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uhhhhjhfrogs · 1 year

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Uhh a quick lil 1.8k of Corroded Coffin Steddie | ao3

Eddie woke up to Steve running his fingers through his hair, he purred like a cat and buried his face in Steve’s chest, “can I just stay here forever?”

Steve chuckled softly and Eddie luxuriated in the vibration, “I mean forever is a long time but the rest of this Sunday seems doable.”

“I can’t Sunday I have…” Eddie's eyes snapped open and he sat up abruptly, “band practice! Shit!”

“Since when do you have band practice on a Sunday?” Steve pouted as he watched Eddie scramble out of bed, grabbing whatever clothes he got his hands on first.

“Since you seduced me into skipping practice on Thursday.”

Steve smirked to himself, “I don’t remember you complaining.”

“Well my mouth was pretty busy if you remember,” Eddie scoffed as he hopped around the room pulling up his pants.

Steve sat up in bed to watch him, leaning against the headboard, the sheets pooled around his waist and bare chest on display, all Eddie wanted to do was crawl in between his legs and take him under the sheets again but he had already flaked once that week he couldn’t flake again. Instead he groaned and came to Steve’s side of the bed, tilting his chin up to kiss him sweetly, “it’s torture leaving you dear but maybe you want to come by practice later? In like an hour or two? Watch us play a little bit?”

Steve hummed and kissed him again, “yeah sounds fun, but you should go now if you don’t want to be late.”

“What would I do without you?” Eddie grinned, giving him one more kiss before sprinting out the door. And if Steve didn’t mention how half the clothes Eddie had grabbed had been his? Well he would find out when his friends asked why he was wearing a Hawkins Varsity Swim shirt and Steve’s boxers.

____

Eddie was only 10 minutes late to practice rather than his usual 20, Steve must be a good influence on him. The rest of the guys were already there but they were still setting up so Eddie quickly put his stuff down and started setting up his own sweetheart.

They all started tuning their instruments and tuning turned into a little bit of a jam and then Eddie transitioned into the opening of one of their songs and they were off. It was messy and a little uncoordinated, but their first song at practice always was. It was fun though and Eddie jumped around like they were playing for an actual audience instead of just the garden gnomes in Gareth’s garage. All that jumping in Gareth’s sauna of a garage and Eddie was already sweating, he shed the jacket he had come in with and decided to play the rest of practice in just his tshirt; or what he thought was his tshirt.

“Is that Steve Harrington’s shirt?” Gareth questioned from behind his drum set.

“What?” Eddie looked down and realized that in his haste to get to practice in time he had picked up Steve’s shirt instead of his own, ‘Hawkins Swim and Dive’ plastered across his chest in varsity font. “This isn’t Steve’s… I must’ve swiped this from the locker room a while back, I was in a rush to get here on time - wasn’t looking at what I was grabbing.”

“Dude. It literally says Harrington on the back, why are you lying about this?”

“Shit. Uh I guess it is Steve’s then, whatever, maybe he left it at my house, should we do ‘stagnant’ next? We should practice it for the gig next weekend.”

It was a shameless segue but it worked, they dropped their line of questioning and practice went back to normal for a little while. Until Eddie dropped his pick and had to crouch down to pick it up.

“Who’s boxers are those!” Gareth threw his drumstick towards the revealing gap between Eddie’s shirt that was riding up and his pants that were riding down.

“What the fuck does that mean? My own?”

Jeff stepped forward and put a hand on Eddie’s shoulder, “Eddie, I think I can speak for all of us when I say, we’ve seen you in your underwear enough to know that those are not yours, so whose are they?”

“Maybe I bought new underwear? Have you considered that?” Eddie crossed his arms defensively.

They all burst out laughing and Eddie pouted at them, “I don’t know what’s so funny.”

“I literally gave you underwear for your last birthday because you never buy them yourself.”

“Think if we checked the waistband there would be a nice little ‘S. Harrington’ embroidered in script?”

“No!” Eddie squeaked, because he knew it was there.

Gareth stood up and came around his drum set,“I think we know what we have to do boys.”

The other two nodded in unison, “It must be done.”

