EPTI decided to do this on a whim. I am not a professional writer, far from it. But I do write as hobby, albeit terribly. What I wanted to do is contribute to something I love. I have recently started to help log the episodes with Tuxalonso and RayzorFlash, under the screen name TenchiSaWada.
I've always loved Rollplay because I am a DnD'er myself. I recommend Rollplay to anyone. The youtube Vods are online or you can Subscribe to Itmejp for the the Twitch Vods.
Now, background. This story is not an official story. Let's say it straight: This is a fanfic. Now before you Ctrl+W immediately and begin washing yourself of internet cooties and watch cat videos on reddit, hear me out.
Fanfic is like any other form of fan work. Music, Art Etc. I encourage everyone to contribute, even if you don't think it's good (because it'll certainly be better than me.) Also, please critique me, as Learning is probably one of the best trails in life.
Please Comment and Rate
So Here we GO
Beginnings.
+ Show Spoiler +
Destiny. A constant in the world. It was something he had learned over the years, many years. Being in control for so long, to know what paths laid before people, he knew all to well what destiny was. It wasn't as inevitable or narrow as fate. No one was bound by it, no one was restricted by it. Destiny is a path, several paths, and every person has multiple destines. He had seen a beggar become a knight, he had seen a prince become a tyrant. These was all their destiny, one that he chose for them. One that he guided them to. But he grew bored of these simple manipulations. He grew tired of simply nudging the soul along, simply letting the pieces fall or build accordingly. No, he wanted something fresh, something more. People had many destinies. And than, in the fewest of numbers, there were people who didn't. They were rarer than dragons, and probably more dangerous. They were strange. They were like him. Those that did not have paths before them. Someone who was not bound to paths, to manipulations. No, these people, these souls were those beyond destiny. They were unbound.
They could be anything they wanted. Anything they chose. Destiny bowed before them, and they trod on it daily. It was today, after long years of calling, of pushing and of tugging, was he able to gather a group of people. Gather four souls who were beyond destiny.
The sun bore down, through the leaves, onto a cloaked figure. The, relatively, small man was kneeling down, looking at he ground intently as if to discern some information. On his back was a bow, already strung as if expecting battle. The man's dirty hands moved carefully through the soil, feeling different part. “The tracks are still fresh” he murmured to himself.
The man removed his hood, while reaching for his bow. He was not the athletic type, actually he was quite skinny, almost sickly skinny. The man attributed it to half starving and fighting his way across the sea and this land. He had gotten used to not eating much. The man's short blond hair messily clung to his skin, due to the sweat. Ladies wouldn't mind him, he was ruggedly handsome, being an elf and all. As he reached for his bow, he felt a twitch in his shoulder. Over the years of surviving, of struggling, he had learned to trust his instincts as a ranger.
The elf spun around, bow out, arrow notched, ready to fire at the person who was sneaking upon him. He was surprised to see another bow and elf staring right back at him. The elf was blonde with red eyes. She wore no cloak, but instead a pouch. He noticed, with a quick scan, that a small animal must be living in the bag, due to a lump moving around in it. He wouldn't call this elf a beauty, but she did look quite dangerous with that bow.
“Might I ask why you are here?” He said.
The female elf smirked. “Should the question not be, Who are you?”
The ranger raised an eyebrow. “oh? Is it not why you are here, better for the situation?”
The female laughed. “Is not who you are not, better for the conversation?”
He shrugged, though not taking his bow off her. “Sometimes it is better for our weapons to do the talking.” He looked into the eyes of the Elf and saw her eyes shift for a moment, as if surprised by something. He did not bother to turn around, as he had heard what was approaching easily. Though, he was more focused on what was behind this elf as well.
“My name is Bregor” He grunted out. “I am a ranger.”
The elf smiled, “I am Abigael. Resident Spender of others gold.”
“A theif?” Bregor said, raiding an eyebrow.
The elf smiled. “A opportunist.” With that, the thief shifted her bow to the right and fired. Bregor, shifted his aim towards the goblin that was approaching Abigael from behind. His aim was true and the arrow sunk in between the eyes of the goblin. It fell without so much as a whimper.
Abigael lowered her bow and sighed. “I was here to hunt this goblins. They killed a trader a couple miles back. I went to go collect the stolen goods.”
