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Rava the Rogue 1

Rava the Rogue approached the stone table. He could see the scroll setting on the daise. Tattered with age, discolored with time it shone with a soft glow.

He could hear the fighting outside the door, his party was dealing with the dragon and his kobold minions.

“Take that,” he heard Boris the barbarian roar, followed by the sound of breaking furniture and crunching of bones.

Flashes of light under the door showed Wendell the wizard was using his forecasting to good effect.

Turning back to the scroll Olgar studied the area, stepping over the trip stone he extended his hands, contemplating the scene.

Reaching forward he grasped the scroll with both hands and jumped backwards twisting and hiding the scroll in the folds of his robe.

He was just fast enough, hellish rebuke engulfed the stone table. He cast his smoldering cloak off and stomped on it to put the flames out.

Unrolling the scroll he contemplated his wish, he carefully ran the words of his wish through his mind. Twenty three years of searching, fighting, and suffering to get to this point. Soon he would have his desire.

The arcane words on the scroll were written in Celestial. Luckily he had brought his helm of comprehending. With sweaty palms and a trembling voice he spoke the words, invoking the spell.

“I wish to augment my elf heritage and be transformed into a deus deificus.”

He felt the spell set, the conditions were met.

But nothing happened. He was unchanged.

The fighting in the corridor ceased and the door opened. He smiled in relief as all members of his party entered the chamber.

Before he could tell them that the spell failed a rumbling filled the chamber. A light flashed and three primordials stood before them.

They held up a chalice filled with a clear liquid. It flashed red.

“Which of you made the wish,” they intoned together.

Feeling trepidation but not wanting to back down infront of his party he stepped forward.

“I made the wish,” he said, “But if failed.”

He clenched his jaw in frustration as he heard his party start muttering behind him. They had been through a lot to complete this quest and he hated failing them.

“The spell did not fail,” the primordial in the center said.

“You are now one of the gods,” the one on the right said.

“You have no worshippers,” said the one on the left.

“No worshipers no powers,” they said together. “Now prepare to be nullified.”

They started chanting in unison, Rava felt his skin burning.

Wish a shout Wendell the Wizard cast teleport. The look of surprise on the Primordials faces as they vanished was worth the pain.

Reappearing in the Wizard’s tower Wendell walked over to the wall and pressed a sigil.

“There, they wont be tracking us here.”

“So what do we do now,” Biltram the bard asked.

“You become worshipers.” Rava said to his party.

“Now wait a minute,” Polaris the Paladin said, “I already serve Paladine.”

“I will be an easy god to serve,” Rava said impatiently, “Put a coin on my altar and it will be done.” He cleared off a stone bench and waited expectantly.

One by one the party members walked forward, placing a small coin on the bench.

With each coin Rava felt his power grow. Not a lot. Barely any at all. But he could feel the difference.

When all but Polaris had placed a coin he turned to them and smiled.

He didnt have access to all his powers but he could feel them starting to fill.

“I think I need some missionaries,” he said, “I deputize all of you as my priests. Would you prefer to be paladins or clerics?”

After the ceremony of dedication Rava sent his followers out to spread his name to the masses. Soon he would take his rightful place in the pantheons. Maybe he would start his own Pantheon.

Turning to Polaris he said, “Ready for the next adventure.”

“I still havent decided if I should smite you or not.”

“Well follow me and protect me until you figure it out.”

They stepped out of the wizard’s tower and started walking towards the nearest elf village

Biltram the Bard 1

Biltram the Bard stomped down the roadway, glad to be stretching his dwarf legs after the battle. That had been a real hinnyduckner. He checked his belt, his hand axe and dagger were still there right where they should be.

He was glad to be on his way, these boots were made for walking and he had been tied up with that party for too long. It cramped his style. He pulled his flute out of his pack and started playing it as he went down the road. Not playing music really, just playing his soul.
That’s how he liked to think of music, as displaying his soul to the world. The sun shone brighter as he played, the birds sang louder. The world opened up in a cacophony of delight. That was how it always was, good delighted in his song and evil became belligerent.

Rounding a bend he was suddenly assaulted by a putrid smell. He gagged and the music stopped.

