DM-Rocco
Explorer
Hello all,
This is my third run at a story hour and I think this one will turn out a bit better and more frequently updated. I have a few fun character types I wanted to write about, so I am aching to keep things current.
The main character is a Half-nymph named Viola. I won't give out stats and such until later in the story. I like people to get their own opinions first. However, as a half-nymph, you should be able to guess at some of them and she is powerful enough to survive solo, at least, mostly. There are a few other NPCs who will make an appearance as well. Characters I designed and always wanted to play, but never got the chance.
This story post and the next story post will give you some back ground for Viola. The third story post should start the adventure path: There is no Honor, from Dungeon #139, following the Savage Tide adventure path.
I love feed back and I don't mind answering questions, so feel free to leave it or ask it. If anything, it encourages me to update quicker when I get feedback, because then I know people are reading what I write.
Also, in my last story hour, I had a friend named Jessica Babcock who edited my grammar, the stuff I missed; and I missed a lot more than I thought. Sadly, she informed me that, while she liked the characters and stories I wrote about, she really could not connect with the fantasy genre. Needless to say, she won't be helping me on this project. I love technical feedback as well. However, I prefer if you PM me with anything you might catch as far as typos, spelling or grammer. It helps preserve the illusion that I know what I am doing
As far as when I will be updating, that depends. They will be a bit slow at first because I have to finish remodeling the basement so I can refi the house, it is a long story. I will have some time to write inbetween waiting for contractors to finish, but until then, updates will be in spare time. Once the basement is finished, I hope to have updates a few times a week. I am hoping to be finished with construction by mid November.
I think that covers everything, so here we go.
Oh, is there a way to preserve double spacing in paragraphs? Or is the following suitable for you guys to read?
Aniphastus watched the lithe silhouette of the woman with an intent eye. He knew where she was, even when he lost visual contact with her. His gift could detect her, he knew she was there. She bent low, his vision lost her as she crossed in front of a twisted tree. He followed her movement with his gift and regained the slightest bit of eye contact when her copper hair reflected in the lunar light. She was close, and he knew where she was.
A gentle breeze picked up and he nervously looked to make sure he was still alone. A wisp of dirt, could it be, he thought to himself. He pushed doubt to the back of his mind. He could detect it if it was anything but the wind. He was letting his own imagination get the best of him; and people thought that elves didn’t have imaginations, he thought bitterly to himself.
She turned her head, as if straining to hear, as he engaged his vision to the task at hand. Two long horns protruded from the silhouette of her shapely outline. It made her appear as a menacing demon from the neither world. Menacing that is, if he didn’t know that they were not horns. He knew what they were. Her long swept-back ears shown like horns in the pale blue moon light. His heart raced as he looked with longing upon her smooth skin. She wore no clothes, he knew that too. Her outline was too smooth and flawless for clothes to mare her flesh. Staring at her and nothing all at once, he caught himself day-dreaming. When he looked to her again, she slowly turned her eyes upon him, as if staring through is soul. In an instant, she dissolved into the shadows and was gone.
A cold shiver gripped him, again, he thought he was not alone. He panicked.
He could not see her and his gift failed. His magic, his birthright, gone. Aniphastus Knowlern, head of Knowlern Manor, benefactor and originator of the Standing Stone Park and friend of nature was completely blind. Five hundred years of life and for the first time, he was at a loss.
His mind raced.
He twisted his head in quick owl like movements. He scanned his immediate surroundings. He saw nothing. Then, the hairs on the back of his neck stood straight up as a chill ran down his spine. Slowly he turned his head to where he had just looked. To where, just a minute ago, nothing but thick overgrown forest stood in solitude. Whatever he expected to see would not see him if he made no sound. That was his desperate hope.
Too late, she was there; she had seen him.
