Legends of the Pink Clan

[Dorn]

/me remembers a fresh young faced hin running to hide behind his legs as the lightning struck outside Triboar

Quite a trip for the wee lass. And i'm sure you had as much fun as anybody has in this game

Best of luck on your Real life adventures coming up. Wish you well and all safety possible.

[Frostfather]

Aaw, i will miss Millia and the smile one always have infront of the screen when seeing her... well being Millia.

Take care PW, see you soon.
/Frostfather
Aurenthil "Arim" former captain of the wayfarers and aspiring champion of Sêlune.

[darrenhfx]

Well played and looking forward to her installment as an NPC.
You'll have to leave a phrasebook with the TLR-DM's if you want us to have a chance of playing her correctly

Look forward to your next creation someday.

D

[alynnrobinso]

Nicha and I will miss Millia tremendously. When Nicha needed cheering in the worst way, when it looked like I would retire her, Millia's sudden and unexpected appearance and ridiculous humor made all the difference. Thank you PW, for all the adventures and especially the laughter.

Good luck and take care.

-alynn

[Rumple C]

Goold luck buddy...


and.....omg Pokks a daddy! maybe

[danielmn]

*salutes* Some of the best rp I've seen in a while. Thanks PW, she was an extraordinary character, and I loved meeting her with every pc I've played. Swift journies friend, hope to see a new character come nwn2, hopefully before.

[psycho_leo]

I only met Millia in her last moments and I regret that. she was a lot of fun. My PC was very sad and surprised when he got to Loudwater and heard news of her death.. and then relieved of hearing of her recovery (yes.. he was there outside the temple, even if she never knew that )

Good luck on whatever you do and hope to see you again for ALFA 2.

[ImStrokerAce]

Huh... I have admit you caught me off guard with the retirement of Millia.. Your... well, lets just call her enthusiastic, chararacter will be missed.... Hope to see you around in NWN 2 with an equally entertaining character...

[valn99]

Posting on the behalf of the "pink man" himself!



Autumn Singing (4Nov06 12:43 AM Local)

The winds blew hard this eve along the dusty roads of the Long Path, sharp and full of promise. It would be a hard winter that comes soon for the region, so used to Chauntea’s fickle temper when it comes to dealing with cold and Aruial’s wraith. But that didn’t diminish the warm feelings in Haven Hills this night. Singing filled with strong tone, inflection and emotion echoed in the night, praise for the Matron Matriarch and The Defender loud and clear. Other calls to the Home Maker and guarded verses to He Who Must Be spoke just a much believe and faith. Some even dared the scampleton’s mirth as well (well, at least a certain hin resident of the hin township that is, famous for both her mischief, magic and unusually colored hair.). Indeed, all was well in Haven Hills, this night, as Leaves fell, almost singing as well….

[PensivesWetness]

X-mas tidings over there…. (24Dec06 0946 AM Local)

The little hin rubbed her hand against the window, wiping away the mist and fog to allow the meager sunlight to come through into her little quiet burrow. She squinted as she searched the white plains around, outside, plenty of snow fallen the previous night to great her. She wrinkled her nose in distaste. She knew she had to use -that- wand again to clear her walk way to the road again…

'Me betters gets Buz-E or me gets yells at, 'gains…'

The little hin puffed her hair from her eyes and sighed a soft murmur to her faith, the Scampleton Brandobaris. She never liked using -that- wand. It never worked right. 'Blum's Burning Hands', she sniffed. More like 'Blum's Burning Farts', she then giggled. Just another day in Haven Hills, on The Long Road. A soft, tanned palm drew some of her hair from her eyes, the glossy pink hair almost fiery in Sune's warm glare…

So, The little hin dressed up in her best winter outfit, warm and snug. She quickly moved her hand through the gestures for casting 'Endure The Elements' and she sighed as the little hint of cold faded away. Grabbing the wand last (with only a cursory glance at the snow shovel her friend, the Mystran Priestess Dara of Shadowdale sent to her as a Mid-Winter's Love gift. 'Should I Use That instead?), Milliam Quicken Stoutfolk, Lorehin, Wizard, Former 'Aventurah!', set out to shovel her snow covered walk way, the old fashioned (yet so typically Millia) way...