Bregor nodded. He had been hunting the pair of goblins that had been terrorizing the trading roads. While they were not especially dangerous, they did cause trouble. He watched as the thief immediately started looting the bodies.
“What is in your pouch by the way?” Bregor asked. Now interested in the moving lump, iner her bag. The other elf's eyes brightened.
“You mean Mr. Mugwuggles.” Bregor held in a snort. The elf didn't seem to notice. She was too excited as she reached into her pack and brought out a ferret and held it out for Bregor to see.
“This is Mr. Mugwuggles. Give him a high five.”
The ferret as if on cue, raised its little hand. Bregor, as he raised his hand and tapped the hand in disbelief, thought to himself. 'what have I gotten myself into.'
-------------------------------------------------------------
A large, well built man walked up to the bar carefully. He didn't clang loudly in his armor, he knew how to move silently when he wanted to. His training was quite, relentless in adapting. He sidled up next to his target and sat down. He blanched at the smell, but kept his face from showing his disgust. He had smelt worse things.
“Hello friend.” He said in a low voice.
His target turned and eyed him, while drinking his alcohol. “And who might you be? You look kind of fancy for this kind of establishment.”
The human felt a pang of annoyance. He had chosen this armor and grown out his hair as to not attract attention. He sighed inwardly, there was still many things he still needed to learn.
“Just came to warn you friend. Those men in the corner have been eyeing your hide for the last hour and a half. They probably mean you harm.”
The half ogre snorted. “I know. Though you should probably buy yourself a drink as to not look suspicious.”
The warrior blinked and grunted. “I probably should stay sober in case-”
The taller man just laughed and looked at the barkeep. “An apple juice for this man please.”
The barkeep nodded and placed a glass in front of him. The warrior nodded his head in thanks.
“My name is Vincent.” He muttered while taking a sip of this apple juice. He had never had this concoction in his old home. They were above this kind of peasant drink. The flavor filled his mouth and sent a shiver down Vincent's spine. “This is … quite good.”
The half-ogre let out a bark of laughter. “My name is Tudagub. Now, you should probably leave before you get yourself in trouble. Many do not like the company of a half-ogre, or those in the half-ogre's company.”
Vincent let out a smirk. “I can take care of my self, friend. Though it seems you can as well.” he nodded towards the maul on the Half-ogre's belt. Tudagub ignored the small talk as he noticed several men getting up and walking towards them. Downing his drink, the green skinned man stood up and faced the newcomers. Noticing the shift, Vincent turned around and put his hand on his sword. 5 men surrounded them, some of them swaying from the amount of alcohol they had consumed.
“Yo' ha'f blooded pig. Sh'uld git out.” One of the older, bearded man slurred pointing at Tudagub. Vincnet took in the man's hands. The man's hand was calloused and scarred, though his knuckles were not. That meant either farmer or craftsmen, unlikely to have been a soldier. Good.
Tudagub simply burped. “You could just leave and save yourself the trouble”
The man, ignored the half-ogre, moving in to take a swing. Tudagub leaned back, fist missed wide. Vincent moved forward and smashed his first into the man's cheek. The drunk fell to the floor knocked cold. The brawl ensued.
Tudagub and Vincent went back to back, as they both were facing two people each. But for farmers and craftsmen to go against two adventurers, it was child's play.
Tudagub reached out with both arms and quickly grabbed the two men's heads. His large hands easily grasped the sides of their face. Pulling them both in, the half-ogre smashed the two drunks heads together. With a loud clunk, the men crumpled to the ground, clutching their heads and dazed.
Vincent dashed forward, lashing out with a jab at the man to his left. His gauntlet pushed into the man's face, a sickening crack was heard as the man's nose was broken. The man to Vincent's right had taken out a knife and stabbed at Vincent.
Raising his right arm, Vincent grunted as the blade stabbed into his right forearm. Suddenly, Tudagub reached and held Vincent's attacker's arms. Vincent relaxed slightly as he reasoned, the drunk wouldn't be able to free himself from Tudagub's grip.
“Hold him still if you would, Tudagub.” Vincent growled as he pulled the knife out of his arm, dropping it to the ground. Vincent stared into the drunk's eyes.
“Bringing a knife to a bar fight.” Vincent shook his head in disgust. Taking off his right glove, Vincent reached back and slapped the man. A loud clap was heard through out the bar. Many people gasped, making a sound for the first time since the bar fight started. