My name is Harald Runestorm. 

In real life, I'm help children with their homework and volunteer in a library project for homeless refugees, but in the World of the Greenwood, I kill people for fun. Sometimes I torture them too, and I generally rob them, but some days I just stay in my tower and craft things. That's just my life choice; it doesn't make me a bad person.

I’m going to tell you a story about how I learned a valuable life lesson. This is how it started.

The Greenwood is a virtual reality massively multi-player role playing game. In the game, by profession I'm a Runesmith. My class skills are Runes, Potions, Enchanting, Fencing and Smithing.

I live in a tower that I built myself in a remote part of the Greenwood. The lonely tower sticks out of the forest of Birnam Wood like a blunt pencil. I’m not ignorant about the symbolism. I used to live in the city of Horrabia, but I got annoyed at them telling me what to do all the time. The alignment of most people in Horrabia is Lawful Evil, but I find I’m more chaotic than that, and I need my own space to be wicked. I think each person is evil in his or her own unique way. I put up with Horrabia for several years, but in the end, after all their nag-nag-nag, I decided to leave the city and set up on my own. That's how I came to build my tower.

Birnam Wood lies at the foot of the Emerald Mountains. There’s a brick road that I built myself with lovely yellow stone that links my tower to the main Icknield Way. The Icknield Way runs-east west, joining the cities of Vinab and Salonika. The Emerald Mountains, just to the south of Birnam Wood, are a good source of mineral deposits from my runes and weapons.  I don't do it myself of course; I have my gnome slaves dig it all out for me. When I say they are slaves that is not completely correct because I pay them in beer. The more they work, the more beer they drink.  It's a game mechanism designed to keep me out of pocket. I have a contract with a brewer from Salonika called Old Tom who delivers the beer every week. Before he was a brewer, he was an Assassin, but now he just brews the cheapest, nastiest ale in the Greenwood. He calls it Craft Ale, but it taste like pig piss, and I should know what pig piss tastes like, but that's a story for another time. Luckily it's only for gnomes. Fucking half pint morons.  

I should also mention that I am also enormously wealthy. And the reason for that is my runes. I don't like to boast, but I am the best Runesmith in the Greenwood. Because I’ve developed my skills and I’m Level 20 developed right up to the 100% mark in all of them, that expertise goes into my runes, so the damage bonus for my offensive runes is fingerlickin’ good and the difficulty check for enchantment runes is ass crackin’ high. That means they are difficult to save against. My wonderfulness gets me lots of customers. They may not like me, some pretty much hate me, but they still come knocking on my shop door. I am also a narcissist. I made a mirror once that I could ask who was the fairest in the land and if it didn’t say it was me; I smashed it and made another. Luckily for the mirror, I am phenomenally good looking. In the Greenwood anyway. What I look like in my bedroom is my business.

This particularly day, I was up in my Forge which is on the top level of my tower and open to the sky. People often compliment me on the colour show that they get as they walk by along the Icknield Way when I am forging high up in the tower. 

The day this story begins, it was pleasant day in spring and I could hear the birds singing in the trees from the woods all around as I slammed my hammer onto the anvil. The impact of the hammer and the showers of multi-colored sparks scared them away. Good: I hate birds. And rabbits.

The silver bell that I’ve rigged up in the forge gave a little tinkle to show that I had a customer. I placed my hammer neatly away, took off my leather apron, and washed my hands in the ceramic bowl I keep nearby for that purpose. Then I descended to meet whoever it was had come to see me.

You enter the salesroom directly from the door to the woods outside. The room is well lit and I have counters where I set out mahogany boxes on blue velvet to display my runes. I love the way the runes twinkle in the permanent Light spell. They rune boxes are of course runed with shock runes to stop the sly fingers of those who do not want to, or cannot afford to pay for my goods.

I came down the stairs, looked to see who it was and when I saw who it was, I said, "What do you want?"

Jimmy the Zit stood there looking sheepish. He was a Halfling dressed completely in black, with a black facemask, black boots, black gloves, and black cloak.  He must think black is the new black. Ass-hat.

I twisted my face. "You can remove that face mask, Jimmy. Or you won't be getting served."

