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Mad Mage Chronicles – CH4

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Breakfast With a Plan

This story is part of a longer series based on the published adventure “The Dungeon of the Mad Mage”

Krodan Mess Hall by TylerEdlinArt on DeviantArt

The bar is silent at sunrise. It is a also a mess with tables flipped to their side, a thick layer of sticky smelly mud coats the floor, and a young tired man lazily sweeps up the bits of broken glass scattered throughout.  A few patrons sleep off the night of drinking, slumped over on the floor or over a table. They snore loudly as the few disgruntled looking employees carefully clean around them. It’s quite a sight to see The Yawning Portal in it’s tranquil state.

Diljaris and Roakala are the first to come down. Diljaris in her usual chipper deadener gleefully galops down the steps while Roakala slinks behind her slowly. Her eyes half closed in her exhaustion. Her feet drag over the wooden boards. They sit at a table and Diljaris orders breakfast as Roakala’s slumps over the table and hides her face in her arms. “Why so early? We are the only people up this early” she says in a tone muffled by her current position.

“Well my dear” Diljaris responds as she begins setting up her workplace “We have a lot of dungeon to uncover and we are really behind.” She begis to neatly place before her books and journals and pens. Each placed neatly in their designated location.

Roakala raises her head slightly, her chin still touching the table. “I’m just here for the money, is there a way I can just join up with you later”

Diljaris smiles “So your intention is to join then?”

“That’s not what I meant” Roakala hides her face in her arms again.

“I need to see how well you do in combat before we can properly talk about you joining my group” Diljaris says as she studies her half conscious partner.

There is no response from Roakala except some heavy breathing.

A few minutes pass before Drungar and Gorak come down. “Good morning! I hope we haven’t been keeping you waiting long” Drugnar says extatically, his voice filling the room.

Diljaris who had been busy writing responds “I wouldn’t make tardiness a regular thing but it’s fine. Please join us eat we will depart after breakfast.” Before her, the table has already been set with a small feast of eggs bacon and toast.

The two men sit down at the table, filling their plates with the assortment of food. Gorak points to Roakala “What’s wrong with her?”

Without lifting her head Roakala lets out a muffled response. “It’s too early” is what the party can make out.

They begin to eat breakfast in silence. Diljaris writes in her journal, taking small nibbles here and there. Eventually Roakala lifts her head and eats from a plate Diljaris set aside for her. “So” Roakala begins, her mouth still full of food “you got a plan princess?’ Bits of egg  spray out from her mouth to the table.

Diljaris looks at the bits of discarded egg with disgust. “I am not a princess!” she responds, sounding a bit annoyed. “Of course I have a plan”

“Are you gunna share it with us or is this a you thing?” Gorak chimes in.

“Oh you meant for today. Well we are going to go down into the dungeon and find a few monsters to fight. I want to see how compatible we are as a group.”

“How much are you paying us for that?” Roakala asks.

“Well if we find anything while we are down there, we’ll split it evenly. Remember, I have yet decided on your membership status”

“This is a lot of danger for a test princess. I think it’s fair that we get a bit of compensation. Maybe some collateral in case you don’t make it back.” Roakala adds, reaching to get more eggs.

“Well I did pay for your meals and lodging and I did save you from that mob you incited. I think I’ve compensated you plenty”

Roakala looks at her plate full of eggs, thinking for a moment before letting out “I could have taken ’em”

“Well” Diljaris says smiling “There shouldn’t be much danger for someone of your skill set. If what you say is true that is.”

“Hey” Roakala responds, slightly agitated “You don’t have to worry about me. I ain’t just talk.” There is a moment of silence as the three stare at the half-orc who wears a pugnacious look on her face. The scents of breakfast fill her flared nostrils. She seems to calm and sighs “All I am saying, moving forward, Ima need more than just breakfast.”

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There is a small lift that has been built against the old well at the center of the bar. It is made from a small system of pulleys that attach to a wooden platform big enough to hold a small party of adventurers. The party finds itself in front of its sleeping operator. He is a older man with grayed mangled hair and an untrimmed beard and an untidy appearance. He sleeps soundly leaning against tower wall.

“Excuse me sir?” Diljaris says as he pokes the man gently. He jumps suddenly, staring back at the party who now surrounds him. It takes him a moment to regain full consciousness before finally asking “What do you want?!”

“We would like to go down, can you please give us a lift?”

“1 gold each” he grumbles.

“1 gold? You have to be kidding me? What if we take the ladder?” Gorak points to an old dirty ladder that goes down the side of the wall.

“It’s a gold either way. Are you going or not?” the man snaps as he stares down the party.

“Can we give you 2 gold and take the stairs?” Drugnar asks as he starts counting coins in his purse.

