17 May 2024

I think the two most fascinating part of writing my campaign as a narrative, at least so far, are figuring out how to introduce and balance everyone, and trying to figure out how much to include. It’s a game, after all; some things are easier to hand wave that need to be explained in-story, and other things need to be expedited. This is the first intro; Ayona is an aasimar from Solstrana who’s been wandering for a bit now.

Aboard the Fortune’s Breath, Ayona Svyátoy approached Captain Streisa, a squat, burly woman with bushy red hair, who had a way of towering over everyone around her despite her 5’2” frame. “We’re close, Captain. Should only be a day or so before we reach Setton.”

The corner of the captain’s lip quirked upward. “Good timing, lass. I’ve been meaning to have a chat with you.”

Ayona tilted her head. “It’s… not that large a ship, Captain. I’m not difficult to find.”

The captain guffawed. “But in all seriousness. Lass. It’s going to be a few months before the ship’s seaworthy again. What are your plans?”

Both ignored the wail one of their passengers–some half-elf noblewoman–let out when Streisa mentioned “a few months”. “I don’t know. Find another ship, perhaps?”

For a long moment, Streisa just stared at her. “You need a break, lass. A chance to live life. Maybe make some friends. I don’t know what you’re running from, or what you’re planning, but it’s not exactly the sort of thing you can do alone, now, is it?”

“Sure I can.” It would be bloody difficult, but Ayona could do it. She had to.

That simply elicited another guffaw from the captain and she clapped Ayona on the back, nearly bowling Ayona over. “Well, think on it, lass. Perhaps travel a bit with that group you helped with the sahuagin, eh?”

Rather than reply, Ayona rolled her shoulders. She’d think about it. Maybe.

16 May 2024

This is from that same series of Tumblr posts that inspired both yesterday’s and the recent Rumpelstilskin stories. It went something like this: “You finished the quest and killed the dragon. However, instead of giving you the promised rewards, the townsfolk chase you out. So you do something no one’s dared do. You resurrect the dragon.”

Rumors of the dragon terrorizing the town of Birchwood had spread for weeks, with no news that anyone had managed to defeat it. So Valia had understandably expected the town to be more than a little run down, with its citizens cowering out of sight, any that remained.

Instead, the town seemed as busy as ever. Children played freely in the streets, and well-dressed housewives chatted with each other at the market. No patches on any of the pants or dresses, and Valia caught a whiff of one woman wearing an expensive perfume as she walked by.

She made her way to the adventurer’s guild, noting that the building was far more grand than the guild would require in a town of this size. The silence within only reinforced the feeling; instead of the crowds laughing and shouting among the tables that Valia was used to, the place was deathly quiet with only a couple of receptionists manning the desk.

Valia walked up to one, a younger woman with light brown hair pulled back in a bun. The reception flashed her a customer service smile. “Can I help you?”

“I’m here about the dragon.”

“Ah, yes.” The receptionist handed he a stack of paper. “The quest information is on top; underneath you can find the usual contracts, wavers, etc. Once you’ve finished filling these out, you’ll be free to pursue the dragon at your leisure.”

With a nod, Valia took the paperwork and retreated to a table near the window. The contract seemed fairly standard. The reward was a bit low for a case growing this infamous, though still within acceptable limits, at least as far as Valia was concerned.

Once she finished reviewing and signing everything, Valia took a few moments to stare out the window. A minute or two later, the receptionist came by and brought out a mug of ale. Valia raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t order this.”

“On the house. As a courtesy for any would-be dragon hunters. Unless you prefer something else? Water, perhaps?”

“It’s fine.” Valia turned her gaze back to the window. “Is this town really dealing with a dragon problem, though?”

The receptionist tilted her head. “What do you mean?”

There was a moment of silence before Valia replied, “It’s nothing.” She pushed the paperwork toward the receptionist. “Is there anything else you need before I head out?”

The reception quickly flipped through the stack. “Everything looks to be in order. Good luck on your hunt!”

Valia stood and slunk out the door, leaving her drink untouched.

15 May 2024

This poem is loosely based on a prompt I found on Tumblr through Catelyn Winona; a fantastic short story author, by the way. She wrote her own story based on it, and it got me thinking. I always like it when there’s at least one person who can see both sides.

Notes: For the sake of the meter, I considered “Family” to be 3 syllables and “general” to be 2.

“For what didst thou believe I journeyed here?

Whose fault, pray tell, that I am wrenched from home?

The beast is slain; here lies the demon felled.

And yet thou darest ask yet more of me?

My family to never see again,

Instead to aid the ones that plucked me hence?

If asked of thee, thou wouldst then hail me mad!”

The prince enraged, at first did think to duel

But blessed grace, the general intervened.

He bowed his head; “We thank you for your aid.

Please go in peace. I’ll handle matters here.”

The hero gone, the prince at once exclaimed,

“What treach’ry this? Our country could have saved,

Rebuilt, renewed, but now, the relic lost.”

The general raised a brow and waved behind.

“What’s there to see that’s left of palace yon?

How did it fall? What pow’r did that require?

In face of such, could thou a moment stand?

What fool, pray tell, would trade one foe for worse?

What’s more, he spoke the truth; canst thou deny?

Whate’er our wish, in truth we’ve done him ill.

What reason should he yield his hopes to us?”

Like fish on land, the prince gaped at the mouth.

The general clapped his back and turned. “Well, come.

There’s still much work to build our country new.”