With A Weaved Powered Flame Thrower.

:3

Merry X-mas from somewhere in the Gulf…

[valn99]

::huggles::

[PensivesWetness]

The fiercest foe (18Feb07 2049 Local)

It was cold that day on Goose Moose Hill, the rolling hillsides that face the east side of The Long Road. Just north of Haven Hills and flanking Triboar's southern border, it was wild, home to many of Chauntea's charges. Cats, bear and the occasional Goblin sans bear lunch called this region home…

And today, war was a foot, as a tiny galoshes boot cracked through the snow, leaving a long wake of little boot cracks in the other wise white hilly landscape. Hot breath broke through the many layers of fur and clothing, tanned leathers, brown furs and bright green and blue mufflers contrasting with the snow. The fur shape stopped, as if searching for something… or someone…

As a small round impact occurred at the left side of the little bundle of fur, sending it into the snow with a grunt and shriek of pain and surprised laughter.

Kojima Quick Stout howled in loud cackles as she rose from the snow drift pumping her arms in the air, her dull white leathers and very white muffler providing dear concealment as she reached for another snowball, already looking for her next victim… 'Where is sh..*' The question mute as she ducked, the sonic echo of the snowball meant for her face Koji's only clue to how close she avoided defeat from her 'lessers' (her current pet name for her younger siblings). She quickly panned, searching for her assassin, hoping to pay her in kin..*' Again, a wild roll saved her from not one, but three ill thrown balls of snow and dirt (Her Middle sibling and two little friends returning fire)

This was clearly getting out of hand for 'The Snow Maiden of Aim' (as a traveling bard called her, one night in the town hall) as she tossed another accurate volley at her littlest sister, Veritable, her shriek of fear, muffled by the hard impact of snow.

Another roll, more littlest laughter as her sisters and allies gathered for the final attack. Emi was kneeling and pointing at Kojima's fort, explaining total complex plans and ideas to Veritable, who cared in the littlest (I throw snow!) as she picked herself up the ground and her two friends (twin boys of farmer Mary, just down the lane from their warren) who turned around, looking for something behind them.

Grinning something fierce, Kojima stayed below out of sight, ready for her final stand at 'Fort Soppia!' on Goose Moose Hill when she heard a horrid cry of fear. She bolted upright quickly and saw what caused the alarm, the blood going white in her face. 'Fart Not! Gobies!'

The three goblins, dressed in dull white, torn leathers, armed with crudely made spears of knotted pine grinned expressions of lust and greed as they held their rock spear tips towards the hin lass Emi and her three charges, Emilia Quick Stout already grabbing the two stunned boys and running for her life, Veritable turning to run herself and all three goblins made chase. The hills began to echo of fearful chirps and crunching snow...

Kojima, 13 winters young, growled a prayer to her Defender and drew two large blades and barked out into the air, 'Veri! [h] Move! Move! Move!' Already she was flipping herself over the as-tall-as-Kojima+to-her-bottom-again brim of her fort and dashing towards her frightened littlest sister. The goblins made chase still…

That was when Veritable's (Not lucky to have her family's grace and agility) booted foot found purchase on lucky rock and twisted just right. Kojima sadly heard the crack of bone, long before her sister's scream of pain. The howl of Veri's terror was amplified by the goblin's chatters of victor, one spear aimed at the prone back of one hin, the pair remaining towards the rapidly approaching threat.

'Too Easy This!', the tribe goblin thought, as his spear found purchase in the soft flesh of the injured hin to the echoing scream of fear and rage from the other young halfing...

Later that evening…

The Haven Hills warders finished their work, looking over the blood splattered snow field, the evening accumulation falling in small fits in the magical light provided by the Junior Yondalla cleric. One warrior shook his shaven head, amazed at the sight of so much gore and giblets all around them. 'I canno believe that the Lorehin's child did all of this. Three goblins? It looks like a dozen died here.'