“Look I don’t make the rules. I just sit here and charge the fee. If you have an issue, take it up with Durnan. Pay up or leave” The man was clearly in a foul mood.

The party looks at each other with undecided looks in their eyes. Roakala is clearly angered by the man’s disposition. Her first ball up tightly as she takes a step towards the man, but before she could say a word, Diljaris interjects “Alright that’s fair” She pulls out her coin purse “4 gold it is.” Diljaris hands over the four gold and places the purse back in her pocket. “But we would like to use the lift”

“Yeah yeah, hurry up. Hop on” The man says, putting the coins in his pocket.

The party squeezes into the small wooden platform. The wood is worn and dirty. The wood creeks as it bears the weight of the party. Despite it’s rugged appearance, the lift is well built.  The man begins to work the pully and the party begins its slow initial decent into the dungeon bellow. The darkness begins to hug them as the echoes of their decent bounce about the stone creating the a mountainous melody of their first adventure. They watch as the bar moves farther and father away until it is a small skylight. They land on the soft murky sand with a jolting thud. Gorak lights a torch. The light washes over the darkened walls revealing an explosion of colorful graffiti. Here the, names and words written in all the languages come together to form the story of the countless adventurers that have walked over this sand and through the old wooden doors. Confined in this small room, isolated from everything the party stands in admiration and excitement as boots crunch into the dirty sand. Fingers trace against the crumbling colored stone while Roakala digs through the pills of discarded refuse.

Her old glove digs through. Her fingers stop as they touch something hard. She pulls out a dirty clumping ball, perhaps something ceramic? She wipes it on her tunic, spitting on it every so often. The sand and mug begin to fade under her diligence, revealing an ivory colored orb. On closer inspection, she makes out a blackened iris. Staring back at her, a finely made glass eye sits on her hand.

“What did you find?” Drugnar asks as he moves towards the orc.

Roakala turns the iris so that it stares back at the dwarf. “Looks like someone is walking around with half their eyes.” She chuckles as she palms the eye and places it gingerly in her pocket. “What do we do now?”

The party looks at each other as the echoes of the lift returning to the top encapsulates them. They turn to the door. It seems out of place within its place on the wall. Surrounded by old dirty stone sits a freshly stained door on new hinges. A minute goes by before Drugnar finally breaks the silence. “I guess let’s see what’s behind door number 1.”

Photography, Poems

Bridge Over Water

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Shot with an iPhone 12

There is a river that sloshes against the man made bank. There are waves that crash against the pillars. There is a family of ducks that has learned to call this place home. I’ve seen them and watched them grow.

There are lines here that were meticulously crafted. That were designed and left behind and now they sit here overlooked and abandoned. How can something so important be lost and disregarded?

I hear the sounds of the car engine as it passes over me. I hear the echoes of the wheels going over pavement bouncing off the walls. I watch as it disappears down the street and I wonder if they thought of me too.

I listen as the waves crash on the man made bank, as the waves crash against the pillars. I feel the cool morning breeze against my face and watch as the sunrises over the city scape. I wonder if I can call this home yet?

D&D

Mad Mage Chronicles – CH3

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Human and a Dwarf walk into a Bar

This Story is based on the published Wizards of the Coast advetnuter The Dungeon of the Mad Mage.

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A young man and a dwarf arrive in Waterdeep as the town begins to close for the night.

The young man is in his 20’s. Tall and slender with dark brown hair that he keeps short and neatly slicked back. He has brown eyes and light brown skin. On his back he carries a quiver full of arrows and a finely made bow. His clothes aren’t new, but they are well kept with a few patches of dirt that have settled from their travel.  His partner is a stout dwarf with grey skin. His black hair is fixed up in a neat pony tail and his beard is neatly braded. He wears plated mail armor and a hammer swings at his side. On his chest, a small silver symbol of Paylor bonces against his chest as they walk.

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They walk through a street where tired looking  vendors carry boxes and crates into shops or load them onto large wooden carts. One vendors smile at the newcomers and tries to make one last sale. The dwarf buys a couple apples and asks for directions to the Yawning Portal.

They continue through the streets of Waterdeep, twisting and turning through alleys as directed. The citizens of Waterdeep sit on their porches and watch the pair as they have loud exchanges of stories, jokes and the town gossip. The pair are hit with the smells of industry mixing with the sweet loving smells of traditional dinners. There is laughter as kids chase each other through the alleys. Lanterns begin to go up as the sky darkens.

