#FictionFriday - Chapter Two - A Fugitive from Justice

Chapter Two - A Fugitive from Justice

Khetrik felt a rhythmic thrumming in his head that told him he hadn’t been unconscious long. The party was still going strong after his little disruption. He wasn’t looking forward to having to explain to Lyrian and Sophie what was happening. However, at the moment he had bigger problems to worry about. As his vision cleared, Khetrik could see that Inquisitor Nox was still unconscious and seated opposite of the ornate Elderwood desk of the Guildmaster.

Even though Galen had made a show of throwing out the inquisitor to keep up appearances, he was a pragmatic and fair man, and not one to cast out a legitimate lawman without cause. No, Galen would listen to what Nox would have to say about Khetrik’s crimes, and then he would come to a fair compromise. Unless, of course, Nox becomes totally unreasonable. An unreasonable Nox is definitely possible of course, as his volatility isn’t to be underestimated, but it also wasn’t likely. Nox can be overzealous and stubborn to a fault, but he is still practiced in etiquette and doesn’t do anything that isn’t measured and calculated to lead to the best result in his mind.

“Ahh, I see your tough hide continues to serve you well, Khetrik!” Galen was smiling at him from his seat behind the cluttered desk. “Awake already! Too bad your enthusiastic friend doesn’t appear to share your stamina. Though, if I was to believe the stories of Lyrian and Sophie, not many do!”

“Well, he’s more of a sprinter, that one, but what he lacks in stamina he makes up for in determination!”

Nox stirred at the sound of their jokes.

“You know, it’s not nice to talk about people behind their backs, Khetrik!”

“Well, Nox, it isn’t my fault that you are sitting with your back to me! I’d gladly say all of these things to your face, although, the view back here is much better!”

Khetrik could feel Nox begin to tense up again.

“Khetrik, don’t aggravate our guest.”

“My apologies, Guildmaster.”

“Guest! Do you typically knock out your guests and tie them up?”

“Usually only when they ask me to, which is surprisingly often!”

Galen waived his hand over a small ruby gemstone on his desk and the manacles around Nox’s hands vanished with a loud pop!

“There, is that more to your liking, Inquisitor?”

“Much better indeed, thank you, Guildmaster.”

“Now, would you be so kind as to explain to me exactly why you disrupted our revelry tonight?”

“It is a simple matter, Guildmaster. I have been hunting this fugitive across Bhakaras for more than three years!”

“Fugitive, you say? Dangerous, I presume?”

“Extremely. He murdered his foster father in cold blood, and in an act of treason, obliterated his shop and stole the remaining contents. The Dragon’s Cauldron was a staple of Jolithrian commerce for more than half a century!”

“That sounds terrible! Khetrik, does this man speak the truth?”

“While it is true that my master was killed, and his life’s work was destroyed, it is categorically untrue that I committed that atrocity. As much as I might have wanted to on occasion, it wouldn’t have made logical sense to me to destroy my own future.”

“Interesting, but not surprising. Most people would claim innocence in the face of such charges. I assume, Inquisitor Nox, that you have evidence to present which links Khetrik to the crime?”

“I do. The crime scene was made to appear to be a standard robbery. The building had been damaged to make it appear as though the wizard had been surprised by a burglar. However, upon further inspection it was very clear that no break in was possible due to the wards the old man had in place. Someone who was intimately familiar with the business obviously staged the break in. The only person other than the wizard himself that could have done it, was Khetrik!”

“I see. Is that all you have?”

“It is enough, guild master.”

“Perhaps to you, Inquisitor Nox, but not to the Delvers! I’m afraid our rules of extradition are quite clear. Only irrefutable evidence will be accepted as valid, and your evidence is circumstantial at best.”

“Circumstantial! It is the most likely scenario given the facts!”

Khetrik couldn’t help but grin.

“Most likely, perhaps,” the guild master replied, “but not the only explanation that would fit the facts, and thus it doesn’t qualify as irrefutable evidence.”

Nox shifted uncomfortably in his seat, and Khetrik again grinned.

“As a Delver, Khetrik is under our protection as long as he is within our walls. That being said, once he has left our halls, you’re welcome to continue your pursuit unimpeded. Does that sound fair?”

“As fair as I could hope for, I suppose, given my less than appropriate introduction to you all.”

“Excellent! Well then, no one is going anywhere until the morning, so please enjoy our hospitality Inquisitor Nox. It is legendary.”

Galen smiled at his remark.

“If you don’t mind; however, I’d like to speak to my charge alone regarding this matter before he returns to his celebration!”

“Who am I to argue?”

“Well said, who indeed. Please, enjoy the party!”

Khetrik was starting to feel more confident.

“Drink a toast to my success, Nox! Put it on my tab!”

Nox’s thin veneer of composure cracked ever so slightly at Khetrik’s prodding, and he turned to glare at Khetrik. Without pausing, he stepped toward his prey and placed his leather clad hand upon his shoulder, squeezing tightly.

“You’ll be mine soon enough, Khetrik!”

Khetrik was genuinely concerned, but as was often the case he was compelled to laugh in the face of danger.

“You know Nox, it is phrasing like that which causes me such confusion about your intentions. I should have you know I’m happily engaged with a pair of beautiful people right now and I couldn’t be happier.”

If Khetrik didn’t know better, he almost though Nox might be becoming immune to his inappropriate jabs. Without giving him the satisfaction of a blush, Nox turned on his heels and moved toward the door, stopping short. Nox turned one more time to look at him and gave him a small salute bringing his fingers into the shape of a winking eye.

“Be seeing you!”

Nox smiled and left with a slight slamming of the door.

Galen’s attitude immediately softened.

“Khetrik, that man has it out for you. Can you handle this once you’ve left?”

“I’ve handled worse, but if I’m not being flip, I’m not sure how I’m going to handle this yet.”

“That might be the most honest thing I’ve ever heard you say, Khetrik! Thank you for that.”

“You’re making me regret it immediately.”

“Well then, let me offer a suggestion. What do you know about Gnumeria?”

“It’s a wasteland, inhospitable to all except the greenskins, and long since burnt out and destroyed. Why do you ask?”

“We’ve received a tip, about lost artifacts of Osiris.”

Khetrik had heard the name before. Osiris was one of the old gods, and one that had fascinated him for years. Osiris was born of seraph and daemon, and was cast out of both heaven and hell, forced to wander Bhakaras and find his purpose. He was said to have once been shattered into one hundred fragments and had to be rebuilt by his beloved. The journey granted him his deific powers over life and death and made him a legend in the ancient lore.

“Osiris, hmm. Definitely intriguing, and not a common name even amongst our lore. I only know of him because I liked to research stories about people who are outcasts.”

“Indeed. It is believed that there is an artifact lost in the ruins of the Port City of Gnumerono that would provide definitive proof of the existence of Osiris. Not to mention it is rumored to carry the secret of immortality.”

“Immortality. An overrated pursuit. Forever is a long time.”

“Always the practical one, Khetrik, but I don’t disagree. However, regardless of how you feel about the prize, the knowledge alone is worth the attempt.”

Khetrik knew Galen wasn’t mentioning the bigger benefit to taking on this new expedition. Gnumeria was covered in a magical miasma that would quickly kill nearly any living being that wasn’t part of the greenskin hordes. It was a fact that meant that Khetrik was one of the only people who could take on the expedition, and it would take him somewhere Nox couldn’t follow.

“When does the expedition leave, Galen?”

