Arial Fortuna: The Spellfire Prophecies

**Ristaron** · #1 (**permalink**) 03-26-2008, 03:09 AM

I tried to write a story on here before, but my heart wasn't in it. I only made it a few chapters before I couldn't think of how to progress. So, this time, I am going to use a character I have been toying with for a long time. I originally made her in the online game "Guild Wars" as an elementalist, and later I made her as a Dungeons and Dragons character (sorceror). I have been running a D&D campaign over the past few months with some friends of mine and been building up the "behind-the-scenes" story that involves her as the campaign progresses. However, I feel that she is too potent of a character to leave in the background, so I am going to write her tale. I am going to write them in installments, some of which may require a few posts because of the character-limit on our posts.
For now, I need to relay the setting. So, get a bag of popcorn and get ready.

Diona. Ever since the Blood Wars, it has been a jewel of the affluent Ten Kingdoms. Unparalleled in beauty in the West, Diona's sparkling shores and towering mountains are but small indications of the impressive nature of the kingdom. The envy of many ambitious warlords, many of them from the planes beyond, Diona's peace is a fractured record, rent by many periods of unrest. Most notably was the rise of Elegrin de Alasdon. A lord of necromancy and master of black arts, Elegrin's insurrection against Diona and its ally, the mighty Mages Guild, escalated into a civil war that ravaged the kingdom for three years. Finally defeated by the greatest wizards of the time, in the Clockwork Nirvana of Mechanus, the dark lord's coup was brought to an end.
For ten years the peace was kept, and the vestiges of his army chased into the dark recesses of the land. Peace returned, and life resumed.
But unknown to those who had opposed him, Elegrin had left behind the means to return. Using the forbidden knowledge he had stolen from the vaults of the arcane libraries of the land, Elegrin had torn fragments of his soul to be stored in the most obscure and unknown places. In time, he regained his power, and returned to Diona to once again rally an army against his hated enemies.
It was within this time that a tale of gods and magic, of life and love, of fate and war, is born. For this was the time of Arial Fortuna.

-Methuselah

Prologue

The cool, salty night air brushed gently across her face as she stood, wrapped in a bedsheet with a light night-coat hung over her slender shoulders. Arial Fortuna's bright green eyes watched the tide begin to wash out as the moon approached the Western horizon behind her. This was her favourite time of the night, just before the first traces of dawn sullied the deep sapphire blue of the sky, touched only by the distant stars. How innumerable they were, those points of light in the sky. Clustered in seemingly random patterns, it took a trained eye to see the constellations as the Spellgoddess had set them. For within each star there was a story; a story written by the hand of Aasya in the Weave -- the essense of magic that surrounded and suffused everything in the cosmos. Arial briefly pondered, as she appreciated the vast expanse of the night sky, if the gods themselves viewed their mortal followers the same way. Points of light, waxing and waning in a cycle of life and death -- or night and day, as it were. The sorceress was drawn from her reverie by a familiar touch. Matthias' hands were soft, having been spared the arduous menial labour of the farmers and loggers. The scribe's hands were used to pen elaborate incantations and draw intricate runes as the Mages Guild, a league of wizards among whom Arial was not welcome, learned more spells and lore to add to their considerable resources.
The scribe's other hand touched her other arm. They gently traced the soft skin of her upper arms. The warmth that washed through the sorceress made her realize how cold she had been on the balcony.
"Come back to bed", Matthias softly whispered in her ear. The man had to lower his head as far as he could so that his mouth would come close to the small woman's ear.
"The stars are beautiful", the sorceress replied distantly. Matthias traced the back of his hand along Arial's cheekbone, and she turned into the touch, reveling in it. She ran a finger along his bare chest, the faint shadow of his androgenic hair barely visible in the fading moonlight. Matthias wrapped his arms, remarkably strong for his line of work, around her and held her close. Their young bodies, so full of life, felt attuned to each other on every level. Slowly, they made their way back to the bed, still warm from their night together.