Finally they turn the corner see the old face of the Yawning Portal. It is an older building made from ancient stone. It looks out of place here, yet it is the center of it  all. It’s old wooden doors let out loud screeches that echo off the buildings around them. The pair step over a drunkard, careful not to step in his vomit. A group of rowdy adventures stumbles past the pair, singing the incoherent song of inebriation. And as the sun begins to set over the skyline, they can see the light of the flickering hearth that casts the wild dancing shadows of its patrons on the surrounding buildings. They can hear the murmurs of singing chanting and shouting. The bar is alive and the two are unable hide their excitement.The dwarf takes a deep breath, the smell of stale alcohol and cheap tobacco fills his lungs. “Well boy, we made it” the Dwarf says with a giant grin on his face.

“That we did my friend” says the young man as his hand clasps onto the dwarfs shoulder. The pair take in scenery like one would a sunset. A man stumbles to the corner of the bar and throws up against the wall but they don’t seem to notice.

Finally the Drawf taps the young man at his side “Come let’s have a drink!” The Pair take an eager step towards the bar.

Inn Of Heroes by atomiiii on DeviantArt

Without glancing at the sheet the young man responds “Well if you think if it’s a good idea, count me in. I’ll follow you anywhere brother”

The Dwarf nods as he pats the young man on the shoulder “It’s settled then, let’s go find this Dil-Jar-Us or whomever” the Dwarf says as he walks towards the bar. “But first, a drink!”

The young man follows the Dwarf to the bar. The barkeep is busy handing out drinks and doesn’t notice the pair. The Dwarf pulls up a stool and places his hands on the sticky counter and waits patiently. The young man watches the crowd and laughs at the jokes he overhears. Finally the Barkeep comes to the dwarf “What are ya havin?”

“We need food, drink, and information” says the Dwarf as he pulls up a stool to sit at the bar. His feet dangle over the stool. The young man stands besides him, watchful of the room.

“Food and drink we have. As for information? That depends on the kind you need”  The barkeep starts filling mugs.

“We are looking for the person who put this up” the Dwarf places the flyer on the bar and pushes it gently towards the barkeep.

The barkeep reads it. He chuckles and places the mugs on the sheet. “That’s an easy one. They’re sitting over there” he points to the corner to Diljaris and Roakala.

“Do you know anything about them?”

The barkeep shakes his head and shrugs “They just came in today. The dragonborn girl wants to start an adventuring party.  That’s all I know”

The Dwarf nods understandingly and places a silver piece on the bar. He thanks the barkeep and move towards the Diljaris with drink in their hand. “Howd!” Says the Dwarf Loudly, trying to get their attention. “My associate and I are here to inquire upon this here job listing” The Dwarf places the piece of paper on the table. “Might it be alright if we join you for a parlay? We don’t mean to impose of course” The young man watches the Dwarf in clear bewilderment.

“Of course you may, we would be delighted. My name is Diljaris Eshbis and this is my friend Roakala”

“We’re not friends” murmurs Roakala

“Oh right, excuse our rudeness, we’ve been on the road for a while now. My names is Drugnar Oathhammer and this is my companion Gorak Truthseeker. The pleasure is all ours of course” the Dwarf nudges at the young man’s side.

“Nice to meet you” Gorak replies, clearing his throat. He seems watchful of the pair and eyes over the Roakala suspiciously.

ArtStation – 2016, CHANZ Z

“Is there a problem?” Roakala asks aggressively, slamming her spoon down on the wooden table.

“Why are you all the way out here? Shouldn’t you be with one of the clans?” Gorak asks.

“I’m a half Orc. I never joined a clan. Is my presence going to be a distraction?” The vein on her temple begins to throb. She grinds her teeth and begins to reach for her sword.

A blue scaled hand reaches over the table. “Now Roakala, there’s no need for that.” Diljaris turns to Gorak who is also reaching for the dagger at this side. “And you need to be more sensible about what you say. That was rude and uncalled for. If you want to join my team you will need to be respectful of your teammates”

With a worried look on his face, Drugnar steps forward. “Please excuse my friend. We’ve been away from civilization for so long, he’s forgotten how to interact with people. You won’t have any problems from us, isn’t that right Gorak?”

Gorak’s hand tensely hovers over the dagger as he continues to watch the Orc. He remains silent as he studies the orc before finally relaxing and responding “Yes, we won’t cause any more trouble” Gorak sounds defeated as he sits down at the end of the table and begins to eat his bowl of stew without speaking

Diljaris smiles and responds “That’s quite alright, we understand” Roakala stares down the Dragonborn who doesn’t seem to notice. Diljaris flips to a new page in her journal and continues “Well down to bussiness. Why do you think you would be a good addition to our team?”

