Of Nightmares and Celebrations

A teenager in a threadbare gray nightgown walked through the woods. Her eyes are closed, and her footsteps are unsteady across the soft, now crunched beneath her bare feet. The painful blistering cold against her soles isn't enough to wake her. The village behind her is serene; soft plumes of black smoke waft from the chimneys of the log cabins. Lom-Itoti was a small village, practically a hamlet nestled along one of the many rivers of the Empire of Fire and Water. Two scents waged war in the brisk night sky. Thick and rich pine and warm sea breeze crashed into each other, each struggling for dominance. The gentle breeze of the salt-soaked sea wind won the exchange, gently pushed against the girl. The wind ruffled her long brown hair as it guided her further into the safety of the woods.

The snap of twigs underfoot finally awoke Naya from her trance. Her feet stung, and her heart raced as she cast wild glances around the thicket of oak trees she stood in. She was alone, thankfully. She had fallen asleep in her bed. That was a fact, yet a casual glance at the ground revealed only a single set of tracks in the snow. Naya pulled her arms tight to her chest and trudged back the way she had come against the sea breeze. A feeling of dread crept over her, to her own surprise. Lom-Itoti was a safe village; it was the woods so full of monsters and animals one needed to be wary of. A black cat pounced onto the path before the young girl and hissed at her. Naya gave it space and stumbled around it. She needed to get home to the fire before frostbite could settle in. It continued to growl, its ears pinned back as she put distance between herself and the angry cat.

As she neared the edge of the woods, the lack of torchlight or the warm glow of hearth fires caught her attention. Only the moon's silver glow, thankfully large in the sky, gave her any light to move by. She slowed and bent her knees like her father had taught her. When hunting, you moved softly; you bent with the land beneath your feet. As she neared, she caught sight of something strange in the corner of her vision. A massive gnarled tree root slithered between two log cabins. She blinked and rubbed her eyes, unsure if she had imagined it. She traced her way slowly through the dirt streets. The moon hanging so high overhead indicated it was late, perhaps why she didn't see any firelight. Her house was no exception; there were no lights on inside, not even the soft glow of the fireplace. She struggled to open the hefty wooden door. She slipped inside and found only the barest relief from the cold. The fire had burned down, and only angry red veins coursed through the charred black wood. Nothing seemed amiss or out of place. The bench with a spool of harvest orange yarn and two wooden crocheting needles resting on it was right where they were left. The only thing out of place was a figure who stood eerily still.

At the edge of the room stood a man she only recognized by the twin scimitars held aloft in his hands. "Dad?" She asked as she moved closer in the dark towards him: nothing, no motion, and no sound. "Dad?!" she repeated, louder as she crossed the few feet between them. She reached out for him, and when her hands touched his outstretched arms, she bristled up against soft leaves where skin should have been. In the moonlight glinting off his swords, she saw that he was made entirely of bark, vines, and leaves. She recoiled and ran for the other rooms to check on her mother.

A pain in Naya's gut brought her jolting up. A campfire crackled a few feet away from her. A red fox sat behind her head, his orange-red eyes glued to her. The heavy head of a red wolf rested upon her stomach. Her leather armor and swords lay just a few feet to her side. The wolf huffed, his nostrils flared wide as they sent a puff of steam into the cold night's air. Naya absent-mindedly stroked his head as she glanced toward the fire.

"Rem says you had bad dreams," Alvec said groggily as he pulled himself up to sit beside the fire.

"I was dreaming about my village," she confirmed, letting the silence fill the air between them. In the flickering camp light, her traveling companion looked almost sinister; he was a tiefling a few years older than herself. Perhaps eighteen or twenty. Slender, of average height, with black curly hair and ram's horns curling out of his head. His skin was a soft bronze, almost mistakable for a well-tanned individual. His clothing was simple, clean, and a colorful blue. He was the first tiefling she'd met. They were humans tainted with the blood of devils. Alvec, thankfully, looked almost human outside of the horns and a thin, flexible tail. Some had strange eyes, ears, and other hellish traits, making them look more like beasts or monsters than humans.

"We'll charter a riverboat after the birthday party," he said as he fluffed the air around where his head had been resting. The air seemed to shimmer and respond to his touch.

"We should be heading straight there. Who even is Cellocht? And why is he more important than getting to Lom-Itoti?"

Alvec chuckled. "I keep forgetting how small Lom-Itoti must be." He grimaced as he glanced over at their final two companions. Another boy about his age lay in a sleeping bag. Brown hair, sharp angular features, and a thin build. Beside him, with incandescent red eyes, was a rabbit made of clockwork. Its head swiveled to and fro with rhythmic ease. "No lectures tonight. I don't want to wake Mavec. Suffice it to say that Cellocht is Emperor Ageneon's favorite bard. Not to mention, it's his 111th birthday."

