Confluence of Spheres

Silence challenges Mopan

“I saw…a painfully bright light…” Silence paused, thinking as to how he will explain what followed; it wasn’t something you could experience through words…


“I-I,” Silence tried to intervene.


“It’s…big.” Silence was somewhat relieved that he was changing the subject he was here, on the ship…but he was…also somewhere else. He was experiencing so much of the world, the shadow, life, death, all at once. Suddenly, everything made sense.

“I’m…HAH!” Silence was elated, he felt powerful! He felt as if no one could stop him. The world was his, if he wanted it. Silence, however, has other plans for this gift.

Silence thought a moment, “…Mopan.”

YES! ANYTHING YOU WANT!” Mopan was genuinely concerned. He has never met another fighter worthy of challenge, let alone one that was his equal. They were…friends? At least as close as you can be to friends without an official statement. Rivals, perhaps.

Silence smiled at Mopan.

“You’d better start practicing for our match, if you want a chance.”

Captain's Log

Day 1

Dear Captain’s Log,

You have the pleasure to be written by Mopan of the House Jadewell. Just as this ship has the pleasure of becoming one of the newest members of the fleet of House Jadewell. I have permitted Captain Eolfin to retain his position and title as acting captain, as I have more important things to do than play administer to a ship. Though I, along with the Rat King Beezelbrox, have decided that the ship does need a new name. Given the momentous occasion of the relocation Rat King’s subjects, all the rats of Waterdeep, I have decided that the Gray Gull aught to be re-titled the Grey Exodus. The Rat King was studious enough to point out the necessity of changing the ‘a’ to and ‘e’ in ‘Grey’ so that we differentiate this lovely ship from the common riff-raff who would defile the Common Tongue with such egregious spelling errors. We consulted one of the sailors whether it would be more fortunate for our voyage away from, the doomed, Waterdeep if we renamed it immediately, to which he assured us that there is no such superstition that holds any merit among other seafarers. We will at least hold off on the renaming until Ebrik comes up with a suitable design for the lettering.

Once we convincedWillow that the Lady Silverhand could manage her own assassinations he finally agreed to board the Grey Exodus and we set sail. It is a shame that Exodus has such undisciplined slaves that it cannot manage to keep their oars out much longer than a mile out of port, but I guess that is what you get when you allow the common rabble to seek their own way. I shared these concerns with our newest companion, Bryn, who listens and nods errantly. His blank eyes and soulless smile remind me of home. I can tell you truly Captain’s Log, that I am not excited to return to the rest of the hollow nobles and their petty political games. Though it will be a great advantage to utilize the armies of Calimsham. I could clearly see the great oozing tree looming over city of Waterdeep off to the East as we sailed down the coast. I spend the majority of the day watching the coast for any stray vassals of the ooze at the prow of the Exodus. Bryn and Lady Blossom seem to be in a daze. I understand Lady Blossom‘s lethargy. Loosing one’s home, family, and being hung over are unfortunate events to cope with. Daken amused himself with pointing out every fish and gull along our voyage while the two Rat Kings scurry about the ship with their subjects. Hopefully the wind will be on our side for the rest of this voyage

Day 2

Dear Captain’s Log,

Today is actually the first day that I have written in you, as today is the first day I have taken time to acquire one of Ebrik’s spare books. Day 1’s entry can truly be considered a back post of events, but for posterity’s sake it must be included. I was plagued by horrid dreams of wading through the bureaucracy and courtly conduct that awaits me in Calimport when I try to rally the Caliph’s armies against this rising threat of the ooze. Luckily Cookie’s expertise at his craft never fails to make my mornings. I don’t know how he manages to always have a warm meal prepared for me when I awaken, but the Dwarf always does. I spent most of today filling out you and cycling through the traditional exercises of the Mountain’s Root Wrestling Academy. It truly been a while since I have given much care to cultivating my qi. Maybe that is why I have not been as dazzling in combat as usual.