Drugnar brushes his beard as he ponders before finally saying  “We are great warriors and have travelled quite a distance to be here. We have successfully escorted merchants across the country. We saved a small mining village from goblins. If I continue to list our achievements you will find we are quite an impressive pair”

Diljaris diligently takes notes. Gorak peers over at the page of neat yet quickly scribbled draconic symbols. Diljaris turns to him “Do you have anything to add?”

Gorak is stunned for a moment as he ponders “I’ll shoot anything you need me to and this old man right here is the best medicine man you’ll ever need” he turns to look at the Roakala “What do you do?”

Roakala, who was in the midst of drinking her ale, puts down her mug and responds dismissively “I kill things with a sword”. She continues to eat her stew in silence.

“I’m not surprised” Gorak sneers

Roakala stands up, shaking the table almost spilling the bowls and plates that shake violently as they settle. “Are we gunna have a problem?”

“Only if you want to have one orc” Gorak says as he stands up, again reaching for his dagger. A grey heavy hand comes down on his shoulder and pulls him back. He attempts to resist but he wasn’t prepared and the hand pulls him back slightly, breaking his aggressive stance for the moment.

“This isn’t the time for that Gorak!” Drugnar says angrily. “These ladies have done nothing wrong except invite a couple of brutes to join them for dinner. Now apologize and act right.”

Gorak clenches his fists. He stands motionless at the center of the group, staring back at the Orc. Roakala mirroring his aggressing, her nostrils flare as she is ready to attack if given a reason. He takes a deep breath as his eyes meet with Drugnar who looks back angrily and disappointed. Gorak sighs as he moves his hand away from his weapon.  “Sorry” he finally says sullenly and sits back down.

Drugnar turns back to the pair “Please don’t this incident affect your decision, he’s just not used to people”

“You mean Orcs?” Roakala scoffs.

“Look we can do better, let’s start over. We would love to join your party, how much does it pay?”

“Well” Diljaris replies, examining the pair “if I decide on your eligibility, everyone in the party is subject to an equal cut to all treasure and payments we receive during our time together. That is of course if they are able to earn it?

“And how do we go about becoming eligible?” Drugnar continues, looking over the notes she continues to scribble neatly into.

“Through a simple trial. The first step you are already a part of. The next step I, if you move on, will be trial by combat. We will go down into the dungeon and you can properly showcase your skills there. But let’s not get ahead of ourselves. Why are you here? What do you want to achieve?”

“Well my friend, I need the money and any amount helps. My young excitable friend here wants to make a name for himself. They say those who are able to explore this dungeon in it’s entirety will gain access to unimaginable riches and become legends in the process. Is that reason enough?” Diljaris continues to fill the pages with notes. She mumbles to herself in draconic. A few moments of this pass when the dwarf turns to Roakala and asks “Is your friend ok?”

Roakala shrugs “She’s not my friend, I just met her today”

“Oh hush Roakala. We’re friends, you just don’t know it yet” She says as she shuts the notebook with an audible thump. “Well after careful review of all of the potential candidates I have come to the decision to move you all to the next phase.

“Aren’t we the only candidates?” Roakala asks.

Diljaris ignores the Remark and continues “You have proven to be the most promising of the lot. Congratulation. Now eat up, get some rest we start tomorrow morning”

“Err what are we doing?” Gorak asks, breaking his brooding silence.

Diljaris perks up and smiles sweetly. Her tail wags back and forth slowly. “Isn’t it obvious? Down into the Dungeon”

Photography, Poems

The Clouds Roll in at Midnight

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And as I watch the clouds roll in, I’m hopeful for the rain. I’m hopeful for the change they will bring and the new day ahead.

It is easy to get hung up on the small inconveniences life brings. Like rain or having a bad day. It’s even easier to waste time trying to control every aspect of life seeking perfection, but life isn’t perfect. Life is as unpredictable as a Summer storm and the truest test of character is having the ability to roll with fates unpredictable flow. Adapting and persevering is part of the human experience.

Be hopeful and keep moving forward.

Shot with an iPhone 12

Photography, Poems

Today is a Fireball

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Lately I’ve been contemplating my own mortality. A natural step in the human experience. It unavoidable truth that forever looms over us the moment we step out of the womb and despite trying to forget it’s existance, it is a truth that is forever present.

I wonder if animals ponder on this too. If in the late state of their cycle, they sit and reminise on the good times and count the days till it’s all over. They say when cats know they are about to die, they find a place to die in secret. I wonder if they do so to spare loved ones from knowing loss.
 
And I’ve known loss, as you probably have. I have known the pain of not having someone around and it broke me. And I think about my aging family. I think about how they can no longer run after me or toss me in the air. I watch as they go in and out of hospitals. Every surgery or diagnosis weighs on me heavily and I wonder each time if this might be the last time.

I wonder what our last memory will be. Will I get to say goodbye? Will it be recent? Will anyone be there to remember me?
 