Chapter One

Arial Fortuna was small in stature, but prodigious in spirit. A reputation for flippant disregard of authority and a penchant for destruction surrounded the sorceress. The daughter of Elder Malian Fortuna of the Ivory Circle guild, however, had noticeably pacified of late. Rumours of her involvement with a member of the Mages Guild were widespread, and often understated. Generally, however, it was her paramour whom was credited with placating the woman's temper. Though barely above twenty summers, the sorceress had managed to climb the ranks of the Ivory Circle with remarkable speed. Having been initiated as a full member at sixteen years, she had already risen to the position of lieutenant in the guild headquarters in the kingdom of Diona. The headquarters, once the ancestral home of Elder Benirus de Urion, had been converted into the first guild hall for the Ivory Circle several years prior to the rise of Elegrin de Alasdon. During the Necromancer War, the guild had served admirably as an agent of King Tarantus, with Elder Tarkhil even striking the killing blow on the Necromancer Lord in a spell-duel on the plane of Mechanus.

Today, however, the guildhall only served as residence for Elder Benirus, and the guildmembers in Diona who did not wish to live in any of the major cities. Like the other guildhalls, it was the only one of its kind in the entire kingdom. The others were located in neighbouring kingdoms; Andron, Aragond, and Myamar. Spread through four of the ten kingdoms of the region, the Ivory Circle was growing quickly, with plans underway for expanding into Asgard as well. With every new day, new recruits were accepted into the guild, increasing its influence. This ever-growing reputation was constantly opening doors to the guild and its members. Anyone wearing an insignia of the Ivory Circle was treated with respect wherever they went throughout the Northern kingdoms. Even the Mages Guild would suspend its policy prohibiting guildmembers from doing business with those who did not renounce the school of Necromancy in its entirety if that individual was among the ranks of the Ivory Circle. For that, however, it was Elder Tarkhil, a tremendously powerful wizard in his own right, who was to thank. His negotiations with the archmage council of the Mages Guild had created the bridge between the two guilds that had also first led Arial to Matthias.
Though, Arial often believed that the meeting had been destined to happen by any means available.

As the sorceress ascended the worn terracotta steps to the third floor of the enormous complex, one of many Chateaus that were owned by wealthy lords throughout the region, she immediately sensed the urgency of her summons. Unlike wizards, who studied the Art and learned to channel the Weave through books and meticulous study, Arial's magical aptitude was inborn, a gift from the Spellgoddess. Consequently, she had found herself more sensitive to the Weave around her than others, and sometimes -- unintentionally -- caught glimpses through it. Picking up her pace, the sorceress' cured leather boots scraped on the ancient stone floor as her blue robes billowed slightly at the speed of her step. She had heard the message from her mother, Elder Malian, scarcely five minutes earlier. The woman had not bothered to flower the message she had sent to make use of the spell's full capacity, having instead used six words.
Meet me in the council hall.
Given that Malian, though she resided in the Myamar guildhall, often came to the headquarters to discuss guild affairs with the other elders, Arial had not been completely surprised to hear summons. Even the terse message had not drawn suspicion, as Malian was much like Arial and eschewed cumbersome pretext. When feeling the urgency of her mother's disposition, however, her lazy progress became a hurried walk. She reached the wooden door to the council hall and turned the iron handle. It swung easily on its hinges, opening to admit the sorceress into the large room.

The council room had originally been the throne room of the Urion family before the Chateau became the guild headquarters. The gaudy throne had been removed, and the dais upon which it had stood magically removed so that the floor was even. An enormous mahogany table had been set in the center of the room, with fifteen chairs aligned evenly around it. Bookshelves lined the walls, giving way only to nooks that were filled with various items, from artifacts to vases to weapons, and several tall, narrow windows of small shards of glass set within a thin mesh of iron to prevent exit -- or entry by a skilled thief. At the table sat all of the guild elders, as well as the Marius of Aasya, a loremaster in the order of the Spellgoddess. Marius was known for other reasons however. Thirty years ago, he had been blessed with a vision from the Spellgoddess. In the rapture of her grace, he had spoken the single most influential divine prophecy of the century, what had become known as the Spellfire Prophecies. As a child, Arial had been forced to study them by her numerous tutors. The young girl had protested vehemently, however, seeking instead more opportunity to practice her Art, desiring to learn from experience rather than study. Nonetheless, the words of the long divination had been branded into her mind as if their magic had reached out acting on its own accord. Also in the company were four other individuals. The first was Elrik, castle mage of the nearby city of Waterford. Second and third were Ramithus of Aasya's temple, also in Waterford, as well as a younger priest whom Arial did not know. The last was a complete surprise, for before her sat Matthias.