A storm seems to be brewing outside. The crew scurries about the ship in a hushed vibe of concern. Reminds me of the thousands of rats that the Rat King keeps with him. Commoners and rodents. Father will be thrilled. Hopefully the Rat King will be able to control them as well as he claims he can. Much can be accomplished with such small additions to our spy network. Speaking of such, Cookie seems to be up to something… I will need to have a meeting with him. This storm doesn’t seem to be letting up, though it can’t be as bad as all that. Bryn seems to be loosing his lunch and nerve, but what can you expect from such low breeding.

Whoa, Captain’s Log. The Exodus was thrown about and was nearly thrown sideways. Though no such trick can surprise your author,Mopan. I deftly vaulted out of me seat, jumped off the wall, then landed as in the manner I used to when I used to wrestle in the gladiator pits of Calimport. Unfortunately Ebrik, Cookie, and Mjor are not as graceful and find themselves sprawled about my cabin. By the sounds of the screaming outside, it is time for Mopan of the House Jadewell to make an appearance.

Brothers of Blood

Beyond the High Forest, hidden in the dangerous valleys of the Nether Mountains, the Monastery in the Vale stands out among its natural surroundings. Many of its inhabitants live their entire lives protected within its boundaries. There are no walls to keep out the tribes of orcs that inhabit the mountain range, no magical barriers to fend off hungry young dragons; there are only the Masters and their subordinates. The members of the monastery are some of the fiercest fighters known throughout the land and are more than willing to lend a hand in conflicts, on whichever side provides the coin.

There are two passes in the Nether Mountains. The Moon Pass, which has become a major battleground for two warring tribes of orcs, and the Turnstone pass, which has been lost to time and the wilderness. It is no stroll when approaching these mountains and going around and avoiding the dangerous creatures, treacherous passes, and bloodthirsty orcs tends to be good for one’s health. In such dangerous territory, regular patrols are a must. Two students and one captain are sent out on a bi-hourly basis. These patrols are required to obtain food, water, or to eliminate potential threats to the monastery. There are many hidden caves and passes in the mountains. The labyrinth is nearly impossible to traverse without experience.

“Can you believe someone tried to make it through the Moon Pass?” A dwarf calls out, flanked by two men, all wearing monastic robes. The three are reporting back after a particularly eventful patrol. They apporoach with horses and a damaged, but operating, wagon.

“What is this, Adrik!?” Captain Ruric, the individual responsible for patrols, calls back to the three from the road at the entrance to the monastery.

“I don’t know, but I wasn’t gonna question it! Found it wrecked and…” Adrik hesitates, “poor souls, no survivors.”

Captain Ruric begins to inspect the wagon. “Moon pass?” Ruric inquires.

“That’s what I said! Looked to be 2 or 3 of them, based on the size of the wagon and the tracks. Orcs got ’em.” Adrik points to the poorly crafted arrows and bloodstains on the side of the wagon.

“Did you find anything useful?” Ruric begins to inspect the wagon’s contents.

“Nah, I assumed the orcs would’ve cleared out any food or valuables.” Adrik continues, “Besides, fighting them off was enough work for the day. I think I’ve earned my drink!” Adrik gestures and begins to walk away at a suspiciously brisk pace.

“But, captain!” One of the two men exclaims, “what about the…”

Adrik interrupts quickly, “NO! No, uhh…damn,” but Ruric discovers the secret.

“What the hell is this!? Babies? A-are they tieflings?” Ruric stumbles over his words.

All four men are struck speechless.

“You know, I hear those devil-skins die if they touch holy water.” A group of young men stands behind two tieflings, one in white dress and the other in black, at the bar in the tavern of the monastery.

“You think ale does the same, Bill?” One of the men pours his drink all over the one in dark robes.

“Huh, I guess not!” The group erupts in laughter.

The dry tiefling stands quickly.

“No!” the tiefling, still seated, places his hand upon the other’s shoulder to calm him.

The standing tiefling spits on the floor, “You’re lucky my brother’s here.”

“Oh, really! How generous! Let me show my gratitude.” Bill swings his fist at the tiefling hitting him square in the jaw.

He falls to the floor, “Let’s go,” the other tiefling calmly states.

“Fuck that!” the tiefling nimbly springs to his feet and rushes into the croud of men.

The two tieflings stand before the Grandmaster, one of them has clearly been beaten badly.

