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First scene of this act — storytelling tips Last scene of this act — storytelling tips Storytelling tips
“So you’re telling me this guy, Quinn, just hired a bunch of people to take back his castle without even really knowing who they were?”
Odo stopped wiping the bar and looked at Big Morgan. “And I suppose you know a band of capable fighters that you trust with your life?”
Big Morgan pondered this for a moment, shrugged his shoulders, and took a swig from his mug.
“Anyway, as I was saying, they set off about a week later…”
The coast road was simultaneously beautiful and terrifying. Pristine stretches of cobblestone overlooking the picturesque Sinnar Ocean gave way to winding two-tracks through darkened woodland. Though there was no immediate threat to the little caravan, danger felt always around the corner.
Quinn drove a single cart, loaded down with supplies and materials that would ostensibly be used to begin the repairs on the castle. Three pack miles followed behind with other gear, rations, camping supplies, and weaponry. The travel arrangements didn’t seem to include any easy transport for the company, but the cart had room for one other to sit at a time, providing some much needed rest from the hours of trudging along the road.
As the group traveled south, more and more sounds of the wilderness seemed to stand out to them. The wind blew leaves and rustled branches. Creaking wood covered any sounds that might raise suspicion.
Urman, normally solemn and introspective, spoke up. “You know what they say about the Forest of Hope.” He gestured to the west and the wooded area in the near distance. “Home of the Fae. Strange creatures. As liable to trick you and steal your very life as they are to be some miracle cure to an ailment. But they call it the Forest of Hope because people continue to flock there.” He shook his head. “How many more time do I need to hear the story of a woman trading away her first born child for some temporal treasure.”
“That got dark quick,” Jessica said. “Urman, you sure know how to make people feel at ease.”
A twig snapped in the woods, a dark shape disappearing into the gloom.
“We all must learn the hard lessons of life,” Urman said. “That is why we are here to create things, to build. Torag is not interested in Fairy tricks, but in what we can build with our own hands. He expects us to work out our own salvation.”
Etienne smirked. “Story of my life.”
“There’s a difference between building something meaningful and stealing whatever you fancy,” Jessica said. She drew he sword and swung it a few times, testing its weight. “I prefer the blade myself. Solved plenty of my problems.”
A huge fallen tree lay to the side of the road ahead, roots torn from the ground by some hurricane force. The road seemed to go straight through it, but a rough two-track was cut into the earth. It seemed that the tree had been either two big to move, or everyone on the road was in too much of a hurry to chop into it, so the only logical answer was to go around.
“Smashing solves plenty of problems too,” Danyelle said, laughing louder than was appropriate. “Just as much as building. I haven’t run into a problem I couldn’t punch yet. I don’t think they exist. Like this tree!”
Danyelle began to walk ahead of the group toward the fallen tree. “Give me a little time and I’ll chop right through!”
Arack trudged along, wondering how an adventure could be so utterly boring. Who know that adventures consisted of mostly endless walking.
He watched his feet take one step after another. He counted his steps, but that soon got completely depressing. He tried estimating travel time to the next geographic feature. He counted blue things. Nothing got his mind off of the utter tedium of this trip.
None of the others except for Jessica seemed to want to talk to him much. It wasn’t that they were unfriendly exactly. It just seemed that they had deemed him young, inexperienced and basically not worth their time. At least it seemed that way to him.
Jessica did walk beside him, though she spent more of her time talking weapons and sparring with the other warriors. He cherished the time she spent along side him. She was a delightful conversationalist, and though he felt that his part of the conversation was lacking, she didn’t seem to mind at all.
Their slow approach to the tree came while he was travelling on his own, desperately trying to conjure a light, because he hated the dark nights with the wilderness pressing in all around him. If he could only make a reliable light, he felt that this trip would be much more bearable. Not for the first time during this walk he questioned his intelligence in signing up for it, though he’d never let anyone else know his doubts.
While trying to coax the tiny pinprick of light he’d managed to create into a greater light, the light suddenly flew from his hand and danced across the path in front of them like a willow the wisp. He held his breath, his failure from the beginning of the trip flashing before his eyes. But no one seemed to notice the light, nor did it do anything catastrophic to anyone.
The light settled on a log that lay in the road ahead of them, outlining the log in a brilliant red light that he could somehow feel indicated danger. Nobody else seemed to notice the brilliant red light however.
He glanced over at the group and saw Danyelle moving towards the log with purpose.
For a split second he hesitated. Would they even believe him? Then he decided it didn’t matter. He needed to contribute to the good of the group. If they didn’t believe him, the consequences were on them, not him.
“Uh…Danyelle? I don’t think you should go over there. I think there’s something wrong. He grimaced, for the line sounded lame, even to him.
She slowed, but didn’t stop, looking back over her shoulder at him. “What’s that you say?”
A little more firmly he said, “You should be careful. There’s something wrong with that log.”
With much more force than anyone expected, Danyelle was practically shoved aside as Pearly reared up near the log. Danyelle growled, but gave Pearly a generous pass- for all anyone knew, she was just a loon.
“Something wrong indeed! Just look, look, look at it!! It’s glowing!!” She snorted as she laughed, delightedly scribbling away in her notes. “Nobody touch it though!! I will touch it, for the purposes of science!!”
At first Pearly merely poked at the log with a twig, and waved her hand over it to assess the heat coming off of it. At last, she itched her chin- more so, where her chin would be under that mask of hers- and then took a leap, landing right on top of it.
“…huh. Nothing. Perhaps it’s properties are not physical? Strange indee-“ as she stomped on the log for good measure, a burst of flame shot from the wood, igniting the hem of her dress rather quickly.
She shrieked, and jumped off, landing back in Danyelle’s arms. They both looked at it, clearly a little shocked. Pearly’s dress now had a solid strip of singed cloth along the bottom, a few wisps of smoke drifting off of her. Without missing another beat, Pearly’s beak irked toward Arack.
“Astute observation, Mr. Braymar. We should definitely, absolutely be careful with this strange log.”
Danyelle rolled her eyes, dropping Pearly onto the ground before continuing to focus on how to get the obstacle out of the road, a bit more reluctant to chop away at it now. She picked herself up, practically unphased, and continued taking notes as she walked alongside Arack.
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