Young Writers Society

What is this?

Ahoy there fellow storybookers! Your one and only Literary Misc. Crew are trying something new. We're bringing you an easy join, easy post storybook that aims to eliminate any walls between the oldies and the newbies of storybooking. This is a great one to join if you've never tried it before, or if you've been away some time and are looking for an easy jump back in. It will also be great fun for the regulars though so don't you go away! As the title suggests, this will be an on-going project. Book Two will be ninjas vs pirates

Discussion Thread

viewtopic.php?f=200&t=95581

The Rules

1. Be courteous toward other writers. Try to involve at least two other characters in each of your posts, even if you only describe what they're doing or where they are.
2. Have fun!
3. Join us.

The Plot

"Oh hello there, have you come to sign up? No, honestly, you've found the right place. I know it doesn't look like much but this dusty town used to have a lot of life in it and with your help, we'd like to make that true again!

"Please, come this way. That's it, we always start the adventure standing outside the tavern; it's a tradition. Now before you can sign up, I need to ask a few things about you...

Code: Select all

[b]Name:[/b]
[b]Age:[/b]
[b]Gender:[/b]

[b]Class:[/b] (rogue, barbarian, cleric, sorcerer, warrior, ranger)
[b]Race:[/b] (dwarf, elf, human)

[b]Skills:[/b] (choose two: speed, strength, endurance, intelligence, dexterity, magic, accuracy)
[b]Weakness:[/b] (choose one: speed, strength, endurance, intelligence, dexterity, magic, accuracy)

[b]Appearance:[/b] (Photographs or descriptions are equally welcome!)
[b]Personality:[/b] (Describe yourself in four sentences)

"Thank you very much, that's everything I need to know. If you can just sign here and here, this exempts me from your death should you befall harm on your journey - great! We leave in one hour so get to know your fellow adventurers and I hope you have everything you need, but if not, you will find the shopkeeper in the building next door. Please prepare yourselves, I do not know what trouble will meet us on the road but it's sure to be troublesome!"

How to Join?

Jump in whenever you're ready! Simply react to this post as if you were one of the adventurers signing up to help save the time! Maybe you're young and bright eyes or old and down on your look. Whatever the reason, be sure to bring a weapon because I hear there are goblins living in the hills to the north of us and bandits in the south.

Lumies

The sun was nearing high noon - hot enough to steam away the drops of dew from the damp morning, but not quite heavy enough to make the townsfolk break a sweat. They were trying hard for it, though. There were few people bustling about the old town, and there was a strange, almost-forgotten air about it. Flanking the two entrances (or most likely, exits) to the town were burly Dwarven guards with crude hatchets strapped to their backs. They all seemed as if they could be relatives.

The smell of freshly roasted meat slammed against the residual salty tone in the air - almost suddenly as if the meat had been conjured at once, most likely by a show-off mage. Atop the low-hanging roof of the tavern, sipping on a waterskin filled with Gale Ale, sat a rather tanned and mischievous-looking elf. He had been watching the town for at least six hours, surmised an innkeeper, and was clearly mourning something dear - and dead.

And he was.

Lumies had entered town with tears in his mail and a snap in his bowstring, sutured temporarily with the sinew of a bear. He had a far-stretching cut along his forearm that was clearly from a close encounter with a scimitar. But most worrisome of all was the off-color sulk in his step. He'd lost his animal companion - Juliett - in combat with a plagued soldier in the southwest. Once he'd come to grips with the loss, he'd vowed to embark on some journey to get his mind off of the lavish verdant raptor of his, and this town was known for just that. It was the place you came to when you wanted to leave. The sentiment had confused Lumies for days, but the instant he entered the town, he understood.

This was the place where journeys began.

Already, his brain was working against his memory of Juliett, and he'd plotted a few pranks he could pull against the few adventurers he'd seen around the tavern. It was only a matter until the Quest Master - who apparently liked to be called Bartemius - would pool the promising adventurers into one party. And Lumies had a strong feeling that it would come soon.