A man I know once said:
 
Tomorrow is not garanteed. The health you have today may be gone tomorrow, so make sure you do what you have to today.
 
 I think he may be on to something.

Today I will wake up and watch the sun rise. I will watch as the family of geese feed on grass and bugs. I will hug my family. I will watch the sunset. Tommorrow? Who knows about tomorrow, I’m just sipping my coffee and enjoying today.

Image shot with an iPhone 12

Photography, Poems

Grass in the Wind

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A single blade of grass.

Watch as it flows with the morning breeze. Watch as it is wisked away by outside forces. It’s future is predetermined. Its expiration date has been set and yet it still stands tall, uncaring or unconcerned.

 Today it waits for the sunrise. It enjoys it’s majesty. Tomorrow it could ffall and disappear under an emerald current. Or be carried away to make a home for a bird. Gone, leaving in it’s place an empty seat for all who remember it.

Soon a new blade of grass will come to replace it. One with new memories, ideas and dreams. And although it might share the same fate, this one will be different. But this one will stand proudly too.

Shot with a Nikon D90

Photography, Poems

Morning Routine

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Shot with an iPhone 12

When I was younger I used to rise before the sun. I would hear the ringing of the alarm clock in the other room and listen to the shuffling that followed as the house filled with the sent of instant coffee. I would pretend to sleep as my mother would come and gently raise me from feigned slumber. It was time for work.

I remember as we drove through cold streets lit with sickly yellow light from old lampposts. I watched as my mother wiped the sleep from her eyes as the radio played the local Spanish station.

I liked to watch the houses. I watched as the army of those who woke before the sun sit in their cars. Watched as the smoke of the exhaust floated up and mixed with the morning mist. I wondered if they also had a sleeping child in the back seat.

I remember pretending to fall asleep as we turned the corner to my grandmothers house. I liked when my mother would carry me in. I used to watch as her headlights disappear as I drank hot chocolate that was always waiting for me as the kitchen filled with the scent of handmade tortillas.

That was years ago. Today I still rise before the sun does. But today I sip on black coffee as I watch the sunrise reminiscing on the good times had.

Photography

Architecture in Negative Space

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It is through the perfection of life that we see beauty. I find that it is in the mistakes of the world where true beauty lies. There is an obsession with the standardization of beauty. Rules and guidelines that define a very limited definition of beauty. And when we expect life to be a certain way and follow certain structures we tend to miss the basic elements that make life beautiful. The blemishes of life is what makes the human experience unique. We must learn to celebrate these imperfections and embrace an unorthodox and unregulated definition of what it means to be beautiful.

Shot with a Nikon D90

D&D

Mad Mage Chronicles – CH1

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A Dragonborn’s Listing

This story is based on the Wizards of the Coast published adventure “Waterdeep: Dungeon of the Mad Mage” and there will be spoilers.

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They say that the city of Waterdeep has no permanent residents. That the people here just pass through on their journey to greatness. That it’s population is made up of this revolving and refreshing supply of adventurers and those who make money off of them. I have lived here my whole life, and there are others who have too. Although this lawless town seems to be a step for many, it is a home for a lot of us. Some say it is this place’s curse that keeps us here, trapped within the city limits. They say that it is the madness that was left behind from a different time that is embedded in the roots in this town. A madness that we are born with but that those who come to visit catch like some common contagion. A contagion that has slowly spread throughout the world and now it draws them all in, from all walks of life, from all parts of this miserable world. The magical curiosity to see what really lies bellow the Yawning Portal.

The Yawning Portal is a bar built on top of the ruins of an old mage tower. It is the only entrance we have to the dungeon bellow it. Most people who come flock to this quaint bar built on ancient stone searching for something. They say that deep below the dungeon are rooms filled to the rim with boundless treasure. They say that down below, in the farthest reach of the tower is a great library that houses the knowledge of everything including true power. Some people come to make money, to line their coffers with gold so they can ride into the sunset and live like royalty. Other’s pass through those doors expecting to come out the other side with the power of gods. And yet other’s come here for the thrill of the adventure.

But this town isn’t a forgiving one, and that dungeon even less so. It chips away at the hope and spirit of those who dare descend into its darkness. Some never lose the allure, and continue to make the trek day after day. Others return frightened and broken, treading their sword for a ride home, never to return. Others never return and their bodies rot away in the darkness, alone until another group of adventurers or beats stumble over them. It takes a special kind of crazy to venture into the dungeon. It takes a special kind of insane to keep going after the fact. Maybe the madness is contagious and there really is no treasure down there, just the side effect of delusion.

But this story isn’t about the city, it’s curse, or the countless adventurers this city eats up. This story is about the few who descended to the deepest parts of the tower and conquered it all. 

