Insight vs Cinnamon: Success! Timing, to prevent Cinnamon''s bunnification from triggering, is everything. My earlier misstep has caused a rift though, and the fairy''s shifting and jumping movements have had the unplanned effect of stimulating Cinnamon''s sensitive clit. Now the bunny girl is sitting up in first class of Pleasure Airways while Kryst is stuck back in coach. "Too Tall, s-stop." Kryst shakes her head looking both flush with desire yet disappointed at the same time. "Carrots is too worked up but I''m nowhere close enough." Kryst says, echoing my thoughts. She closes her eyes and looks to be concentrating, but whether it''s on my manipulations or Cinnamon''s state of arousal I can''t be sure. "This ain''t gonna work." Insight vs Kry-- Nor do I have the time to try and figure out it out. Lepuri ears being as sensitive as they are, Cinnamon''s legs snap closed on the sides on my head and squeeze like she''s auditioning for the role of the hydraulic press that crushed the T-800 in the first Terminator movie. "No! Don''t stop!" Cinnamon squeals. Wound tight she grinds on my fingers in wanton abandon. "Nuggh, C-carrots don''t--" Kryst grunts, her skin covered in a sheen of sweat. In desperation the fairy''s fingers dive under my nose to her clit where she starts to frig at her button furiously. Cinnamon is so close to her bunnification change even I can feel it. A glance to Kryst confirms my suspicions. She is trying to hold it off. Her entire body tense with the strain, but not being in a similar enough state of arousal, the fairy is rapidly failing. Desperate, I try and work myself free from Cinnamon''s crushing grip¡­ Strength vs Cinnamon Butter: Fail! ...but it''s no good. Her legs are simply too strong and with me locked firmly in place, she has taken control and is grinding toward the inevitable on my fingers. A picture of a watermelon crushed in a vice springs to mind and I panic a bit as her crazy strong legs squeeze. I try and call out a warning to the bunny girl but pinned against Krysts snatch it comes out as little more than a muffled hhumm, which causes the fairy to throw back her head and unconsciously thrust her hips on my tongue. Clamped in place, my face smooshed against Kryst, I have no other recourse I desperately redouble my efforts on the fairy, knowing I need to get her just as turned on as Cinnamon. Sexual Techniques vs Cinnamon + Squirt Stimulation Bonus: Exceptional Success! Sexual Techniques vs Kryst + Squirt Stimulation Bonus + Tongue Tricks Specialization Bonus: Critical Success! To say their reaction is explosive is an understatement. Wetness floods my mouth and splashes my chin and lips. Fairy nectar intoxication that was merely pleasant before rocks me back, smashing through my body and brain like a nitrous powered freight train.Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings. Constitution Save vs Fairy Nectar: Critical Fail! Condition: Drugged Special Effect: Aphrodisiac Character Limitation: Added Psychological Limitation: Mild Addiction to [Fairy Nectar] ¨C Occurs: Infrequently. Effect: Moderate: Character has an unreasonable compulsion to ingest a substance [Fairy Nectar] and/or engage in an activity [Sex with Fairy''s]. [+10 Character Points] You are Unconscious. Racial Ability: Lightsleep. You are no longer Unconscious. I''m fairly certain that I actually blackout for a heartbeat and when the fireworks stop popping in my grey matter I realize that reality has grown distant and muffled. I see more than hear Kryst squeal in a short cry that cuts out and turns to near-silent high pitched squeaks. It takes me another few seconds to understand that the reason the world is so quiet is because my ears have been crushed to the side of my head by Cinnamon''s thighs. She kicks, squeezes and digs her heels painfully into my back. Cinnamon''s hands, holding me in a grip of iron, shove and guide me around to maximize her pleasure. I love it! The excitement that fills me knowing that I have filled her with such fervor; that my shy, coy sweetheart has lost all self-control, it is beyond glorious. And with that, the light switch in my brain flicks on. Complete understanding dawns on me on just how Cinnamon could enjoy and even become so aroused over my uncouth, raw desire from before. Without warning Cinnamon lets out a long final shudder and her legs flop weakly off of my shoulders. I look down at both magnificent women. Each panting, twitching and trembling from the aftershocks rocking their bodies. Cinnamon with her legs spread. Kryst in much the same state. Limp and exhausted, straddling Cinnamon''s pussy. The sight is too much. I stand. Rising from the water like some kind of mythic, indigo Adonis. The magically induced euphoria is still pumping through my veins. A boiler about to explode. Pleasure built to dangerous levels of barely contained pressure. My length, so rock hard and hot that I''m sure some of the steam in the room must surely be pouring off of it. Condition: Drugged Special Effect: Aphrodisiac Wits Save: Partial Success! As eager as I am to be inside Cinnamon I manage to heed Kryst''s earlier warning. I grab hold of myself in both a mental and physical sense. Driven so close to the edge it doesn''t take long. The first blast has to be a critical hit as it splatters directly onto both Cinnamon''s clit and Kryst pussy. The second is just as in unerringly accurate and I fully coat Kryst''s tits then manage a multiple series of shots that reach up Cinnamon''s stomach to her shaking, shapely breasts. Stepping forward I drop my cock over both of their quivering pussies. Kryst''s legs are spread open so I reach down wrap them around my girth. Even in her daze, I feel her ankles lock together and the delightful tingle as her nectar smears onto my shaft. Trusting the fairy to stay in that position I lean over to bounce and fondle at Cinnamon''s now slick orbs. Sawing my dick back and forth between the outside of Cinnamon''s folds, over Kryst''s body and between her breasts as my orgasm continues to pound out spurt after spurt. Getting both fairy and bunny babe shiny with my seed. Time ticks by and sooner than I would have liked I feel Kryst''s hands lightly smacking at my lower abs that easily conveys her ''git offa me'' signal. Meanwhile, Cinnamon who has an unfocused, silly grin plastered on her face has been making a steady trilling coo noise as she lays there in a drained state, slowly collecting her wits. The glow like sheen on their bodies, their soft skin, the smell of them¡­ Temptation once again thrums through me. Condition: Drugged Special Effect: Aphrodisiac Wits Save: Major Success! Constitution Save: Extreme Success! You are no longer Drugged Closing my eyes I lean back. Bottling up my lust. I look down. Much like Cinnamon, Kryst still looks a bit out of it too; and rather comical with her legs circling my pole and her ankles hooked together. The lower half of my cock is also perfectly positioned on Cinnamon and I marvel at the way her lips puff around the outside of my shaft. Naturally, I¡¯m still turned on but I have gotten a handle on the nearly overwhelming desire that had seemed to have taken ahold of me. I don''t move away yet. Instead, with my slowly diminishing length resting across Kryst''s body, I reach down and lazily roll the fairy''s boobs around the side of my dick with my thumbs. Cinnamon eventually composes herself enough to lean up, smiling at me. "Did you enjoy Cinni-baby?" "Oh, Brian. That was wonderful!" Cinnamon giggle coos, her legs wrapping around to squeeze my hips, pulling me closer. "Hey!" Kryst complains as my sticky cock once more smears across her face. Still half-hidden, like she''s being smothered under a huge full body pillow, she squirms in a futile attempt to avoid further face bumps by my heavy meat log. Both Cinnamon and I share a look and we smirk at the humorous sight. "Alright, alright." Kryst grunts. "If you are just about done." She shuffles under my length and stares up at me with a ''bored at my antics'' look as I continue to play with her breasts. "Well? You think you can let me up now?" "I''ve made my choice." I narrow my eyes. Kryst gives a loud teeth-sucking grumble, shoo-smacks my fingers away then, like she is crawling out from under a gigantic, uncooperative boa constrictor she shoulder hefts and unceremoniously shoves my dick off of her. Eliciting yet another round of amused chuckles from Cinnamon and I. "So¡­ Do you think you could go again soon, Brian?" Cinnamon motions toward my flaccid length as the fairy steps wetly across her stomach. "I''d like to, to feel you inside of me, if you wouldn''t mind." She says quietly, her ears bending and straightening with conflicting levels of shyness and excitement. Still slick and sticky, Kryst hops off of Cinnamon''s hip, turns and makes a ''stop'' motion with her hands up at both me and the bunny girl. "Now, now. Let''s hold up and save something for later. We made some good progress today but we don''t want to go and push it, Carrots. This ain''t something that is gonna be solved with a onetime slam session." "I know, I know. You''re right." Cinnamon huffs but her disappointment quickly passes. Her legs squeeze me a bit tighter and she lets out a deep and happy sigh. "I suppose it will just give me something to look forward to for later then." The bunny girl stretches, a huge grin on her face. "I''ve been living trapped with this fear." Her smile fades, wetness brimming at the corner of her eyes. "You have no idea how much what you have done means to me, Brian." She leans forward and then stands with me in the tub. Placing her arms on my shoulders she stares into my eyes. "Thank you." "I don''t think I''ve ever meant these words more than I do right now, Cinni." I lift my hand to the side of her face and brush my fingers through her hair. "It was my pleasure." My fingers drift behind her neck and I pull her close, crushing her naked body against mine. Our mouths meet and her lips part. Charm + Tongue Tricks Specialization Bonus vs Cinnamon: Extreme Success! I deepen the kiss and she moans into me. Our tongues dancing, teasing, hers trying to keep up with mine. Cinnamon''s hands scrape over my wet scalp and she now pulls me further into the kiss. Drifting my hands down to her waist I slide them behind her to scoop up her bubble butt. Life is quickly returning below my waist and Cinnamon must feel the stirring as well, because she presses her groin into mine, hard. Moaning into my mouth. "Will you two cut it out before you go and get too wound up again!" Kryst chastises, clapping her hands loudly. "For you, it may have been all a fun frolic in the fields but remember I was the one doing all the work! Not only did I have to get off but I also needed to concentrate and stop Carrots change while doing it. Those last few took all I had left. It''s a lot easier when it''s you pleasuring him than it is him pleasuring you. Those switches come on quick." Cinnamon and I reluctantly part, and I give a quick kiss to her hands. "Are you saying you didn''t enjoy yourself at all, Kryst? Because if I recall correctly there''s some pretty damning evidence to support the contrary." I say while I grab the soap and wash a bit of the sweat off my body. "Listen." Kryst gives me a condescending smirk. "I''m woman enough to admit that you may have a few somewhat impressive tricks that made it a little bit more difficult than I thought it would be." "But Kryst, didn''t you say that you''ve never arrived that hard before?" Cinnamon says, glancing over to the fairy. "What?! I barely mumbl-- How did yo--" Kryst spin and looks up at Cinnamon, and her twitching ears, as the Lepuri girl fluffs her hair with a towel. "Well..." Kryst coughs "I don''t really recall. I mean who knows what I actually said. Besides it is a well know fact not to take to heart things said in fits of passion. I''m sure you can agree that most statements made during sex are usually just a bunch of incoherent ramblings." "So, I made you lose control of your senses?" I grunt. "Huh. I must have rocked your world even more than I thought." "No, no." Kryst says, quickly shaking her head."That''s not what I said." "That is sort of what I heard." Cinnamon pipes in cutely. "Look, I just¡­" Fighting a losing battle on two fronts Kryst glares angrily between Cinnamon and I, then stamps a foot. "Just where in the nine hells did you learn those kinds of skills anyway, Too Tall? You apprentice in a Zantorian passion house or something?" "What can I say?" Leaning over I clean my shades off with the dry corner of a towel. "When you are with a couple of scalding hot ladies like you two, it just comes naturally." I say, slipping my shades onto my nose with a smile. Charm vs Cinnamon Butter + Situational Bonus: Major Success! Charm vs Kryst Thunderfist + Situational Bonus: Moderate Success! "Awww, that''s so sweet, Brian." "Put it back in your pants, Brantly." Kryst rolls her eyes but I see the flush on her cheeks. "Now if you don''t mind, I need another damned bath." Kryst complains plodding over toward the bathtub. On the other side, Cinnamon bends over and turns the dial from the hot stone to the cleaning one. "I mean really, Too Tall? Did you have to make such a mess?" Kryst chides, holding out her arms and nodding toward her shiny, seed slickened breasts. "Yeah, sorry ''bout that. I''m not too sure what came over me. I guess I pretty was worked up myself. You both looked so good lying there..." I shrug a bit sheepishly. " I am only hum-- err elven. I suppose, not knowing if I''d get another chance, I couldn''t resist." "Well, after this?" Kryst harrumphs and makes a show of irritably splashing water onto herself, then sliding the soap over her body. "I don''t know if you will." "Not get another chance?!" Cinnamon stops dead in place, midway through her own wash. "What do you mean, Kryst? No. You''ll get another chance, Brian. Right, Kryst? I mean, we will do this again. You promised. That is what you said. That we will need to keep on practicing." Brian!" Cinnamon voice becomes uncharacteristically sharp as she scowls at me, pointing with insistence at the fairy, "You apologize to Kryst, right this instant!" "Oh, for the love of..." Kryst rolls her eyes in annoyance. "I was just trying to give him a hard time, Carrots. You know? Keep him on his toes and take him down a few pegs so he won''t go thinking he is one of the God''s gifts when it comes to woman pleasing." "Oh... Well, umm... Sorry." Cinnamon lowers her ears and bites her lip. "So... That means we will try again then? Like maybe tonight, after the party. Or you know... before? If we have time." I give Kryst a huge grin. To which the Gleam lets out a full-body sigh of exasperation. "So much for leverage." Kryst shakes her head then dives back into the tub. Chapter 53: Swear Jar The water in the bathtub is beginning to cool but is still hot-tub warm. A resemblance that''s all the more comparable now due to the scrubbing bubbles which are tingling over my skin from the cleaning stone working its magic. Cinnamon, her hair and ears now wrapped in a towel and piled onto her head, is still soaking. Giggling and cooing at the effervescent water tickling at her sensitive regions. "Ready to get out?" I say to the ladies. Delightful as the idea of staying in the now slightly frothing water is, I have a lot to do before tonight. "Not quite yet." Cinnamon shakes her head then lifts her hand to inspect her fingers. "Soon though. I''m starting to get wrinkly." Cinni, grape or raisin, you''re still just as sweet." I say, taking Cinnamon''s hand and kissing her, true enough, wrinkled fingertips. Charm vs Cinnamon Butter: Success! I hear her titter-coo as I turn to regard Kryst. Weirdly enough, even after what we''ve just done, I still feel a little awkward being naked with a couple of centerfold-hot ladies. I quell the butterflies in my belly and lean over, offering Kryst the platform of my palm as she slowly paddles about like one of those wind-up bath toys. "How ''bout you, hot pocket?" I ask, rising to step out of the tub. "I think so." Kryst breaststrokes into my hand and I lift her up. Breathing hard Kryst flickers her wings dry as I transfer her to my shoulder then move to the towel rack. I remove a fluffy green towel and begin to pat myself dry. "Can you hand me one of those, Too Tall?" Kryst says pointing at a couple of the smaller hand or face cloth sized towels hanging on the wall rack. I''m stunned for a moment. That actually sounded like a request instead of an order. If I keep this up there was a distinct possibility I might eventually get a ''please'' tacked on from the brash fairy. "Why don''t you just use that trick from before and Super Saiyan heat yourself dry?" I grab the requested towel and offer it out. "What¡¯s Super Saiy-- you know what? No. Right now I don¡¯t care about your weird Drowish what-you-call-ems." Kryst grabs the, relative to her size, beach towel face cloth and starts drying her sexy little legs. "But to answer you, it¡¯s ¡®cause I''m pooped that''s why. What little Xan I didn''t use up during our sex-capade I''d like to hold onto. As it is I''m gonna need a nap." "Yeah, I''m feeling pretty drained myself." I exhale in agreement. "I just bet you are." Kryst humphs and shoots me a devious smirk her eyes quickly flicking down toward my groin. "Nasty gasho." She adds with an accusatory purse of her lips. "That is totally not what I meant." I laugh. Though my balls do ache. "What does that mean anyway? Gasho?" "Ah, right, you don''t speak Rokujin do you. A gasho is a person who''s notorious for their loose moral fiber when it comes to things of a sexual nature. Promiscuous." She shrugs. "That type." "You called me a nasty whore?" I laugh. "Technically, I called you a nasty slut." "I''ve heard it both ways." "Well, unlike a streetwalker, or pleasure house prostitute, money need not be exchanged for a gasho. So, in all fairness, I think was a pretty apt descriptor." "Thin line, rudeness." I poke the fairy with a finger and give her a grin. "It''s not normally used in pleasant company either, so again totally acceptable around you." Kryst jibes. "Rokujin isn''t the best for swearing anyway. Fuck! Now that is a great common tongue profanity. So much versatility, and such¡­" Kryst pauses for a moment at a loss for words then makes a three, or maybe five punching motions; it''s hard to tell with the blazing Bruce Lee like speed. "Oh, I don''t like it when people go around swearing.¡± Cinnamon, shakes her head, ¡°And I certainly never liked that one." She sticks out her tongue to accentuate. "It is so harsh and... I mean it''s fine when you said it, Brian. When we were, you know..." Cinnamon''s dips her head and blushes, "but, it''s just so¡­ vulgar." "I know!" Kryst beams with a delighted grin. "That one is best used sparingly, though. Otherwise, I find it lessens the impact." While I''m shaking my head at Kryst''s analysis of the finer points of cursing, Cinnamon done with her soak, rises from the tub with a sigh and pads over, dripping water into the tiled floor. She pulls the towel off her head and lets her damp hair spill over her shoulders. "So were you both going to go and lie down for a bit?" Seeming eager to change the subject of cursing Cinnamon grabs a new towel from the rack and also begins the rather sensual sight of drying herself. "If you are I know I wouldn''t mind jumping into bed for a little snooze too." She stifles a, weirdly cute, yawn¡­ (Passive) Insight: Extreme Success! ...but, I notice the devious twinkle in her eye. An unspoken yet obvious invitation for us to join her. To steer Kryst and I in a direction where the possibility of a little hanky-panky could, and most likely would, quickly become a reality. Oooo, that wascally wabbit. Towel in hand, helpless to resist I step close and start to dry Cinnamon''s back. Her ears perk and with a smile on her face she turns and does the same to me. Soon enough our hands are both running over each other''s bodies. Towel encased fingers squeezing and teasing at tight, toned muscles and plush, pliable parts. I glance at her cleavage and marvel at the gorgeous sight of the moonshine pendant nestled there. Stark, near luminous, silver and white against her tanned skin. A trickle of water runs downs her breasts and I take the initiative, leaning over to run my tongue over her soft skin, stopping to tease and bite on her nipple.Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions. It garners me a giggle coo from Cinnamon and a tsk and knuckle-wrap smack against the side of the head from Kryst. "Will you knock it the fuck off?!" Kryst scolds. "You know, I''m fairly certain that neither Drow nor Lepuri go into heat but you two surely make me wonder. Like a couple of damn striplings just discovering sex." I smirk and Cinnamon blushes. "Aww, c''mon, Kryst. Don''t get jealous." Quick as I whip I scoop up the fairy, jokingly wipe the towel over her face to annoy her more than anything else, then pop each of her breasts into my mouth for a quick, playful suckle. "Ahem." Sitting in the lounge chair shape of my palm, Kryst shoves her hands onto her hips and shoots me a, clearly unimpressed, eyebrow raised glower. "Take my titty out of your mouth, please." Well, I finally got my please. "Whazza matwa, don''t wike it?" Talking around a mouth full of fairy breast I tease-suck a second or two longer before ceasing my shenanigans and allow Kryst''s boobie to audibly pop out from between my lips like a sweet, round bubblegum lollipop. Kryst: Sexual Techniques + Tongue Tricks Specialization Bonus: Success! "I like it just fine. But we are not having another go around." Kryst lets out a full-body sigh and fusses with her towel, drying her arms and seems to deliberately avoid my gaze. (Passive) Perception: Success! Something seems a bit off with her. Not attitude-wise. She is still acting the same as always does. My first thought is it''s simply my previous horniness altering my perception but that isn''t it. She''s definitely less vibrant than she had been before. The magical stripper-glitter glow effect the soap had on her skin seems diminished. She is still strikingly beautiful, but something¡­ She looks, drained. Her normally tight controlled precise movements are slower. Sluggish. Her hair has lost some of the otherworldly inner glow and appears a bit limp. Even her gossamer wings look less... gossamery? "Kryst? Are you sure you are okay?" "Males. All the same." She puffs, "I told you. I''m fine. Yes, it feels very good. But sometimes when a woman says she is tired she actually means it. I''m tired. And if I decide to get all sticky again, I want to enjoy it." "No, not that. I mean you don''t look... I don''t know. You just don''t seem as... bright?" "Now that you mention it." Cinnamon steps closer and touches the back of a finger to Kryst forehead and the side of her face." "What are you doing?" Kryst jerks her head, looking annoyed as she swats away at Cinnamon''s fingertips. "I wanted to see if maybe you had a fever." "I don''t need you to mother hen me, Carrots. If I''m hot it''s cause I just did a ten-mile sex run. For you I might add. And my legs are a lot shorter than both of yours." She grumpily makes to wrap the hand towel around her body. Tugging at it Kryst wobbles, nearly loses her balance and stumbles a step in the palm of my hand. "Alright, something is definitely not right with you." I say. "Not you too. I''m fine." Kryst rolls her eyes. "Maybe if you could keep your hand still." "Brian?" Cinnamon glances at me her eyes wide with worry. "You don''t think that Kryst caught something from those other fairies, do you? Like that one that seemed to be sick?" "Huh? Sick fairy? What are you talking about?" Kryst glances up. "Yeah. I wanted to talk to you about that." I clear my throat. "One of the fairys that Raven had in the cage, it looked like it was ill or something. The others weren''t treating it very nicely. They''d hit her if she got too close to them, and they wouldn''t let her near any of the food." "That is weird." Kryst crinkles her brow. I nod. "We wanted to ask you if you knew what was wrong with her but with getting shuffled to the room, and then Karabos and Crod and¡­ everything, we kept getting distracted." I glance over to Cinnamon and I can see the nervousness on her face. I reach over a hand and take hers to give a little reassurance. "You were probably mistaken." Kryst dismisses our concerns, "Fairy''s don''t usually get sick. Not saying it can''t happen but you probably mistook their antics. They were most likely playing. They do that. A lot. Fae nature and all." I shake my head. "No. They definitely weren''t playing. "If you say so." She says with an inflection suggesting very clearly that she believes me to be mistaken. "I''m just letting you know. Besides, I don''t recall seeing any sick fairy in there and if there was I would have noticed." Kryst shrugs. "Yeah, that''s kind of the thing. You wouldn''t have." I glance at Cinnamon. "The thing is, we may have... liberated her from the cage." "Wait, what?" Kryst looks between us. "You stole a fairy?" "Liberated." "Whatever." Kryst waves off the correction. "What did you do? Let her go or something?" "No, I hid her in a jar and bought her here." "A... jar." Kryst rubs at her forehead then looks up at me. Her demeanor changing from doubt to agitation and now quickly edging into anger. "Did you put holes in the lid? We do need to breathe you know!" "What kind of idiot do you think I am? Of course I did." I suck my teeth. "Well, you must have done something dumb because I don''t feel any fairys nearby!" Kryst accuses her wings buzz flicking in outrage. "So, unless she escaped, I''m sorry... ''liberated'' herself, she must be dead!" "Kryst, calm down. She''s fine I gave her some food and wat--" "Then where is she?!" "She''s right over-- Ughh!" I turn, step around my backpack and my foot squishes into something wet, foul and nearly slides out from under me. A ripe sweet pungent stench wafts from between my toes as I recoil and hop backward. Smeared across the tile are the red pear fruit and a couple of the smaller berries which I had bought into the bath, but hadn''t yet snacked on. The berries are withered and dark, seeping a maple syrup colored sticky slime. The pear is nothing but dripping mush. Pieces of the now red-black skin cling to the sole of my foot like a bandage from an infected wound. Rotten and foul. "Brian? Did you slip on-- goodness what''s that''s smell?" Cinnamon says. "Not the toilet is it? Hey, what''s going on with the privy plants? They weren''t like that before." My brow crinkles in confusion and I glance to the potted plants in the corners on either side of the toilet. The once large floppy leaves are brown and dry, some so withered I swear I see the edges actually crack and curl before my eyes like they are in some sort of time-lapse nature video. Scraping the fruit goo from my foot onto one of the wet towels on the floor I step closer to the plants. Leaning over I find the jar, now covered by a few crispy, fallen leaves. I dust them aside and peer through the glass. What looks like a dried tar coats the interior of one side. Tentatively, I reach over and shift the container when a section of the lump splits, leaking a thick oily ooze, streaked with yellow pus. Two tiny clawed hands follow, gripping the edges to crack the shell and widen the gap. The thing struggles, its movement twitching, and otherworldly wrong; violently shaking itself free from the slimy husk. Body slick from the viscous discharge of the unholy cocoon it rolls out and crawls on all fours over to the glass then presses its gray face against the clear walls of its prison. It lifts its head, wet hair hanging over a pale face. Black eyes stare up at me then a joker like grin splits too far up and around its jawline. Its body convulses and more black sludge drips between thorn-like teeth that sprout from sickly gums. It continues to stare at me. Then, it screams. If the violence of its birth was traumatic, it is nothing compared to the fury the tiny creature has for the glass cage. Twisted bat-like wings, made from tatters of membrane and black slime beat furiously as it throws itself back and forth. Slamming its entire body backward and forward with all the strength it can muster it collides with the opposite sides of its prison. The bottle shakes, tips, and one side bangs hard onto the edge of the ceramic planter pot. For a split second I think it cracks and my heart jumps into my throat. The glass holds however, and I let out a breath of relief. The horror show thing tumbles to the bottom of the jar then launches like a bullet toward the teetering edge. Bouncing the jar. Forcing it to topple end over end. I make a lunge to catch the container before it flips completely over the side... Dexterity Check: Fail! My fingers brush the edge of the smooth glass and a half-second later the telltale crash and tinkle of shattering glass echoes across the tile. Chapter 54: Blight Fight I stumble backward as it flaps into the air. With an unearthly scream it comes at me, twists around my flailing limbs as I swing wildly, try to fend it off. Dogging my steps it puts the pressure on and then, much like a scratching claws of a cat, catches me on the wrist. Pain lances up my forearm and bicep and dark purple and white veins spider web a few inches from where it has torn tiny furrows into my skin. Brian Status: HP 11 / 12 Stun: 16 / 17 (22) Mana: 0 / 7 (10) Vitality: 13 / 13 (15) Stat Drain: Maximum Mana Pool reduced by: 3 points Stat Drain: Maximum Vitality reduced by: 2 points Stat Drain: Maximum Stun reduced by: 5 points (Passive) Parkour: Fail! Slick tile and the shock of pain take my feet from beneath me and I crash onto my backside. My stomach heaves like I''m going to throw up. Shards of glass bite into my skin as, limbs flailing, I scramble back, overturning my tinkering kits in my haste. Metallic ring ting ting sound effects echo off the walls as tools and tiny parts are scattered, bouncing across the floor. In desperation my hand searches the ground around me for anything to defend myself with, firing off a silent ''Oh save me, Jebus!'' in my head. (Passive) Perception: Partial Success/Fail! The Homer Simpson-like prayer is answered and my fingers find something metallic. Bolstered by finding a weapon I whip it around. Ready to stand my ground, bravely brandishing... an inch long miniature screwdriver. I pause. Then wave my pathetic weapon at the hissing creature in an attempt to keep it at bay. It stops. Momentarily cocks head to one side, regards me quizzically its confusion clear. Flapping in place the grim pixie''s hesitation lasts only a moment. Undeterred it''s mouth stretches up in that same horrific smile. Like a miniature take on a Japanese horror movie, ghost monster, more oily black saliva dribbles over it lips and down its chin and it dives toward me as if it was some kind of terrifying jerky stop-motion animated bat from hell. "Too Tall! Get back!" Kryst darts in front of me, but appears to stumble in midair. Like Superman exposed to kryptonite Kryst clutches her stomach, lands clumsily, and retches in a series of dry heaves. The small Bizzaro world, evil fairy reorients, her attention solely focused on Kryst. Animal like the tiny creature comes at her, slashing haphazardly. No form. Messy. All rage and fury. Kryst gathers herself, feet shifting under her into a solid stance. She slaps the vicious attacks aside easily, but even though she is successful in her blocking each time the creature makes contact there is an almost infinitesimal spark at the point where their limbs meet. Kryst staggers a little more under each blow while the little nightmare fairy looks to grow stronger. Kryst''s once near luminous hair, dulls further, her skin turning sallow before my eyes. Deduction: Success! Knowledge Skill: Powers, Abilities and Magical Effects - Available for purchase. I''ve been a comics fan long enough to recognize what is happening in an instant. Like the powers of the X-men''s sexy southern belle, Rogue or the, growing ever more monstrous through the years, Superman villain, Parasite, it''s as if the evil twisted fairy is leaching the very life from my small Kung-fu companion. The nightmare fairy lowers her shoulder and bursts upward into Kryst abdomen sending her sprawling to the ground. "Kryst!" Mini screwdriver in hand I get to a knee ready to engage the creature but Cinnamon is already there. Eyes narrowed Cinnamon spins around launching a vicious series of kicks. Like I''m watching a real life Chun-Li Hyakuretsukyaku, lightning kick attack her shapely leg flashes, blurring so fast the air shimmers and seems to ignite with both light and after images. Cinnamon Special Attack: Kuani Chain Whip Kick! With the creature being so tiny, nearly half the size of Kryst, it easily evades, dodging away from a series of blows that sends one of the dried up ''toilet paper'' plants crashing aside. More kicks shatter tiles on the wall and floor. Bursts of dust and debris fly through the air. (Passive) Perception: Fail! For a moment, in the turbulence of destruction, I lose sight of the nightmare fairy. Cinnamon''s head and ears whip around searching when suddenly she cries out. Her hands go to her naked side, swatting at the creature latched there; biting and slashing with tiny hook clawed hands. It retreats from Cinnamon''s flailing fists. Diving low to the floor it spins between her legs, bee lining toward Kryst again who is struggling to stand on the ground underneath the sink. The little creature is fast. Though its main defense seems to be its small size. Trying to hit it was like swinging at a large aggressive hornet or perhaps a more comparable description, a bat amped up on crystal meth that was also emitting steady pulses of radiation. Watching its movements I wait till its committed to the charge toward Kryst and already poised to spring I leap forward to intercept. Not bothering with the tiny screwdriver tool I drop it and instead spread my palm as wide as possible and handball slap the creature like it owes me money.Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more. Instead of the satisfying flesh on flesh sting that I''d been prepared for, fiery agony blossoms in my hand like I''d seized hold of a salt crusted, gasoline immolated cactus and not simply spanked a goth freak show inspired Tinkerbell. Brian Status: HP 11 / 12 Stun: 14 / 15 (22) Mana: 0 / 6 (10) Vitality: 11 / 11 (15) Stat Drain: Maximum Mana Pool reduced by: 1 points Stat Drain: Maximum Vitality reduced by: 2 points Stat Drain: Maximum Stun reduced by: 2 points "MotherShiFlucker!" I howl, completely screwing up the curse in my agony. The move does give us all some breathing room however, as the creature is ragdoll tossed through the air. Unfortunately it''s smokey oil tar wings beat a sickly rhythm, and it catches itself before it can collide with the wall at the far end of the bathroom. I scoop Kryst up with my non-throbbing hand. "Don''t let... touch... Drains mana... life energy." Kryst wheezes. "Yeah, I got you." I fan my hand hoping that the pain will dim. It doesn''t. My stomach is doing flip flops and my head is spinning. Nausea grips my guts and I feel like him having a hard time catching my breath. This isn''t going to work. Not only was this thing hard to hit but when we did it really friggin hurt! Consequently only made ourselves weaker. I glance to each of us. Naked. Without weapons. This was a battle of attrition we were quickly losing. My hand feels like I''ve palmed the underside of a jellyfish and I see blisters and white and dark purple veins have puffed up on and under the skin. Touching this thing anymore was out of the question, but my gun was still in pieces and my sword was in the other room. I cast about for my dagger and a knife shaped object frothing at the bottom of the bathtub catches my eye. Gasping for air I look to Kryst and Cinnamon and find them doing the same, the bunny girl is holding her hip, a dark veined spider web bruise clearly visible under her fingers as well. The evil creature may be small but I''m scared of even getting close, let alone touch it. There is a soaking wet towel on the floor at my feet. "Cinni. I''ll got an idea. If we keep it distracted, think you can get to my dagger?" I motion to the bath. Cinnamon glances into the water, gives me a quick nod and a "Mmhm" of affirmation. "Good." I bend down and pick the soaking towel up at the edges. "Seems this thing has a real mad on for you, Kryst." I grin. "Guess it can''t be all bad, eh?" "J-jerk." Kryst struggles to her feet, a smirk on her weary face. Setting her shoulders her wings flicker as she pushes herself. The strain of effort clearly written in her trembling limbs. "I''ll... bait the hook. Don''t screw up." With my nod Kryst takes off, straight at the other fairy who like a funhouse mirror reflection responds with the same. Playing a fae version of chicken they speed at each other. At the last moment Kryst rolls to the side, jinks in a tight arc. Behind me Cinnamon darts over to the pool and I hear her splash into the water. Like a bat chasing a dragonfly they tear around the room. Even weakened Kryst is a much more maneuverable flyer and the evil fairy has to ignore everything else just to keep up. Kryst reverses direction and I see my opportunity as the creature flaps it''s tar and smoke membraned wings clumsily to slow for the turn. I spin the wet towel by the ends in my hand and throw it out like a net, twirling with a flick of the wrist. It arcs beautifully, spreading out and landing over the creature with a wet sloping sound, sticking to the ground. The towel bulges, shifts slightly but doesn''t move much as the nasty thing struggles underneath of it. Using the momentary respite I take a Recovery. My shortness of breath lessens a tad but besides that small bit of relief I barely feel any different. Whatever leaching effect this thing has afflicted us with it seemed taking a quick breather wasn''t enough to nullify it. Brian Status: HP 11 / 12 Stun: 15 / 15 (22) Mana: 0 / 6 (10) Vitality: 11 / 11 (15) The centre of the towel darkens, the cloth rotting and dissolving before our eyes. I barely have time to cry a "Look out!" before the weakened cloth tears and the tiny monster flaps free once more. The evil fairy''s eyes lock onto Kryst who is on the floor behind me, gulping down breaths of air. The short flight having severely strained what little endurance she had in reserve. Like a shark tasting blood in the water the nasty creature moves in for the kill. Turning I snatch a towel from the rack wall and slap the end into a puddle. Swirling the cloth about I''m instantly transported back to my high school locker room. The damp end of the towel snaps out. A whip-crack splits the air followed by a screech of pain. A huge welt rises on the horrid creature''s hip and lower back and it twists in the air, darting about in an attempt to make itself a harder target. ¡°You wanna piece? Come get some, fern gully!