“It’s scheduled for the morning, but I’ve convinced the captain to depart during the witching hours. By the time Nox wakes up in the morning, you’ll be long gone.”

“Well then, it looks like it is settled. By the morning, I’ll be on my way to the lands of my ancestors in search of lost treasure!”

As Khetrik was convincing himself of the craftiness of his planned escape, a small blue gem left stuck to his shoulder, just out of sight, pulsed with a faint glow. Outside, in the throng of celebratory revelers, Inquisitor Nox listened intently as a smile crossed his stern face.

#RoughDrafts - Chapter One

Chapter One: A Long-Awaited Party

For three years, I’ve been a fugitive from the Inquisitors of the Trade City of Jolithria. On the run from a man who, based solely on the color of my skin, decided that I was the person who had chosen to kill my adopted father and destroy his business. It was irrelevant it didn’t make any sense for me to do so. Inquisitor Nox had made his judgments about me the day he saw me.

I can’t say that I wouldn’t have wanted to kill my adopted father some days. Veltayne was a cruel and capricious old wizard, who cared more about what I could do for him than whether or not I was well taken care of. He had adopted me after finding me on the street being beaten to death by some noble’s children, but I think it was less out of compassion and more out of acquiring slave labor that no one would question.

That being said, Veltayne did actually take good care of me. He provided me a home, food, work, and the ability to learn more about magic and science and the history of the world. He even named me as his inheritor should he have passed, which surprised me to say the least. The old man was the closest thing to a true father I ever had, and if I was going to go to the effort of killing him, I wouldn’t have destroyed my inheritance in the process.

In fact, the laws of Jolithria don’t even consider murdering family in order to take ownership of their possessions a crime. No, my alleged crime is the destruction of a valuable part of the business community of the Trade City. Unfortunately, Nox can’t see past the green tinge of my half-breed skin to realize that I’m not a mindless savage. I’m actually a very practical and logical and intelligent young man and there would be no incentive for me to destroy the old man’s shop.

Admittedly, the tensions between the race of my birth father and the rest of the world were not unfounded or understated. The Orc clans were savage, lawless, and spent their days raiding and pillaging the civilized lands of Bhakaras. In fact, it was one of those savage and lawless raids on an elven fishing village that resulted in my birth into the world. Rarely did the Orc tribes behave with any greater forethought than three basic questions: Can I kill it? Can I eat it? Can I mate with it? If you were unfortunate, the answer to all three would be yes and the best you could hope for is that they’d opt to answer those questions in order.

I guess you can say I don’t have a good relationship with my heritage. My mother’s people aren’t much better. Arrogant, aloof, judgmental to a fault. I can’t say I deal with them much, but when I do, the best I can hope for is impolite disinterest in my existence. Usually they opt not to see my elven features and lump me in with the rest of the greenskins.

The one benefit of being born to an orc and an elf is that, even if people only see me as an orc, I am the prettiest orc that ever lived. I’ve been blessed with a strong, muscular, yet lean, build. By elf standards, I’m a fat elf, meatier around the middle and my orc skin isn’t quite as tight and taught as an elf’s would be. By orc standards, I’m scrawny, almost deflated, but still extraordinarily strong with softer, smoother features that one would expect from a kindly father, rather than a marauding barbarian. To the other races of the world though, I’m exotic and my unusual body is a source of intrigue.  My green skin isn’t garish like most orcs or goblins but more the color of olives in the summer. My green eyes glow with an otherworldly aura that just screams mysterious, and my thick, long black hair falls around my pointed ears and angular jaw to rest on my broad shoulders.

Ok, so I’m a little bit full of myself. That being said, I would like to think that the people currently fondling my arms would agree as I sit back and enjoy a sip of a well-earned honeyed mead in celebration of my triumphant return from my latest expedition.

To my left is Sophie, a slightly rotund and adorable young human woman with curly auburn hair, and vibrant blue eyes, and a sun-kissed face. She is also one of the Delvers, an adventuring guild whom I’ve worked with now since I fled Jolithria. Although she doesn’t go on expeditions, Sophie has more knowledge than most of the well-traveled Delvers as one of the Keepers of Knowledge in the Delver’s library.

“Khetrik, I’m always so happy when you make it back in to see us after a long expedition…”

Sophie wasn’t subtle or particularly clever with her innuendo, but what she lacked in flirtatious linguistic skills she made up for with genuine joy, enthusiasm and humor.

“Sophie my dear, the length of one’s expedition is irrelevant, it’s all about the prizes at the end!”

Lyrian Blazingwood on the other hand, was usually quite a clever flirt. The half-elven young man was beautiful to behold, with golden hair cropped short and styled with scented oils that made it appear not unlike his head was aflame. He had smooth, pale pink skin, and hazel eyes that seemed to stare right through you into your very soul. When we first met we bonded over how much we both enjoyed being half-breed pariahs in elven society. As usual, Lyrian planted himself in my lap to punctuate his latest joke.

“Shall I sing you a love-song about a unicorn, this evening, Khetrik?” Lyrian smiled as his face drew closer to mine.

Without skipping a beat, I pulled Sophie into my lap as well.

“As you both know, unicorns are my favorite legendary creatures.” It would have been inappropriate not to punctuate my flirtatious jest without kissing them both, so I did.

Where Sophie was keeper of a library, Lyrian was a walking collection of songs, stories and lore from around the world. Lyrian was a bard by trade, performing in taverns and on stages across Bhakaras and using his connections to gather information that the Delvers would use to plan and execute expeditions into dangerous forgotten tombs, dungeons and other lost places. Working alone is best for me, but it’s coming home to the company of these beautiful people that make it all worthwhile.

I had just returned from an expedition to the caves of Pax Surpennoria and brought with me several ancient dwarven relics from the days when they still worshipped the ancient Wyrms of the Wheel. In addition, the best find, was an in-tact tablet that traced the ancestry of the line of King Ghalar, which was information thought to be forever lost. I know, I get excited about old rocks and trinkets and history, things that matter less and less to the world at large these days. However, I wouldn’t trade what I do for the world. It’s important to feel connected to something larger than yourself, and even if I don’t, if I can help others to feel that way then I’ve done some good in the world.

Lyrian and Sophie don’t know much about my past. I’m not good at sharing, or talking about my life with people. However, they don’t care. They enjoy my company and the fleeting time we have together and that is a beautiful thing. Unfortunately, something from my past was about to matter to all of us by disrupting our time together.

It took me a moment to register that he had walked in, a human dressed in a long black duster, and leathers stepped into the main hall of the Delver’s guild lodge. The room was fairly large, able to comfortably house close to three-hundred people, although at the moment it was housing nearly twice that number due to the celebration of the end of our latest expedition. The lodge was built with steelwood from the forest of Hylar and all of the furnishings were made with similar materials accented and cushioned with pelts from a wide variety of game from across Bhakaras. The lodge was open to everyone, members and not, and our revelries usually attracted a lot of “first-time” visitors, so this man wasn’t a terribly unusual site. However, I noticed that he was carrying a scroll with a drawing on it and appeared to be asking around the room about whatever image it displayed.

As I leaned forward between the heads of Lyrian and Sophie to get a better look, my eyes locked with the stranger’s pale blue orbs and I knew I was screwed. NOX! That damned inquisitor had found me after all this time. With unearthly speed, the inquisitor leaped through the air above the writhing mass of revelers and brought himself down to slam right into me.