“Leave us,” upon this order, the uninjured tiefling leaves the room.

“This has to stop!” Grandmaster Ruric angrily shouts.

“Master, they…” the tiefling tries to defend himself, but is interrupted.

“They what!? They offended you? So you throw yourself into seven armed men?” Ruric stands and crosses the room, “If your brother hadn’t stopped them…”

Ruric walks right up to the tiefling, “You must learn discipline.”

“Can you believe it!? He’s gonna be trained by the Grandmaster himself!” Adrik shouts out at the bar, “ALE FOR EVERYONE!!!”

“It’s not like that…he’s…disciplining me,” the tiefling in white robes tries to stop the commotion, “sit down, Adrik!”

“Come on, we never have a reason to celebrate, and that’s his way of trainin’! You’re in for quite the punishment, heh heh, you’d better enjoy yourself before tomorrow comes.”

“Have you seen my brother?” the tiefling inquires.

“Nope, he’s been disappearing a lot. Ever since Master Cestii began his training,” Adrik replies, “You don’t need to worry about him, though! He’s always been so damn talented! That boy knows his way around a blade.”

“I just…I never get to see him anymore.”

Each year, just after winter, the journeyman monks return to the monastery.

“Brother!” A tiefling in white robes drops his pack runs towards a tiefling in black and throws his arms around him.

Uncomfortably, the tiefling returns the gesture.

“I’ve learned so much! I’ve seen things you wouldn’t believe! I fought in a war!” The tiefling in white can barely contain his excitement.

HEY! HORNS!” Adrik rushes up to greet the newly returned tiefling and embraces his waist, “TO THE TAVERN!!!” Adrik releases him and starts forcing him in a new direction.

“I-I’ll see you later!” the tiefling calls back to his brother, but he’s already gone.

A group of men sits around a table in the monastery’s tavern. A great event has happened recently, with the Grandmaster falling ill, a successor is due to be named.

“Can you believe that Ruric is really considering a demon!?”

“Well, he’s not a demon…plus, he’s a war-hero!”

“I suppose, but that doesn’t change who he is.”

“I don’t doubt he’s capable of becoming Grandmaster, but what about our business?”

“Negotiations could be difficult…but at least he looks intimidating.”

“I’ve met him! He’s a careless idiot!”

“A careless, idiot, tiefling, war-hero…what’s the world coming to?”

“Well, maybe the Grand Journey will whip him into a leader?”

“Don’t get your hopes up…he’s still a fuckin’ tiefling…”

The walls of the cavern are barely visible in the dim light of a single candle. Two individuals stand, one kneeling before the other.

“You must go to Waterdeep. Await my instruction.” Cestii’s back is turned to the tiefling in black, kneeling behind her.

The roar of a distant crowd rises.

“What of him?”

Cestii turns to look at the tiefling, “You have nothing but the shadow, he is of no concern to you.”

The tiefling longingly looks in the direction of the commotion.

“Only hate may endure. You must deny yourself.” Cestii motions to dismiss, and the tiefling rises and walks out of the mouth of the dark cave.

Back in the sunlight, the tiefling looks out over the monastery.

“My brother…earn the respect of your new people, but you’ll have none from me.”

“The brother of your blood is close. The mirror is almost broken, sever the link.”

I dreamt of her again. The mother of shadow has spoken to me. I know what I must do.

I’m unsure of where to begin. However, I’ll try my best to explain. We went through the portal but Donovan and I were sent…somewhere else. I’m unsure of the fate of our comrades, but during the travel, something happened. We wound up being tossed onto a road in a countryside dominated by the presence of a massive black tree. It dwarfed everything in its surroundings, but we were able to spot a village nearby.

We wandered into the small town after being accosted by some strange old hobo. We attempted to gain knowledge of the tree from the townsfolk, but this proved fruitless. We proceeded to the local inn and enjoyed a drink at the bar. The folk here are very strange. Likely due to the tree, but I digress.

I managed to obtain information that a tiefling had appeared nearby and was being taken care of at Honey Hollow, some local halfling residence. I decided that this would be a great opportunity to challenge myself with my new abilities and to finally fulfill my destiny.