His companion crossed his arms around himself, shuttering a shiver, breath a foggy mist around him in a lull of the winds. 'Aye, mate. Good thing, too. She saved her kin from being a meal from what I see all around us.' He made a holy gesture quickly before adding, 'A gift from The Foe Hammer, you think?'

'Tempus, maybe… but this mess from the 'Snow Maiden?' Ha. More like a gift from the Beast Master. Think you're stepping on some gobie nuts, mind ya'h' The other hin snorted in disgust as he side stepped away from his place in the bloody snow….

[PensivesWetness]

How love comes forth in a box: Veritable finds her place and faith... (14Apr07 1:45PM Local)

"Mums, I'm going to the market!" The hin lass yelled out loud as she entered the 'living room' and towards the outer door. She navigated the clutter of plush pillows and small and large chairs with a little sway of unsure hips before reaching the coat and cloak rack. The top rack was a pile of winter mufflers and gloves, layered in a pile 3 hands high. She sighed and reached up for her own green~teal cloak when the large oblique shaped head rose up with fury and evil in it's green emerald and furiously blinking eyes…

"Hello Max~Dear. {fey} Grab my gloves, mighty defender of my mufflers and gloves." She smiled at her mother's familiar, who moved his head to reach for a particular scarf and two clipped together gloves. His expression never faded, though clearly he was pleased at the kind and warm words and he dipped his long neck to allow the Halfling to scratch him just between and slightly behind his eyes. The fairy dragon hissed in pleasure and Veritable Quicken Stoutfolk giggled with delight herself before getting her coat and winter clothing in order. Behind her, came her mother's reply.

"{Halfling} Veritable~Fon Üja, makes sure you gets sugars and Fluffiest Powder! Me is baking!", barked out the older Halfling, smiling at both her daughter and her wizardly familiar. The fey dragon merely snorted and turned his head to preen and Millia Quicken Stoutfolk giggled herself as she made her way through the mess that was her home. Veritable was just wrapping her scarf around her neck as her mother helped with a few undone buttons, which made the young lass roll her eyes. "I'm 16, mother, not 3…. Thank you."

Her mother finished prepping her daughter and scoffed, shaking her head. "{Halfling} And you is more likes Kojima, darlings. You have enough coin, yes?" Veritable nodded her head and slipped on her snow cap, heading towards the door. Once outside in the cold and snow, her step became rushed with a sense of urgency, to leave, to flee the stifling motherly clutches of home. Millia watched her daughter stomp through the snow, wincing with each perceived step. She didn't mean to coddle her (Former, she didn't tell them that she had been visited again) littlest daughter but she always worried none the less…



_______________________________________________________



She exited the north gate and reached the main road that traveled between Westbridge and Triboar, muddy from recent cleaning. The snow was falling and soon the roads would need to be cleared once more by magic. She took a gentle step, not rushed, not hurried or harried to reach the town to the north. Her mood improved as the snow appeared on the road again (Millia's magic being limited and Triboar currently showing no interest in investing in the Lorehin's magical efforts at transportation support) and she paused to kneel and scoop a handful of snow to make into a ball. As she rose, her thoughts drifted back to all those days of play… and the day she almost died.

Her nose wrinkled left and right as she suddenly smelt something….. "Fowl….. What is that smell?" She kept walking down the lane, the smell increasing as she reached the small creak that bordered the trail at one point. The water was clear, not frozen, which was "….odd since normally it would have been at least cracked and thinly covered…". The Halfling kept moving following as the smell increased in intensity.

"There….." She exhaled. She saw a small box, perhaps 1 to 2 peoples tall but on it's side. The snow was covered with a black substance, almost tar like. The water was soiled here, a glossy sheen slowly drifting north towards Triboar. Faint snow tracks lead off towards the road but appeared to lead south, to her. She looked very worried as she remembered many of her mother's stories about such occurrences being usually bad or ill mannered in intent. She had to do something. With her top teeth gripping her lower lip, she started to turn when she heard the chattering growl.