Now, this wasn’t the first time that Nox and I had crossed paths over the last three years. In the city of Galiria, Nox had nearly ruined an expedition into their long buried Oubliette Roux by flooding us out of the space with a Decanter of Endless Water. He also accidentally destroyed the ship we were attempting to use to sail to Surpennoria last year, which actually allowed me to meet a very kind Drake who offered to fly me to his place in the outskirts of the draconic kingdom. However, he had never gotten quite this close.

I had to react fast to avoid Lyrian or Sophie getting caught in the crossfire, so I unceremoniously pushed them off my lap to land with a thud on the floor by my chair, and I sprung to my feet to avoid the blow I knew was coming. Nox came down from his leap as I stood, planting his studded boots into my chest and shattering the gazelle skinned chaise beneath us.

“You are under arrest under Jolithrian’ law! If you resist in any way, I am permitted to terminate your life!” Nox shouted.

Not one to resist an opportunity for comedy in the face of abject terror, I shouted back at him as I called the energy of the plane of the fae to carry me away from him. The air crackled and hummed and I was suddenly above him, perched on the railing of the second floor balcony nearly thirty steps away from the inquisitor.

“Why are you so obsessed with me, Nox?”

I gave Lyrian an unspoken glance and he pulled Sophie, who was seconds away from pouncing on the unsuspecting inquisitor, away from the throng as the rest of the crowd backed away from the black-clad lawman.

“You know why, Khetrik Two-Worlds!” Nox growled.

“I told you, I appreciate your interest, but you just didn’t do it for me, Nox! You’ve got to stop chasing me around the world! No, means no!”

I could see Nox’s face changing from his usual pink hue to a bright red, and his stern expression soured even further. If he didn’t like that joke he’s certainly not going to like this! I could feel the electricity surge through my body as I called forth the magical energies I was blessed to be able to tap into by virtue of my birth and launched a bolt of lightning at the inquisitor before using the residual energy of the fae plane to make a hasty return to the door. If I moved quickly, I could get outside before him and get lost in the woods. He was a good tracker, but I had some advantages on my home turf.

I was surprised to see that Nox didn’t dodge the blast but instead let it strike his outstretched hand, causing a silver band on his wrist to glow with runic writing. The blast seemed to absorb into the silver band. He just smiled and slid it off his wrist before tossing it directly at where I was teleporting to. Before I could react, the band hit me and reformed snapping around my neck like a collar while hitting me with a rather potent jolt.

I don’t know exactly how long it took me to shake of the stunning blow, but when my vision cleared I was on my knees and Nox was towering over me. My mouth always gets me into trouble, but sometimes I can’t stop myself, and I’d already had more than my fair share of mead this evening.

“You know Nox, if you really wanted me on my knees for you, all you had to do was ask!”

Nox’s face turned even redder, and I couldn’t stifle a mischievous grin before his leather-gloved fist connected with my jaw and I could taste the iron from the blood that was now starting to pool in my mouth. I knew I wasn’t going to stay conscious for very long, but he wasn’t going to get the satisfaction of shutting me up just yet.

“You made one big mistake, Nox…” I said, spitting some of my greenish-purple blood onto the hardwood floor, “you came at me in my house, and you forget... the Delver’s have rules.”

I saw the look of sudden realization come across Nox’s face as he turned away from me to see our leader, Galen van Straud, standing in his ornate red and gold robes pointing a wand at the inquisitor. Galen shifted his brown eyes toward mine and a small, subtle grin crossed his dark brown lips. To his side Lyrian and Sophie were standing, arms crossed.

“Inquisitor Nox of Jolithria, you have violated the sanctity of the Delver’s Lodge and attacked one of our members without provocation. The penalty for this is a severe ass-whooping, followed by your summary removal from our lands!”

Galen flicked his wrist and a wave of multi-colored energy flew at Inquisitor Nox. The last thing I heard before I passed out from the pain was Nox shouting a single word before hitting the ground with a thud.

“SHIT!”

#FictionFriday - Chapter One: A Long-Awaited Party (Edited)

Chapter One: A Long-Awaited Party

Three years. For three years, Khetrik had been on the run. Of course, for him, it never felt like he was running away from his past. No, Khetrik was forever running towards his next great discovery. However, for a Delver, running towards something new often leads to slamming face first into the past.

Stumbling into the unexpected is how Khetrik came upon his chosen profession. He was orphaned at a very young age, and made his way by wandering the streets of the mystical Trade City of Jolithria. Living as an urchin on the streets of a magical city was fraught with danger, but Khetrik somehow survived relatively unscathed. Until some of the noble children found him while playing in alleys of the Green Bazaar.

Khetrik, barely six years old, was beset upon by two well-dressed teenage boys, when a strange elderly man in black robes, and a tall conical hat came upon the scene. This small olive skinned ragamuffin was being trampled by obviously physically stronger young lads, and the old man without hesitation intervened. With a flick of his wrist, the air around the boys cracked and their bodies began to contort hideously until they no longer resembled children, but instead a large pig and a lamb.

The elderly wizard extended his walking stick to prod the broken and bleeding form of the small unusual looking child.

“Are you still alive, boy?”

Khetrik could barely manage to nod his head as he felt the cooling relief of the wet cobblestone pressed against his bruised ribs.

“Well then, get up and get moving. Is that any way to show your appreciation for my valiant rescue?”

Khetrik winced as he forced himself to his feet.

“That’s better, boy. Follow me.”

“What about them?” Khetrik asked

“They got what they deserved! Don’t waste time worrying about the fates of lesser men.”

With that, the old man led Khetrik away and into the Dragon’s Cauldron, his magical curio shop and bookstore. Khetrik would later learn that the ancient wizard was called Veltayne, and that the old man’s kind rescue was less than altruistic in nature. Veltayne was getting on in years, and needed someone smaller and nimbler to help him explore dark places to find the treasures he could sell in his shop. Although, as Veltayne’s ward, Khetrik grew up as little more than slave labor, the arrangement proved mutually beneficial as Khetrik learned how to become one of the most skilled dungeoneers in Bhakaras.

So it was, that when Khetrik was forced to flee his home due to false accusations of murder, theft and destruction of property, he had his skills a professional explorer of places dark and creepy to fall back on. All in all, the situation worked out very well for Khetrik, despite his being a wanted fugitive. Khetrik had quickly fallen in with a guild of archeologists, historians, treasure-seekers, and tomb raiders called The Delvers. They were an honorable, if rowdy, lot who explore the places where others fear to delve for profit and glory, but most importantly to rediscovering the long lost histories of Bhakaras, and Khetrik had developed a reputation for being the most fearless of his kind.

It was his fearless pursuit of knowledge, treasure and fun, which had resulted in the revelry that was now occurring around Khetrik. The oaken walls of the Delver’s lodge were packed full of party goers. The main hall was designed to comfortably seat a couple hundred folk, but was currently filled with nearly three times that number. The rhythmic stomps of a drunken crowd augmented the percussive beats of the Brownnotes, a Bard College band made up of many up exclusively of members of the order who made an art of turning tales of various expeditions into inspiring songs. 

While all the people around him where there to celebrate his triumphant return from the caves of Pax Surpennoria, Khetrik found himself focused on the two people closest to him. Seated in the Elk-horn Throne of Champions, Khetrik was positioned roughly in the center of the hall, and at each arm was found a beautiful creature doting on the hero.

To his left was a slightly rotund and adorable young woman with curly auburn hair, a sunkissed complexion, and vibrant blue eyes. Sophie was a member of the delvers, but she wasn’t part of the expeditionary crews. Sophie instead spent her days organizing and cataloguing the vast libraries of the Delvers, as a Keeper of Knowledge. Sophie in particular has a unique skill of recall and is widely believed to have the entire library memorized. While Khetrik valued his friend’s mind greatly, tonight he was admiring her other features.

