Story building #5b

Alisa smiled a little, "You're a manipulator."

"I like to think of myself as an outcome engineer," Claude replied. "Besides, if they want to waste their time looking for a dinky old sword, they may as waste their money too." He watched as the treasure hunters faded in to the crowed at the Redington spring fair. 

"And those flower chains you sold them?" Alisa raised her eyebrow.

"Festive and conducive to merry spirits." Claude said as he stored their gold in a hidden drawer of his wagon.

Alisa rolled her eyes at her guardian. Though he was nearly thirty-seven his personality as well as his body were  twenty-two. "Well then, since I'm clearly not going to miss anything I'm going into town to have a look at the wares."

"As you wish. just be sure not to get locked inside," he said with a trace of concern.

"I won't almirra (elvish term: adoptive father), I'll be back well before dusk." With those words, Alisa mixed into the churning throng. Claude then took this moment to go behind his vardo and see that his cows and bulls were in want of nothing. 

While he was out of sight, a dwarf approached his vardo. In this land, dwarves were seldom adventurers. Most preferred to stay in their mountains, or else if they did travel they were merchants. None the less, there were some dwarf adventurers and all of them were treasure hunters.

This particular dwarf treasure hunter was names Kil'ador. He had after many long years, finally found out how to locate a very precious magical item. Unfortunately, he had also discovered that only people of a certain blood lineage could access its chamber. As such, while the other members of his team purchased supplies, Kil'ador sought out a soothsayer to locate someone who could aid the effort. 

Kil'ador strode up to the vardo with dwarfish purpose. He jumped, as much as a dwarf could, up the four steps into the wagon.

Then he froze in place, caught in awe of the interior of the vardo. In the doorway rested a dozen beautiful flower chains. Beyond them were cabinets and drawers made of gleaming spruce. From the roof hung shelves loaded with chests and crates. In the center, covered with a dark green cloth, was a round table. But what really got Kil'ador's attention, was the polished silver mirror on the surface of the tablecloth. It was pure, that much was certain to the dwarf. It was unlike any other mirror the treasure hunter had seen. It shined more purely than any but the best silver, with a slightly concave surface, lining the edges were ruins of a language unknown to Kil'ador. He drew nearer to the mirror, his dwarfish heart enamored by the unknown value of the mirror. So enamored was he that he neglected to even notice the shelves of books beyond the table. Nor did he notice second door to his right. The door through which Claude returned.

"May I help you, dwarf?" Claude asked with eyebrows raised. Kil'ador took a guilty step back and fumbled for words.

"well, um, er, ya see, erm."

Claude cut him off. "You're here to seek my mystic guidance in order to locate something of great value is that it?"

Kil'ador shook his head a little. "No, a person," he said,"a person who has the power to access something of great value."

"A person, huh, that may be a little tricky." Claude rubbed his chin. "Tell me what you know about this person and I'll see what I can do."

So the dwarf explained about the lineage and how he didn't actually know the name of the person. However, he did not open up his plan to Claude. Nor give any hint about what item it was he was searching for. While he listened, Claude put away his mirror into a cabinet. and began to extract and replace various items as Kil'ador told what he knew. First there was a bundle of herbs, he put these away when Kil'ador admitted to not knowing the person. Next there was a flask of some brackish liquid, Claude put this away when Kil'ador didn't know the name. After that a pouch of needles, and after those some brownish paint. Finally, when Kil'adore finished, Claude reached up to the shelves hanging over their heads and removed a large leather bag full of clattering objects. 

"This will do it." Claude said as he took a seat behind the table. "Although, this method will be rather expensive for you."

"If it works I will gladly pay," Kil'ador answered.

With a nod, Claude dumped the contents of the bag onto the table, and out came dozens of knucklebones inscribed each with a rune in the language from the mirror. With quick movements the soothsayer plucked out four knucklebones from the pile. Holding the four in hand, he brushed aside the pile leaving a clear space in front of him. 

Claude extended hand, and in his palm the knucklebones seemed to quiver for a moment. With a flick he cast them into the air. They fell to the table, two rune down and two rune up. 

"You'll need to travel south east." Claude said chrisply. "I've enchanted these knucklebones to point out this person you're after. Each rune stands for one of the four directions. This one is East." He raised the knuckle bone to show Kil'ador. "This one is South" he raised the south rune knucklebone. "This one is West" he displayed that one as well. "Which means the last one is North." Kil'ador inspected the north rune for himself. "The best part of this enchantment is that anyone can use them now. Just give them enough of a toss to move and they'll align with the direction of your query. The only thing that will stop them is a shielding spell, but if that ever happens they'll just lead you to another descendent who happens to be closest" 

"Very fine, I'm sure" Kil'ador muttered. "For what price are they mine to use?"