[OC] My Yawning Portal Inn! : DnD (reddit.com)

It is around noon when Dilrajis Eshbis, a blue Dragonborn, walks into the bar. The double doors screech loudly as they swing wildly behind her. The bar is mostly empty except for a few people  who are too busy with their drink to look up. She looks onto the random assorted tables and benches that orbit the large well that sits at the center of it all. The remnants of an old wizards’ tower and the entrance to the dungeon. She looks onto a bar where a lone large burly man is busy cleaning glassware. Behind him sit neat stacks of large barrels, a couple with spouts sticking out of them.

 As she looks into the bar, she notices that some people clean the tables. At the center of the bar there is a large well that sticks out of the ground. A large winch is propped up beside it, holding a wooden platform over the whole. There is a large bar across from her, lined with bottles made from different colored glass collecting dust over the large wooden barrels stacked neatly behind a burly man who slowly cleans at a glass. Above those are shelves lined with glass bottles made from glass of assorted colors.

Dilrajis pulls back her hood revealing bright blue and green scales that seem to shine even in the dimly lit bar. Her bright yellow eyes turn to a large wall covered in sheets of yellowing paper. She takes a deep breath, her nostrils filling with the thick stale scent of ale and old tobacco, and takes a step towards the wall covered in paper. She clutches at a piece of parchment in her left hand. In her right hand she holds a long staff plane staff that lands beside her in rhythm with her steps. She stops in front of the board and reads over the different posters. She glances over wanted signs and advertisements until she stops at a point near the center of the board. She ponders for a second before placing the staff gently against the wall and carefully pins her piece of parchment on the wall. In neat calligraphy the page reads:

Adventurers wanted. Only the best will do. Searching for a group of likeminded and strong individuals who want to conquer the dungeon. If you are interested, ask for Dilrajis Eshbis.

She studies the page with a smile on her face. Her tail wags in the air. She seems to linger on it’s message for a few minutes before she picks up the staff and walks towards the bar. She walks up to the man behind the bar who is still busy cleaning a mug.  He has a long neat greying beard. His hair is put back in a tight and messy ponytail.  A few strands of hair poke out. He stands a bit shorter than the dragonborn. He doesn’t look up when she approaches but continues to clean the glass he is holding.

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She places her hands on the bar and sits on the stool. Her hands stick to the counter. She lifts her hands from the bar’s surface and rubs her fingers together, trying to get the mysterious substance that now coats the surface of her hand. For a brief moment, a look of slight disgust creeps over her smile, but she composes herself and the smile returns. She clears her voice and with a clear and confident voice she says “Excuse me, Hi. Yes. My name is Dilrajis Eshis, it is a pleasure”

Dilrajis extends her hand towards the barkeep. The barkeep stares at the blue extended hand and continues to clean the glass in his hand before he lets out “Can I help you with something”

“Well” Dilrajis responds as she awkwardly puts her hand away “I would like to admit I am a big fan of this place. I have come from far away to take care of the little problem you have in the basement” she says as lets out a laugh. The barkeep is no longer looking towards her but continues to clean through the box of mugs that sits in front of him. “Maybe you can help me with something, I want to start a powerful adventuring party. Do you know anyone that is looking to join one?”

“Look kid, this ain’t that kind of place. If you want a party, you gotta find one yourself. I serve food and drink” he says, picking up another mug to clean.

“Ok, that’s fair. Well if anyone asks about my poster, I will be over there” she says as she points to a table in the corner.

“That’s paying customers only, you can buy something to drink or you can fuck off”

Dilrajis nods her head in agreement as she takes out a small leather pouch and starts riffling through it’s contents. The sound of clanking coins fills the bar. She pulls out a silver piece and responds “I will have a drink and a bowl of food please.” She places the coin on the bar table. She takes out another silver coin and places it on the table “and this is so you don’t forget to send any proposing adventurer my way.”

The barkeep grabs the coins and bites them. Satisfied with them he puts them in his pocket. He grabs one of the mugs and goes to a barrel to fill it. The mug fills with dirty amber colored liquid that foams over, running down the side of the mug. He places it in front of Dilrajis and a small puddle starts to form around the base of the mug. “Someone will be out with your food. Now if you don’t mind, I got some cleaning to do”

Dilrajis takes the mug of ale and takes a small sip. She winces as the liquid makes its way down her throat. “Thank you, remember. I’ll be over there” she points towards the table in vain. The barkeep is no longer paying any attention to her. She makes her way to the corner of the room. She looks over at patrons who are either drinking in silence of passed out, hunched over tables. She sits on the long bench and places her bag next to her. She pulls out a stack of papers and a book that she places in neat precise piles in front of her. She pulls out a bottle of ink and a pen and starts reading through the large book. She stops from time to time to take a sip from her mug or jot notes down, but as time passes, she keeps her nose deep in a book. Almost as if entranced by its contents.