¡± I shout, waving the towel to attract it attention I place myself directly in front of Kryst. Knowing it can''t get to the fairy without going through me it sneers angrily and reorients. Darting back and forth. Searching for a weakness in my defense. It''s attention is now squarely on me. The towel whip cracks the air again. A miss, it seizes on the opportunity and hawk like swoops in for an attack. I side step, retreating. Barely duck under the slashing claws and roll back up to my feet. I glance over my shoulder to see Cinnamon, bare breasted, slow motion burst out of the water. Spraying sparkling droplets like she is in the theme song opening to an anime Pulling the towel back I''m already coiling it with a helicopter swirl motion of my wrist, tightening the material in preparation for another follow-up attack. It dives. I attempt to backpedal again, but my shoulder collides with the wall behind me and I''m stuck. Too close! My towel whip''s rendered useless. "Oh shi-ARrgG!" Pain shoots up my neck as it scratches me again. Brian Status: HP 10 / 12 Stun: 13 / 14 (22) Mana: 0 / 4 (10) Vitality: 8 / 8 (15) Stat Drain: Maximum Mana Pool reduced by: 2 points Stat Drain: Maximum Vitality reduced by: 3 points Stat Drain: Maximum Stun reduced by: 1 points That same feeling of foul sickness grips my stomach but I''m better prepared this time for the sudden belly heaving shock. Without looking down I slap both hands together and grip the now tightly wound, folded towel and swing it like a short length of knotted rope. Re-Action Triggered! - Special Ability: Pistol Whip! It slams into the thing and though I doubt I injure it much the blow does send in careening away. This time it does slam into the opposite wall. It sticks there for a moment, and even tumbles down a foot or so like a gross, tar coated, wall-crawler toy. I thank my lucky stars for the recent purchase of my new Special Ability and that whatever game-rule laws govern this world allowed its situational use. The creature shakes its head and I recognize the look of stunned shakiness on its face as it attempts to gather it''s wits. The blow obviously doing more than I initially thought. For a scant second I think will have the opportunity to capitalise on the brief interruption in its manic attacks. No such luck. It recovers faster than I would''ve thought possible and erupts into movement. Flying at my bare chest. "Brian!" Cinnamon shouts. The dagger is spinning toward me tossed by her deft hand. Twisting to side step the deadly talons of the fairy I snatch the blade from the air. The sharp edge sings as I twist, slashing. An erie inhuman shriek pierces my eardrums and the evil creature tumbles to the floor, a vicious gash running from thigh to shoulder. One wing flops around, like a dying insect. curling and crawling about on its own. Pinpricks of red in its black eyes pulse with rabid madness. Pain, desperation and hunger twisted into insanity drives it forward. It''s single remaining wing flings the creature from the ground its near fatal wound spraying black blood. Arms reaching, jaw overextended, lips pulled back exposing black gums and its thorn like teeth searching for my throat. I try to dodge but I''m too late, with its missing wing its movement is to erratic to predict. Time crawls, my Lightning Reflexes allowing me to see every ghastly detail in slow motion. The first small gear slams into its side, where the kidney would be. The second embeds itself midway through his chest. A face that is transforming from fury to shock takes the third and final thin metal wheel. Slicing through the jaw it sends the top of its head and its long greasy hair over my shoulder as it body slaps, painlessly into my chest. Stunned, my eyes wide I glance to Cinnamon standing in the thigh high water. A glistening naked, playboy bunny goddess. Hand still extended from her pinpoint accuracy hurling of the tiny shuriken like cogs that lie scattered on the tile about the edge of the tub. Then with a wet sucking sound the creature stuck to my chest falls, plopping onto the ground at my feet. Chapter 55: Consequences "Mother puss bucket! What the hell kind of freaky ass mini-me grunge-ring reject was that thing!?" It takes a bit of concentration to keep my knees from knocking together or folding up and dumping me onto the floor completely. "It''s a Blyght." Kryst lets out a cough. "Blight?" I wring out my hands, flexing my fingers to get the last of the numbness out of them. "Blyght. Emphasis on the ''y.''" "How is that any different from what I said?" Sitting upon my shoulder, wrapped in a dry face cloth blanket, Kryst ignores the clarification question. "As for what it was? Blyght''s are fairies that have suffered some form of magical corruption. Enough that it''s twisted their very essence into a sort of antithesis of what they should be." Kryst is shivering as if she''s freezing. The normally near fluorescent coloration of her hair and eyes has faded to a washed-out magenta. Even her dragonfly-like wings hang limply from her back. The shimmering, rainbow iridescence replaced with a foggy, dull gray membrane. It''s been a few minutes since the creature was put down, and it''s taken us that long to get our stomachs and breathing under control. Kryst seems to have taken the worst of it. Followed by me and then Cinnamon. "It''s a perversion. Fairies are the essence of... " Kryst pauses. "They create. Breathe health, enrich nature. Whether that be flora or fauna, fairy''s bring life wherever they tread; or wing about, as the case may be." Kryst looks up with a precocious, yet slightly sad, smirk. "There''s a reason why all fairies are female you know." "There are no male fairy''s?" Cinnamon pipes in from the doorway. Now no longer caught up in our previous lusty fervor that adorable bashfulness of hers has quickly returned. She''s slipped on a pale baby-blue shirt, probably from my wardrobe as it seems to have a male cut to the design. Tented out over her chest and hanging just long enough to teasingly cover her gorgeous, naughty little nookie, the tantalizing outfit makes her look even more sexual. Like she is getting ready to lounge on an animal skin rug in front of a fireplace for a playmate centerfold shot. "Not a one." Kryst answers. "At least not any that are birthed on the prime material plane that is. If you do see a male fairy you can bet gold that they made a deal or managed to slip through some kind of rift or portal directly from the FaeWylde." I tighten the towel around my waist also feeling a bit aware of my nakedness after the fight. Cinnamon glances over but then averts her eyes and dives into her pack, pulling out and placing on the floor what I now recognize as her Herbalist kit. "You remember my talk from before, yeah? How fairy''s can, and do, restore balance to nature?" "The way my head is pounding right now?" I manage a pathetic smile. "How about I lie I say that I do." "Well, what you were saying about the other fairies not liking that one now makes sense. A Blyght is like a parasite. They leach Mana from their surroundings. Consume it. And so as a consequence just like their name suggests wherever they go pestilence follows. Plants, wither and die. Animals and people get sick. The land itself can get corrupted as they draw the essence from everything around them." "So is this something that happens naturally to fairies? Or some kind of disease? She seemed a little sickly looking, but to turn into¡­" I indicate the oily mess on the floor. The corpse of the fairy is bubbling, dissolving in front of our eyes. Judging by the speed of its liquefaction it wouldn''t be long until it''s nothing but pooled sludge staining the white tile. "How did it change into that thing?" "It''s not a natural occurrence. Technically, anyway." Still shivering, Kryst looks up. "Areas with high levels of chaotic energy or where powerful necromantic residue exists. Places where the elemental planes have been weakened, where the land has been so twisted by calamity that the rules of nature no longer apply. War-torn battlefields where death has occurred on a massive scale, you know, magical wastelands and cursed earth. Those are the sorts of places that Blyghts may spawn as a sort of unnatural ''natural'' phenomenon." "So what caused this one to go all horror show freak of the week then?" Moving about the room I collect my scattered tools along with the various springs, cogs, screws and assorted pieces and pile the lot back into my bags and tinkerers kits. "It must have been some kind of magical catalyst, but we are definitely partially responsible." Kryst rubs her chin with finger and thumb in thought "Us? What do you mean?" Cinnamon straightens from where she is bent over her bag. "Our little frisky frolicking fun time. Sexual activity. I told you both before. Copulation is a powerful thing. The joining of beings. Opening those gates. Evoking a connection to the spark of life." "Wait, this thing became a monster... Because we got jiggy with it?" I boggle. "Definitely." Kryst nods. "Kryst? You said cursed earth." Cinnamon glances between us both. "Are you saying what happened to her¡­ was because of¡­ me?" At her thighs both hands are wringing at the edge of her shirt, crumpling the material, her big brown eyes full of worry. "Because of my curse?"This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there. "Don''t fret." Kryst regards Cinnamon with an unusually compassionate look. "The corruption had already taken root in her. She was going to turn no matter what. The outpouring of Mana from each of us simply sped up the process. In fact, we probably saved her a lot of time in pain-and-suffering. I don''t imagine it was a very pleasant experience for her." I step over to Cinnamon and give her a reassuring hug. Squeezing her tight. We don''t linger long and pull back and indicate her side trying to move the subject along. "How is your side? I saw that it scratched you." "It stings but it doesn''t hurt too much." Lifting her shirt slightly over her hip she winces then spreads that same salve she had used on my hands back at the lift onto the dark bruise where the Blyght tagged her. The small catlike scratches quickly disappear, however, the dark veining stays. Cinnamon pouts and dives into her bag again. Retrieving her leather arm and leg guards she pulls a few small potion bottles free from the various loop holders. Glancing over Kryst does an immediate double-take as her eyes lock onto one of the glass tubes in particular. "Carrots? Is that a Mana potion?" "Yes." Cinnamon nods. "Sometimes I need to use them as ingredients for--" "Girl, I will suck your clit for that thing." Cinnamon''s ears stiffen and her eyes go so wide I''m surprised they don''t pop out of her head. "That''s not¡­ you don''t have to¡­" The bunny girl ducks her head glancing my way. Cheeks and ears tinged with a fierce blush she passes me the indicated vial, the contents glowing red. "You can have it. I am afraid it''s not a very strong one." "I will take what I can get." Kryst is already waving her hands at me in a ''give it here'' motion. I uncork test tube size bottle with a thumb and hold it steady for the Gleam who drinks it down like a person dying of thirst. Color flushes her hair immediately, her limp crinkled wings, curled at the edges straighten and begin to unfurl. A bit of that beautiful rainbow sheen returning. "Oh damn. That''s good Mana." Kryst leans back against the side of my cheek a bit out of breath, wiping the back of her wrist over her mouth. When she sits forward and her eyes open, sure enough, a touch of that molten fire has returned. "Feeling better?" I ask. "Much." Kryst shrugs off her blanket and flicks her wings. "If I hadn''t been so weakened already I could put up more of a fight, but dealing with that thing with so little oil in the lamp really knocked the ship out of my sails-- what are you doing?" "To be honest, I''m not sure." Leaning over I inspect the body of the Blyght. It''s all but gone now, leaving a foul ooze and a cloying sulfurous smell to the air. Using the flat of my dagger I scrape the remaining condensed sludge from the now brown stained tile into the empty vial. A drop of the red Mana potion clinging to the inside of the tube bubbles and smokes briefly as the viscous fluid touches it. I re-cork the vial and give it a quick Analysis Vial of Blyght Blood: Magical Component This foul substance contains concentrated Void energy and might be useful in spells and rituals that require necromantic components or in crafting items with magically disruptive properties. "I''m not trying to be disrespectful or anything, but we have no idea what''s going on. Maybe this could be evidence or perhaps could come in handy down the line. Either way, I don''t want to just leave it here." "I suppose you have a point." Kryst says, "Wouldn''t do to have anybody stepping in it. I seriously doubt that it would brighten their day." Climbing to her feet she glances down at my arms. "Speaking of looking under the weather, how are you doing, Too Tall." Following Kryst''s indicated gaze I glance down to where the Blyght had touched me. My forearms and fingers actually look thinner, the once deep midnight indigo skin is tight and ashen. The white and purple spider web of veins around my hands and wrists have faded a little, I think, but the entire area is still painfully tender. "Hey, Kryst? That thing wasn''t poisonous, right?" "I have antitoxin!" Cinnamon immediately holds up a couple of bottles. Kryst shakes her head. "Don''t waste them. There is no venom or anything which needs to be neutralized in the wounds." That was good news at least, but I feel so weak and feeble. Physically drained. My skin is clammy. I cough and manage to push down the sneeze tickling at the back of my sinus cavity. Groaning as my nostrils clog with mucus. Then a horrible thought crosses my mind. "Did you say that these things spread sickness? It didn''t have... I dunno, the plague or something, did it?" "Nah." The Gleam shakes her head. "Along with sucking away Mana their touch is more of a vitality leeching. Which means you would be more susceptible to external stimuli like poisons, contracting a disease or wound infections; but we should be fine." A Constitution drain?! No wonder I feel so friggin sickly. If this world operated like most role-playing games did and your main core stats were ever reduced to zero that usually meant straight up death. If so, these little monsters were super dangerous. "If we''d encountered this thing out the wild there would probably have been other nasty creatures drawn to the corrupted environment around it. Plague Rats, Undead, Rotyughls and Filth Feeders. Things which could exist in a twisted sort of symbiosis with it." I take it back. Having one creature lower your stats and another follow-up with disease-transmitting attacks or special abilities that requires some sort of Constitution saving throw to negate? Talk about bolstering a challenge rating. Dangerous definitely wasn''t the right term, downright deadly is more like it. "The life-draining effects of a Blyght are temporary. Still, it''s a good thing we put it out of its misery when we did. If that scuffle had continued much longer¡­" Kryst''s eyes dart toward the brittle, dried up plants in the corners of the room. "Most of the supplies that I have on hand are only good for simple herbal remedies. But I may have something that can help with raising our vitality." Opening a pouch the Lepuri girl shows off what appears to be a couple of dry, rust-colored, garlic bulbs. "These are usually used to increase one''s resistance to poison for a short time by bolstering a person''s fortitude. You just grind them up and sprinkle a bit into food or drink. Based on what you are describing Kryst they should help us recover faster." Cinnamon dips her head. "It does cause a mild sense of¡­ intoxication though." Passive Insight vs Cinnamon Butter: Fail! "Carrots." Kryst grins. "You are fast becoming my favorite person. That''s perfect. In fact, that''s exactly what we need." Flicking the tip of my ear to get my attention Kryst points down the hallway. "Too Tall? I saw a couple of bottles of wine on the snack trays out there. Why don''t you go grab ''em. We have some drinking to do." Chapter 56: Day Drinking "Done!" Kryst slams the empty shot glass onto her table with a gasping intake of breath. "Another to me!" She snorts, the tint of inebriation coloring her cheeks. "I think I''m going to start calling you Too Slow!" "It''s not a competition." "Clearly!" Sporting a huge grin Kryst settles back into her tall, high backed chair and throws her feet up onto another. "I told you already, I''m not playing. So you don''t have to shooter every drink. Besides I''m still working on this setup of yours anyway." I indicate the toy bed and the other assorted furniture that I''m arranging on the top of the table. "Which I''d be done with by now if you didn''t keep interrupting me." Cinnamon and I had moved the heavy red-wood card table from the communal lounge into the larger of the two bedrooms, sliding it underneath the window. The bowl of fruit that had been sitting in the center has been pushed near the edge and nearly all the flowers and plants we could find in the apartment now take up the majority of the tabletops real estate. "There is one more. How are you making out, Brian?" Cinnamon calls from the other room. "Awful! I''m killing him three to one!" Kryst yells back before I can open my mouth. "Oh... I meant with the bed." Stepping into the room Cinnamon has the last plant in hand. It had been hanging near the front door, and like most of the other leafy decor, is coated with sweet-smelling blossoms. "I thought we weren''t gonna play the clothes off drinking game?" "Nah, it''s just drink for drink. A good thing too. By now I''d have his skin." "She is the only one playing." I say maneuvering the jewelry box trunk onto a small towel that has become an impromptu rug. "He''s only saying that ''cause he''s losing." Cinnamon shrugs and holds out the pot. "Okay well, here you go, Brian." "One second." I make space. Moving the fruit bowl and large platter of snacks to the side. Cheeses, biscuits, sliced vegetables and a bottle of deep purple-colored wine; opened and poured into crystal glasses for each of us. "Oh, Brian. Doesn''t that look nice. It''s like a little bedroom in a forest." Cinnamon coos admiring my handiwork. "Thanks, Cinni." I try not to grin too broadly as I take the plant from her and slide it into place. "Doesn''t look too bad, eh?" Artist: Extreme Success! Setting up scenes and dioramas for gaming was something that I always enjoyed. And although this one is immensely oversized compared to my usual 28 mm and 32 mm sized battle maps, I think I have done a good job on its arrangement. One of, if not, my best in fact. Pretty damn proud of the display I pull up a chair and take a seat to admire my handiwork. Kryst''s extravagant king-sized toy bed is surrounded by fragrant foliage. Even the sunlight spilling through the window, and the occasional chirping of birds from outside gives an almost Disney-like magical ambiance to the fairytale bedroom set. Along with the snack tray, a small carved wardrobe, chest of drawers and even a jewelry box sized trunk; most likely from a pricey dollhouse or toy set, had been delivered to the room for the Gleam while I had been relaxing in the bath. As Morren promised, like the wardrobes and dressers stocked for Cinnamon and I, each piece of the fairy''s furniture is stuffed full of posh-looking clothing. Most likely designed for rich kids dolls. I can only imagine how many stores, or perhaps even affluent children''s toy chests around the city have been raided to have so quickly amassed such a collection in such a short period of time. Drinking and watching me do the ''heavy lifting'', Kryst sits in a nook to the side of her custom bedroom at the table and chairs I had purchased for her; quickly resized for her comfort. The adjustments had taken less time than I''d thought, most likely due to the significant bonuses granted by the tools in my top tier tinkerers kit. Passive Insight vs Kryst Thunderfist: Success! Though casually lounging, and doing a pretty good job of hiding her excitement, I can tell the Gleam appreciates my efforts. Shooting glances toward the bed as if counting the minutes until she can cocoon herself under the covers. "So what do you think, Kryst? Not too shabby?" "It''s alright, I guess." She shrugs, picking idly at the fluffy cloth robe she had found in her own wardrobe. Still attempting to fake disinterest she pings the edge of her glass with a flick of her fingers. "Hey, Carrots? Think you can gimme a reload here?" Cinnamon, ever pleasant and eager to please, tops up my nearly empty glass, Kryst''s, and then her own before she chooses a thick celery stick from the snack platter. After a crunch crunch crunch on her vegetable stick, she takes a swallow of her wine to wash it down. I do the same. Rolling the sweetness of the strange dark purple liquid in my mouth. Vitality Save vs Alcohol (Wine): Fail! Condition: [Drugged] Special Effect: [Inebriation] Inebriation Level: [Buzzed] [Wits: -1] - Duration: [1 Hour] Brian Status: HP 10 / 12 Stun: 14 / 14 (22) Mana: 2 / 4 (10) Wits: 12 / 13 Vitality: 8 / 8 (15) The additional nutty flavor from the ground up spice Cinnamon has stirred into the wine leaves a delightful aftertaste lingering on the tongue. I''ve taken a second mouthful before I realize and revel in the warmth spreading through my body and limbs. A tingling sensation stirs