Tales By The Fire

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  Teapot in a Tempest
  • acmefalls

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  Sebrienne's Journal
  • Robyn

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  Ghosts Sebrienne stood on some nameless mountain in the Giant Spires. A pillar, centuries old, left abandoned without name or purpose stood on a pedestal some 30 paces to the north. The cold wind whipped the blue and white gown about her, her hair flung sideways. She had stopped feeling the cold a few years ago, the lack of sensation creeping so slowly it almost went unnoticed. She stood there, and gazed out across the expanse of the mountain range, haunted by the words of the old seer “Your future is marred by the ash and cinder of what you have done. Ghosts howl, and grasp at your heels as you move forward. Vanquish them, or be consumed by them, and have no future at all” The scorched and half melted symbol of Lathander, once owned by a small boy rested in her grasp, worn smooth by the incessant rubbing of sweaty hands. The deaths in the market were forgivable. She was barely five years old and wasn’t even aware of her power. The brigands in the monastery? They had deserved it. But the caravan… The ghosts of the caravan still haunted her. The faces, what was left of them burned indelibly into her mind stared back. Peasants, merchants and their children just traveling to Calimport. At 14 years of age, Sebrienne was most assuredly aware of her power. But she had used it carelessly as the guards had approached to detain her. She had let her fear consume her, that and anger being the lens of her sorcery. She once had the opportunity to have her powers stripped in restitution, but what purpose would it have served? She had consoled herself at the time with the knowledge that the past was immutable, and the only direction was forward. But now she wasn’t sure. Had justice been served? Tears came unbidden, freezing quickly on her face and scattering downwind. How could she reconcile the innocent lives that were in essence, the stepping stones to her climb to power? Was she, Sebrienne, the wicked one? The rage that bubbled up inside at that thought could have been quelled. She possessed the discipline to control it. This time she chose not to. The air split as Sebrienne shrieked, sending snow and ice hurling outwards around her. In her mind, the faces of the dead lined themselves up on the pillar like some grotesque totem, and the subsequent lightning strike blotted out their visages. She let the rage consume her. Hands worked unconsciously in arcane harmony as lightning cascaded outward. The pillar began to darken, and as the lightning continued it began to glow a soft red. Power that was usually measured and restrained leapt outward in continuous fury. The white hot lightning eclipsed her vision, her judgement, and most of all the faces of the dead. She barely even noticed when the pillar sundered, and the lightning was directed towards the heavens. As lightning rippled along the mountain top, far above and behind her the clouds roiled in symphony.
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  The return of Cray Vincint
  • Guest

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  This topic is deleted!
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  Lifeblood of the Jewel- The Senators of Peltarch
  • Caoimh

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  In a distant tower, a weathered copy of this book made its way into the hands of a scholar. As his icy blue eyes scanned the pages, they lingered for a moment over a certain chapter. Had he any surviving capacity for emotion, he would have smiled slightly, a combination of pride for what once was and sorrow for what was no longer. But he had none, so he did not.
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  A History of the Defiler by Eluriel Triallanravan
  • its_a_fire

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  Collected Works of Reyhenna Jorino
  • Caoimh