Scarletta:

Scarletta had conjured roast beef. She glared at it, well aware of the sullen-yet-amused elf sitting on a nearby roof-top. "I was meant to conjure up a rainstorm!" she snapped, stamping a foot. Sighing, she plonked down on a nearby crate and glared at the roasted meat sitting on the other crate before her. "Why do you always do that? Gah, I'll never learn to conjure something right like this!" She threw her hands up into the air and glanced about. Scarletta had spoken to the strange man named Bartemius earlier. Or at least, that's how he'd introduced himself.

Sighing, she considered the meat for a long moment before leaning over it and producing one of her twin daggers (which she could only just use, by the way). She cut off a slice of the meat and popped it into her mouth--and promptly melted into a puddle on the crate. The roast beef was delicious and also handy. She had been rather hungry, now that she had food in front of her.

"Why is that when I screw up my craft, I somehow manage to conjure up something handy?" she asked herself as she cut off another slice. "Mmmh, this really is delicious." She promptly melted again. At least there was an upside to her screwy magic; good food when she wasn't expecting it. She jumped when someone ran past, snatching up the roast beef. "Oi! You little thief!"

She stood there, shouting after them for a moment before sighing and dropping back onto her crate. Perhaps she should try to conjure up a storm again while she waited for the adventure to begin?

Illumies:

Illumies skulked in the shadows of an ally, hugging his cloak about himself. Not because it did anything to conceal him, he just thought it looked cool. He had come into town on a hunch, trusting his rogue instinct (the flier advertising the Quest Master's reunion didn't count). That, and he had to escape a dozen score or so of angry watchmen. Those guys always overreacted so much. It had only been a small bag of gold, after all. Fortunately, he'd lost them. He hoped.

The smell of roast meat wafted over towards him, tickling his nostrils. Illumies' stomach growled. In loosing the aforementioned watchmen, he had had to change outfit and get rid of his pack. He was pleasantly surprised when the old clothes-on-a-log trick actually worked.

Stealthily, moving forward in a slow crouch, Illumies advanced, out of the shadows, humming to himself. He spotted a woman, probably a mage, glaring at a piece of roast as if it had kicked her pet dog. He waited for a few seconds, then took advantage of the mage's temporary distraction as she glanced up, having seen something probably, and sprinted forward, grabbing the roast smoothly and careening on, ignoring the outraged shout.

Illumies hoisted himself up a pole, one-handed, and vaulted up a convenient niche between to buildings. He nodded complacently. He hadn't failed his dexterity checks yet. Illumies attacked the roast hungrily, carving pieces out with his knives. While he did have... other, less conventional weapons about his person, these were the ones he preferred. Well, in combat, at least.

Chuckling to himself, he polished off the last piece of roast. He stood and stretched, languidly. The Quest Master would probably be assembling the heroes any time now.

Illumies froze mid-stretch. That couldn't be... no. Of all places, here! Shielding his eyes from the sun, Illumies saw the familiar figure of the elf, lounging on a tavern roof-top. Yep, that was definitely Lumies. Distant cousin of his, Lumies always put the damper on a situation. The ladies were always fascinated by him or something. Bah.

Deciding to take the long route around, Illumies vaulted down to the ground, and was about to turn, when he collided with somebody very short, heavily-armored, and angry.

Audna

The floor boards creaked a whimper as a heavy axe toppled and slid across the front porch of the tavern. The silver weapon shone greedily, reflecting everything against its wide blade: the lavender sky, the apologetic look on the clumsy human's face, and the upside-down twitch of a smile from its owner.

Said owner stood, three feet and eleven inches, still as a sword, and arms crossed in an arrant fashion. She might have looked imposing enough if she were of another kind, or even another sex.

"I'm sorry, dwarf," Illumies said, hustling to get out of sight. He patted off the dirt from his cloak, but as he took another step, he regretted it instantly.

"Dwarf?" Audna sneered, "Do I look like a dwarf to you, imp-belly?" As she spoke her voice rose higher and higher, and soon a small crowd of curious bystanders gathered around them, concern in their expressions.

"You think you can just ally-oop anywhere you wish, imp? Does this look like the circus to you? Are you even going to pick up my axe?"