“Twin red stars.
One light, one dark.
When the shadow plays its part,
Vengeance for Queen Shar.”

It would also allow me a chance to “catch up” with my brother. I could not pass up this opportunity.

I proceeded to Honey Hollow cloaked in shadow. Entry was easy enough, no guards, barely a lock, and no animals. I proceeded to search the residence and found him, Voice, my twin brother it’s been so long. I could barely believe that it really was him.

He was unconscious, but it mattered, not. His fate was there to greet him with nothing but Silence and a sharpened sword.

The monastery will have to find another to replace the Grandmaster. This potential’s journey of training has ended.

Fitting that he leaves the world in the same manner he left on the Grand Journey: without saying goodbye.

Talking Style
...with Mopan and Dwalin


“I think I would chop him in the throat, then head-butt him when he leans forward to clutch his throat. How about you?”

“I’d get ‘em wit’ my axe.”

“…and him?”

“Wit’ the axe.”

“I think I would start out with the thousand palms techniques and then close-line him with the steely arm. What about the archer in the corner?”

“The axe again.”

“I would lure her into a false sense of security by buying her a drink and dazzling her with my smile, then throw the drink in her face. While she was blinded I would hip toss her and then finish her with a flying elbow off of the adjacent table. How about that man and his son?”



“Look, the axe always works. They don’t move after the axe.”

“You could at least head-butt one of them. Maybe step on their foot with those ugly shoes you have…”

“… the sharp end. Into their body. End.”

sigh “You remind me of my grandfather. Always just one move. I guess it works if you keep with it. The Smith’s Hammer is pretty legendary back in Calim Port. Still, it would be far more amusing if you mixed up the techniques a bit. Maybe striking with the butt of the axe. A nice paddling with the broad side…”

The Adventures of Mopan and the Bog of Reverse Mermaids
as transcribed by his manservant Ebrik Longhammer


Home is where the food is

I wake up screaming. It was all a dream. My head hurts and everything looks fuzzy around the edges and I feel like I have been trampled by a stampede of trolls.
Where am I?
I take a look around at us and we all look like we’ve all escaped a tar pit in this forest. We look an awful mess.
FOREST? Wait a minute what?
Is this the Ardeep?
This is the Ardeep!
Hahaha I’m home!
How did we get here? Wait, I DON’T CARE! We’re free from that terrible swamp window! My adventuring days are over! I can go home to the Honey Hollow and eat until I explode! I can’t wait to tell Ma and Pa about these maniacs I’ve met. Like Mister Bird. Who looks so angry he is going to hit this black wall. Wait. nononono NOOOO. I wish I was swifter than Mister Bird’s anger but before any words come outta my mouth, Mister Bird strikes the tree that has cursed my life since it showed its ugly black head in Garrett’s forest. His dumb staff hits the dark hard bark and the loudest gonging possible rings throughout the trees, through my body, through my soul and shatters my mind and scrambles my brains. People are shouting and I’m trying to scream across the muted muffling of it all and then Mister Dakin makes a face I’ve seen Garret make when he’s trying to comune with the plants and he’s screaming- as if his whole world has shattered into thousands of tiny shards of glass and he’s inhaled it all into his lungs and is trying to scream it all out but it won’t matter. Nothing matters now.

This damned tree. This damned tree is wrong. This can’t be the same tree. It’s grown in sickening size. I haven’t been gone that long, have I? It’s tripled, no quadrupled in size. What the hellebore has happened since I left? It’s miles around! Nettles and Nightshade! I can’t fix this. There’s no way I can fix this. Who did I think I was to try and fix this? I’m just one tiny little person and I’m trying to take on the impossible. I can’t save the forest, I can’t save the town. I tried to find help in Waterdeep and now they’re here and we have just as much knowledge of it as I had before I left. There’s nothing I can do. We’re done. I am helpless and hopeless and useless and I’m so sorry Garret. I wish I was better than this. And of course I start crying. Stupid, big baby.