14 May 2024

Reworking the last bit of the previous post, and then continuing from there with Rapunzel’s perspective. Yes, the Arthurian legends are a novel series in this universe; no, I haven’t nailed down which form of “cannon” is the “cannon” of the fictional series. Nor am I likely to stress too much about it.

…”You’re coming with us, aren’t you? I mean, we finally found you.”

Rapunzel squeaked and started to shake her head, but Isaac either didn’t notice or didn’t care. “It’ll be great. Mom and Maleficent will have someone new to fuss over, and you’ll get to finally be with your family. You can learn to be a proper princess, and since you're the oldest, you can take over the kingdom while I discover new things and build foreign connections. Doesn’t that sound grand?”

It was only then Isaac noticed the panic on Rapunzel’s face. She sucked in a deep breath and shook her head. “N-no, it does not. Th-thank you.” Even as Isaac opened his mouth to protest, she turned her back on him. “I think you should go, now.” She snapped her fingers, and suddenly there was no floor under Isaac’s feet. He fell onto a long, winding ramp that never seemed to end, Finally, it dumped him…

Rapunzel took a few moments to catch her breath. When she turned around, though, her face turned bright scarlet.

Phillip stood their, shuffling awkwardly, a strange expression on his face. “Erm. I, uh… Sorry about him. Isaac can be… He’s a bit of a dumbass sometimes.” He scratched his cheek, then asked, “Just checking, but, he’s okay, right?”

Rapunzel curled her shoulders in and nodded. “J-just… He’s just outside.”

With a nod, Phillip scratched the back of his neck and took another look around the room. “Oh, wow! Did you paint that? That’s Percival, right?

Instantly, Rapuzel’s expression brightened. “You read the King Arthur books?” When Phillip nodded, she pressed, “How far have you gotten?”

“I’m all caught up, even with the latest book [author]’s released. You?”

“The old lady just appeared in court and told Percival off for being too polite.” Rapunzel grimaced. “I… don’t actually know how far behind I am. Is that the latest one?”

“They just released the next one after that a month or so ago; it ends at a bit of a cliffhanger, but I love it. The dynamic between Perce, Gawain, and Bors is amazing.”

For a moment, Rapunzel let herself get excited, but then a stray thought occurred to her. If the latest one only came out a month ago, she’d likely never get a chance to see who [author] resolved the latest cliffhanger. She’d barely have time to read the newest book, honestly. Tears started flowing down her cheeks, which sent Phillip into a panic.

“He,:” Rapunzel finally asked. “He d-does know I’m go, going to die soon, right? The p-prince, I mean.”

It took quite a while for Phillip to respond. “I think, for us, we’re still processing the fact that you’re real, not just a story told to keep us in line and away from magic. What that means, for us or for you… I don’t think that’s hit yet. At least for me. And Isaac… well, he’s a bit tunnel-visioned at the best of times. Even if he knows, I don’t think it’s hit him yet.”

13 May 2024

We had the first real session of the campaign this past Sunday, and as much as possible, I want to record it. What follows is my “hook”; a trick from the Candela Obscura rulebook and videos, where before you get into the meat of the story, you zoom out and onto the antagonist or the problem that is the focus for the arc or session. I refined it since the session; mostly, I remembered a bunch of other things I wanted to share, and refined who the villains are this time and how they’re able to do what they do.

Before the broken ship bearing our heroes limps into Setton’s harbor, let me roll back the clock a couple of days, and focus on a certain manor house within the city. As soon as we step inside, we can hear the sounds of revelry, laughter and music, emanating from the banquet hall.

There, we find a smiling musician, all adorned in green and red, playing a set of pipes, watching the proceedings with great interest. An older couple, the lord and lady of the house, dance merrily in the center of the floor to the music, only paying the slightest heed to their multitude of guests when their dance requires they step around or over one of them laying on the floor.

Many of these guests–those lively enough to do so–cheer for the couple as they stuff their faces with the bounteous feast presented before them. And what a feast it is! If we only looked at the quantity heaped on the hundred-foot banquet table, it would be fair to guess the family expected to receive royalty at any moment now. But on closer inspection, this is actually a feast most foul; many of the dishes are covered in flies, and appear to have sat on the table for days.

Yet the guests do not care. They will just as gladly stuff their gobs with the maggot-covered pork roast as the chicken and rice casserole the maid–herself in a trance–places fresh out of the oven onto the table.

Off to the side, both ignoring and ignored by all the ruckus, a young nobleman sits in an ornate chair, a young lady on his lap, all pretense for propriety banished. The young man bares a striking resemblance to the lord of the house, even down to his striking red hair. The young lady pulls a knife from the folds of her dress and draws it across her palm; the young man kisses it, gently lapping at her blood. 

Then, from his own pocket, he pulls out a vial of a bright red liquid, with a single, slender blood lily petal within. He uncorks it and leans in to whisper directly in the young lady’s ear, “Do you trust me?”

She nods, and the vial barely touches her lips before she downs it all, and slowly grows limp in his arms.

Meanwhile, the lord and lady of the house bring their dance to a close. They bow, first to the audience and then to the musician. The lord claps twice and announces, “Well, my friends, it is time for us to be off! But you are free to accompany us. Won’t you join us for an even grander Revel?”

He and his wife don’t wait for a response before they turn to leave. Instead, the musician trills a curious series of notes, and all the guests, even a number of those lying unresponsive on the floor, stop what they’re doing and stand up. Each of them shuffle after the lord and lady of the house, eyes glazed and sappy smiles on their faces.