She froze and turned slowly, expecting to see a huge 'BIGBIGBIG Wolfie with skull head!' or a large brown bear with a bolt in his arse, ready to finish the work that 3 goblins failed to do. "Nothing?" All around her was snow, the polluted stream, the Goose-Moose hills to her east and oily covered box….. That shuddered and shifted as the box "growled…..?" Her formerly frightened expression changed to curiosity and concern. "What is in the box?", she wondered out loud and she approached the box with caution. The oily snow was damp but muffled her steps as she advanced and looked at the box closely. It was plain looking wood, birch or pine and mostly covered with the oil…. That was coming out of a hole on the side. Several holes in fact, the hin moved closer and the growl came again, from inside. A beast, small and scared, she could tell, something that greatly disliked it's current location. She eventually found a lock, noted the hinges of a door. She looked around again to put all these odd pieces together. The beast growled again, weaker now and Veritable knew she had to ask with swiftness.

She couldn't bust the lock or pick it (That wasn't a lesson her mother taught her in particular) but she had a stone that her mother ensorced for times like this. She reached into the pocket of her galoshes and hefted the jade stone. Millia had made it for magically opening locks and non structural doors, her youngest daughter having had a bad habit of losing her keys (actually stolen by her sister Emilia). She had only used this a few times before she grew wise to her sibling's mischief ('It was -Training- Mother!') and remembered that one charged remained. She shook her clenched palm in the air, said the command word and tossed the stone at the box….

And nothing happened at first.

Veritable had the first syllable of a Elvish curse on her lips when the lock popped open and dropped into the snow….. And the box end facing away from her exploded. She screamed and covered her face but felt no flames or debris touch her. Trembling, she lowered her gloved hands from her eyes. The box end was burning, as was the oil in the stream. The box was wide open and empty, though totally filed with oil. It stopped bubbling and flowing, but still was slowly coming to flame. She then felt something at her feet, trembling and gripping. She leaded forward and looked down to find a small furry, if oil covered….. "thing" hugging her legs in terror. Tan fur could seen amid the oily gook that had covered the creature but it was it's…. His piercing blue eyes is what caught her attention outright. Without even thinking, she undid her cloak, kneeled to wrap and pick up the little oily beast and headed home as quick as her feet allowed.

________________________________________________________

Later that day, the warders had come to inspect the box for clues on it's origin (after being alerted by Veritable as she entered Haven Hills once more) but found little remains. The fire, apparently was caused by something that reacted badly to Millia's magical Knock spell, which consumed the box, almost all the oil in the snow, and sheen, all down the river. Guardsman and tradesmen remembered a odd wagon passing south to Red Larch but nothing besides that. The wagon had come from the north, though officials from as far as Triboar or Yartar could not add any useful information. Eventually, because no real answers, little evidence remained, and no clear intent of ill will could be discerned, the matter was eventually forgotten by the town authorities. But in the Lorehin's tower that night and many days after, Veritable labored to care for her new found friend. As she scrubbed him, washed him and examined him, the beast growled quietly.

Her mother and her oldest sister Kojima watched quietly in the back ground and the curious daughter turned to her mother with a question. "what is it, Mums?", asked Koji quietly, biting her lower lip as she watched her sister work, though trying very hard not to be so obviously in her interest. "Him…. Uh me think him is him…. Veri~Love, lift him to me? Yes?" The daughter did so, grabbing the still oily beast under it's armpits and it growled and hissed impotently, little claws popping out of his little paws. "Yes! Him is him!" Both the mother and daughter giggled but Veri went back to work, cleaning and scrubbing the loudly suffering and secretly adoring little beast. "He's a badger, I think, mom. A babe…. Can I keep him?"