Now that the music was stopped he could hear the sound of shouting coming from the woods. None of my business, he though as he kept walking down the road, as likely someone who deserves it as someone who needs help.

He made it another twenty feet before he stopped cursing himself.

“I could go look,” he said grudgingly, “make sure they are alright.”

Casting a minor illusion, a bush, he walked through the forest unseen from the depths of the illusionary plant. Coming to a clearing he saw a group of teenagers surrounded by three manes demons. The manes demons were cackling

“The demon lord will like this group.” one said, “They have spirit.”

The group of ten or so teenagers were brandishing makeshift weapons, pitchforks, clubs, one even had a table leg.

“Well they aren’t innocent,” Biltram said, “I hate manes demons.”

Shaking off his pack he hid it in a nearby bush. He pulled his bagpipes out and threw them over his shoulder. Taking a deep breath he began to battle.

He knew he couldn’t take them on himself, they were too advanced for him. He blew into the pipes, creating a magic command to the teenagers to rush over and join him. At the same time he created an illusion of a chasm erupting at the nearest manes demon’s feet.

The manes demon dove to the side trying to avoid falling into the imaginary depths. The teens took the opportunity to run towards the dwarf. Prepping another spell he cast heroism. As the teens reached him he touched each teen as they surrounded him giving them a surge of bravery and a bit of healing.

“Ok, ya rascals,” Biltramcalled to the teens, “We are in a rough spot no doubt about it. But if we work together we can vanquish these blighters and save ourselves.”

There was no more time to talk, the manes demons were almost on top of them.

“Weapons up,” he called as he prepared more magic. Pulling a vial from his pocket he cast it in the air as he gave a blast on his bagpipe. The field in front of them transformed, a giant maze grew up around them. There was only way for the manes demons to get to them now and a strong wind blew down that corridor, the manes demons struggled to walk. They folded their wings against their backs to lessen the drag.

He cast the bagpipes to the side and pulled his hand axe from his belt. Time to get messy!

The first manes demon was exiting the illusion as Biltram launched himself forward. The fighting fell into chaos, the manes demons finding their way out of the maze.

A proper party, Biltramthought, would have blocked the corridor so they couldn’t escape.

“Fight,” he roared as he swung his hand axe at the man-sized manes demon before him. While normally smaller in stature these three were huge.

A rage took Biltramas he fought, he hated fiends. His axe took on a low glow as he fought.

“Ha,” he shouted with glee, “A paladin I am. Didn’t know old Rava had this kind of juice.”

The manes demons scattered before his approach, Biltramfell into the battle song of his people. He put all of his soul into the song. After a few moments of fighting the manes demons lay before him, dead.

The teens were all alive too, though all of them sported wounds of different kinds. Several had taken lashes from the manes demon’s tail, he could see the poisons working through them.

Picking up his flute he cast healing over the group.

“So who can tell me what happened here?”

One of the boys walked over to him, “We belong to the village of Tiem, or at least we did. A demon lord brought his army against us and took everyone. He left us for these three to play with, there were many more of us. Thank you for helping us.”

“Don’t mention it. What are you going to do now?”

A young girl started crying at his words. Biltram hated it when they did that.

“We don’t have anywhere,” the boy said, “They took everyone we knew.”

“Well,” Biltram said, looking uncomfortable, “Let’s go look at your village and see what we can find.”

They found their way through the woods to a destroyed village. They picked through the wreckage, finding a bit of food, some better weapons, and in the general store a lockbox of gold.

They took all of this and threw it over the back of a pair of donkeys wandering in a nearby field.

“Where are you headed,” the teenager asked, “What brought you to this place.”

“Headed out,” Biltram said, “I don’t like to let too much dirt collect to my shoes. The wandering life for me. My last contract is done and I am out.”

He paused thinking, “Actually I don’t think I am out. A god sent me out to grow his support.”

“Well, which god?” This was from a dark haired teenage girl of about thirteen.

“Rava,” Biltram said, “He demands one coin placed on a bench as devotion.”

The teenagers reached into their pockets and placed their coin on a nearby bench. They glowed brightly and disappeared. The teenagers gasped.

“Well, I guess your my responsibility now.” Biltram growled, “pack up, we head out in half an hour. Don’t want to be here if any of those demons come back to see what happened to heir comrades.”