The deep sensuous curves of her silhouette made his heart race. As an elf he was familiar with the charms of fey creatures, the allure of those blessed with nature’s treasures, but his heart always raced to see her. Mere words were never enough to describe her, but people always tried. Captivating, alluring, beautiful, exotic and dangerous were just a few of the emotions she inspired, but they never did her justice. Her long lean figure, hard muscles over soft curves, gave her both a look of exquisite grace and powerful danger rolled up in a neat carefree package. Long copper hair flowed down past the perfect posture of her lower back, over her curvaceous buttock and ended half way to her knees. He tried to reach into his gift, his birthright, only to stumble over his thoughts and feet all at once. He stared up at her from a prone position on his back. The moonlight caught the glint in her large amber eyes. No, not her eyes, her soul, laid bare for the world to see. Those eyes were a window into her inner beauty. To that, her natural good looks failed to compare.
She had beauty undefined, and she knew it; and yet didn’t. She held herself as one whom knew that the barest glimpse of her drove others wild with unabashed desire; yet, she was almost ignorant of that very fact. While she had such beauty that made men weep and women fill with rage in jealously, her carefree simplistic attitude towards others and gentle nature made her seem plain to the point of beauty.
She was much like other elves he had know, but far surpassing in grace and eloquence. She took a step towards him, her flawless unclothed skin made him sit upright and take notice as a gentle teasing breeze aroused his senses. It was the way she moved and did nothing at all. The way her powerful muscles moved under soft perfect skin. The way her perfect posture made her both menacing and alluring at the same time. The way her hard nipples made her breast seem more firm than they were. The way the long narrow diamond triangle of moon light cracked through her legs when she walked.
He felt weak.
He again fumbled for his spell pouch. He tried again to recall the arcane power flowing through his veins. He failed to remember a single bit of his studies. She leaned in, the moon showing her full in its bathing light. A glint in her amber eye revealed her power and his weakness. For all his might and all his knowledge, he was only a man; and a man has needs. He could control such hot need. He was above such things; or was he? Was he not a man? Did he not deserve a release?
She leaned in closer, her hot sweet breathe sending tremors through his body. He could not move, yet part of him did, a part of him he could not control. He was helpless. His eyes were locked on her eyes, then they moved to her impossibly small mouth with large tempting, pouting lips. Even though he could not move, he could feel her firm breast touch his chest as she leaned in closer still. The sweet fragrance of jasmine filled the air and even though she only just barely grazed him with her breast, he could already imagine how she would feel pressed full upon his flesh. His need for her erased his memory of everything else. He forgot everything in that moment. His life to this point was just a distant memory. He was lost to this charming creature of nature. He gave over to his need and it both scared and excited him all at once.
Her breath ignited his, her juicy lips less than an inch from his. Then, he was deprived. She came closer, though she didn’t touch him. Why did she so torment him. Please, just take me he would scream, if he could move, but he couldn’t. She was close, close enough to feel her break the air around his cheek. If he had facial hair, she would have touched two day old stubble yet not touch him with how close she was. Leaning closer to the still elf, she came so near to his ear that when she exhaled, Aniphastus felt goose bumps ripple along his body.
Aniphastus could smell her intoxicating aroma with every inhaul. It drove him wild. He was beyond hope. He was hers.
“How is that my sweet,” she whispered. Even her voice was like a soft gift from the gods. He was afraid to answer. Mainly he couldn’t answer, he was too enthralled by her beauty. If he could move however, he would be too afraid to answer her for fear that he may upset her. It drove him mad.
Then, just when he thought he could not bare the pain of being with her or without her, she straightened and stood. Her perfect posture drove him wild one last time as she moved away. Instantly he regained control of his emotions, his gift and his need. Like a door he slammed shut the outside world and his inner turmoil and calmly stood to face her.
She looked at him, her firm breasts comfortably resting on her crossed arms like a sleeping new born babe, with one raised eyebrow asking the question again.
“I,” was all he could say. Aniphastus gripped the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger, trying to clear his head. A gentle breeze blew a branch to snare his cloak. Her could hear her tapping her foot on the cold dirt floor of the jungle. He violently shook his head, clearing the remains of his lethargy and gathered his robes about him. He looked at her again and conceded.
“Yes, you got me,” he said with a grin that was matched with his own. Before he knew what happened, she was in his arms, her perfect breasts crushed against him. Just yesterday he would not have gave it a second thought, he was four hundred and eighty two years her senior. Today, she had touched him like never before. Today, she had made him as helpless as a babbling human. Today, he viewed her differently. It was all he could do to hold in his need. With much restraint, he gently pushed her away.
