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raindrenchedstories · 11 months

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Stranded

A short fic of Otis

He always had a love for diving. The beauty of the world around him. The wild life and it’s behavior. The freedom of motion, being able to explore the vertical and horizontal space around him. All perfectly paced by the limited time you had to experience it. Which made every moment more precious.

He never planned to dive alone. It was supposed to be so simple. Then the boat left him. He floated for a long time, using as little of his oxygen as he could. The thermal suit kept his body warm for now. He had an emergency bag, with a flare, but they couldn’t survive being soaked for too long. He still would rather fire it once he saw signs of life.

Still, his arms and legs were getting tired. He debated long and hard with himself if it was better to seek some form of land, or to stay where he was lost. What was best for his survival?

He decided to find land. In any other situation he’d stay put, but right now, survival first. Chances were, if he found land, there would be a trade route through the area. He flipped to his stomach and began swimming. The world was nothing but a vast plane of blue for a while. Broken up by short waves.

It took him most of the afternoon, and his body was growing more and more weak. He had to rest, and he hated it. He wanted nothing more than to rest. It was then that the cry of a caught his attention. He paused to watch which way it flew. Birds meant land. So he made an effort to follow it.

It landed on a well occupied rotting log, bobbing along in the water. Perhaps a whole flock lived there. However, it was floating, and he was weakening. Otis swam for it. He gripped the dead tree desperately.

It was slippery with algae and bird droppings. Half the flock was displaced by him hauling himself up onto it. They settled happily on his back only a moment after. He ignored them. Worse case scenario, he had a free meal in being a landing strip. If they didn’t try and eat him first.

He watched the birds warily. Their attention was solely on the sea. Perhaps there was some event they were waiting for, but he could hardly care. He only thought about the safety of sleeping on a log in the middle of the sea. Would he be at risk of infection for sleeping in bird droppings? Did he care? He dozed off.

The water rolled beneath him, which woke him with a start. Especially when the log spun. He found himself submerged and it was only through a lucky gasp that he even had air. He fumbled for his oxygen before coming to his senses. He had to breach the water. He had to surface, he had to-

Something big moved below him. Disconcerting but not at all concerning. Most aquatic mega fauna was safe. He popped his mask on, and took a breath. It... was not a whale. Below him was an open face, humanoid, and interested. He spluttered and made his way to the surface. He must have tasted too much sea water. Maybe he got high off of what ever was baking in the sun on that log.

This theory was shot to hell when a large hand wrapped around him. He wanted to scream as his movement was restricted, but he refused to waste air. Instead, he only glared at the broad eyes staring back. They surfaced, and he spat his breather out. He would have ripped his mask off too, but his arms were trapped.

“WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU?” He snapped. The face was female, as was the rest of the body he could see. She held him at chest level, to gaze down at him. Her hand shifted, and in a sickening drop and spin, he found himself laying on her palm. He removed his mask then, and took a worried peak over her hand.

She was pulling a Jesus, standing on top of the water like it were an average floor. He shot a glance back to her. Her second hand rose up to meet him. She was slow and careful, like she didn’t want to startle him. As if that mattered now. Instead, he scooted as far from the offending hand as he could.

She glanced around as if looking for something, all the while she muttered. He couldn’t make out the words, and came to the conclusion they probably didn’t speak the same language. She asked him a direct question, and he gave a shrug. Her brow furrowed.

She gestured to him, and he gave her a blank stare. At this point, it was clear she meant him no harm. He eyed the water hopefully, he just wanted to get back to reasonably stable ground. She looked down, then at him. Her free hand tapped a finger on her palm for his attention. She gestured down and tilted her head. He gave a nod.

This he could understand. He expected her to set him in the water and tower still, but instead, she sunk slowly. First her feet, then knees and so on. When her hand hit the water, she left it under him and sank further to be on eye level.

She gave him enough room to swim, but he could stand comfortably in her hand. Something he chose to do. She sighed. Her other hand fitted in her hair as she gazed about the horizon. Clearly something bothered her. Probably finding a small man in the middle of nowhere.

He waved for her attention. He couldn’t speak to her, but hand signals were easy to understand. They were designed to be. He drew on his diving knowledge and signaled that he wanted to go back to the boat. It wasn’t exactly correct, but he hoped she could draw on context. She squinted and held him closer instead.

Being so close to her face was disconcerting. He squirmed under the attention and backed himself against her fingers. He tried to repeat the signal. She looked puzzled still. He sighed.

“How about Land. Do you understand the word LAND?” He pleaded. She blinked, and he lost hope at communicating. Finally she made a gesture he didn’t quite understand. She then held him in a loose fist, which made things terrifying again. He was raised to sit on top of her head, while she moved about the water easily.

She started on a journey, leaving a wake of gulls behind her. He watched them dive to feed on whatever swam up behind her. She paid it no mind, and steadily trod along the water as though it were land. He wanted to complain, but honestly, he was just too tired to care. She made no effort to hurt him, and was clearly concerned for his well being. So he didn’t feel like he was in any danger. He only lamented that he’d been on that disgusting log before she put him in her hair.

He played with the idea of it all being a dream. However, he knew better. You usually wake up from terrifying dreams. This was real. The water parted around her in a soothing way, and the sound of the ocean calmed him. She walked casually, but covered so much area in such a small space of time.

Finally, she found a small island. But by the time she tried to reach for him, she heard a small snore from her own head. The woman stifled a laugh, she tried to extract him without waking him. She thought she failed, until she felt him shiver in her hands.

The poor thing was probably struggling the whole day. Her thumb stroked his back as she laid him on the small island, past the tide line. She couldn’t exactly start a fire near him safely, so she chose to sit beside him and lay her hand over his body. She’d seen ships pass by from time to time, but she had no concept of their schedule.

He was the first human she’d ever met, and he was stranded and alone. She waited with him until dawn. When he finally stirred. She half expected the scream, but it still startled her. He flattened himself against the first tree he found. She watch him go from frightened to understanding, as his feet explored the soft sand.

She shot him a smile and stood. She pointed to the sand, and drew a quick sketch of a boat passing the island. He watched, and nodded. He then drew his own diagram for her, but it was too small for her to see. She wavered helplessly. He sighed, held his arms up in an odd gesture. She assumed he was asking to be picked up. So she did so.