Half an hour later the teens had hitched an undamaged wagon to the donkeys and loaded it with all the useful things they could find. They ate their lunch on the road, dried pork and an apple apiece.

Now what? Biltram thought as they walked, All I want is to travel and meet new people. I never signed up for this.

To go to the first episode click here.

Rava the Rogue 1

Boris the Barbarian by Ryan VandePanne

Boris marched through the winding trees, up before the sun first rose. He had not slept well the night before, he had too much thinking to do.

His thoughts came slowly though and thus he had been slow to go to sleep.
Boris had dedicated his life to Agnar, the barbarian god of war. Strength of arm. Loyalty. Independence. These were the attributes he built his life on.
Caught up in the moment he had pledged himself to Rava, the rogue who had hired him as muscle in his quest to find a scroll of power.

Caught up in the moment Boris had dropped his coin on the table, pledging himself to this new god.

Now Boris was caught between two god’s and he could not see a way out of it. To break troth with Rava would alienate Agnar who prized loyalty and staying true to ones word.

Boris could abandon Agnar, but that would leave him no better than the weaklings that surrounded him.

He knew Rava wanted him to go to the barbarians to convert them, but he coulent bring himself to do it. They would know, Boris didnt think he could face the shame.

Hungry, but not wanting to stop to hunt Boris kept an eye out for an inn to buy a meal.

Rounding a corner a young man barreled around a corner, a glowing hot sword clutched in his grip. Boris knocked the sword out and away from his body. It flew out of the boy’s hands and landed upright in the road.

The boy bounced off of Boris and landed in a pile infront of him. Boris hesitated for a moment, not sure if this had been an assassination attempt or simply a fool being clumsy.

When the boy didnt seem to offer anymore fight Boris held his hand out to help the boy up.

“Nice sword,” he said, “did you borrow it from your sister?”

He yanked the boy to his feet, steadying him with a hand under his arm.

The boy was bleeding from the mouth, he saw an empty hole where a tooth had been. On the otherside he saw a tusk sticking out. Understanding filled him. This was a ork. Or atleast a half ork. He seemed a little small for a full ork.

“My name is Boris,” he said.

“Hanz,” the half orc replied.

“Where are you going in such a rush?”

Hanz looked away for a second, and then said, “Home.”

Boris thought he was being evasive so he pressed the point.

“Then where did you get that sword?”

“I found it.”

Snorting Boris raised an eye questioning. Hanz held his stare for a few seconds before glancing away.
“I found it in the blacksmith’s shop. He tried to kill me and I took it to escape.”

“Did you kill him?”

“No.”

“Why was he trying to kill you?”

“He caught me trying to remove my tusks, he must have misunderstood what I was doing.”

“Hmph. Well lets go return it.”

Hanz darted as far away as he could, Boris had a firm hold on his hand.

“They will kill me. I am a half ork. They wont even think twice about it.”

“Not with me around they wont.”

Reaching over and picking up the now cooled sword Boris started walking into town, dragging Hanz behind him.
He could have let the boy go and returned the sword himself but it would be better for the boy in the long run if he did it himself.

After a few yards the boy quit struggling and Boris let go of his hand. They continued on into the village, Hanz scuffing his feet and looking around uneasily.

Boris marched through the streets and stopped infront of the smith, checking to make sure Hanz was still with him he rapped loudly on the door.

A burly man answered the door, his clothes disheveled and sporting a cauterized cut on his neck.

“What do you want,” the man said before spotting Hanz.

“To return your sword,” Boris said, “And to make amends for anything the boy has done.”

“He broke into my shop and attacked me,” the man said, “And then stole my sword.”

“I didnt attack you,” Hanz said, “I just wanted to use your pliers.”

“Well you cant,” the man said, “Orks are not welcome here.”

“What is your name sir?” Boris asked, tired of being ignored.

“Thad,” the blacksmith replied, “What makes you think we want your kind around here either?”

Thad reached out and grabbed the sword turning and slamming the door in their faces.

“Well thats that,” Boris said, “I am going to the inn to have a meal. You can join me if you like.”

After a brief breakfast of stew and fresh bread they exited the inn.

As soon as they were out in the early morning light they heard screaming coming from near the blacksmith’s shop. Turning they saw a group of people running away, pursued by a mob of skeletons.