“Here, I have something for you,” he said in a fatherly tone. Looking through his many pouches, he finally found the one he wanted and handed it to her. It was no bigger than a coin purse with a long thin gold chain. She looked at it with great enthusiasm.
“I love it,” she screamed, but when she started to twined the chain into her long locks of hair, he knew she didn’t understand. He waited for her to finish. In a matter of minutes she had her hair set up in a tight bun with a few stray hairs framing her face. Aniphastus at that moment thought she could roll in human sewage and she would still look desirable.
“Tadda,” she said with a sly smile, “but what is this pouch for?”
“No dear one,” he said, “while that is certainly an, um, interesting choice, allow me to show you how this works.” He gently undid the gold chain from her hair and showed her the pouch again.
“Just think of what you want and if you put it in the pouch, it will appear,” to prove his point he concentrated on some mistletoe and then pulled forth a sprig from the pouch. Her eyes went wide.
“How did you do that,” she asked, “is that the magic you speak of?”
“Yes,” he replied as he put back the mistletoe, “now, concentrate on a small brown package.
She took the bag from him and did as he instructed. In a moment she pulled forth an impossibly large package form the opening of the hole of the pouch. Her big bright amber eyes went impossibly wide as well. She had been given a few gifts in the past. It was not something that her family did, but humans and elves had odd customs. She ripped open the package with vigor.
Inside was a sheer veil of cloth. It shimmered in the light, but for as sheer as it was, she might as well have been naked. That didn’t matter though, she was always naked. That is the way nature birthed her, that is the way she lived. She had often told Aniphastus that if she was meant to wear clothes, she would have been born with them. She looked at the gift and frowned.
“Go ahead, try it on,” he urged.
She had learned that it wasn’t the gift that mattered, it was the thought behind the gift that counted. She took the veil and wrapped it about her. Instantly, it vanished. Distantly she could feel it, or at least she knew it was there, but it didn’t confine her in the way that other clothing items did.
“I designed it to move with you but still offer protection. It is imbued with all four of the elements,” as if on queue thin wispy mists blanketed her flawless skin. It formed around her like a skin forming gown with a sweeping train. Then the mist turned into earth and dust, taking the form of skin tight leather. The second skin outfit sparked and burst into flames, making her copper hair seem as if it was alive with the fire. The flames licked her breasts and groin. Then the flames died down and steamed away into water. The water constantly dripped from her, distorting her figure, yet never touching the ground.
Aniphastus drew a dagger and approached her.
“See how the elements deflect the blade,” he said as he ran the blade across her skin. Where the blade made contact the elements gathered in that location and stiffened, turning the blade away. He withdrew the blade and the elements faded into nothingness, leaving the illusion of her nudity again.
“Your mother is a full blooded nymph. She has protections from mother nature. As a fey, she can turn away most blades not made of iron, but you being a half blood only have half of that gift. This gift will aid your existing abilities to defend yourself. You can also use it in your elemental bending as well. You can also call forth the elements to cover you when you have a need,” he said. She gave him a questioning eyebrow. He knew how much she hated wearing clothes, even if this barely qualified.
“Like when we go to Sasserine for the Wormfall festival,” he said with a sly smile.
He thought he was going to have to knock her out to get her off of him.
“Really, you mean it? You are going to take me to Sasserine? The port city? And the Wormfall festival? I thought you had said it was too dangerous? Oh, I can’t wait. I love the forest, and Figment, really I do, but the city. I can’t wait. When can we go? Can I take figment with me?”
It made his heart sing to see this creature of nature in such a joyous state. He had told her many times that the city was no place for her kind, but in his heart, he knew it would come to this someday. She was only half fey. Her darker past called to her in her nightmares. Some time he knew she would have to deal with the turmoil within; The conflict of her fey mother and her bastard father. While his heart sang to see her in such joy, it also saddened him; for he knew that this innocent act of kindness could also be his greatest act of betrayal.
“Yes, you can take figment with you too, but you will have to wear at least some clothing. I know how you so hate clothes, but trust me, at least some will spare me from saving your honor.”