The boys started wrestling, trying to pin Eddie down and he was scrappy but 3-on-1 is never fair and soon enough Eddie was immobilized under the weight of his entire band sitting on top of him.

“Holy shit I was joking but it’s real, he’s wearing Steve Harrington's underwear.”

Eddie braced himself for the next logical leap, for them realizing that he and Steve were dating and all the questions that came from it but instead Jeff just laughed, “I can’t believe you stole Harrington’s underwear, like we know you’ve had a thing for Harrington since Sophomore year but we didn’t know you were so desperate that you’d stoop so low to a panty raid.”

Gareth grinned, “this is great blackmail material.”

“What? you’re going to blackmail me because I’m gay? That’s kind of homophobic of you guys.” Eddie said as he tried to wiggle out from under them.

“Not because you’re gay, we would’ve done this if you stole a girls underwear too, it’s the underwear theft itself which is the blackmail material, like sure everyone had a crush on Steve Harrington at some point in their lives but I doubt more than a few went so far as to steal his underwear.”

They finally let him up and Eddie just rolled his eyes, “ok whatever, I don’t care.”

“You’re saying you don’t care if Harrington finds out that you like him soooo much that you stole his underwear?”

“No I don’t care, especially because I know you’ll never have the guts to actually tell him.”

“I mean he kind of has a point there, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you even stand within five feet of Steve Harrington.”

“Ooh your ears must be burning!” Gareth’s mom laughed as she led Steve into the garage, “Steve Harrington is here, asking for Eddie.”

“Hi, Eddie said I could watch you practice today.” Steve waved.

All the band members looked at Eddie with wicked smirks.

Eddie kicked his band mates in the shins subtly as he crossed to Steve, “Yeah, we were just gonna start going through our set list for the next show, you can sit on the couch over there.”

“Cool.” Steve smiled and settled on the couch to watch.

Thankfully, the band valued rehearsal over the potential humiliation of their lead singer and they followed Eddie’s lead-in to their set list. Going through the set list and fixing all the mistakes they made along the way took another hour and afterwards the boys were beat. Eddie dropped to the floor where he was, sprawling on the floor with Jeff, Gareth spun around on his stool and Kurt sat on the couch with Steve.

Eddie popped his head up and grinned at Steve, “so what did you think?”

“Loud,” Steve chuckled, “but really cool, there were some new songs in there right?”

“You know our music well enough to know which songs are new?” Gareth leaned over his drums.

“Yeah, Eddie gave me some of your tapes.”

“And you listened to them?”

Steve furrowed his brow, “yeah? What else would I do with them?”

“Huh.”

Breaking the awkward tension that had begun seeping into the room, Jeff popped his head up, “Do we have any beer?”

_____

A couple beers in all the guys were a lot more relaxed, Steve had slotted into the dynamic between them surprisingly well. Eventually Jeff had enough of the puppy dog eyes Eddie was giving Steve so he decided to stir the pot, “so what do you think of Eddie’s wardrobe today, Steve? Think we should add more jock style to the band?”

“I think you should,” Steve snorted, “imagine, you could be the only metal band out there in varsity jackets.”

“Yeah? You think so, Harrington? Would you lend all of us various athletic paraphernalia?”

“Playing multiple sports since middle school has prepared me for this,” he nodded solemnly, “if you wanted to you could all take a different sport even.”

Eddie laughed, “ok but I want your letterman jacket.” He shot Steve a secret little smile, he’s worn Steve’s letterman jacket before, he’s worn only Steve’s letterman jacket before, and he didn’t want any of his other band mates tainting that memory.

Kurt pouted,”aw you already got his underwear! I want the jacket.”

“Oh come on! There goes our blackmail dummy.”

“Your what?” Steve chuckled.

“Oh shit. Sorry Eddie, we really didn’t plan on saying anything, it just slipped. Fuck! Sorry man.”

“I told you guys, I don’t care if you try and tell Steve.”

“Are you sure? Because I think it’s so funny.”

“Go ahead” Eddie made a flourish with his hand from the floor.

“Hey Steve-“

“Yeah?”