He screamed, and she instantly felt like an ass. Still she brought him eye level. He gestured firmly to the ground. She set him down. He stormed in a circle for a moment before she tapped the sand beside him. She had something she wanted, and this was her first chance to get it. She’d never seen a human before, so she wanted to draw him.

He watched her mime a pen on paper in her hand, and gave a nod. “Yes, I can write. If you have something for me to write on... Or I could find a stick I guess. But if you can’t see at-” He was cut off when she stood up suddenly. She motioned for him to stay put, and excitedly charged into the water.

It took her an hour to return. An hour he spent making himself a shelter, and trying to spear fish with a stick he’d found. He’d roughly ground it down with a rock but it still was pretty blunt.

He held the stick aloft when she arrived. An odd book was held in her hand, and a very large pen. He didn’t know why he expected otherwise. Still, he threw the stick into the sand and walked to her. She was still uncomfortably tall.

She sat herself in the sand and began writing. He waited to be shown what she was saying for a while. However when the wait felt too long, he cleared his throat loudly. The woman peeked over her book, and tilted her head. He made a writing motion on his hand.

It was then she flushed, she turned the book, and showed him a series of rough sketches. They were all of him. He gawked. “You... wanted to draw me. I see.” He had to say, he was somewhat flattered. He gave another nod, if that was it, he could sit still. However, his stomach protested heavily.

He raised a finger to signal he needed time, and for good measure, placed a hand on his stomach. She watched him, and nodded quickly. She drew a fire in her book and showed it to him. She poked the drawing, then him. She then drew a fish and a drop of water, and pointed to herself.

It took less time now, as she brought him a whole salmon, and a discarded water cooler, filled with actual bottles of water. He was delighted to say the least. The whole time he cooked she sketched. She also drew him while he ate and drank. He didn’t care in the least. He was on land, he was fed, and he had water. It was thanks to her and he wasn’t going to ruin it for himself.

This arrangement continued for three days. At one point, she helped him with his shelter. He was more accustomed to being around her, and the daily sketch. At one point he let the suit rest around his hips, and the sketching came in full force. He ignored her.

On the fourth day, he was woken before the sun rose with a loud smacking beside his shelter. Otis spat out sand as he staggered over to her. “Come on. It’s too fucking early to pose and sit pretty. Can you even see right now?”

She pointed furiously at a set of lights traveling the sea. He fumbled to light his flare and fired it. The lights on the ship blinked in acknowledgment and he found himself laughing deliriously. “Yes YES!!! They see me! Lady they see me! I’m going home! I’m-”

He stopped to stare into her eyes. She stared back at him. They both knew this was probably the end of their time together, but she still smiled. He pointed to her hand. She held it out to him.

Gently, he rested his head on her pinky finger. “Thank you.” It was all he could say. She held him loosely in her best approximation of a hug, and withdrew her hand. He turned to watch for the small boat they’d send for him. He then turned back to her and placed a hand on his chest. “Otis.” He said firmly.

She nodded, and copied the gesture. “Pril.” Swiftly, she turned and made for the water. He watched her go sadly. She saved his life, and all he could do was be a model for a short time. When the boat arrived he trod over to it, with only passing regret he couldn’t give her more.

“You guys are life savors. Thank you. All of you.” He called to the men in the boat.

“No lo entendemos, pero nos alegra que estés bien” One of the men in the boat called back. Otis’ shoulders dropped. He just sighed, and got in the damn boat.

“Canada. Please.” He groaned.

“Que entendemos.”

#Giant/tiny #Stranded at sea #My works #Original characters #Otis #New giant character #Google translated at the end #Language barrier

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raindrenchedstories · 11 months

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Guys, if you read on AO3 please try to create an account. So many of us writers are going to be forced to lock down our fics to registered users out of necessity to help keep AI away, and it kills us because we don’t want to stop any of you from reading.

AO3 is invite only. So if you know an AO3 user, ask if they have an invitation to give you (we’re given invite codes to share with others who want to join) because that’s an easy way to get in. If you don’t know someone you can ask, this is AO3’s instructions for requesting one from them…

I know this seems like an extra step and maybe you don’t think you need it and can just read from people who haven’t locked their fics. But this isn’t just about you as the reader. If you enjoy fics and you want to keep them coming, this is how you support your favorite writers! If our stats and comments plummet, I guarantee writing is going to start going down as well. Nobody wants that! So please consider making an account and signal boosting this as well! 🙏🏻

**NOTE: AO3 indicates (as of today) there’s 48k some people in the queue for invites and they’re sending out about 5k per day. That’s not a bad wait at all!!**

#If you need an invite let me know #News #Ai is at it again

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raindrenchedstories · 11 months

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New characters

Basically DnD characters I really wanted to play, but can’t. So I wrote a story instead. Ao3 Link

Ale was downed at alarming paces, laughter rose from odd tables, and the strangest fellow was preforming some kind of dance on the stage. It was a dandy sight full of mirth. There was no way in hell he wouldn’t be able to find a suitable team to hire.

The nobleman stepped quietly into the room. He was very much out of place, but he walked with little concern. Two bodyguards stood at either shoulder, a blade in hand and dressed in what he assumed were common clothing.

The barkeep eyed him with clear confusion. Not unlike his mother’s expression when he proposed this little pet project. The nobleman pulled a chair to himself, and stood upon it. “I am offering a lump sum of six hundred gold pieces, to whomever is willing to do a little job for me!” He bellowed.

Further in the back of the bar, lightly strumming on a lyre, sat a man clad in blue. He perked up at the payment, then scoffed to himself. He stood, lifted the bowl he’s brought to beg in, and dumped three silver in his hand. A room for the evening at least. If the rates were correct.

With a grumble, he passed the nobleman’s bodyguards and set the change down. The barkeep eyed this with a questioning gaze. “This is an inn, correct?” The man tucked his lyre under his robe and looked back to the barkeep.