Millia paused as she deliberately drawn out her answer and though Kojima gritted her teeth and looked like she would blow up on her mother, Veritable waited patiently. She already knew the answer but just performed the motions to placate her elders. "Yes. You keeps him Veritables~Love. Me suggest you brings him to Chauntea Droo-id Lady for lookie. Yes?" Kojima had to take several breaths to calm down but Veri nodded her head in thanks. "I will, mother".

She picked up the baby badger by his underarms and marched him to the mirror. In the reflection was a comely hin lass of brunette hair tied and bunned, with pink eye brows to compliment her blue eyes. The badger also looked into the mirror, a helpless hostage to vanity. His fur, now mostly clean was brown and a bit tan, his underside stark white. He growled softly and again those claws popped out of his paws. "What you gonna call him, Veri~Fart?" Kojima's striking visage appeared next to her sister, nothing like her 'youngest' sister. Veri merely smiled. "{Halfling} Báh. {Common} I found him in a box so I'll call him… Báh."

Since he was getting annoyed at looking at himself in the mirror, the baby badger named 'Box' did the only thing he could, considering the his dire circumstances: He peed on himself in the mirror…

[PensivesWetness]

And they cometh with children in their wagon: New arrivals to Shadowdale (28Feb05 7:48 AM local, updated 18apr07 2:48pm local)

The bald man with a sword and a book, was reading calmly in the lovely shadow of a hot afternoon in the 'Dale. Clouds traveled listlessly by, far above and Sune was beginning to head west finally. Turning pages in a patient manner, enjoying the moment, it was movement to the south that caught his eye...

A wagon, with a cranky old mule lead by a woman in meshy blue armor chain links, slowly made it's way towards the crossroads he faced. Another woman, in leathers, bearing the look of weariness of travel walked besides the lead, soft shadows flickering about the wagon behind it.

The bald man wasn't entirely interested; wagons and old mules being fairly common in this region, after all and almost forgot all of it, if not for something that caused him to merely perk an eyebrow. Singing, from inside the wagon it sounded. Children, seeming happy and LOUD, singing...

The Smurf song.

The wagon disgorged it's contents, 6 dirty but smiling lads and 4 equally dirty lasses, who lined up to the commands of the female scout, who them huggled them all, wishing great thanks at arriving finally, their long trek across the realm over.

"All right, children. Line up! Line up! Yes, you too, Megan, dear. Brynn? Will you escort them to the inn? I'm going to see the horse cobbler about the mule and wagon."

"Yes, Gabriel. Come along, kids! The pie at the Old Skull is to die for!" The leather clad scout grinned something fierce as the various children shrieked with laughter, following their protector~Mistress up towards the incline to the famous Shadowdale landmark.

The bald man quirked his lips, saying nothing as the woman scout lead her charges to the Old Skull Inn up on the hill to clean up her cheering and delighted charges. The mesh clad woman named 'Brynn' watched her gaggle approach the inn front doors before turning and marching off, apparently going behind the wagon. She paused just at the end of the wagon and seemed to talk in hushed tones with someone behind the wagon just out of view. Glancing around as if looking for someone else, the woman then headed towards the stables.

She called back over her shoulder, 'Millia, if you see 'Muggles', you make sure he doesn't try to sell the children or something, dear…' almost laughing before she, too was lost from sight. Shaking his head, the reader's eyes dropped back to his book. The man almost had forgot the whole affair when he heard soft giggles before him, child like but certainly not from any child.

Hin giggles.


He looked up and saw HER, the source of the laughter, a female Halfling (probably Lightfoot), 3 feet in height, wearing dirty adventuring leathers, laced in red trim, a dark colored full cloak billowing with a round wooden shield with goblinoid markers on her left arm, a quarrel rack mounted on a ridiculously huge adventurer's pack and sword scabbard on her hip. large tanned leather hip bags flanked her hips and her leather blouse torn open to show case her smallish bosom. She was all looking up to the round canopy of the tree, clearly enchanted by the sight, grinning ear to ear to nose.