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  Limericks by Elizabeth Fisher ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀Reyhenna Jorino Volume III - Family I was born, you'll have heard, in the gutter, In the mud, without bread, without butter. ⠀ ⠀ I fought to survive, ⠀ ⠀ 'till I felt alive- Just my name, all alone, that I'd utter. ‎ Then I came to the wild country Narfell, Upon this cold, austere coast, did I dwell. ⠀ ⠀ 'Twas in fair Peltarch, ⠀ ⠀ That I made my mark- Now too soon my home bids me farewell. ‎ So farewell to my uncle, my King! Your smile bore away all life's sting- ⠀ ⠀ For all that you gave, ⠀ ⠀ Your reward is the grave, Of your charm and your wit still they sing. ‎ Farewell to my father, the Regent, For family, for me, a life spent. ⠀ ⠀ For love of my lie, ⠀ ⠀ I left you to die Now I'll never repair what's been rent- ‎ Farewell to my cousin, our heir, Who knows well that life is unfair. ⠀ ⠀ Fresh off my knee, ⠀ ⠀ His back turned on me Just one more burden he'll bear. ‎ Farewell to our pious king Thalaman, Adrift in his Court without plan. ⠀ ⠀ He undid my wish ⠀ ⠀ For the good of the Fish How I hope it can stay in the pan- ‎ Farewell to Elizabeth Fisher, And farewell to the fools who will miss her. ⠀ ⠀ It seemed real to me, ⠀ ⠀ But it wasn't to be Just another Kordam'ned wisher. ‎ So thus has our pious King spoken, And I'm left with my life as a token. ⠀ ⠀ For what did it matter, ⠀ ⠀ To so easily shatter A fighter that's always been broken.
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  A Tributory of Ravos Calchais
  • Darkpowder

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  The Dream of Death He awoke from the back of the caravan, the straps of his arming jacket having long since started to rub him raw, but the sores and sweat of the accutrements of fullplate were now second nature since he abandoned the lightly armoured jerkins and chain of light cavalry. A reek of a very familiar nature blew in from the direction of the lazy smoked chimneys of the village ahead as the mist still lay upon the air still only an hour or so after dawn. The smell didn't bother him. He always called to mind the scent of the sea whenever he had the fouler stench of the enemies' fear, his unwashed gear or body or spilled entrails. Or the salty sick smell of a battlefield lake of blood. For a moment he was back on the waves, but then he drove the escapism from his mind embracing the moment as the cart stopped. The wagonner grunted, and brought the heavy horses expertly to a halt. Ravos looked across at the other 3 wagons, draped with other familiar and unfamiliar faces. He'd forgotten how many unnamed towns had lost contact with their neighbours and he was already pulling his plate from an oiled bag, and dismounting with a thud as his muscled frame splashed into the sodden ground boots-first. He rubbed his eyes a moment, unsure whether he was still dreaming, and for a few moments after he girt on his sword recalled the dream, knowing that if he was still asleep he may have more of the tale of the night to continue. For a moment, as it has been these past 15 years or more, as the man seemingly to approach his mid 40s recalled images swam from some prediction of the future, rememberence of the past or some other past told to him in tales. It was only in battle now he regained immediacy and focus, like something had been neglected as the phantom shapes, scenes and faces flashed across his eyes. Silent burning of prisoners or victims, echoed by a silent crowd of bored onlookers, or onlookers in horror. A man tied to a chair split in twain with a battleaxe through to his sternum his viscera splilling out over a table of papers and disgarded coin. A foul-looking dark bearded figure almost half leering over him after being driven from his feet in the heat of battle, the man streaming with tears and a grimace of glory at the same time. A colourful but mournful procession of the dead with bodies streaming blood carried over their shoulders, the encumbered procession wearing hollowed out expressions of grief and resignation. Piercing white eyes across a delicate female face clutching at his head in concentration while he half-choked in a vapourous fell-air of incense and burning woodfires. "HEY! are you with us...." Called a alightly arrogant voice from the figure of a female figure who's aspect and phsycality almost hurt to behold in it's form, just for a moment before any distracting thoughts were driven from his consciousness. An almost comforting dim pale red, almost pink glow arose from the gems in his sword as almost an imperceptible hum encompassed the magical blade now drawn in his hand "Ill be right there.", Ravos called back and he raised his sword to rest upon his shoulder now that the now visible bodies in the cold morning light were now not as still as once expected. The first blows were issued, and the dream was forgotten. [Thanks to Bastage and to the players in the 2022 Halloween Event]
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  Logs and Records of Seeker Lancord
  • digit