"Please", Malian motioned to a chair, "sit". The stun of the situation quickly wore off, and the sorceress took a seat.
"We have just come from Waterford, where the Count and I were in contact with the King", Elrik stated. The enchanter was well-known to Arial, who had taken lessons in concentration from him several times when she was in her youth. His chestnut brown hair seemed lighter, with traces of gray to match the telltale wrinkles that were forming around his eyes. The sorceress frowned to herself. He had not even seen forty summers, yet he seemed as if the weight of time was pressing him. His next words hit Arial with the force of Thetor's cudgel, and confirmed her suspicions beyond all doubt.
"Elegrin has returned".
"Ho-?" the sorceress began.
"That's what we're trying to figure out", Marius said. The loremaster seemed particularly perturbed. As a savant of forgotten lore, the priest was a better source of arcane secrets than even archmages.
"We have a lead", Tarkhil said calmly, and the elf gently slid a strange item towards the sorceress. Arial reached out and grasped it. Immediately she felt the throb of power that had once been contained within the item, something extremely rare without the aid of detection spells. Tentatively, she brought it closer and examined it more thoroughly. Her bright green eyes traced every feature, every engraved rune on the item before she found what she was looking for. The top of the item was fashioned to appear like a skeleton's skull, and within the eye sockets were two small triggers. With her slender fingers, the sorceress pushed them in, and a mechanism within the item clicked. Tentatively, Arial lifted the top of the receptacle open a crack and prepared for any sign of it being magically trapped. When she was satisfied that it was safe, the sorceress opened it and peered inside. The contents were vacant, but, unsatisfied, Arial whispered a spell to detect any lingering magic. As the incantation finished, she was assaulted with a brilliant glare that forced her to shut her eyes and push the receptacle away. Cursing, the sorceress rubbed through her eyelids for a minute and then, warily, opened one eye. She saw stars for a few moments, but they disappeared. The expressions on the faces of those at the table showed deep concern.
"That is one of the most powerful auras I have ever seen", the sorceress remarked, taking the receptacle again. "Have you been able to determine what this is?"
"We believe it contained a portion of Elegrin's power at some point", said Elder Chazmyr, a drow ranger. "It was recovered from a necromancer cabal that the Waterford Guard captured a few hours before the news that Elegrin had returned".
"We believe that there are others secreted away throughout the region", Marius said matter-of-factly, "Elegrin would not have been so foolish as to leave only one behind. He also would not have been stupid enough to entrust them to his followers, the lot of black-hearted scum they were. No, they're going to be somewhere secret and secure, safe from a chance passer-by, as well as most amateur treasure-seekers. Elegrin's hubris, however, seems to be our advantage. He did not expect the items to fall into the hands of someone capable of comprehending their significance and using them to locate others. Or, if he did, he underestimated the ability of his enemies. We are close to locating another one, and we require your expertise for a team to retrieve them".
"A team?" Arial echoed, slightly overwhelmed by the entire situation.
"Yourself", Elder Malian began, "as well as Tebryn of Aasya", she motioned to the priest beside High Priest Ramithus, "and Matthias of the Mages Guild", she motioned to Arial's paramour, "who I'm certain you know already". If looks could kill, Arial's mother would have been nothing more than a bloody stain on the back wall.
"Please be quick in your decision", Marius prompted, "time is of the essense". Turning her attention back to the matter-at-hand, Arial quickly considered. Normally, she tried to exploit what she was most interested in when an offer was presented to her. This, however, was a far different case. Her decision would, in all probability, affect all life in Diona, including her own. In the span of a heartbeat, she readily answered.
"I accept".