Audna had to give the guy credit. Normally she would like to imagine that her voice alone could send all trembling and itching towards their mothers, after all, they didn't call her the Rash for nothing. But she was impressed that this oaf could still manage to keep completely calm and soothe of voice. He made towards the axe without a qualm. Audna didn't like that one bit, but she laughed as he struggled to lift it.

"Apologies again, my lady," Illumies said. He was hoping he'd be done with this and on his way, but Audna snatched the axe from him as though she thought he was going to steal it, and for some reason he was bothered by this overt intolerance. He didn't think he made as big of a slight as Audna appeared to take it, after all he barely bumped into her and apologized on the spot, but everyone was flocking towards the heated argument and in no time a small semi-circle formed around them. Who did this character think she was, bossing him around and demanding attention?

He attempted to use this chance to try to slip into and through the crowd and down the alleyway, but Audna quickly held him back by the arm. He wasn't going to get out of this easily. Audna's patience had been tried today, and she was tired of waiting for the dawdling, good-for-nothing Bartemius. Plus, she could use some exercise before the journey began.

"Fight me, imp-belly!" Audna swirled Illumies around, but he never tripped or stumbled.

"What? Are you drunk, lady? Calm down!"

"So what if I am, coward? I can hold my liquor. Mark my words everyone!" Audna waved her axe at the crowd as though performing a show, almost managing to slice her braid clean off. "They call me the Rash. Want to know why that is?"

An excitement of jeers and calls and bloodthirsty hooligans chanted in uproar. At this moment, two figures broke through the crowd with considerable ease. One with the white robes typical of a cleric, and incidentally the only person who dared hold Audna back. The other, an elf with a mischievous glint in his eye and a quiver of arrows strapped to his back.

"Cousin!"

Illumies groaned.

Lumies

"What've I told ya about stealin' t'ings from folks who can surely end yer life?" Lumies shouted over the noise of the crowd. His bouncy accent turned some heads - definitely folks who weren't used to elvish voices.

The brooding rogue sneered, rolling his eyes, and mumbled, "Never steal items you can't wield, sell, or present plausible excuse for incurred injuries."

Lumies nodded and swept his cousin aside with his leg, swooping in between the rogue and warrior. Casually, he slipped a fake gold coin (made from chocolate on the inside) from his vest and tucked it into the dwarf's palm. "I t'ink this should cover fer any grief caused by this numbskull of a cousin'a mine, ay?"

The dwarf narrowed her eyes - a real squinter, this one - and held the coin up against the sunlight, examining how shiny it was. And just as she was pleased, just as she began to nod, there was a clap of thunder accompanied by a gleeful squee! from someone in the crowd. Rain began to fall as the nearby mage did a victory dance.

"I made it rain!" She cheered.

Lumies turned his eyes to the coin - which during dry weather would've fooled anyone - and swallowed a lump in his throat. "Well, since we're all satisfied an' smilin', we may as well be off on our merry way, wouldn't ya say, Illy?"

Catching his drift, Illumies poked out his chest and coughed. "Yup! I'd say that's a good saying to say," he said.

The gold covering melted off of the chocolate coin, and the dwarf fetched her axe from the ground. "Oi, this is when I cut y'both down!" Lumies backed up a step or two, three, or four, and quickly fetched a roped arrow from his quiver, firing it expertly at a faraway roof. After grabbing his cousin by the nape of his collar, he tugged on the rope and fled into the air.

He landed on his feet on the rooftop, letting Illumies tumble head over heels down the building. Roofing tiles and tar flew loose, blowing away in the conjured wind. "It had to be a trick coin, didn't it?! You just couldn't bail me out of a mess with real money!"

Lumies flicked a glare at him, squinting at the surrounding alleyways for barrels of oil. Fortuitously, a stack of three were leaned against the building that served as the bakery, and Lumies hauled his cousin to his feet. "T'is is how we make an escape." He turned back to the oncoming axe-wielding dwarf and fired a flaming shot into the barrels, sending a gush of blazing oil into the streets. The dwarf stopped her charging, shielding her eyes from the small explosion.

"Do we run now?" Illumies clutched the elf on the shoulder, tugging at his mail.

"Now," Lumies answered, "we flee. Or somet'in. Find us horses!"

"I can conjure a horse," replied a freakishly startling-yet-smooth voice. Lumies and Illumies gasped, grabbing each other like small children, and saw the mage who'd conjured the storm.

"Hey! It's the beef wizard!" Illumies licked his lips and grinned. "I like this one - a good cook and everything."

The mage shrugged and placed a finger on her lips. "You can call me Scarletta, naturally, since that's my natural name."

Lumies pushed his cousin off of him. "Ye said somet'in about horses. Give us a horse!"

It was then that, suddenly and without a convenient warning shout, in came falling a boulder, thrown by one of their fans on the ground. The rock slammed into Lumies' chest and sent him crashing down through the tiles and tar and wood of the house's roof, down to the floor of the tavern. He groaned under his breath and looked around him. The tavern was packed, and in front of him stood Bartemius, the quest master.

"I suppose that answers my 'where's the elf' question." He stroked his beard and rolled the heavy stone off of Lumies' chest as his two companions fell from the roofing as well. Roguishly, Illumies landed on his feet - the mage in Bartemius' arms. "And the rogue and the sorcerer. Good, good." He peered up through the falling raindrops at the hole in the roof. "Will anyone else be joining us down here?"

Nonina

Nonina stood there on the warm sands of the street, watching the high sun cast sadows across the sweltiring buildings that lined her path. Directly ahead of her she noticed a bit of a scuffle - two men, one stocky and imposing, the other, tall and elvish, both facing off a blonde dwarf. The atmoshpere was tense, and the dwarf was obviously angry.

Nonina approached, noticing that it was the tavern that she was heading towards. "Great," she murmered, "troubles already started and I'm not even there to start it." She sighed and approached the patrons, just as the two men began bounding off and a loud clap of thunder introduced cool droplets of rain.

The air smelled fresh as the rain burst into steam as it crashed against the warm dirt. Nonina noticed that it also smelled of something else - magic. She smiled at the recognition of a fellow sorcerer who she guessed to be the tentative woman wo had just approached the tavern.

Just then, a loud and authorative man approached the scene and began causing havoc among the waiting adventurers. As Nonina walked onto the porch, she caught the tail-end of the man who she recognised as Bartemius. "Will anyone else be joining us down here?" he boomed to the crowd.

Nonina spoke, making her prescence known. "I do believe I shall," she said, smiling at the thouht of the adventures ahead.

Bartemius

The last adventurer had signed the declaration exempting Bartemius from being responsible for their deaths or the burial of their corpses. Phew. He did not like the idea of insisting a troll give back its lunch, thank you very much. But when Bartemius turned around to survey his newly formed group, he found that they were... "Gone?" Bartemius scratched his dark head thoughtfully. Now where had they all gotten to?

Ah, never mind. They'd turn up sooner or later and when they did, they'd come looking for him at the trusty tavern. Because that was where all adventures began. Bart (as he was sometimes known) turned and entered the smoky interior and began to ask after his missing adventurers. Certainly they couldn't have run off already; that would be a new record. But not a moment later, the elf came crashing through the roof and he brought a boulder with him.

"I suppose that answers my 'where's the elf' question." Bartemius bent his muscles to the stone and rolled it off the elf's chest. An easy job for someone as strong as him. He straightened his back and looked up, just in time to catch a falling mage. Aha! This was looking more hopeful. "And the rogue and the sorcerer. Good, good." He peered up through the falling raindrops at the hole in the roof. "Will anyone else be joining us down here?"

"I do believe I shall." Bartemius followed the sound of the voice to its owner and gave her a cheerful grin. "Ah, Noni! What a perfect addition to our group and now I'm sure some of you will make it back alive. Why all we need now is a drawf!" There couldn't be a real party without a nice, sturdy dwarf but sadly they were lacking and they were running out of time. Bartemius flipped a pocket watch out of his pocket and nodded sagely to himself. Yes, running out of time.