D&D

D&D Sessions: The Road to Charis

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This is part of a larger series. Check out the full story here!

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It was a warm day when they leave the school. I few birds fly overhead, slightly obscuring the cloudless sky. A light refreshing breeze passes over them, giving them a brief moment of respite from the heat of the sun. Dust settles on their boot straps as they move carefully through the forest. They leave the mountains and the school behind them. It disappears behind the growing canopy. B.U.D. moves the most confident, despite not quite knowing where he is going. His head is caught up on the parameters of his mission. There are a lot of new and wonderous items in this forest and B.U.D. attempts to collect them all. All in the name of the mothership.

Jalila and Tal follow close behind B.U.D., constantly pulling him back to the path whenever he veers too far from the path. Their sighs become as common as the bird songs that follow them on their journey.

“B.U.D. come back!” Jalila yells, sounding more and more annoyed as the day grows longer. For a moment, B.U.D. will follow the directions and walk at stride with his companions, but this is short lived as something new and shiny always plucks him from the path. Tal and Jalila continue after him. Making sure he never gets too far from the party.

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Varus and Zamir keep their distance and watch the spectacle curiously. They are amused by their struggle and never once offer to help. Zarmir chuckles as he watches Jalila and his brother struggle with their large metal friend. Night begins to fall on the party. They are behind schedule but it is getting too dark to move safely through the forest. They search for a safe place to set up camp. Varus builds a small fire.  Zarmir sits and chews on some of his dried rations as he polishes his glaive. Tal begins to prep the various ingredients for a rabbit stew. Jalila finds a tree to lean against and drops to her seat. She takes off her boots and massages her feet letting out a sigh of relief. Without looking up she says “We need to tie you up B.U.D.

B.U.D Claps and replies “I had a busy day! Look at all the data I have gathered for the mother ship” B.U.D begins to set down a myriad of rocks, plants and other odd objects he found along the way. He begins to organize it by type and size, mentally documenting the novelty of each item. Satisfied with their placement, he begins to pop each item into his mouth, swallowing it in turn. He savors the item. Not the taste, B.U.D has no sense of taste, but the new experience he collects from each item. As much as he is proud to have collected items for the mothership, it is his own curiosity in tandem that motivates him to complete his mission.

“So” Tal asks as he chops carrots.  “What’s the mothership?”

“Thank you for asking” B.U.D. replies with a large grin in his face, “The mothership is where I come from. She made me and she gave me my mission.”

“Excuse me? What mission?” Zarmir perks up. He eyes his metal classmate suspiciously.

“The mothership has sent me to this planet to learn all I can about it” B.U.D. continues to eat away at his collection in between replies.

“What are you gunna do with it?” Zarmir grows more suspicious.

“Do? It is my mission to learn everything there is about this planet for the mothership” B.U.D says, excited to talk about the mothership to his friends.

“Why?” Varus asked, also suspicious by the answers.

“Because the mothership asked me too. It is my mission.”

“This isn’t going anywhere” Jalila chimes in “How do you collect data anyways?”

“Oh it’s quite a simple processes. I put the items I have collected into my mouth. They are pulled down into my, I guess you would call it a stomach, where nanobots break down the item to its basic components. I then analyze said components and collect the data. The data is then saved into my memory at which point it is duplicated and sent to the mothership  through a special connection I share with her”

“Ok?” Tal replies, not quite understanding the answer. There is a shared confusion that washes over the group as they try to piece together the nonsense of B.U.D.’s reply. “So, where does the mothership come from?”

B.U.D. perks up at the sound of the question and with his voice full of excitement he replies “Well the mothership has always been. She comes from mothership before that who comes from the mothership before that. And she comes from the mothership before that. And she comes before the mothership before that. And…”

“Ok we get it! But what planet do you come from?” Tal asks.

“I don’t come from a planet. I come from the mothership who comes from the”

“Stop!” Zarmir interrupts, his head beginning to throb ” We get it B.U.D. Thanks” He is unsure what to think of his new classmate or his mission, but he sure is annoyed by B.U.D’s strangeness.

B.U.D. continues eating his collection of items. He wanders a bit as he spots new mysteries around the camp.

The night settles and the only light they share is the fire that sits between all of them. Tal passes out the bowls of hot soup. The sounds of slurping and idle chatter fills the space and drowns out the sounds of the owls and crickets. They watch as the smoke floats away into darkness. Suddenly, a russtling in the forest interupts their peace. They can hear the sound of footsteps crunching at leaves and twigs and moving violently through shrubs and bushes.  Arms reach for weapons. Bowls are placed gently on the ground. Bodies stand up quietly and move slowly to greet whatever it is that comes for them.