**Ristaron** · 03-26-2008, 03:11 AM

Wouldn't you know it, I had to take out my "Post Script", so to speak, because it put me over the 15,000-character-limit. Anyways, here it is.

Thanks for reading, more to come. If I may implore you all to keep the chatter limited, that way this thread won't get clogged for when I post chapter 2. Comments are welcome, as are constructive criticisms. Try to phrase everything in the form of a compliment, too.

--------------- Added 27 Mar 2008 at 02:02 am ---------------

Chapter Two

"I hate to be a third wheel", Tebryn began tentatively, "but since I'm here, might I inquire as to whether or not either of you have paid any mind to the individuals following our progress?"
"Way ahead of you, priest", Arial replied with a touch of disdain. The sorceress and Matthias had been aware of their pursuers for some time, and were forming a plan to thwart the ambush that would no doubt take place at the bluff up ahead. Tebryn's brash remark had threatened to compromise their cover. Arial sighed under her breath. Ever since they had embarked, two days past, the tall red-haired priest had been more akin to a nuisance than a contributing team member. His experience tracking wild-items was his only redeeming quality, in the eyes of the sorceress.
Matthias surreptitiously slowed his pace, just enough to allow the priest to come to even pace with the couple.
"There's a blind-bluff up ahead", the scribe informed, "we're undoubtedly going to meet them there; Arial and I were deciding how we should meet them". Tebryn subconsciously touched the mace at his hip, somewhat concealed by the large red cloak he wore over his robes.
"Hopefully we can dispatch of them before any physical combat is required", Arial remarked disdainfully at the priest. The sorceress had already noted that nobody in the trio was exceptionally proficient in combat. Their task had demanded the discipline of spellcasters, anything else would have been nothing more than baggage.
"Hopefully", Tebryn echoed, "but I'd still like to be ready for surprises".

As the trio approached the bluff, they called to mind spells that seemed appropriate. As they turned to round the bluff, they each had a grip on the wands inside their robes. Though magic was an Art one could wield without the use of a focus, many wandmakers made a fortune creating tools to increase the potency of a spell cast using a special kind of wand as a somatic component. Unlike the wands that stored a single spell to be discharged on command, these items held no power of their own. They were simply an instrument for the spellcaster to focus their Art. By the time the trio came around the bend, they were fully prepared for a royal welcome.

Before them stood a man, clad in worn leather armour. The rough vest was in poor condition, with only a few of its original metal studs still attached. At the highwayman's hip was a short sword, and in his hand -- almost completely concealed beneath his folded arms -- was a hand-crossbow.
"Greetings, travellers!" he called jovially, "a fine winter's day for a ride, I see". He indicated the mounts that bore the trio.
"So it is", Matthias replied, matching the man's auspicious tone.
"A good thing this road is free of dangerous wild", the highwayman prattled, "if only it were a more rewarding job to guard the safety of those who trek along its stretch". Tebryn could not contain a small grin at the cleverness of the vagabond. A guard of the roads indeed!
"Alas", Matthias said with a hint of sadness inserted into his tone, "if only we had a tithe to offer your noble heart, but we are weary travelers in possession of nothing more than the clothes on our backs and the faithful steeds we procured at the grace of the Count of Waterford". The highwayman's smile wavered, and he inclined his head as if to admire the wildlife.
"A true shame tha-" his sentence was cut short by the roaring inferno that Arial had evoked on his position, a blazing fireball that consumed the highwayman entirely. Within a heartbeat, Matthias had summoned a protective wall of force that deflected the hail of arrows and bolts from above, and Tebryn had sent a ray of searing light into a poorly-concealed archer.

As another barrage pounded on the invisible wall, Arial elegantly finished another incantation. Five magical projectiles of pure force sprang from her wand and made a beeline for another poorly hidden highwayman on a rocky outcrop thirty feet above the road. This individual had the sense to try to evade the spell, but it was a futile effort. The missiles knew their target and altered course to match, slamming into his chest with enough force that if he wasn't killed outright, they pushed him over the edge of his perch so that the fall would finish the job. Matthias also had begun another incantation, but in the heat of the battle his mount frighted. It reared, and the scribe had to abandon his spell to grab hold of the reigns so as not to be thrown from the beast's back. He cursed as an arrow whizzed by his head, almost scraping his temple. A moment later Tebryn brought the archer down with another well-aimed ray of searing fire. The remaining highwaymen scattered, instantly knowing their error in underestimating the trio.