“... Up the stairs to the right. Left is the loo. You’ll be sharing with who ever else paid for a room. Think there’s like... three more up there. Well, two and a half at least.” He pointed to the stairs and pocketed the money. The man huffed. It wasn’t an ideal situation, but as the saying went, beggars can’t be choosers. He ascended the stairs slowly.

The noble below had rallied quite the riot of would be adventurers looking to either rob him, or be hired by him. The lad would probably learn to send an envoy next time. The covered bard climbed his last stair when a hulking figure crossed his vision.

She was probably the ugliest person he’d ever seen. Tusks jutted from her under bite, and her brow sloped forwards enough to hide her eyes in almost permanent shade. He only knew it was female via the scant clothing on her body, in some shape of a feminine gown. Other than that, she was built sturdy and broad. Her brown hair was pulled back into a loose braid, and she carried a large leather bag with her.

She caught sight of him, and flashed a small smile. When he offered no greeting in return she hunched in on herself a little and fled into the room to the right. So she was one of his temporary room mates. Wasting no time, the man followed her.

Inside the bedroom, two more people sat on thin bedrolls on the ground. They all took separate corners of the room, the man followed suit. Though to his regret, he found himself next to the door. The woman he saw earlier had covered herself a little more fully. Beside her bedroll was a set of cheap plate mail.

Also in the room was a tiny little red lizard like creature that confused him. The little thing had picked the corner farthest from the door and tucked himself in the back. More like coiled around himself. it’s stubby tail strained to tuck in. It was a bipedal beast trying to sleep like a quadrupedal creature. Beady yellow eyes glared from it’s uncomfortable position.

His final roommate just smiled at him, and appeared to take interest. “Hello friend! Was that you playing music earlier? Downstairs I mean.” He gestured to the bard’s lyre as he spoke. The final man was quite tall, two graceful horns curved backwards, and were decorated with cheap trinkets. A demon spawn of a pale green.

The clad figure nodded, and the pale one grinned wider. He pulled something out of his pocket, and held it up for the newcomer to see. “I’ll pay you a gold to hear you sing.” He eyed his compatriots though they mostly looked on with mild curiosity. “Tell you what, why don’t you sing our sorry lot to sleep?”

The covered one rolled his eyes but removed the lyre from it’s place. The gold to could cover some of his needs. “If it won’t bother anyone else.” He agreed. The woman blinked up at the pair. She gave a shy nod. The reptile popped his head up.

“Just hope you’re good at it.” It snapped. It returned to it’s awkward, curled position. The bard idly wondered to himself why it was even paying for a room if it was only going to take up a small space of it. Still, with the permission given, he reached his hand out for the money, and once it was received, strummed a few experimental notes on the instrument.

The others settled into their beds for the night. The man plucked gently on the strings until he recalled the tune he wanted. He loosened his scarf obscuring his face enough that he could be heard clearly, but still be relatively unseen. The demon born tilted his head in confusion.

The song came easily after a while. It was memorized and mechanical. The woman sighed, she settled into her bedroll and slightly off of it with her broad body. The little lizard shut his eyes and let himself drift. It left the two men alone in the room. One singing to the other.

The green one watched him with somewhat of a disappointed look. When the clad one finished his song he sat still. “Do you not sleep?” He jeered from behind his mask.

“I do. But I haven’t got my money’s worth now have I? I asked you to sing us all to sleep.” The other man grinned broadly.

“You asked to hear my voice first. Not my fault you apparently suffer insomnia.” The room was silent aside from the lizard’s snoring. It sprawled into a less feral position once it stopped concentrating on looking like some animal.

The patron’s expression fell. “And all I got was a song you didn’t really have your heart in. I wouldn’t call that your true voice.” The bard eyed him with cold calculation. Finally, he nodded. He could certainly complete the request, after all. Perhaps not in the manner he was asked, however.

“For your money’s worth then. I’ll sing you to sleep.” He placed his lyre down, and strode to the other man’s side. The demon flushed a little in the cheeks. The clad one fluffed the other man’s pillow, and nudged his forehead coldly. “Get comfortable.”

Obediently, the other man sprawled flat on his back, eyes open and shocked. The bard sneered behind his scarf. With a sigh, he returned to his lyre. The half demon deflated a bit in response. This time, the notes came easier.

A stream of magic played along his fingers as he plucked out the notes. It wove through his throat and into his voice. It clung to him like well fitted fabric. The demon flinched and started to protest, before he was out cold. Flat on his back against the bed sheets.

The clad man finally pulled his scarf down fully. With the room sleeping soundly, he could have a minute to himself. He made use of this time to eat a small amount from his travel bag, and offer a small prayer to whatever force gave him the wits to stay alive another day. With that done, he pulled his scarf back over his face, and leaned against the wall behind him.

Strictly speaking, he didn’t need sleep, but he did dream. Sort of. Memories from days past flitted through his mind, but he never let himself go so far as to be unaware of his surroundings. Not here, not among strangers.

Downstairs fell silent. The barkeep closed up shop, and locked the doors. He made a point to check on his evening’s renters and grimaced. The tramp’s eyes were open, but focused on nothing. The human town did get it’s occasional visitors, but how any human man could sit comfortably in a room with a half orc, tiefling, and a kobold was beyond him.

Well, it wasn’t the barkeep’s problem. The noble brat from earlier was enough of a kerfuffle to deal with, and the crowd he’d had to push out the door along side the nitwit noble lost him money in tables and chairs. These renters would have to go in the morning so he could repair the place in private. As he left, he swore he heard the covered stranger bid him goodnight.

The next morning there were guards at the door. The noble dumb ass happened to complain about the fact that he flashed six hundred gold, and got mugged for it. No one but the noble was surprised. The Barkeep cocked his head to his side as the guards questioned him. Whether or not he’d had anyone staying. Of course he spoke only the truth, but made it clear the four hadn’t even left.

The morning started, for the troupe of four, with men bursting into their room. Fully armed and arresting them. Much to the barkeep’s protests. Something about ‘they didn’t do it’ and ‘couldn’t have done it’.

The four were ushered down the stairs before they were met up with some of the other patrons. The guards took a long, hard look at the troupes together. “So. Four of you assaulted a noble last night.” instantly the four humans in the bar just pointed towards the four roommates.