“You know Eddie is wearing your boxers right now?” The band burst out laughing and Eddie just shrugged shamelessly at Steve who was grinning like an idiot.

“Huh, wonder where he got those.” Steve chuckled.

“You don’t care if we tell him the second part either?” Gareth poked Eddie on the floor.

“No go ahead, I would argue that’s the funnier part.” Eddie smirked directly at Steve.

“Well we assume that he stole them from your house because he likes you sooo much.” They cackled like hyenas the way that only drunk 18 year olds can.

“Hmm, and Eddie, you really don’t care that they told me this?”

“Not a bit,” he gave Steve a small knowing smile.

Steve popped off the couch and for a second the band was afraid he was about to kick Eddie when he was literally down but instead he laid next to Eddie, interlaced their fingers together and smiled, “Well I think it’s a good thing he likes me so much considering we’ve been dating for about 6 months now.”

There was a moment of stunned silence before the garage erupted into pandemonium. Steve and Eddie just burst out laughing and Steve leaned over to kiss his boyfriend silly like he had wanted to ever since he saw him shred the guitar solo in the first song they played.

#stranger things #eddie munson #steddie #steve harrington #corroded coffin #fic

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ihatetheinternetandeveryoneonit · 6 months

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Gnome Tav using her Artificer skills to build a much-needed hot shower for camp. No more scrubbing in the freezing river!

Shadowheart: "I automatically trust you with all my secrets now."

Lae'zel: "Do you know where we could be showering right now?? THE GODSDAMNED CRECHE!!"

Astarion: "Well, who would have known that you gnomes are good for something? ~Care to join me?~"

Gale: *Impressed by the engineering he doesn't understand, and the spells that he understands all too well. Still can't help but give unsolicited advice on how to improve the shower*

Karlach: *Instantly vaporises the water. Gives Tav the idea to convert it into a sauna.*

Wyll: "You're the best! These new ridges in...unmentionable areas...are so hard to scrub!"

Halsin:

#astarion #halisin #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 tav #shadowheart #lae'zel #karlach #karlach bg3 #wyll #gale #gale of waterdeep #silly headcanon #artificer tav #gnome tav

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yoga-onion · 10 months

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Legends and myths about trees

Forest myths, Estonian traditional beliefs (1)

The Forested country, Estonia

Estonia is one of the most forested countries in the world. Forests cover nearly half of the mainland in Estonia, 30% of which is currently under protection.

Forest is recognised as a recurring theme in Estonian folklore, inspiring storytellers and painters that have produced beautiful landscapes. The largest forests can be found in northeastern and central Estonia, stretching from as far as the north coast to the southern border with pine, birch, spruce and aspen being the most common tree species. Estonian forests are home to a surprising variety of wildlife, often seeing hares, foxes and deer, and rarely even a wolf, lynx, bear or an elk. Rarer still are the European mink, dormouse and flying squirrel, which are unfortunately close to extinction.

In ancient forests and woodlands, the cycle of life left in nature can be observed up closely. Barely marked by any human activity, Järvselja ancient forest in southern Estonia is a home to species of owl and a gracefully aged 360-year-old Kuningamänd pine tree. Poruni hiking trail in northern Estonia winds along the 10-metre banks of Poruni river, where a mix of fallen tree trunks giving life to new and at times rare plant species can be found.

In the harsh northern weather conditions, trees have been the source of livelihood for centuries. While some trees were used for building houses and saunas, some were considered holy and remained untouched.

A sacred grove usually consists of deciduous trees and attracted offerings for gnomes, fairies and other supernatural forces of past times. Kassinurme Fort and sacred grove were established around 2000 years ago, making it one of the oldest remaining sacred places in Estonia. Nearby Rakvere has centuries old sacred oak grove.

Little is known of medieval Estonians' spiritual and religious practices before Christianization. The Chronicle of Henry of Livonia mentions Tharapita as the superior deity of the then inhabitants of Saaremaa (Oeselians). There is some historical evidence about sacred groves, especially groves of oak trees, having served as places of "pagan" worship.