Finally getting a handle on his horse, Matthias calmed his steed and dispelled the wall of force.
"And you wanted to take the trails", he scoffed mockingly at the sorceress, "look at the fun we would have missed!" With a barely contained smile, Arial kicked her horse forward.
"Let's just get to Evertide", she said with feigned exasperation. But even if one wasn't familiar with the sorceress' penchant for destruction, they would not have been able to miss the twinkle in her emerald eyes. Yes, today was a day worth living.

**Ristaron** · 03-27-2008, 07:33 PM

Is anybody reading this? I would have expected at least one person to respond by now...

**SeaStone** · 03-28-2008, 11:49 PM

Well, I remember reading some when you first posted it, but I got side tracked and never came back.

It was good and I can remember enjoying it, but the format on the page is tiresome to the eye. Could you double space? I know it makes the page much bigger, but would be easier to see. Or you could at least have a space after a paragraph.

**Ristaron** · 03-29-2008, 02:31 AM

Quote:

Originally Posted by SeaStone

Well, I remember reading some when you first posted it, but I got side tracked and never came back.

It was good and I can remember enjoying it, but the format on the page is tiresome to the eye. Could you double space? I know it makes the page much bigger, but would be easier to see. Or you could at least have a space after a paragraph.

First off: thank you for posting. I was beginning to think that I was posting this to a fucking wall.

Second off: I do space paragraphs, but I use a style of writing unique to myself. This includes an occasional semi-indented paragraph that is intended to provide prosody for the reader. I want my work to be read as I write it, with each comma, apostrophe, and indentation considered. I have clawed my ears at people reading some works aloud. They bastardize it by reading allegro (fast) with no regard for punctuation. And I can't insert commas everywhere for the sake of tempo, as it's grammatically incorrect. That leaves spacing the most important elements so that they will receive the proper deference.

Thirdly: I will see about double-spacing the next one; I will tinker with the formatting on BT. If it makes it easier to read...

**Ginevra** · 03-31-2008, 02:35 PM

I found it interesting and well written. Your vocab is awesome, although I already knew that to some extent. I hadn't seen this until I was browsing around blogs yesterday. It's good thing there isn't more because I need to go to work. XD

I found it neat that you referred to years as summers, I don't know if that had to do with Guild Wars or whatever or if that was you. Although the thing about hiding pieces of his soul in various places sounded quite Voldemort and horcruxes to me.

If you keep writing I'll keep reading. ^-^

**Ristaron** · 03-31-2008, 02:46 PM

The summers were my idea. "Years" is a rather modern-sounding measure of time to me, and it also sounds culturally-based. Every different culture has a slightly different measurement of time, but summer only comes once a year.

I actually was influenced a little bit by Voldemort's Horcruxes, but if you play Dungeons and Dragons (which this is based on, the character is one of my avatars in Guild Wars but she's always been the D&D Sorceress to me) you might have figured out that this was a preliminary version of the Clone spell, from the school of Necromancy. Since Elegrin is the most powerful Necromancer of the time, it's not a difficult leap to assume that he created the spell, starting from an earlier version of another spell, Magic Jar.

Yeah, D&D is awesome.

I'm working on the next chapter right now. I have about 300 words, I'm trying to make every sentence worth it because there is a 15,000 character limit on posts here and I don't want to double-post. It's proving interesting.

