Whirlwind

by Supa Supa Bad Truly Mad Moves

The lives of two young half-elven women are shaken out of their daily routine when they are called upon to become the adventuring team Whirlwind. Novelization of a campaign in a homebrew setting.

6. No Stone Unturned

DM's Note: If this is gonna be a cartoon, this is going to be an incredibly ambitious chapter, these three episodes here. Ideally, it would have started very slow, not very many sets and characters to speak of, just adding them little by little. That's a good practical way to run any campaign, let alone a campaign you want to fully animate someday. But, somebody wanted to use the third chapter to explore every square inch of the city, so… that's what we've gotta do. But I wouldn't have it any other way. I love all this exploring. Gonna need to be a lot of asset creation, but it's gonna be so worth it to tell this story. I was really worried, but for the time being, I'm really loving the exploring that's going on.

~0~0~0~

WHIRLWIND

Chapter 3: Women About Town
Episode 6: No Stone Unturned

"Adventure is a legacy that reaches through history. I fear the day when there's no world left to chart and map."
Thorfinn Halbrek, dwarf warrior, 250 years before the fall

~0~0~0~

Noon was fast approaching as they brought their horses to the very center of the city, a grassy park full of rolling hills. At the park's center was a massive circus tent, and to the north and south were bustling centers of shopping and culture.

Anwen took a deep breath and looked around. "So, yeah. Pelora, welcome to the mercantile district… I don't come here often. I mean, it's a nice place, to just unwind, relax, and all that, but… it's the places around that… I don't… come here often."

"It's beautiful," said Pelora, scanning the hills and ponds. "I suppose this must be the center of Sheradon then? It looks very lively."

"Indeed it is," said Anwen with a nod, before her stomach growled loudly. "Uhh, did you hear something?"

"Yes, I did," said Pelora. "You must be hungry. I believe I might be as well… how about we search for a place to eat? Surely it has to be something affordable, now when we got money."

Anwen hesitated. "Uh, Pelly, let's save the money for another day. There's plenty of ponds here and it's free to fish. Let's try that!"

"Anwen, this is a good opportunity. We might not have it again. We can head for that dwarven restaurant? Please?" She served Anwen with an exaggerated, wide-eyed pout.

"Sorry, Pelora, but no," Anwen said plainly, smirking. "I think we should be a little more frugal. Maybe another day… just not now."

~0~0~0~

Ten minutes later, they each had a fishing line in a pond. Soon, the tip of Pelora's line began to dip and wriggle. "La!" she exclaimed gleefully.

She reeled in, and caught a glimpse of a minnow just below the surface before it escaped her hook and it returned to the water.

"Well, crap," said Anwen, deflated.

"No…" Pelora whined. She glared accusatorily at the fishing rod. "Is this even good quality? It wouldn't surprise me if it weren't."

"Hey, hey, hey," Anwen said rapidly. "Pelly, calm down, it's one mishap. Let's just try again. No harm no foul." Her stomach rumbled again.

Much later, Anwen hooked a fish, but swiftly lost it. "Fuck…" she muttered.

"Well…" said Pelora, staring after it. "No food, I suppose."

Anwen sighed and put a hand on her stomach. "Well, none here. But maybe we can get something at the restaurant."

They placed the fishing rods back on the rack set up near the pond, where they had left the horses, and proceeded to the south of the park.

~0~0~0~

To the south was a small square devoted to dwarves, including a temple, several blacksmiths, and their destination, a squat cauldron-shaped building marked as a dwarven restaurant. Several dwarves loitered around the area; long-haired folk, the men bearded, more than a foot shorter than an average human but wider and heavier.

Pelora smiled at the sight of them and turned to Anwen. "I met dwarves a few times. While they differs from elves and humans, I find their company enjoyable and fun. I loved to hear their songs, tales, and laughter."

"Interesting," said Anwen. "I've seen some, never really talked to them."

"Oh, you'll love them," Pelora assured her. "I met some. We once stayed in a temple of Moradin, the god of creation, and I met with dwarves. They showed me so much of their culture. Songs, dances, stories… they're a bit loud, but very high-spirited."

"Sounds like a wild bunch," said Anwen, bending her head down to enter the restaurant.

They took seats. The tables and chairs were designed for dwarves, so it was a tight fit. The place was cozy and warm, heated by the iron forge used for cooking. A gray-haired dwarf woman approached them. "Welcome, ladies," she said in a rich brogue. "What'll ye have?"

"Oh, I'll have the Dwergenberger along with mini corn dogs, thank you," Pelora said, smiling happily.

Anwen scanned the menu up on the far wall, holding her breath and finally letting it out. "Uh, I'll have the Dwergenberger as well, but with onion rings," she said, blushing somewhat.

"Comin' right up, lassies," said the waitress. She walked to the back room to report to the cook, a jovial-looking dwarf man with a shaggy black beard, who set to work cooking.

Pelora sighed wistfully. "You know," she said, "a part of me hopes to see the dwarves I met during my stay at the temple in Runestone again. But that would be silly, right? It's not like they're the only dwarves in the world."

"Of course not," said Anwen, "but I guess in some ways when you're mostly stuck inside a building in every place you go to, it does seem like it's a smaller world. I mean, I don't really think much of dwarf culture or religions, but… it's more of the place that I'm at and what's currently happening, that I don't really think about it."

"Mm-hmm," Pelora said thoughtfully. "Either way, I do enjoy the company of dwarves. The ones I met were very happy, especially when I can speak Dwarven."

"Dwarven, eh? I've learned something new about you all day," said Anwen, giving a chuckle and a relaxed smile. "So, you're the dwarf enthusiast, how is their food? Granted it'll still be good to me regardless…"

The door to the restaurant opened, and two figures noisily blustered their way in.

"Now, this isn't something we can keep doing every tenday," Atasha was saying. "We don't have the money to keep dyeing your skin blue."

"Yeah, I know," Rhea replied despondently.

Atasha did a double-take at the sight of Anwen, but played it off and took a seat, leaning back in a chair at a table uncomfortably, and unnecessarily, close to their own. "Howdy, neighbor."

"It's them!" Pelora whispered. "Such odd coincidence…"

"Just ignore them, Pelly," said Anwen, scooting away in annoyance. "They're not worth acknowledging. Plus, I don't want to be associated with someone who already made a mess the moment she sat down."

"Wowwwww, such nice manners," said Atasha, as Rhea flicked her tongue, expressionless. "What makes you so much better than me, princess?" As the waitress approached, Atasha interrupted her before she could speak: "Yeah, get me a double Dwergenberger, extra sauce; two hot dogs, onion rings, fried mushrooms, and fish nuggets. And whatever the girl wants."