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  [Adventure Log - 37N] We did it, we rescued Carmil!!! Hesh appeared while Rosie and I were in the craft hall- angry. He blamed me for Carmil being kidnapped, and adventurers for being “trinket hoarding idiots getting involved in things they shouldn’t!” I had thought Hesh had something to do with it, I was so confused. He asked us why we would think he’d take Carmil, and Rosie suggested “To make Elliott do things?” He grabbed me by my neck, and through my choking told Rosie that he had other ways of getting us to do things. He then declared that Rosie and I were going to go save Carmil for him. He gave us two wands, a red and a blue- the red to use on ourselves, and blue on Carmil when we found him. He then left, telling me my inventions were uninspired and trash. …Hesh is a dick. But he’s smart, a research genius. If that’s his feedback… its not that I feel I have to impress him, but I thought I was becoming more accomplished. Getting somewhere, after all my travels, trials, errors and repairs. Am I still the same old kid making the same old shoddy copies in the temple workstation, watching my peers with jealousy and exhaustion? Ah, this is derailing- Anyway, when we used the red wand, Rosie and I were transformed! I became a fire elemental, and Rosie an elder fire elemental! A gate also appeared before us, and when we stepped through, we were in Zephyr’s pleasure palace. But this time, it was different. The air elementals were not jovial and partying- in fact, they were nowhere to be seen. There were these strange swirling vortexes made of dust, and glowing red eyes. Luckily, they paid us no mind. We then ran into one of Cindergrin’s lackeys, who complained to us about how he’d rather return to the plane of fire, but hey, at least they were almost done “processing” the air elementals. At that ominous note, we made our way further in. The chamber where we left the elemental chaos behind before. Carmil was now imprisoned with it, working on it in some way, with a gaunt look on his face. He was pale, skinny, his eyes so sullen- he was literally being worked to death! The chaos now took the shape of an orb, crackling. Cindergrin stood before this, with an earth elemental that seemed to be leaking magma from cracks in its surface. Cackling, and berating Carmil for being too slow. Zephyr then pushed past us to talk with Cindergrin. He was in his humanoid form but something was… different. He was much more ominous. The ashen skin, black clothes, oh, and the lava dripping out of his eyes. Zephyr told Cindergrin that humans needed sleep and food regularly to function, gesturing to Carmil. Cindergrin laughed at him. He told Zephyr that he wondered what would happen if a human was “processed”, and reminded him that half his people were now “processed” like he was. That his grand plan had blown up in his face. Did he expect it to go this way? To be hoodwinked? Maybe Dust would still let him have his floating rock of a palace when they were done. Zephyr spat that he ate Cindergrin’s lava cake, and pushed his way out. Cindergrin and his guard left as well, and Rosie and I were alone with Carmil. We got to him, and he was in a bad way. And… this time, we wouldn’t leave that chaos behind. After a bit of poking and pleading Carmil to stay awake just long enough to tell us how to take it, he pointed at a pair of gloves. If they were worn, the chaos could be handled. Then, our disguises dropped!!! I tapped Carmil with the blue wand, and he vanished. Rosie was fearless!! She grabbed the orb after putting on the gloves, and held it firm- despite it wobbling and distorting in her grasp, seeming so uncomfortable! I tried to tap her with the blue wand, and… nothing happened The blue wand was for Carmil. Hesh didn’t give us a way out. As if on cue with our panic, Zephyr appeared, staring us down. He then simply said “watch your head”, and suddenly, with a huge gust of wind, we were falling… falling… and crashed onto the floor of the Peltarch craft hall- Rosie still holding the orb! The tanner yelled that something had fallen in the basin, and we managed to pull Carmil out. With a hug, pancakes, and the shock of the water, he was more awake, and seeing Rosie stand, wobbling with the orb, said something along the lines of- “Oh cool, Raazi has the orb, how fun! …..oh shit CAREFUL!” He ran over to the tools chest, and urged Rosie to drop it in, proceeding to sit on the lid as the box bulged and made all sorts of noises. He told us that Cindergrin was having him forge it into something that could be attached to a weapon. That processing was something that Cindergrin was using to turn elementals into other elementals. And that he would make a space in his tower to take the orb, but desperately needed some rest and time to get that all in order, but he’d be back for the orb shortly. He then teleported away. …The fish I had put in there for Toast to find was horribly mutated. That orb is not to be trifled with. Rosie seemed very curious about what it could do to her if she touched it, but restrained herself, taking her own leave. I left Latka in front of the toolbox, guarding it from wandering hands or little thieving lizard mouths (I fear so much what would happen if Toast tried to take it-) and am recording this in the craft hall, watching over it as I do. Latka has faced little issue, and I’ve gotten to snuggle Toast a whole bunch! A nice treat, in the midst of it all. I’m glad Carmil is safe again… I’m so worried about Shazen and Vaxis still being missing- are they captured as well? Are they at risk of being processed? Zephyr… why did he help us? There’s so much to unpack- I’ll theorize more tomorrow. For now, my son demanding cuddles is a top priority.
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  Meadow
  • Robyn