“Honor,” she tried the foreign word on her tongue, “what is that?” It never failed to amaze him how little she knew of the out side world, in spite of his constant instruction.
“That is a discussion for another time,“ he said, “for now, gather your things and let us depart. Your mother and sister will be missing you. It will take us all of tomorrow and most of the night before we reach your home. Then we have a full three days ride before we reach Sasserine.”
She hugged him again and then handed her the small pouch.
“You keep it,” he said, “it is part of the gift. I can’t see you wearing clothes and a huge traveling pack, but you will have need of things and you will have to place them somewhere. The pouch will hold as much as a large chest.” When she frowned and didn’t understand, he told her about six of these, and he showed her his heavy pack. Her eyes went wide again, unable to believe her luck.
“The veil has other uses too, but we will get into that later, for now, the moon is still giving us light. Now, as we travel, tell me of the districts of Sasserine.”
She gave him her infamous eyebrow, which suggested not again, but she rattled them off to quickly be done with it, “There are seven districts in Sasserine: Azure, Champion, Cudgel, Merchant, Noble, Shadowshore and Sunrise.”
“And the Affiliations?”
“Aniphastus?” she rolled her bright eyes as she moved around a fallen limb.
“Viola,” her kind had no need for names, it was a name he had given her, “since you were old enough to learn, I have instructed you at your mother’s request. I have taught you the knowledge of the planes and the inner workings of magic. You have been schooled in the knowledge of architectural engineering and the arcane, religions and nobility, history and geography. I have instructed you on how to conduct yourself as a lady and how to negotiate others to get what you want with mere words and how to bluff your way out of trouble. I have kept your wits strong, sharp and swift for this journey and those that may yet come. I have done this so that when you have a need you will not fail in my or your mother’s expectations. I have done so for your own good, so that when the time comes you will not die with a blade in you gut or left raped in an alley. Information is knowledge, knowledge is power, power over others is the difference between life and death. Now, name the Affiliations!”
“The church of the whirling fury,” she began to recite them, admitting defeat, “ the dawn council, the scarlet brotherhood, the seekers, the witch wardens, the zelkarune’s horns and the lotus dragons.”
He hated to be that strict with her, but he hated the consequences of his indifference more. She gathered the pouch and strapped the thin gold chain around her waste. The thin chain and tiny pouch made her more alluring, if that was possible. When she tried out a few different elemental outfits, Aniphastus thought that even though she was clothed in a fashion, he thought it might be a mistake. Somehow, the elements framed her features in such a way that he felt his need rising again. It was all he could do to maintain control.
“Why does the city of Sasserine hold the festival Wormfall?” they both said as one. Aniphastus asking what Viola was anticipating. She raised that eyebrow again, mocking her teacher.
“It marks the one-year anniversary of the defeat of Kyuss. Although the final events of the Age of Worms played out thousands of miles to the north, repercussions were felt in this region as the Wormgod nearly brought about the dawn of the new age. In the nearby Spire of Long Shadows, a small army of his undead minions erupted from the ruins there, along with several dangerous outsiders known as brood fiends. Three of these brood fiends made their way to Sasserine, but were destroyed by heroes from the city of Cauldron before they could do much harm.
“The event had since become yet another reason for the Sasserine’s Dawn council to celebrate, the production of festivals being an excellent way to build up the city’s morale and wealth as they continue to recover from one hundred years of servitude to a foreign power. On a side note, while not directly acknowledged, my mother and sister played a small part in the cleansing of the Wormgod’s minions. Since our home is in Kraken’s Cove, many of the monsters spilled into our own home. Were it not for my mother and sister, the heroes of Cauldron would have had much more to contend with.
A satisfied smile etched its way onto Aniphastus’ smooth ageless features. A certain swelling of pride filled him. The sense that a master gets when his pupil can no longer be taught, but instead teaches the master. She again raised her eyebrow, conveying a silent message for his years of instruction. He nodded his head slightly in reply; an unspoken conversation of thanks and you’re welcome shared between friends. They walked in silence, appreciating each others company and companionship. Both lost themselves in silent thoughts and neither noticed the slight trail of wind erasing any trace of their foot prints in the dirt carpet of the jungle.