He dragged his facemask to reveal the scowl on his face. "You know who I am anyway,” he said. “You said my name.”

“Store policy Jimmy.” I pointed to a sign on the wall where it clearly said: Customers in full stealth or wearing face masks will not be served.

Jimmy was eyeing my runes.

I watched him suspiciously. “Anyway, have you got any money?”

Jimmy didn't like paying for anything. Being a member of the thieves Guild, he usually stole what he wanted, but he knew better than to try to cross me.

Jimmy hummed and hawed. “Not exactly,” he said. “Not that I can spare.”

"So why don't you piss off then?"

Jimmy cocked his head in what he probably thought was a winning attitude and said, “I wondered if I could trade some information for a rune?”

We had done this deal before. Jimmy heard all sorts of things going on in the Greenwood that had in the past been of interest to me. I wasn't going to rule this trade out, but I wasn’t going to make it easy for him. I frowned. “What rune do you want?”

He pointed at the box with its collection of silver runes. “What’s that one do? The squiggly one?”

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

“That one adds acid damage to a weapon.”

“What about that one next to it?”

“That one adds fire damage to a weapon.”

Jimmy's gaze shifted from box to box like a greedy kid on Christmas Morning. He was slavering at the thought of getting a rune for nothing. But I am Harald Runestorm and I always get the best side of the deal.

“What’s that one do – the one like two triangles?”

“What? This one?” I pointed. It didn’t look like two triangles I sighed. “Jimmy, that one blinds you. And before you ask that one dazzles you. And this one here –”

“The one like a snake?”

“It's not really like a snake at all,” I said. “But, yes that one chokes you.”

Jimmy sighed and held his chin. "I like the sound of them all.”

“I bet you do.” I leaned back against the wall. “So what’s this information you've got me?”

His face brightened. “Oh,” he said, “you are really going to love this.”

“Try me.”

“No, this is gonna be the best information you've had in months. It's a sure-fire tip.”

He was getting on my tits. If he didn't either tell me what he'd got, or produce money to buy a rune, I was going to kill him. He could see the annoyance in my face.

He stepped back. Fear is what I want to project in this world: fear. Some people want to be loved, but I don't care about love. I would rather have a box of shit than love. But fear - give me the gift of inspiring fear any day. I prize it more than gold and silver or a kiss from a naked elf girl. 

Jimmy cleared his throat. His right eye was twitching. "Well…"

"Get on with it!" I snarled.

Jimmy's twitch got worse. He shifted from foot to foot like a cross between a frog and a ballerina. He cleared his throat again. "Okay, you know the Druid hangout at Avalon?"

I knew Avalon. It was to the west of Ermine Street just before you come to the Ford of Dreams. I nodded.

He continued, "Well, there's going to be war between Vinab and Horrabia. Apparently the Rangers Guild raided the Royal Palace of Horrabia and stole some stuff from there."

"I heard that" I said. "But I'm still not liking what I'm hearing, so you better cough up some top rate intelligence real quick.” 

I had a knife engraved with choice runes hanging at my belt. I stroked the hilt now, just so he would understand I meant what I said.

He kept running his hand through his hair, coughing nervously but his eyes darted to the beautiful trays of runes. He was a prisoner of his rune-lust. 

"So," he continued. "It seems that during this raid, the Rangers guild had a lot of support from the city of Vinab. And Horrabia will not tolerate that. They’ve been humiliated and they want payback."

"So what is this got to do with the Druids?"

His eye twitched. "Well, the Rangers Guild just founded village by the Ford of Dreams. A place called Pennred. They set it up at the edge of the Old Forest just where it gives way to the Forest of Nightmares."

I stroked my chin. "That's on the edge of Horrabian territory. Very provocative."

“The rangers are gifttrying to build this settlement and fortify it as a way of staving off an attack from Horrabia. Horrabia is just further up Ermine Street.”

“I know my geography”, I snapped.”But you still haven't told me about the Druids. Time’s running out for you, Jimmy." I took the knife from its sheath and laid it on the counter nearby so he could see it glitter in the Light spell. Its runes pulsed out a deadly warning to little Jimmy the Zit.