a few goosebumps over my skin, quickly chased away by a warm flush. Amornel Nut (Spice): Effect: [+2 Vitality] - Duration: [3 Hours] Secondary Effect Vitality Save vs Amornel Nut (Spice): Fail! Condition: [Drugged] Special Effect: [Aphrodisiac (Mild)] [Wits: -1] - Duration: [3 Hours] Brian Status: HP 10 / 12 Stun: 14 / 14 (22) Mana: 2 / 4 (10) Wits: 11 / 13 Vitality: 10 / 10 (15) This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it. While I revel in the pleasant feelings of the wine chasing away the aches in my joints and the stuffiness building in my sinuses, Kryst slams her drink back like she''s at a frat house party. Again. I study the fairy as she wipes the back of her hand across her mouth. She still looks exhausted, but her eyes are dilated and her skin, which had taken on a sallow tinge, has now become flushed. Insight vs Kryst Thunderfist: Partial Success/Fail! It''s more than apparent that she''s feeling the effects of the alcohol, but the way she is looking at me with those sidelong glances suggest something else. She licks her lips, eyes lingering on my chest. And then they drift lower. Getting hungry looks from the gorgeous Gleam, starts affecting me as well¡­ Condition: [Drugged] Special Effect: [Aphrodisiac (Mild)] Trigger: Psychological Limitation: Mild Addiction to [Fairy Nectar] Wits Save: Success! ...but I force whatever mirrored feelings she may be stirring up, back down. The drinking. The lusty looks. I guess the corruption of the fairy, and being forced to kill the poor thing, cut Kryst deeper than I thought. It''s no surprise that she is looking for a bit of an escape from that inner turmoil. "Kryst?" I clear my throat unsure of how to broach the subject. "The little fairy before¡­ I mean the whole situation. How it happened. What she turned into. It was a pretty terrible thing to witness." "Can''t say it was an experience I see becoming a fond memory anytime soon." "Do you wanna talk about it?" Kryst boggles for a moment. "Huh? Talk about what?" She holds her glass toward Cinnamon for a top-up. "It''s just that¡­ I''m sure it wasn''t easy on you." "Yeah." Cinnamon finishes the refill and steps back, placing a hand on my shoulder. Presenting a unified front of concern as we look to the fairy. "I can only imagine how you must feel." Kryst stares up at the both of us as if looking for some trick. After a pause, she shakes her head. "It was sad, yes. And I intend to find out just what happened. But as for how I feel? You don''t have to worry ''bout me. I''m a big girl." She says with a warm smile, "Relatively speaking." "Alright then, no pressure. But if you do need a shoulder to lean on--" "Or an ear." Cinnamon smiles, her ears bending. "Yeah, Yeah. I hear you. I''ll let you two knuckleheads know if I ever feel like blubbering." Kryst jokes. "Don''t get your hopes up though." Tipping her drink up to us we clink our glasses in a toast. "Still, don''t you think you should take it easy on the liquor?" I say as she comes up for air after chugging her ''bucket'' of wine. "No." Kryst lets out a belch and shakes her head. "And neither should you two if know what''s good for you." "What do you mean?" Cinnamon sits back on the edge of the bed, daintily sipping. "Messed up as we got in that scrape, our tolerance is most likely in the outhouse. A bit of a blessing. It means that we should be able to get sloppy enough even on this excessively sweetened swill." She makes an overly dismissive hand wave to the nearly empty bottle. I thought it tasted rather nice. "You want us all to get drunk?" I take another taste myself and shiver a little. The warm buzz of intoxication becoming more apparent. I''ve never been much of a drinker and my skin feels warm. More sensitive to the touch. Even the light brush of my pants rubbing me feels uncomfortable... in a pleasant way. "Of course. Libations lower your natural block''s. It allows for a more open-body pathway connection to the ambient Mana swirling around. Hence all of our internal Mana will recuperate at a much faster rate. Why do you think wizards are always puffing away at them pipe fulls of Dreamweed? Same thing. Actually it''s better, but alcohol does the trick too." Kryst lets out another little burp. "If you''re sloshed enough that is." Turning around in her chair Kryst looks back over her shoulder. "And then if I go sleep in the bushes bedroom that Brantly built." Kryst snickers at her alliteration. "Will this really help you recover faster?" Cinnamon, leans over to check out the bedroom set again. Pulling back the covers on the bed she tests the softness of the mattress and then smooths out the sheets with a finger. "I hope so." Kryst says, her words starting to slur. "When fairies rest it''s better for us to sleep in a tree hollow or even a large flower bud or something. Long as I''m more or less surrounded, it should be good enough to help get my strength back." "How exactly does that work?" "Fairies have a symbiotic relationship with nature. When we''re weak, or low on Mana, the surrounding plant life attempts to balance out the umm... the deficit." "But when a fairy is full of Mana, the opposite occurs and¡­ and whatever is around kinda, gets the benefits. And that''s without them even realizing it either, you know? Plants, animals, people. Your Magi-tech type stuff... and Mana crystals." Kryst gives a little too exaggerated rolling hand motion. "Of course." I nod. Memory and glimpses flooding my mind. "That''s why the Fairy Roost is so important on Airships. To keep the Mana Crystals and sigils charged." It''s so weird. Things that didn''t make sense before now click into place. My growing instinctual background knowledge and expertise in skills like Magi-tech now starting to fill in the gaps regarding the world. Topics and details that had done nothing but prompt questions before. "Right. Like, take Too Tall. He''s not a magic user like a real wizard, but we''ve seen those few little Mana manipulating fix-it tricks of his... like the one he fooled you with, Carrots." Kryst giggles a little and Cinnamons ears tint with a blush. "Or items, like a magic weapon, that draw on a body''s Xan-- Mana to use." Kryst says, seeming to lose focus on the topic. She then puffs out her chest and turns toward me. "I''m sure you''ve noticed how invigorated you feel the longer I''m around." "Invigorated?" I can''t actually say if I''ve noticed. This body has felt pretty amazing ever since I arrived, and we met Kryst soon after that. Compared to the old me it has always felt like a superhero upgrade. Except perhaps for now. After the Blyght encounter, I feel like I may be coming down with a cold. Though that too has waned over the past hour, and the wine certainly seems to be helping. "Yeah. Energetic. Well, that is my natural aura increasing your Mana recovery." Kryst''s voice takes an annoyed tone, "Your welcome." "Oh? Is that what that feeling is? I figured I''d sat on a splinter or something. Cause it certainly feels like a thorn pricking straight up my ass." "You know what you can do for me, Too Tall?" Kryst grins broadly. Skin flushed and eyes a little glazed, she spins in her seat and whips a portion of her robe back to expose a toned thigh and a good portion of firm butt cheek. Which she immediately smacks. "Pucker up and kiss mine." Condition: [Drugged] Special Effect: [Aphrodisiac (Mild)] Trigger: Psychological Limitation: Mild Addiction to [Fairy Nectar] Wits Save: Success! "Done that." I smirk, extremely tempted to take her up on the offer. Cinnamon lets out a long, overly dramatic laugh-sigh that cuts an odd break into the playful banter. "Oh, you two and your jokes." A weirdly uncomfortable silence descends and after a too-long pause Cinnamon clears her throat. "So, were you kidding? Or did you really want to¡­?" Cinnamon lets the question hang, glancing at me and then at Kryst''s still slightly exposed bottom. "Hells below, Carrots." Kryst rolls her eyes and plops back down. "You better leave your pants off." Indicating with a finger how Cinnamon is still only wearing one of my shirts. "Cause if you tried to cover that crotch of yours right now, I''m pretty sure the cloth will burst into flame. Fwoosh!" "Kkkkryst!" Cinnamon coo complains sweetly. Ears dipping she glances at me with a shy smile that has me glad I''d at least had taken a couple of minutes to pull on a pair of trousers to hide my body''s inevitable involuntary reaction. Damn she looks so cute in my shirt. And look at those legs... A clatter from the table quickly pulls my eyes away from Cinnamon''s thighs and I blink as the room wobbles a bit. Kryst sucks her teeth as her shot glass rolls away from her under her table and she fumbles around at it with her foot and calf trying to scoot it out. "Looks like your sloshed enough. I think it''s time to cut you off." "What?" Kryst makes a ''pssshh'' sound as she grips her glass and hauls it up, banging it noisily onto her table. "I''m fine. Don''t get your undergarments all knotted up." "Did... Did you just tell me not to get my panties in a bunch?" I smirk, finding the idea a bit more humorous than I would have thought. The wine really is quite good. "What the hell''s a panties?" Kryst arches an eyebrow at me. "But whatever it is, it sounds funny. So... probably." "You have never heard of panties? Women''s underwear?" "Like, chest wrappings?" One of Cinnamon''s ears cocks cutely. "No, not really. More along the lines of bikini bottom booty shorts and lacey lingerie than bra bandage strips." I correct. "I dunno what that is. But by that dopey grin on your face, I''m guessing it''s more of that pleasure house stuff." Kryst shakes her head like I''ve done something wrong. "It''s not... Well¡­ Maybe it is, but I mean, you don''t have to be a prostitute to wear lingerie. It''s for fun. Or to feel sexy¡­ I guess." "oOoo!" Cinnamon coos obviously intrigued, "It''s sexy? Is that something that the Playbunnies wear, Brian?" "Uhh, yeah all of the time. Its kinda one of the things they are known for wearing. Lingerie. That and naked..." "I''d like to try some! Do you think that there is any in the wardrobes?" Cinnamon turns and heads towards my standing closet, opening drawers and poking about. "If there are there they wouldn''t be in my closet, Cinni-buns." I say leaning over and checking out the way her ass is peeking out below the edge of the shirt as she bends over slightly. "Lingerie and panties are just worn by women." I suppose that technically wasn''t true, but-- "It all sounds very interesting, except y''know, completely the opposite." Kryst clumsily stands, knocking her glass over again. This time she doesn''t bother picking it up. "So while you two girls go on and giggle about your dresses I''m gonna go get some sleepys." "But, you know? If either of you need to wake me up for... anything." Kryst nods seriously to the both of us. "Don''t." "Okay, I''ll go and check my closet." Cinnamon says in an excited voice, ignoring Kryst she hop-skips from the room. Kryst shakes her head at the bunny-girl then turns to saunter shakily toward her bed. Midway she drops her robe and looks over her shoulder at me as I stare at her naked body. The wine and horny heat quashing any apprehension I may have felt in lecherously checking her out. The Gleam, obviously having no objection to my ogling, leans over the edge of the bed giving me a delightful view. Keeping her eyes on me, and clearly trying to be seductive, she slides forward. Then, one hand catches in the folded comforter and she tumbles, face-planting into a pillow. Laughing she flops around. With my own smirk I reach over and untangle then lift the silky sheets. Allowing her to twist about and climb underneath. Wriggling her butt to get comfortable she turns and smack-fluffs a pillow. "Thanks for my bed and stuff. It looks real nice. Dunno why I didn''t tell you that before, Brian." Kryst lays her head down. Pushing it into the pillows with a smile. She closes her eyes, clearly relishing the feel of the bed. "You''re a nice guy... you know that?" "Oh! Is this lingerie?" I hear Cinnamon call from the other room. "Cinnamon too." Kryst says hearing the bunny-girl. "I know, I can be¡­" She makes a blowing angry sound and slaps the pillow with a loose fist. "Gettin'' close? I jus'' can''t, y''know?¡­ it''s too hard¡­ I''d wanna stay wif... " Kryst murmurs, already drifting off. The alcohol swirling through her system dragging her toward unconsciousness. "you an¡­ Carrotz." Standing, now a little shaky myself I notice, I tuck Kryst in with a couple of fingers then lean over and give her a peck of a kiss on her shoulder and neck. She doesn''t object and even gives a sighing smile. "Rest up, nuisance." I whisper. "Ookay." She bobs her head deeper into the pillows, without opening her eyes. "Brian?" "Yeah?" "C''n you close the plants, pleasez?" "Sure." I can''t help but smirk as I slide a pot around to obscure Kryst in a domed shell of leaves and flowers. "An don''t... do anythin naughty¡­ wif out me." Chapter 57: Panty Raid "These are all expensive clothes, and lingeries must be really expensive if they''re made entirely out of lace, right?" "Well yeah, I think they are. Expensive I mean." Cinnamon rifles through the various outfits. Lifting all sorts of overly embroidered gowns and ruffled dresses out by carved wooden hangers, presenting them up for my inspection. I shake my head at each. The closest she''s come to finding lingerie is a rather elegant blue corset edged with turquoise and a pair of undergarments, which fits my personal description of bloomers to a tee. "As for what they are made from, is not a rule or anything that they have to made of lace. I mean I''ve seen all sorts of materials used. Cotton and linen, but the sexier outfits tend to be made out of stuff like silks and leather." Cinnamon is getting annoyed, sucking her teeth as she searches in vain. Trying to match any items to my descriptions of all things risque, from push-up bras to garter belts and babydolls. Booty shorts and g-strings. "Lace is just what I usually think of, I guess. And bright colors... like blues and greens. Purples. Mostly red though." My eyes wander around the room and the word tilts ever so slightly, my vision playing catch up. I''ve finished off my third, or is it fourth? glass of wine and have been enjoying the pleasant heat and sensitivity that its bought to my skin. I still feel weaker than my new normal from our battle with the Blyght, but the cold-like symptoms I''d had are just about gone. Instead, I feel loose. Happy. And just a little bit little light-headed. Vitality Save vs Alcohol (Wine): Fail! Condition:[Drugged] Special Effect: [Inebriation-Stacking Effect] Inebriation Level: [Tipsy] [Wits: -2] + [Stun: +5] - Duration: [2 Hours] Ongoing Conditions Amornel Nut (Spice): Effect: [+2 Vitality] - Duration: [2:45 Hours] Secondary Effect Condition:[Drugged] Special Effect: [Aphrodisiac (Mild)] [Wits: -1] - Duration: [2:45 Hours] Rejuvenating Soap: Effect: [+2 Allure] [+1 Mana Point]- Duration: [7:30 Hours] Brian Status: HP 10 / 12 Stun: 19 / 14 (22) Mana: 2 / 4 (10) Allure: 25 / 23 Wits: 10 / 13 Vitality: 10 / 10 (15) There''s a confidence in my guts and I gaze at Cinni as she huffs cutely, jamming a dress back in the wardrobe. She then leans over to pull open a drawer. Her frantic searching has caused the shirt she''s wearing to hitch over her fluffy bunny tail as it twitches in agitation, allowing a glorious, teasing display of her tantalizing bottom. "I guess they don''t have any." Cinnamon stands and jams her crossed arms under her breasts in discontent. Seeing her dismay I push off of the wall I''ve been holding up and sidle over behind her. Pressing my body close to breathe in the lavender scent drifting off her hair and skin. Cinnamon coos a little as I wrap one arm around her waist to hold her tight and push my groin against her firm bubble butt. Looking over her shoulder I nudge a few of the hanging outfits around, using it as a pretense to grind against her body. "Yeah, I guess it would be a long shot." It really did suck. I¡¯ve never had a girl wear lingerie for me. If anyone had the body for it it was Cinnamon. My mind wanders as I try and picture it. Gripping the drawer I slide it open a touch more, idly lifting some of the folded clothing. I wobble my head a little, grinning at the slowed-down vision. A flash of red catches my eye. "Hold on." My fingers hook the edge of delicate lace and, as I dig it out, I can''t help but lick my lips. ¡°Hey, Cinni-buns¡­?¡± ******* "Brian? Is--is this how it is supposed to look?" I''ve gone back into the larger bedroom while Cinnamon has been getting changed. Waiting eagerly. My imagination running wild on just how delicious she''s going to look in the nearly hidden, tucked away lingerie I''d found. I''m not disappointed. Sex in mortal form steps into view around the edge of the doorway. Lava hot, with more than a few healthy spoonfuls of sexy meets slutty in the design, Cinnamon could easily be modeling the newest Valentine''s day line in a Victoria Secrets or Fredericks of Hollywood catalog.If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. The plunging V of the top dives belly button deep. Crisscross straps lift and plump breasts that were already formed from fantasy to a state of perfection that even computer edited, airbrushed plastic surgery can''t match. Bright red lace just transparent enough to give a hint of dark nipples underneath. All hugging skin so smooth it makes satin jealous. She turns, and if the front wasn''t enough to get me standing at attention, the view from behind actually makes me lean over in an attempt to release the painful pressure strangling the snake in my pants. Under the garters clipped at her thighs, her athletic legs are wrapped in spider-silk sheer stockings. My eyes lock onto her peach-like ass, marveling at the way it hides the thong, the only visible material consisting of a tiny decorative triangle just below her twitching bunny tail. Cinnamon looks over a shoulder and her auburn-tinted chestnut hair falls away from her neck, catching the sunlight pouring from the window, highlighting her with golden edges of shine. "Brian?" Cinnamon bites her lip, looking nervous at my lack of response "Am I wearing this correctly? It was a little confusing to put on." "Yeah¡­" I finally manage to stutter, trying to get moisture back to my suddenly dry mouth. "Yeah, you¡¯ve got it on right, all right." Cinnamon perks up as her fears lessen. "I think my legs look really nice in these... high-heels shoes? But it feels so strange walking in them." It could easily be her bunny rabbit balance compensating, but if she was at all unsteady wearing the shiny six-inch red leather pumps I would have never have guessed. As far as I could tell the way she moved one would think that she''d been strutting around in stilettos for years. "Do you like it?" She licks full cherry lips in that shy demeanor that has my Johnson threatening to rip free of its cottony confines. Did she put on makeup? The dark mascara and glittery eye shadow certain seems to confirm my suspicions. "I mean... do I look like one of the playbunnies in this?" "Playboy bunnies, penthouse pets. Centerfold or supermodel. Cinni-baby, you make all of them look like day-old leftovers." "Pets?" Cinnamon squirms and her already dilated eyes expand even more. "You''re not just saying that, right? I don''t look stupid, do I? " "God girl! You are killing me. If you can''t take my word for it, how about him?" I motion with my eyes to the straining bulge between my legs. Still squirming in place, her eyes lock onto my crotch like the targeting laser of a drone strike. "If it''s that uncomfortable..." Cinnamon bites her full lower lip, "Do you... want to take it out?" (Passive) Insight vs Cinnamon Butter: Success! She is just as horny as I am, maybe more so. I know what she wants me to say. It''s written in her posture, in her shortened breath. The swell of her breasts straining at the, slightly too small, therefore expertly sized, push-up bra. Lust takes control of my tongue. "You made it like this." I nod my head at my groin. Leaning back on the bed I motion her forward with a curling finger. Then, in the deepest, sexiest