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  Reflections The sailboat lay anchored in a small cove. The surface of the water was serene, and reflected the moon and stars above. Meadow sat on the railing facing west, watching a glimmer of light touch the eastern sky. George was still asleep below. She still had trouble sleeping, always rising before dawn. It was the price of being on night shift she supposed, but knew in time she’d acclimate to a more normal schedule. With a deep exhale, she regarded her reflection in the mirror like stillness of the water below. The woman that stared back was older and more seasoned than she remembered. She dwelt upon the years past, and wondered if George would still love her if he knew of the things she’d done. Who she had prayed to and why. As far as the occupying Mulhorandi knew, the compound in Uthalass was like any other farm community. Crops, two barns, livestock and living quarters for twenty to thirty people. In all the years she spent there, they never discovered it housed a cult that aided the resistance. It was in one of the fields that her little six-year-old self had earned the name “Meadow”. She knew she had another name prior, but it was lost in time. Belaise, the cult leader recruited the young, impressionable and desperate. He and two subordinates trained them. Some did not survive. Some tried to run and were hunted and killed. Most enjoyed the power and skills that Belaise taught. Some even reveled in the killing. Some became cold and detached. Meadow was the latter. Sixteen years later, a botched mission and a rescue found her in the far reaches of the North. Once in Narfell, she had waited diligently for years. There was no word from Belaise or his subordinates. No word from … anyone. For all she knew, the Mulhorandi had found them and put them to death. Meadow took solace that early in her stay in Narfell, one of the blessed ones claimed her. But he too was absent. He hadn’t sought her out despite the many opportunities. No, Meadow mused, he had abandoned her too. Would George also abandon her? The thought of it twisted her inside. She shifted uncomfortably on the railing, pushing those thoughts aside. With the exception of Arryn when she was but a child, George was the only person she had ever loved. She liked to think he loved her too, but love was not something of which she had much experience. Footsteps up the stairs. George poked his head out sleepily and then clambered onto the deck. He looked at Meadow, furrowing his brow for a moment, before Meadow put on a smile. She continued to sit on the railing and looked up into his eyes. Her insides twisted again, but differently. For a moment she felt transfixed. “Love is weakness”, Belaise had taught. “It makes you vulnerable” “Fuck Belaise”, Meadow said to herself, and kissed him.
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  Travelling between worlds - Chea's Journal, part second.
  • Attentus