"I see you are one who knows the value of things so I shall give you but my lowest offer, twenty-eight gold pieces, seven per bone." 

Kil'ador inwardly groaned, he could afford twenty-eight in gold but only if they were to set out on foot. This was far from Kil'ador's plan, but the soothsayer seemed honest about twenty-eight being his lowest price. So, he decided to barter.

"Alas I could not part with that amount of gold." He said using his best market voice. "Perhaps I could interest you in this dwarf crafted appraising glass, as a fair trade." 

Fair was stretching things a little, this glass had been purchased for only ten gold pieces. However, the finery of dwarf craftsmanship was rare in Redington and so Kil'ador hoped the difference of value would be  overlooked. 

Claude reached out his hand to receive and examine the glass. "It is of good value, but it alone is not enough." Claude paused and leaned forward a little. "Since you don't wish to part with your gold, include that smaller dagger of yours and I will consider this a deal done."

To Kil'ador this seemed a fair trade, and so left the wagon tossing and catching the knucklebones, confirming the location and beaming with success. Claude for his part, swept the other knucklebones back into their bag and grinned at the acquisition of his new appraising glass, and at such a good price.

Story building #4b

     An hour passed and the warmth of spring woke Alisa Fellgreen, the ward and apprentice of Claude. She peeked her blonde hair and angular face around the curtain to see that her second cousin was asleep on his mattress. For indeed, Claude’s cousin had been her mother, until disease took her mother away from both of them. This was more than ten years since, Alisa had been nine at the time. In the years since, she had come to love Claude as her father, and teacher. In spite of those years, however, she was still amazed by how soundly he slept even in the light of morning. He didn’t as much as stir as she dressed nor did he even shift when she knocked over the milking bucket. Alisa left the tent to attend to their cows, and gather wood for a cooking fire.

        Alisa was a half-elf; her father had tired of her mother when she was very little and left them both. Her mother was Mira Pythian, and by extension Alisa herself, belonged to a small family of scribes. When Alisa’s father left, Mira took refuge from rejection by joining a merchant caravan and working to write contracts and translate gnome and elf contracts. When the time came, and Mira knew she was to die, she contacted her cousin and asked that he be her guardian. This decision came because half-elves have almost twice the lifespan of most humans, and Claude was the one person who might understand how she would have to live. Claude was a soothsayer; he arrived a day too late to speak to his cousin but in the years since her passing had cared for her daughter, his second cousin, with the love and attention of a protective father. As a result, Alisa has grown into a kind natured, well-traveled, and clever young woman. Much to Claude’s pleasure, she was also a promising soothsayer apprentice. 

Story building #3b

        The morning sun swept up over the young green treetops of the misty woods. As it did, six humanoid figures emerged from the trees, each wearing a hooded cloak. They were greeted by their tired comrades and worried families. One particularly bulky individual was pulled into a bear hug by a shorter, but no less bulky warrior. Another of the figures was tackled by two small bundles of energy. While the other three were received with a comparable treatment, one resting a bow against his shoulder slipped away to the south end of the liberator camp.

        At the edge of the camp, set apart from the closer gypsy tents was a vardo wagon with several ayrshire cows grazing beside it. Alongside the wagon was an adjoined canvas tent branching to the east. The polished wood of the roof began to gleam in the emerging sunlight when the archer entered into his tent-wagon home. He heard the gentle breathing of his ward behind a curtain of canvass. He removed his cloak and boots as quietly as he could and lowered his youthful, but tired body onto his bed. A bed that was made of twisted straw and lavender, which belonged to Claude Pythian.

Background #0 b

Fortunetellers

        Also called oracles, fortune tellers are the best known users of magical foresight. They devote nearly all of their skill to divination and seem to see the very turn of the universe.

Key Skills

·       All forms of divination

·       Curses/blessings

·       Aura manipulation

·       Potion making

Unique Abilities

·       Psyche work

·       Some forms of divination

Social Standing

       Most Fortunetellers are gypsies or hermits. Their focus on fate effects them: it leaves them without a practicle view on day to day. Seldom trusted, gypsies are visited by desperate or curious people who want portends or hints of how to be successful.

Details

·       To enable their more powerful abilities, Fortunetellers live their lives following one of three lifestyles.

·       In contrast to soothsayers, fortune tellers use very few talismans. Items of the trade such as tarot cards and oracle bones are focuses for the fortuneteller’s magic, they don’t have magic of their own.

