So what happens next. Already it seems so long ago that Cutter, the ship’s first mate helped me jump ship. I remember standing just a moment to see what was to be my very last sunrise from the bow of the Nightshade, the ship that had been my home, its crew my family as long as I can remember. She’d been named for the half Drow wife of its captain, my Father on the day she’d died giving birth to my sister and I and left him to raise the two of us alone. He’d turned his back on the land that day and lived the rest of his life, a pirate the scourge of the inner sea.

My sister, Synn and I learned the ways of the sea before we could walk and sword play not long after that. Synn, was a natural the Captain had always said but there was something else, something of our Mother’s Drow tainted blood. There was a darkness in her eyes, those eyes that so closely mimicked my own, those eyes that were the only thing we carried from our Father. Many times I saw the concerned look on the Captain’s face as he’d watch Synn spar with one of the crew never giving an inch, nearly killing one of his best swordsman. It wasn’t long before not one able body would stand against her except Cutter and Father would always step in before things went too far as much for Synn’s benefit as Cutter’s. He knew Cutter would have no qualms about spilling Synn’s blood but he was more worried that Cutter would be the one to bleed. I learned to stay out of her way. I learned to be quick and to move like the cat that that was as much a part of the crew as any of the rest, prized for killing the rats that carried disease and ruined food and water.

I got together what money I had saved over the years and what equipment I thought I would need. I did this secretly whenever my Sister would be otherwise occupied, not even thinking about me. I did this at my father’s request. He was becoming sickly and I think he knew he was dying. Cutter would come each day to find me and bring me to him so he and I could talk and he warned me not to stay aboard ship in the event of his death. He knew something. This final day He told me to get ready to leave saying do not let the morning sun find you aboard this ship. We’d come to port in a small out of the way village. Cutter nearly had to carry me out of my Father’s quarters that night. I did not want to leave him in his last moments. As I was dragged from my father’s death bed I saw that my sister was standing outside waiting to go in, She had a look of satisfaction on her face.

Later in the darkness Cutter came for me with the news that my Father was dead. Her eyes filled with tears she helped me to make my way to a small boat that had been prepared. I looked one last time through my own tears to the small quarters that had been my home for so long. Then Cutter hurried me out on deck and we quietly made our way but she stopped for a moment fishing something out of her pocket as I looked to see the sun just beginning to rise above the horizon. The ship was silent as a grave as I made my way to the small craft that would take me to land. As I climbed down the ladder I heard my sister’s voice. Cutter dropped both my equipment and a final gift from my father. Before she turned to face my sister and buy me as much time as she could with her own blood if need be.

I never heard the exchange of words that followed. I never saw the dagger from out of the dark that took Cutter’s life. I never saw my sister’s face knowing I had escaped. I never saw my Father take his last breath as my sister watched him die, her face so close to his as she took that breath from him. I lay in the bottom of the small boat wondering why nobody came to retrieve me. Why my Sister didn’t just come to kill me. In the end I didn’t even care as I wandered for days after I landed in my small boat putting as much distance between me and my Sister as possible. This is how I came to be here in this tavern in a village I know nothing of. Some time ago I bought a pack horse that turned out to be little more than a nag but she has been good enough to carry my few belongings and I am at least comfortable. All I can ask of my life now is so what happens next?

Character sheet: Tythe [Elf rogue from the Sodden Lands]

Some questions should not be asked, and some answers are better left undiscovered, as I have learned. When three unsavory-looking, well-armed men arrived in the tavern and began asking questions it was obvious that they were looking for someone. And from what I could overhear from the upstairs landing it was obvious that it would not be in my best interest to be found.

With a flip of the coin that my father had given me for luck, I slipped out through an upstairs window and disappeared into the night. In order to disappear I found myself going to the one place that anyone who does not wish to be found can go: Absalom.

What a hangover. One thing I never dealt with too well was the transition from ship to dry land. It always makes me sick. A bottle of rum and some good company usually helps. Good company, I can’t believe I said that Here I am trying to stay out of sight and what happens my very first day in town. I end up hanging out with the one guy who will most likely draw allot of unwanted attention in my direction, Zandu. First he decides to help out some drunk getting the stuffing knocked out of him in an alley and then what do I do I follow him to yet another fight saving some old geezers from some ruff characters who looked like they were just thrown out of an orc charm school. Yeah, I know I didn’t have to follow him but what can I say I never could turn down a good fight.