Yanking the warhammer from his back he charged letting out a cry of rage.

He felt the rage take hold of him, his muscles tensed up and his senses dimmed. Bowling into the monsters he struck left and right, decimating their ranks. With each hit his warhammer glowed dully, he wondered briefly at that but pushed it aside for later.

To his left he saw Hanz pick up a sword from one of the skeletons. He raced into battle beside Boris, carving a way through the skeleton ranks.

As they neared the smithy they saw Thad surrounded by skeletons and a man dressed in black robes. In his hand he carried a staff with a black crystal. The crystal gave off a black glow that seemed to suck the light from the room.

Boris charged the group of skeletons, sending them back to their rest. Nothing was so evil as a necromancer, Boris thought, time to end this.

“Hey ugly,” he called, swiinging his warhammer at the necromancer.

Caught off guard the necromancer raised his staff to protect himself. Boris smashed the crystal, the skeletons fell to the ground once again fully dead.

Boris pressed the fight, he knew better than to allow the necromancer space to perform magic.

The necromancer jumped back and uttered a spell, Boris felt a hand clamp down on his right forearm. Cold seeped into his arm, a ghostly hand gripped him tightly.

Throwing the great hammer aside Boris pulled his dirk from his waist with his left hand. He lunged forward but was stopped by another ghostly hand and then another. Soon Boris was bound to the floor with the weight of the undead.

“Foolish mortal,” the necromancer said, “How dare you strike me.”

He held up his hands to cast another, greater spell. He never saw Hanz coming.

As soon as the necromancer was dead the apparitions departed allowing Hanz to get to his feet.

Climbing slowly to his feet he looked around, everything was quiet.

“What did they want,” Boris asked turning to Thad.

“The sword,” Thad said, “Making it for the princess Maynara.”

“Hmm, you had better get it to her.”

“I was just finishing it up.”

Boris saw that they grip, which before had been empty, were now inlaid with ivory. Precious gems were inlaid within the ivory itself. They gave off a slight glow.

“Wizard Tellmus made those gems,” Thad said, “Not sure what they do. Cant wait to get them out of my shop. Hey, would you mind doing me another favor?”

“I think I already have.”
“Yes yes, another one. Take this to the princess. The longer it is here the more likely it is to be stolen.”

“On one condition.”

“What is that?”

“I came here to tell of a new god. Rava, convert and let me tell you about him and I will take it.”

Boris spent the next two days explaining Rava to the town. Well he spent two minutes telling them to place a single copper coin on the alter, and then a couple of days explaining how to follow Agnar. Just under a different name. He hoped neither god minded.

When he left he took Hanz with him, when this whole sword business was done he planned on making a trip into the wilds to find the ork tribes. That would be a good place to start.

Hanz the half orc by Joseph Stücken @j035t4r (instagram)

Bang, Bang, Bang! Bang! Bang! Plugging his ears to shield himself from the noise, Hanz could still hear the banging echo thru his chest shaking him and vibrating his very bones.

The beat was the same intensity as his heartbeat, as he lay waiting outside of the blacksmith shop. He was in need of a tool, that he would, “Borrow” and give back after use.

He was going to be using the tongs for a surgical extraction. A cosmetic dental procedure he was going to be operating on himself. As the hammer sparks stopped thru the crack in the wooden workshop door he unplugged his ears to hear the sound of steam… Shhrereeeeeeeessssssss….. The steel sword had been forged and the blacksmith Thad had left it to cool on the anvil after giving it a cold water bath. He took off his apron and headed to the front of his shoppe.

The banging had stopped but his heartbeat was still strong in his veins. In preparation to steal, his conscience ripped at his soul, warning him against this action. Now is the time to strike!

Hanz Burdick was a half-orc peasant. He was raised by his single human mother, Taphne. Growing up his mother tried to hide his true heritage from the world. She feared the fearful hearts of men, even though it had been 2 generations since the last Great Orc War. She did not want her son to pay for the sins of his family. As the saying goes, “‘The parents eat sour grapes, and the children’s teeth are set on edge’?”, her son’s underbite tusks were beginning to grow in again. They fell out ever few years by themselves, and she traded them to the local tooth fairy for a great price. Now that he was a young adult, he regularly filed them down, but he had decided he was going to remove them for good.