The bald man watched her for a few minutes before looking away again, content to read his book, perhaps hoping she might leave. When she finally took notice of him, her grin grew more cat like now, as she soft padded under the leafy tree and noticed the reading of his book. With soft, curious expressive tones, she asked of the man. "What book reading, Baldy? hmm?" *she giggles*

It was then that he looked up with mild annoyance and took note of her peculiar hair (and somewhere in the deepest recesses of his stomach, something lurched. *thinking* Pink?).

originally posted in Shadowdale's forum segment, I worked a few question marks out of the way, out of bordom & mischift... enjoy!

[PensivesWetness]

Private ventures, private failures (4May06 Unknown Time)

This is a old story i meant to post long ago. Hehe, yeah, Millia isn't the best tank. Even better when your foes are Bugbears, a race very near & feared by our pink-haired heroine. Gotta remember to huggle NickD for a fun night...

"Mmm… The beds are comfy here. Clean as well... surprisingly. Slept well?" Sylvia Lane spoke with surprising amounts of emotion today as she greeted her travel companion this morn. Resting on a old bench next to the inn, she watched the warrior march outside and walk over to her, smiling and waving to her in return. "Greetings m'lady... Aye.. that I did.. ." Both adventurers began to check over their belongings with determination, both unawares of something sleeping in their mist. Rising up and looking ready, Jarrid Aseph looked down at his companion and her efforts of self inspection.

"have we preparations to yet sort out?" Sylvia checked her bolt quarrel once more and frowned. "Hmm.. i could buy some more bolts. Running rather low after that undead fight." The other man nodded in agreement. "Yes.. Let us get prepared…". Both individuals moved out down the dirty lane towards the general store, still unaware of the little form under that bench, who was no longer sleeping. That little form crawled into view and grinned something fierce indeed as it decided to follow them on a whim.

_____________________________________________________________

"Nay.. I use a sword.. My father has worked with me since I was a child on it, Sylvia." Jarrid said to the elf-kin as they both looked over the various adventuring goods offered. Both merchants on duty smiled dutifully but kept their eyes on both of them, more examples of the 'Hospitality' this town exhibited to strangers. Sylvia shopped with indifference herself, seemingly accustomed to such behavior. "I see… you must.. have shared quite the bond, then." The man nodded and pointed to both the quarrel and arrow shelves for the tradesman's benefit. "We did.... He has been more than a father to me.. A mentor.. a Idol.. a Teacher. One each, sir."

Sylvia narrowed her eyes as her hand drifted across a ornate and bejeweled dagger. The written tag indicated it was magical and listed it's supposed qualities. She looked at the tag only a moment however before moving on. "i used to own a dagger like this." She gestured towards the expensive dagger on the table with a weak smile. "I wish i can say i bought it. I found it on a corpse in Waterdeep, long ago."

"Used to?", he asked and she nodded sadly in reply before answering back to him. "Sadly it was taken from me." Jarrid let the matter drop as he detected more than a lingering amount of bitterness in her tone. Wisely he changed the subject. "Did you see her crossbow?"

"I've grown used to larger bows. The gear crank is larger, thus easier for me to operate, though it still packs a punch when I trigger it. Two quarrel barrels please." They continued to chat while making their purchases, all the while still unaware they were being observed from a window outside.

_____________________________________________________________

The pair headed out of town, leaving Loudwater's rough and indifferent folk behind heading east. Their goal: The village of Orlbar. They traveled the roads without much incident. They continued to be followed by clever shadows, who wished to remain shadowy and stealthy as possible. They talked quietly as they traveled, the elf-kin speaking with more emotion than she had ever heard from her before. "How long has it been.. since you saw your father as flesh?" Jarrid kept his pace, actively looking around him for danger in the wood, still unaware of their tail. "A long time... "

They entered a unmarked town along the way, their shadow flitting behind ramshackle homes with overgrown weeds and more fowl things in the grasses. The pair passed a large tower to their right, along the river. Crumbling and in disrepair, it looked inhospitable in the least and the curious shadow took care not to even touch it. Their shadow almost lost them as they entered some unmarked establishment then, and it kneeled down in a dark alleyway across the road. Pulling out a trail ration and deciding to wait a bit, the shadow staked out her quarry of curiosity.