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  Memories, Memories. Dearest Journal, ... i wrote so much, but so little about my childhood & about my first Awakening to Magick. My mother - Neanna - was an actress and my father - Vincent - was a mercinary soldier who travelled both near and far. ... i was born and raised in Cormyr, where i lived with my mother. One evening i felt 'pulled' to the Elven woods of Cormanthor near, where i've found a glade with ancient circle of rune-stone monoliths. Selune was in her Full Moon phase, and everything seemed so intense, so soaked with loving energies of Magick. ... i entered the Circle of Stones, and everything seemed to spin around me. Trees danced, Selune's light shine on me. ... i felt guided by unseen presence, heard ancient song in my head. ... i felt something made me to make strange gestures, speak ancient, arcane verses. ... i felt like a doll, with Selune pulling the strings and making me dance. ... then everything went bright around me, a light spell was cast. ... a light spell, the gift from Selune. ... danced there for a while, then felt tired and fell asleep on warm earth within the Circle of Runestones. ... everything was intense and meaningful, magical and loving, in a way it felt so right ... Woke up in the morning and went back home. There, i could not repeat the spell again. Went to the stone circle again few times but everything was gentle and quiet. Only when next full moon arose, the Circle of Stones felt alive again ... and i could cast the light spell again. Voice in my head told me to seek 'Enlightened Energies'. Later found a Monk from Kara-Tur who taught me how to meditate, how to seek the light within myself. Even later i joined Arcane Academy in Damara, under patronage of Loviatar ... such emotional pain, i ran away without completing the Course. And yet later again - when i was ready - a Rashemi Witch named Katarina appeared in my life to initiate me fully into the Witchcraft. After that, me and my familiar - Nade, a black panther - found each other, and beginning of friendship between us did appear. But these tales are for later, Dear Journal. -- Yours, Chea Allin, a witch & a seeker of Enlightened Energies.
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  Posting of Bandit Leader Head
  • Winterhawk99

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  Lauriella Sithmore
  • Winterhawk99

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  @winterhawk99 I am considering putting "The Rest of the Story" of Laurielle's life on the forum (until her death by aneurysm of the brain) when she reaches her early 400's during the time of the age of discovery in Netheril. Any comments I will take in discord. I will take any comments in discord until 1 September before proceeding or not proceeding. my addy is here: Winterhawk99#9179
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  Syltria's Research on the Indrid Cold case
  • AddictedtoMint

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  Blaze
  • Jazz-Vancouver

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  The SCRIPTURES of St JERRICK
  • Kayleb

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  [[In a mostly vain attempt to raise funds for Remove Disease potions for those stricken by the Plague in Peltarch, Marty has taken up busking in the commons. While waiting for the right time to beseech Sheela Peryroyl for more healing magic, she will tap her tambourine and sing (poorly, but with lots of passion) the following song]] ((The song is sung to the tune of "Go Tell it on the Mountain" like this or this (Peter, Paul and Marty!)*)) Go tell it to the moun-tain Over nature he takes good care-yeah Go tell it to the moun-tain Jerrick Rafe is there. Glacier is adva-a-ncing To freeze our fields so fair But slow-ly now he’s in the mountain We’re sustained by his love and care. Go tell it to the moun-tain Over nature he takes good care-yeah Go tell it to the moun-tain Jerrick Rafeis there. If the sea’s a mighty tempest If the fields yield up no fo-od. Let the mountain hear your pleading Jerick intercedes for our good. Go tell it to the moun-tain Over nature he takes good care-yeah Go tell it to the moun-tain Jerrick Rafe is the–----re. [[adding it here simply because it may contribute to St Jerrick lore]]
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  Goblin
  • Kayleb