He slipped in the backdoor of the shed and tiptoed up to the workbench. He grabbed the wooden handle of the blacksmith’s tongs, opening his mouth wide and he grabbed onto his right tusk. Pulling with all his orc strength, he couldn’t get the tooth to budge. He gripped the handles tighter and twisted! Instead of coming out… The tooth cracked open, exposing the nerve! “ROOOOOOARRR OWWW!!” He yelled falling backwards onto the floor.

He was made. Thad burst thru the swinging door and yelled, “Intruder! Raise the alarm!”

As he passed the bellows, he stumbled over Hanz still on the floor in pain. The two wrestled for a while turning over and punching and jabbing. After a minute Thad had Hanz in headlock as he got to his knee and then onto one foot.

He yelled, “What are you doing in my workshop?”

Hanz tried to explain himself.. but the words weren’t coming through clearly as he was being choked. What could he do? He began reaching out for a weapon or something to defend himself with and get this large slug of a man off him. He could see the tongs he used earlier on the ground next to him. Reaching… reaching but still too far. He felt the wind leaving his body. He was about to pass out. He had to think.. The Sword!

He kicked backward toward the anvil and heard the sword steel pinging iron on iron. He tried to turn around whilst still in the headlock!

“STOP That! You’ll wreck my shop.” the blacksmith yelled squeezing tighter.

It was then that Hanz saw the sword still glowing red hot from the furnace. Finally turned around he extended his arm out . He couldn’t reach it. The world was starting to turn black.

All this he thought, “For a Tooth” then he had an epiphany! He bit down so hard on the blacksmiths forearm with his orc teeth that Thad let out a scream!

“You dirty bugger! Who taught you how to fight!” As he looked down at the boy now, he could see the orange glow of the sword he had been making for the royal court. The Cyclone Wind of Mynara he had just finished for the princess and it was pointing right at his throat. Then hot metal singed his beard and the smell of burnt hair filled the air.

“All I wanted was a dental checkup” Hanz roared in confusion, “I meanI wanted my teeth removed.”

“Whaaat?”

They both looked at Thad’s arm as it began dripping blood. His cracked Orc tusk was sticking out of his forearm.

“Looks like I got my wish…. And a new sword too. Thanks”

He slowly circled towards the backdoor and opened it with his foot with the sword still pointing at the blacksmith. He opened the door and ran as fast his feet could take him!

“Dirty… orks!” He heard bellowing from the shoppe as he fled down the road out of town.

Faster FASTER! He had to go. Anywhere but here. He ran.

Running with shears is not a wise decision. Running with a molten hot rapier is just plain foolish. He tried to keep the weight of the sword in front of him as he ran. But the heat of the blade was beginning to reach the handle. The sword grip was unfinished & was squared off in places where ivory or jewels would have been laid. It had a hilt though.

He began to transfer the sword back and forth between each hand as the heat was beginning to burn him. As the sword danced in front of him the tip still glowing, he thought it would be very bad if this touched his face.

Just then he ran into something on the road. He was so focused on not dropping the sword that he forgot to look ahead in the dark. The sword flew out of the hands & toppled end over end in the air. It landed a few yards away strangely upright sticking into a fallen log. He hadn’t noticed before but, the undecorated hilt did have one accessory. A crystal orb on the very bottom. It had a kaleidoscope of swirling colors within.

He could see Reddish-Orange sunsets mixed with royal deep purple amethyst swirling together from the unexpected impact.

“Nice Snow-Globe kid. Is that a toy sword?” A large fellow stood over him with a hand extended. Hanz reached up to take his hand, which he did but another arm came under the armpit. With little effort the barbarian pulled him up & placed on his feet.

“The name’s Boris. Pleased to meet you.”

“My name is Hanz.

New Webpage

Here is my new webpage!

Cadence Writing

Eunice and the Ice Tiger

Watching carefully for movement, ten year old Eunice slipped forward disappearing into the shrubs surrounding the building. Listening carefully at the door he pushed it open and darted in, closing it softly behind himself. He stood up slowly, watching for the extractors.

They normally did not work this early, coming well after sunrise, but Eunice couldn’t be too careful.