The waitress turned expectantly to Rhea, who clutched her money pouch close to her chest. "Erm… jutht a corn dog ith fine," she muttered, averting her eyes.

"Don't talk to them, don't talk to them," Anwen chanted softly to Pelora, her eyes closed.

"Oh!" Atasha raged, standing up. "Oh, do you hear that?" She pounded a fist on the table in front of Anwen. "Now really. Really, like… really. What sets you above my level, huh? The fact that you don't accept payment? Because you're somehow okay with living in the ruins of a demolished apartment building? That you run into fights you can't win? I hear a guy killed you the other night. We don't all have cleric buddies that can bring us back. Where do you get the right to be so high and mighty, neighbor?"

"And where were you when people were attacked by those monsters?" Pelora said coldly. "Sheltered in your little hidey-hole, two cowards. Anwen do something of worth, something you will never be capable to understand." She stood up and pointed at Atasha with her staff. "Leaving innocent people to die by monsters while you hide like two roaches? What a disgrace."

"Pelora, sit down," Anwen whispered, going red and biting her lip.

"We're not doing anything wrong," Pelora spat. "They come in here, makes a mess with this hideous blue stains, is rude to the waitress and has the nerve to pick a fight on others? I befriended dwarves in Runestone. They taught me a great deal about honor!"

Atasha smirked. "Honor. Well, honor and a gold piece, as they say, will get you a Dwergenberger. But you want honor? Let's go. You ignore us, you yell at us—how about a duel, darlings?"

"Don't call me darling, wench," Pelora snarled. "Good, I accept your duel!"

"Oy!" the cook called out. "Take it outside, ladies, or you're nay gettin' your meal."

Anwen rubbed her temples in exasperation, but stood up to leave. "Well, it probably won't be much of a duel."

"SHUT UP!" Atasha screamed at her back.

"I am not afraid," Pelora told Anwen. "I had enough of those, and time to show them their place."

The three of them went outside, Pelora and Anwen facing Atasha in the streets outside the restaurant.

"Let's do this," said Atasha. "A little two-on-two. Me against the cleric… oh, how I would have liked to cross swords with Ma'Sijor, but she's not the one who accepted the challenge… with Rhea and Ma'Sijor as our seconds. R… Rhea?" She realized Rhea was not beside her, and looked inside the restaurant. "Rhea, get your tail out here and be my second!"

"I ain't got no part of thith," Rhea sneered from within.

"You're gonna be a part of this!" Atasha roared. A few seconds later, Rhea emerged, grumbling.

"Look, will you just stop," said Anwen. "She's had nothing to do with your fit, she doesn't have to fight."

Atasha scowled. "I didn't have a fit," she hissed, "until you started ignoring me. I've had it with your disrespect, Ma'Sijor. We're neighbors and slum sisters. We want the same things And if you can't respect that, we're going to come to blows."

Anwen sighed. "If that's what you wish, Atasha."

"Really, you were so quick to leave the people to die in the slums district," Pelora scoffed, her arms crossed and with a harsh glare on her face. "That is disrespect enough."

Atasha snapped her fingers. "You know the rules. Seconds, hash this out."

Rhea sighed and walked a short distance away, followed closely by Anwen. "Okay, listen," Anwen said once they were face to face, "you and I don't want this duel to happen. You have nothing to do with this and I didn't even want this to happen, so let's just lessen both of our headaches and say that whoever wins pays for the other's lunch."

Rhea clutched at her moneybag again reflexively. "That… that'th actually pretty reathonable," she muttered in surprise. "Didn't expect that from you. Okay. You're on." After a pause, she added, "My dye ith dried, by the way. I've been with Random all morning getting dyed. I'm not leaving thtains anywhere."

"Random?"

Rhea jabbed her thumb toward a business just on the outskirts of the dwarven area, Random's Tattoo Parlor.

"Believe it or not, while I don't particularly like you, I can be fair to know who's minding their own business," Anwen said dryly. "Oh… sorry about the dye thing then."

Rhea flicked her tongue again, before they returned to Pelora and Atasha. Atasha was sourly tapping her foot, and Rhea actively nudged Pelora as she passed, baring her fangs. "Tell 'em," she said to Anwen.

Anwen rolled her eyes. "All righty, we're gonna just do a simple low stages wager, whoever wins has to pay for the other's meal." She twirled her finger in the air.

"What?! Damn it, Rhea," Atasha grumbled. "Gah, FINE." She drew her scimitar. "You ready, priestess?"

"Oh, I'm always ready," Pelora said confidently. "Are you?"

Anwen instantly rushed Atasha, swinging wide with her axe and bopping her in the head with the pommel of her sword. Atasha responded with a growl, and by spinning on her heel, teleported some twenty feet away. She pointed her sword, and lightning shot out of the blade, zapping Anwen. Pelora walked to Anwen's side and shot at Atasha with a beam of light, missing widely.

Anwen stumbled a bit, queasy, but turned her attention to Rhea, slashing at her with her scimitar. Atasha raised her sword, and a massive tentacle made of fire appeared and swiped first at Pelora, then at Anwen, wrapping around her and pulling her into Atasha's reach.

Pelora followed, flanking Atasha and taking a swing at her, her staff glowing white, hitting her in the back.

Rhea spread her hands, and two darts made of dark magic appeared out of nowhere and sailed toward the pair of them; both missed and dissipated into nothing.

Sweating, Anwen swung her axe, leaving a huge bloody gash across Atasha's forearm, blood splashing across her face. Atasha growled and screamed, slashing with her scimitar, which Anwen parried just in time with her own.

Rhea pressed her fingers to her temples, and an invisible force sliced through Anwen's head, causing a trickle of blood to drip from her nose and one eye.

Anwen staggered and whispered, "Almost." She hacked with her axe at Atasha's hide armor, panting heavily.

Atasha bared her teeth and huffed a few times. "Bitch," she spat, stabbing at Anwen's stomach.

Pelora wagged her fingers, washing Anwen in magical healing energy, before taking a step back and twirling her staff. "Hah!" she shouted, aiming a beam of light at Atasha's back.

It hit its mark, splitting open the back of Atasha's tunic and leaving a long diagonal burn across her back. Gurgling in pain, she collapsed flat on her face, unconscious.

"One down, one to go," said Pelora, straightening up.

"You got that right, Pelly," said Anwen with a smirk, both of them turning to face Rhea.

