In the realm of the known, where men and monsters clash and a multitude of races struggle for their place in the sun, the human soul endures as a rare and enigmatic jewel. A singular force that, amidst the cacophony of life and strife, continues to defy the boundaries of reason and convention, seeking solace and strength in the tenderest of origins.

For it is said that the eternal disposition of the human psyche, that elusive force that governs the heart and mind, is born of a singular truth - that we, above all other creatures, linger longest in the embrace of our maternal guardian. In our infancy, we are fragile, unprepared to navigate the treacherous labyrinth that is existence. This vulnerability forms the bedrock of the human spirit.

- The Human Question by Gideon de Salavia 378 AC.

There was a chittering, and it was not from the dark creatures of the void, those beings that haunted me in my sleep. There were intruders in my sanctuary, my place of rest. Shouting in surprise, I reached for the dagger at my waist and prepared to do battle with the intruders.

Eyes now adjusting to the general gloom, I still could not see my enemies, save for small movements at the corner of my eyes. Damnations, I need to see, I thought to myself. Reaching for the bag at my waist, I grabbed a chunk of glowing Zajasite from its depths. Holding it in one hand in front of me, the stone immediately illuminated the interior of the wagon with its soft azure light.

Furry fluffballs were running amok in my wagon! Kidu and Elwin had already found their feet, and had begun stamping on what I could see were cute rodents. Yet, despite the pair’s wild struggles against these invaders, the animals evaded them, for the most part, and were getting everywhere, as more of their number came in.

“Stop!” I cried, and the pair looked at me, “No need to panic over such mighty foes.” I was disgusted with my earlier reaction. The great Gilgamesh reacting like a maiden before her first blood was truly an embarrassment.

These foul creatures would pay for their temerity.

I reached into my pack for a piece of jerky, before kneeling down and offering it to one of the balls of fluff. The animal knew no fear and, with great gall, sniffed it once before trying to take off with it. For its hubris, it would be punished as my other hand shot out and grasped it around its neck.

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It squealed in surprise, and the other creatures echoed its cry of desperation. I brought it up closer to my eye, inspecting the absolutely adorable animal, and used a spell that served me well.

Whispermews - (Rodent lvl.1)

Health: 6/6

Stamina: 12/12

Mana: 1/1

My Identify spell revealed to me that it was a weak little thing, barely worth killing. The tiny rascal beast had truly adorable beady eyes and soft fur. It looked like a cross between a ground squirrel and a lemming.

Looking at my companions, I asked them in an irritated voice, “What in heavens is a Whispermews?”

“Ah, these things. I thought they were rats. Hate those things. These cute little ones are Whispermews, they live under the grass here. Harmless. The rain probably flushed them all out of their burrows and they are here looking for shelter on the high ground. They are worth quite a bit; some of the noble lady folk like their fur for the insides of their clothes. Smooth, it is,” explained Elwin.

Suddenly, Kidu gave out a roar and smashed his hand against the side of the wagon, causing our temporary home to shake. “Harmless, you say, Elwin of Tucker. This one bit me!” growled the wildman, pointing at a crushed thing that once was a Whispermews.

Just as I was considering letting the cute creature in my hand go, Kidu’s shout caused it to relieve itself and I could feel liquid running down between the seams of my gauntlet.

I ended its life without a second thought, crushing it in my armored gauntlet and I unleashed a jubilant Entropic Aura to help deal with its cousins. If they were not worth the experience, at the very least they might be worth a few coins.

The other Whispermews were suicidally bold, and the death of two of their number whipped up the remainder of the animals into an ineffectual frenzy. They ignored the dark aura of my spell and threw themselves at us. Stab, stab went the Rogue’s knives as they thunked against wood after piercing through furred flesh, and his blades punched out a rhythm of a crazed metronome. Kidu needed no such weapons, and his ham-size hands made bloody work of the adorable rodents.