"Who are you calling drawf?" A loud voice suddenly demanded as a slightly out of breath, axe-wielding drawf stormed into the tavern. Bartemius scrutinised her with one eye lazily closed and he stroked the beard on his chin.

"Hum, hum. Not a drawf, no, but I suppose you will do. Welcome to the team! Let's be off, shall we?" Without another word, the burly Bartemius ushered his party outside and began to lead them out of the town.

"What about horses?" Illumies asked with a frown.

"Oh no, no. We're much too fresh for that! You've got to kill some goblins first and then we'll think about horses."

"Not a dwarf, but I suppose you will do." Bartemius's deep voice rang through the open doorway, as he ushered a group through the gap.

I pressed myself flat against the wall.

"Welcome to the team! Let's be off, shall we?" He walked past the group, and started towards the edge of town.

"What about horses?" Lumies asked, scowling.

"Oh no, no. We're much too fresh for that!"
Heh. You might be, but I'm not. I've been walking for weeks.

"You've got to kill some goblins first, and then we'll think about horses."

It seemed a bit daft to me, to set out without a resource we knew we'd need later, but I didn't argue. Where Bartemius went, adventure always followed, and I wasn't about to miss it- even if it meant extra miles on my weary legs.

"Have a spot for a Ranger?" I asked, stepping forward, scanning the rest of the group. He seemed to have a well-rounded group: a mage, a dwarf, a warrior, and... Oh, he's already got a Ranger.

"Depends who he is. I don't work with men who won't show thier faces, or give a name."

I chewed on the inside of my lip for a moment, and then flipped my hood back. I hoped that my hair, which I had carefully laid over the tips of my ears when I pulled it back, still covered them. "Shadrea Vyre."

Lumies

It wasn't long after Bartemius had assembled his ragtag team that they set off into the late afternoon sun. Lumies was surprised, as he often was, by how much luggage the dwarfish she-human carried. From his position near the back of their pack, he surmised she probably held twice her weight on her back - both her own luggage, and that of Illumies. Yes, he had busied himself brushing a black rag across his daggers hundreds upon hundreds of times, coating them in poisons that Lumies couldn't even pronounce. From where he walked, he also sized up the other ranger. No bow, no quiver - he assumed that if she considered herself a ranger, she must have some astounding skill with glaives and knifeplay. And that would make for a nice one-on-one if the mood ever struck him.

Unfortunately, something quite different struck him first.

Granted, it was small and un-painful, but nevertheless, a wooden twig-spear grazed the elf's shoulder, snagging under one of the naga scales in his shoulder armor. Curiously, he turned his head towards the source and scanned the brush. Nothing was blatantly visible - which meant whatever had attacked was either camouflaged or long gone - the latter of which was way too unlikely.

"Oi," said Lumies, "I t'ink we've found yer trolls, Barty." With a squint, Lumies fetched his bow and a simple arrow from his quiver and lined up with an oddity in the brush - counted an aim in his head - and fired, warranting a gargling growl from the hidden attacker.

"They're always in packs," said Bartemius, half-attentively. "Be ready for a charge."

And sure as evening rain in Eversong, a gang-shout echoed from the trees: "Ikki mal ik vodo!"

A wave of trolls came pouring from the woods, and Lumies steadied his bow.

There's no such thing as too late in this storybook

Bartemius

Bartemius knew how adventures went because he'd planned many an adventurous venture before. And he knew that this one wasn't special. As sad as it was, Bartemius knew that they would fight some goblins, kill some trolls and earn him the respect and money of the villagers. But sadly they would also lose members of the party and it could only be a matter of time before the next adventure must begin.

But Bartemius wasn't thinking of that now! He was surprisingly good at thinking jolly thoughts and looked forward to reducing the area's goblin population.

Unfortunately the trolls had other plans and Bartemius thought to himself that this was very unfortunate. The group probably weren't ready to be facing the trolls. But he was ultimately an optimistic guy so Barty gave them some advice while he looked for a place to hide.

"They're always in packs," Bartemius said, ducking behind a tree. Then he popped his head back out and added: "Be ready for a charge."