"Huh?" Rhea said in alarm. She looked down at Atasha, who was breathing raggedly, then between the two of them. "Ah, to hell with it," she said, magic sparkles dancing at her fingertips. "I can win that free lunch. Let'th do thith." She pointed a condemning finger at Anwen.

A cloud of purple smoke enveloped Anwen's head for a brief moment; veins in her head bulged, thick and purple, and some of the skin on her face turned green.

Her head spinning, Anwen staggered and narrowed her eyes at Rhea. She snapped her fingers, and Rhea was enveloped in red flame.

"YAAAH!" Rhea shrieked. A moment later, the fire disappeared, and she looked mildly surprised. "Didn't know you could do that…"

Anwen's jaw went slack, and she shook her head to clear it.

Pelora ran up to Rhea and swung her staff. Rhea caught the staff in her hands and said, "I yield."

Pelora's eyes widened.

"That fire, that friggin' hurt," Rhea admitted. "I'm done. We're done. How about lunch?"

The small crowd of humans and dwarves that had assembled began to disperse. The waitress poked her head out of the restaurant. "Your meals are gettin' cold, lasses."

"Fine by me," Anwen panted exhaustedly. "Let's just get back to our food and let Atasha pay for it all."

Pelora straightened up and offered a hand to Rhea. "You put a good fight, I respect that," she said. "We'll just let her pay. She lost, after all."

"Uh-huh," Rhea said dismissively, rolling Atasha over onto her back with her foot. "You gonna, like… heal her, revive her, whatev?"

"Maybe she could become nicer if I heal her," Pelora suggested, turning to Anwen.

"Pfft, AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" Anwen guffawed. "Her nicer, hahahaha, oh man. Pelora, dear, how 'bout we do so after lunch." She wiped a tear from her eye. "Healing her now would just make her in denial and probably a little violent." She held her thumb and forefinger an inch apart.

Pelora shrugged. "If you say so, my friend."

Rhea looked down at Atasha. "Meh, fine by me," she said softly. She approached the waitress. "What do they owe you?"

"Er, two crowns."

"Friggin' two crowns," Rhea grumbled, fishing in her purse for them. "A'ight, here ya go."

The three of them returned to the interior of the restaurant and found their meals waiting on the tables, each one served with a tankard of dwarven ale. Anwen watched as Rhea began digging into some of the items Atasha had ordered, and shot her a thumbs-up of approval before gorging herself on her Dwergenberger.

Pelora ate hers as well, observing the other restaurant patrons. Two dwarves were chatting to each other in their own language, not bothering to speak in an undertone.

"You're crazy," one was saying. "The one with the axe was much more attractive than the high elf."

"Did you see the melons on the high elf, though?" the other challenged.

"I did," said the first. "They're ridiculous. Bigger isn't always better. Doesn't matter, they're both too skinny. The one in the priestly vestments has some curve to her like a proper mortal woman."

Pelora smiled and leaned toward Anwen. "I believe we got a couple of fans in here," she whispered.

Rhea turned to the dwarves, smirking. "I have a body too, you know," she said in fluent Dwarven. "Go on, judge it."

Pelora turned to face Rhea. "You're awfully blunt," she said with a sigh.

Anwen raised an eyebrow. "Uhh… can somebody please translate?"

Pelora turned back to her. "They were talking about us. Well, about me, you, and Atasha. They weren't a big fan of Atasha, but they liked us. But Rhea seemed to take offense at being left out and remarked that she has also a body."

The two dwarves were now blushing. "Congratulations on an honorable duel," one of them said in Common.

Pelora smiled at them. "Thank you very much," she said in Dwarven.

"Yeah, sure, duel, that's what you were talking about," Anwen grumbled, rolling her eyes.

Atasha staggered back into the building, looking as exhausted as if a breeze might knock her down. "What, nobody even thought to pick me up?" she slurred. "Put me somewhere?" She set down at the table with Rhea and pulled her own plate toward herself. "Who ate all my sides?!"

Rhea giggled shrilly. Pelora looked away.

Anwen smirked, licking the grease off her fingers and winking. "Oh, hey, Atasha. I was wondering when you were going to wake up. Don't forget you're paying for this, hon." She gestured to Rhea's plate. "And hers too."

Atasha slowly began to turn around. "I got it," Rhea said hastily. "I already got it…"

Atasha ignored her, leaning down and putting her elbows on the table, leaning in close, her huge pupil-less eyes inches away from Anwen's. "You make me sick, Ma'Sijor," she growled. "Sick. I should be the hero of the slums, not you. But no matter how many things you do that I take credit for, everybody in town loves you. Sick." She attempted to overturn the table, but found it bolted to the ground, so she simply grunted and sat down to eat what remained of her meal.

"You know," said Anwen, "taking credit for something doesn't mean a damn thing if the people remember who actually protected them. It's honestly kind of pathetic, but hey, what do I know?"

Atasha ignored her. Rhea glanced up at them, but said nothing.

~0~0~0~

Anwen and Pelora rode north, traveling around the circus tent. In the tent's rear, the circus's wagons were clustered together, and many performers and workers were lounging around.

A dwarf woman with a massive hammer slung over her shoulders sat on one of the wagons, and alongside her, speaking quickly and seriously, was Semaj. She listened to him with rapt attention.

"Damn," Anwen muttered, glancing at Pelora.

"Semaj," Pelora mumbled. "This explains why his house was empty, but I wonder why he's here."

"I don't know," said Anwen, breathing deeply, "but I'm done running. If he's got something planned then we need to follow him." She dismounted and began creeping closer, beckoning Pelora to follow her lead.

Pelora did the same, but her jangling chainmail armor quickly attracted Semaj's attention.

"Ladies!" he exclaimed in delight. "Well-timed. This is Artin Arfire. Artin, these are the two I was telling you about."

"Hi there!" said the dwarf woman. "I do believe your agent here is tryin' to court me."

Anwen's hands balled into fists, then she released them. "Oh, hey there," she said casually.

"Court you?" Pelora said anxiously.

"As a team member," Semaj said hastily. "Courting her as a team member. I thought Artin here could maybe do some mercenary work with us, build up the Whirlwind team."

"That's where I'm not sure about this, Mister Semaj," said Artin. "I'm no mercenary. I'm a showgirl."

"A showgirl who smashes rocks with her giant hammer," Semaj observed dryly.

Artin shrugged. "That's what showgirls do where I come from."

"Sounds like you found another badass for the team," Anwen said flatly, crossing her arms. "Hopefully you won't send this one to her death."