“Khetrik, I’m always so happy when you make it back to us after a long expedition…”

Sophie, bless her soul, wasn’t very subtle or clever with her innuendo, but what she lacked in flirtatious linguistics she made up for with genuine joy, enthusiasm and humor. Khetrik couldn’t help but grab onto her ample hind and draw her into his lap as he continued the banter.

“Sophie, my dear, the length of one’s expedition is irrelevant, it’s all about the treasure to be found in the end!”

“Always the poet, Khetrik. You certainly know how to make a lad jealous!”

Lyrian on the other hand, was usually quite a clever flirt. He was beautiful to behold, with golden hair cropped short and styled with scented oils that gave his hair the illusion of his head being wrapped in golden flames. His skin was smooth, and fair, with glittering hazel eyes that seemed to stare right through you. When we met, he and I bonded over the fact that we shared symmetrical faces, and ears that although not as pronounced as an elf, were still pointed in a way that evoked those aetherial beings. As usual, Lyrian planted himself upon Khetrik’s lap, and smiled.

“Shall I sing you a love song about a unicorn, this evening, Khetrik?”

Lyrian moved closer so their noses were practically touching.

“As you both know, unicorns are my favorite creatures of legend!” Khetrik then boldly kissed Lyrian, followed quickly by an equally bold kiss for Sophie. The trio laughed and curled up in Khetrik’s strong arms. Khetrik, at first glance, would appear to be slim and lithe, but he was actually very well built, with a small rounded belly, and a strength that seemed unlikely for his size. With relative ease, Khetrik was easily carrying around both of his friends.

“Khetrik, be careful not to drop me, my adoring fans would be beside themselves if I couldn’t perform tonight!”

“Especially Sophie and I!” Khetrik winked.

Where Sophie was a keeper of written lore, Lyrian was a walking collection of songs, and stories from around the world. A bard by trade, Lyrian got his start with the Brownnotes, and although he had years ago left them to enjoy his solo pursuits, tonight was a special occasion and he would sing with his bandmates again. Lyrian spent most of his days traveling the world using his skills and connections to learn of secrets that the Delvers would use to plan their expeditions to dangerous forgotten tombs, dungeons and other lost places. Khetrik was typically a loner on expeditions, but when he returned home to his friends, alone was the last thing he wanted to be.

Khetrik’s most recent expedition was to the ancient dwarven city of Pax Surpennoria. Many years before, the city had fallen during a civil war that erupted between the factions of Dragonkind that lived beneath the cave city. The dwarves had been forced to flee their home and had long thought that their heirlooms were lost forever. However, Khetrik was able to recover an in-tact tablet that traced the ancestry of the great dwarf king, Ghalar. Of course, Khetrik also brought back some valuable magical artifacts and precious stones, but to him the greatest prize was the recovery of a small piece of history thought to be lost forever. Khetrik didn’t expect to have much of a legacy, but if he could help restore some of the past people had lost, it would be enough for him.

Speaking of the past, Khetrik never really explained to his friends in the guild why he had left his home and run head first into danger. The wonderful thing about his friends was that even if the past were to be revealed, they would be more concerned about the here and now and the fleeting and beautiful time they have together between adventures. Unfortunately for Khetrik, one cannot avoid their own past forever, and his friends were about to discover something that would disrupt their fun together for some time.

Khetrik didn’t immediately register the man who walked into the hall dressed in a long, black duster, and leathers. The lodge was build of Steelwood from the forests of Hylar, and all the furnishings inside were constructed of similar material, adorned with the pelts, trophies and leather of a wide variety of game from across Bhakaras. The reason the lodge was so full is because of the Delvers open door policy allowing local riff-raff to join visit the lodge for drinks and food as long as no one violated the rules of the Delvers, and end of expedition parties tended to attract a lot of ‘first-timers’. 

As such, it wasn’t unusual for a strange man to enter the lodge. However, unlike the other revelers, he was carrying a scroll with a picture and appeared to be asking very pointed questions of the less-than-helpful inebriated party goers.

“What is that man doing, Khetrik?” Sophie asked.

“Besides ruining the aesthetic?” Lyrian jabbed.

Khetrik remained quiet as he focused in on the man, and the scroll in his hand which bore an image of his own face curved into a leering grimace. Involuntarily, his face was now making the same shape as he realized was happening. Nox had found him at last.

Inquisitor Nox was an up and coming investigator in the Jolithrian Inquest when Veltayne had been found murdered in his shop, with the contents stolen or destroyed. Since that time, he had relentlessly pursued Khetrik across Bhakaras. Of course, Nox was good at his job, and as such, he and Khetrik had a few close calls over the years.

In the city-state of Galiria, Nox had managed to track Khetrik down during an expedition to the long buried Oubliette Roux. His attempt to capture Khetrik using a Decanter of Endless Water caused a massive flood that nearly drowned them all. Thankfully, Khetrik was able to conjure a quick spell to allow him to breathe underwater and escape.

Most recently, Nox had blown up a charter ship to Surpennoria in an effort to prevent Khetrik from escaping his grasp. Little did he know, Khetrik had befriended a Lightning Drake, and was already en route via the air. Every time the inquisitor got close, Khetrik was one step ahead. Unfortunately, he wasn’t so lucky this time.

Nox’s pale blue locked eyes with Khetrik’s verdant orbs and leaped through the air towards his target.

“Khetrik! You are under arrest by the authority of the Jolithrian Inquisition! If you resist in any way, I’m permitted to terminate your life!”

Khetrik’s first concern was that Lyrian and Sophie avoid getting caught in the crossfire. With very little finesse, Khetrik let them go, which resulted in both of them hitting the floor at his sides. He then tried to spring to his feet to dodge the incoming blow, but Nox was too quick and his studded leather boots collided with Khetrik’s chest causing the gazelle skinned chaise beneath them to shatter.

The wind was knocked out of Khetrik’s sails, but he was quick to recover. With a snap of his fingers the air crackled and hummed, and Khetrik was suddenly gone in a puff of azure mist. From a balcony above the lounge, Khetrik’s playful voice could be heard.

“Why are you so obsessed with me, Nox?”

“You know why, Twoworlds!”

Khetrik noticed that Sophie was ready to pounce on the unsuspecting inquisitor, so he gave a quick signal to Lyrian to pull her away as he continued to taunt the inquisitor.

 “I told you, Nox. I appreciate your interest, but you’re just not my type! You’ve got to stop this ridiculous chase around the world! No, means no!”

If there was one thing Khetrik knew would get under Nox’s skin, it was a little playful innuendo. Nox was nothing if not a prude. The change in the color of Nox’s cheeks from a light pink to bright red made it clear that Khetrik was having the desired effect. Nox was entirely focused on Khetrik, he’d need to ensure that Nox stayed right where he was to avoid causing any collateral damage. Khetrik summoned a bolt of lightning from his outstretched palm, using the dazzling display to distract as he once again teleported away from his perch.

Unfortunately, Nox was prepared for this particular trick of Khetrik’s and allowed the blast to strike him directly, almost catching the bolt with his outstretched hand. Instead of blasting him off his feet, the energy seemed to cascade around him before being absorbed into the glowing runes on his silver bracelet. Nox then spun around and brought his fist perfectly into the space where Khetrik was rematerializing behind the inquisitor. His fist connected squarely with Khetrik’s forehead and the energy stored coursed through his knuckles stunning the unsuspecting rogue.