The barkeep threw his hands up. “There’s no possible way it was this lot!” He spat. “Three of them were upstairs before the brawl even started! I checked on them when I locked up, they were here!” He wasn’t fond of monster folk, but he wasn’t about to throw a paying customer under the bus when they did no wrong. It damaged the reputation to do that.

“You checked. But I bet ya the bard tipped them off and snuck out last night with ‘em. Look at ‘im. Covered from head to toe. Bet he’s another demon breed.” One of the four men spat.

The tiefling raised his hands with a soft smile. “Alright. Alright. Why don’t you just ask the noble to describe his assailants?”

One of the guards snorted. “We would. If his jaw wasn’t shattered in three places.” He glared at the troupe, his eyes landed specifically on the half orc woman. The covered one took a moment to breath, and raised a hand.

“What about his body guards?”

“Pissed their armour and ran. Turns out they were just a pair of spoiled brats.” The barkeep answered. The guard gave him a chafing look. “I ain’t goin’ ta lie. ‘Specially not ta the law.” The man shrugged with a mocking tone.

Still the guards were hesitant. One eventually tried to uncover the bards face. This was met with a surprising amount of resistance. His attempt was only successful enough to see a pointed ear behind the cloak darker than most. That did not help matters. There was much debate with the barkeep vehemently defending the four strangers.

Finally the little lizard slapped his hand on the counter. That was, the side of the counter, just below stool height. “FINE! I’ll tell you what. If you must blame us. This lot and I will find some actual proof we didn’t do it.”

“Thank you for volunteering us to solve and assault where we’re the prime witnesses. Shall we lick the lord’s boots in addition?” The bard jeered. The Kobold looked to take that as a genuine response. He was about to open his mouth when the shackles were placed on each of his wrists.

“Just arrest them all.” One guard sighed. The large woman stammered something as they were led out behind the guard. Much to the barkeep’s protests.

The woman finally got her words under her. “Wait why? We didn’t do anything wrong!” She spluttered. There was no point to it as they were ushered out into the street. It was a bright and sunny day. Which, for four people more accustomed to dark environments, was terrible.

The sun burned their eyes as they were led through the most public route. Probably to be jeered at by strangers. Some folk were happy enough to curse them out. Others were more fearful. There was a small lot that just observed with mild curiosity.

The jailhouse was worse. Much to the confusion of the inhuman band, there was no weapons check. It then occurred to them that their effects were still at the bar. Finally, the band of humans were led into a room behind the front entry way and to the left. The others were locked in a small cell. Made to sit together.

The little one was shackled to the half orc woman. The horned one to the bard. They sat in complete silence for a while. Finally the woman sighed. “Mama always said there’d be days like these.” She dropped her head into her hands, lifting the small creature from his seat and in the air.

The lizard eyed her from his dangling position. “Could be worse. You could be too small to fit in the cell.” He spat.

The bard groaned. He wanted to rub his temples with both hands, but only had access to one. The Tiefling scoffed. “Well, in the event they forget we’re down here-”

“That can happen?” the girl yelped.

“-IN the event that does happen, I’d like to know the names of the three I slept with last night. And will probably sleep with for the rest of my life.” The covered elf scoffed, he tried to fold his arms when his bound arm was yanked towards the other man. “Thank you for volunteering first!”

The glare from the bard could have melted the bars. “Merrits.” He enunciated every syllable with venom. The Tiefling grinned, then looked to the half orc woman.

“A-Amelia. My name is Amelia.” She shot a small smile to the men before muttering. “Nice to meet you.”

The little one sparked up with a mighty cackle. “Fear not compatriots for you are in the presence of Quiho the red!” He swung himself up on his chain to perch on the half orc woman’s forearm. “We shall not be forgotten!”

The tiefling clapped his hands together, dragging Merrits along. “That’s the spirit!”

“And you are?” Merrits yanked his arm towards himself, though it was harder to move the Tiefling.

The man flinched. He glanced out the barred door, but with all three sets of eyes on him he wasn’t likely to avoid the conversation. “I suppose that’s fair. I... Well just call me Creature.” He shrugged sheepishly. Merrits eyed him a moment, then shook his head.

“Given to you by the human parent?” Amelia asked in a small voice.

Creature shook his head with a fond smile. “Someone else. Don’t worry about it.” By that time, a heavy door slammed open. Four guards entered, half asleep and bleary. They weren’t the ones who made the arrest, Merrits noticed. In fact, they looked outright fat and lazy in comparison.

The four were collected, and taken to another room. With plenty of whispering among them. They were led to the same room as the other four men. Who were sitting shackled to four chairs. They too were sat in their seats. A woman of pale blond hair sat in front of them behind a desk. She looked disgusted by the recent entries.

“I doubt this will be necessary, but the law insists.” She began. Her voice then turned to a very methodical chant. A tug pulled at Merrit’s mind. He winced, but found he couldn’t quite push back on what ever was being placed on him.

There was a gut feeling that whatever happened, he wouldn’t be able to lie about... anything. A pit formed in his stomach. The woman looked smug, then distraught. She slammed her hand down on the table. “I want the orc, and the tiefling removed.

They were pulled from the chamber roughly. Amelia stammered uselessly while Creature attempted to shush her. Merrits was almost sad to see them go. Quiho stood in his chair with his hands on his hips, snapping the man out of his confusion.

“I demand to know where you’re taking my underlings!”

“They work for you?” Merrits interrupted.

Quiho scoffed. “No. But everyone is an underling to me.” He blinked in confusion, then hissed at the woman. “What did you do?”

She folded her hands a stern look on her features. “You know quite well. Now. Where were you during the assault on the young earl?”

Merrits answered first. He felt like he couldn’t lie, but he had no intent to in the first place. “I was at the inn. Shortly after his arrival I purchased my room for the night. You may ask the barkeep for confirmation. The four you arrested with me were already bedding down by the time I arrived.”

The woman scowled. She folded her hands and motioned to Quiho. “Is this true?”

“You know it is! He can’t lie!” The kobold jumped up and down on his chair. “Look. What’s the point of all this if you’re just going to question us? Why not that group of fools?” Quiho was beyond angry now, his little body trembled with only rage.