**Ristaron** · 04-08-2008, 11:21 PM

The sun was nearly below the mountains when the thunderheads that had rolled in from the East, over the ocean, finally caught up with it. Arial, despite her heavy wool cloak and drawn hood, shivered in her saddle. Diona received the most precipitation of all the Ten Kingdoms, and though it in turn provided some of the most fertile land in the region, the sorceress had never enjoyed the frequent showers.
“You're brooding”, Matthias poked. Arial replied with a nongynic grunt.
“Still angry about the elusive quarry?” Tebryn teased. The priest had found it supremely amusing when the sorceress had failed her attempt to capture a nearby deer with a well-aimed, telekinetically-controlled cage Matthias had magically fabricated from nearby branches. When she missed, Arial had angrily launched a series of beams of blazing fire after the deer as it pranced away.
“Mind your tongue, priest”, the sorceress warned testily, “or I'll transmute it into lead”. A disapproving scowl from Matthias caught the corner of Arial's emerald eyes. She turned to regard the scribe, who wore a look of concern at the blue tinge to the sorceress' lips.
“I'm cold”, she grumbled, shaking her shoulders, sending rivulets of excess water from her soaked cloak.
“I don't have anything helpful prepared”, Matthias said apologetically.
“You have your spellbook”, Arial reminded him assertively.
“We're almost there”, the scribe responded as they crested a tall hill. Indeed, he was right. Scarcely a mile away, even through the downpour, the town could be seen.
“Another two hours”, Tebryn estimated as he joined them a moment later. The priest's short red hair was plastered to his scalp in the rain, making him seem squirrely. His heavy wool cloak was drenched, and the red robes he wore underneath were beginning to absorb the excess moisture that soaked through. The garments clung to the priest's deceptively muscular body, betraying the combat training that had prepared him for his previous relic-hunting escapades. Arial had to give the man some respect; even Matthias – whose body she knew intimately – wasn't as fit as the priest.
“We'd best be under way if we mean to arrive before nightfall”, the scribe said, kicking his mount into motion.

**

Two guards were posted at the main gate, a pitiful sight compared to the prodigious appertures of Diona city and Waterford. Even the guild headquarters had a more impressive gate.
“Your name and business”, called one of the guards, holding his spear tightly at his side. Arial nearly laughed. The man had probably seen fifty summers, and wouldn't have been able to skewer a rabbit if it stood still at the end of his spear. The sorceress may have simply brushed by without a word if Tebryn hadn't spoken first.
“We are travellers seeking shelter from the storm”, the priest said from under his sodden hood, “our business is our own affair”. Arial scowled to herself. Even though dismissive, the priest afforded the guards the benefit of the doubt. The older guard narrowed his wrinkled eyes as if to see more clearly through the rain. After scrutinizing the mounted adventurers for a moment, he gave a half hearted “bah” and waved them through the open gate. A glint of metal caught Arial's eye from the battlement above the gate, and after focusing on the spot for a moment saw another guard through the haze. He was removing the bolt from his crossbow, having deducd that the travellers weren't a threat.
Lucky for him, the sorceress smiled, wet, metal armour channels electricity very well.

Evertide was like most towns along the coast. Gambrel-roofed houses were arranged along narrow cobblestone streets, standing almost roof-to-roof in neat rows. Though most of the houses were composed of timber, one of Diona's major exports, several flagstone buildings appeared on street corners, indicating official enterprises. The entire city was enclosed within a wall that was more to keep out owlbears and displacer beasts than to thwart invasion. With its three major gates, West and South for major trade routes and East to the docks, Evertide wouldn't have been able to withstand a siege if the fate of the Ten Kingdoms rested upon it. Drunken sailors abounded, enjoying shore leave in one of the cheaper ports along the Shining Coast.

Pebblebrook Cove, the natural harbour that Evertide was built along, was more of a very deep inlet. Far below the water's surface was a network of natural caves that extended far beneath the city itself. When the tide came in, these caves, which were always partially submerged, filled with more water. When the tide went out, the water level in the caves dropped, replenishing the amount in the bay. Consequently, the bay's water level remained nearly constant, earning the town it's name.

Despite the dreary weather and being soaked to the core, Matthias could not help but smile as the trio dismounted. Everything was exactly as he remembered it. Every strand of ivy was in exactly the same place, every facade exactly the same – except perhaps for a little weather damage over the past few years. A warm feeling filled his breast, in spite of the chill.
He was home.