The musician rises to follow, but the young man called after him, “Shall I begin gathering the next batch, dear friend?”

With a flourish, the musician bowed to him. “If you wouldn’t mind, ‘twould be most appreciated, my good fellow.” Then he skipped after the group who’d just left, a jaunty tune playing from his pipes.

11 May 2024

More lore for my D&D world! This isn’t necessarily super relevant to my campaign, but the region described was the focus of my previous campaign, and played into the dynamics there. And who knows? Maybe it will matter more than I think. That’s the nice thing with having information handy; it’s easier to come up with ideas if you already have options available.

The Kadrashan War

A little over three hundred years ago, the region around Kadrashal used to be a verdant jungle, with a number of great cities. Unfortunately, perhaps because of their great wealth, many of the ruling class started making deals with all manner of devils, allowing the fiends more an more free reign within the country.

This did not go unnoticed, and under the banner of the Radiant Queen, two great armies formed. One hit Kadrashal from the north, including forces from the barbarian tribes of the north, Solstrana, Duladel, Marruecos, Piege, and even a small contingent of Serni elves. The other, coming up from the south, centered around the great army of the Tailong empire and their dragonborn allies, though the hobgoblins also sent a large force of their cavalry. One of Essayna’s heralds, the lioness Sekhmet, even came down to joining the battle.

Trapped as they were, the witch-king of Kadrashal hosted a massive ritual, sacrificing hundreds of his citizens to open a hole straight to the Nine Hells, which in turn corrupted the region. Even Sekhmet herself was tainted by the infernal energy, though the significance of that would not be discovered until the war was over.

However, the portal gave Essayna enough leeway to intervene directly, and the Radiant Queen herself led the charge to purge the region of both the devils and their allies. The clash of her divine flame and the infernal corruption scoured the region until the land itself burned, and the once-lush jungle was transformed into the sandy desert it is at the present day.

The lingering effects in the population turned many into tieflings, regardless of their dealings or lack with the devils, and the majority of the following generation were born as such. Over the course of the war, combined with her corruption, Sekhmet developed a monstrous thirst for blood, and had to be sealed by Essayna to prevent the herald from turning on her allies. Many of the armies returned home, though many, including several orcish tribes, opted to settle nearby instead.

10 May 2024 part 2

This is a poem I wrote introducing one of the major antagonistic factions in my D&D campaign. Kind of a blend of Greed and Gluttony, with ties to both vampires and the fae and faewild shenanigans, like the Pied Piper of Hamelin. Quite macabre, to be honest, but that’s part of the fun, isn’t it?

Welcome! Welcome!

Come, dance the night away!

Won’t you join our Revel?

Throw all your cares away!

Mind not the smell of rot

Nor dear guests, now deceased

Just listen to my music

And partake our glorious Feast

With luck, you may be chosen

To spread our Feast abroad

To bring folk to our Revel

And sip their precious blood

10 May 2024 part 1

So, this is a fresh attempt at a prompt I used back in October of 2022. I started thinking about it randomly, and came up with a different approach, so I figured, why not? I definitely had fun with it. I may come back to it and add more, but no promises.

Rachel’s last thoughts weren’t about her family, or her college classes, or her friends. They weren’t even about the idiot who’d been driving drunk and swerved onto the sidewalk. No, herr last thoughts were, “Oh, good, the dogs are safe, at least. Ms. Haversham will be relieved.”

So perhaps it is little surprise, then, that shortly after her soul arrived in the Underworld, she found herself in Hades’ office, presented with a very unique job offer.

Rachel blinked, then looked from Hades (who looked like he’d been chiseled from ice, not born), up to the eight-foot tall hound slobbering over everything with all three of his heads.

“You want me to take Cerberus for a walk each day?”

“Indeed.” Hades steepled his hands in front of him. “Your era seems to have a dearth of ‘heroes’. At least, of the kind of idiot to parade into the Underworld uninvited. So there’s been fewer people for Cerberus to wrestle with and get his energy out. Conversely, with the increased population, I’ve been busier than ever, so…” The god let out a sigh and flashed the giant dog an apologetic smile. “Well, I haven’t had the time to take proper care of him myself. So anything you can do would be greatly appreciated.”

Rachel opened and closed her mouth, looking for something to say. She looked up at the giant dog featured in so many myths and stories. “Huh. Well, uh… I can do my best?” Quite frankly, if Cerberus decided he wanted to go somewhere, Rachel was certain she wouldn’t be able to stop him.

9 May 2024

This was a fun one. I saw a post somewhere (Tumblr, I think) with a prompt of a fae lady requesting the individual’s firstborn, and the individual asking when she could come meet their parents, taking it as a wedding proposal. That reminded me of Rumpelstiltskin and the story I started back in 2022 and never continued. This… doesn’t line up perfectly with that, and it is designed to stand alone, but I do think it’d be cool to eventually forge them together into one larger short story.

Desiree sighed as she stared at the massive room filled with straw. This… this sucked. Even with all the tips and tricks her fae friend had taught her the night before, it would still be a close thing, spinning all this to gold be morning.

And it wouldn’t stop there. Desiree knew as long as the King thought he could squeeze more gold out of her, he’d keep forcing her to spin. No, she needed a plan, a way to free herself from this wretched tyrant.