Background #0 b

Soothsayer

        A practitioner of magic with the ability of foresight. Soothsayers use and make talismans for skrying and divination. They are known to be a step ahead at all times do to their inner focus on the events yet to come.

Key skills

·       Most forms of divination

·       Mystical intuition

·       Enchanting

·       Longevity

Unique abilities

·       The dream snare

·       Some forms of enchanting

Social Standing

        Often working their way into courts of nobles, soothsayers use their foresight and skrying for influence. This same insight makes many people uncomfortable about them. Not that it matters much, a good soothsayer usually knows what they need to anyway.

Details

·       Foresight and mystic intuition wax and wane. The best soothsayers go through this cycle with of a year of strength with a month or two of weakness. An amateur goes through one good month with two bad months.

·       Use and construct talismans very well. As a class they are second to enchanters. Especially things like locators, warning devices, and “lucky charms” that grant a small level of mystic intuition.

·       Unlike fortune teller, soothsayers do not often concern themselves with fate or destiny. A soothsayer will tend to focus on the actions of the present and near future. This shift in focus leaves them superior to fortune tellers in obtaining details but often limits the reach of their foresight.

                                                        

Free Writing # 2b

        Sir Lawlend crouched down in the brush as he caught sight of the slavers. There were a lot of them, at least thirty. He reached down and placed his hand on his sword as the muttered words of a prayer arrived at his ears.

        “Are you sure about this?” Sir Lawlend asked the muttering voice. “There are more of them than I’d thought, and your soothsayer claims one of them is a wizard.”

        “Yes, the plan will work.” The voice answered. “Just get their attention off of the slaves and it’ll be fine.”

        “Did your soothsayer tell you that as well Arron?” Lawlend snorted.

        “No, I’m telling you that.” He paused, “Although, it looks like he was right about the wizard, check out the cage.”

        Lawlend looked over where Arron indicated and saw a cage being pulled on a wagon. In the cage, the knight could make out five, maybe six, very pale figures.

        “I don’t understand.” Lawlend whispered.

        “Those are elves,” Arron explained. “The only way so few men could kidnap elves has to be by using magic.” An owl’s hoot passed through the air. “That’s the signal, get ready.” Sir Lawlend grasped his sword, and leaned forward onto the balls of his feet. Arron hefted his spear in his hand and raised his shield.

        The slavers drew level with the hidden liberators and shouts sounded along the path. The slavers line surged to one side. Flame lit up a tree as liberators scrambled for cover. Lawlend bellowed as he quelled a slaver, and charged bravely as only knights knew how to do. His sword deftly blocked a mace. His fist cleared the way forward. His chainmail absorbed the impact of the wizard’s arcane blast which knocked him and Arron back against the trees.

        Unseen, emerging from the trees opposite the liberators came six figures in hooded cloaks. They were seen by a slaver who was near the cage. An arrow ended his sight as he caught the first glimpse. A knife in the back felled another guard. A garrote met the third as a bulky arm crushed the fourth’s neck. The figure with a bow drew alongside the cage and, in elvish, spoke words to calm and comfort them. A second figure drew up to the cage and began to fiddle with the lock. After a moment, he had the lock open and the door opened with a creak. One of the slavers, who wore a robe embroidered with runes, turned sharply toward the cage, until an arrow burrowed into her back. Once the arrow met its mark, the flames in the trees died out.

        A sharp eyed lookout in the trees saw five pale figured leave the cage wrapped in green and grey cloaks. The lookout also saw six hooded figures take defensive positions around them and slink back into the trees. He lifted a whistle to his lips. A piercing note broke through the ruckus of the skirmish. The liberators retreated back into the darkness as suddenly as they had arrived.

free writing #1b

        In the land of fairies and folklore, where magic is real and adventurers’ stories are made, at the edge of the misty woods laid the camp of the slave liberators. The liberators never bothered to give their group a name, nor did they care what people called them. To the knights, they were gypsies and mercenaries. To the laypeople they were mysterious travelers not to be trusted. To slavers the liberators were a headache and a half. To slaves, they were a dream and a whispered tale for children.

        They numbered, in their height, eighty-seven strong. However at this time it was a mere forty-three and not all were strong. Among their members were many castes and occupations; there were mercenaries, troubadours, gypsies, farmers, craftsmen, a family of blacksmiths, a soothsayer and even a fallen knight. Not among the members but in their company were the families of members, as well as a few servants and allies to the liberators’ cause. They were mostly human, a couple of the mercenaries were half orc, and there were elves of the misty woods visiting and living among the liberators who lived at the border of their land.

        As the evening sun set at the end of its daily voyage, inhabitants of the camp began to dwindle, disappearing into the woods.