(The Livonian Chronicle of Henry offers a Latin narrative of events in Livonia (roughly corresponding to today's inland Estonia and the northern part of Latvia and surrounding areas) from 1180 to 1227 by a priest named Henry. it is one of the oldest known written document about the history of Estonia and Latvia.)

木にまつわる伝説・神話

森の神話・エストニアの民間伝承 (1)

森の国エストニア

エストニアは世界で最も森林の多い国のひとつである。エストニア本土の半分近くを森林が占めている。そのうちの30％は現在保護下にある。

森はエストニアの民話に繰り返し登場するテーマであり、語り部や画家にインスピレーションを与え、美しい風景画を生み出してきた。最大の森林はエストニア北東部と中央部にあり、北海岸から南部国境まで広がっている。最も一般的な樹種はマツ、カバ、トウヒ、アスペン。エストニアの森には驚くほど多様な野生動物が生息しており、よくノウサギやキツネ、シカを見かけるが、稀にオオカミやオオヤマネコ、クマ、ヘラジカを見かけることさえある。さらに珍しいのはヨーロッパミンク、ヤマネ、ムササビで、残念ながら絶滅の危機に瀕している。

太古の森や森林地帯では、自然の成り行きに任せた生命の循環を間近に観察することができる。人間の活動がほとんど見られないエストニア南部のヤルヴセルヤ古代の森には、フクロウの一種や樹齢360年のクーニンガマント松が優雅に茂る。エストニア北部のポルニ・ハイキングコースは、ポルニ川の10メートルほどの川岸に沿って続いている。ここでは、倒れた木の幹が混在し、新しい、時には珍しい植物種に命を与えているのを見ることができる。

北国の厳しい気象条件の中で、木は何世紀にもわたって生活の糧となってきた。家やサウナを建てるために使われた木もあれば、聖なる木とされ、手つかずのまま残された木もある。

神聖な木立は通常、落葉樹で構成され、ノーム (伝説上の小人) や妖精、その他の過去の時代の超自然的な力のための供物を集めていた。カッシヌルメ要塞と聖なる森は約2000年前に設立され、エストニアに残る最古の聖地のひとつとなっている。近くのラクヴェレには何世紀もの歴史を持つ神聖なオークの木立が広がっている。

キリスト教化以前の中世エストニア人の精神的・宗教的慣習についてはほとんど知られていない。ヘンリーのリヴォニア年代記では、当時のサーレマー住民（オイセル人）の上位神としてタラピタが挙げられている。聖なる木立、特にオークの木立が「異教的」な崇拝の場として機能していたことを示す歴史的証拠もある。

(ヘンリーのリヴォニア年代記とは、1180年から1227年までのリヴォニア (現在のエストニア内陸部とラトビア北部にほぼ相当とその周辺地域) の出来事を、ヘンリーという司祭によってラテン語で記したもの。エストニアとラトビアの歴史について書かれた最古の文献のひとつである。）

#trees #tree myth #tree legend #forest #forested country #estonian mythology #folklore #sacred woodland #sacred tree #pagan worship #sacred oak grove #medieval estonian beliefs #nature #art

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unnervinglyferal · 5 months

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There's things in life you consider so obvious that you wonder why it's even necessary to specifically mention it. Things that you assume are the same for everyone, everywhere, like drinking water and sleeping at night. When you're jewish, you're just jewish. If you're a jewish atheist, a jewish agnostic, if you're a part of the tribe, you're jewish whether you believe or not, whether you practice or not, whether you keep kosher or not.

I figured that it's the same for everyone. You're a christian, muslim, pagan, however you were taught to pray, you pray the way you were taught if you choose to pray at all. This is how my people do it, so I figured this was how all households live.

My girlfriend was babtized, but doesn't consider herself a christian. As far as she is concerned, the rest of her family is the same - namely christian, but not in practice. None of them would call themselves pagan, practising or non-practising. I was prepared to fight them about it, but none of them opposed to us not having our daughter babtized. They're not concerned with keeping the family christian.