He worked his way to the back of the building, skirting the cages full of depleted elementals. He paused beside the cage of an ice tiger, it tried to lift its head to look at him but didn’t have the strength. Eunice paused, wishing he could help, but once depleted they never regained their magical abilities.

Hurrying now, he could hear the town waking behind him, he arrived at the back of the building. Rows upon rows of magic amulets sat in the near darkness, each one stamped with the ability and the creature it came from.

Which amulet to take. He couldn’t take too many, or the extractors would notice. He couldn’t take anything too powerful either. A fire rat amulet might get him 5 solari on the market. While a earth boar would bring him up to seventy.

A mewing sound behind Eunice caused him to pause. Looking down he saw a tiny ice tiger cub in a cage. It mewed at him again, clawing at the cage. It did not look as weak as the others. It sneezed and an ice cloud shot out and froze the edge of Eunices pant leg.

Crouching down Eunice looked the cub over. He wished he could free it but then he wouldn’t be able to come back here. Eunice had his route, and every couple of months he would be back here, slipping another amulet. If he helped the cub he would doom himself.

Standing up he grabbed a earth boar amulet off the shelf and headed towards the door. The Ice Tiger chuffed at him as he passed, looking miserable. Eunice stared into its eyes for a moment, guilt creeping up on him.

“I cant,” he told the tiger, “it is me or him.”

The tiger held his gaze, Eunice squirmed.

“They will track me down anyways, they have the best trackers. Its how they caught you. What would I even do with him if I did take him?”

The tiger moaned as it lay its head back down, keeping eye contact with one eye.

“I cant believe I am doing this.” Eunice asid out loud heading towards the back.

He grabbed a few handfuls of amulets off the back table, since he couldn’t be back he might as well get some of the good ones, and opened the ice tiger cub’s cage. He reached in, pulling it out and stuffing it into a pocket inside of his shirt. It curled up and began to purr.

Opening the front door slowly he looked around. He saw the extractors walking slowly up the street. He froze watching them.

A commotion on the otherside of town caught the extractors attention, Eunice darted out of the door, and into the bushes.

He reached into his bag and pulled out a fire amulet, time to put some speed on.

With the fire magic flowing through his veins he sprinted into the mountains surrounding the valley.

He hoped he would be fast enough.

I am back

Hello faithful readers!

It has been far too long since I posted on this page. I have been, for lack of a better term, preoccupied for that last ten months.

For most of last year, I suffered from fairly debilitating migraines on a nearly daily basis. It got so bad that I forsook writing all together.

Around September of this year I started to go to a chiropractor and he has virtually eliminated my migraines.

I am now feeling confident enough in my recovery to start writing again.

Additionally I have been working on a new website, I will be trying to migrate everything over there soon.

Constance E2

Terrance woke early and exited his sleeping tent, they had been here for several months now and life had started taking on a familiar routine. Wake, eat, work, sleep. Life would not always be like this but for now, they had no choice but to work hard. They worked to build houses, cultivate fields, and send out patrols to wait for the return of the emperor’s soldiers.
They were making headway, but the list of things to do never only grew longer. Their meat supply had dwindled down to almost nothing and they needed to send out hunting parties to the North where an expansive forest provided most of their game. They also needed to dig cisterns for the dry season. Not to mention keeping the peace between his people and Constance.

For all of his positive qualities, he did have a few faults. For one Constance had been working this mountain for years and did not find stepping back to let the empowered do their work easy.
He always wanted to direct and manage the work, but they resensted being directed on their own land. Not that they owned the valley but after working so hard night and day the land started to feel like they should be granted more freedom on some of the work they needed to do.

Terrance saw Constance walk by scowling and decided to join him.

“Good morning friend Constance, do you mind if I walk with you?”

Constance slowed and glanced back to see who hailed him. Seeing Terrance he gave an awkward smile and nodded.

“Are you ready to tell me what magic you contain”, asked Constance “you have lived here a few months now, you can trust me. Others would say you are magicless, but you are not. You are one of those few souls who are able to influence people. You hold this ragtag group together as if they were family even though they are all from different places and different customs.”