Pull yourself together Blossom. Home isn’t very far and crying isn’t going to do much good, is it? Nothing like a good home cooked meal to help you get your senses back. At least I’m home and the least I can do is show my tired friends the hospitality of a Blossom family meal. After trying to convince Mister Dwalin there’s not much else we can do we head the few miles south to the Honey Hollow and at least I feel that much better.

As we are making our way home, there’s something not quite right. We must have a visitor because there’s that gnome I first saw in Waterdeep! What’s he doing sitting out front, smoking a pipe with Briar! Ma and Pa don’t seem bothered by it at all, but boy is he strange. He sees me and starts talking t me as if I’m his best friend. He might be touched in the head because he keeps talking like he’s lived here his whole life too, although I wouldn’t put it past Ma and Pa to let the poor thing think what he likes.

Mister Dwalin seems a bit put off. It’s probably the gnome making him feel unwelcome. He’s saying he wants to trek into town-that’s 4 miles back! Mister Dwalin is stubborn as a mule and totally refuses to stay. Pa’s got plenty of room here. But off he goes.
We try not to trek muck into the house, at least I’m not, bcause we are still covered head to toe in that awful filth back from the swamp. There’s a bit of a kerfuffle as Ma tries to find some new clothes that’ll fit these big and awfully strong men and Mister Mopan thinks it’s decent to just strip off his things in the hallway! WHY IS HE ALWAYS GETTING NAKED! The only thing I can do before the only thing he’s wearing is a smile is to magic a grass skirt onto him. Now Mister Mopan is walking around our home in nothing but a grass skirt and a mustache. Dear me.

to be continued…

A fleeting thought (will be changed; just a quick tease)

“Fitting…he leaves the world in the same manner he left on his grand journey: without saying goodbye.”

Arrival in Delimbrayn
And Nothing Bad Ever Happened Again....

The ring glowed brightly with Arcane power which leaped out toward the sigil etched on the floor and the portal yawned into existence. My companions and I shared a brief exchange of glances and stepped inside. The feeling was indescribable, strange, and yet somewhat relaxing. I don’t know when it happened but at some point I fell into a deep sleep and felt my consciousness pulled from my body. I was suddenly in a desiccated swamp, all around was rot and decay and the air was thick with the scent of putrefaction and death. I looked around and saw that Silence and Willow were near me but they were different. They appeared to be composed of pure shadow and darkness, I looked down at myself and saw that I was like them. I was about to voice some concern of this strange turn of events when Silence began moving through the bog with purpose and so I waved for Willow’s attention and we followed.

Walking through the swamp proved no easy task as unlike the previous marshlands this one was coated by a thick gray viscous substance. This substance caused me grave concern but I didn’t know why, only that I did not wish to remain there long. The path we travelled led out to what appeared to have once been a pond, but instead of water it was just a large pit of the gray…Goo. As we neared this ‘clearing’ I saw Silence tense and stopped in my tracks. From out of the fogged over ‘pond’ came a soft chanting which, at first, I couldn’t make out. I wish that inability to comprehend had persisted. Unfortunately the chanting intensified, moved and thrummed and seemed to fill the gloomy air as it reached its frenzied crescendo. That is when they emerged. They appeared to be roughly the same size of the lizardfolk we’d just previously worked with, but instead a reptilian appearance they looked more fish like. With swords, javelins, and spears out on display and a menacing gleam in their eyes we readed for combat.

They moved through the muck with uncanny ease and it didn’t take long for us to see that they also had numbers on their side as well. But that didn’t deter us as Silence and Willow moved in on the nearest of them as I remained back to provide support in the form of a rain of Eldritch Blasts. Confidence seemed to turn into carelessness as these opponents proved much tougher than expected, the battle was wild and chaotic. At several points I could almost swear a storm had appeared nearby as a number of lightning strikes fell quite near to where we fought. Eventually we managed to regain the upper hand and as the last of the creatures fell I began to feel a pull and all at once I was no long in that fetid swamp and my eyes fluttered open.