The woman scoffed. “And no one woke in the middle of the night? Are you sure of this?”

“Quite sure. I wasn’t asleep. I did not leave the room either, before you ask.” Merrits folded one leg over the other and sighed.

“You rented a room to just sit around then? Why? What manner of beast doesn’t sleep?” The woman was growing agitated, a small part of Merrits wanted to backtrack his statement and placate her anger. Instead he shrugged.

“I am of Elvish decent. While I don’t sleep, I do enter a sort of extended meditation. I prefer a safe location to do so.” Merrits loathed to admit such things. He clasped his hands together. “I know the others spent the night there because I didn’t leave. We did not harm the earl.”

Frustrated, the guards-woman turned to the troupe, she growled out. “Well then, what happened that night?” While the interrogation continued, both Quiho and Merrits were dismissed. Much to the displeasure of the woman inside.

Quiho grumbled and spat the whole walk. His unsightly little snout, shifted in a most fascinating way through three separate languages. Merrits only spoke the two, but he could make out the gist of it. None of it could be repeated in polite company. As they returned to their cell, they found both Amelia and Creature already being uncuffed. The guards looked rather perturbed.

None the less, all four were released into the daybreak. Merrits groaned miserably as he was pulled along by Amelia. He allowed the contact as he could see nothing else. “That was quite lucky. Zone of truth! I would never have thought of using such a spell like that!” She chirped.

Quiho chuffed happily. “Well it only makes sense! Though humans are feeble minded, they certainly have creative uses for magic, don’t they? Any how, I’d much rather gather my effects and leave this forsaken Town soon.”

“Agreed. Before they try to pin some other crime on our number.” Merrits spat. “I suppose after the inn, we shall part ways.”

Amelia shifted her weight a little before she threw her hands out in front of the group. “Well, if that’s the plan, then at least let me treat the two of you to breakfast. You both went through the trouble of vouching for Creature and myself. It’s the least I can do!”

Creature checked his purse, nodded once, then held it up with a grin. “I’ll get in on this. Come on you two, Ams and I owe you at least a stack of pancakes!” He dropped his arm over Merrits’ shoulder casually, while Amelia picked Quiho up on to her own.

Merrits just followed along with nothing but confusion. “Pancakes?” Was all he could mutter before he was essentially kidnapped. As it turned out, Merrits had a complicated relationship with pancakes. He enjoyed them much more without the sweet substance, as it was a hassle to get around the scarf. Though he did dip his bites in a small bowl of jam they were given.

After the meal was prepared, the barkeep sidled over. He placed the three silver each patron paid on the table. “You paid for a safe place to stay, and you didn’t get it. Three of you may be monsters and one of you is just fuckin’ weird, but I’m an honest man. I don’t take pay I didn’t earn.”

Amelia grimaced, she slid the coin back to the barkeep with an open smile. “Well, I owe you for the pancakes any how.” The man nodded, and left without another word. The four sat in uneasy silence after that. The green one chewed on his fork thoughtfully while the half orc silently ate. Merrits too, held his warm drink in his hands and only thought.

It was Quiho who broke the silence when he cleared his throat. “Well. Thank you for the meal, your loyalty will not be forgotten.” He stood abruptly, and plopped down from the seat. “I’m off to catch a criminal.”

Amelia jerked upright. “Wait, you are?”

“If it’s not done, more innocents will be blamed. I can’t abide such foolishness.” The Kobold scoffed. “I’ll be sure the perpetrator burns for their carelessness.”

Amelia stood next to the little fellow. “I’m coming too. Mama always said, hurt the people who earned it but don’t let the rest suffer.” She beamed. “So I’m not going to.”

Merrits sighed. He debated with himself before he too stood. He wasn’t fond of being blamed. The boy was alive. He could testify, and curiosity got the better of the bard. He had to know just who’s crime he’d been pinned for. Besides, it could also mean a bit of traveling money in return. “You’ll want to start with the victim. I might be able to patch the boy up.”

Creature just laughed brightly. He sat back in his chair and watched the events unfold. A mistake on his part, as he caught the attention of Amelia, who was growing more and more bright with each word the others said. “What about you?” She beamed.

The tiefling waved her off. “I can’t be bothered. Unlike the rest of you, I have other obligations.” The half orc deflated a little. Her shoulders slumped just slightly. Something that did not go unnoticed by her companions.

“Such as?” Quiho demanded. A wicked smile shot on his little muzzle. His little visibly ran a mile a minute before Merrits’ eyes.

“I’m here at the behest of my employer to pick up a statue. That’s all.” Creature stood slowly and placed a larger sum of money on the table. “Can’t be gallivanting off and making her wait.” He shifted his sword on his belt and ensured his affects were not tampered with.

Quiho hummed to himself. “Pity. I’d hate for you to miss out on the reward. Catching a criminal who acted on a noble is very lucrative.” Creature paused. He fidgeted with a piece of jewelry as he thought if over.

Merrits could see the consideration in his eyes. He, like everyone else he met in these parts, kept his emotions on full display, unaware of even the broadest of expressions he made. “It may also bolster your employer’s reputation. Perhaps you could bring her more than just a desired statue and sway her favor among this town.”

He wasn’t really sure why he even bothered arguing for the man to join them. He hadn’t witnessed anything useful from him. He could keep his head in a stressful situation sure enough, and was far more social. Perhaps that was why. Someone had to do the talking. Other than Quiho.

Finally, Creature held up a hand. “I will contact my employer. If she gives me permission, I’ll join you in your hunt. If not, then I wish you all good luck.” Roughly an hour passed, and the four had paid their silver for another night in the room when they returned.

#Dungeons and dragons #original characters #My work #And yes there's a green tiefling

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raindrenchedstories · 1 year

Text

A small meeting Part 2

“I guess I walked into that.” Otis folded his hands on the table and tried to steady his nerves. He drummed his fingers, trying to force the words he felt most important to the surface.

Richter beat him to it. “You’ve got time. Think your questions through. Go wash up, and get back to us.” He stood slowly to end the conversation. “Neil and I have a few Familiar’s tasks to do. You’ll find me in the garden, and Neil in the workshop outside.”

