Yeoldebard
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Arlo scrubbed at a metal pan. Sweat dripped from his brow, and he had to keep drying his fur off. The scratch of the steel brush grated on his ears. The smell of half-eaten food infested his nose. Fuck this. Glancing around to make sure no one was coming, Arlo snapped his fingers. A miniscule strand of magic brushed over the pan, lifting most of the food stains and making them vanish. Close enough. Still, Arlo sighed as he took up his brush again. Memories slipped through his mind. Once
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Thrust into a new reality, Arlo Green is once again tasked with recovering an artefact of immense power for his lich overlord. With a new cast of friends and enemies, and the heartbreak of losing his old party, will Arlo be able to complete his mission?
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It took three weeks to return to France, bouncing all the way over rough dirt roads. Every bump sent lightning through Louis’ body, and threatened to upset the leeches attached to their thigh. The occupants of their wagon changed daily, but thankfully no one else died in front of them. They still died — bodies were hastily buried in shallow graves during the nights — but Louis rarely saw the foetid corpses, and for that, they were grateful. The leeches were slowly weaned off them. At one jolt
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Laharpe’s division was granted a single day to recover, a single day to settle under the command of General Menard, himself under Massena… or was it Vaubois… maybe Augereau? Louis didn’t know. And after a short, furious siege of a walled town not two days after the ambush, they didn’t care. A respite was given for several days after the capture of Milan — Louis didn’t know exactly where that was, but they did know the city was supposed to be wealthy. A few days of searching turned up no gold,
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For the next few weeks, Louis fought battle after battle, action after action. It seemed every day threw their life in jeopardy, and every night forced them on the march to the next day’s peril. Yet… they were moving forward. Not back. That meant they were winning, right? It all stopped one day. Suddenly Louis was permitted to sleep. Suddenly the marches went uninterrupted by cannon and musket fire. For nearly a week, by their count, the war abated. Rumours flew — the Austrians had fled the co
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A dozen soldiers dangled from a chestnut tree along the coastal road to Savona. Louis stared at them as they marched with a new company. A sliver of pity was quickly extinguished — those men had nearly killed them. Louis would afford them no prolonged consideration. Their new boots were stiff, unyielding, threatening blisters on all sides of their feet. But they could feel the harsh rocks underfoot, powerless against the thick leather. A few blisters was a small price to pay for the luxury of
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Throughout that winter, Louis learned the true meaning of desperation. Despite the onset of winter, the French army didn’t rest after the battle at Loano. Through lingering snow and mud, Louis trudged north along the Ligurian coast, in a roiling mass of soldiers and wagons and horses. They clung to their coat, they lamented their lack of boots, they cursed the army for neglecting the poor soldier fighting their war. Weren’t they supposed to get paid? Weren’t they supposed to eat? Louis hadn’t se
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Two armies met outside Bardineto in the Ligurian Prealps. Muskets fired, and one regiment charged through the ensuing smoke. Before they could close with the other, their opponents broke, retreating with some semblance of order east of the village. Louis missed that fight. They were too busy crawling up another mountain overlooking the town. Thankfully, the Austrians didn’t seem eager to drag their cannons up the mountain face, so Louis and Sakis only had to deal with withering musket fire pep
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“Do you want to talk about it?” Leo shook his head, pushing his breakfast around his plate. For some reason, he didn’t feel hungry. It probably had something to do with the emotions battling in his chest. Relief and anger duelled furiously, leaving scorched earth in their wake. They’d woken up in their customary tangle of limbs. Held each other like normal. It was Jeisa who pulled away today, not reluctant but satiated. Leo rolled over in bed, trying to catch a few more moments of peace befo
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Two days after arriving at the division, Louis awoke to almost half a foot of snow weighing them down. Winter had appeared a few weeks early. On the one hand, Louis was relieved — wintertime was no season for prolonged campaigns; at best they might see a couple of foraging skirmishes, if that. On the other hand, they hadn’t had the chance to set up winter quarters, and waking up buried in snow was a miserable experience. Throughout the day, they also heard rumours of action the previous day. J
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Snow whipped around them as Leo and Devin raced back to the house. Devin whooped with glee, kicking drifts and jumping into piles. Leo was more concerned about watching for cars. They could barely see a stone’s throw through the cascade, and the driving wind only made things worse, freezing Leo’s nose, numbing his toes. In the distance, a warm light glowed, a beacon luring them closer to home — until it moved, and a massive truck roared past, taking its light with it. A horn blared behind them
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“Do you see that man over there?” Louis nodded in the late morning light, following Sakis’ pointing finger. Standing before the clock tower, a soldier in bright blue and white gazed out over a growing crowd of shoppers. Tired eyes took in passersby before dismissing them summarily. Sakis knew exactly what he was looking for. Standing in a small alley, the satyr looked Louis over thoughtfully. “You’re hungry. Desperate. There is no hope left for you; your darling betrothed has just abandone
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There was no grand fanfare when Mason Hill walked through the Gate of Hades. For an instant, Athanasios’ lyre faltered. A wrong note was plucked. Then it was done. The latest in a long line of mortals had left him to his fate. He stamped down a flash of indignant rage, and began playing again. The same song and dance, played out time and time again, and always ending in tragedy. The garments he wore warped. Symbols and letters faded, until Sakis was left in a rusted tunic, with a faded red c
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Athanasios was once cursed by Aphrodite to never enter Hades until he experienced true heartbreak. For millennia, the satyr has served at the goddess' whims, a pawn given to mortals who invoke her name. Can a jaded soul find love? Or will Sakis be doomed to forever wander the Necropolis?