And yet, it's november and they're talking about our daughter's first christmas. Specifically, family christmas traditions, like leaving a beer for the sauna elf. This is the spot where I had to ask what the fuck is going on. I was explained the concept of the gnome of the sauna - a guardian spirit of sorts, who oversees that the sauna is used appropriately. While nobody takes this seriously, the sauna-tonttu is still a member of the family, and it would be rude to exclude it from family celebrations just because you don't really believe it exists.

So they have a tradition to leave a loaf of rye bread and an opened beer in the sauna over christmas night, as an offering for the guardian spirit of the sauna, so it can also participate in the celebrations and eat, drink and be merry. They explained this to me like they were confused that I truly had not heard about any of this before. Apparently engaging in pagan food sacrifices to the family spirits during a christian holiday is a perfectly normal activity for people who are neither pagan nor christian.

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peathepirate · 4 months

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IT IS HERE!!

The Demon of Isle Lake is a lighthearted webcomic about a mischievous water spirit and his human best friend* and… a green baby they catch from the lake?

Shenanigans will ensue, friendships will be rekindled, secret crushes will be uncovered, and a sauna gnome will be annoyed to death – figuratively of course, it is a lighthearted webcomic after all.

(*Fish considers them friends, Elias not so much)

You can read the comic at @thedemonofislelake

If I keep waiting to have the perfect title card, the perfect avatar, the perfect buffer or a schedule I can keep up with, I will NEVER launch this comic. So I'm publishing the blog now! I really hope you guys enjoy how the story evolves <3

#webcomic #original story #fantasy #romance #adventure #the demon of isle lake

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super-ion · 10 months

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Writing some backstory for my D&D character and it kinda got away from me