"By the spirits, what's so special about 111?" She asked, gently pushing Echo off her as she sat up.

"In halfling culture, on the 111th birthday, the host is expected to give gifts. I've..."

"External Gyroscopes. Why does it have external gyroscopes?!" Mavec groaned from his sleeping bag before he rolled over and placed his back to the fire.

"Right, looks like you weren't the only one having nightmares. Let's get back to bed; we've still got a lot of ground to cover tomorrow."

"Wait, Alvec, can you toss some bones into the fire?" He raised an eyebrow at the question and rummaged through his backpack.

"Will powdered bone work?" He asked.

"I guess?" She said as she laid back down and let out a sigh. She watched Alvec take a pinch out of a small vial of gray material and sprinkle it into the campfire.

"I don't get it, but if it makes you feel more safe than your wolf and our animal companions, then it's a small price to pay. Night, Naya," he said as he laid back down and let sleep overtake him again.

Cellochts party: Illaria

"Now, you be remembering not to take your musket out unless someone be asking to see it, alright, Bait?" Illaria reminded her fellow Blue Banner army companion. The pair were on shore leave from the Blue Banner's Coffin Flotilla. Their commanding officers were ecstatic to have such memorable representation headed to the Emperor's favorite bard's 111th birthday party. Away from the Coffin Flotilla Bait stood out even worse than she did. The green-skinned goblin, barely half her height, looked up at her.

If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

"Bait goes boom when Bait wants to boom." She got a few feet ahead of him to maintain her position upwind of her friend. He wore a tattered shirt and pants, and his green skin and clothes were caked in mud and grime. The only clean thing on him was a near-pristine musket. He stunk, and she hated that about him. Convincing him to bathe would require a literal plate of fine cheese. Even then, she wasn't sure he'd bite. Illaria wasn't sure if all goblins prided themselves on their stink or if it was just a Bait thing. She hoped not to find out.

Circumstances had brought the two of them together in more ways than one.

Both were searching for lost family. Illaria knew who had taken her parents from her: Cutthroat Crowley, the scourge of the seas. She pushed the thought out of her mind. Today was a day of celebrations. It would do no good to dwell on the past right now.

"We're headed to a party, Bait; if you be wanting to enjoy the food, you'll be needing to mind your manners, no using your gun unless there be an emergency. You're an independent contractor with the Blue Banners. At least try to act the part."

"Bait is independent compactor; Bait knows when to boom." Illaria let out a sigh and continued to take the lead. Before long, Cellocht's manor came into view. Two well-armed guards dressed in the finest brown leather chest pieces and wearing bright polished steel helmets monitor the perimeter wall. Pikes rested against the wall behind them, and each carried a sword. The two guards stood behind a table just off the roadway; both young men were slack-jawed and stared at Illaria. A reaction she was unfortunately used to, especially with first introductions. Their faces quickly changed to disbelief as they caught sight of Bait.

"Hello, we'll need to see your invitations, please," the guard on the right said as he stepped forward and stood as tall as he could, chest puffed out over much. Illaria produced the slightly bent letter from her pack. Bait removed a crumpled and grime-stained letter.

"This can't be real, right?" The second guard asked as he flipped the invitation over a few times.

"It's real, says right here," the first guard said before he pointed to a line on the scroll on the table. "A stunning lady, Aasimar, and a goblin with a gun. I'm looking right at a stunning lady and a goblin with a gun."

"Yeah, but just... a goblin? With a gun? Don't you find that strange?" The second one asked.

"We've had Gold Banner, we've had Red Banner, now we've got some Blue Banners, and let's not forget that trio that came in with a fox, a wolf, and a clockwork rabbit. You want to fixate on the goblin being weird?" The first one asked. "You're both free to enter. Welcome to Cellocht's birthday celebration. We've got tons of things to do for entertainment. Everything you'd expect from a legendary bard. Just be sure to watch yourself if you go near the spell tent. I'm a little worried about the drinking and the spell casting."

"K bye," Bait muttered before he walked off into the grounds.

"It's a pleasure to be here; if you be seeing Master Cellocht before I do, please pass along my well wishes," Illaria said as she hurried after Bait.

"Hey, wait... damn it, she's already gone. I was going to ask her to dance later." She heard the comment but continued forward anyway. She was used to this sort of attention outside of the Coffin flotilla, but it didn't mean she was comfortable with it.