This is my third run at a story hour and I think this one will turn out a bit better and more frequently updated. I have a few fun character types I wanted to write about, so I am aching to keep things current.
The main character is a Half-nymph named Viola. I won't give out stats and such until later in the story. I like people to get their own opinions first. However, as a half-nymph, you should be able to guess at some of them and she is powerful enough to survive solo, at least, mostly. There are a few other NPCs who will make an appearance as well. Characters I designed and always wanted to play, but never got the chance.
This story post and the next story post will give you some back ground for Viola. The third story post should start the adventure path: There is no Honor, from Dungeon #139, following the Savage Tide adventure path.
I love feed back and I don't mind answering questions, so feel free to leave it or ask it. If anything, it encourages me to update quicker when I get feedback, because then I know people are reading what I write.
Also, in my last story hour, I had a friend named Jessica Babcock who edited my grammar, the stuff I missed; and I missed a lot more than I thought. Sadly, she informed me that, while she liked the characters and stories I wrote about, she really could not connect with the fantasy genre. Needless to say, she won't be helping me on this project. I love technical feedback as well. However, I prefer if you PM me with anything you might catch as far as typos, spelling or grammer. It helps preserve the illusion that I know what I am doing
As far as when I will be updating, that depends. They will be a bit slow at first because I have to finish remodeling the basement so I can refi the house, it is a long story. I will have some time to write inbetween waiting for contractors to finish, but until then, updates will be in spare time. Once the basement is finished, I hope to have updates a few times a week. I am hoping to be finished with construction by mid November.
I think that covers everything, so here we go.
Oh, is there a way to preserve double spacing in paragraphs? Or is the following suitable for you guys to read?
Savage Tide Adventure path
Character Background
by DM Rocco
Character Background
by DM Rocco
Aniphastus watched the lithe silhouette of the woman with an intent eye. He knew where she was, even when he lost visual contact with her. His gift could detect her, he knew she was there. She bent low, his vision lost her as she crossed in front of a twisted tree. He followed her movement with his gift and regained the slightest bit of eye contact when her copper hair reflected in the lunar light. She was close, and he knew where she was.
A gentle breeze picked up and he nervously looked to make sure he was still alone. A wisp of dirt, could it be, he thought to himself. He pushed doubt to the back of his mind. He could detect it if it was anything but the wind. He was letting his own imagination get the best of him; and people thought that elves didn’t have imaginations, he thought bitterly to himself.
She turned her head, as if straining to hear, as he engaged his vision to the task at hand. Two long horns protruded from the silhouette of her shapely outline. It made her appear as a menacing demon from the neither world. Menacing that is, if he didn’t know that they were not horns. He knew what they were. Her long swept-back ears shown like horns in the pale blue moon light. His heart raced as he looked with longing upon her smooth skin. She wore no clothes, he knew that too. Her outline was too smooth and flawless for clothes to mare her flesh. Staring at her and nothing all at once, he caught himself day-dreaming. When he looked to her again, she slowly turned her eyes upon him, as if staring through is soul. In an instant, she dissolved into the shadows and was gone.
A cold shiver gripped him, again, he thought he was not alone. He panicked.
He could not see her and his gift failed. His magic, his birthright, gone. Aniphastus Knowlern, head of Knowlern Manor, benefactor and originator of the Standing Stone Park and friend of nature was completely blind. Five hundred years of life and for the first time, he was at a loss.
His mind raced.
He twisted his head in quick owl like movements. He scanned his immediate surroundings. He saw nothing. Then, the hairs on the back of his neck stood straight up as a chill ran down his spine. Slowly he turned his head to where he had just looked. To where, just a minute ago, nothing but thick overgrown forest stood in solitude. Whatever he expected to see would not see him if he made no sound. That was his desperate hope.
Too late, she was there; she had seen him.