Khetrik dropped to his knees, and groggily shook his head for a moment that felt like eternity, and then, glassy-eyed, looked up at Nox. Khetrik was definitely not in a position to provoke Nox any further, but then again, he also wasn’t one to always make good choices.

“You know, Nox, if you really wanted me to get on my knees for you, all you had to do was ask!”

Khetrik grinned, obviously pleased with himself, as Nox’s now crimson face flushed and he pulled back and landed a punch on Khetrik’s unprotected jaw. Khetrik could taste iron, and he knew he’d be unconscious in a moment, but he was never one to let that stop him from getting the last word.

“You made one big mistake, Nox,” Khetrik spat some of the greenish purple blood pooling in his mouth onto the hardwood floor, “you came after me in my home, and you seem to have forgotten… the Delver’s have rules!”

Nox’s triumphant smirk immediately fell from his face as the realization dawned on him that he really had made a mistake. The guildhall of the Delvers was considered a sanctuary and he had violated that by attacking Khetrik in his zeal. Without making any sudden movements, Nox turned to follow Khetrik’s gaze at the figure looming behind him. The guildmaster of the Delvers, Galen van Straud, was staring him down, clad in ornate red and gold robes and brandishing a wand which he used to punctuate his words.

“Inquisitor Nox of Jolithria, you have violated the sanctity of the Delver’s Lodge and attacked one of our members without provocation. The penalty for this is a severe ass-whooping, followed by your summary ejection from the premises!”

Galen didn’t wait for Nox to offer a protest to defend himself, all the poor inquisitor managed to get out was a single word...

“SHIT!”

With a flick of Galen’s wrist a wave of myriad colors of energy flew towards the unprepared lawman, striking him square in the chest, and both Khetrik and Nox hit the ground with an undignified thud.

---

Prologue of a Blog:

What is the point of a prologue, anyway? As a child, I would often skip the prologue as I confused it with an introduction. To me, introductions were simply people writing about what I was about to read. What use was that to me when I could simply read it for myself (I wouldn't develop an appreciation for commentary on a creative work until I was much older).  The prologue is an invention unique to the form of written storytelling. It's that extra piece of information that, while not essential to the telling of the story, informs much of the events of the story being told. It wasn't until I re-read Dragons of Autumn Twilight for the third time that I paused to read the prologue, and my mind blossomed at the joy that was the subtle foreshadowing of the events to come. It was through this book that I first began to appreciate the uses of a prologue.

I have found, in my experience as a consumer of written creativity, that the best prologues retain three key elements:

First, they must not be essential to the plot of the story being told.

Depending on your philosophical bent, it is either a failure of the prologue or a failure of the storyteller if you cannot skip the prologue and still have all the necessary information to enjoy and appreciate the story. I personally prefer to call it a failure of the prologue as it is an easier thing to remedy, even though it is probably more accurate to blame the storyteller. The prologue is like an appetizer, many times it's unnecessary to having a complete meal; however, the experience of the meal is enhanced by its inclusion.   

Second, they must, in some subtle way, set the stage for the story being told.

While the prologue cannot be essential, it is just as much of a failure for the prologue to be completely irrelevant. If the prologue tells the story of a female spider that kills her lover in mid-coitus, and then uses his corpse to feed her young before dying from the effort, yet the story is about a group of teenagers who hang out at a mall. You are left with a feeling of "why did I read that"? (Which is a feeling you could just have easily have gotten without reading the prologue.) However, if the prologue tells that same story at the head of a novel about a woman (abused by her lover) who finally plots to murder him knowing that it will ultimately destroy her but will lead to a better future for her children, then the prologue serves as an allegory from nature that reflects (albeit with slight variations in motivation) the overall arc of the main character. As a bonus, the prologue in this example can also serve as an effective foreshadow of the protagonist's final fate.                

Finally, they must be fun in a compelling way.

Not unlike the two-minute teaser to an hour-long drama, the prologue is often the "short-attention span" tester for whether or not someone will devote their precious, valuable time to fully engaging with this particular creative work. If the prologue doesn't hook you, you aren't likely to keep reading the book. For example, if the prologue to a book like The Hobbit, was simply a five page description of a shorter than usual old man listing a bunch of odd names and places that he visited when he was young, you'd set the book down immediately and never look back (unless you enjoy reading lists written by the elderly). By doing so, you'd miss out on reading a story about a quiet homebody, who gets drafted by a wizard to help some boisterous and rowdy dwarves go fight a dragon, and ends up having the time of his life. However, if instead, the prologue involved a spritely fellow secretly following  a curmudgeonly man and changing all his "Keep Out" signs to welcome mats touting free food, free ale, and a place to rest your mud soaked dwarven boots. A scene ending with a satisfied curmudgeon musing about how, "No one will ever bother him now".  Then you might want to keep reading, just to see what kind of mischief occurs when the curmudgeon gets all manner of unwanted guests.

So you see how important this small quirk of written stories can be to the overall effectiveness of that story's telling. In that way, I've provided this prologue to my reinvigorated blog. I've attempted this several times before, with limited success. Usually it is because my own failings prevent me from achieving the goal of writing something creative and useful on a daily basis. All I can promise is that I've learned from my previous missteps (which you can still find here), and that I hope to bring you something every day that is creative, fun, and entertaining in a compelling enough way that you will always come back for more. Additionally, I promise that this will not contain any stories about teenagers hanging out in a mall. However, time will tell as to whether or not my prologue will fit my own criteria for success; because the most important gauge of a successful prologue is that a great story follows it.

Thank you for joining me for the ride!

Rough Draft

Hi All, got a small sample of a rough draft that I may use as a springboard for NaNoWriMo this year!

Enjoy

Prologue: Shield of Secrets, Shield of Faith

Draconas’ leather booted feet sunk deep in the muddy path leading to The Wailing Woman. He was surprised that they didn’t even have cobblestone roads, yet they had a large enough population of visitors that The Wailing Woman’s hearths usually burned brightly until sunrise. Tonight was no exception, and the small tavern looked to be overrun this evening. Draconas wondered why he’d even bothered coming here as he pushed open the thick wooden door, allowing the light of the tavern to wash over him. He could feel the eyes of all the tavern patrons on his tall, muscular frame as he stepped inside. This was most certainly not one of his best ideas.

The village of Essex had seen more than its fair share of excitement in the past year. The local tribe of Dragonspines had become twisted by a kind of fel energy created by the experiments of the brother of the Lord Mayor Christopher Essex, and Draconas’ had heard that a group of orphans had managed to save the city from total obliteration using an artifact they had discovered in the Dragonspine caves to the north. Draconas’ was a man intrigued by unique artifacts and from what he had heard this one was definitely unique. Supposedly, the artifact was a tower shield made from the scales of a white dragon which held the still-living spirit of the deceased dragon within. Any artifact possessed of a soul was of interest to him, even if it was a strange one.

Draconas passed several chattering patrons and made his way to a vacant table near the back of the room. Draconas was used to getting strange looks, as his unusually tan skin and vibrant blue eyes drew much attention naturally, and his choice of clothing did little to push that attention away. His chest was covered by a skin-tight vest of velvet-lined bronze-like metal that so closely resembled his own skin tone that people often thought he was wearing no covering at all.  Similarly disguised, the pair of bracers upon his wrists became visible only as he cast off his heavy, navy and brown embroidered cloak. Draconas’ removal of his cloak also revealed the vibrant crimson sash and pair of glassteel scimitars that were attached to his waist. Draconas sat in the chair and angled himself so he could observe the room, an act which also discouraged the patrons continued stares.