Pelora slumped. "So, you are a showgirl then," she said delicately. "That's… a good profession. Have you done it for a long time?"

"Oh, aye," said Artin. "Been with the circus for many years now. It's done me well, but Mister Agent here has got me interested in… in… what was that about death?"

"Er… no," Semaj said nervously. "That was just a one-time thing. For you."

"Darkness is brewing out in the world," said Pelora. "Innocents are endangered and in mortal peril. I made a choice to do something of worth and try to help."

"M-mortal peril?" Artin squeaked.

"There's no mortal peril," Semaj said exasperatedly. "Not for us, that is. Not for Whirlwind. Especially not if we hire you, Miss Arfire. I have confidence that your strength and sturdiness is the missing piece we need to make sure we can get this done safely. But yes, she is correct: things are rising. We'll be saving a lot of innocent lives."

"Yes, we will," said Anwen, glaring at Semaj.

"We," Artin repeated. "That raises the question, what's your role in the party then, Mister Semaj?"

"Me? I'm just your agent," he said quickly. "I found you. I find out where you're needed and I send you there. Isn't that right, ladies?"

"Pretty much," said Anwen.

Semaj looked relieved. "Miss Arfire, I'd like to offer you a retainer."

"I don't see the need, sir," she said. "My teeth are perfect."

"Er… right," said Semaj. "No, what I mean is up-front payment for your services. The decision of whether to join us can wait for another time, but for now, up front… sixty crowns." He gave her a bag of gold.

"Now you're talking my language," said Artin, peering inside.

"Well, at least I get to see firsthand how you probably dealt with the bone face guy," Anwen said snidely. "Though hopefully this one won't murder me."

"Bone Mask Guy," Semaj said reflexively, before wincing. "No, no. That was a one-time thing." He turned to Artin sheepishly. "She refers to a deal I worked out with a local criminal known only as Bone Mask Guy. I had him pose as an assailant so as to demonstrate the kind of darkness festering around here. He killed her, I brought her back, no harm done."

"Sounds legit," said Artin.

"THANK YOU!"

Pelora turned away. "This was a mistake…" she muttered.

"What?" said Anwen, confused. "I thought you wanted this."

Pelora stepped forward to Semaj. "I feel… used, Semaj. You're telling me that your only job is to gather a ragtag team to fight the darkness, risking our lives for the greater good while you, on the other hand, won't do anything because your job is already done. So tell me… any other nasty surprise I should be aware of?"

"No nasty surprise," he said, genuinely surprised. "I don't fight. But I want to. That's why I need help. And I figure we can use all the help we can get." After a pause, he added, "To that end…"

He held up another two sacks of coins, smaller than the one he had given Artin. "How do you feel about twenty crowns each? Sorry, that's all I've got on me at the moment. But you definitely earned it. We're all team members here."

"I'm… not much for materialistics," Pelora said slowly, "but I suppose it's needed if we're going to travel. So, you don't fight. I hardly see that as a weakness. Perhaps you can do something else."

"I am doing something else," Semaj replied, equally slowly. "I'm the agent. I take the people who can fight and I point them where to go. Was that not clear that that's what we're doing?"

"No, you were clear, it's just that you seem to love messing with people," Anwen said pointedly. "You can't fight so you go for others who are vulnerable enough to accept whatever bull you throw."

Pelora stared at him. "I understand." She turned away.

"Pelly…" said Anwen, putting a hand on Pelora's shoulder. "Look, even with what he's saying, you aren't going to do any of this alone. Understand? So quit moping. And you are strong, you're not stuck in a building, you're doing things! Don't think about him, who cares what he thinks? Think about what you'll be doing for others. What you'll do for yourself."

Semaj's lip thinned, and he turned to Artin. "Excuse us for a moment."

He stood up from his seated position on Artin's wagon and walked up to the two of them, ushering them aside. "Do you mind?" he hissed. "I'm trying to hire somebody who can protect you properly so maybe, just maybe, you don't die next time there's evil to be fought, and you're not presenting her with a very good team dynamic."

Pelora glared. "Maybe you should present some better character then. You made me leave me temple, good for you! Now you move down the list who else can be a sacrificial lamb for 'greater good'. Best lucks for you, Semaj."

"Pelora!" Anwen exclaimed, raising her voice. "This isn't just about you!" She grabbed Pelora by the wrist. "There are others in danger out there. What are you going to accomplish by staying in the temple? Semaj is sketchy as all hell and he deserves all of the mistrust, but being pissy with him should not come at the expense of leaving other people to hang. Whether we like it or not, we need to stick together! No one should be sacrificed, and we are going to do our damnedest not to let anyone die. Got it?"

Pelora glared now at Anwen. "This is a suicide mission and you know it. And you know what? I'm still going to do it. I do something worth with my life."

Semaj huffed, staring at the ground, his fists balled up at his sides. "Why… are you being… impossible?" he said in a broken, exhausted voice. "There have been no sacrifices. No suicides. Just you agreeing with me on the fact that we need to take action, but somehow finding a reason to be pissed off at me. So how about we just work together like the clockwork we were obviously meant to be?"

"I'm not impossible," Pelora said pitifully. "I'm not impossible at all." She walked away, sitting down on a boulder just outside the circus grounds, and rested her elbows on her lap, burying her face in her hands. "Well, this went peachy."

Semaj watched her go, then wordlessly offered the two bags of coins to Anwen.

"I'll go talk to Artin about joining the team," said Anwen. "You… why don't you get tickets for the show." She bit her lip. "I caused this, I'll fix it."

"The show?" he said blankly. He took a moment to process it, then smiled and let out a huge sigh of relief. "Oh, for certain. I'll get us the finest seats. And don't you worry about Artin, I can take care of her. You make sure your friend is okay." He pointed after Pelora, then pocketed one of the two bags and jangled the other at her. "So… for you? No need to stop whatever you were doing in town, the show is after sundown. I'll see you then."

Anwen closed her eyes and slowly reached out to take the bag, pocketing it. "See ya," she said.

As Pelora sulked on the boulder, a voice said, "Hey. Are you all right?" She looked up, and it was a man who could only have been from the circus, wearing a blindingly-pink tunic, with long shaggy hair of pure white despite being quite a young man.

Pelora sighed. "I hope I will be all right. I lost control over my emotions and I took it out on my friend and this guy I like, against all odds. It's so silly, I have never been jealous over anyone before."

"That guy?" he said, craning his neck to look around. "Curious guy. Came to Artin this morning with a strange offer that didn't make much sense, but she seemed to be all for it. Well, don't you worry about a thing. Looks like your friend is on her way back. I think you're gonna be okay." He produced a finely-crafted ukulele and played a little riff, smiling broadly.