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A week passed. Leo played for Mason, with the promise of dinner after the concert. He found Mason speaking to several Faro. “Oh, I’m sorry Leo, I didn’t realise I’d be this busy,” the Cervidas apologised, adding a “Maybe we can get lunch after class tomorrow?” Leo nodded, accepting the offer. Mason never showed. Another week passed. Devin came home from school gushing about a Cervidas Jeisa had shown him. Someone named Michael. When asked about them, Jeisa confided that they were a syn
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They sat together in lavender-infused methane. The soft brown walls enclosed them, offering no escape from what was about to come. A blue Egaro sat in a leather chair, his eyes looking between Jeisa and Leo, not really seeing them. “For this meeting, I would like us to communicate with each other as best as we can. No grunts, nothing ambiguous. Leo, please use your tablet for all communications. It is important to hear each other. We will wait for you, and there will be no interruptions.” Si
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Warmth. Dark. “I got ya,” Thanatos murmured again, soothingly. His wings unfolded, and Mason found himself in… his room. Watching, as Candace Jenkins read to a corpse, as Wishbone sat in a dead man’s lap. “She doesn’t know?” “Give it a couple seconds to take.” Wishbone whimpered suddenly, jumping off his lap. And Mason slumped. “Mason? Mason?!” “There it is,” Thanatos said, as Candace raced from the room to grab someone. “I really got fucked up there in the end, huh?” Mason rubbe
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“Is this thing on? Damn it Braden… always the most expensive… fuck it, it’s on or it’s not- Hey everyone! Welcome to the start of another Farewell Tour! I’m afraid I have to start this tour with some bad news. This will be the final Farewell Tour from Mason Hill. In addition, an extra stop has been added, so make sure you stay tuned for that. We start, as always, with Wyatt Marcus Brown Jr.” Neatly trimmed grass covered a group of graves, marked by marble headstones. The summer sun beat down o
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Eh, that's too smart for the military
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Autumn. They pushed. Charlie Company, 1st Battalion, 184th Infantry Regiment, stood under garish floodlights, checking and double checking their gear. Before them, a concrete bunker contained a pane that looked out over a dark forest. Wide enough for four people to cross through at a time, this pane was the source of all of Auburn’s troubles. Over the past year, guards had watched a thick wooden palisade build up some yards distant, bristling with orcs, with ballistae. The US Army replied
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Summer again. Mason didn’t know what had changed, but it felt like the war was over. They patrolled the city, but more and more, he relaxed. There were no orcs here. There was a cordon around the portal itself — any creature that emerged was shot on sight. Whispers grew that soon, they would push through the portals themselves, they would take the fight to the orcs, and show them why you don’t wake the American war machine. But for now, the army was happy enough to keep to their patrols, and r
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He was gone for a month. And in that time, Mason learned a few things. One, Alex Walsh fucked up. Mason wasn’t supposed to make E-4 until nearly two years in service. He was at least 6-8 months off. Two, corporals weren’t required to go to Basic Leadership Course; that was only for E-4s who wanted the chance to become sergeants. Three… the ocean breeze in summer was rather nice when doing PT. Because PT was the name of the game. Sure, most of the day was spent in classrooms, covering fascinati
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Another airport, another plane. They touched down at 0500 hours the day after Jack’s funeral. Mason trudged into the terminal, halfheartedly trying to remember which way was out, what time the buses started, where he could pick up some chow for Wishbone. He had until 2359 hours before he’d officially be considered AWOL, so there was no need to rush, and certainly no desire to. The pain still throbbed, but for the moment at least, he was all cried out. It was almost a relief. A deep relief that
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Mason Hill had done many impossible things in his life. Walking away from home with his dog at his side. Rebuilding himself after his mother’s death. Clinging to a dying man as his breaths faded. It was not enough. The world demanded more. He sat on a plane beside a long silver container, never once removing his eyes from the spot. All around him, passengers moved, went about their business, lost in their own cares and needs. Wishbone stood silent guard with him, as a kid poked at him, pulle
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He woke up entwined in Leo’s arms again. Jeisa rested his head against the human’s chest, listening to the soft breaths, the shushing heartbeat, feeling the gentle rise and fall. Today was their first couples counseling session with Ulbrin. All too soon, Leo would wake up. They would part. And life would continue dragging Jeisa down. But right now, there was only this moment with the male he loved. Think positive. Ulbrin pointed out that he was always thinking about the worst that could happen