He trembled alarmingly. His nervous cough was getting the better of him too. He stuttered. “Of course the Druids and the Rangers are big buddies, but the Druids Guild are pacifists. And that means they don't fight.”

I shook my head. “Are you trying to annoy me? I know what pacifist means.”

He stammered. “But the Druids still hate the Horrabians. So they are supplying the Rangers, and there’s a supply train going out from Avalon to the new Ranger village of Pennred. It’ll be travelling along Ermine Street. And I know where and when.”

“So where and when?”

Jimmy the Zit extended his hands imploringly. 

"Come on, man," he said. "I've got to keep some advantage. I was going to hit the thing myself but there'll be muscle going along with them. I heard there'll be NPC guards who will fight. And I thought I needed support." He gave a smile as weak as the sun on a January morning. He maybe hoped the smile would warm my icy heart. It didn't. But I could see some financial advantage in this for me. "So you're thinking you me I can hit the supply train and steal the stuff?"

He nodded.

“That's about the size of it.” He beamed at me. “Are you in?”

“Maybe.” I tugged at my beard. This could be a good thing. I didn't think a few Druids and their NPCs would pose much of a threat. "So what's gonna be in this train?" I asked.

“Ore and timber, for sure. But I heard they’re sending them some magic items as well.”

“How do you know all this?”

Jimmy the Zit tapped his nose. "I got a good source. And also I sneak around a lot."

I liked the idea of magic items. It was like a lucky bag. You just don't know what you're going to get. And that random reward thing pleased me. Also, I’d get to kill people, which I always enjoy.

“Okay, count me in. Let me know when it's going to be.”

“Sure, sure.” he nodded. “Of course I will. I think it might be tomorrow but I’ll let you know the exact time. Can I find you here?”

“Oh yes. I need to make myself a new sword, so I’ll be here.” I’d been wanting to forge a better sword for a long time. And this little trip out would give me the impetus to create a new rune sword especially if I was going to cut off a few Druid heads. I hate those hippies more than I hate most people.

As I stood there thinking it over, I saw movement out of the corner of my eye. Jimmy was surreptitiously trying to remove a shock rune from one of the rune boxes. He was using his thief's skills and thought I couldn't see what he was doing. But I see everything. The shock runes are the ones I put on gear to protect it. If a player touches a shock rune, they get health damage and soon drop it. But runesmiths and thieves have skills to remove the runes without getting shocked. Jimmy was very foolish to steal from me. But he’s a thief. I guess he can’t help himself.

I leapt over the counter and shoved Jimmy away from the rune box. His sly fingers had already rolled my shock rune into a ball of silver.

He blinked rapidly in alarm and backed out of the door.

“Oh no you don't”, I said, yanking him back by the sleeve. “Give me back my silver.”

With a shaking hand, he held out the silver ball. He looked at his feet and said, “Sorry, Harald. It’s my thieving nature. It got the better of me.”

I reached over to the counter and picked up my dagger. The runes on it scintillated in anticipation. They’ve got a kind of intelligence, the old runes do.

Jimmy’s eyes widened. "What are you going to do with that?" He stammered.

I smiled wickedly. "You said you wanted to give me a hand with this raid."

He nodded and coughed. Before he realized what I was doing, I lunged forward and sliced off his hand at the wrist. That would teach a little bastard to steal from me.

Jimmy yowled in pain. I held up his dismembered hand in front of him and waggled it. “Don't steal from me Jimmy. Not from Harald Runestorm. Remember my reputation.”

Jimmy backed out of the door. The silver bell tinkled as he left.

I smiled. "Don't forget to tell me about this Druid cargo train. Or I’ll come looking for you, and you won’t like that.”

Before he left, I reached into the rune box and got him out an acid rune. “Here.” I held it out to him.

Jimmy went to extend his right hand then remembered it wasn't there. 

I grinned. “It’ll grow back.”

He took the acid rune greedily with his left hand.

“Yes, I’ll let you know when, of course.” He grinned like a half-wit. As he left my store, he turned and said shyly, “Are we still friends?”

I said coldly, “We were never friends Jimmy." Then I waved. "See you tomorrow. I’ve got a sword to forge.”