The hiding place was found none too soon and a moment later the war cry was issue from the tree by a gaggle of guttural voices: "Ikki mal ik vodo!"

The trolls poured out of the woods and the brave adventurers all prepared to fight, except for Bartemius who was nowhere to be found. One of the adventurers who had quietly joined the group was an elf cleric and he carried with him a mace. The elf cleric rushed forward to attack one of the trolls.

As the fight seemed to develope into a war, not far away under the shade of a tree sat a young rogue. Watching and giggiling to himself at the cowardice of the man hiding and the foolishness of the others for taking up a fight with the trolls.

Expecting them to lose almost right away but the fight went on and on. He was getting rather impressed at how well they fought, still he couldn't help himself from laughing at what looked like a dwarf woman swinging an axe over her head rather angily.

The sun now very low in the sky Zuke's eyes were starting to close. he almost fell asleep when suddenly he jolted up from a loud cheering sound. He looked over and saw that the fight was finally over. The trolls were defeated.

Shocked he crossed his arms and leand back at the tree watching as most of them cheered their victory. One of them looked his way, narrowing his eyes he saw it was an Elf. He started to panic a little, no one should be able to see him in the dark. The Elf looked away and not soon after they kept walking.

Intrigued by them he followed.

Rowan

Charging toward one of the ungainly beasts, Rowan swung his mace up over his head but he was obviously far too fast, for he ran right past the stupid troll and wasn't able to land his hit. It wasn't his fault the trolls were unexpectedly slow and he would have to allow for that next time.

But before he could retreat the troll had hit himself on the head with his own club and Rowan snickered at the creature's foolishness before taking a club to the shoulder. He might have deserved that.

Rowan brought his mace around again and this time the troll moved too slowly to evade but if anything, the mace did more harm to Rowan, sending a heavy jolt up his wrist as it struck the solid armour. The elf narrowed his eyes and fought on with a vengeance.

It was a long and gruelling battle and the bold group of adventurers only survived by a mixture of good fortune and the trolls' frequent bouts of self harm. But finally the last of the trolls smashed his brains out with his own club as he tripped over one of his fallen brethren and the battlefield was silent.

A smooth and unaffected Bartemius stepped boldly out from behind a tree and brushed a speckle of dust from his coat. "Good job, well rallied! That was a close call, wasn't it?" Rowan glowered at Bart who was far too cheery for someone who had been 'boldly' hiding behind a bush for the last five hours. Not unlike their dark haired friend under a tree over there.

Rowan turned to fix his eyes on the unhelpful stranger and then followed the rest of the group at a very slow pace to a safer part of the woods.

"Ah yes, here's the spot. Let's rest up here and have us a bite of supper," their great and glorious leader decided, rubbing his hands together.

Whatever. Rowan slung the rucksack off his back and hunkered down against a tree as he waited for the rations to be divided up. If anyone wanted healing they were going to have to come and request it because Rowan was loathe to go around and administer to everyone's wounds. He wasn't a travelling freak show afterall.

"If you were going to join us, don't you think the battle would have been a good time?" The elf asked casually of the stranger who had followed them. He couldn't quite see him in the dark - probably a rogue - but the movement of the wind and the almost absence of there not being anything there told him that something was. "It don't bother me none but it was touch and go for the sorcerer over there. You might want to watch who you're standing next to."

Shadrea Vyre

"Trolls," I cursed. Trolls were slow, clumsy, and brainless, but they had thick skin and thier arms reminded me of logs...well, okay, it's not quite that bad.

Rowan, a youngish elf that I had been watching since we left the town, charge the group of trolls. I cursed again and ran after him. My instincts were to plan- to set a trap, to strategize our attack, or, better yet, to circumvent the band altogether. But I couldn't let the elf get his brains bashed out.

The battle was long. Rowan got bashed in the shoulder once, when he got careless, cocky. It was hard not to get cocky, though. The trolls made it pathetically easy to land blows, and I was getting careless as well- which left several large, black bruises covering my body.