A few quarter wax burns pass and the shadow grows worried then. "What if they left back? Me Loses them sure!", it thought in common blocks of phrase. The night was upon it fully now and as wax continued to melt, so did the increasing worry and indecision. It made it's mind up and slowly began to rise to it's feet when it caught sight of movement on the road. A hin, dressed in dark fineries and whistling a Amnish tune. He passed her unnoticed and entered the establishment as well. With a extra long exhale, the shadow came into view and marched towards the building to see exactly what the 'Hubbub!' was with it…..

_____________________________________________________________

As the shadow no more groaned opening the door to the surprisingly cheery pub, several eyes turned to greet the little stranger that came in. Dressed in black silk, leathered boots and gloves and a peculiar helm, made from a deer's skull, the little shadow, looked around in a sweeping motion. Several patrons, including the pair of adventurers the shadow had followed, looked at the stranger with curiosity.

Sylvia and the gentlemen warrior known as Jarrid were talking amongst themselves when the little stranger in deer helm approached them, stopping three short paces from them. Her helm orientation told them she was looking up to them, still quiet and pensive. The man finally spoke with a cracked and hoarse sound in his voice. "Greetings Miss…?"

The stranger opened the cover of her deer helm, exposing tan skin, freckles and a rather goofy smile, clear over flowing in enthusiasm. "Me thoughts you goes-goes! Me no sees Sylvia Lady no longs!" The stranger no more then raised her hands above her head and towards the surprised woman in clear indication she wanted to huggle. Sylvia Lane rarely was surprised by most things but she was always a easy mark for the adventuress Milliam Quicken Stoutfolk of Shadowdale…

_____________________________________________________________

They talked well into the night, discussing local and regional events. The hin that Millia had seen entering also had business with Jarrid Aseph, as he had identified himself to the pink haired hin as earlier in the eve. They discussed and planned for a trek to Shinning Falls, currently contested by various humanoid factions. Jarrid's plan was simple. Cause numerous war partied to battle each other, allowing himself and Sylvia to enter a cave unmolested and recover a family heirloom. Talk of drow and worse were passed quietly and the hin was quiet as she listened and evaluated what was presented to her. It sounded dangerous. It sounded outrageous, the plan. It didn't even have a glimmer of chance of success. Yet…. Millia agreed to go none the less.

They stopped at the general store for last minute purchases before heading out of town with a clip. The woods did not present them any foes to dispatch.

_____________________________________________________________

It was two mornings later in Shining Falls when all three adventures saw sun shine again, emerging from the cave after a long night of danger, terror and violence. Jarrid limped out first, his backpack thick with loot, the new scabbard he bought 3 days ago filed with the sword he had sought for far longer. His armor as dented and worn, giving truth on just how difficult his journey was. Next came the sorceress Sylvia, her bruised skin, torn clothing and fierce expression softening as her eyes saw Sune once again. She moved with grace and pride. She truly felt wonderful and her troubles behind her, she hoped fervently. Last and slightly least, the hin Millia also limped along. Her clothing had many cuts and tears, her shield bended many times from many blows. She closed her eyes and prayed as she glimpsed the sun once again.

They didn't speak until Sune was nearing high sun when they finally reached safety of the village (Millia still didn't know it's name). They traded thanks and pleasantries, even some coin as payment for a successful mission. The man had his family sword. The woman, some honest adventure to temper her own mistrials. The halfling however, was especially quiet. For her, she had faced and possibly exercised some of her personal fears. She did not discuss the trip to anyone else, choosing to keep it private. Some failings are better off unwritten anyway. Still, she was alive. She faced uncertain odds and prevailed. Thus it proves the validity of the old orcish war maxim: Nothing ventured, nothing sundered...