[Lady Moreta]

Originally Posted by Dr Bwaa

(for instance) to see what I mean (this one, for example).

Heehee, that was hilarious

Originally Posted by Lord_Gareth

Alright, permit me to refresh the collective memories - the four Seasons are the Seasonal Courts, governing bodies among Changelings/The Lost. Normally, the four Courts share power by ceding it to each Court in its proper season - so in Spring, Spring rules, et cetera. All of them are joined in resisting the Gentry (also known as the True Fae), who compose the elite troops and generals of the Host of a Thousand Princes - a vast army of the Gentry come to claim the mortal world and incorporate it into Arcadia.

And all of a sudden things become clear. I think I had it in my head that the various Courts were on different sides. I have no idea why and now that I think about it, it seems an awfully silly thing to be thinking

Originally Posted by SleepyShadow

Yes, Moreta, as Bwaa said I do have a player that often breaks the fourth wall.

My group tends to do the same thing fairly frequently. I just - ignore that, when I write.

Other comments...

Spoiler

Originally Posted by SleepyShadow

"Nope," Lupin said as he clambered up onto the stage. "You're a cat-girl in an anime horror game. Enough said."

"Tentacles," Derive said darkly.

hilarious - I love it when they're genre-savvy

Originally Posted by SleepyShadow

Suddenly the floor beneath Lucy's feet shifted and gave way, and she screamed in terror as she plummeted into the darkness below.

I have no idea why (so you may be better off ignoring me), but this sentence bugs me. I think it's the terror... it just seems a bit too strong an emotion. Nothing else up to this point really suggests that any of them are that freaked out (Lucy shuddering notwithstanding). It just feels like surprise would be a better emotion here... and perhaps the terror can be something lingering they can hear in her voice once they've checked she's all right.

Originally Posted by SleepyShadow

The swordsage withdrew a tiny clockwork pistol from his pocket and rapidly spun a small gear on the side. The tiny gadget clicked noisily for several moments until it produced a small flame from the barrel of the pistol.

I love gadgets I like the description you give us here... it's good.

Originally Posted by SleepyShadow

"Huh?" the cat-girl called out in confusion, looking away from the particularly sparkly piece of dust she had found.

Heehee awesome. And I love the way they con her into coming over and checking it out anyway.

Originally Posted by SleepyShadow

Projected onto gauzy silver screens were the images of men in black suits, each one adorned with a blank white mask with no mouth or eyes. Lucy sat in front of the screens, her eyes transfixed on the silent film before her.

Okay, creepy. I fully expected to find out Lucy had failed a will save or something... then she just starts up and moving around with no problems. I don't know if you did it deliberately or not, but it's very effective. Build up the tension and then - nothing happens. Reminds me of a scene in The Sixth Sense where they're doing everything they can with the action and the music and everything to build up the tension and then... a cat walks across the screen. (Scared the crap out of almost everyone in the cinema when I saw it.)

Originally Posted by SleepyShadow

Suddenly, the figures on the screen reached up in unison and pulled away their masks. However, before the investigators could see what was hidden behind the masks, the projectors came to a screeching halt and the images vanished, blanketing the tiny room in thick blackness.

"Is that good?" Lucy asked nervously.

And then you beautifully bring the creepy and the tension back. Love it and found myself wanting to shake my head at Lucy and tell her that no, it is not good.

And... I actually wrote something the other day! Well, the other day and a year ago... The character is one I played for a couple of weeks in my RL campaign when my usual character died and we went on a side-quest to get enough diamonds to resurrect her. This is backstory from my temporary character... and I warn you in advance, it's not very good. I started writing this about a year ago, with a plan for where it was gonna go and all... then I stopped writing (for about a year) and found it the other day, when I decided that I just wanted the damn thing finished. And since I can't remember what the 'plan' was, I just whacked an ending on it. I personally, think it's a rather hodge-podge effort and it shows. I just don't care

A New Name

Spoiler

My eyes were burning. I’d like to be able to deny that they were tears, but, as so many of my friends and classmates have told me, I am nothing if not honest. Ironic really, considering my choice of career. I stood in a pokey little room at the top of a tower in what was probably the oldest part of the Ariaethus. And considering it was run by a 500-year-old elf, that was pretty damn old. I’m sure the room had a proper and correct name, and once upon a time I would have cared. Honesty and curiosity. If there are two traits a person can possess more likely to get them killed than those two, I don’t know what they are. And I have both in spades. Lucky me.

It was raining. Not a light summer shower that invited you out to run and chase a rainbow. Nor, alas, was it a heavy thunderstorm that made you glad to be inside and to have an excuse to curl up in front of a blazing fire with a hot drink. No, it was a type of rain fairly typical for this time of year, not that that made it any better. A steady heavy fall, more than a drizzle, but not so heavy as to be a storm. Dark grey clouds overhead, so tightly packed that, though they were probably moving steadily onwards, it was impossible to tell. Wasn’t it just my luck that I had to go out in that rain?