Once he was situated, he began to browse the room for the creature who had contacted him. He figured that a small blue-white lizard-man would be fairly easy to spot among a crowd of humans, yet there wasn’t one to be seen in the tavern. The tavern was fairly packed though, with nearly twenty tables full of boisterous townsfolk. The owner, Marlea (the woman the bar was named for), shuffled from table to table taking drink orders and barking them to the obviously overworked barkeep, while several other young barmaids slipped from table to table dispensing the food and drinks that the matron had already called for. As one of the girls passed a table, one grey-bearded man pinched her on the behind which startled her and caused her to spill the contents of her tray on the man’s head.

“TEEK!” Marlea bellowed, “Where are you? We have a mess to clean!”

Out of the kitchen, a small draconic creature emerged carrying a bar rag and a bucket. “I is here mistress, please do not be cross!”

“You ask the impossible, Teek! Now clean up that mess. As for you,” Marlea swiftly snatched the grey-bearded man’s ear, “you know the rules about grabbin’ at me girls, Gerhardt!” With a tug she yanked him out of his seat, to the door, and unceremoniously kicked him out the door. “Anyone else got a mind to mess with the maids?”

The combination of rapid head shaking and downtrodden looks seemed to appease the matron and she resumed her duties pleasantly enough. Draconas suddenly realized that the name of the bar was less about the emotional outbursts of the owner than it was about her ability to dish out physical punishment. Draconas was also a little surprised by the kobold, Teek. When he’d been informed about the shield, he was told that Teek was its bearer and the last survivor of the Dragonspine tribe. He’d expected a much bolder figure rather than a mobile bar-mop. Nonetheless, he needed to know more about the shield and Teek had the information.

Draconas left his seat and approached the little kobold, kneeling down to help him with his cleaning.

“Oh, no sir, Teek will clean. Please return to your table, sir!”

“Nonsense, I’m glad to help the brave Teek.” Draconas said with a smile.

“Brave?” Teek snorted, “Perhaps you drink too many elf fizzes, Teek is many things but he is no brave.”

“TEEK! Do I pay you to clean or to chatter?”

“Clean, mistress, clean! You go now, sir!” Teek shooed Draconas back to his table.

“Alright, Teek. Promise to come visit my table when you are finished and I’ll leave you be.”

“Teek promises, now go.” Teek resumed his cleaning, ringing the booze soaked rag into the wooden bucket.

Draconas sat back down and waited patiently for Teek to finish his chores, ordering several glasses of Hylar reserve and a plate of spiced eyeroot. After nearly an hour, Teek tottered over to Draconas’ table, climbing into the chair opposite him.

“What you want, T’lorian?” Teek asked.

Draconas eyes went wide for a moment, but he quickly regained composure. “What makes you think I’m a T’lorian?”

“Vinterwysp shows Teek many things,” Teek’s eyes sparkled as he spoke, “He showed Teek T’lorians, and he showed Teek you…”

“Who is Vinterwysp?”

“He the one you’ve come to see, he Teek’s lord.”

Draconas assumed that Teek was referring to the soul within the shield. If he’d had any doubts about the validity of the tale, they were assuaged the moment Teek uttered the word T’lorian. Only a dragon, and a fairly old one at that, would be aware enough of the T’lorians to identify one on sight. T’lorians mostly resemble humans, although they can actually resemble any of the races of Bhakaras, and very few in the world are aware of them by anything other than name. T’lorians pride themselves on being capable of blending in with the other races and keeping themselves hidden in the shadows. If nothing else, Teek had just proven himself to be dangerous.

“Can I speak to Vinterwysp, Teek?”

“Of course, come with Teek.” Teek hopped off his chair and began to walk towards the door. Draconas also got up, wrapping his cloak around himself and dropping a gold piece on the table for his refreshments.

“Where’d you think you’re off to, Teek?” Marlea shot him a stern look.

“This man wants to see scales, Teek show him.” Teek gestured to Draconas

Marlea eyed Draconas closely for a moment and then spoke “Make it quick, Teek. There’s a lot more to clean tonight after the locals clear out.”

“Yes, Mistress.”

Draconas and Teek went back outside into the rain and mud, trudging through the town square to a large burnt out manor home. As they made their way, Draconas noticed that the fountain in the square was shattered and seemed permanently darkened by ash.

“That was where they killed Ikthahir.” Teek’s voice was no longer impish and broken as he responded to Draconas’ stares.

“Ikthahir, he was the High Priest of the Dragonspine wasn’t he?”

“Yes, for a time, but he was twisted by that sorceress and driven mad. He got what he deserved for betraying us and our lord Vinterwysp.”

“Why are we going to that manor? It looks abandoned.”

“It wasn’t abandoned; it was heavily damaged in Ikthahir’s attack on the town. It belonged to the Lord Mayor’s brother and served as home to the orphans he was caring for and the place for his dark experiments. The orphans gave the home to me when they left Essex in gratitude for my help.”

“If you are a land-owner in the town why do you work as a bar-cleaner?”

“Matron and Lord Essex thought that the villagers would have a hard time living with a kobold if I was strong and intelligent like Ikthahir. The village had already entered into a shaky alliance with a kobold only to have it nearly destroy them and they wouldn’t have accepted it again. Instead, we all agreed that I should pretend to be meek and subservient to the villagers so that they would allow me to remain here. I had no home among my kind anymore and the orphans were rather insistent that I be allowed to live here in Essex.”

“… and what of Vinterwysp?” Draconas asked

“You like to stay focused… that’s good. Vinterwysp is in my care, eventually someday he and I will help gather together the survivors of the Dragonspine and we will rebuild our clan. However, for now we wait and build up resources.” Teek’s clawed feet sunk deep into the muddy road as they climbed the small hill to the manor.

“So, you believe there are more of you still alive?” Draconas reached out and pulled Teek up out of the mud as he strode up the hill.

“I have hope and faith in Vinterwysp. He protected me from that evil sorceress and helped me save the Desmond boys from those Succubae, and he helped the orphans find their father, unfortunately.”

“Why unfortunately?” Draconas stopped Teek.

“Nathaniel Essex was a demented sorcerer who spent his time doing all manner of vile experiments just because he could. The orphans themselves were an experiment he was conducting. He was attempting to use them to transcend normal mortality, but they learned of his goals and were forced to fight and kill him. That is why they left their home, too many bad memories.”

“I see.” Draconas and Teek resumed their walk to the manor door.

As they approached the manor, Draconas still thought the place looked abandoned, there was no roof, the northern tower had collapsed in on itself, and the entire remaining standing structure was either burnt out or rotten. However, he could feel something as he approached. A psychic resonance that was very strong.

Welcome, Draconas Darkestarr. It is good to see you.

Draconas was used to telepathic communication as his people used it as their primary method of conversation; however, it was still a little unnerving when he didn’t expect it.

Vinterwysp?

Yes. Please follow Teek into the laboratory.

Teek smiled and pointed to a brick façade on the side of the collapsed tower. He walked up to the wall and then, as if it was not there, slipped through the wall. Draconas was impressed, he was usually very skilled at detecting hidden places like this and yet he hadn’t noticed it at all. As he walked through the wall it made more sense to him. There was a ripple of cold through his whole body that was the telltale sign of a planar shift. They had walked into a pocket dimension of some kind. Unfortunately, this room didn’t seem to be in much better repair than the rest of the house. Everything was coated in a layer of dust except one path from the entrance to a large blue-white tower shield propped up against an empty glass tube large enough to comfortably contain a person. The only other furnishings in the room were five additional glass tubes, two of which were broken, and a table that probably once contained a rather high quality alchemical laboratory and some research notes, but they were long since removed.