Both men left shortly after, and Otis was alone. He decided it was time to explore the enclosure a bit. See how the two men actually lived. He’d heard stories of them. He wanted to verify those at least.

Otis strode about the house in a lost daze. The layout was confusing to say the least. Far from the cells he’d known all his life, or the shelf he claimed in Pril’s den for the time being. The front door lead out to a table top garden. There was spare space to accommodate a pathway, but the rest was all flowers and vegetables. Past that, were rows of saplings that Richter was currently working on outside.

Inside, the house house had a kitchen, with the utilities on a back wall, almost built in. Otis noticed that the house it’s self was made of rough stone. It was a poor conductor of heat, and had a chill to it. Yet every room was cozy in it’s own way.

Adjacent to the kitchen was a study of sorts. It was filled with utilitarian books, and two desks facing away from one another. Otis wasn’t really able to read, but he could make out the images on the covers. Books about plants and minerals lined two sides of one wall. Between those were bestiaries. Leaning against the opposite wall was a series of over stuffed pillows, and a small table. They looked well used.

Otis crossed the room, and found yet another room of books. Those were lined on every wall, only just avoiding the window that allowed for natural light. The books inside were less organized, and strewn about randomly, The only consistency from the last room was the low table and pillows.

This was how his heroes lived? Reading books and laying about? No. He could see Richter working. He called it a ‘familiar’s task’ so it had something to do with his position. Otis left the room, and made his way back to the west side of the house. He found a lavatory behind a staircase, which was small and utilitarian. It was well used but was built like an after thought. Particularly because the ceiling slanted in an uncomfortable manner above the toilet.

He followed the stairs upwards, and found another hallway. It led to four distinct rooms. The first he opened was a neat, organized bedroom. Though he was uninvited Otis entered just a step.

The bed was tightly made, and the shelves were an organized collection of items. There was yet another book shelf of tomes. Otis wasn’t a sorcerer himself, but he could feel the magic radiating off those books. They were unhappy things, that did not like intruders. He took another glance around the room to distract himself.

Aside from a neatly organized desk, and worn chair, there wasn’t much else to look at. Otis cleared his throat, and retreated, he closed the door respectfully, and made his way across the hall.

It was yet another bedroom, but by no means was it as tidy. Pillows and blankets were littered about, there was a series of discarded satchels laying in a heap, and clothing flung to every corner. There was no true ‘bed’ per say. Instead was a large, circular pillow, with a raised portion for a sort of back. It was big enough for two people to sprawl out fully.

“Otis.” His own name made the man spin about, he readied a fist, and came face to shoulder with Richter. The man set a firm look over him, then eased his shoulders and leaned back. “Are you lost?” He offered a small, forced smile.

Otis shut the door behind him as he stepped into the hallway. He glanced back regretfully. “Yes.” Was all he could say. Richter folded his arms, he tilted his head in an exaggerated manner, his eyes going a touch wider than Otis was used to seeing in a typical expression.

“Oh. Well what are you looking for?” Richter’s body slackened further, fully relaxed again.

“Bath. To wash.” Otis motioned over his disheveled form. Richter glanced him over and offered a soft laugh.

“Well you won’t find that in my room. As nice as it would be. Come on.” He led Otis the the room beside what was apparently Neil’s room. And Otis found himself more confused.

“You... Live like that?” He couldn’t stop himself from saying it, and almost instantly regretted it. He bit the inner wall of his cheek when Richter burst into laughter.

The taller man started to run the bath for Otis while he answered. “Yeah. I know it’s a wreck. Most of the time I’m too busy to make the bed. It’s literally the one room I don’t focus on cleaning. Well, I don’t clean Neil’s either.”

He stood and turned towards Otis. “Now, While I have you here. I have a few questions for you too.”

#Richter #Otis #Neil #Foreverhome cast

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raindrenchedstories · 1 year

Text

I’ve had a discovery about Pam.

Apparently she speaks giant. No idea where she learned it.

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raindrenchedstories · 1 year

Text

Drabble 5 The dogtor is in

This was supposed to be an exercise bouncing Pam off Bear. But it’s more like Pam discovering she hates being ‘tiny’. Oh, and Bear can talk to animals.

Pam sat with her arms folded. She had no idea how to approach this situation. “Okay so. Run this past me one last time here.” She tried.

The massive man in front of her knelt in front of her. They’d met in the forest apparently the night before. Pam could confirm she knew his scent. But the tricky thing about a full moon was the lack of memories that came with them. She’d perched herself on a root while the giant loomed over her.

“Alright. I require your services as a medical practitioner as I have a very sick human who needs looking after. Last night you told me you were capable of doing so, but only in the morning when your hands were human once more.” Gentile eyes observed her for any sort of reaction.

Pam took a deep breath. “And... How did I tell you this? If you saw me last night, you know I’m not exactly the most talkative on a full moon.” She waved a helpless hand towards a well chewed stick. She was still rolling bits of bark between her tongue and teeth.

“Perhaps to human ears. Forest giants like myself are capable of communicating with animals with the right spells.” He almost reached out to ruffle Pam’s hair, and was stopped part way when she pushed his finger tip. She couldn’t exactly overpower him, but he was polite enough to get the hint.

“Did I tell you I had to quit med school due to my condition?” She hated her full moon self for volunteering her like that.

The giant nodded. “You did, you were quite transparent with that fact. However, beggars can’t be choosers. I doubt I’ll be lucky enough to borrow a fully trained human doctor for this.”

Borrow, that was a funny word for ‘kidnapped’ yet she couldn’t really blame him. Mythicals like them had little choice in the matter. Pam sighed. She knew the rules regarding this too. “Alright. But you’ll owe me a favor. And I’ll need a moment to reach out to my contacts and let them know I’m safe.”

“Do you need any of your supplies as well?” The giant sat himself fully down and waited.

“We’ll see. Depending on how bad the patient is I might just take them to a hospital if I can’t handle it myself. Are we clear?” She stood herself up and dusted her rump of the many wood chips and small bugs that decided to cling to her.

“Perfectly.”

With that, Pam called the only person who even knew she was a werewolf, and let her know the situation. She also let her know to be on standby for a hospital trip if the patient was too bad.