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A lone figure steps out of the forest. He is a slender man with shoulder length black hair. He is sweety and dirty. His hair matted from the sweat humidity. He looks at the party as the feeling of fear and apprehension overcomes him.  He throws his empty hands out in a feeble attempt to ward off oncoming attacks and shouts “No wait! I saw the fire and came to check it out. I mean no harm. I’m a bard!”

Zarmir and Varus keep their weapons trained on the stranger. They eye him closely. His clothes are dirty and covered in small tears from travel. Over his shoulders hangs a small worn bag that has begun to fray at the seams.  There is no visible weapon on him. Zarmir moves closer,  closing the distance between him and the stranger. He places the blade end of the glaive inches from the stranger’s chest. The metal rings that line the dull end of the glaive jingle as the blade comes to a stop. Zarmir in a hostile voice says “Who are you? What are you dong here?”

Caught off guard by the sudden hostility, the stranger nervously lets out “Um. I. My name. My name is. Is Rodrigo and I um. Can you please point that somewhere else?” Rodrigo motions slowly towards the glaive and waits for an answer. Without a word, Zarmir moves closer, now pressing the blade to Rodrigo’s chest. The cold polished steel makes a small cut in his tunic. Rodrigo swears he can feel the blade digging into his skin. He swallows hard, his hands start to shake. Cold sweat starts to run down his back. His voice shakes as he lets out  “I’m not. Im not here to fight. I saw the fire and thought you were adventurers. I didn’t want to be alone in the dark in this forest. I’m on my way to Charise. To visit my aunt. I swear that’s all it is. I don’t have any weapons, check my stuff” He drops his small bag by his feet. Zarmir watches Rodrigo closely, still filled with mistrust.

“Back up” Zarmir orders, he pushes the glaive a bit into Rodrigo’s chest who moves back slowly. His hands still shaking and raised. Sweat starts to fall down the side of his brow and glistens with the light of the fire. Zarmir reaches down and opens the bag. He spreads the contents around on the dirt. Within the small bag there is a journal full of stories and poems and songs.  A worn out pen and half a bottle of black ink. There is a flute, polished and delicately wrapped in cloth. There are a few dried food rations and a waterskin that is mostly full. Zarmir drops the blade from Rodrigo’s chest. We walks away from the mess he’s made, back to his bedroll where he picks up his bowl and continues to eat. He watches Rodrigo from the corner of his eyes.

Rodrigo picks up his belongings. Taking long breaths as he tries to calm himself. His hands still shake. “So. Would it be all right if I spent the night here with you guys. I won’t be any trouble I swear.” He slings the bag over his shoulder and waits for a reply.

“I don’t see a problem with that” Tal says as he begins to pluck at his lute.

“Thanks a lot. This forest is no joke” Rodrigo drops to the ground and takes off his bouts. He breaths a loud sigh of relief as he wiggles his toes in the fresh air. “So what brings you guys out here?”

Tal still a bit suspicious replies “We are going to Charis to investigate some issue the village is having.

Rodrigo perks up at the mention of the town. “Wow that’s a coincidence. Would you guys mind if I tagged along for the rest of the way? I can play music, tell stories, jokes?”

The party is silent until it becomes uncomfortable. B.U.D. is the first one to break the silence. He says in his happy go lucky tone “Yes that seems logical. We are going the same way.”

Rodrigo eyes B.U.D. curiously. With the tension settled, Rodrigo looks at B.U.D. for the first time. His metallic body glistens in the light of the fire. It isn’t armor, he thinks to himself. At least not the kind that can be removed. “What are you?” Rodrigo finally lets out, not quite sure what to make of this strange creature. He had never seen anything like this. He pulls out the journal from his bag and begins to take notes. He describes B.U.D. in short bullet points.

Metal humanoid. Seems to speak and understand common.

B.U.D. replies ” I am a Biomechanical Universal Diplomat and I was sent here by the mothership to learn everything I can about your planet. People here call me B.U.D.” Rodrigo starts taking notes furiously, squinting at the letters on the page he can just barely make out.

“What is the mothership?” Rodrigo asks without lifting his gaze from his notes.

“Well the mothership made me and tasked me to come to this planet to gather data. She comes from the mothership before that who comes from the mothership before that who…”

The rest of the party move as far away as possible from the two. Jalila and Tal relieved that someone else gets a turn with B.U.D. Zarmir and even Varus chuckle to themselves as they hear the murmurs of the endless loop that is the story of the mothership.