Terrance laughed, “Nothing like that, I do understand people and they do seem to fit together better after I work with them but the emperor tested me and I am one of the magicless”

Constance scoffed but didn’t say anything more on the subject.

Terrance watchedConstance as he walked. Something was unusual about him, energy and passion that eclipsed anything he had ever seen in another man. Hidden within though a despondency and a grimness lived that contradicted his energy and passion. People are never simple, s different temperaments and desires always battle each other within each person he met. This man is different, however; he was far more and much less than any man he knew.

The way he used his magic was different. Some people fed their bodies to make them stronger or faster or make their skin impervious to harm or resilient enough to survive extreme falls. Some people manipulated the elements, they could cause a wind to blow harder or softer for instance.
He once met a man who changed one liquid into another or cause a fireball to appear from nowhere. But someone who both fed his body and manipulated the elements, this was something new and different. Terrance did not understand how Constance did these things; the implications were troubling, especially in someone who was so at war within himself.
His sudden bouts of anger were also alarming. True he had never once used his power against anyone in his valley, but Terrance was always waiting for that slip.

“Where do you come from, sir.” He asked as they walked hoping to tease out more of his story, “did you grow up in these mountains, or are you a stranger here like us.”

Terrance was amazed as something more than annoyance but less than anger rose up in Constance. What had he done to anger him? As fast as the temperament rose, however, the mood was replaced with a kind of ironic mirth.

“I came from far away at a time when I was not fit company to be around others. Finding these empty places, I decided to stay, thinking I deserved nothing more. I sat in misery for a long time allowing my self-deprecation to gnaw away at myself. I found food when hungry, drew water from the ground when thirsty. In time this place soothed my spirit and challenged me with its hostility. I took the challenge, not only surviving but changing my valley into an oasis of life. Unfortunately for the valley, but fortunately for me, I am unable to permanently change the environment. Each day I work to keep life in a place of death. Once I die the valley will revert to what it was before I arrived. This place is my life’s work, bringing forth life where only death dwelt before.”

Terrance was getting used to Constance’s long diatribes which said a lot without saying anything.

“Where did you come from then, a man who will rush to help people who he never met and do so to such effect must be a formidable person where he comes from. Do your people not miss you?”

Terrance waited as Constance considered his words for a moment, indecision and reluctance marking him as clearly as had the anger and mirth a moment before.

“My past is mine. Though I have accepted my past I am not ready to relate my story to others yet. Forgive me, I do not mean to be rude but some things in my past are not ready to see the light of day.”

Terrance was shocked as shame and despair rose up in Constance, he had never seen anyone with so much shame before. But none of this showed on his face. To anyone passing by he appeared to be considering the field to their right, neither happy nor unhappy. But within he was a maelstrom of emotions fighting against each other.

As suddenly as the emotions arose, they vanished replaced with chagrin.

“For now let’s say I come from a place far from here and I trained for war using both of my powers. While working for my king I did things I am not proud of and in the end, I failed my king and fled in shame. I know you worry about me, that I will lose control and hurt one of your people but in time you will come to see I would not hurt anyone if possible and the only reason I use my powers offensively is to help and protect those who are weaker than their opponents.”

Terrance looked startled at Constance, “what do you mean both of your powers. People only have one and not everyone has any magic. How were you born with two? Or did they give you this second power somehow?”

He stopped and faced Constance, “Could one like me be given magic?”

Constance laughed good-naturedly, “Magic flows through your veins Terrance, I have seen your magic working the whole time you have been here. You smooth fights and unify your people. Every time I get a good head of steam to teach one of these Empowered to not just cut a ditch straight down my mountain instead of having the drainage follow the natural flow of nature you come along and calm me down and that is not an easy task.”

“Besides everyone has magic, indeed everyone has two kinds of magic. But what most people don’t know is every type of magic has a variety of different sources that can be drawn upon to power it. Take Kemuel for instance, when he empowers, he looks at the problem and thinks about what he has done or seen done before, and then he is able to empower. Cory however grabs on to the power and forces the magic to work through pure stubbornness. They may be doing the exact same thing but they each draw their magic from a different power source.”

Turning towards him Constance smiled broadly and said, “I’ll show you.

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Temporal Incursion 617 E5

“The window is opening.”