Finally, she turned to the giant. “Lead the way, big guy.” He stood fully, and leaned down a hand to her. Pam scampered back quickly. “LEAD don’t CARRY.”

The giant shook his head. “Not acceptable. It’s too far to ask anyone your size to walk. I promise you’re not the first person I’ve carried.”

Pam glanced between the giants eyes, to his hand. Finally she bit the bullet, and awkwardly shuffled into his grasp. They were off like a shot, Faster than Pam was comfortable thinking about. She also was highly unnerved to see trees from so high up. She wasn’t exactly afraid of heights. She just had a healthy appreciation for gravity.

To say she was thankful when they arrived, and she was placed nicely on a sort of table, would be an understatement. She hadn’t expected the giant to live under a mountain, but she couldn’t see it any other way really. The kitchen was pleasantly made up to accommodate someone who enjoyed cooking. Thus large and sprawling.

The fact that there was something akin to a doll house on the kitchen island was a little unsettling. But Pam assumed that her patient was inside. She took very little time adjusting, and marched for the building.

Though in reality, she just desperately wanted to be somewhere scaled for her. She came into the house with a deep breath, and located the man via a rattling cough from the living room. He looked a little startled to see her. The man was well toned, and about as tall as she was. Which was rare to say the least. His brown eyes hazily focused on her face.

For the most part, he looked miserable, but active. A good sign at least. Pam cleared her throat. “Hello. I’m Pam. I will be your... Well I don’t have a doctorate but I’m playing that role today.” She sat beside the man on the sofa.

There was a pile of tissues about and Pam could already guess at the symptoms. “Have you had any fever?”

“No.” The man blinked blearily.

“Sore throat?” She could already guess by the scratchy tone in his voice.

“Yep.”

“Stuffy nose?” At this he let off a weak sneeze. “I’m going to guess that’s a yes.”

“I kept telling him it was just a cold.” The man complained, waving his hands about. “Some ginger ale and chicken noodle soup and I’ll be just fine!”

Pam chuckled to herself. “Yeah, pretty much. But if you can stomach it, water would be a better choice. Maybe some cut up fruit in it, get a little more vitamins in you. Do you have any ginger or mint tea?”

“No.” The man folded in on himself, and let off a miserable little sneeze. “I’d kill for a T.V in here. But we can’t exactly get a package without freaking people out.”

“Do you have power down here? I didn’t see any normal lights.” Pam looked out the window, and shuddered. She couldn’t stand the sight of a coffee mug roughly big enough for her to bathe in. It was just casually sitting there. She chose to look higher instead. The lights were indeed, anything but electrical.

“Nope. Hey, you should probably go before you catch this.”

“I don’t think werewolves can get the common cold.” Pam commented dryly she ambled out the door, and yelled at the giant to go get certain things. These included books, tea, and soup ingredients . Afterwards, she set up the patient, ‘Richter’ apparently, comfortably on the couch. She made sure he had everything in reach, and gave him a small bell for him to ring if he needed her.

was shown to a breadbox that would serve as her bedroom. She walked into his kitchen which was, in comparison the the room he freaking lived in, utilitarian. Small and to the point. She grimaced. “Can’t ask too much of a doll’s house I guess.” She muttered to herself.

Pam set to making the soup patiently, after getting used to using a water tap for hamsters, that is. She had to hold the thing down just to get enough water in the pot. She supposed they couldn’t run a pipeline to the table. Cutting the vegetables was an easy task, the giant didn’t give her chicken to cook with, but if he could speak to animals, she could understand his hesitance.

Still, her obligate carnivore ass wouldn’t make it long like that. She made up a hearty vegetable broth with what she had, and brought that to her patient. The next step was the tea, which he sipped at happily.

Eventually, she was shown to her own little place of sleep, after insisting Richter leave a window open so she could hear him. She was given a breadbox. A literal breadbox. She didn’t make a comment about it out loud, but she was in fact, enraged by this.

Couldn’t at least give her a BED?? Pam sighed as she curled into her nest of blankets. Over the next day, Richter’s health improved, and he could eventually look after himself enough for Pam to go home. So she only really spent a night and half a day there. Pam was delighted to be home.

Until she sneezed.

Richter brought her some real chicken noodle soup in her own home, and gave a small chuckle. “So I guess werewolves CAN get the common cold.”

“Shut it.”

#G/t #Sick fic sorta #Richter #Bear #Pam #Humor

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raindrenchedstories · 1 year

Text

A familiar task

So I’ve stated that both Neil and Richter are “Familiars”. But never really expanded on that. Nor did I expand on Bear’s abilities. He’s a ‘forest giant’ but what does that actually mean? Where does Richter play in with that?

This is set post Forever Home. Same world.

Richter’s boots crunched through leaf litter carefully. He adjusted his satchel with his trowel in hand. He kicked aside a few leaves with a huff. Neil followed along with a curious glance. “No good?”

Richter shook his head. “Too much gravel.” He shrugged.

Neil folded his arms with a smirk. “You know I can fix that, right?” He held his hand out with a wiggle of his fingers. “Just give me a handful and I’ll-”

“It’s not the softness that’s the problem, it’s the nutrients in the soil. We’re looking for something loamy. Soft. Preferably with a good amount of detritus. I thought the leaf litter was a good sign but of course not.” He cast a glance over the ruins of yet another city. His heart dropped. He hardly remembered these streets any more. To make it worse this place was completely unrecognizable.

Neil clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Okay, How about we move a few feet over either left or right? This used to be a park, so this area might have been a path.” The shorter man pointed the area out on his map. “See?”

Richter gave a nod, and forced himself to pick through yet another area. The park was overgrown with weeds and saplings. He caught a glimpse of an old playground, he remembered it being so big back in the day. Now it was covered in birds nests and laced with tree branches.

Richter almost laughed when he realized it was very much like his climbing set back home. Until he heard the shuffling of rubber against gravel. Neil flinched. His eyes landed on the set as well, and his hand readied beside him.

Richter waved him off. “Forget about it. We’re not looking for a fight.” He ushered Neil away from the playground. Three people started to climb out from their shelter.