She hadn’t gotten far into her musings when the door opened and Prince Theodore–or Teddy, as he was more commonly known–stepped inside. “D-Desiree? We n-need to talk.”

Desiree spared him a glance. He was short, with curly brown hair, and he couldn’t stop wringing his hands. He looked nervous at the best of time, but his shaking was even more visible now. She focused back on her spinning. “What is it?” She was perhaps a bit more curt than was strictly proper when speaking with royalty, but Desiree felt she had plenty of reasons to be upset.

“F-father said if you succeed, h-he wants me to m-marry you. K-keep you close.”

After that bombshell, Desiree did stop spinning. “Well, shit.” At Prince Teddy’s shocked expression, she added, “Ah, sorry, it’s just… You’re nice enough, don’t get me wrong, and you don’t look bad or anything. You’re just…really not my type.”

Teddy nodded, and even sighed with relief. “I… That’s good.”

One eyebrow raised, Desiree got back to spinning. “Oh?”

A furious blush burst across Teddy’s face. “I… um… Do you know Lady Alexia?”

“I’ve heard of her.”

“Well, we are – were – engaged. She’s… she’s amazing, and… I-I want to make her happy.”

Alexia, huh? She had a reputation as a beautiful, albeit domineering woman. She was also one of the few nobles actively trying to make life better for her citizens. Desiree eyed Teddy and nodded to herself. They could be quite cute together. “So, what are we going to do?”

Teddy hemmed and hawed, but in the end, he could only shrug. Desiree barely restrained a groan. She hesitated a moment longer before she sighed and pulled out her fae friend had given her.

Not even a second after she blew it, a hunched figure appeared in the middle of the room. He was only a couple inches taller than Teddy, with ears that were far too large and eyes that were far too sharp. His beard was long and scraggly, in desperate need of a trim, and his clothes were worn and full of patches.

For all that, though, Desiree was growing rather fond of him. Unlike most fae, he didn’t bother with a glamor; what you see is what you get. That was a kind of honesty Desiree could respect. He had a dry wit, too, that she had grown to appreciate over the last couple nights they’d spent together.

When he arrived, he looked between Desiree and the prince and scowled a little. He glanced around the room–twice the size of the one he’d helped with the night before. “The king sure is a greedy one. I wonder what all this gold is for?”

Desiree eyed Teddy, but he just shrugged. Guess the prince wasn’t privy to the king’s secret dealings. Desiree sighed and turned to the fae. “That’s… actually what we need your help with. If this continues, the king’s just going to get greedier. We read a way to… deal with him.”

Teddy blanched at that, and the fae turned to him. “Is there a problem?”

It took a second for Teddy to catch his breath. “N-no. It… it hurts, a bit, but… My father i-isn’t a good man. Or a g-good king. She’s right.”

The fae looked at Teddy with newfound respect. “And what do you have to offer?”

Desiree grimaced. What few items she had of sentimental value, she’d already given him. What hadn’t been taken by the king or her father, that is. She kicked at the small pile of gold she’d already spun. “I don’t suppose you’d be interested in the gold I’d spin from this room, would you?”

The fae just gave her a flat look, at Desiree deflated. Then Teddy offered, “What about me? I-I’m the prince, I’m sure–”

“Anything you offer comes from the king’s hand, and I’ll not force the man to pay for his own assassination.” He grinned cruelly. “No matter how much he may deserve it.”

Teddy gulped, swallowing his words, while Denise graned and banged her head against the spinning wheel. “Well, what’s your idea? What do you even want?”

For a long moment, the fae said nothing. Finally, he replied, “A child.”

Stunned, Desiree sat up and stared at him. “A child? You want a child?”

The fae nodded. “Your firstborn.”

It felt like Desiree’s mind had jammed up. “Is… Is that some weird marriage proposal fae use?”

For a moment, no one spoke. “What.”

“It’s just,” Desiree tried to explain, “among humans, we at least ask people out before talking about marriage, much less having kids together, and I’d kind of always dreamed my proposal would be a bit more romantic, and I only just figured out I kind of like you that way anyway, and–”

It was at this point Desiree realized both men were just staring at her in stunned silence. Her face boiled red as she closed her mouth.

Eventually, the fae turned to Teddy. “But… aren’t you two…?”

“Apparently, I’m really n-not her type,” the prince replied flatly. Then he scratched his cheek with a shy smile. “A-and… well, I’ve got someone else in m-mind, too.”

The fae opened his mouth to say something only to close it again. He turned to look at Desiree, who turned even more red, if that was possible. “I… um.” He blinked, then said, “I’m going to go take care of things. Let’s… let’s discuss payment later.”

He vanished, leaving Desiree and the prince alone together. After a long moment, Teddy said, “W-well. At least I f-feel better about being awkward sometimes.”

Desiree promptly sank her face into her hands.

8 May 2024

I think I may have particularly disliked Isaac this day, or I was leaning particularly hard into the idea that he’s the type to get himself into trouble. I do know for sure Rapunzel initially rejects the chance to leave the tower, and I like the idea of Isaac pushing too far and getting dumped outside. I don’t think this is quite it, though; his frustration feels too sudden, too arrogant. He is arrogant, and very focused on what he wants, but not to this degree, I think.

Though the image of Isaac landing on his royal butt outside is fun.

…long-lost sister?

Unless… Was it possible the real Aurora was still he’d somewhere else in the tower? If this Rapunzel was Gothel’s servant, the fairy could well have ordered her to distract anyone from finding Aurora. He didn’t know that he believed that, yet, but it would be nice if it were true.

