Lay Of The Land

Two Weeks Later:

The figure shook the rain from their cloak, as the door slammed behind them. It didn’t do much for the place – the roof had unpatched holes, and the walls themselves had a few gouges where rain and wind came in, but if you stayed away from them, it could be all right. The fire sputtered, and the entire place was dimly lit.

Continue reading →

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To The West.

Two Months Later:

It was with a heavy heart that Meliantha left Shadowdale. The people there had been welcoming, for the most part, and even those who had some troubles with her appearance treated her with respect to her face. She’d made friends with many of the people there, spending time both in combat training and the simple arts of farming. She’d built a wall alongside Storm and members of the Knights of Myth Drannor, who treated her as a fellow adventurer, not as some kind of freak.

But the time had come to leave Shadowdale, as Storm had told her. Continue reading →

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Into the Darkness

Two Months Later:

It was young Kathlo who brought the first word. One of a half-dozen boys who’d skipped off the farm and headed into the woods, daring each other to go further in, he was the only one to make it back out that day. He was exhausted and needed Rathan’s help to be able to give his message:

“Drow. In the woods. Got the others.” Continue reading →

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Those Who Harp.

After fording the river (which was more like swimming, as her map wasn’t that old, so the map lied about the depth) and spending two days drying her clothing out, Meliantha was walking just off the Moonsea Ride, so that she didn’t get in the way of riders or wagons. She’d passed a few, when a quartet of Purple Dragons, the military of Cormyr, came on horseback down the road. Spotting her, they pulled up, surrounding her. Continue reading →

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Shadow to Shadow.

Warning
Warning: Some content in this story may not be suitable for all readers due to implied unpleasantness.
Warning

 

After parting from the caravan, Meliantha made her way north through the trees of the Hullack. The sun shone through the green leaves overhead, and the boles of the trees were wide. The paths through the trees were wide, but filled with the lumps of roots, and the forest itself had its dangers. She avoided some parties larger than she felt comfortable dealing with, slew one party of orcs, a party of goblins and a pair of bugbears before encountering a group of human bandits. Continue reading →

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Hunting Bandits

Archenfel was three days behind her, three days of cool damp forest and sleeping wet against trees. Not for the first time, Meliantha swore that, should her big hoard come, that she’d have enough things built to sleep in comfort no matter where in the wilderness she was.

As she tromped through the deep, wet wood, she considered where she was going. North were orcs – there was always a bounty for them, but rarely did they travel in small enough numbers to make it worth the trouble – twenty on one was not a good idea, and maybe some shaman mixed in to make it much worse. South was goblins, stupid and crazy, and not worth the time. East were bandits – usually a good option, and West was the King’s lands, and the royal guard tended to look at those like her askance, not being fond of free blades outside of chartered adventuring companies.

East it was, then. Continue reading →

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Justice in Archenfel

Meliantha frowned at the poster. The spelling mildly irritated her – being raised in a temple gave one a considerable education – but as the small handful of coins in her pouch reminded her, it was a job or sleeping under a tree again.

As the weather smelled of rain, that was not something she felt like doing.

She pushed the door open, leaving the parchment behind. There might be others looking for work, after all. Continue reading →

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The Testing

Ches 19, 1372

 

“Good morning, daughter,” Davlin called out as he moved the curtain aside. “Happy birthday.”

Meliantha looked up from where she sat in her small room, sword across her legs, and one hand holding a polishing cloth, dressed in simple clothes. She nodded. “Good morning, father. Thank you.” Continue reading →

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Hatred, Anger and Strife

Kythorn 12, 1368

“Keep your guard up, lad!” The salle master shouted at the young man, who’d let the point of his waster drop, just in time for his opponent to knock it out of his hands with her own wooden sword, then poke him in the left side of the chest.

“And that’s why. Someday, some horror might stab you through the heart.” Brother Norvin, the armsmaster, said with a sanctimonious air. “This time, it was just a practice sword. You,” he said to Meliantha, “pick up his waster and make sure it’s not damaged from your action.” Continue reading →

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Meetings and Mentors

Eleisis 5, 1358:

The small dark figure clambered over the wall in the dark, then let herself down, small fingers fitting deftly into the space between stones. She knew it would bother Father, but she couldn’t put up with the others anymore.

Between Brother Norvin’s preaching about her sins being worn on her skin, and Felger’s recent attempt at “helping”, she’d had enough. She’d left Father a note, gathered a few things, and climbed the wall. Continue reading →

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