Setting belongs to @sunnylucy31 (with a couple of my own head canons for some minor details)

~~~

An icy wind whipped over the Cryptfloe tundra. The twisted stunted trees that sparsely dotted the plains did nothing to stop it so it cut like icy knives. Worse, it brought the faintest stench of rot.

It was not yet mid-spring, but Artemisia had overheard the rangers speaking of an early thaw. This far north, there should have been little to fear from roving undead, otherwise they wouldn't have sent three students on patrol with one of the rangers.

The Frostborn prided themselves on being poets and scholars, trading more in song and knowledge than the material wealth of their lumber and coal. Kofar itself was so isolated, there was little need for any sort of standing army, a point of pride among the ivory tower types who dwelled in Whitespire. Beyond the city walls, beasts and monsters still dwelt among the mountains and the forest and the occasional undead creature made its way across the Cryptfloe. A loosely organized volunteer force of rangers patrolled the lands. It was a difficult, thankless job, but it was necessary.

Service assignments were one of the prices of education in the Frostlands. Everybody worked, everybody contributed. The work was meant to keep scholars humble and keep the skalds in touch with the common people. Some assignments were certainly cushier than others. Some assignments they reserved for particularly troublesome students.

She could endure this. She had to. She was going to be a skald and she was going to travel the world.

She was freezing her ass off.

Artemisia pulled her cloak tighter around her and her tail miserably as she trudged onwards. Instead of grand far off fantasies, she shifted her focus to imagining the warm meal waiting for her back at the outpost. If she played her cards right, she might be able to enjoy a warm body too.

Her gaze drifted to Valoshar. The ranger was half orc, tall and powerfully built. She had spied him in the saunas on the second day of her exile to the tundra and had been slowly probing his defenses. Intuition told her that she couldn't just throw herself at his feet, he had too much self respect and likely had all manner of folk clamoring for his attention with each batch of students that were sent out here. No, if she wanted it, she had to work fort it. So she had contented herself with long game. The best part was he was definitely on to her little game and might even be playing along. Their slow dance of seduction was the only thing that made this sojourn almost tolerable. It was a good distraction and gods above and below, it would be so worth it. Oh, to finally feel those tusks brush roughly against her lips and… elsewhere… it would be-

"I fucking hate this," Eriem muttered for the hundredth time, shattering her fantasy.

The half-elf had done nothing but complain since they had gotten here.

"Yeah, well," Artemisia replied spitefully. "If somebody hadn't been caught stealing from the kitchens, we might have been sent somewhere more pleasant."

"Anyone could have been caught," Eriem protested.

Artemisia scoffed.

"You were bumbling around like an owlbear. It's like you wanted to get caught."

"And I suppose you wouldn't have?" he snipped.

"Oh please," she replied. "I was stealing from my father's kitchen as soon as I could walk. There's an art to it."

"Then why are you out here stumbling around in the snow like the rest of us?"

"Because I'm cursed to associate with morons and idiots," she shot back.

Laru, the fourth member of their party, cleared his throat softly.

"I… I think it's a great honor," he said. "To see the frontier and the brave warriors who defend it."

The little gnome scholar had a soft, melodic voice, he might have made a good skald if he were able to hold a tune worth a damn. But he liked stories, so Artemisia had taken a liking to him. He had responded initially with suspicion, but gradually relaxed when he realized she wasn't a threat.

"Oh please," Eriem scoffed. "You got sent here as a punishment just like Artie and me."

Artemisia ground her teeth at the nickname, but she held her tongue. He knew she hated it and she wasn't about to give him the satisfaction of witnessing her discomfort.

"To each according to their need-" Laru began, but was cut off by another scoff.

"This shit again?" Eriem interrupted.

Laru fell into sullen silence at that.

"Gods, Eriem," she muttered, "do you have to be such an ass all the time? Don't you think this whole situation might be just a little more tolerable if you were pleasant for a change?"

Eriem grumbled something uncharitable that she chose to ignore.

The sad part was Laru believed what he said. Well… she believed the words, she was Frostborn after all. They were a hardy people, but that hardiness came from community. The actual sad part was the scholar believed he had been specially chosen by the Conclave to patrol the Cryptfloe as part of his service curriculum. The maxim of "live together, die alone" took on a looser meaning in Whitespire where so many people living in one location in comfortable safety led to stratification. The likely truth was that he was a pawn in some political machination, somebody's nephew or cousin, shunted off to the tundra for a semester for some blackmail purposes.

Skald education was somewhat different than a scholar's. Artemisia and Eriem were both apprenticed to Gwynris Horthahk. The dwarf was a demanding teacher but when she sang, her audience hung rapt on every note, every word, every tiny gesture. Artemisia wanted that. She had wanted it more than anything ever since Gwynris had stayed at their inn when she was seven. The woman had traded a performance for a room and her father had certainly gotten the far better end of that deal.

Two years prior, word had reached Fardrift that Gwynris was seeking an apprentice and Artemisia had seized her opportunity and made the trek to Whitespire alone in late autumn only to discover that a rich family with an important name was already paying her a tidy salary to mentor one of their scions.

Artemisia, tiefling bastard daughter of an innkeeper from Fardrift, had a name that might have meant something a hundred years prior and a handful of silver that her father had pressed into her hands upon her hurried departure. But she was Frostborn: she knew how to be relentlessly patient.

It was rare for a skald to take on a second apprentice, but she decided to make her presence a problem until she secured that apprenticeship, no matter how long it took.