bed-room voice I can muster, growl, "You do it." Charm vs Cinnamon Butter + Situational Bonuses: Extreme Success! Biting her lips, squeezing her legs together, Cinnamon takes a single step closer, then in a shocking move that makes my breath hitch, sinks to her knees and crawls over to me on all fours. Bunny tail twitching above shifting butt cheeks, breast swaying seductively Cinnamon slides herself over my thighs until she reaches my waist. With my pants so tight, my length bunched and tucked she struggles to release the Kraken. It bounces free with such force it almost seems like it might fly right off my body. Cinnamon takes the hot smack to her lip without complaint. What a trooper. Now exposed, free from his prison, Gargantua swells. Somehow, inconceivably, growing harder and jumping in time to my heartbeat. "Feel what you do to me." It''s not a question. Cinnamon swallows and takes the queue. Since one hand alone is now unable to circle me completely I tell her to use both. "Look at me, Cinni. Tell me how it feels in your hands." "It''s big... and heavy." Cinnamon''s wide eyes look up into mine. "And hard." "And why is it like that?" Cinnamon pauses, shyness heightening her sexy. "Well?" "Because of me." "Why?" "Because¡­" "Say it." "Because you find me sexy¡­ and I''m... your pet play bunny..." She is gripping me harder. Emboldened not slowing in her steady her double-handed pumps. Her words, the feel of cool air on my length, the feel of her fingers around me. I groan. My skin is flushed. Hot. Sensations heightened to an unnatural level. Even my already impressive girth seems enhanced. Where her fingers touch my skin it feels hot and tingly. Then burning cold. Like she is running an ice cube made of fire over me and cooling it with a breath freshener mint. What the hell? I''ve been turned on before, and though not very often, drunk too. And I know that something isn''t right here. What is it? I have never felt anything like what my body is experiencing. I''m too hard. Too sensitive. Too... Deduction: Success! "Cinni. Those herbs you ground up. Are... they an aphrodisiac?" Cinnamon bites her lip. Her skin is flushed, her chest rising and falling. Breasts teasing and tantalizing in their half-covered lacey state. "Umm. Maybe a little. It''s a bit of a side effect. But they really are good for bolstering a person''s constitution." She says in a hurry, "Mixed with food it can be used to help prevent poisoning too." Crap! No wonder I wasn''t thinking straight. Not only was I tipsy from the alcohol but I''m hopped up on some kind of Spanish fly Viagra too! And if I was this turned on¡­ Damn my stupid ass¡­ I kick myself over and over, trying to shove the lust back into the bottle. What was Cinnamon thinking? Insight vs Cinnamon Butter: Success! No. I know exactly what she is thinking. She''s starving and my prize-winning eggplant is just the starter on the all you can eat Brian buffet. Pun totally intended! However, she isn¡¯t looking to fill up on that particular appetizer course. Oh no. She fully intends to manipulate me until I give in and she rides me raw. She has me literally in the palm of her hand, and she knows it. But, without Kryst and her sex magic manipulations it''s just too risky. "C-Cinnamon, we can''t." Flushed, pulsing, a tad drunk. Definitely drugged I try and recollect my senses. ¡°Baby, stop...¡± Condition: [Drugged] Special Effect: [Aphrodisiac (Mild)] Wits Save: Fail! Her hands pump at me faster now, her eyes glued to the motion as if trying to commit the image to memory. A look that''s easy to recognize as it the same one that is surely written on my face as well. "Don''t you want me too?"Cinnamon looks up at me with bunny rabbit, puppy dog eyes. "I thought you liked it." "You know¡­ that''s not the reason." I groan, the wall of resistance steadily crumbling with each twisting stroke. Wanting nothing more than to concede to the centerfold model beauty literally begging to blow me. "Kryst said not too¡­" "I''m fine. Really! We don''t need Kryst. I know how to do it now." "Understatement of the friggin century." I mumble. Bashful yet with prideful tint, at my implication, Cinnamon glances up and smiles. I reach down to cup the side of her face, trying to get her to see reason with a soft gentle touch. Cinnamon coos a little and pushes her head to rub her cheek into my palm, then she twists. In less than a second, she maneuvers her mouth to suck my thumb between her lips. The shock-wave trembles up my arm, across my chest and back down to my groin. Feeling me jump and pulse in her hands Cinnamon bobs a bit faster on my thumb nibbling on it as she stares into my eyes with unspoken promises, Examples of what my other, more sensitive body part, could be experiencing. I glance over at Kryst''s plant igloo. From the little bedroom completely hidden by leaves I can hear the tiny snort and wheeze of the Gleam snoring in her stupor. Condition: [Drugged] Special Effect: [Aphrodisiac (Mild)] Wits Save: Fail! "Okay," I surrender in a whisper, "But only for a¡­" I get no further as apparently, that''s all the approval Cinnamon needs. Releasing my trapped thumb from between her soft lips her head lowers, and her tongue laps at the underside of me. The aphrodisiac coursing through my veins skyrockets my sensitivity up to eleven. A rush of heat sparks over my skin like an electric current. "God, Cinni. You''re so good." My eyes roll back as her tongue starts to travel upward... "Good girl. Good--" Chapter 58: Art and Crafting Satin rips as Bunnimon continues her tirade. Sharp teeth and tiny claws open a tattered gash in a pillow. The wound sprays arterial goose down feathers that bathe one corner of the bed in white. Scampering in a tight circle she slides across the slick bed sheets. As the feathers kicked up in her wake gently waft through the air, Bunnimon focuses her rabbity rage onto another pillow. It deforms with a whumpf as she bounds into it. I can''t blame her frustration, seeing as my own is still painfully rock hard and now re-tenting my trousers. Still, even through the torment, the sight of an angry bunny charging like a rhino into a pillow wall to disappear in an ensuing avalanche of fluffy softness, does make me chuckle. A machine gun thump thump thump tempo echoes off the wall as Bunnimon''s rear leg blurs, kicking furiously at her newest feather stuffed foe. I leave her to vent, turning my attention back to my Magitech kit, Tinkering tools, jewelry, crystals and the wide variety of pieces and parts now spread out onto the table. My inflamed libido is making it difficult to concentrate. In my heart I know we were lucky that Cinnamon transformed when she did and not mid-session while¡­ ahem... deep into sexual impropriety. However, the aphrodisiac induced high and teased to the edge haze she elevated me to is anything but pleasant. I need to calm down but even my go-to of clowns and snowmen have transformed into sexy imaginings of half-dressed Harley Quinn costumed porn stars and giggling, bikini clad ski-bunnies playfully engaged in snowball fights. I shake off the visions. Last time when I tried Crafting time passed in a dreamy state. I just hope that proves to be the case again. With a few breaths to steady my focus, I picture what I want to accomplish in my mind then pick up, what my innate character knowledge identifies as, a small scrim file. The calming zen-like state of creativity slips over me and my fingers move on autopilot. Selecting tools and tiny parts. Measuring. Etching gold rings and crystal shards. Fitting pieces so small and delicate that even with my super keen elf eyes I need to use a specialized set of tweezers and magnifying glasses from my kit¡­ Crafting: Downtime Activity ********** I only realize that I''m finished with my latest project when I lean back and unconsciously reach for my empty glass. Apparently having polished off the last of it in nursing sips as I had worked. The pleasant buzz from my earlier drinking is now gone and seeing as I''d replaced the wine with water soon after I''d started, it has not returned. Thankfully the mind-numbing need to ''get bizzay'' has receded too, and the python in my pants has also slipped into slumber. Pushing back from the table, I rub my eyes under my shades then glance to my pocket watch, pleased to hear the reassuring tick tock tick signifying it was still working. While Crafting I''d needed to measure the resonance timing of a couple of the crystals and it was then that I noticed it had stopped. Apparently at some point during our fight with the Blyght the minuscule amount of Mana that had breathed life into the gears had been sucked away due to the creature''s magic leaching aura. And so, much like an unwound stopwatch, it had come to a sudden halt. The worry that it had been irreparably damaged had pulled me from my Crafting dream-state but all it took to fix the clock was another single drop of the viscous Mana enriched oil from my kit to the inner workings of the device and then I was back at it once more. Glancing at the time, sure enough, just over three hours have passed. An hour and a half for each item. The exact amount of time I recall the construction was supposed to take from my previous character point expenditure planning. On the bed Cinnamon has now reverted from Bunnimon to sexy humanoid and is passed out face down in a pillow. I keep quiet, trying not to make too much noise. Letting her enjoy the plush mattress and, slightly damaged, expensive sheets. I''m feeling a bit fatigued also. The overall excitement of the day taking its toll. Unsurprising. After all, it had been a rather long and eventful one till this point. I''m tempted to curl up and spoon with my Cinni-bun''s but I want to make sure I get any other preparatory tasks finished before something else comes along to distract me. And Cinnamon was one hell of a distraction. On the table in front of me are the two devices I¡¯ve completed. One much larger than the other. Earring of Whispered Words: [Magitech Item] When worn these earrings can be touched allowing the wearer to send whispered messages to other linked earrings; as long as they are within the range of a quarter-mile. [Bonded Item] (Fairy Sized) Earring of Whispered Words: [Magitech Item] When worn these earrings can be touched allowing the wearer to send whispered messages to other linked earrings; as long as they are within the range of a quarter-mile. It''s strange, the descriptions are so similar with only minor changes, but I know the second is the cheaper character point cost ¡®Duplicate-Accessory Item.¡¯ This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. Another thing I find weird is that even though the earring I have crafted for Kryst is ridiculously tiny, especially compared to the human jewelry sized one I¡¯ve made for myself, there seemed to have been no special requirements or additional difficulty involved in its construction. It was as if whatever game mechanic crafting system which allowed me to make them in the first place simply did not take into account the size difference. Only the point cost of the item. I''d wanted to make one for Cinnamon as well, but by my estimation, the Gala would be starting in a little over an hour. I simply did not have the time. My rationale for making one for Kryst first was fairly simple. If the three of us did need to keep in contact or to pass any messages quietly Cinnamon''s super-sensitive ears, or a Kryst on her shoulder, would be enough. From the dome of vegetation on the table Kryst lets out a tiny snore-snort. The comical sound makes me grin. I¡¯m tempted to peel back the leaves and wake her. To surprise her with her newest gift, but more importantly to make sure she''s feeling better and make sure that our plan worked. The bruising on my arms has faded to little more than a dark patch on one wrist. So if Kryst is indeed recovering faster in her little green fortress of solitude my hope is she will be back to 100% when she finally decides to grace us with her presence. I pause, chewing on my thoughts regarding the regenerative rate and Mana imparting talent of fairies. It seemed that people and creatures could have abilities that operated in a similar fashion to how my ''Shadow Meld'' racial ability worked. By having various situational qualifiers attached to them. If I was designing the ability Kryst described for a role-playing game how would I do it? Something like, ''Regeneration - Only while resting surrounded by living vegetation'' would work. The always-on Mana boosting aura that all fairies possessed was a little harder, but still not that difficult to quantify. ''Extra Mana Recovery ¨C Only usable on others. No conscious control. Only when uninjured with full Manapool.'' (Passive) Deduction: Success! Whoa! The thought rocks me back in the chair. The more I think about it the more sense it makes. Was that how everything was made here? With either improvements or restrictions applied to increase or decrease the point costs price? That seemed to ring true so far. At least by my observations related to my own Character point spending. Did everyone in the world spend points? Kryst and Cinnamon have never made any mention of points or levels or any sort of game mechanics, so if they do it must be some sort of unconscious trigger. It makes sense that I as a quote-unquote, Player Character gets to peek behind the curtain. So to speak. I glance over at Cinnamon in contemplation, gears turning in my mind. The sight of her long shapely legs and perfect bubble butt enhanced by the red thong and garters immediately stirs awake the beast below my belt. The wine and drug-induced sensitivity may have waned but even so, I can''t help but stare at her sleeping form. Eventually, I manage to pull my lustful male gaze away from her smoking hot bod and take a closer look at the outfit she''s wrapped in. The materials used in the lingerie''s design were a little different from what would be found in the ''real world.'' Much like the medivalized satchel bag I''d made for Kryst. That''s not to say that either were sub-par in any way. Quite the contrary. As far as the lingerie was concerned, it may be only a fraction of the fabric needed to create an actual dress but the delicate stitching and the hours of meticulous work that must have been involved to create the lace and form-fitting sheer material is mind-boggling. The craftsmanship on her red stiletto heels is just as extraordinary as the rest of the outfit. Even with the glossy sheen, I can tell it is true leather, not some faux pu-leather replacement usually found on most shoe store shelves. Shined with oils and skill. Fashioned into footwear by a master cobblers'' hands, not machined in an automated factory or thrown together in some third world country, cheap labor sweatshop. Just as Cinnamon hypothesized I too come to the same conclusion. Producing such an outfit here would be reserved for the more affluent members of society as surely only they could reasonably afford it. If one could look past the inherently sexual nature of the clothing they would see the same thing I did. Art. The rest of the clothing in the wardrobe was obviously of a higher quality than the standard attire I''d seen the general populace wearing, but I''d not seen a single piece that could compare to the¡­ extravagance of the lingerie. Cinnamon rolls over sending feathers spilling to the floor and one full breast nearly escapes its lace prison. I take in the centerfold scene again and smile as I recall Cinnamon''s reaction of wide-eyed wonder when I''d presented the sexy set of underwear to her. It was rather peculiar that after all her searching Cinnamon hadn''t found it herself. After all, she had been pouring through the clothing and drawers in her closet like she was looking for the final clue in an escape room. Why was it then that I had stumbled across it almost immediately? Did I pass some kind of Perception check? Or was there something more to it. I wonder if¡­ Deduction: Success! My own wardrobe is in my peripheral vision and I turn toward the corner to look at it. Studying with my Analytical eye. (Exceptional) Men''s Wardrobe: Some of the finest clothing and fashion accessories have been collected into this standing closet. In addition to the assorted outfits contained within, up to ten mundane articles may be retrieved with a value of no more than 50 gold apiece. [10 point Accessory Item Pool- Limitation: Clothing or Fashion related Bonuses and/or Abilities Only] [Uses Remaining: x10] No way. My stomach tightens for a second then I''m on my feet and through the door into the other room. I look at Cinnamon''s wardrobe. Analyzing it too. (Exceptional) Women''s Wardrobe: Some of the finest clothing and fashion accessories have been collected into this standing closet. In addition to the assorted outfits contained within, up to ten mundane articles may be retrieved with a value of no more than 50 gold apiece. [7 point Accessory Item Pool- Limitation: Clothing or Fashion related Bonuses and/or Abilities Only] [Uses Remaining: x8] Three points from the Accessory Item Pool and two Uses gone? Did I create the shoes and lingerie the same way I''d done with the satchel bag I made for Kryst? If so why didn''t Cinnamon simply do the same? I pace around then return to the larger bedroom. That she had no clue what lingerie was could have played a big hand in it, I suppose. Peering over a Cinnamon I attempt to Analyze the lingerie but since she is wearing it or has possession of it I can''t seem to get a read. I guess I could just wake her up and ask her to take it off. The beast below my belt stirs. No. Even prepared for her that could easily lead to other things. And as pleasant as that idea was I had theories that required testing. Inspiration strikes and I snatch up my Adventurer''s Backpack. I recall that I only have x2 Uses remaining. Concentrating for a moment to imagine my desire I reach in and pull out a... (Basic) Artist''s Toolkit: These specialized tools are used to assist in the pursuit of a craft or trade. [Art]: This kit contains an assortment of basic supplies such as paints, brushes, charcoal, chalk, inkpot, quills and a small leatherbound sketchbook. Hustling back over to the table I quickly pack away my various tools, clearing off a bit of space. With a picture set firmly in my mind''s eye, set to the task. Chapter 59: Artistic Intentions Artist: Fail! The first sketch comes out all wrong. Scribbles and out of perspective wacky proportions. The stress of failure makes me grit my teeth and I flip the page angrily. On the bed, Cinnamon''s ears twitch. Artist: Partial Success/Fail! The second comes out a bit better. The quality miles above anything I''d ever sketched before. Still, it''s nowhere near what I want. The basis of the idea I am attempting to convey is there but the overall image is inherently flawed. I need the picture to be perfect down to the smallest detail. Damn! I tear out the first few ruined pages and crumple them in irritation. Alright, let''s break this down. Think of the problem in game terms. If I''m somehow unconsciously rolling for skills, and operating on the assumption of a 3d6 system, a skill of 11 or less, baring bonuses and penalties, will yield a success rate of I believe around... 60% most of the time? Yeah, I think that is right. That is if my powers of past munchkin-ness can be trusted. Should I assume that I have to roll for every skill use and interaction? Surely that can''t be the case. Nearly every game I''ve ever played the rules are there to augment the narrative not crush it in endless dice rolling. Either way, there was another detail that I had noticed during my Crafting preparation. Some things required a minimum skill level. For example a skill of at least 12- and 13- in both Inventor and Magitech to craft my Earings of Whispered Words. That observation suggests that a Target Number ''Passive'' skill system could also be in play. Usually, during a session, the GameMaster requires players to roll whenever they are actively attempting to push for an outcome. ''Can I tell if the king is lying?'' Go ahead and roll me an Insight check. ''I''d like to use the clothesline as a tightrope.'' Sounds like an Acrobatics roll to me. Naturally, game systems that incorporated Passive skills all had their own variances tailored to their individual rules, however, a good general rule of thumb was that it allowed a GameMaster to settle the outcome of a scene or scenario without requiring a roll from the player. This was usually based on a character''s average skill level compared to a preset Target number. They could be used in all manner of situations. A character such as Sherlock Holmes, for example, would have a Passive Investigation so high that he would notice some clues without even trying. The GameMaster could just spout out any details below a certain Target number and move on. Tarzan''s Passive Climb and Acrobatics would easily allow him to brachiate through the jungle without ever having to touch the dice. In a somewhat ironic way, Passive Skills could even be pointed at as a rules explanation for the ¡®Rule of Cool.