The deep sensuous curves of her silhouette made his heart race. As an elf he was familiar with the charms of fey creatures, the allure of those blessed with nature’s treasures, but his heart always raced to see her. Mere words were never enough to describe her, but people always tried. Captivating, alluring, beautiful, exotic and dangerous were just a few of the emotions she inspired, but they never did her justice. Her long lean figure, hard muscles over soft curves, gave her both a look of exquisite grace and powerful danger rolled up in a neat carefree package. Long copper hair flowed down past the perfect posture of her lower back, over her curvaceous buttock and ended half way to her knees. He tried to reach into his gift, his birthright, only to stumble over his thoughts and feet all at once. He stared up at her from a prone position on his back. The moonlight caught the glint in her large amber eyes. No, not her eyes, her soul, laid bare for the world to see. Those eyes were a window into her inner beauty. To that, her natural good looks failed to compare.
She had beauty undefined, and she knew it; and yet didn’t. She held herself as one whom knew that the barest glimpse of her drove others wild with unabashed desire; yet, she was almost ignorant of that very fact. While she had such beauty that made men weep and women fill with rage in jealously, her carefree simplistic attitude towards others and gentle nature made her seem plain to the point of beauty.
She was much like other elves he had know, but far surpassing in grace and eloquence. She took a step towards him, her flawless unclothed skin made him sit upright and take notice as a gentle teasing breeze aroused his senses. It was the way she moved and did nothing at all. The way her powerful muscles moved under soft perfect skin. The way her perfect posture made her both menacing and alluring at the same time. The way her hard nipples made her breast seem more firm than they were. The way the long narrow diamond triangle of moon light cracked through her legs when she walked.
He felt weak.
He again fumbled for his spell pouch. He tried again to recall the arcane power flowing through his veins. He failed to remember a single bit of his studies. She leaned in, the moon showing her full in its bathing light. A glint in her amber eye revealed her power and his weakness. For all his might and all his knowledge, he was only a man; and a man has needs. He could control such hot need. He was above such things; or was he? Was he not a man? Did he not deserve a release?
She leaned in closer, her hot sweet breathe sending tremors through his body. He could not move, yet part of him did, a part of him he could not control. He was helpless. His eyes were locked on her eyes, then they moved to her impossibly small mouth with large tempting, pouting lips. Even though he could not move, he could feel her firm breast touch his chest as she leaned in closer still. The sweet fragrance of jasmine filled the air and even though she only just barely grazed him with her breast, he could already imagine how she would feel pressed full upon his flesh. His need for her erased his memory of everything else. He forgot everything in that moment. His life to this point was just a distant memory. He was lost to this charming creature of nature. He gave over to his need and it both scared and excited him all at once.
Her breath ignited his, her juicy lips less than an inch from his. Then, he was deprived. She came closer, though she didn’t touch him. Why did she so torment him. Please, just take me he would scream, if he could move, but he couldn’t. She was close, close enough to feel her break the air around his cheek. If he had facial hair, she would have touched two day old stubble yet not touch him with how close she was. Leaning closer to the still elf, she came so near to his ear that when she exhaled, Aniphastus felt goose bumps ripple along his body.
Aniphastus could smell her intoxicating aroma with every inhaul. It drove him wild. He was beyond hope. He was hers.
“How is that my sweet,” she whispered. Even her voice was like a soft gift from the gods. He was afraid to answer. Mainly he couldn’t answer, he was too enthralled by her beauty. If he could move however, he would be too afraid to answer her for fear that he may upset her. It drove him mad.
Then, just when he thought he could not bare the pain of being with her or without her, she straightened and stood. Her perfect posture drove him wild one last time as she moved away. Instantly he regained control of his emotions, his gift and his need. Like a door he slammed shut the outside world and his inner turmoil and calmly stood to face her.
She looked at him, her firm breasts comfortably resting on her crossed arms like a sleeping new born babe, with one raised eyebrow asking the question again.
“I,” was all he could say. Aniphastus gripped the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger, trying to clear his head. A gentle breeze blew a branch to snare his cloak. Her could hear her tapping her foot on the cold dirt floor of the jungle. He violently shook his head, clearing the remains of his lethargy and gathered his robes about him. He looked at her again and conceded.
“Yes, you got me,” he said with a grin that was matched with his own. Before he knew what happened, she was in his arms, her perfect breasts crushed against him. Just yesterday he would not have gave it a second thought, he was four hundred and eighty two years her senior. Today, she had touched him like never before. Today, she had made him as helpless as a babbling human. Today, he viewed her differently. It was all he could do to hold in his need. With much restraint, he gently pushed her away.