Corrie grunted in acknowledgment. Stretching leisurely he stood up and surveyed the area. They had packed the camp up at dawn; the clock had been ticking down all week. Finally, they were about to move on from this hellhole. He pulled the inhibitor out of the ground and stuffed the device into one of the bags.

“She is still alive; scanners are showing her moving through the countryside.”

Corrie turned suddenly facing Elsha, “How is the Rex?” He turned away as he spoke, pulling one of the packs onto his back and cinching the ties up.

“She is doing well, still on the girl’s heels.” She surveyed the pad, finding the best route to the portal opening.

“Amazing she has lasted this long.”

“Not for much longer, do you have the Renovator ready?”

“Yes, but we have bigger problems. The Renovator only has a few charges left. Might only have enough for the Rex, much less for the the beast and the girl.”

“So we bring her back, renovate her there.”

Corrie stopped and glared at his new partner, how long had she been one of the timeless? She knew so much but at times like these, she showed her complete lack of understanding.

“Refugee law, we take her back she is bound to the blade.”

“Would that be so bad?” Elsha asked as she pushed her way through the bushes. “We could use some more people to contain the breaches. She is resourceful, we need more people like her.”

“The agency does need more people, but we don’t know how adding more would affect the ripples. The renovator stills the timeline, but all of us stuck outside of time excites the ripples more. Some days I wonder if we should turn the renovators on the city itself. Maybe the timeline would correct itself.”

“Or without us there get infinitely worse.”

“Yeah, there is that.”

“The jump point is through these trees, time to go.”

She tripped the signal and a portal opened in front of them. The world rippled around them, they were still too close to the last incursion. Before he had the chance to yell for her to stop, Elsha had leapt through the hole in space and time. She was carrying the bag with the spare portaler too. Cursing under his breath he jumped through.

The thing was still chasing her. She hurried through the bushes, skirting fields, and jumping ditches. The thing was getting closer, she heard the branches breaking as the giant lizard followed her scent. She watched out of the corner of her eye as the creature’s scaly head poked out of the trees on the other side of a ravine, watching her.

She prayed the ditch would be too deep to cross and turned away, sprinting into the bushes. The creature roared, jumping into the ravine and racing up the other side.

Avery was already well into the woods, grateful for once that her mother had forced her to participate in track and soccer. The beast was fast, but couldn’t keep up with her over longer distances. If the creature had caught her on a flat field she would have been done for.

The attacks were getting more predictable, the creature would have to rest after that last sprint then would follow her scent. In four or five hours the beast would catch up again, and she would have to flee. Passing an expansive lake she stood at the side considering. Water scatters smells, right? She thought, it probably can’t swim, I should swim across. At least the swim would give me some breathing room, give me time to take more than an hour or two nap.

Walking up to the water’s edge she stared into the mirror-like surface, she barely recognized her reflection. Her bright red hair was matted and dull. Her face was burnt almost to the color of her hair. The stupid pink sundress was ripped and torn. If this kept up the dress was liable to wear right off of her. Her skin was covered in mud and dust.

Something rumbled in the trees, snapping Avery out of her daze. A shimmer appeared, she scooted back. The ripple followed her forcing her towards the water’s edge. She turned and dove in, swimming hard. She skimmed the water, racing the waves to the other shore. The water rippled in weird ways as she crossed. She glimpsed giant shadows diving in the waters beneath her.

She clambered out on the other side, exhausted. She sat down on the water’s edge trying to catch her breath. Something burst out of the water; teeth, and claws clambering at her. Avery kicked out, pushing herself off of the creature’s face as it bit at her.

She screamed as the creature heaved, throwing her across the beach and into the bushes. The beast roared, pulling itself out of the water. Advancing on where she lay stunned by the fall, the creature let out another roar. A resounding roar floated out from across the water, the water monster stopped, looking around. Sniffing at the air the creature seemed unsure of itself, it lunged back into the water.

Avery turned and ran into the woods, what have I done to deserve this she thought.

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No post today

For those of you who eagerly await my Wednesday night post, I am going to have to disappoint you tonight. I have been preparing for my upcoming trip to Togo and was so preoccupied that I forgot to get anything ready for tonight.

Do not fear or despair, I will finish the next episode of Temporal Incursion and get it posted by tomorrow.