¡¯ If this world utilized a similar approach my current skill level must still be too low to passively auto succeed at my endeavor. And therefore, since I''m actively attempting to use my Artist skill I am simply failing the roll. I suppose I could keep making attempts and hope I pass, however, most systems did not allow players to repeatedly try the same task over and over again until they magically succeed. Deterrents could include things like stacking penalties, a loss of resources, exponentially increased time between attempts, even just straight-up failing to succeed no matter the roll. One usually had to wait for either a certain period of time to pass or for a drastic change in the situation to have been made. (Passive) Deduction: Success! I lean back in my chair and run my fingers through my long hair in thought. Confident in my sound reasoning and the fortuitous timing of the recently increased levels in my Deduction skill. I still had a couple left over character points that I¡¯d not yet spent. Like the one I''d been saving for the earing for Cinnamon. As valuable as a cell-phone like earpiece would be the sort of educational rules testing I have in mind is just as important, if not more so if I plan to truly understand and deal with the idiosyncrasies which governed this world. With a focus that is growing easier with each attempt I go over the details I need to know. Was I still injured? Are any of my core stats still affected by the fight, the alcohol, Cinnamon''s roofie, or anything else? If so how were they recovering? Did I pick up any new Skills or Special Abilities? How many points do I have remaining to play with? I slip into my Jelf trance, back out again then... You use Special Ability: Perfect Recall Brian Status: HP: 10 / 12 Stun: 22 / 22 Mana: 5 / 10 Alure: 25 / 23 ( 4.75 Hours Remaining) Wits: 13 / 13 Vitality: 15 / 15 Alright! Everything looks pretty good. Sure enough, I still have some aches and pains, which would track with my lowered Hit Points but overall it seems that I''ve nearly fully recovered. Wait? What is going on with my Allure? Oh, I know what it must be the ¡®Rejuvenating Soap¡¯ we''d all used. That tracks. I just figured the girls were looking extra gorgeous cause of all the horny. I give an internal grin. Guess we will all be looking a bit hotter than normal for the next few hours. Wits and Vitality must have both taken some hits but it looks like they are thankfully back to normal. I probably should have checked to see how low they''d dropped. Yet in one way I don''t want to know. I''m guessing they tanked fairly badly judging by how clear-headed and healthy I feel now compared to only a few hours ago. Free Background Skills: Knowledge: Monsters 13- >??cost to raise: 2 pt Cooking 11- >????????cost to raise: 2 pt Artist 11- >????????? cost to raise: 2 pt Specialization? Miniature Art? I boggle for a moment. Did I waste some sort of selection because I unconsciously utilized past skills while resizing the furniture and building the bedroom set for Kryst? Uggh! I groan. Then I notice the next entry. Sexual Techniques 11- > ??cost to raise: 2 pt Welp. Looks like I ended up using up my last Free Background Skill after all. For a fraction of a second, I''m a little bummed that I''ve done so, that is until my brain catches up and points out the glaringly obvious point that being a toe-curling bad-boy in bed is not a bad skill to have. Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit. Especially with a couple of lava hot ladies like Cinnamon and Kryst around. However, I will need to be careful not to randomly get some useless Specialization by mistake. I suppose that did mean background skills could be tailored a bit more. Although they did seem to be based on skills I had previously possessed. Or at the very least ''topics'' that I''d done... ¡®research¡¯ on. It seemed each one allowed for three more focused Specializations too. That was a good key bit of knowledge. Still. Miniature Art? When am I ever going to use that again? Special Abilities Available for Purchase: Iron Will: lvl 1 ¨C (Passive): You have a stronger will than normal. [+2 Wits] bonus on Wits and Fear based Saves and [+2 Mental Defense] vs Psychic and Abilities/Effects. (Time Limited Purchase: 22 hours remaining) Cost: 3 points Looks like I have managed to pick up a new Special Ability too. Awesome-sauce! It makes sense with the recent trials that these two have subjected me to. Looks to be a fairly good one. Not too expensive and gives me some type of Mental shields. I check out how many remaining points that I have left to spend. Character Points: 19 Hole. Lee. Crap-Ola! Where the hell did I get 19 points! Hot Diggity Damn! That Blyght must''ve been worth some crazy experience. I actually feel bad for the burst of joy that washes over me regarding the killing of the poor transmogrified fairy. But, maybe some good could come of it. I think back to my earlier Character point spending trance and the Special Abilities I have yet to purchase. FlashBang Shot: lvl 1 ¨C (Action): The Gunslinger may fire their weapon close to an opponent''s head imposing the blinded and deafened condition for a short time. Cost: 5 points Gunslinger Swagger: lvl 1 ¨C (Passive): The Gunslinger has [+5 Presence] only for Faceoffs, Presence Attacks, or similar situations. Cost: 3 points I could actually afford both of the Special Abilities I had to pass up before. Should I get them? The Iron Will is tempting, especially with a Time Limit on it. I go over details. Mulling pros and cons until I decide on what my point spends will be. Concentrating again, I pop in and out, spending points in¡­ record time? I check my watch. Three minutes! I''m getting good at this. A wave of energy pours through my body as I take a breath. I feel fantastic! The slight fatigue in my muscles is completely gone, replaced with an active strength. Not like a fake caffeine-induced rush. This is pure, clean inherent stamina. I know what it is and had even expected to feel a bit of a change. I wasn''t prepared for this level of ''oOmpf '' though. The encounter with the Blyght had left me with concerns. If we faced another of those creatures or something similar that hacked away at core stats like Constitution-eer Vitality then it might be best to be a little more prepared. With that mind, I¡¯d dropped three points into Vitality, which raised it to18 and four points on Stun, rounding it up to a respectable 30. Brian Status: HP: 10 / 12 Stun: 30 / 30 Mana: 5 / 10 Alure: 25 / 23 ( 4.75 Hours Remaining) My biggest spend, I dropped six points on Artist taking the skill to 14-. I''ve always wanted to be an artist and it is a bit of a risk using so many points up at once but I figure it would help out when it came to things like blueprints or Magitech designs later. Also, by raising it to such a high level, and if my munchkin-calculations are correct, that should take the skill up to around a 90% success rate. In optimal conditions. There was something else I had noticed before I had come out of my point spend trance. A pop-up in the fraction of a second after I''d spent the points that I didn¡¯t have time to read. I do a quick double check with Perfect Recall. Artist 14- (Current Max Allowable Skill Level Reached) Well, that is interesting. It seems that a skill level of 14- is the highest attainable level that I can reach. At least for now, judging by the word ¡®current.¡¯ Is it that I can only spend a maximum of 6 character points to raise a skill? My Charm is a 15- but that is based on my maxed out Allure. I''m positive I hadn''t seen any ''Max Skill Level Reached'' notation on that particular skill, and Artist doesn''t seem to have a core stat that is connected too either. That could be puzzled out later. For now, I run through my last expenditures. Just because I couldn''t resist any longer ¡®Gunslinger Swagger¡¯ had claimed three points. I''d justified the purchase to myself by focusing on the fact that we would be headed into a social situation at this party tonight and if the confrontational exchange with Karabos and his puppy secretary was any indication, it might come in handy. If I was being truly honest though, it was simply because, the very sexy Captain Raven had made an off-hand comment, and damn if it didn''t sound hella cool to actually have the trait she accused me of possessing. Unfortunately, that meant I didn''t have enough points to pick up ''FlashBang Shot.'' A shame, as I really would have liked to acquire all the Gunslinger Special Abilities. Which left me with a total of three Character points left. As good as I feel I''m tempted to go back in and spend them. Increase another stat or two? Level up Charm to test if it can go higher. Sexual Techniques, perhaps? I physically shake my head. Ironically having to use my own un-augmented iron will to not slip back in and purchase ¡®Iron Will.¡¯ By my reasoning I still had until tomorrow to decide on it that one and since I still need to make Cinnamon''s earring it was probably better to keep a few points in reserve. Reaching over I pick up my sketchbook, still in awe of the new feelings of endurance flowing through, what I considered an already a high-performance Ferrari body. Except now, it''s like nitro has been fuel injected into the engine. I''m fairly certain I could run a marathon. Cross country hike for miles. I feel pumped. Powerful. I feel¡­ virile? I glance over at Cinnamon on the bed, the sun is low in the window as evening approaches. She''s beautiful, bathed in a glow of radiance. Innocence mixed with erotic as she sleeps. The contrast raises her to another level, and the beauty I see now begins to stir a different kind of passion in me. One that I''ve felt many times before... You use Special Ability: Perfect Recall In a heartbeat, I''m twelve years old, at a park bench. Sketching in a lined notebook while pouring over the dog-eared copy of ''How to Draw Comics the Marvel Way'' which my father had picked up for me at a yard sale. I don''t dwell. Instead my focus switches and¡­ I''m in class. Figure drawing to be precise. Held Wednesday evenings at the local art gallery, before my crappy work schedule had forced me to drop out. The model is skinny, posing in the center of the room with a sheet wrapped around her lower body while the teacher points out the fabulous underlying bony landmarks and musculature. More moments flow and I know what is happening. This time search it out, embrace that pleasurable rush of something taking hold, igniting a part of me that I can only describe as my soul. Skill: Artist Specialization: Drawing x1 Free Specialization Remaining Back in the bedroom charcoal touches paper. The soft scraping sound becomes a melody. Whispered intensity builds as control over pressure variance I''d always dreamed of but never possessed becomes more and more apparent. My thumb smudges in a shadow and without thinking I swoop a darker curve overtop. And like the artistic magic in watching Bob Ross paint, form and three-dimensionality suddenly take shape on the slightly rough paper. Artist + Drawing Specialization Bonus: Extreme Success! My hand flys over the page, charcoal and chalk blurring as I crosshatch in tonal variation. Skills I''d witnessed in others pour out of me. There is no thought to it, no second-guessing of the lines. I''ve turned the book horizontally, moved into another page. Artist + Drawing Specialization Bonus: Extreme Success! Cinnamon shifts on the bed. I drink her in. This time I let the art take shape almost on its own, unhurried. On and on the pages flip as I keep going, filling them. Again and again. (Passive) Artist + Drawing Specialization Bonus: Success! I''ve always wanted to be an artist. Not the passable character artwork I wowed friends with. No, I wanted to create what I considered real art. With proper perspective. A firm knowledge of layout and composition. Figure drawing. Color theory. Light and shadow. How to lead the eye and tell a story with pictures. The ability to add real depth to a flat, two-dimensional image. To work on a sketch and see not a somewhat similar rendition of what I had been attempting to capture but instead what I''d pictured in my head, bought to life on a page, fully realized. (Passive) Artist + Drawing Specialization Bonus: Success! I lose myself in the purity of it and only pause when my vision clouds. The back of a finger wipes at my eye to clear the annoyance keeping me from my work. I stop. Stare in confusion at the moisture gathered on my knuckle. I''ve always wanted to be an artist. It had been a pipe-dream. I tried for years and although I had indeed developed a modicum of skill it was nowhere near the level I''d need to make a living with. The hint of talent I''d attempted to nurture had always little more than an ember. Now, I have a bonfire. A wildfire. A Goddamned nuclear inferno! And it had taken me three minutes. I lean back, look down at the breathtaking rendition of Cinnamon asleep on the page. A few downy feathers captured in negative space detail on her shoulders and hair give her an angelic appearance. From the corner of my eye I notice the torn and crumpled pages of my previous failed sketches. I''ve always wanted to be an artist. I''m not sure how to feel. The joy of what I can do makes my heart swell and ache. Yet, my guts churn and knot in disgust. It was too easy. I know it''s hypocritical of me. Not but a few hours ago I had made a pocket watch and marveled at how little effort it had taken. Even laughed at how fun it was. On the table are jeweled earrings with miniature magical radio like communicators built into them. One so small a Barbie doll could wear it. I constructed a pair of shades that could rival anything in some high priced sunglass store. My finger has a ring that identifies me as some sort of qualified engineer, and I have paperwork to back it up. And there was even more. Each achievement has made me pause to some degree. To question the ease at which they had come. This was different. It hit harder than all the previous combined. I understood, literally, the time, effort and skill involved. This was something I tried to accomplish in my real life. And failed at. Did I have any right to claim this talent? With no effort? By just... choosing to? I''ve always wanted to be an artist. Exhaling a breath, I look over at Cinnamon and then Kryst''s plant dome. It helps. Clears my mind of the cloying negativity welling up inside. On a scrap of cloth I wipe my fingers clean of both moisture and dust then flip to a fresh, clean new page. I stare into the void of the creamy white emptiness. Focus back on what I had been trying to accomplish with my initial attempts. Then, I begin. Chapter 60: Wake me up, ya dirty gasho "Cinnabuns? Sweety?" I lean close whispering in her ear. It flicks cutely. "Time to wake up.¡± Squeezing the pillows she moans and rolls over, stretching. "Brian?" A smile lights her face as her arms and legs swim about bunching the smooth covers. "Oh, this bed feels so nice. I could stay in it all day." "You do look good in it.¡± I smile, wondering if it''s the additional Allure from the soap that has added the faint highlights to her hair and the mascara like fullness to her lashes, ¡°Did you have a good sleep?" "Muhumm hum." She gives me a closed eye coo-sigh. "Glad you enjoyed it." "What about you?" She glances over to the table, at the few leftover parts I''ve yet to my pack away. She pouts."Didn''t you get any rest? You know, the bed is so big, we could have shared..." Cinnamon sits up, then wavers, seeming to finally notice her still sensuously gift-wrapped body. I can almost see her mind playing catch-up in those big brown eyes. The blush that starts to tint her ears spills its way into her cheeks. (Passive) Insight vs Cinnamon: Success! I can tell she is flustered, on a launch countdown to apology mode. My instinctual response is to ease her embarrassment. To engage for a few rounds in the ''No, no, I''m the one to blame'' game. To spin around and around in circles of back and forth apologies. Something tells me to take a different approach. My mind swirls. Waves of conflict smashing on the rocks of uncertainty. I''ve never been that forward, never mind boldly confident with women. However, I am beginning to learn what appeals to Cinnamon. The sort of take-charge authority that gets her all hot and bothered. Maybe it''s a kind of beast-kin alpha animal throwback thing? Should I act on it? I feel a bit skeezy even contemplating the approach but I smash down the Mothra sized butterflies in my belly and steel my guts. "You know, Cinni," I reach down and run a fingertip from her navel slowly up to her clavicle, "teasing me like that was very naughty. Getting me so turned on I¡¯m barely able to think straight. Needing to feel you in my hands¡­ to have you wrapped around me.