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  Diary. I am so glad that I did the find of this diary in the ruins of the Dwarven Hold! Now I do the having of this diary OH so much WRITE into it shall GROBBLE DO! I do the writing of capital letters to do the simulate of volume increase. Grobble is very spiritual in this heart of him. Also the lungs, stomach, and other organs. When Grobble does his mighty surrender to Norwick, Overlord DWIN DOLVAK did the make of Grobble to swear NEVER to do hurt to people in Norwick. Grobble does the swear by MORADIN! who is the god of dwarfs. Grobble has much love for MORADIN and of dwarfs. He also does the make of me to SWEAR not to do murder to HIN. Grobble swears but in his heart does the feel that this was the wrong thing to make Grobble swear. BUT a SWEAR is a SWEAR! - Grobble does not break the swear. Overlord DWIN even does the say that Grobble must NOT cut off the face of the HIN and wear it like a mask to make the TERROR in the hin. So Grobble does not do the cutting off of the face for the wearing of it as a mask. Because a SWEAR is a SWEAR! - Grobble does not break the swear. Now in the pass of times Grobble does the worship of TEMPUS! Oh such PRAYS and WORSHIPS does the Grobble give to the MIGHTY GOD TEMPUS! And he does the give to Grobble POWERS! Even though Grobble is NOTHING but the jam between the toes of the MIGHTY FEETS OF TEMPUS - he does the hear of my prays and sees the doing of my worships. And in the pass of time I find a sword. Oh such a SWORD did Grobble FIND! Curved, sharp, and with the magic runes for the making of the sword to LOVE TO KILL HIN! Serious ... the sword is THIRSTY for the BLOODS OF HINS! It was like Tempus did the give of this sword to Grobble and say "here Grobble. I do the love of you and give to you this gift for the murdering of ALL HINS! You do the break of your swear and oath now - ARISE AND SLAY ALL THE HIN!". ... it is like he does the say of that - with those exact words - but in the form of a metaphor with me doing the find of the sword. So Grobble is very spiritual in this heart and all other organs. He does the love of MORADIN and will keep the OATH SWEARING to him - AND - he does the love of TEMPUS who wants for grobble to FIGHT against the evil of all HIN! ... so it is like Grobble is at the spiritual crossroad. the crossroad being the metaphor for grobble having a choice of four different roads ... but instead of four it is two ... so the metaphor should really be of just a road that goes both to left and right, but if you say "spiritual road" as the metaphor nobody undertand that as a metaphor for CHOICE but only that you are on a spiritual journey ... SO I do the say of crossroad so you read and have the understand of my choice in the brain of you. I have not seen with my eyes the priest of TEMPUS for many times. If I do the see of one I get it to ask TEMPUS what he likes. And of the priest of MORADIN to see if he will do the release of Grobble from the swear or the bind of him to it. We will see. Also, Potatoes are the best thing for me to eat. Oh - such potatoes shall Grobble have! The end.
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  Letter given to the crafting Guild in Norwick addressed to Master Z
  • Winterhawk99

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  Kabul's Journal
  • Vanderkaus

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  DOUBTS I am finally back. Would love to say that this place feels like home, but that would be a lie and there is no reason to lie to myself. I feel like a stranger, in a strange place, just like the first time I arrived at Norwick. As expected, there are no familiar faces around. Everything looks the same, but at the same time all is different. I used to be a scout for the Realm of Norwick. Hells, I still have the key to the militia barracks lost somewhere inside my bags. When I left, we were at war against goblinoids from the south. I am not sure who won, if there was a winner, or even if it is over. I Need to do some catching up it seems. But I feel the Realm lost some ground. Not a mile away from the city’s wall there is a new goblin fortification. A new tribe…same kind of bastards. I’ll visit them soon. They will know there is a hunter back in these woods. Puting them on their toes seems like something to do, while I figure out what else needs to be done. Not the best plan, but it is the best one I have for now. On another note. My travels cost me almost all my supplies. More arrows, potions and scrolls are necessary. Can’t afford to be caught off guard. People seem to gather in Peltarch these days. Maybe I’ll join some adventuring party and see if I can get what I need.
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  Assorted Makoto Things
  • Crazymojo