“So this used to be Essex’s laboratory?” Draconas mused.

Yes, it was here that he experimented on my children and transformed them into horrific abominations.

Draconas approached the shield and crouched down to inspect it. It was obviously crafted from a single scale of a great wyrm white dragon, and had draconic runes gently carved around its edges.

May I? Draconas asked.

Of course.

Draconas smiled and picked up the shield. It was enormous. He was unsure how Teek could have ever moved it given the fact that it was larger than the poor little kobold. However, it was deceptively light and cool to the touch. Draconas wasn’t a shield user himself, but he was incredibly curious about the creation and purpose of sentient artifacts.

So, what would you like to know T’lorian?

How did you come to be?

I was once a living dragon, a very old white. Though not as old as you I’d wager. I was sensing that my time was ending and my children were poised to take over the protection and care of the kobolds of the Dragonspine Mountains. So, I offered a scale to each of them, enchanting them with some of my considerable powers.

You hoped to give them enough power to be capable of protecting the kobolds?

Yes. They were created from us thousands of years ago, and we feel a responsibility towards their safety and care. Plus, they do so adore us and shower us with gifts. I like gifts.

Draconas had a brief internal chuckle. Dragons were notorious collectors of all things shiny. However, it wasn’t enough was it?

It would have been, if my children had been wiser. Instead, they became jealous of each other’s scales and began plotting against each other to steal the scales and eventually they even resorted to attacking me in my sleep to steal more of them. Unfortunately, I was enraged upon waking and destroyed them all. However, one of my children was clever and called upon an elven sorcerer named Kai Vek’Caylenn to help them steal my power. As I raged against them, he used dark defiling magics to strip my soul from my body and cast it into one of the scales I’d given my children.

Kai Vek’Caylenn? Seriously. Are you certain? Draconas held the shield further from himself.

Yes, of course. I was already an accomplished psion before my soul was stripped from my body and since then my powers to learn secrets from the minds of men have only grown.

A dragon with true psychic power is rare, you are quite unique.

Indeed, I was trained in the art by one of your kind, your brother I believe.

Dekall? You’ve seen him?

Not in millennia, but yes. I take it you haven’t?

Not since the day I was born. The council told me he had abandoned the T’lorians and was eventually killed while exploring Bhakaras. I never believed it.

You are a wise man then, Draconas. And you were named well I might add.

 I was named after our mother’s favorite of the native species of Bhakaras.

I know.

Draconas could feel Vinterwysp smile.

I’m curious, Draconas, why did you have such interest in the sorcerer Kai?

You mean you don’t know?

Apparently not, please enlighten me. I do so dislike being ill informed.

Kai Vek’Caylenn is the bastard son of my brother Dekall.

That would explain a few things then, especially why they refer to his errant spirit as The Darkestarr.

KAI IS THE DARKESTARR?

Oh yes, you didn’t know? Kai Vek’Caylenn was disembodied thanks to a group of adventurers shortly after he turned me into this. One of my children led them to Kai to avenge my death, and the sorcerer used me to destroy them, but he didn’t realize that wielding me granted me the ability to affect him with my Psionic powers and I subsequently severed his soul from his body.

Draconas gingerly placed Vinterwysp on the table.

Oh, don’t worry; I’d never do such a thing to you. Besides, I don’t think I still have that kind of power anymore.

Better to be safe than sorry.

Too true. Anyway, Much to my surprise, Kai’s soul remained alive in its disembodied state and attempted to destroy me. Fortunately, my child collapsed the cavern and trapped his spirit long enough for him to take me and escape. Since then, I’ve been passed through the hoard of my descendants, content with using my powers to protect them and my kobolds.

However, that bastard Kai had the last laugh. Several hundred years ago he cast a spell upon me that made it impossible for me to be noticed by anyone who didn’t possess true faith in dragonkind. He believed that he could prove that their love of us was superficial and worthless. He would have succeeded as well if it wasn’t for Teek here. His unwavering faith in my line and our power to protect him and his people is what broke the seal and allowed me to return to the world.

So, you have run into Kai again since severing his soul?

Yes, several times actually. Each time he finds a new host he comes and tries to destroy me. It wasn’t until he realized that he didn’t have the power to destroy me that he placed the curse on me instead. Hoping that I’d at least become forgotten over the years.

I never realized that he was the Darkestarr. I always believed it was my brother.

That wouldn’t be possible. There are no circumstances under which your brother could ever wish for the kind of destruction that The Darkestarr seeks.

How do you know that?

Because, he left your people because they wouldn’t allow him to teach the other races of this world about the secrets they knew. He cared deeply for the natural races of this world and wanted to help them grow and join your people in their exploration of the universe and the other planes, at a natural rate of course. However, the T’lorian council ended up rebuking him for his efforts and cast him out of their society. Of course, the damage was done. Those T’lorians that knew of his struggle began mingling with the other races and that is what started the odd form of cultural exploration your people now experience.

Hmm. I never knew that. I wonder why my family never told me.

If I had to guess, I would assume it’s because they didn’t want to lose you like they lost him.

Thank you, Vinterwysp. This has been a most enlightening meeting. Is there anything I can do to help you?

No, my hoard is made of secrets instead of shiny things these days and the revelation that Kai Vek’Caylenn is Dekall’s son is worth all the platinum of Pennoria.

Fair enough, you’ve given me even more in return. Please don’t hesitate to contact me if you need anything.

Draconas dusted himself off and turned to leave the laboratory, but stopped and turned to Teek.

“Thank you for having faith in him, Teek. It may not have yet saved your tribe, but it has given me back a piece of my brother. If I find any of your clan brothers and sisters I’ll send them to you and tell them of your story.”

“Thank you, Draconas.” Teek smiled at Draconas and took out a cloth to begin polishing Vinterwysp.

Draconas smiled back and stepped back through the wall. As he felt the cold chill of dimensional travel pass through him one last thought popped in his mind.

One more thing, I thought you’d like to know that Dekall is still alive…

  

  

Pokewalker Setup Walkthrough

Since my friend asked me for some help setting up her son's Pokewalker the other day I decided to write up the instructions in a fun little blog post.

I'd call this a Discipline Blog post however, it won't have any of the other earmarks of a normal post as I have misplaced my Pokewalker and I'm a bit out of practice.

Anyway, to all the Pokemon enthusiasts out there: Enjoy!

How to setup and use your Pokewalker attachment for Pokémon Heart Gold and Soul Silver:

So, you’ve visited your local game store or gone online and used your hard-earned money to purchase your very own copy of Pokémon: Heart Gold or Soul Silver with Pokewalker, and you are incredibly excited to start walking around in real-life with your favorite Pokémon, gaining experience while catching more Pokémon in the field. Unfortunately, you have no idea how to begin using your Pokewalker.

To begin, you must have advanced far enough into the main story of the game to be able to catch Pokémon. This should not be too difficult, about five to ten minutes of steady game play should get you where you need to be. Once you’ve gained access to poke balls (I also recommend buying some extras from the local Pokemart) start wandering into the tall grass found all around the beginning areas of the game. Spend a little time leveling up and capturing Pokémon. Once you have captured at least one Pokémon, you are nearly ready to begin using your Pokewalker.