Pelora smiled back at him and applauded.

As Anwen approached, the young performer danced off to block her path. "Hey there," he said. "Not gonna make your friend feel all bad, now, are ya?"

Anwen stared at him in confusion. "Uh, who are you? And no, I just want to talk to her so could you just move?"

He tipped an imaginary hat to her. "Name's Sweet, ma'am. Just making sure. Looked like she was upset and I didn't want to see her get any more so."

"Oh. Well, erm, thank you," Anwen said awkwardly, before giving a small smile. "She really does know how to win people over."

Sweet stepped aside, allowing Anwen access to Pelora. Anwen approached slowly, avoiding eye contact and giving her a hesitant wave. "Uh, hi," she said, pointing to the boulder. "Can I sit with you?"

Pelora scooted over. "Of course," she said, smiling. "I'm sorry I lost my cool over there with you and Semaj. This has been a… trying time."

Anwen sat down beside her. "I understand that, in a way, and… look, I don't like Semaj, I just really, really… don't. But the outburst…" She sighed. "I don't know. I don't want any more people involved that could be risking their lives for nothing, but I do have some idea that we need to… it's just, you know… I was angry too, at everyone, and I'm just trying to figure it all out too."

Behind them, Sweet continued to play his ukulele, accompanied by a young boy in a pristine white shirt who was rhythmically jingling bells.

"I understand," said Pelora. "I feel confused over what I felt there. I have never felt before like this, and before my parents went on their venture, my father told me not to form any ties with the guy Semaj. I suppose I didn't quite listened at him after all."

Anwen raised her eyebrow. "Confused over what? What did you feel? I mean, your dad's right to say don't talk to him at all, but…"

"Well…" Pelora began. "Let's say there's this guy you met. He brought a girl to a temple and asked to revive her. The priests does it, this guy make it seem like it's his lover or something. This stirs emotions of the novice priestess, who had never met a man before. …Turns out it's not his lover. This guy keeps appearing and in the end, this priestess feel something for this strange guy and she doesn't know what it is."

Anwen blinked at her, trying to process this. "Wait, you thought Semaj and I… oh hell to the gods no! I mean, wow, what a leap, Pelly!" She laughed. "Well… if you're feeling something that you're not sure on, it's probably just instinct. Yet we're kind of stuck with him so we kind of have to just go along until the right time."

Sweet's song changed key, and he and the boy broke into a jiggy dance.

Pelora watched the performance. "I used to look at my parents sometimes, wondering if I ever meet someone who's that important as my mother is for my father and likewise. Father used to tell me that they weren't supposed to meet, but it happened against all odds."

Sweet did a final spin and finished his melody, then dropped down to his knees before them. "Glad you could make amends and feel better, my dears," he said grandly. "As I said before, my name is Sweet."

"And I'm Nyarth," the boy chirped.

"I'm a bard of some renown," said Sweet.

"And I have BELLS!" Nyarth declared.

"Will we be seeing you at our circus performance tonight?" Sweet inquired.

"Ah, yes, I hope so," said Pelora, smiling and applauding. "It was very lovely, thank you."

"Actually, we will see the circus tonight, Sweet," said Anwen, clapping as well.

"Glad to hear it!" said Sweet. "We'll see you then. Enjoy the rest of your afternoon." He and Nyarth pranced away.

~0~0~0~

In the northern section of the mercantile district, among many necessary shops and services, was a building with a sign reading Ulric's: Gear for Adventurers and Wanderers. The sign caught Anwen's eye, and she found herself wandering toward the entrance, gesturing for Pelora to follow.

Inside, the place was mostly full of weapons, neatly organized on many racks and counters. Suits of armor hung from one wall, while behind the counter the weapons mounted were too perfect to be non-magical. On the back wall was assorted traveling gear, and behind that, a staircase leading to some sort of back room.

Behind the counter was a middle-aged man, very thin with a hooked nose; he had quite long blond hair and a thin beard and mustache. He looked up as they entered, and did a massive double-take at Anwen. "Rachael?" he whispered. Instantly, he circled around the counter, inspecting her. "No," he realized. "No… Anwen. You're Anwen. You must be. Right? Aren't you?"

Anwen stared at him. "I—yeah, I'm Anwen. It's me," she stammered. "But who are you and how do you know my mom?"

"Well, I—I'm Ulric! Your mother… oh, it's amazing. You don't look a thing like your father, but you don't look human either. You're your mother if she were an elf. Mind-blowing. But… where have you been? None of us have seen you since word got back that… that Rachael and Rolen were gone, that city officials had seized their home."

"I-I'm sorry," said Anwen. "I really can't recall who you are, er… Ulric."

"No?" he said. "No, I suppose you wouldn't. But… your mother and father and I and my friend Galumph were an adventuring group back in the day. Galumph and I retired before you were born, but the Ma'Sijors…" Ulric sighed, pained. "Sometimes I wonder if Galumph and I had accompanied them across the sea, the fire giants wouldn't have… but no, surely not, surely we'd have been no help at all. In the end, Rolen and Rachael were so much more powerful than us that it was stupid. HEY GALUMPH!" he suddenly called to the back room. "GET OUT HERE!"

Pelora winced.

A simply huge man emerged from the back room, a balding man with a handlebar mustache, wearing a burlap robe. "What is it?" he called grumpily.

"Galumph, look who it is," said Ulric, pointing. "It's Anwen!"

"Anwen?" said Galumph, wrinkling his face. "Anwen who?"

"Ma'Sijor, of course."

Galumph stared at her. "No… no… it looks like her, but it can't be. Anwen was a foot shorter and didn't have a rack like that."

"That's because she was ten, you idiot," Ulric said patiently. "That was eight years ago."

"Eight years," Galumph said softly. "Has it really been eight years since we lost them?" He dwelt on this for several seconds before, just like his friend, doing a double-take. "By the gods. Anwen!"

"Uh… hi?" Anwen said awkwardly. "Umm…"

"Anwen, where have you been?" Ulric said quietly. "We tried to find you, but… they left no sign that the Ma'Sijors had ever lived there. No sign of you."

"I got kicked out of my own home," Anwen said flatly, glancing at the scar on her arm. "I didn't have any place to go. Just been living in the slums for a while. I've been doing fine on my own. I'm sorry if I can't remember you."

Ulric put his hands on her shoulders. "I am so, so sorry," he said. "It's… very good to see you again, Anwen."