I was back in the portal as well as my own body once again, I had just begun to acclimate when I felt another pull this time on my actual physical being. Some force seemed to be attempting to divert me from the portal’s true destination, as the pull intensified the Arcane writings and symbols stained into my skin started to heat and flare with incredible pain. It was as though my so called ‘masters’ did not wish to let this intruding presence alter their plans for where they willed me to be. This struggle continued for what felt like hours when suddenly the pain from my markings began to subside, as if the ones who pull my strings figured out what the presence intended and thought the result to be…..amusing. This is all I was able to perceive as my body and essence were still recovering the effects of the metaphysical tug-of-war, and as I began to black out I felt a lingering and chilling sense of childlike delight emanating from the far off vistas my ‘masters’ call home.

With a flash I was deposited out of the portal onto a dawn soaked patch of dirt road.

“That’s becoming quite tiring.” I groaned out loud, as much to myself as to the rest of creation. I dusted the tattered remains of my robes and cloak. I saw that I was not alone and that Silence was standing off to the side of the road staring at the northern horizon. Following his gaze I saw that we were standing on the crest of decent sized hill and that the road led down through a forest which opened into a wide meadow and in its middle sat a good sized town or village. However the most dominating feature of this view was that of a massive black tree that seemed to be a bit further north of the village. Silence and I stood for a moment transfixed.

“That’s probably not good.” I said dryly, Silence evenly nodded in agreement.

“We have to go there don’t we?” I asked already knowing the answer, Silence repeated the nod.

“Well, lets get going.” I sighed as we began our walk through the forest.

We moved for some time rather cautiously but after a while picked up our pace. After following the road till midday we could see that our destination was near, that wass when we passed another traveller. He was an oddly dressed little man approaching from the north, as he drew near we could hear him muttering to himself.

“Heh, tiMe tO LEAve. Yes. YES. yes time… leaVE.”

Silence moved toward the old man, as he did I saw a shimmer slide over his face causing his horns to disappear and his skin color change to that of a pale human.

“Excuse me sir” Silence said in his usual hushed and even tone, “but could you tell me why it’s time to leave?” The man stopped and turned his head slowly to face Silence his expression shifted that of great exuberance.

“Why IS it time to GO?” He began to stutter and cackle, “’s t.t.TIME to go oh because..heh..its time TO GO” He started to continue along the road as Silence just stood there watching him go. I just had open my mouth.

“Sir, could you tell me the name of that town?” He stopped again and turned his head back at a clearly uncomfortable angle with a wide manic grin stretching across his face.

“HAHAHA!”, His laugh was loud and shrill and cold, “NAME? HAHAHAHA No More Need for NAMES now.” And with that he once again continued on his way, bellowing insane laughter until just as he was a few yards away he simply vanished into shadow.

Silence and I stood there in the road for a moment dumbfounded (at least I was).

“Well he seemed all right.” I said to Silence, my words dripping with sarcasm, and with that we made our way to town.

Upon our arrival we saw a farmer working his field, as he was also close to the road we approached him.

“Hail travellers as I can tell by the looks of ya, and that the sun be settin’ as we speak, ya probably lookin’ fer a place ta stay the night.” He shouted out brightly, I could tell that Silence had something else on his mind to ask but before he could the farmer continued “Will the Inn is just up the road there a bit, maybe just another good five minutes a walkin’ or so. They got good food, good drink, and as I can attest to when the missus gets inta a bit of a mood, good soft beds.” And with that he returned to his work.

“Thank you for the information sir, but do you mind if I ask you about that tree?” asked Silence. The farmer shuttered a bit and his face went pale.

“Uh..uh..oh well would you look at that, heh, I..I..I guess its later than I figured. Ti…time to knock off then, good evenin’ gentlemen.” Silence tried to interject over the farmer’s rambling, but still he left. I could see a cold glit appear in Silence’s eyes for a moment, but before I said anything it seemed he realized there was little point following up with the farmer in..that..manner.