Now, you must take a trip to your local Pokémon Center. Once there access the PC located near the lovely young lady at the counter who offers to heal your Pokémon free of charge. When the menu options show, select “Someone’s PC” you are now given several options (Deposit Pokémon, Withdraw Pokémon, Move Pokémon, and Move Items). You may either simply deposit a Pokémon from your team of 2-6 currently travelling with you, or (if you are a more advanced user of the Pokémon storage system) you can use “Move Pokémon” to have more controlled distribution of the Pokémon on your team and in storage. Once you have at least one Pokémon in storage you can begin using your Pokewalker attachment.

Restart your game, when you come to the menu screen (after pressing Start on the title screen) move down through the menu options until you have selected “Connect to Pokewalker”. The on screen directions tell you how to connect the Pokewalker; however, for ease I’ll also explain the process. When prompted, press and hold the large central button on the Pokewalker until the LCD display shows a background and a number (usually 0). Once you can see the LCD image, press the central button again to access the Pokewalker menu (the cursor should default to the CONNECT option but if not you may have to press the left and right buttons to move it to the appropriate menu option).

With CONNECT highlighted, point the Pokewalker at the DS cartridge and press the central button again (depending on how much time you’ve taken to do this the Pokewalker may go into sleep mode again, simply press and hold the central button as before to resume its functioning) . You should see some flashing lights on your DS screen indicating a connection and you will also hear a beep on your Pokewalker attachment (if the sound is on).

Once the connection has been made, you can select the option “Go for a Stroll” which will then allow you to select both a Pokémon from those currently stored in your PC to move to the Pokewalker, and a route to stroll on (you begin only able to use 2 routes but unlock more as you use the Pokewalker. Select your chosen Pokémon and connect again to the Pokewalker. You will hear a chime on the Pokewalker indicating that you have successfully moved a Pokémon over (there will also be an indication on the DS).

When you want to switch Pokémon out of the Pokewalker or unlock new routes (or unload the Pokémon and Items you’ve found on your stroll) simply follow the same connection process and select the option “Return from Stroll”. Upon return all Pokémon and Items found during your stroll with be deposited into your PC (along with the Pokémon you’ve been strolling with) and your bag respectively (you will need to do this periodically as the Pokewalker can only hold 3 Pokémon and 3 Items at a time). You then repeat the above process to go on another stroll either with the same Pokémon as before or with another one currently stored in your PC.

With that you’ve learned how to utilize your Pokewalker attachment. Now get out there, get walking and level up your favorite Pokémon, I personally keep my Gyrados on me at all times!

Discipline Blog Redux #2

Discipline Blog Redux #2

Pokewalker Steps Taken: 11455 (Woo-Hoo! Most in one day since I've started using the thing!)

Running Dungeons and Dragons

Today I’m running a session of Dungeons and Dragons (3.5, homebrew world), so in honor of that occasion, I’ve decided to write a quick piece about the world that the game is taking place in. I may also diverge from the key topic to share some particularly noteworthy gaming moments if I feel so moved.

The World of Bhakaras –

Like many fantasy worlds, Bhakaras is full of medieval weaponry, magical spells, and odd looking races of humanoids and monsters. Unlike many other fantasy worlds, except perhaps some of the worlds found in Final Fantasy style computer games, Bhakaras also has technology (of various kinds and at various levels) available to it. Even that doesn’t make it stand out completely however. Time travel, high technology, steampunk technology and medieval societies all have a place in this world and basically anything is possible.

Current Age of Bhakaras – The Age of Galiria (5735 a.r.c. – Annotated Renaissance Calendar)

Central to the campaign I’m currently running is the nation-state of Galiria. Originally founded as a small feudal city-state in the year 1077 a.r.c. Galiria grew in the aftermath of the fall of Prosempst (Pronounced Pross-M-Pissed). Several small outlying noble settlements and villages all united under the banner of Lord Valys Galerian III and a standing militia was founded in the wake of the influx of Prosemptan refugees. Within a decade, Galiria had officially established its borders (the forest line of Hylar to the north, the Viridian rift to the west, the Kalinost seas to the east and the Blightline to the south).

Galiria’s population consists of Humans (approx 70%), Elves (10% - mostly High Elves), Dwarves (5% - Mostly Hill Dwarves), T’lorians (5% mostly found in the capitol), and about 10% of Monster Races (Goblinoids, Draconic/Kobold, etc. – mostly found in small settlements away from villages, towns and cities).

Although the technology and wealth found in Galiria does vary greatly between the various sized settlements throughout, overall Galiria has a semi-industrial level of technology with a Steampunk Neo-Victorian feel to the architecture, clothing and technological devices. Although natural talent for Magical and Psychic ability is rare among the populace of Galiria, both areas of study are well-known and integrated into the daily lives of many of Galiria’s citizens. Many of the Steampunk devices are fueled using Magical or Psionic power sources, and the Galirian Academy of Scientific Study has departments devoted to the use and construction of Magical and Psionic devices.

The Galirian Academy of Scientific Study also serves as the central hub for all interactions with the T’lorian population in Galiria. The T’lorians (an advanced race from the Kovertan peninsula) came to Galiria shortly after the fall of Prosempst and offered to share some of their knowledge and experience by forming the Academy. In its current incarnation, the Academy has several satellite locations throughout the region and is the central hub for all academic study on the mainland. In addition, it serves as the training ground for nobility, scientists, engineers, sorcerers, psions, and more.

Over more than 4000 years, the Galirian political structures have changed drastically. Originally a feudal city-state ruled by a noble family. When the nation grew, it became a full-fledged monarchy. After nearly 500 years of rule by the Galerian royal house, a military coup occurred and the Royal family was forced into hiding. Until the early 2000’s, Galiria was a police state and all of the citizens of Galiria were forced to serve in the Militia. Finally, the Galirian royal family put together a legitimate resistance movement and for more than one-hundred years the nation fractured into smaller city-states, it was believed that the age of Galiria had passed during this time. However, the Galirian civil-war finally came to an end when the Viridian rift erupted in 2136 spewing out an army of golem-like warriors who began to lay waste to all in their path.

The Darkestarr Family Line –

Dekall Darkestarr, a T’lorian renegade, began traveling throughout Galiria shortly after the eruption. Little is known about the man except that in the years following the eruption he would often arrive in towns being attacked and save them from destruction before disappearing. For more than a decade “The Darkestarr” was considered a legend and little more, a sort of guardian angel. However, in 2145 the elusive and enigmatic T’lorian wed the Galirian princess Serra Galerian. The ceremony was very public (held in the destroyed central square of Old Galiria) and served as a uniting event for the nation. Within less than a year, the Galirian royal family had regained much of its lost power and the Galirian militia was rebuilt. Over the next fifteen years, the T’lorian and the Princess worked to reunite Galiria and re-establish its borders while working to eject the still massing golem armies. In addition, the first known children of a T’lorian/Human pairing began to be born as the Darkestarrs started having children. Despite being the co-ruler of Galiria very little is known about Dekall Darkestarr. However, his family line continues to this day. During Dekall and Serra’s reign Galiria had returned to a sort of Monarchy, however, both agreed that if Galiria was to survive a new system of government had to be formed. As a result, Gailria eventually adopted a system of government that was essentially a representational monarchy and a republic fused into one.

Well, that’s all I have in me for now… there will probably be more World of Bhakaras themed posts done every Thursday (my gaming day) if not more frequently… I’m currently working on the writing out of the actual system of government in Galiria which I may post as well. Anyway, thanks for listening to my ramblings. See you tomorrow!