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  ![My Lucky Bunny] Written in common to the best of her ability So I come to shitty Peltarch because my shift was done in High Hold. Same boring things with the same smelly humans that sometimes I have to bribe with food and booze for them to go to the hot spring and wash. What was I speaking abou... oh, I was writing about going to Peltarch. Using the Gnome Scroll thing, I make my way to Regal Maid which I must admit can be somewhat entertaining at times to try and find Raazi. Slipping them some coin. There was a man there who offer 2000 coins per person to find this special white rabbit. Figuring it would be easy coins since it was just a rabbit, I said why not. My friends Raazi George and Meadow were all there, it would be fun. One thing though, this asshole rub me wrong way and ask me to take off my clothes too. To call his bluff and make him pay for it, I say 5000 coin to which he disagreed, and then offered the 2000 for the job which show my disappointment. He was on my List. It lead us to a crypt. We went go to the appropriate spot, we find a weird lady who was hiding from a centipede. She showed us the hidden passage down to the ruins. I think George left something on the stove or forgot something because he had to run back. Well, these ruins are kinda messed up. It seem there been some fey who was there already for quite awhile given that it was full of greenery. We kept getting attacked too, and even at one point I try to detect magic and this place was filled with illusion magic! We kept going through different holes and different tunnels, always returning to the same passage, and even one time gravity seem to reverse at one point and we got flipped upside down! Furthermore, this shitty fey-cursed place cost me over many times more coins than offered as a reward in potions when the hoof fey attacked. After going through the same tunnel the 4th time... I decide to say screw it. Rather than being lead down the same path, when we get to this one, I tell everyone to climb up the entrance of the flipped over place. We end up in a room with a magic treasure chest that was full of trees. One especially big tree on the side. Upon inspecting it further, the stupid chest was empty! No rabbit, no treasure, things looked disappointing. We then inspect the tree as we investigate the chest, and find out tall fey lady was inside, and SHE was looking for bunny as well. She wanted to eat it though. Not sure how many years she spend down there but she call the rabbit Lalupirine or something dumb like that, but couldn't figure it out or the chest. Anyway, Meadow had suggested maybe we should put the gold we were offered to find it in the chest to see if something happen like tribute to a shrine.... me being cheap, I threw in 1 coin just to test it. Then all of a sudden... BUNNY! A magic bunny came out! A beautiful white fluffy bunny that remind me of Ussi so much. The fey seemed to really want to eat this thing and while that thought not make me too happy, I figured the amounts of effort fey put into this, maybe we should offer it instead. I was apprehensive though. See, I like rabbits. My parents had me raise a pair named Ussi and Un, saying they were my pets. Perhaps other than my attendants who spent more time than I did in the palace than my parents did, these 2 I loved very much. To my pain, being only 6 at the time, they forced me to butcher them after a year, telling me that such things are meaningless and the only important thing in life is maintaining family honor. I was told if I would cry, I'd be beaten for it, and had to end their lives without tears. Anyway... since I felt 2000 coins was too paltry to return it to the man, I choose, though with difficulty to give it to the fey and maybe try the soup it make. As much as I love bunny one of the conditions I made was if we give it to the fey perhaps so we won't get lost forever in this place or die, showing concern for Raazi and Meadow. Then, that crazy lady that found the entrance, and offered 3 times what the man offered, saying this rabbit belonged to some white witch. At this point I was stressed out. Perhaps it may be an awful decision but I choose to 'owe the fey a favor', and while not a contract, they got magic that could maybe make it into a contract I found out later... we'll see. But she decided to let us free. Then I tell crazy lady I want to meet the white witch and she said she couldn't, and her reward pended on her bringing back the rabbit, offering us 6000 each. In my frustration, and because at this point I didn't want to deal with this shit anymore, I keep it. I just keep the rabbit, I will pay Meadow and Raazi 8000 each, and everyone else can screw themselves. This is my goddamn rabbit. So now, I will keep this rabbit until I meet this white witch, and if she's worthy and the rabbit responds to her favorably, I'll ask for whatever reward was promised. If not, then Lucky will be mine forever! And anyone who tries to take him from me will suffer horribly.