I let out a long breath as finally found the Inn and after Silence spoke with the Barman, and I had a bite to eat and a bit to drink, I headed for our rented room, collapsed on one of the beds and fell swiftly into the first good sleep in months. Though as I slipped into the comforting darkness I knew that any rest and ease gained from it would likely be short lived.

and it feels so good

I awoke surrounded by darkness. When I felt the pain in the back of my head I breathed a sigh of relief, I was still alive. Then the darkness of despair gave way to the light of freedom as my faithful friend Whiskers, the Faithful, aided in my escape from what appears to be potato sack. I couldn’t remember how I had gotten there. But with the help of Cookie and his delicious snacks I soon realized that Paige’s funeral had been attacked by a dragon, and being that dragons are no fools took out it’s greatest threat with a surprise attack. I knew I had to find my friends to see if they where safe, so Whiskers ,the faithful, and I immediately left for the village of Delimbrayn. If my friends were still alive they would know to meet me there.

After we arrived it did not take long to find Cheery’s house (the village folk were friendly, if a bit odd, but I suppose living under a death tree can do that). Whiskers, the Faithful, and I arrived heroically, dusted in the experience of the road, our feet caked in the mud of knowledge, our brows dripping with determination, our stomachs growling with anticipation of reuniting with our friends, and allowed myself to fall unconscious as a feint. When the coast was clear, I awoke myself, and found I had been placed in a large sleeping room I immediately began looking for whiskers, The Faithful, and found him in the dining room with four half-lings eating some cheese off a plate when they saw me whiskers, the Faithful, ran over happy to see me, the Half-lings introduced themselves as the Blossom family. The two older ones where Dagwood and Holly, but insisted on being called ma and pa, the younger ones where called Briar and Juniper. (who like being called Briah and Gin) They gave me food and I explained why I had arrived at their doorstep, they where visibly impressed by my many heroic deeds. Holly said Whiskers, The Faithful, and i could stay while we waited for our friends just as long as Whiskers, the, Faithful promised to stay out of the pantry. It didn’t take long before i saw them walk down the road. everyone was there, Bird (Who looked worried about something) I think I’ll call him Sparrow, yes, that sounds right. Mopan was as flamboyant and funny as ever always putting on a show to lighting my spirits in the wake of Paige’s death. Lin was as happy as ever to see me, (he hides it), though he opted to stay at the inn in town (He probably ran out of mead) and Cheery who now that I think about it hasn’t stopped talking she must be important, important people never stop talking, I interrupt to announce that dinner was ready and we would be happy have them stay with us.

After dinner Mopan, that silly guy, went off to town in just a grass kilt, hes so funny. It wasnt until morning that I realized I had been drugged by an unknown assassin, that coward killed some poor Tiefling in his bed and got blood everywhere. But I suppose its none of my business, we need to kill that tree and help the blossoms grow.

Fish Fry
Silver lined storm clouds

As we are standing on the porch I notice we are not alone in this scary swamp. Several fishy looking armed figures start appearing. They look smelly. I ask Mister Bird if he’s seen them too because I don’t want to be accused of being hysterical. He really seems out of it though so I turn back to alert Mister Mopan—who is really the embodiment of a whirlwind in a stout mustachioed dwarf—and he is through the door, at the ready for a brawl. This raises the attention of Mister Dwalin. He seems a bit more interested in learning more about these would be assailants and there’s not much I can tell him about their numbers or protective gear. The dark shady light in this terrain did not reveal much to my eyes. As the two of us make our way out the door and on to the porch, chanting begins. My hands get slick. I start to make out the words.  THEY’RE TALKING ABOUT DOING UNSPEAKABLE THINGS AND FEEDING US TO SOMEONE.

I am going to be sick. But that has to wait because there’s an earthquake! I try to latch on to Mister Dwalin to steady myself but we all take a tumble into the muck. I’m thrown flat on my back and as my eyes pop back up to the front of my head, I watch as THE HUT WALKS WAY. WHAT IS HAPPENING—HOUSES ARE THROWING US OFF AND WALKING AND WE ARE GOING TO BE FISH FOOD! I try to get a good look at what’s happening but it looks like we are going to be surrounded if we do not get up and out of this stuff. The fish people are moving faster in this gunk than we are. I’m struggling to rise and I hear a snap and a plop. One of the fishmen falls to his demise. It looks like Mister Mopan has very scarily and easily snapped his neck. He looks pleased. Chauntea help me my comrades are maniacs! But what can I do? There are too many shadowy figures in the distance and most of my training was helping crops grow in Delimbryan. I can’t move anyway. I can’t move? I CAN’T MOVE.