I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. Adventures never start out the way you want or expect them too. Not that this was an adventure. This was real life, my life. And when had my life ever gone according to plan?

“He’s dead. We have to leave.”

“No, I won’t leave him!”

“You have to. Calia, your father was just about the only person holding the kingdom together! You have to know this wasn’t an accident. And that makes you a target.”

“That’s ridiculous. I can’t take Father’s place; I haven’t reached my majority yet.”

“You’re only a few years away. Do you want to spend the next six years constantly looking over your shoulder?”

“I could…”

“Take a bodyguard? Yes, you could. You could ask Marnd, he’d love the chance to die for you. Or perhaps a taster, to check for poison. You’ve always been fond of the servants here, which of them will you choose? Or will it be-“

“ENOUGH! Enough Uncle. I take your point. What do you suggest I do?”

“Leave. Don’t stop to pack, get out of the palace, steal a horse and ride. Don’t stop and don’t look back.”

“Don’t you think stealing will make me just a tad conspicuous?”

“Don’t be absurd Calia, you’re better than that. Get to that bardic school you’re always talking about. Learn, travel, understand. I’ll send for you when it’s safe.”

“There’s really no other way?”

“No. And Calia? You’ll need a new name.”

And so here I stand, watching the rain fall, wondering if the old slate titles on this roof will continue to hold up under the onslaught. I’d almost forgotten that conversation. I remember thinking how unlike Father it was to be late for such an important event. I remember thinking he must have forgotten something and returned to our chambers to get it. I remember planning to tease him, for having an old grey head that forgot things.

Instead I got the gut-wrenching sight of the only parent I had left, lying bloody and broken on the pavement. Uncle Norchan had taken one look and immediately realised he must have been pushed or throw from our apartments above. All I can remember is the ruin I made of the gown I had been wearing that night. My favourite dress, champagne silk and ivory, loose flowing sleeves, patterned sash. Father’s blood soaked into the long sleeves as I pulled him into my arms, desperate. Uncle Norchan had ripped the blood-stained parts of my dress away, sleeves and the long hem, and sent me pelting through the servant’s corridors out into the city and out of the country. Everything happened so quickly after that, that it wasn’t until I was well on my way that it occurred to me how much fear had been in his voice.

But I did as I was told. I made it to the Ariaethus, looking nothing like the nobleman’s daughter I was, got accepted, and discovered that my voice was just as good as I’d always been told. And I had a new name.

The rain is getting heavier. I should have left this morning, before the rains came. I could have been safely tucked away in a roadside inn by now – or at the very least, tucked away inside a tent. Instead, I’m standing out here, getting wetter by the second, and putting off the journey I know I must make. I’m honest enough (and there goes that word again) to admit that I’m afraid. I’m afraid that my new name will not protect me outside the confines of the Ariaethus. I am afraid that the sheltered life I have led has left me woefully unprepared for the life I now must live. I’m afraid of being caught, of being tortured, of being found out for who I am. I wish with all my heart that I was going somewhere else. I wish I was someone else.

“Terryn? Are you ready to go?” I turned around at the sound of Lance’s voice behind me. He and I were to travel back to Celadia together and he had been surprisingly easy-going about my dragging my feet. From the kind and gentle look he was giving me, I think he knew I didn’t want to leave. I’m fairly certain though, he thought my reluctance had to do with the fiasco around Nadriene which to be honest, I’d forgotten all about. “We should get going,” he sounded apologetic, the poor man, when it was I who should be apologising to him.

“Yes, of course,” I said, moving towards him. “I’m sorry…” I gave him a sheepish look and he smiled at me and moved backwards into the shelter of the tower. We walked in silence down the stairs to the main building. There was no one to farewell us, that had been done the previous night – only our packs and wet-weather gear waited by the side entrance. Somehow, as I tugged a hopefully rainproof cloak over my already sodden shoulders, that seemed appropriate. Slipping away into the night seemed entirely appropriate to my new profession. Lance checked the waterproof wrappings on his lute and handed me a warm scarf.

“If we’re going to pay our way to Celadia, we need to protect our instruments” he said with a warm smile. I took the scarf and wound it around my throat, but all I could see were hundreds of childhood memories of someone, my father, my mother, my brother, wrapping a scarf around my neck. Then the images faded and I was left with the memory of my father’s blood soaking into my silk dress; the sight of my brother’s broken neck and my mother’s fever-wasted body. And I admitted that what I was afraid of most – was failing the people I loved and who had loved me.

I shifted my shoulders and settled the pack so it was balanced. Uncle Norchan had reassured me that someone would meet me in Celadia. All I had to do was be on the lookout for this ‘Norrin’ person. I tugged the hood over my head, smiled at Lance and marched out into the rainy night.

My name is Terryn Nor. I will make my family proud.