“This way”, the scribe guided his horse by the reigns towards a rather nondescript building. A plain sign reading 'Brin's Bed and Breakfast' hung above the wooden door, and a sturdy stable built off the side of the building already contained a few fine steeds. Coaxing their mounts into the stalls, they slipped a copper to the stableboy who emerged from a side-door, before returning to the front entrance.
The inside of the building was a stark contrast to its outer appearance. Rich rugs lay on the floor, with a fine set of furniture facing a roaring fireplace in one corner. A polished mahogany bar stood in the other corner, a door leading to the kitchen beside it. The rest of the entrance – a sizeable portion of the main floor – was devoted to tables and seating. A few patrons sat among the tables, tankards of ale and wine, as well as delicious-smelling meals, before them. As the adventurors began to strip away their sodden outer clothing, the door to the kitchen opened and a staturely woman of about thirty summers, bearing three plates emerged. Her long blond hair was drawn back behind her head in a loose braid, and her blue eyes immediately set on her target. Crossing to the table with a few strides, she placed the plates before their respective patrons.
“Enjoy”, she said in a heavy accent. Then, turning toward the front door, pursed her full lips for a proper greeting to the new guests. Then her blue eyes saw Matthias.

“Hello, Brin”, the scribe greeted with a smirk.
“Well I'll be damned”, she replied with a smirk and started towards the trio, “when did ye get thy book-bound arse inter town?” She gave the other adventurors a cursory glance. “And who be thy friends?”
The proprietess took their wet cloaks in her arm and indicated a table.
“We've just arrived”, Matthias informed, “and we're looking for a place to stay the night”. The trio took seats in a booth secluded from the rest of the establishment.
“Well”, Brin replied, “ye've come ter the right place. How long're ye gonner stay? Ye won't take off without givin' this lass a proper goodbye this time, right?”
“Certainly not”, Matthias conceded, “we shall be in town for the next few days, I imagine”.
“Depends if the town lasts that long”, Arial muttered under her breath, her emerald eyes glaring at the blond proprietess.
“Jealous?” Tebryn quietly chimed. His face contorted for a brief moment as a fierce kick was delivered under the table.
“I've got three rooms for ye”, Brin informed.
“Two will suffice”, Tebryn informed politely. The blond's blue eyes darted briefly between the priest and the sorceress. This time the kick elicited a grunt.
Matthias picked several gold coins from his coinpurse and poured them into Brin's hand.
“That should cover us for a week”, he said, “now how about some of your finest ale?”

**

“She's chatty”, Arial remarked as the trio retired to their rooms. Hours had passed since their arrival, and the trio was beleaguered from the trek thus far.
“She's got quite a past”, Matthias replied. The sorceress didn't miss the slight slur in his speech.
“I'm sure”, she replied as she reached the top of the stairs. Matthias' hand came forward and gently grasped her wrist.
“You aren't jealous, are you?” he asked, unable to tame the corners of his mouth.
“Of that wench?” the sorceress asked incredulously. Matthias chuckled, his breath smelled like ale, but Arial didn't retreat when the scribe moved closer. Leaning back against the wall and tracing her hands along Matthias' chest as the scribe leaned in, Arial closed her eyes as their lips met in the dim corridor. They remained in that position for several moments before the sorceress gently pulled back and pressed her index finger against the man's lips.
“Let's continue this discussion in our room”.

**Opunaya** · 04-09-2008, 06:32 AM

Like I mentioned on your blog, I've printed all three chapters out at once so I can read them at home since while at work, I'm suppose to be, you know, working...so I'll let you know something tomorrow, hopefully.

Also, are you writing this just to write it? Or are you hoping to make it in to a book? How many chapters are you going for?

**Ristaron** · 04-09-2008, 10:39 AM

At present I'm fleshing out the story that's been in my head for a while. I'm not certain how many chapters I will have, the first ones were limited to 15,000 characters because I hadn't realized that I could use the edit function to circumvent the character-limit on our posts.

When it's finished I am probably going to try to get it published. This story is not only the genesis of the Arial Fortuna character, but also the introduction to a new campaign setting that I have made for D&D. Wizards might be interested.