Once inside the outer gate, Illaria swept her head from side to side, taking in all of the attractions Cellocht had planned for them. A fine wooden stage currently had many people singing and dancing. A tent further back, with a fenced-off area running down from under it, had various figures mingled and slung spells down the enclosed track at targets. A young man with a mechanical rabbit stood further back from it and watched with a look of disdain, a lit cigarette in his mouth. On the perimeter, there were several fenced-off sections of lawn where various figures sparred with wooden swords. A muscular orc woman with jade skin dominated the competition... for now, Illaria mused to herself. She caught the flash of the Red Banners sigil on the woman's clothing. A sly smirk crossed her face; she'd return here soon to test her mettle. It wouldn't rightly do to let the Red Banner have the run of the place. It would wound her pride as a Blue Banner, with the coffin flotilla no less. But first, to sing, Sholsatta be damned, there wasn't a ship to sink in sight. She'd let her voice ring loud for all the times she'd had to keep her songs low so the spirit of shipwrecks would stay away.

Illaria strode to the stage and quickly made her way up once the last group of tieflings had cleared it. She belted out a boisterous and jolly sea shanty. The crowd around the stage struggled to dance to it but were quickly transfixed by it. A quick rhythmic clap began somewhere in the back and worked to the front, further accentuating her song. When Illaria was done, she swept her red hair away from her face and descended into the crowd met with cheers and applause. It was exhilarating; perhaps she'd have been a bard like Celocht in another life.

Illaria didn't linger long in the warm, receptive audience. She had to get back to those fighting pits after all. Her arrival saw the pit in use. A young girl shorter than herself faced off against the Red Banner army member. She wielded two short wooden swords against the wooden sword and shield of the orc. It was clear that the young woman was self-taught. Her stance was sloppy, almost feral, but it wasn't without its bite. The orc woman towered well over her and struck down hard and fast. The girl rolled to the side of the strike; she sliced low toward the orc's leg before she spun to strike her once more as she danced a circle around her. The first strike clipped the orcs leg, and the second thudded against the Red Banner Armies shield. The orc's wooden sword plunged towards the girl's heart. This time, the blade was batted away with one sword while the other returned an attack, barely clipped past the Red Banner's shield. It was only seconds before the girl's onslaught scored her third point on the Red Banner Army's representative.

"Well met!" The orc roared as she placed her wooden weapons down. "I'm Pacta, here on behalf of the Red Banner army, the best banner to join if you're looking for some action. What's your name?"

"Naya." the girl said, waved, and smiled wide at Pacta. The young human girl was mousy but fierce. The woman who had called herself Pacta had broad, solid features and a very muscular frame honed through intense training.

"Well now, that's not entirely true now, is it? Blue Banner's got just as much action if that's what you're after," Illaria cut in. The orc puffed her chest out with false bravado.

"Oh, how about we settle it with a duel? Friendly, of course; the first one to three points wins."

"I can be your judge," Naya interjected.

"Sounds like a right good time to me," Illaria replied as she picked up the closest replica to her real weapon she could find. It was a basic shortsword but had a smidge more curve than the rest. It reminded her of her well-used and well-worn wakizashi. Illaria found herself without the height disadvantage that the girl Naya had. She was north of six feet tall, meaning that she and Pacta were nearly the same height. The two women bowed to one another, and the fight began. A quick thrust of the sword followed by a bash with the shield launched at Illaria. She deftly slapped the sword away and sidestepped the shield. A quick twist of her wrist and the first point was scored. One for the Blue Banner. The following exchange didn't go as well. The wooden shield clipped Illaria even as she slapped the sword away; she frowned. One for the red. Once more, they exchanged blows; this time, Pacata overextended on a thrust and was swiftly punished with two strikes.

"Alright, alright, Blue Banner wins this round. Jeez, who exactly are you with?" Pacta asked as she placed her weapons down.

"Hey, out of the ring; I'm up next!" Naya said as she vaulted over the wooden fence and grabbed two shortswords again.

"Alright, I've got another one in me," Illaria said as she took a practiced stance against her. The fight was short. While there were no shortages of expert parries, Naya was relentlessly launching attack after attack. She pressed the advantage of her speed, and while her defenses were sloppy, it proved too much for Illaria to parry. Three points for the stranger and 2 for the Blue Banner. "You're not half bad, ya know; the Blue Banner would love to have you."

"I saw her first blue; Red Banner would love to have her too," Pacta responded, a big toothy grin spread across her face.

"Sorry, I won't be joining either of the banners. I've got my own issues to sort out right now. I've already got two wizards coming along to help. Enjoy the rest of the party!" She said before she stepped away from the two of them. Rows of chairs were being placed out in front of the stage. A halfling oversaw the project from the podium facing the chairs. Illaria took the cue to head over and grab a good seat for whatever presentation they would receive.