I look over to my right and Mister Dwalin is also stone still. WHAT IS HAPPENING? Bodies are moving and I hope none of these fishmen see me as a threat. Or as food. I try to break free. It works? I shouldn’t be in this mix. I make my way around the fighting. What do I do? How can I help?



I pray to Chauntea. I pray to Silvanus. I pray to anyone who will hear my meek voice and I call upon a storm cloud to strike down lightning to my aid.

AND OH MY GODS I JUST FRIED TWO FISH GUYS RIGHT IN FRONT OF MISTER MOPAN—I don’t want to kill anyone! All of my teachings so far have been to help things grow! But they don’t take a fall. They just smell a little crispy and I try to make my way toward Mister Bird as our two dwarf comrades are battling it out but everything is moving fast. There’s fishmen everywhere, either dead on the ground or assaulting us. Theres something happening above. My storm cloud shouldn’t be this powerful. There’s more rumbling in the sky and the air becomes more static, my hair is rising. I’m not doing this—this isn’t right. The thunder roars in my ears. I know what’s going to happen.
Lightning strikes down and everything is illuminated and I’m blinded by the starkest white light. The sick smell of singed hair fills my nose as everything starts to fade to black and I’m falling.

I’m standing in a wheat field-a beautiful sea of gold. A sudden breeze rises and the sheaves of wheat shift in undulating waves. It’s close to harvest. I close my eyes and I can hear the sound of the sea with my feet firmly planted in this field. This wheat field is familiar; comforting. I raise my hands to touch the beards of the grain. It brushes the palms of my hands and I scratch my palms from the tickles. I hear my name being called and I open my eyes and look towards the sound. In the distance I can see Ma and Pa Blossom standing out front of the Honey Hollow.


Smoke is rising from Pa’s pipe. It’s probably his favorite mint tobacco. He’s got his arm around Ma’s waist. She raises her arm up to wave. I wave back and she calls to me again. Speeding around the hill, Briar and Juniper come running from the back. He’s obviously done something to start a chase and I laugh. Juniper is on a mission to catch him and Briar is…

The wind is knocked out of my lungs and I’m struck down to the ground like the weight of the world is pressing down. Everything feels like I am dying. All the nerves in my body are screaming. The pain is excruciating. I need air! With all my will power, I try to look up to see an assailant but the sun is in my eyes. I raise my arm to shade my face and I’m on alert. What just happened? I raise myself up from the dirt. Dirt? No, leaves. I try to catch my breath and inhale deeply. The scent is refreshing and clean and woody. I hear my name being called again. This time it’s a man’s voice. I recognize it; I haven’t heard this voice in a long while. Am I dreaming? The pain has subsided and I take a look at my surroundings. I’m in a wood now. The crunch underneath my feet tell me it’s beginning of fall. The light is shining through the boughs of the trees and dapples the forest floor. I know these trees. It’s the Ardeep.


I hear his voice call my name again but the sun shining through the boughs makes it difficult to see where he’s calling from. As I make my way by the oaks and the beeches, I reach out and briefly pass my hands over their familiar bark. There’s a clearing ahead. Everything in it bathes in the warmth and light of the sun. Garrett is bent over in it. He looks like he is inspecting the growth of some flowers. He looks up towards me and stands up to his full height. He’s as tall as a redwood. His beard looks like it could use a good combing because as far away from him as I am, I can see that nature has left him some parting gifts in his beard. He’s smiling and he motions toward me.


I start running. My vision starts to blur as tears start streaming down my face. I blink them away and the trails they leave make my face feel cold as I run. Just as I am about to reach the space where the sun illuminates my Garrett, his wrinkled old face turns to laughter as he sees me coming. I fling myself to his open ar—and I’m thrown down like the force of a thousand Dwarven hammers have struck me and my body is strewn across the forest floor and leaves are flung aside as I hit the ground. It’s the same pain as before. My body is on fire. I’m gasping for air. I can’t breathe!

My vision starts to blur and I try to focus. No. No. NOOO. The light fades; I can’t see! I’m so tired. I just want to sleep now. I succumb to the darkness and float into nothingness.


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