After around fifteen…

Every wall was covered in paintings, many of them featuring Mother. That… put a big damper on his theory Rapunzel wasn’t Aurora. Isaac noted one of Maleficent directly across from them, and most of the rest featured different women, all wearing blue.

As she entered, Rapunzel rapped her knuckles on the threshold and asked, “Chairs, please.”

To the shock of both Phillip and Isaac, two chairs formed up out of the floor, forming a loose circle together with the central easel and the chair off to the side of it. Isaac didn’t sit down right away. Instead, he walked along the wall. “You painted all these?”

Rapunzel nodded, biting her lower lip. She watched him for a bit longer, as if she were trying to gauge his reaction.

Turning back to face the paintings, Isaac said, “They’re quite good.” Not that he was an expert. Isaac thought he heard a sigh of relief, though he wasn’t certain. He gestured to one that depicted Mother offering a loaf to a sickly urchin laying in an alley. “She’ll be happy to see you again.”

There was a soft squeak, then Rapunzel asked, “I-is she coming here? When?”

Isaac turned around, brow furrowed. “You’re coming with us, aren’t you? I mean, we finally found you. Isn't It time to come home?”

Rapunzel froze, then fervently shook her head. “No. No no no. I-I’m quite alright here, th-thank you.”

With a scowl, Isaac stalked toward the girl. “What?! Look, if you’re really–”

Before he could reach her, though, Rapunzel scooted back and snapped her fingers, eyes wide. Next thing Isaac knew, the floor fell out from under him and he was sliding down a long, long ramp. It finally dumped him, butt first, into the grass at the foot of the tower. Isaac sprang up to rush back in, but by the time he turned around, the wall was already closing up over the hole it spat him out of.

7 May 2024

I worry that I’m making Isaac too judgmental. He is supposed to be flawed, but I need to balance that; not sure. Probably relies on the rest of the narrative before I’ll know for sure—if that’s even something you CAN ever know for sure.

Next to Isaac, Phillip gawked at the Tower, and the way its hallways stretched well beyond the space it should have had. Isaac couldn’t muster the excitement. Even in the most magical place on the grandest adventure he’d likely ever get to go on. Isaac could only stare at the girl leading them onward.

This was Aurora? Really? This cowardly, frail slip of a girl was supposed to be his long-lost sister?

Over and over, Isaac tried to deny it, tried to find some other possible explanation. But each new theory was more outlandish than the last, and the more he thought about it, the more his dreams of adventure seemed to fall apart around him.

After around fifteen minutes, Aurora–rather, Rapunzel–led them to what at first seemed like a dead end. Then she knocked on the wall, and it opened to reveal one of the finest paint studios he’d laid eyes on.

6 May 2024

This encounter is a hard one to get pinned down. I’ve been struggling with planning it out for a while. Part of that is I want to show Rapunzel’s social anxiety in a way that is both accurate and respectful —not sure if I succeeded there or not—but it’s also hard to get the balance of Rapunzel’s and Isaac’s dynamic right. Having Phillip around helps; he’s steady enough on his feet he can balance things out. But he’s also not the focus, so I can’t really overmuch on that.

That’s referring to the next few days of posts; this scene has been my focus for most of this week.

It took an eternity for the prince to climb up the window, and still, he arrived far too quickly for Rapunzel’s peace of mind. He extended a hand. “Hi, I’m Isaac. Are you Aurora?”

Even that was enough to send Rapunzel into a panic. What was she supposed to say? Would he get upset if she didn’t follow courtly etiquette? Was their a special way princesses were supposed to accept handshakes? Would it be better if the prince never found out who she was?

By the time Rapunzel had tentatively accepted the handshake, Isaac’s face was beginning to cramp. So as soon as they’d shook once, Rapunzel pulled back into a corner and tried to breathe.

A moment later, the other boy, who was quite solidly built, crawled in from the window. He took one look at the situation and said, “Oi. It’s not even been a minute and you’ve terrified the poor girl.”

Eyes wide, Rapunzel fervently shook her head. “N-no. I… I’m just, not used to people.”

Isaac frowned and glared at the other boy, but he just ignored the prince. “Huh. Well, pleasure to meet you. I’m Phillip.”

“R, Rapunzel.”

At that, Isaac’s face really did fall. He took a deep breath and put on what Rapunzel assumed was a disarming smile. “Sorry about all that. We’re looking for my sister, Aurora. Do you know where she is?”

Rapunzel’s face turned red as she realized she messed up. Or had she? He mouth opened and closed a few times as she tried to figure out if it would be better to tell them who she was, knowing she’d die soon, or if it would be better if they just never found her.

While her mind spun, the two boys waited a moment before Phillip shrugged and opened the door. They were already out in the hallway before Rapunzel finally called out, eyes closed,, “I-it’s me!”

The two looked back. Isaac asked, “It’s you? What do you…”

“It’s, it’s me. I’m Aurora.” Rapunzel shrank into herself. “B-but please. Please just call me Rapunzel.”

For a long, long moment, no one said anything. Finally, Phillip asked, “Well. Seems like we’ve got a lot to talk about. Do you have a private room or a table where we could sit and be a bit more comfortable?”

3 May 2024 part 2

This is objectively not that great. Not as bad as I first thought, but not great. And perhaps too heavy-handed?

Do I fear the Lord?