Zandu has a way of getting people to follow him there’s no denying. He not only got me to follow him but two others as well. Astrid is a bit on the slow side. I suspect that’s just because of her upbringing. I would never think of her as stupid. She may not understand why anyone would sleep in a bed but I’m sure in her element she would far surpass any of the rest of us in knowing how to handle herself. Another who seems to have joined our little band if for no other reason than to try and keep Zandu under some sort of control is Salma. She is some sort of cleric or something like that. She’s good with a quick cure but as quick as she is it’s nothing compared with her temper. I have to admire her bravery the way she stomped into the middle of our little battle in the alley. Well that’s it for now. I’m probably making a big mistake but I think I’ll stick around for a while. If for no other reason than I find these characters entertaining.

I don’t want to sound like a total witch. The fact is that I feel like a fish out of the sea and I still have yet to get my land legs. I miss my family, the crew and my Father. I don’t miss the evil back handed doings of my Sister. My latest dealings here in Absalom have brought it home to me just how far out of my own element I truly am. On board ship I was a force to be reckoned with. Yet here the simple task of putting down a few dead things seemed almost overwhelming. I am so happy to have my new found friends. Even though Zandu got me into this in the first place it is good to know he is at my back and that the others Salma, her healing touch and Astrid with her song stand with me. They are not my family but as friends and fellow adventurers they will more than do and I look forward to a hopefully long and profitable future together.

I was miserable this day. The heat and stink of the Puddles, the cold and fog surrounding the granary and the undead things, I will not call those things men. The traipsing off from one place to another following one clue and then another, wading through stinking filth to find that the person we’d been told could help us in our task was uninclined to do so. I admit I didn’t deal well with him and I accused him of wasting our time. The look on his face said something of a puzzle to me in that silent language and immediately felt I should better have said nothing and I could not meet his eyes again. I thought for a moment that I had ruined everything and I’d let everyone down but In the end after a test of our character he chose to help us after all. I have a lot to learn if I am to live the life of the land lover.

I am hungry and tired I need a bath and I want a drink like never before in my life but something tells me that there is much to do and we may have a long journey yet before any of us may rest.

They say an army travels on its stomach but our small band of what seems to slowly be evolving into friends travels and fights on its very soul. How I came to that conclusion is a story in itself. I don’t know why it was that Zandu decided to charge full on in as reckless a manner as he did into a fray that I honestly don’t know how we managed to survive any more than I know why it was I so foolishly decided to follow him.

Salma had decided to turn and walk away from the strange grouping of towers that looked to me like the four fingers of a hand trying desperately to push their way up out of the sand as did Astrid. This is by no means a reflection on them. I was myself ready to just call it a day when the arrows began to fly from a small slot like opening near the top of one of the smaller towers that leaned inward toward the taller one in the center. Both Zandu and myself fired arrows of our own but it was Zandu ‘s that entered the tower and killed the archer within but at the time we did not know that as we made ready to rush the tower.

Salma, Astrid, Zandu and myself hadn’t slept. We hadn’t eaten. We’d been wounded and were sick of fighting. It seemed to me that there was a conspiracy to keep us from getting any rest and I can’t help but believe who ever was behind this was doing what ever they could to keep us from having even a moment to get ourselves regrouped before we met once more in battle those undead things or whoever else was under their control.

I rushed headlong at the tower as Zandu did the same hoping to outrun the arrows of whoever was in the tower firing at us and by some miracle we made it and searched for a way in. Once inside we found a ladder and climbed, expecting a fight when we got to the top but all we found was the archer Zandu had killed. Salma and Astrid were some distance away when they realized we were not following yet they were loathe to return for us but something told them they would be needed. From here things get hazy for me. I remember more of those primitive looking men with the strange tattoos I remember sliding down a wall and rounding a corner to confront what seemed like dozens of them. I remember barely a shining great sword flashing by my head to take out one of them just in time to save my life. I remember backing off away to give myself some room to take one of my few health potions and I remember at some point seeing all of the tattooed men lying dead on the ground with a strangely clad human creature standing amongst the carnage we had wrought and I remember him ducking as quickly as he could move into the main door of the tower structure and I stand here now, my father’s coin in my hand feeling the weight of it, flipping it over and over. Should I try the door, should I not.

More Rum!

Yeah, I’m drunk. What of it? I wanted that thrice damned creature of filth impaled on my sword after all we’d been through and he escaped!

The old man in the street was too slow and I took the bottle from him with a flourish of my rapier. Laughing as I bowed to him, I threw the gold with a wink to see his look of anger turn to one of drunken glee as he realized I’d just given him enough to stay drunk for a week. Removing my sword from the handle of the jug sheathing sword and raising the bottle to my lips I ran to catch up with the rest. Where to now? Who cares. I need a drink. More rum!