¡± I pause drawing a slow figure 8 over her cleavage, letting her imagination fill in the blanks. ¡°Brian, I didn--¡± ¡°Shussshh¡­¡± A finger to my lips cuts her off. Silences her apology. This was the moment of truth. I pray my instincts and comments from Kryst are not wrong. ¡°But that''s okay. Because my perfect play-bunny pet is going to make it up to me later." Charm vs Cinnamon + Situational Bonus: Extreme Success! A slap doesn''t come. Bolstered by the lack of an indignity delivered sting on my cheek I reach behind her head and pull her up to me. Following up each of my next words with a nibbling kiss to punctuate. "Over, and over again." My lips trace her jawline and I pull back just enough to stare into eyes I could drown in. I drop a touch more base into my voice. "Right?" "Yes." She breathes, batting her eyes. "Good girl. " I whisper. In response, Cinnamon moans and squirms in my arms. (Passive) Insight vs Cinnamon: Success! Sploosh! I''ve stumbled onto the magic words. It''s only the still fresh in our minds close call from earlier that prevents her from launching into my lap and all but bucking me through the floor. Cinnamon arches her back, lifting her chest toward me in a cunning ploy to tempt me. From the corner of my eye, I watch her hand drifting closer to my knee. Before she can get any further I place my palm over her wrist, halting her progress. She struggles a little, chews at her lip, her eyes half-lidded. Leaning over I dip my mouth toward her cleavage. With inhuman willpower, I resist motor-boating the bountiful set of breasts being thrust toward my face. Drifting past the moonstone pendant nestled between those heavenly orbs I cut her off trilling coo-ing with a deep kiss. I hold her, our tongues dancing. Charm vs Cinnamon + Complimentary Skill Bonus: Tongue Tricks Specialization: Success! "Alright then." I pull away, completely switching my demeanor. Putting faith in my direct approach. That my psychological sexual warfare manipulations will have the desired effect. "I want you to do me a favor. Take a look at this."The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. Cinnamon blinks in surprise. Then with a smile quickly shifts gears herself, enjoying the game. The lusty desire written in her body language ebbs pushed aside with confidence in the knowledge that in the near future there will be a follow-up to the promises we''ve both made. "Oh, what''s this, Brian?" She takes the open sketchbook when I present it to her, looking down at the newest picture, alive with a wash of color from the few paints in my kit. "Do you like?" "More like love." She giggle-coos. "I''ve never seen anything like it!" "Will you two keep it down?! I swear, I''ve heard damned rock slides make less noise!" "Kryst? You''re awake?" Cinnamon grins with excitement and I share her smile. Quickly getting out and off of the bed respectively we stand, moving to the table. Both of us eager to check up on our tiny companion, I slide back the foremost flowerpot to expose the little fairy sized bedroom. In her bed, Kryst has taken up a very similar position to the one Cinnamon had been a few minutes earlier, and as the fading light of the day spills into her ''room'' she pulls the covers over her head with a groan. "What in the hells? Go away!" "How are you feeling?" I ask. "I''d feel a lot better if I didn''t have a couple of damned chatter crows chewing my ears off when I''m trying to sleep!" I''m pleased to hear that she doesn''t have that tinge of weakness to her voice any longer. Still, I want to see with my own eyes, to make sure she is okay. "She is fine." Cinnamon gives me a relieved smile, then like a gentle mom trying to coax her child awake, Cinnamon rubs the covers where the fairy''s shoulder appears to be. "C''mon, sleepyhead. No more laying about." "I''m gonna lay you out if you don''t leave me alone." Kryst grumbles. Relief washes over me as I agree with Cinnamon''s assessment, recognizing laziness for what it was. "Kryst, get up we have to get ready for tonight. We''re going to have to get a move on if we don''t want to be late." I pinch her sheet at the foot of the bed and tug on it. Kryst fights back, holding on in a vain attempt to keep her shield. It pulls free from her hands. Immediately she flips over and, with her naked butt now mooning us, buries her head into the pillows. "Ugh! You''re the worst!" Kryst complains with the overly drawn-out sigh of a spoiled teenager. Her gossamer wings have wrapped around her body, adhering to it so completely it gives the appearance that she is covered with a shimmering, intricately detailed thin black-lined tattoo. They unfurl and flicker. Once more taking on their brilliant iridescent shine. I''m happy to see the stripper-glitter luster has returned to her skin and, I can tell the magic of the Allure enhancing soap is still in full effect too. Though like Cinnamon she hardly needs it. Even when just waking up the fairy is beautiful. Finally, flopping over onto her back, Kryst opens her eyes and runs both hands through her slightly luminous hair; which somehow styles it into her sexy ''I don''t care how my hair looks'' pixie-cut hairdo. One that usually takes professional stylists hours to achieve. She then sits up, smacks her lips and does a shocked double-take. "What in the hell''s are you wearing, Carrots?" "Oh, yes!" Cinnamon glances down at herself and grins. "What do you think? We had some lingerie in my closet after all. Brian found it for me." Cinnamon spins in a sort of half-turn pirouette showing off her outfit. "Well, it''s most certainly salacious." Kryst shakes her head and gives me a snorting glance, "Humph. Trust you to know about such lewd clothing." "What?" I shrug in an attempt to look as innocent as possible. "Dirty gasho." Kryst mumbles. "I like it. Though, I don''t think I would wear it out in public." Cinnamon shakes her head, "It''s okay when it is just you and Brian around. I mean, I''m all covered up. Mostly..." Cinnamon''s little bunny tail flick-twitches above the thin straps of her thong, "But somehow I feel even more... naked. Does that make sense?" "Definitely." Kryst swings her legs out of bed and stands. Stretching she leans over, looking past us and at the ripped up pillows and crumpled sheets on our bed. Her eyes narrow. "Just what did you two get up to while I was asleep?" "Nothing!" Cinnamon and I say in unison, way too quickly. "Uh-huh. I thought I told you don''t do anything without me." Kryst glares between us as Cinnamon and I clear our throats and rub at the back of our heads, grinning in embarrassment. "Ah, you think this is funny." Kryst''s tone gets harsh and accusatory. "What are you both? Children? What the hells is going on in those brains of yours?" She knocks two outstretched fingers against her forehead. "Do you two realize what could have happened?" Immediately she points the same fingers at me. "You could have really hurt Cinnamon! Maybe worse! Tell me something, Brian. What happens when you try to shove a sword in a dagger sheath?" "Kryst, I¡­" "What happens? Does it fit nice and easy? Or does go and tear it apart!" The fairy stares at me, letting it sink in. "So tell me, do either of you two find that funny?" Kryst looks back and forth between us with clear vexation. A queasiness floods my stomach as I get the picture. Neither Cinnamon nor I say anything. The room grows uncomfortably quiet. Then Kryst continues in a slow, calm voice. "I''m really disappointed in both of you." Gunslinger Swagger or not the sting of her words is like a physical slap. A glance at Cinnamon confirms she feels the same. Finally, my tongue starts working again and like I have just been pulled into the principal''s office I begin to spout excuses. "We hadn''t planned it or anything. It was... We may have gotten a little carried away, but we were drunk--" "And the spice that I used in the wine," Cinnamon interrupts, "It can be umm... well, it''s used as an aphrodisiac so--" The scowl Kryst shoots toward us both clearly states she is not having any of it. "You''re right. Of course, you''re right, Kryst." I say. "We''re really sorry." Cinnamon''s ears dip. "Yeah." I nod. "It won''t happen again." "Oh yes, it will!" Cinnamon objects, shooting me a look. "I just mean it won''t¡­We''ll be more careful next time. Make sure Kryst will help with the¡­" I shake my head. "You know what I mean." "Listen, I know this is difficult for you, Carrot''s, and¡­" Kryst dips her head with a long sigh. "And alright, yeah when we''re were all drinking I may have been tempted to climb onto Too Tall''s tongue for another ride as well." She motions to me than folds her arms under her naked breasts. "So, I''m not saying that it''s entirely your fault for¡­" Kryst glances to both of us then sucks her teeth and her shoulder square. "It''s just, you can''t go fucking around when it comes to you¡­ bucking around." Kryst turns around angrily her arms still crossed, unwilling to meet our eyes. (Passive) Insight vs Kryst: Success! The fear in her posture is almost palpable. Cinnamon pouts, her lip quivering with emotion. The bunny girl steps forward, bends over the table and reaches out to wrap Kryst into a hug from behind that all but makes the Fairy disappear. "I''m sorry, Kryst we didn''t mean to make you worry..." Leaning in Cinnamon continues to whisper to the Fairy. I feel a lump thicken in my throat at the display and wonder if I should step over as well. I don''t manage to catch any more or the quiet one-sided conversation and before I can make a decision the moment has stretched on a bit too long for me to join in without it being awkward. For the briefest of moments, I catch Kryst lean her head back against Cinnamon''s jaw, in a longing to return the hug. Just as quickly it is gone and in an act to cover the movement Kryst stifles a cough and wriggles free as Cinnamon loosens her embrace. "Alright, so, party time!" Kryst says as she steps toward her bedroom area and Cinnamon moves to stand. "C''mon you two. Hop and chop. We have to get ourselves sorted if we don''t wanna miss out on the festivities." Chapter 61: Clothing Conundrum Sitting on the edge of the bed I watch history repeat itself as Cinnamon pours through her wardrobe. Magic land aphrodisiac may no longer be flooding my system but, having the erotic display of Cinnamon prancing about in porn star lingerie certainly isn''t helping to keep my attention on the test I''m supposed to be performing. "Nope. I don''t see anything like it." Cinnamon sucks her teeth. "That''s so strange." I tap my chin, "You don''t see that exact dress somewhere in there? I mean, really get a picture of it in your mind first and then have another look." Cinnamon gives me a quizzical glance, then shrugs and picks up the sketchbook again to study the amazingly detailed dress drawn on the page once more. "What are you looking for anyway?" Kryst yells from the other bedroom. "A dress." Cinnamon calls back, closing the book and marking the page with a finger. "I was hoping that this design Brian showed me would be in here. No such luck though." She pokes around with the clothes some more then finally shakes her head. "It''s too bad. I''d have liked to wear it to the party." Walking over she plops onto the bed next to me. "Smashed potatoes!" She huffs, "I was really hoping it would be there too." "Whoa! You kiss your Pop-up with that mouth?" I joke. Cinnamon bashfully scrunches her lips and nudges me with a shoulder. I smile with her then slapping my hands on my knees stand and stride over to the wardrobe. "I''m positive I saw it..." I slide my hand into the hanging clothing, pushing dresses and frocks aside to give a search myself. Making sure there''s no dress to be found. The first part of the trial was done anyway. It seemed that even with a picture Cinnamon couldn''t utilize the special functionality of the wardrobe. I know that I can do it. I''ve proven it. Done similar with my Adventurers Knapsack and with the lingerie. Is it that I am the only one who can call forth an item then? Do I have to physically do so? "Oh my goodness." Cinnamon''s voice is quiet, only a touch louder than the whisper of pages turning behind me. "Brian? Did you draw all of these? Cinnamon is gently flipping through the pages of my sketchbook, she stops, running a finger over the rough paper and the captured likeness of her asleep, surrounded by pillows and feathers. "These are... of me." "Yeah, I did." I rub the back of my head. For some reason, I feel embarrassed. I had a few sketches of Kryst too. Profile studies, and one rather nice piece I wanted to finish off when I had more time later; a recollection of the fairy standing at the window of the inn this morning as she preformed her meditative kata. Cinnamon was correct though. Most, almost all, were of her. "You just looked so beautiful laying there. Like an angel." I am proud of them. They are the most amazing pictures I''ve ever drawn after all, even if I feel I don''t deserve the talent. "I wanted to capture the moment. I hope you don''t mind." Having Cinnamon flip through the pages, knowing that I was watching her while she slept has me feeling like some sort of weirdo voyeuristic creep. Nervousness gets the better of me and I study her reaction, trying to figure out if she is thinking the same... Insight vs Cinnamon: Extreme Success! Cinnamon''s soft brown eyes meet mine and my knees turn to jelly. Held in place I can''t look away. Ever since we met her drop-dead looks have stolen my breath. This, however, is a whole new level. I''ve started to recognize the hungry predatory look my spectacular macho bod has on the ladyfolk. The burning candle of lust is still there in Cinnamon''s eyes, however, it''s all but invisible when placed in front of the spotlight intensity that she regards me with now. My chest draws tight. She is into me. And not in an adventurous ''I wanna screw this guy cause he''s super hot'' way. Though there is that too. No, she is well and truly... falling for me. Lust I understood. I mean, hell even as a super straight guy I could admit how crazy good looking I now am. The other L-word? That was a whole, completely different ballpark. What do I say? What should I do? "Can I..." She asks quietly as if afraid of the answer. "have this one?" Forcing determined strength into my watery legs I walk over to the bed and slowly lift the sketchbook from her hands. Gently, I tug the page free. By concentrating on the controlled, deliberate movement I manage to keep my own hands from trembling. When I offer the page back she takes it almost reverently. "Thank you, Brian." Feeling rather self-conscious I swallow and without a word reach out to pat her head like she is some kind of loli anime character. Her ears twitch, she blinks but then her shoulders relax. The movement feels weird and unnatural, even if she does seem to... like it? Unsure how to deal with the new emotions swirling off and around of both Cinnamon and myself, I lean over, kiss the crown of her head between her ears then clear my throat and attempt to change the subject.Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more. "So, are you sure you looked everywhere in there, Cinni-buns?" With my back turned to the wardrobe I push away the thoughts that are making my guts do cartwheels. In my mind I picture the dress I''d sketched earlier, focusing that same creative energy and desire towards the closet in the corner that I have used before when taking out items from my Adventurers Kit. "Why don''t you go and take one more peruse through." "It''s not there." Cinnamon, still looking at the picture of herself gently lowers the paper into her lap. "Take another look for me. Just to make sure." Cocking her head to the side slightly, Cinnamon blinks then seems to pull herself free from the emotional quagmire. She stands and strides over. Most likely reminded of her disappointment with the dress situation she gives an agitated little huff while shoving aside a green shawl. And there, hidden in plain sight is the dress. Cinnamon stops. Her eyes light up and I hear an intake of breath a moment before an ''EeeEe'' squeal. In that sliver of time as Cinnamon reaches out, I give both the clothing and the wardrobe a quick Analysis. (Exceptional) Women''s Wardrobe: Some of the finest clothing and fashion accessories have been collected into this standing closet. In addition to the assorted outfits contained within, up to ten mundane articles may be retrieved with a value of no more than 50 gold apiece. [4 point Accessory Item Pool- Limitation: Clothing or Fashion related Bonuses and/or Abilities Only] [Uses Remaining: x6] Contents: Elegant Satin Dress (Royal Blue) x1, Stylish High Heels (Gold) x1 (Mundane) Elegant Satin Dress (Royal Blue): Made to impress this sensuous, body-hugging evening dress is perfect for upscale parties, festivals, ballroom dances or any similar night on the town. [+2 Allure] [+5 Presence: Not vs Faceoff or Presence Attacks] - Cost 2 pts (Mundane) Stylish High Heels (Gold): Strut with confidence for these strappy styled pumps will most definitely turn some heads. [+2 Allure] [+2 Presence: Not vs Faceoff or Presence Attacks] [Penalty: Movement/ Balance Skills] - Cost 1 pt "How did I not see these before?" Clapping her hands and hopping in place, Cinnamon grabs the dress and the shoes tucked underneath pulling them out into the open. "What can I say? Sometimes what you are looking for is staring you right in the face." I grin pleased with myself. It worked! I''m not exactly sure how, and I didn''t fine-tune manipulate the points spent like how I could with my Magitech and various crafting or Tinkering related skills, but it worked. "I guess so-- wait?" Cinnamon seems caught in a wave of suddenly conflicting emotions. She turns and fixes me with a look. She shoves one fist against a bare hip, holding the dress out with the other hand. "Did you hide this from me, Brian? Were you playing some kind of game?" She pouts, somehow looking cute, happy, upset and sexy all at the same time. "You shouldn''t tease me like that." "Cinnamon..." I step close, wrapping her in my arms, clasping the back of her neck with one hand and her thong exposed bare ass cheek with the other. I pull her against me. Hard. Leaning in to deliver a series of nibbling kisses to the nape of her neck I whisper, "Would I do that?" "It is¡­ n''t¡­" Cinnamons whispers, moaning low in her throat, "...very nice..." "Goodie for you!" Kryst yells from the other room in a voice dripping with sarcasm. Cinnamon and I quickly retreat back away from each other, both smirking. "At least you found something to wear." Kryst continues, followed by the sound of some wooden banging. We return to the larger bedroom and witness Kryst in the middle of grabbing clothing from her miniature-sized closet, tossing the various dresses over her shoulder in disgust. Most of the fairy sized attire has already been pulled out and is strewn all over the table and floor. I don''t have to walk past the doorway to see the problem. The small dresses are extremely well made and do indeed look just about the right size to fit Kryst, but each one is exactly what you would expect a young rich child to have as accessories to dress up her dolls. Overly decorated princess gowns, gaudily bedazzled with sparkly bits and tiny shiny sequins. "I guess I''m not going ''cause I wouldn''t be caught dead wearing any of this crap." Kryst kicks a frilly outfit, mumbling in agitation when it catches on her foot and she needs bend over to untangle it from her toes in order to flick it off. Full of concern and wanting to help, Cinnamon steps over, rifling a finger through the small outfits. "How about this one? It looks nice." Cinnamon offers, holding up a garishly decorated yellow ball gown that is straight out of the Victorian era, complete with corset and a massive flaring hoop styled skirt. "Funny." Kryst fixes Cinnamon with an icy glare. "Didn''t realize you were an apprentice jester, Carrot''s." From just inside near the doorway I look over and Analyze the wardrobe. (Exceptional) Doll''s Wardrobe: Some of the finest fashion accessories have been collected into this toy closet. [Special: Fairy Wardrobe] In addition to the assorted outfits contained within, up to ten mundane (Fairy Sized) articles may be retrieved with a value of no more than 15 gold apiece. [10 point Accessory Item Pool- Limitation: Clothing or Fashion related Bonuses and/or Abilities Only] [Uses Remaining: x10] It was as I thought. The description may have been a little different but it had a much similar breakdown as the other two. Perhaps it''s due to my time around the girls, or the increase to my passive Insight, Perception and Deduction skills but I''m getting better and better at reading them and seeing through their facades. By her balled fists Kryst is clearly annoyed. The slump of her shoulders and quivering wings, however, tell another story. She is distressed, side glancing at the bed where Cinnamon has lain out her new dress so she can better help the fairy in her search. Her gaze even flicks to the lingerie Cinnamon is wearing. Lingering with jealous desire. "Let''s not throw down the banner just yet." Cinnamon offers in a calming voice, attempting to ease the angry waves of tension pouring off the agitated Gleam. "There has got to be something here we can put together for you." "Bad enough I lost everything in that damn beast''s belly... Like finding clothes isn''t hard enough." Kryst continues to grumble, sprinkling the rant with what I can only guess is colorful profanity in some other language. "... expect me to wear this ridiculous nuhjint¡­" "Hey, Cinnamon? Kryst? How about those drawers there? Or the little trunk? Did you try all of them?" I grin, mischievously, channeling my creative will toward the tiny toy furniture. "Probably just more of the same. Knowing my--" Kryst stops mid-complaint as she flips open the lid of the trunk with a bang. "Huh? Hold on¡­" Chapter 62: Armor Up "What kind of damned loopy ass sadist tailor-designed these things?!" "No, no, silly. You''ve got it on backward." There''s a giggle and a touch of pomposity in Cinnamon''s voice that makes me smirk. As if she''s an old hand regarding the ins and outs of wearing sexy underwear. "That strap is supposed to go between the cheeks of your butt." "Ahh..." There is a pause long enough for some shifting of delicates before Kryst replies with a glib grunt. "I suppose that''s a bit better. Will take some getting used to." Another pause. "I do have to admit these... brahs are a lot better than chest wraps. Although, I think I prefer the sporting one to this lacey thing." "Aww, but you look so good in it. Aaaand it does