Has my heart been changed?

With the knowledge of my soul,

Do I rely on Him?

I have felt this before,

That joy repentance brings.

Do I still live like that?
Can I feel Him now?

We are beggars, all;

But through Him we’re set free.

O Lord, please keep my soul;

Let me fellow Thee.

4 May 2024

And here we finally have the rest of the major gods and goddesses of my D&D pantheon. If you like them, feel free to use them as you wish, though in any public setting credit would be appreciated.

Leilari, the Eternal Rose

Also known as the Beautiful, the Moonlit princess, and She Who Sings, Leilari is the goddess of beauty, and the twin of the Shadowed Princess. No two temples depict her exactly alike; the only consistent traits she has, even within the same nation, are her gender and the flowers in her hair. Stories about her also vary wildly, and with the recent turmoil caused by the Shattered Rose War, a number of more insidious or blatantly false tales about her have spread, and even if they aren’t widely accepted, most have heard a few of them.

Among these include rumors that her beauty was stolen from the Shadowed Princess in the womb, or that she actually did fall from grace during the Great Fiend War thousands of years ago, but has kept that fact hidden from the rest of her divine family. Such theories have generally been debunked, but as anything that fascinates the mind, proof isn’t enough to remove the idea from some people’s heads.

She has power over beauty, diplomacy and dreams. The domains her clergy ascribe to typically focus on Peace, Moon, and Nature domains, though Twilight, Trickery, and Life are also relatively common. There is also a great deal of overlap with the Shadowed Princess’ domains among the Order of the Butterfly, a sect worshiping both goddesses as a set.

Known Heralds:

1) Some sort of magical, sentient flower?

2) Dream Butterfly; kind of like a less powerful version of Pathfinder’s Desna.

3) Some sort of gallant, knightly figure, never seen without his (her?) armor

4) Archfey of some kind?

5) 

Velka, the Shadowed Princess

Also known as the Undying Princess, Heir of Death, the Hidden One, and She Who Mends, Velka is the patron goddess of the lost, the forlorn, and the downtrodden. Perhaps because of that, she is also the deity most closely associated with the undead, especially those who were turned against their will. Perhaps as such, she is generally regarded with some degree of trepidation, particularly among the upper class of society. The Shattered Rose War only heightened those concerns, though rather than dealing with that trepidation by ignoring her worship, many large cities now make showy presentations and donations to her and her faithful, especially during holidays dedicated to her. There is a great deal of debate whether such shows of false generosity actually help or make things worse, but such it is.

She is general depicted as a raven-haired woman with a white porcelain mask covering the left side of her face. Her left hand is withered and skeletal, and she is often depicted as if her left side grew progressively more ghost-like, as if that half of her had already died. (Inspired by description of Hel/Hela in Norse mythology).

In connection to her sphere of influence, her primary domains include Twilight, Death, and Trickery, though almost any domain has been found among her worshippers. There is a great deal of emphasis on the Eternal Rose’s domains, as well, in large part due to the connection forged by the Order of the Butterfly.

Known Heralds:

1) The Forgotten, a deified changeling who is enamored with Velka

2) Alice, the primal vampire, and greatest of the vampire lords.

3) The Beggar, an old man who appears to random people periodically to test them or offer cryptic advice. Curiously fond of the names Haj and Hoid.

4) 

Ariel and Tesla, The Twins

Also known as the Keepers of the Library and They Who Teach, the Twins are the youngest of Life’s and Death’s children. Together, they are the gods of knowledge and magic, but which twin governs which changes frequently. Indeed, it is theorized they freely swap their names between themselves, so a prayer to Tesla, goddess of knowledge, could easily be answered by her brother after he assumes the name.

Unlike their older siblings, their worship is not particularly widespread, generally limited to the grand academies and other institutions of learning. They understandably focus on the Knowledge and Arcana domains, but count many spellcasters among their followers, and most divination wizards often appeal to them as well. Beyond that, perhaps because of their shared status as the youngest of the family, they are heavily involved with the Trickery domain.

Known Heralds:

1) Old dragon currently serving as a headmaster somewhere. Students likely don’t know about either his status as a dragon or his divine status.

2) Prankster of some sort; eternal child? Not quite Peter Pan, but maybe?

3) The Archive, a living, sentient library containing all the knowledge that’s ever been recorded in the world.

4)

3 May 2024 part 3

Yes I skipped over part 2; that is a short, religious poem that I was less than satisfied with. I will be posting that Sunday, so it’s still coming, just not here.

Over all, I was much happier with this attempt. Still not perfect, by any means; I think Lily is still not “present” enough. Not sure how to change that, or if that’s even what needs changing. Just a thought.

The moment Lily began weeping over her little boy, Ida could restrain her own tears no longer. Losing Eric had been hard enough; to lose Johanne as well… Ida couldn’t bear it. Within the depths of her heart, she pleaded, “Why not just take me as well?”

So lost in her own thoughts as she was, Ida almost missed it when Lily started singing. A chill swept over the room, the light of the fire grew dim, but there was a softness to it. Ida thought it was like she hadn’t noticed the chill until someone wrapped a warm blanket around her. She almost moved in closer, so she could actually make out the woods, but something held her back.

Then Ida noticed that for the first time since the fever took him, Johanne was breathing steadily. His pain was gone; he was at peace. Ida looked up in wonder at Lily, but before she could speak, a translucent figure entered the room. Ida’s eyes went wide. “Eric?”