Yeah, I’m drunk. What of it? I wanted that thrice-damned creature of filth impaled on my sword after all we’d been through and he escaped!

The old man in the street was too slow and I took the bottle from him with a flourish of my rapier. Laughing as I bowed to him, I threw the gold with a wink to see his look of anger turn to one of drunken glee as he realized I’d just given him enough to stay drunk for a week. Removing my sword from the handle of the jug sheathing sword and raising the bottle to my lips I ran to catch up with the rest. Where to now? Who cares. I need a drink. More rum!

Too much has happened for me to keep up with in the past days. My mind swims and it’s not just because of the booze. I sit here in the dark on watch, waiting, keeping myself ready for the assassin’s blade not because I fear it but because I have sworn to kill everyone and anyone who may have had to do with Zandu’s death. He was a good man and didn’t deserve to die. I should have been at his back not playing at the indignant dignitary. As chaotic an individual as he was he will be sorely missed by all of us.

I think the trouble began long before any of us realized. Things went so well at the ball that we became over confident so that while Zandu and Salma were taking the Princess to their destination and Astrid and I were making our way back to the Golden Griffin after, the plans were already in place to trap us. It was at the cost of Zandu’s death that we barely managed to escape. We found our employer dead, the one whom we were to kidnap was gone and now we hide in this room waiting, for what— for me to get drunker for one thing for the others to heal and for our dear Salma to calm and regain herself.

I don’t know how this young hunter? came to be with us. But his arrow came in handy more than once so I guess we’ll keep him. I almost wish I hadn’t jokingly twisted that ring I found on the dead assassin’s finger. It was a waste of time running around in the dark like I did and I nearly got myself killed. And the others for that matter since they chose to follow me. I can only say it was a good thing I was back where I’d first found myself when they appeared. I was able to lead them away from the direction I’d gone and after a fight that seemed almost anticlimactic we found another room similar to the one we first entered the place through and I once again impulsively gave my ring a twist.

I’ve got to say I really hate ghosts but where did I end up taking my companions and myself but the cliff region of Absalom. Haunted and deadly it was not a place to be caught out in the dark. And it wasn’t long before the place lived up to its name and we were once again fighting for our lives. No ghost thank whatever Gods played with our lives this night but creatures such as I’d never seen. They attacked in numbers but were small and hard to hit with arrow or steel. We managed to fight them off for a time but they regrouped and attacked again but the sun showed a sliver of light over the distant horizon and the things didn’t seem to like that and those we hadn’t managed to kill left us and we made our way back to the Golden Griffin and now here we are. What started out to be a day of healing and resting and just regrouping became for most of us a day of watching, waiting, looking in every shadow for a dagger, every flash of light a sword, but it never came. Instead we were quietly subtly ensnared within our own curiosity by a tiny creature that looked and felt and seemed in every way perfectly harmless yet it nearly killed Salma burrowing itself into her chest by means of tiny clawed feet and tendrils that entered her flesh. We managed to get the thing off her and trap it in a crate supplied by the manager’s daughter who went to the local market to secure it. And now here I sit just trying to remember through rum-hazed memory the occurrences of the past few days staring at a tiny thing wondering just what use this thing could be to us.

The rum running through me like fresh blood through the dried-out husk of a vampire I hold the coin in my hand flipping it over and over, multicolored reflections of mythical creatures seeming to stand before my eyes until I lay my hand upon the thing, covering it and raise it once again to my eye. It’s tails, a creature like a dog but with three heads tearing at the body of a giant spider-like creature, the dark half of my soul wins out once again and I look to a tiny creature lying under a cloak in a crate. I can only hope it lives long enough for me to do what I must do. The assassins that have been following us must be sent by that vile bastard that we’ve been fruitlessly chasing all over Absalom. By the time I catch one, if I can catch one, our little one-eyed friend should be good and hungry and assassin will make as good a meal as any after first answering a few questions; but if it dies from hunger in the mean time then we are out nothing. I catch my eye reflected in the coin looking like an inset ruby, the purple iris turning dark and bloody. It seems I’m going to have to fight harder to contain the darkness within me. I do not wish to become my sister. She opened herself up to the darkness that was heritage from our Drow mother. I pick up the bottle on the nearby table, look at it and throw it across the room to smash in a corner. No more; I’m done with that. There is a hunter that needs hunting and something vile that needs expunged.