match nicely with the outfit you found for tonight." "Carrot''s. No one is gonna see what I have on underneath so that''s hardly a sales point." "Brian might." "Pfft¡­ Like I care." I grin, picking up bits and pieces of the back-and-forth conversation going on in the other bedroom as the girls get dressed. The few clothing choices the I¡¯d summoned up for Kryst in her wardrobe were mostly inspired by my real-world recollections of stylized fashion mixed with manga, comics, and video game costume designs. The first was an outfit to wear to tonight''s Gala, which had ended up costing a few points from her wardrobe''s Accessory pool that gave a little boost to Presence and Allure. Since she only owned one change of clothes I figured she would like to have something else for regular daily use, so the second were a few Avatar benders meets Dead or Alive fighting gi styled getups. There were some modern inspired sports bra tank-top and yoga pants in the mix but all looked like the could and would fit fairly well in either a fighting game or anime stylized fantasy genre. Finally to round it out, a couple of sets of matching underwear. Nothing as ostentatious as the lingerie Cinnamon currently had, but it was enough to give the fairy a taste of what she was missing and hopefully curb some of the envious looks Kryst had been shooting towards the bunny girl. The last thing I wanted was any sort of animosity to start brewing between the two. Especially with us getting along so well. That¡¯s the excuse I gave myself anyway. Seeing Kryst in a hot pink slingshot bikini was still pretty high on my must do list. As I pull on my own silk boxers I let out a sigh. Shaking my hips a little at the feel of the smooth material on my skin and thanking my lucky stars I no longer had to put on any of the somewhat rough cotton undergarments I had been wearing since my arrival. The godsend underwear hadn''t cost me any Accessory points, though they along with an extra pair I''d summoned up had used two of the special clothing allotment Use slots from my closet. For tonight though, I''d been lucky enough to find a nice looking pair of tailored black pants, a purple silk shirt and a pair of renaissance style calf-high leather riding boots in the wardrobe. All of which thankfully hadn''t cost me any Accessory points or Use slots either. Even if I''d never been the most fashion-conscious guy back in the real world the outfit that I''ve picked out for tonight I think will look good. I''ve Analysed each and although most have no bonuses, the coat does give a pretty impressive +3 to Presence and the boots a bit of defense, that''s, in fact, a little better than my original pair. That makes me pause and my gamer instincts flick-on and off like twinkle lights at christmas. The idea of going to the party without the protection of weapons and armor makes me feel uneasy. Fingers tap at my chin in thought. A cartoon lightbulb flashes in my head while I look over the coat and the boots. I don''t need to do it but I pick up my sketchbook and go to town again. Thinking back, pulling on designs from pop culture and time spent searching the net. Cool character concept designs and cosplay pictures mix with action heroes from movies and anime. Blade, Final Fantasy, Pirates of the Caribbean, The Witcher, Trigun, Van Helsing, a smattering of Matrix, Blade Runner, Star Wars. Comic-Con displays, gaming forums, Pinterest channels and countless others swirl and rattle around in my consciousness. I pick and choose elements until I get a few designs that I refine down, getting an even better picture in my mind of a Victorian meets futuristic steampunk styled leather knee-length coat and matching vest. I give a grin and turn to the wardrobe. A few minutes later the mirror reflects a picture of badassery. Gone is the stained and somewhat frayed ratty leather armor with its missing studs and rusty buckles. Holding back a smile is an impossibility as I take in my new look and fire off an Analyse. Stylish Dark Sunglasses: Sleek and sexy, these stylish sunglasses not only add an air of mystique but also protect the wearer by reducing the duration or even negate imposed conditions due to bright light or visual-based special effects or attacks. [+5 pts Flash Defense: Sight] [+3 Presence] [+1 Charm] (Mundane) Badass Longcoat (Black): Not only does it cut an impressive profile that sets its wearer apart from the crowd but with its additional silver stud and buckle accents this supple leather longcoat actually grants its wearer some defense should they find themselves engaged in combat. [+5 Presence: Not vs Faceoff or Presence Attacks] Armor: [2 Physical / 2 Energy] Protects: Torso / Arms / Upper Legs - Cost 3 pts (Mundane) Stylish Leather Vest (Black): Form fitted for a dashing physique, this bold design, molded front buckled vest has been made with some of the same methods used for crafting Cuir-Bouilli armor and so grants some protection to its wearer. [+2 Presence: Not vs Faceoff or Presence Attacks] Armor: [3 Physical / 3 Energy] Protects: Torso - Cost 3 pts (+1 Physical / +1 Energy to Torso Due to Armor Layering) (-1 Defense Value due to Armor Layering) (Mundane) Fancy Leather Riding Boots (Black): Lower Legs / Feet: Armor: [2 Physical / 1 Energy] I chuckle at the name of the coat, but it is indeed fitting. Strangely enough, unlike my clothes, my shades still grant me a bonus to faceoffs. Is it because actually do feel ''cooler'' while wearing them? More confident. Deduction: Success! That adds up. I have heard that not seeing a person''s eyes can be psychological disconcerting. As for the wardrobe, somehow, I simply¡­ know that we''re I to try and form anything heavier, like a full suit of plate mail, for example, the ''special function'' simply wouldn''t work. Designed for fashionable type accessories I''d managed to trick it into providing better than normal protective clothing simply because my inspired design could, and was, considered clothing and not technically armor. The bonus to my torso is an interesting mechanic. As is the Defensive Value decrease. That would account for that slight limiting of movement I feel as I twist in place. That means if one were so inclined they could shrug on multiple layers of armor. They''d be tough to hurt, but being puffed up like a Pillsbury doughboy with such protective layering it''d make them much easier to hit. A speedy dodge tank versus damage reduction tank. What I have now is a good balance. The leather vest and longcoat have used up six points leaving me with a grand total of a four-point Accessory Item Pool remaining and I still have six more Uses left of the wardrobe for regular, non-game mechanic bonus granting clothing. Perhaps some more underwear? My decisions so far have been more than worth it. Not only does my outfit look awesome, but it offers better protection than the scruffy pile of discarded armor now sitting in a pile in the corner. And it fits in with regular clothing. Sort of anyway. Granted it''s more than a little upscale compared with the average commoner on the street, however, as all three of us stood out enough already I doubt that would make much difference when it came to any social interactions. As far as weapons were concerned, with it''s scimitar-like tapered Elvin designed blade; the tang molded into an expertly crafted and etched bird wing motif, my sword is about the only one that looks fancy enough to pass the dapper high fashion test. The scabbard I had purchased this morning is fairly nondescript. Plain unadorned leather. Being brand new with its barely handled condition, it does actually focus more attention on the decorative hilt of the sword. Fancy, elegant and magically enchanted, I''m fairly certain it will be given a pass at the Gala. That said, I''m pretty sure striding in with a gun strapped to my hip won''t go over nearly as well. I look at the recently reassembled ugly hunk of iron on the bed. It wasn¡¯t pretty. It was darn right awful. But, it was my class specialty and I certainly didn''t want to leave it back here. Player intuition was screaming at me what a terrible idea that was. If only... A flash of inspiration hits and I once again turn to my wardrobe. I hesitate for a moment, unsure if I want to use up any more of the precious points or slots. Deciding it''s worth the expenditure I let the picture in my mind''s eye solidify and focus once more.Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel. Kryst buzzes into the room as I''m removing my jacket. Dipping about she alights into the top of the locked trunk behind me. "Dang girl. Looking good." I compliment looking through the reflection of the mirror before turning to get a better view of the fairy. I''m not lying. She''s stunning. Wrapped in a Chinese style red dress. Gold accents on the shoulders, sleeves and small buttons at the collared neck match the masterfully embroidered nonsymmetrical Dragon design clawing up over her lift hip amidst a shower of flower petal filigree. I smile, glad I remembered to include the artful slits in the back to allow her wings to unfurl and buzz behind her. "Yeah." Kryst says it nonchalantly, looking overly pleased with herself as she struts across the top of the trunk. "I''ve never seen this particular style of dress, but it does have a sort of Roukan influence to it." "Well, it suits you." Kryst doesn''t say anything in reply but she does twist in place striking a pose while attempting to not look like she is doing so. Reaching into the wardrobe I pull out my newest summoned acquisition, shrugging it over my shoulders. "Too Tall?" Kryst raises an eyebrow, "We''re going to a party. What''s with the climbing harness?" "This, my dear,¡± I say, giving it a quick look over, ¡°is a shoulder holster." (Mundane) Shoulder Holster (Black): Worn across the back and shoulders this harness allows a handgun to be worn under a jacket without drawing attention to its presence. [+5 Concealment - Handgun only] - Cost 1 pt "A what?" "It''ll allow me to wear my gun to the party tonight without anyone knowing." Tugging the straps across my back I attach the hanging straps to the belt at my waist, adjust the holster under my left arm and the pouch and strip of bullet loops to hold extra ammo under my right. "You expecting a shoot out with the finger foods?" "I''d rather be prepared. Remember the bath?" "Alright, I''ll give you that one. But¡­" Kryst gives a scoff, "that rigged up whatever it is? It''s just dumb. I mean, you do realise that thing will never work, right?" "Sure." I nod with smug indignation. "I''ll pass the memo onto James Bond." "Who?" Kryst''s brow crinkles, "He another one of those drow relatives of yours with the silly names?" With a shake of my head, I pull my badass longcoat back on. After smoothing out my sleeves I pick up and slip my gun into the holster under my arm. Unlocked: General Skill: Concealment I stand there for a few moments then cross draw to Kryst''s wide-eyed astonishment. I don''t know if it''s my skills or just the way the world works but I¡¯m again stunned by how natural it feels. It¡¯s perfect. the profile under my jacket and arm completely innocuous, the cross draw smooth. As if it was custom-tailored for an undercover cop, overeager gun nut or super secret agent. Which, I suppose it was as those were the lines I was thinking along. "You know, you do have a point." Kryst chews the corner of her red painted lips for a moment clearly impressed with my spy-like attire even if she wasn''t willing to give me much praise for it. She seems to think then flies over to the table where she retrieves her tiny gauntlets and her silver ring from her pile of belongings. She pauses then stuffs the clothes I''d summoned for her into her satchel bag along with the gauntlets and holds it out for me. "You mind holding onto this for me?" "No prob." I say, shooting an Analyse at the Gauntlets before tucking her small satchel into the pouch strapped under my right arm. (Magical) Stormbreaker Gauntlets: Imbued with the power of a hurricane, these iron gauntlets both protect the wearer from elemental damage and allow them, if they chose, to deal electrical damage to their foes. Magical: [Reduce Elemental Damage (Lightning/Thunder) by 50%.] Magical: Equipped Damage: [+4-32 Non-Lethal vs Energy Resilience] Armor: [6 Physical / 6 Energy] Protects: Hands/ Forearms. A pretty nice magic item. For a moment I wonder if the ring she has is magical too. I am tempted to ask when Kryst suddenly pulls back the slit in her dress, exposing her shapely leg and a bit of thong exposed ass cheek. I''d seen the fairy naked multiple times already nevermind the recent sexy-time situation, but the teasing hint of what was under the dress coupled with the bonuses from what she is wearing amps everything up another few notches on the "Gawd-damn!" scale. "How is Cinnamon making out?" I ask grabbing my extra bullets and securing them into the ammo belt loops. "Is she almost ready?" "I guess." With her foot on the edge of the bed Kryst slides the ring up her leg until it''s around her thigh like a bridal garter then indicates the other bedroom with a thumb. "She''s in there shining her lips and such. A whole lot of foolishness if you ask me. Putting on all this crap." She says dismissively, though I see Kryst has allowed Cinnamon to apply just a touch of makeup on her, bringing out her sharp cheekbones, full lips, and luminous magenta eyes. As much as she protests from the corner of my eye I catch her turning, twisting to admire her reflection. "I don''t understand why these poofty types bother with all these accessories and frivolousness. It¡¯s such a complete waste of time." "You do have a bit of an edge, little miss fae. Not everyone is lucky enough to be born beautiful." "Like you''re one to talk. It may be a long diluted lineage but Elves have a sliver of the Faewylde flowing through them too, you know." "Hey, I''m not throwing shade. Just an observation." I grin holding up my hands, more than aware of my own handsomeness. "Speaking of accessorizing, I have something for you." I step over to the table and pick up the two earrings from the small compartment where I''d stored them in my Magictech kit. Another idea pops into my head and with my body blocking her view reach over and focus my will into Kryst¡¯s wardrobe. "More presents, huh?" Kryst gives a little snort, "What? Trying to slather me with honey butter so I''ll agree to another sticky session for you and Carrot''s?" "Why do you think I have some sort of ulterior motive?" I ask, tucking the tiny slingshot bikini into my pocket while taking out the other item I¡¯d created with the wardrobe with the hand holding the earrings. "Doesn''t everyone? And lest we not forget, you are a male too." "Whoa! What is that?" "Not throwing shade. Just an observation." She parrots back at me. "You are such a pessimist." I grin. "Your common is a little rusty. It''s pronounced realist. Anyway, lemme see what you have for me now in your further attempts to try and buy my favor. " Kryst cranes her neck, obviously eager. "You''re lucky I like you." "I am lovable." Kryst sighs, "It''s always been my curse." "Well," I chuckle, "while some lazy bugger was catching forty winks, I was out here slaving away over a hot Magitech kit." I extend my hand holding out the earring and a tiny set of dark shades nearly identical to my own, save with a touch toward a more feminine look. "Here, I made these for you." My theory had indeed worked. Since my shades had a stylized fashionable design I was able to duplicate them with Krysts wardrobe. Which meant I could make myself a backup pair as well. If I wanted to spend nearly all of the remaining points I had left that was. "You made me a set of your spectacles?" "Sunglasses or shades." "Whatever." Kryst takes them from my palm and after a quick look over slides them on. "Huh. So, they just make everything dark?" "More or less. Figured you might like to wear them to the party. Really works with your outfit too." "Too Tall. You know it''s going to be nighttime soon, right?" "Kryst baby, when you¡¯re cool the sun shines on you twenty¡­ five hours a day." "Heh." I catch the sly grin that creeps on Kryst¡¯s face. She twists, checking herself in the mirror then lowers the shades with a finger in the same way she has seen me do, peering over the top of them at her reflection. "I suppose that you do have a point." She concedes before she turns back to my still open palm. "And what is this? Jewelry?" She picks up the tiny earring, turning it over to inspect the design. "The earrings are special." I lift mine to my earlobe and hold it in place for a moment. I barely hear the sound of tiny gears turning and then there is a sharp needle stab of pain as the miniature spring-loaded spike pierces my lobe. A fraction of a second later I feel the tiny catch gear twist, locking the Magictech infused jewelry securely in place. Kryst watches me curiously but does the same, without any sign of a wince at the pinprick. There is a near-silent humm as the Magitech starts to activate, the tiny carved pieces I''d incorporated from the Scriber feeding vibrations through Resonance Crystals to connect each of the devices. (Can you hear me, Kryst? Just touch the earring and quietly whisper what you want to say.) I smirk as the Gleam''s eyes go wide. The fanboy in me throws in a (You can reply to this message.) for fun. (Nuhjint! You made these?) Kryst grins tugging at the tiny device. (Not bad, Too Tall.) (Pretty useful don¡¯t you think? The range should be about a quarter-mile or so. I didn''t have time to make one for Cinnamon yet.) I walk around the room putting a little distance between us to show off how they work. (But with those sensitive ears of hers we may not need them. For now anyway.) Clearing my throat I glance out the door. I can hear Cinnamon humming to herself as she gets ready in the other room. (Which reminds me. I wanted to ask you about something earlier but it wasn''t really the time) (What''s that?) (Blyghts. You said that they needed some kind of specific circumstance to form right? Like battlefields or necromancy.) Once more I lean out the doorway listening to the harmonious melody of Cinnamon''s catchy tune before continuing. (Places with a lot of death or corruption attributed to them.) (That is usually the case, but with the Redtree and the abundance of forest around here the chance of those sorts of circumstances having occurred seems pretty doubtful.) (So the more likely scenario is a person or creature is responsible. Maybe someone or something with strong necromantic ties. An arcanist who practices chaos magic. A powerful shaman or¡­) I trail off as I rub my chin. (Or an Arch level Geomaister.) Kryst blows out a breath. (Don''t think I haven''t considered it.) I nod. (Let''s keep this between us. I don''t know if Cinni has thought about that. At the same time, I mean, she knows her ''Pop-pop'' better than we do. And as far as I have seen the very notion of him being capable doing something like that is inconceivable to her.) Looking at the fairy I give a little shake of my head. (I don''t want to alarm Cinni or accuse her family of being up to nefariousness. Especially if that isn''t the case.) (And if he is?) (I don''t know. Perhaps if we get some evidence we can take it to the council? I do have the vial of Blyght blood.) I shrug. (I don''t know if that really proves anything though.) (Well, I for one intend to get some answers tonight.) (Let''s not do anything rash. I understand your concern, Kryst but we should be careful. We can''t just go in and demand--) "Nine hells I can''t!" Kryst snatches her hand away from her earring, wings vibrating with an angry bee like buzz. Her face so red it almost matches her dress. "You ain''t got a clue about understanding anything. If I''m going to give--" "Is everything alright?" Cinnamon steps into the room, she has a smile on her face but her ears twitch in Kryst''s direction even as she runs a final one, two, three, brush stroke through her hair to get it perfect. "No. It''s..." Kryst bites back her words at the sudden appearance of Cinnamon at the door. Her jaw tenses as her eyes flick between us. Finally the Gleam snorts out a "Nothing."