"Thanks, but please don't," Anwen said tiredly. "I'd say the same to you, but you guys are still kind of strangers to me. I know I've seen you before and I realize you guys were close to my parents… I wish I knew more of what to say." She averted her eyes.

Ulric smiled. "Ah, you don't have to say anything. No doubt you came here because you're on a quest." He went back around the counter. "Look at you! Are you a ranger?"

"Ermm… sort of," said Anwen, blushing. "More of an urban ranger, really. Haven't really gotten out of the city to really do… real ranger… I'm not like them, but I want to be."

"You're definitely like them," said Ulric. "I can tell from the way you carry yourself, you're every bit a warrior of the wilds." He gestured all around at the stock of the store. "Are you on a quest, then? What do you need?"

"Not necessarily a quest," said Anwen, gesturing in Pelora's direction. "Just more showing her the sights around here."

Pelora raised a hand and waved to them. "Hello."

"Hello, m'dear," Ulric replied, waving back. "Well, that's fine. But Anwen, if you ever need anything, anything at all… you can find us here. We owe you a great deal."

"Thank you," said Anwen, bowing and smiling. Pelora followed her lead.

Galumph cleared his throat. "I'm gonna keep on renovating in the back," he grunted. "Gotta get the stock of alchemical stuff back up and running. Nice to see you again, kid." He waved, very awkwardly, and retreated into the back room.

Ulric watched him go, then leaned forward. "Is there anything I can do for you right now?"

"I want to look around, if that's okay," said Pelora, raising a hand. "I'm not sure what does rangers actually do."

"Oh, sure, let me show you around a bit," said Ulric, coming around from behind the counter and bringing Pelora to the center of the shop. "A ranger… well, they're warriors who safeguard a way of life. Most of the time, it's the natural world and the frontier, but what a ranger protects is up to their own discretion. They're distinguished by their keen senses, stealth, and one of several distinct combat styles, be it archery, or various dual-wielding techniques—Anwen, I notice you carry both an axe and a sword. Are you a two-blade warrior like your mother, then?"

"Uh, yeah," Anwen said simply.

"Um, I think I might need something for a basic adventurer," Pelora said shyly. "If that's all right. Can you recommend something?"

"Ah, well, that'll be what we around here call the standard adventurer's kit," said Ulric, lifting up a backpack. "Backpack with attached bedroll, comes with finely-crafted flint and steel, a sturdy hempen rope, a waterskin, and two magical sunrods, each good for four hours of bright light. Ten crowns."

Pelora produced her handful of coins. "Is these enough?"

"That'll do it, yeah, it's only ten crowns," he said, neatly picking off ten gold coins out of her hand. "One standard adventurer's kit for you. Anything else I can offer you?"

Anwen rubbed the back of her head, bit her lip, and sighed, but ultimately patted Pelora on the back. "Good choice, Pelora."

"Really? I never used money much before, but I had a feeling this might've been worth it, and we could use it as well." Pelora cheerfully hefted her new backpack.

"Indeed you can," said Ulric. "It'll be a godsend if you're ever out on the road. Should that day ever come… come talk to us first. We'll set you up."

~0~0~0~

Anwen and Pelora rode through a dreary marketplace. A small girl sitting at the base of a fruit stand fiddled with an abacus, while a heavyset and dirty man in a leather cap stood behind it, and waved to them. "Hail!" he called out.

"Anwen, I feel very uncomfortable in this area," Pelora whispered. "Please tell me you know what this place is?"

"Yeah… this probably wasn't a good idea," Anwen admitted. "Whatever you do, don't let your guard down, don't buy anything, and just stay close to me. Understand?" She reached out for Pelora's hand. "This is the lake district… it's not that safe. Hell, I'd even say it's worse than the slums."

"I trust you'll be keeping your weapons at your sides," the fruit vendor said, eyeing Anwen's weapon belt. "You know who the law is around here, I'm sure. Best keep your noses, and your blades, clean." He held out a ripe, red fruit. "Apple?"

"I'm sorry, but no thank you," said Anwen. "Some other time maybe."

"As you will," said the vendor, tossing the apple once, then rolling it back to its place on his stand. "Watch yourselves."

"Yeah, yeah…" said Anwen, gripping Pelora's hand tighter before turning to her. "One more thing that I probably should've brought up to you is that, well, there's a turf war going on. The Black Parrots and Filth Fever. So just stay close, Pelora. We'll look around as much as we can, but we need to get out as soon as they start. Unfortunately, we can't help everyone here by fighting against them. In some ways I think Semaj's recruitment would be needed…"

Pelora nodded. "I'm not for violence anyways, it's against my beliefs."

"Well, looky what we have here." A woman emerged from a nearby filthy pub. Her eyes were covered by dark glasses, her hair concealed by a scarf, but she didn't bother to hide the fact that she had green skin and sharp fangs.

Anwen took a quick glance at her before slowing down her horse and leaning toward Pelora. "Pelora, whatever you do, don't look behind you."

"Why?"

"A medusa," Anwen said quickly. "Very bad news, very dangerous."

"I never met one, or heard of one," Pelora remarked. "Monsters weren't exactly something I learned about. Are they common?"

"'EY!" the medusa snapped, stepping out to block their path. "Don't you go muttering to each other like this is some kind of tactical encounter. I'm talkin' to you. And here's what I have to say: Get out. I don't know who you are and I don't care, I'm not taking any chances with anybody who comes riding in here like some kind of 'adventurer', trying to be noble. This is my turf. Get out."

"But we haven't done anything," Pelora objected. "My friend just show me around this city and I was curious. I'm sorry in case I offended you."

"HA HA HA—I don't care!" the medusa laughed viciously, hysterically. With no effort, she grabbed Poppy and Mertil by their snouts and pushed them backwards. "I don't care what you've done. You're not going to do anything."

"Nyima, I think they're just passing through," the fruit vendor said soothingly.

"Then pass through!" the medusa sneered. "Pass through just this once. And then never again. If I ever hear about you two in this area again, it's a bounty on your heads. Ten crowns for the heads of a couple of slum elf schoolgirls who thinks they're tough shit."

"Don't touch them like that, you scare them!" Pelora exclaimed, dismounting Poppy and going to her head to comfort her. "Don't worry, girl. It's okay."

Nyima removed her glasses, revealing her snakelike yellow eyes. A beam of energy from them enveloped Pelora and Poppy. Pelora flinched away, but Poppy's hooves began to turn to stone.

Pelora screamed. "Are you crazy? WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?! Poppy, my poor Poppy, what have she done to you?"