Her husband gave her a sad smile, then knelt beside Lily and Johanne. Johanne’s breath slowed, then stopped, and then the boy stepped out of his body into his father’s waiting arms.

As Eric stood up, Ida followed, and tried to follow them out the door. Eric raised a hand and shook his head. He said something, and though Ida couldn’t hear him, she knew what he said. “Not yet, my love. Not yet.”

With even more tears flowing down her face, she whispered, “I love you.”

“And I you.” Eric flashed her another sad smile, then turned to leave, one hand holding Johanne’s. The boy waved goodbye to his mother, and the two strode out into the dark.

Ida took another look at Lily. She’d heard the rumors, of course; Lily was a strange girl, even disregarding her unnaturally pale skin. This pretty definitively proved the rumors true. To her surprise, though, Ida found she didn’t care.

Lily noticed when the boy stopped breathing. She continued her lullaby for just a bit longer, before her sobs grew too powerful to contain. She curled in on herself, but only a few moments after she stopped, she felt a hand on her arm.

When Lily opened her eyes, she found Johanne’s mother, Ida, smiling up at her, tears streaked down her face. “Thank you, little one,” Ida said. “Thank you for everything.”

More than a little confused, Lily passed the boy’s corpse to his mother. “I… I’m sorry I couldn’t save him.”

For a long time, the silence lay heavy between them. Then, with a softer, sadder smile, Ida said, “I’m not so sure you didn’t, at the end there. Now go along home; you need rest.”

She stood up, taking Johanne out to bury him. At the threshold, she turned to look at Lily. “And tell Astrid that if the two of you need anything, especially with certain secrets, you both are always welcome here.”

Lily didn’t quite know what to make of that, but she nodded. Presumably Mama would know what she was talking about.

3 May 2024 part 1

This was my first attempt at concluding this short story for Perish Song and Lily. I wasn’t particularly happy with it; it put too much emphasis on the sorrow and grief of the situation, with very little on either Lily or the comfort Ida and Johanne found. And I think there were connections that needed to be more explicit.

Ida watched as Lily wept over her boy, and nearly started to weep herself. She’d known it was a hopeless fight, and watching the young girl push herself to her limits to try and give Johanne even a slightly better chance broke Ida’s heart.

So when Lily started to sing, Ida was surprised. She couldn’t make out the words, but she watched as Johanne relaxed for the first time since the fever took hold of him. The air stilled, as if the world paused to listen to Lily’s song. Goosebumps covered Ida’s arms, though whether from the strangeness or the sudden chill, she couldn’t say.

Whatever reservations Ida had, though, stopped completely when the spectral form of her husband strode past her into the room. He nodded at her and smiled, then knelt beside Johanne. The boy’s body stilled, and then his spirit sat up, and looked around. Ida would never forget the expression of sheer joy Johanne’s face when he saw his father there.

Ida’s husband helped Johanne to his feet, and the two bowed to Ida before they turned to leave through the back door.

“Wait!” she called out, and rushed after them. As soon as she stepped outside, however, she was greeted by a wall of fog encircling her home. 

Her husband turned back, and held out a hand to stop her. He said something, though Ida couldn’t hear it, and gave her a sad smile. Then he took Johanne’s hand, and the two left, walking into the fog out of sight.

Ida nearly followed them anyway; what was the point of living when her whole family was gone? But she shook her head and turned back into the house. A few moments later, Lily’s song finished, and warmth flooded back into the area.

2 May 2024

The summer before she turned 18, however, a plague swept through the land. Many people claimed it was a graveborn curse, and fear ran rampant. By the time their little village was hit, people were already reaching their breaking point.

“Do you think it’s actually a graveborn curse?” Lily asked.

For a moment, Astrid didn’t respond. “No. It spreads too slowly for one of theirs, and leaves too many alive. It’s spreading farther, too.”

When the village did get hit, it was hit hard. Lily was one of a small group unaffected, and she worked herself past exhaustion trying to help and save as many people as she could. Every once in a while, she’d start to worry about catching the disease herself, but she always pushed the thought out of her head. And somehow, Lily never did get sick.

On one particularly hard day, she was tending to a young boy. Johanne. His father had lost to the disease just the day before, and Johanne himself was fading fast. 

Lily did everything she could think of. She banked the fire and wiped his sweat. Nothing worked. When she tried to feed him medicine, he coughed it back up. All he could do was lie there and groan in pain.

Something broke inside Lily, and she clung to the boy and wept. Unbidden, the words to an old lullaby came to her lips, and she started to sing, eyes closed.

30 April 2024

This is when I figured out who I wanted my Perish Song protagonist to be. This was inspired in large part by the AFK Arena series’ concept of graveborn, along with the trope of the little girl with the doll you see right before her town gets destroyed, leaving the heroes to find only a doll in the wreckage. That girl is my main character. Though I do worry that this trope loses power as far removed from the story as it is.

Lily didn’t remember much from before her mama, Astrid, adopted her. She had only been six or seven at the time, after all. She knew it had been during the [Gravewrought] wars; Astrid had saved Lily’s village from the undead, only to come back a few days later to find it had been destroyed. Lily didn’t remember how she survived, or even what had happened. The only vague memory she had of that time was when she had offered the cool, scary lady–Astrid–her homemade doll. The dolly Lily still had tucked away under her pillow.