“Here, I have something for you,” he said in a fatherly tone. Looking through his many pouches, he finally found the one he wanted and handed it to her. It was no bigger than a coin purse with a long thin gold chain. She looked at it with great enthusiasm.
“I love it,” she screamed, but when she started to twined the chain into her long locks of hair, he knew she didn’t understand. He waited for her to finish. In a matter of minutes she had her hair set up in a tight bun with a few stray hairs framing her face. Aniphastus at that moment thought she could roll in human sewage and she would still look desirable.
“Tadda,” she said with a sly smile, “but what is this pouch for?”
“No dear one,” he said, “while that is certainly an, um, interesting choice, allow me to show you how this works.” He gently undid the gold chain from her hair and showed her the pouch again.
“Just think of what you want and if you put it in the pouch, it will appear,” to prove his point he concentrated on some mistletoe and then pulled forth a sprig from the pouch. Her eyes went wide.
“How did you do that,” she asked, “is that the magic you speak of?”
“Yes,” he replied as he put back the mistletoe, “now, concentrate on a small brown package.
She took the bag from him and did as he instructed. In a moment she pulled forth an impossibly large package form the opening of the hole of the pouch. Her big bright amber eyes went impossibly wide as well. She had been given a few gifts in the past. It was not something that her family did, but humans and elves had odd customs. She ripped open the package with vigor.
Inside was a sheer veil of cloth. It shimmered in the light, but for as sheer as it was, she might as well have been naked. That didn’t matter though, she was always naked. That is the way nature birthed her, that is the way she lived. She had often told Aniphastus that if she was meant to wear clothes, she would have been born with them. She looked at the gift and frowned.
“Go ahead, try it on,” he urged.
She had learned that it wasn’t the gift that mattered, it was the thought behind the gift that counted. She took the veil and wrapped it about her. Instantly, it vanished. Distantly she could feel it, or at least she knew it was there, but it didn’t confine her in the way that other clothing items did.
“I designed it to move with you but still offer protection. It is imbued with all four of the elements,” as if on queue thin wispy mists blanketed her flawless skin. It formed around her like a skin forming gown with a sweeping train. Then the mist turned into earth and dust, taking the form of skin tight leather. The second skin outfit sparked and burst into flames, making her copper hair seem as if it was alive with the fire. The flames licked her breasts and groin. Then the flames died down and steamed away into water. The water constantly dripped from her, distorting her figure, yet never touching the ground.
Aniphastus drew a dagger and approached her.
“See how the elements deflect the blade,” he said as he ran the blade across her skin. Where the blade made contact the elements gathered in that location and stiffened, turning the blade away. He withdrew the blade and the elements faded into nothingness, leaving the illusion of her nudity again.
“Your mother is a full blooded nymph. She has protections from mother nature. As a fey, she can turn away most blades not made of iron, but you being a half blood only have half of that gift. This gift will aid your existing abilities to defend yourself. You can also use it in your elemental bending as well. You can also call forth the elements to cover you when you have a need,” he said. She gave him a questioning eyebrow. He knew how much she hated wearing clothes, even if this barely qualified.
“Like when we go to Sasserine for the Wormfall festival,” he said with a sly smile.
He thought he was going to have to knock her out to get her off of him.
“Really, you mean it? You are going to take me to Sasserine? The port city? And the Wormfall festival? I thought you had said it was too dangerous? Oh, I can’t wait. I love the forest, and Figment, really I do, but the city. I can’t wait. When can we go? Can I take figment with me?”
It made his heart sing to see this creature of nature in such a joyous state. He had told her many times that the city was no place for her kind, but in his heart, he knew it would come to this someday. She was only half fey. Her darker past called to her in her nightmares. Some time he knew she would have to deal with the turmoil within; The conflict of her fey mother and her bastard father. While his heart sang to see her in such joy, it also saddened him; for he knew that this innocent act of kindness could also be his greatest act of betrayal.
“Yes, you can take figment with you too, but you will have to wear at least some clothing. I know how you so hate clothes, but trust me, at least some will spare me from saving your honor.”