Finally the last beast bashed his own skull in with his club. My fellow adventurers and I stood panting, looking at the bodies that littered the clearing, as Bartemius stepped out from behind a tree and brushed his coat off. I glared at him as he smiled broadly.

"Good job, well rallied! That was a close call, wasn't it?" Bartemius said cheerily, patting my shoulder as I passed.

I considered showing Bartemius what a close call was, but Rowan was standing far too near for me to do any damage. I glanced up at him- he was glaring as venomously as I figured I was. He actually might not pull me off...

Grumbling to myself I pulled my sword from where I had buried it in the earth, and followed the rest of the group into the woods. My entire body ached, my ribs were throbbing, blood beat against my temples. I was ready for a meal and a good night's sleep, but we walked for a while before our noble leader found a spot that suited him.

"Ah yes, here's the spot. Let's rest up here and have us a bite of supper," Bartemius said, his face glowing in excitement.

I pressed my back into a fallen log, and laid my sword across my lap, not about to be the one left standing- the one to build a fire. I pulled a rag out of my pocket and, wetting it with the water in my canteen, I cleaned my blade better than I had on the field.

A few minutes later I had a roll and a few strips of jerky, and I was sitting by the log, satiating the gnawing in my stomach. The pounding in my head had reduced to a bearable throb, but my ribs still hurt unbelievably.

As darkness fell, I pulled the whetstone from my pocket and began sharpening my blade. Gradually my hand slowed, and then stopped, as I dropped the stone and pressed my hand into my side. My breathing was shallow and labored, as I struggled to calm the pain-- my pride dearly hoping that I wasn't panting too loudly.

"You should get that looked at." Someone sat down beside me. I cracked my eyes opened and glared at that person, though I supposed I didn't look very threatening, as they merely shrugged. "Broken ribs, by the look of it."

I clenched my jaw. "What do you care?"

It was disgusting how weak I sounded in my own ears. I'd had broken bones before. Why did broken ribs hurt so much worse?

The person smirked. "I know this'll kill your pride, but Rowan over there's the cleric. It's better your pride than your body goes."

With that I was left alone once more, glaring at the whetstone, glaring at Rowan, and then back to the whetstone. It hurt so very badly. I desperately longed to get it fixed, but...I...

I sighed and pushed myself to my feet stiffly, wincing. This has got to stop.

"Hey, elf," I say gruffly, as I walk up to where he's sitting.

"Rowan," he supplies.

"Yeah...I'm...I'm Shadrea."

He nods once, acknowledging. "Hello."

"Hi...you're the, uh, the cleric, right?" I ask, hoping he'll make it easy on me and offer.

"I am."

There was a strained silenced, my pride kicking me every second for coming over. Eat the pain...that's what I've always done before.

"Can I help you?" he asks, smirking.

That ass is doing this on purpose. "No. No you can't. I shouldn't have come over here."

I turned away, too quickly, and stopped mid-step, clutching my side, my breath catching. I stayed utterly silent, unwilling to so much as whimper.

"Sit down."

I turned and looked at him, shaking my head. "I'm fine."

"Sit," he repeated, gently pushing me towards the tree where his bag lay.

Zuke

"If you were going to join us, don't you think the battle would have been a good time?" The elf said. At first Zuke didn't say a thing, it had been a first no one had ever seen or heard him. Not atleast when he was hiding.

"It don't bother me none but it was touch and go for the sorcerer over there. You might want to watch who you're standing next to." Now he had to talk, there was no point in hiding from this elf.

"Well it seemed to me you had it under control" he said watching as the elf tried to pin point his location. "You saw me didn't you before by the tree?" Zuke asked but his question wasn't answered where as a girl was walking in their direction.

Zuke listened to the conversation for a while but decided to find a place to sleep. He climbed up a tree not far away from where the elf was and laid down on the thickest branch. Although it was still rather small he was used to sleeping on tree branches. First five time he woke up on the ground with a severely bad headache.

He found the branch very comfortable, still he wouldn't sleep until everyone else was. First he would steal a little food then he could go to sleep. The thought of food made his stomach grumble, he jumped down looking over the group waiting until their dreams would capture their attention.