She knew after Astrid had found her, she retired to a small town to try and raise her. Lily was pretty sure Astrid had been someone important before her retirement, because a lot of men and women came through just to see her. Lily didn’t mind; it meant she basically had a bunch of aunts and uncles out there.

They lived a simple life; Astrid worked as a woodcutter, and if she wasn’t helping with that, Lily helped out at the bakery with her best friend. On some level, Lily was aware the other townsfolk thought her strange, but she was cheerful and friendly enough that only the bitterest of them gave her any grief. Though Lily did get tired of hearing she was too pale and need more sunlight.

Astrid had only given one rule to Lily; she wasn’t allowed to sing. At least, not anywhere there was the slightest chance someone could overhear her.

“I’m serious, Lily; if you ever sing in front of people, you’ll be lucky if they stop at hanging you. It’s far more likely they’ll burn you at the stake or worse. Do you understand me?”

Lily, who’d been eight at the time, nodded. Even now, roughly nine years later, she remembered that day clearly. She’d started singing to herself while they were out cutting wood, when Mama got really scared and put her head over Lily’s mouth. Lily also couldn’t forget the dead squirrel she noticed nearby while they were leaving.

26 April 2024

It was only a few days later when Isaac, Phillip, and the two fairies entered the Lost Wood. Isaac immediately hated the place; it made the back of his neck itch, and all the trees felt like they pressed in on him, leaving him trapped.

Maybe half an hour in, Lena stopped to stare at something Isaac couldn’t see. “Ooh, that is clever. I suppose she really was royalty once.”

Isaac blinked. “Huh? What’s going on?”

“Oh, I’m talking about Gothel, youngling. The reason any of you get lost here is Gothel has taken some of the reality away from these woods. Not a great deal, but you mortals aren’t designed to perceive the ‘between’ places, and so you get lost instead, forget things. It’s really quite ingenuous.”

For a moment, Isaac chewed on that. “Why couldn’t Maleficent notice that? She’s not really mortal anymore, is she?”

Lena scowled at the mention of Venwald’s queen, but Frieda chuckled darkly. “Had it been anyone else she faced, the Fairy Killer would have noticed. How long did she wander these woods, searching for something she can never find, I wonder?”

That only left Isaac more confused, but neither Lena nor Frieda would say anything more on the subject. Not that they paid much attention to Isaac and Phillip in general.

Several hours of silence later, and the group stumbled on a clearing with a tall tower, looking far better kept than something this isolated should be.

“Well, here we are,” Frieda announced. “And what luck! It seems poor Gothel isn’t even here at present. You truly have fortune on your side, princeling.”

“Don’t forget what you owe us, boy,” Lena added. “We’ll even go distract our dear friend for a bit. WOuldn’t want you to die before your debts are paid. Ta-ta!”

Isaac’s eyes widened. “Wait!”

But they didn’t. One moment they were there, the next, they were gone.

Isaac and Phillip looked on in disbelief, then turned back to the tower. “Think she’s actually in there?”

“Has to be. They wouldn’t have risked losing the deal otherwise.”

The two boys approached, trying to find a door or something. But even after circling the thing twice, the only entrance they could find was a single window thirty or so feet up.

25 April 2024

More D&D lore bits, about an event occurring roughly 60 years before present day in-game. And yes, this is 100% based on the Butterfly Knight story I was writing. The city names are hidden, because I found most of them by looking up really place names, and didn’t want to create any unfortunate implications on here. And there is one country I named after a country in Brandon Sanderson’s books, so that is also censored. For a private game, those things don’t matter, but out in public it does a bit more.

The Shattered Rose War

The Shattered Rose War shocked most of the world. There were a great many factors on multiple layers that led up to it, with fiends infiltrating society and goading people closer and closer to bloodshed. A number of pride devils infiltrated the lower ranks of the Eternal Rose, flattering those above them into puffed up self-importance, while a number of demons of wrath and envy incited unrest among the lower class. This created friction in all the human lands.

No one is quite certain what spark first lit the blaze. Some claim a madman in A——-, Marrue, attacked a young noblewoman and scarred her face. Others say the temple to the Rose in A———, Piege, closed their doors to all but the wealthiest of patrons, cutting the common folk off from their worship.

Whatever the case, the flames of war spread quickly, with riots ranging from M———— to N——-, all within a fortnight. The high elves of southern Serni closed their borders, unwilling to let the conflict enter their hallowed halls; the dwarves similarly developed a “wait and see” approach.

The first to respond were the Skybreakers of N———-. They stormed Piege in force, forcibly ending the conflict. Maintaining the peace there took all their manpower, however, and they were unable to extend their reach to D——— or beyond.

Oileanda also calmed down quickly, thanks in large part to the efforts of Saint Aislin, the Butterfly Knight. The first recorded devotee of both the Rose and the Shadowed, she rallied the people to her cause, and showed that the war opposed the will of both goddesses. Once S——- and its surroundings found peace, Saint Aislin recruited a handful of like-minded warriors and set sail for T———. She campaigned throughout the land, recruiting the wood elves of northern Serni along the way, and brought peace to both Marrue and D———, along with founding a new knightly order.

The Order of the Butterfly is still viewed with suspicion in Piege, however. The Skybreakers view them as little more than well-intentioned vigilantes, and the people of Piege are still simmering with unresolved discontent, with new, added distaste for foreign powers. Both D——— and Solstrana are keeping a wary eye on the nation, so that whenever it erupts, the chaos stays contained within its borders.