"HEY!" Anwen bellowed. "WHAT THE HELL IS YOUR PROBLEM? We weren't asking for trouble, we were just trying to mind ourselves. You can bitch at me all you want, but threatening my friend and hurting one of her horses? You're in for it!" She too leapt off her horse.

As the stone continued to spread up Poppy's legs, Nyima spat, "This is MY turf! And you're getting all up in my face! You talk about the turf war between the rats and the ravens? Let me tell you a secret, it doesn't matter! Both of those guilds belong to ME! I am the law in the lake district! I own the entire east side of this city! And no armed and armored adventurer chick is gonna mess it up for me for one single moment!"

Poppy had now turned completely to stone.

Tears ran down Pelora's face. "Poppy… my poor Poppy… how could you do such things to her? She was so harmless and peaceful. How can you ever understand the love I had for her? Have any of you a heart?!" She buried her face in the hard surface of Poppy's neck. "Anwen, just go. Take Mertil to another place."

"NYIMA!" the fruit vendor bellowed, interposing himself between Pelora and the medusa. "That was unnecessary."

"Stay out of this, Tost," Nyima sneered.

"You've made your point," he declared. "Just go."

Nyima considered it briefly. "Just go," she agreed. "Yeah. We're done here." Her shades back on, she pointed at the two of them. "If I ever hear of you passing through here again, your last thought before you die will be of how jealous you are of my great hair and beautiful eyes. I'd best see you two tweetles never." She returned to the pub, shutting the curtained door behind herself.

"What measure is beauty, hair and eyes compared to love anyways…" Pelora mumbled. "Leave, Anwen. I'm not leaving without Poppy…"

"Why that scaly bitch!" Anwen growled, marching toward the pub to pursue the medusa, but she stopped at the sound of Pelora's sobs, turning around to slowly make her way back and putting a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Pelly, I promise you I won't leave you or your horse. I was brought back to life, turning her back is probably easier."

"Actually, I think I can help you with that," said Tost. He walked up to his fruit cart and lifted up its tablecloth, revealing beneath it a collection of potions, oils, and venoms. "Oil of flesh!" he said, holding up a bottle of white oil. "Nyima doesn't mind too much that I carry these… of course, I've never discussed it with her. Probably for the best that I don't. But it can bring your horse back."

Pelora looked up at him. "R-really?" she sniffed. "You can bring back my Poppy?"

"Thank you! We'll take it," Anwen said gratefully. "…How much do you want?"

"Well, for a silver piece I'll brush your Poppy's hair and braid ribbons into it," he said, "but the potion is gonna set you back two hundred crowns."

Anwen barely hesitated before tossing him her bag of cold from Semaj. "Here, take the whole bag!" she said. "It's only twenty crowns, but I'll come back and give you more." She shook her head, ashamed.

"Twenty? Ennnhhh… a tenth of the price is not the price, miss," he said, tossing the bag back to her. "Buuuut… if it's too steep for you, I'll give you the oil if you do me a favor."

"Anything!" said Anwen. "Just help my friend's horse."

"Very well. Cleffy… put them down for a favor."

The tiny girl with the abacus ominously slid a bright red bead from one side to another.

"I'll take the deal," said Pelora, wiping her tears away with her hand. "I'll do anything for Poppy, so I will do the favor."

"All right… favor." He faltered for a moment. "I don't have any favors that need doing at the moment, but I'm sure I'll think of something. I'll, er, I'll find you at your place of residence when I've figured out something that needs doing. Don't worry, I'll find out where that is. You don't live very long in this district when you don't have a network of eyes all over. Isn't that right, Cleffy?"

"Mm-hmm," said the girl.

Tost began to pour the white oil all over Poppy's stone skin. In a moment, Poppy became living again, neighing in surprise and pawing at the ground.

Anwen sighed in relief. "Thank you so much, sir. Please do tell us whatever favor you have and we'll do it."

"Mm, I wouldn't be so optimistic," he said with a grim smile, turning to Pelora. "Well, here's your horse alive again. I hope she satisfies."

"Poppy!" Pelora squealed, hugging her and burying her face in her mane. "Dear Poppy, I promise to never risk you again! Thank you so much, kind sir, and I will do the favor you'll have for us. To find me better, my name is Pelora and I'm a cleric."

"Noted," said Tost, winking at her. "Best be on your way then, lest Nyima come out again and see you're still here."

"Yeah, probably a good idea," said Anwen, climbing back atop Mertil.

"Yes, we better leave right now," said Pelora, getting onto Poppy. "Let's leave, girl." Poppy immediately began trotting away.

~0~0~0~

Passing by a performance hall and the city's barracks, Anwen and Pelora took in a view of the river. Children, leaving school for the day, were filing by to enjoy the river themselves.

"You think that woman will be mad once she sees Poppy isn't neither petrified or in that district again?" Pelora wondered. "What do you think she would've done more to my Poppy?"

"Well… as long as she doesn't see us again I think Poppy will be okay," said Anwen. "Just let's try and limit going there, until that vendor needs us."

"Okay," said Pelora, jumping off of Poppy to get closer to the river. "I'm sorry, for causing this. I thought she could've been reasoned with, if I showed enough kindness."

"Obviously not everyone's going to accept kindness or be reasoned with," Anwen said grimly, dismounting alongside her. "I'm sorry, though… I should've known better than going there."

They were taken out of their contemplation of the river as two men burst out of a bar near the barracks. One was human, the other a hobgoblin, and they rolled across the cobblestone streets. The hobgoblin was the first to stand up—taller than a human, he had scarlet skin and a monkeyish face with sharp teeth.

"I GO WHERE I WISH!" he bellowed. "You will not prevent me!"

The human man, dark-skinned with long curly hair, growled at him, and they continued brawling.

Pelora turned to Anwen. "Should we help? They seem awfully upset."

"Let's check it out first," said Anwen, taking her hand and running with her toward the bar.

"Okay then," said Pelora.

"Stand aside, Ayhak!" the hobgoblin snarled. "I've had enough of you!"

"Your kind aren't welcome in the dirt I walk upon!" the human declared.

"HEY!" Anwen yelled. "What the hell's going on?!"

"Excuse us, kind sirs," Pelora said meekly, "but what is the matter?"

"This goblin scum is causing trouble in my bar!" said the human.

The hobgoblin crossed his arms. "I'm doing no such thing. I am merely being."

"Well, go 'be' somewhere else," the human snarled.

"Wait, he don't get to be there because of what he is?" said Pelora, visibly upset. "That can't be nice. It would be like I'm not welcome for being half-human and half-elf."