For two weeks, she hounded the woman's every move, charming her way through the staff entrances of inns, taverns and mead halls across the city, desperate for even a scrap of wisdom. It had taken Eriem three entire days before he realized they were being waited on by the same serving girl in every establishment, but Gwynris herself never commented on it. The woman just regarded her with a detached curiosity.

Eventually, either Gwynris had been impressed by Artemisia's persistence, or she had heard something special in one of her street performances, or maybe she just grew annoyed by the vagabond sleeping on her doorstep. Whatever the reason, Gwynris took her on and Artemisia quickly discovered how harsh of a mentor the dwarf really was.

Eriem, the pompous little shit that he was, was destined to be an orator, singing sagas for the richest families of Kofar and the wealthiest diplomats from abroad. His family's money kept Gwynris well fed and her sole interest in his education was ensuring that he didn't embarrass her.

Artemisia on the other hand, she worked three times as hard. There were endless errands and harrowing lessons that would go on for hours. Artemisia chafed under the preferential treatment and found herself questioning her life's purpose on more than one occasion. But she persisted, and slowly, grudgingly came to realize that Gwynris was preparing her to survive in the world beyond the shores of Kofar. Whatever spark Gwynris saw in Artemisia, she meant for it to thrive and even blaze in the wider world.

Artemisia was certain this assignment, patrolling the tundra's edge with the rangers, was another lesson. Officially, it was punishment. Eriem had indeed stolen sweet cakes from the Conclave kitchens, but Artemisia had the impression that he was being punished more for being caught than the actual crime itself. Artemisia had simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time and "it would be good for her" and "she might learn something".

So she had decided to make the most of it. She swapped tales with Laru and was already composing an epic ballad based on one of the more obscure stories he told her. She had to embellish, of course. No sense writing an epic if it was just going to put people to sleep.

She also collected bawdy drinking songs and solemn dirges from the rangers. It was a fascinating subculture out here on the tundra where frozen undead thawed and slowly advanced every summer. She could probably write a book about it if she were so inclined. Somebody would probably read it.

She was so lost in thought that she didn't notice Valoshar had stopped in his tracks until she almost plowed into him.

By instinct, she froze. She had grown up between the mountains and the forest. She knew that when a ranger stopped moving, something was afoot.

She cocked her head and strained to hear, but the tundra was dead silent save for the wind.

"What the hell is going on, Val?" Eriem shouted.

Before she could turn to tell him to shut up, there was a thunderous crack and she was knocked gracelessly to the frozen ground as a massive shape erupted from beneath them.

The wind was knocked out of her and her hands and knees smarted painfully from where she landed. She only had a moment to blink dazedly before the screaming started.

She scrambled painfully to her feet and whirled. The zombie might have been a bugbear once, but it had rotted and frozen and refrozen beyond recognition. It had its jaws clamped tight around Laru's leg as he beat helplessly at its face.

Her hand grasped the hilt of her rapier and yanked it free. Her mind raced as she tried to recall the details of all the lessons Gwynris had beaten into her. She had never fought a real enemy before, but her understanding was that stage fighting was very much different from the real thing. She squared her stance and raised her blade.

Eriem stood a few paces away, his eyes were round and panicky and his mouth hung slack in terror. He held the hilt of his own sword in a white knuckled grip, but shock had completely frozen him before he could draw it. Fine, if he was going to be useless, at least he had the good sense to stay out of the way.

That left her and…

A warhammer slammed into the zombie's shoulder with a crunch, spraying shards of mostly frozen flesh. The zombie released Laru and turned to face Valoshar. It opened its mouth to groan or howl, but no sound emerged from its frozen lungs. The whole effect was deeply disconcerting in Artemisia's opinion.

She had to do something, anything to assist Valoshar, so she did what came naturally. She opened her mouth and sang.

"The sun blazed high in the clear sky

O'er frozen ground, where no plants grow

The thrice cursed dead, he sent to rest

Their bodies thick upon the snow"

It was from the epic she was composing from Laru's story. Valoshar cocked his head at her in a moment of bafflement, but drew himself up at the words.

She took the opportunity to thrust with the rapier. It bounced ineffectively off the frozen flesh, dimming her bravado somewhat, but it was enough to give Valoshar a chance to deliver a devastating blow to the monster's head.

It went down with a crash, twitching and spasming before Valoshar dealt it another blow that brought it back to stillness.

Artemisia stood panting. They had won. Her words had inspired a mighty warrior into great deeds.

Laru moaned in pain nearby, shattering the thrill of victory. The gnome was in poor shape, his leg was mangled and too much blood lay freezing on the ground.

She swallowed. She knew what she had to do, she had seen it done before.

She held her hands before the wound and began to sing a wordless tune. It wasn't quite the same as when she sang for Valoshar, though there had been magic in that. This was rhythm and melody reshaping the world. There were tales that claimed the world had been sung into existence, but she herself had never come close to believing that until now. Laru's wound knit together, color returned to his skin and his breathing calmed.

She finished the song and continued kneeling at his side. She had sung countless times, for audiences of all sizes, but she had never sung like that before. She had done it. She had cast a spell. She had woven sound and magic together into the world and the whole experience left her breathless and exhilarated.

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