“Honor,” she tried the foreign word on her tongue, “what is that?” It never failed to amaze him how little she knew of the out side world, in spite of his constant instruction.
“That is a discussion for another time,“ he said, “for now, gather your things and let us depart. Your mother and sister will be missing you. It will take us all of tomorrow and most of the night before we reach your home. Then we have a full three days ride before we reach Sasserine.”
She hugged him again and then handed her the small pouch.
“You keep it,” he said, “it is part of the gift. I can’t see you wearing clothes and a huge traveling pack, but you will have need of things and you will have to place them somewhere. The pouch will hold as much as a large chest.” When she frowned and didn’t understand, he told her about six of these, and he showed her his heavy pack. Her eyes went wide again, unable to believe her luck.
“The veil has other uses too, but we will get into that later, for now, the moon is still giving us light. Now, as we travel, tell me of the districts of Sasserine.”
She gave him her infamous eyebrow, which suggested not again, but she rattled them off to quickly be done with it, “There are seven districts in Sasserine: Azure, Champion, Cudgel, Merchant, Noble, Shadowshore and Sunrise.”
“And the Affiliations?”
“Aniphastus?” she rolled her bright eyes as she moved around a fallen limb.
“Viola,” her kind had no need for names, it was a name he had given her, “since you were old enough to learn, I have instructed you at your mother’s request. I have taught you the knowledge of the planes and the inner workings of magic. You have been schooled in the knowledge of architectural engineering and the arcane, religions and nobility, history and geography. I have instructed you on how to conduct yourself as a lady and how to negotiate others to get what you want with mere words and how to bluff your way out of trouble. I have kept your wits strong, sharp and swift for this journey and those that may yet come. I have done this so that when you have a need you will not fail in my or your mother’s expectations. I have done so for your own good, so that when the time comes you will not die with a blade in you gut or left raped in an alley. Information is knowledge, knowledge is power, power over others is the difference between life and death. Now, name the Affiliations!”
“The church of the whirling fury,” she began to recite them, admitting defeat, “ the dawn council, the scarlet brotherhood, the seekers, the witch wardens, the zelkarune’s horns and the lotus dragons.”
He hated to be that strict with her, but he hated the consequences of his indifference more. She gathered the pouch and strapped the thin gold chain around her waste. The thin chain and tiny pouch made her more alluring, if that was possible. When she tried out a few different elemental outfits, Aniphastus thought that even though she was clothed in a fashion, he thought it might be a mistake. Somehow, the elements framed her features in such a way that he felt his need rising again. It was all he could do to maintain control.
“Why does the city of Sasserine hold the festival Wormfall?” they both said as one. Aniphastus asking what Viola was anticipating. She raised that eyebrow again, mocking her teacher.
“It marks the one-year anniversary of the defeat of Kyuss. Although the final events of the Age of Worms played out thousands of miles to the north, repercussions were felt in this region as the Wormgod nearly brought about the dawn of the new age. In the nearby Spire of Long Shadows, a small army of his undead minions erupted from the ruins there, along with several dangerous outsiders known as brood fiends. Three of these brood fiends made their way to Sasserine, but were destroyed by heroes from the city of Cauldron before they could do much harm.
“The event had since become yet another reason for the Sasserine’s Dawn council to celebrate, the production of festivals being an excellent way to build up the city’s morale and wealth as they continue to recover from one hundred years of servitude to a foreign power. On a side note, while not directly acknowledged, my mother and sister played a small part in the cleansing of the Wormgod’s minions. Since our home is in Kraken’s Cove, many of the monsters spilled into our own home. Were it not for my mother and sister, the heroes of Cauldron would have had much more to contend with.
A satisfied smile etched its way onto Aniphastus’ smooth ageless features. A certain swelling of pride filled him. The sense that a master gets when his pupil can no longer be taught, but instead teaches the master. She again raised her eyebrow, conveying a silent message for his years of instruction. He nodded his head slightly in reply; an unspoken conversation of thanks and you’re welcome shared between friends. They walked in silence, appreciating each others company and companionship. Both lost themselves in silent thoughts and neither noticed the slight trail of wind erasing any trace of their foot prints in the dirt carpet of the jungle.
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