"You know, I'm hearing a lot of talk," said Anwen, "but not any actual reason for why you feel the need to kick him out of the bar. You mention his species but not any sort of real trouble."

The human man sneered at them. "Ugh, I should have expected as much from young people. I miss the days when men were men and monsters were monsters… and monsters were for young men to prove themselves by killing."

"Why?" Pelora demanded. "Why kill for fun, that's so unholy and wasting the biggest gift we have; life."

"Not to mention, what does killing monsters prove?" said Anwen. "That you can kill something? Well, I'm sure every fly being swatted at and every animal slaughtered to be part of a meal has already proven that skill overrated enough. It's easy for you to say that when authority is all you have in the way of proving yourself."

The man reached into his shirt and produced a horrid necklace made of severed ears, some of them pointy, most of them green. "Trophies," he growled. "From orcs and goblins. Whom I killed because they were orcs and goblins. They were filthy, and ugly, and for killing. Can't say that anymore! That's a big sin now! Can you even imagine? Is this the future our children want?!"

"You shut your pathetic mouth, human bastard!" the hobgoblin bellowed furiously.

Pelora covered her mouth, fighting back nausea. "Horrible… this makes me feel ashamed of being half-human. How can these people kill… for sport?"

Anwen fondled the necklace in disgust. "Yep, clearly real, and clearly someone hanging onto the old days. Shows what you've done, but you still haven't answered my question: What did he do? Because all I'm getting is someone overcompensating for something by talking about their former glory days. You aren't explaining anything in regards to his actions, just your past actions."

"I have done nothing but exist as a hobgoblin," the hobgoblin growled.

"And we're all just supposed to be okay with that?" the human replies, seething with rage and staggering drunkenly. "We're supposed to accept them into our lives as people? I know people. When I was a boy, people were humans, and elves, and dwarves… halflings… gnomes, allegedly, even though you never really saw them. Those were the good races, and all the others were the evil races, and it was easy. Why do things have to be so difficult now?"

"Really now?" said Pelora, stepping over to him. "What have this person done that is so bad for you? Breathe air? Move with his limbs intact? Simply existing? Then I believe there's the wrong kind that gets to sit in their comfy chair and lament of how they can't go and murder everyone they want in cold blood. Everyone deserves to live. The question is if our decisions makes it worth it or not."

"Uh-huh, now Pelora dear, I think we're seeing the real issue," said Anwen, pointing accusatorily at the human. "You're an old-fashioned kind of ilk who can't handle change, and thus stomp your feet like a child being set in your ways rather than grow up like the rest of us. Clearly your type is going to be obsolete and you're being a coward by asserting authority rather than responsibility." She smirked.

"You're not going to get through to him with your pretty words," the hobgoblin sneered. "To him, I will never be anything but a monster, and you will ever be fools for not seeing me that way." He drew a sword. "Come," he crowed, "let us kill this fool together."

"No. Killing won't solve anything, sir," said Pelora. "Ignorance will be the downfall of many, but don't let it get to you. You're different, yes. But you are you, there's no one like yourself and that's something to be proud of. After all, if everyone were exactly the same, the world would be boring, yes?"

He turned his sword over in his hands and sheathed it. "Then you are cowards, and your compassion is merely condescension," he said darkly. "I will spend my day off work at another bar, then. But this isn't over, Ayhak. I will return." He walked away.

"A small thanks would be nice," Pelora sighed, but she smiled regardless. "I believe we're done here now, right, Anwen?"

Anwen stared after the hobgoblin. "You know, he's totally right," she said monotonously. "It's easy for us to say that what that man did is shitty, but we didn't really do anything to help. He's completely right to not thank us. Talking down someone on the nonexistent moral high ground won't help. Action would, but it's easier to do nothing but act like you have good values."

"You just don't get it, do you?" Ayhak raged. "This 'tolerance', allowing the monstrous races into our lives… it's unholy. Unnatural. An abomination. I've seen drow walking the streets of Sheradon! Drow! Of all things! Have you seen it? The dragonborn and tieflings are emerging from the ashes of their fallen empires and becoming plentiful again. And what, do you suppose, will happen to humanity, and elf-kin, and all the other good races when the monsters rule us once again?"

"The only monster I see right now is racism," Pelora said simply. "Every life has a right, so am I taught. Any call for help deserves a response. In case you have nothing more to say, I suggest you return to your bar."

"Pelora, let's just go," said Anwen. "We've gotten nowhere with this waste of breath."

"Good," Pelora agreed. "I think I must tend to Poppy anyways. She must miss me terribly much."

"So be it," Ayhak growled. "Know that you're part of the problem. History will not look upon you kindly!" He retreated into his bar.

As the two of them approached their horses once again, a nearby sewer grate popped off of its hinges and an enormous black scorpion emerged, its claws glowing with fire and ice gathering around the tip of its tail. It lifted its head to the sky and shrieked.

~0~0~0~

DM's Note: I intended to end the episode after this fight took place, but when we had to go right as I said the words "and a fucking giant scorpion comes out"—well, a cliffhanger session like that definitely merits a cliffhanger episode.

Player's Note from Nathalie/Pelora: Yes, hello. I'm Lunan95, I'm fiancée of the author and also player of the character Pelora. When he approached me with D&D first time, I was hesitant as I had never played it before and I'm always unsure of trying new things. However, trying first time on a chat room named Chatzy, it turned to be interesting. But roleplaying was a horror and I kept feeling unhappy.

Of course, none of it was because of my boyfriend who was organizing this, the characters, or even the game itself. It lied mostly with myself (and Chatzy is awful for roleplaying games). But it caused him to become discouraged and sad, which I felt guilty over. After a year or so, he discovered Discord and I found playing the game much more enjoyable now (highly recommending Discord).

The experience has been absolutely wonderful, I keep track of each session on Saturdays and I try to be in time which isn't easy when I have most responsibility in my family, with the exception of my mom. But I genuinely loves playing D&D as I never got to play any games with friends as child. One of my high ambitions is to get a physical board game of D&D and play with my friends, in a very old school way (I love old school way, gives me a feeling of nostalgia).

I'd like to thank my wonderful boyfriend, for approaching me with this idea and being patient with me. Thanks also to our friend, Kenzie (who plays Anwen) for being there when things went hard. I have very hard to adapt to changes as I have a neuropsychiatric disorder, which caused troubles for me. Starting with D&D was a huge obstacle for me, but both of them helped me through it and now, I truly enjoy playing D&D every Saturday as my weekly routine.