Two women, and a man. They watched the pair leave, and Richter couldn’t help but consider his current position. Neil glanced back, and gave a short wave. The trio retreated. “Well, good to see some things never change.” He sighed.

Richter stopped short, the soil under his feet felt perfect. He knelt and scooped a handful. “And yet, some things never stay the same. He retorted.” He took his trowel and dug the soil into several small containers in his bag. With a sigh, he stood. His task was complete, and he could return home now.

“So we’re bringing this back?” Neil followed behind with a glance to the soil it’s self. “Doesn’t look like much.”

“Listen man, I’m not going to question Bear. He said just these, so that’s all I’m bringing back. Besides, do you want to lug home a garden’s worth of soi-” A large clump of earth was raised well above Neil’s head, held aloft by magic. “Just the containers. That’s all he said.”

The dirt was put back where it belonged, and Neil shrugged. “Why does he need it from here specifically? Between our guys, the mountain is the most fertile place for a garden I’ve ever seen.”

“Ask Bear, not me. Could you do the thing?” Neil sighed, and clapped his hands together, a large circle appeared around his feet, small runes began to swirl about it. Richter deftly stepped into the middle and took the time to look behind him. The playground people were back, staring in awe at them.

There was a flicker then a burst. The pair found themselves dropping right into a saucer on the table. Neil had it worse, as he fell right into Archibald’s tea. Richter just dropped onto the actual saucer and bounced off a biscuit.

There was a worried scuffle as Archibald extricated Neil from the unexpected bath. The other man was examined for any kind of injury, none but his pride. Bear had been called just in case.

The man arrived with his reading glasses on, and a look of worry. Richter sloughed off his bag and sat patiently in waiting. He made a point to steal a bit of Archibald’s biscuit as they fussed over his companion.

Of course Bear noticed this, and gave the human a little disproving frown. Richter just waved casually in response. He pointed to his bag and mouthed ‘got them’ to his master with a grin.

Bear gave a short nod and finally, a very angry Neil was released. Richter finished his pilfered bite before Archibald noticed. He dropped the samples in front of the forest giant with a grin.

“Are these good enough?”

Bear eyed the tiny pots quizzically, Richter wasn’t sure how he could even work at that scale, they were seedling pots, so small enough to be held in a single human hand. Bear plucked one up between his fingers, and nodded slowly.

“Perfect. Now Archibald, Neil? Please stay here in the library. I’ll be taking Richter with me.” He held out a hand for his human, and Richter scurried up with the rest of the equipment in hand.

The mountain felt so much more like home now. Richter was surprised at the amount of rooms Archibald had carved out for their living. From what Neil had told him, the place originally was a two room affair. Now it was a full mansion. Two libraries, filled with books twice as tall as Richter. A full living room with furniture they both picked out. The kitchen was it’s own room now, and they had a dining room to boot.

Richter and Neil had been moved into a sort of ‘aviary’ and Richter’s former enclosure had become a full garden built into the wall. He liked to keep the old ‘mouse cage’ about just as a reminder of times past, but it was modified by Richter’s request. The clear walls were covered, and the whole set up was sunk into a wall.

But the one room he loved the most, was Bear’s gardening room. He had several rows of saplings, and massive flowers all budding in there. He’d shown Richter all of it, and taught him how to use his own magical abilities there. He also would set Richter to tasks that were easier for him, than Bear.

Richter was often sent out on hikes to gather seeds and soil. As well as any interesting plant samples he found. Bear would take those into his garden room and work on them.

The room was filled to the brim with tables of soil and water. Like little irrigated fields. Though they were full sized for Richter, who was deposited in the middle of one. Instantly he started removing the samples and sat over them.

In the center or the room was a large wooden table, where Bear delicately collected a pouch of seeds from. Acorns, apparently. He placed them by Richter, who began planting them instantly.

He’d learned over the last while, that Bear was one of the reasons there even were enchanted forests. The beard and long hair wasn’t just for aesthetic. Growing much like the magical stone on Archibald’s back and shoulders, was a substance in Bear’s hair. It clung to him like pollen, and would shed naturally over time. But if intentionally activated, a single hair could fully enchant certain plant life. Some even became full on wandering trees.

Initially Richter had expected these trees to talk, but if they did, it wasn’t any language his spells could translate. Richter watched as Bear placed his hand over the seed pots. He lifted them with extreme care, which was to be expected, and held them under his chin, specifically under his beard.

He treated each of them like an individual life, as he chanted softly. Richter could never make it out, as the arcane language was more of the soul than actual speech so he focused instead on weeding a patch of unsuspecting strawberries. And perhaps sneaking a few berries for sampling.

Soon enough, Bear placed down the little samples full of tiny saplings. Richter swore one moved. He sighed. “So why from that park specifically?” He sat himself in front of another plant and idly picked weeds.

He didn’t get very far this time, as Bear scooped him into a cupped hand. “It’s a reclamation project. Bring some life to the human cities so they become less dangerous to small folk. It’s best they start in the soil they’ll call home.”

“Should I mention that we saw a few survivors living in the park there?” Richter popped one last stolen berry into his mouth, and earned and exasperated glare.

“Richter. I just fed you.”

“And I am a habitual snacker. You didn’t answer my question.” He gestured to the giant to continue.

Bear could only shake his head. “Officially, I’d have to report it. So they can be rescued. Where were they exactly?”

Richter grimaced. He didn’t exactly like to rat out his own kind. He wasn’t fond of losing the responsibility act case. And he knew well that being captured was a traumatic experience no matter the intent. “Couldn’t they just set up a center and call people over like normal disaster relief?”

“Ricky.”

Richter sighed. “They might have moved upon seeing us, but they were about three streets down from the park. In a big grey building, there was an awning on the south side.” He lied. He didn’t like lying to Bear, but he also knew is late father would haunt him if he didn’t.

Of course, Bear himself was probably going to omit the report. He wasn’t a fan of kidnapping people either. Still they knew well that the laws were strict on this. Richter just shrugged. “But they could have moved, like I said.”

“Of course. So then, cookies?” Bear offered as they left the garden room.

“And tea if you’re offering!”

#Richter #Bear #G/t #Foreverhome #At least same setting #Neil #Archibald

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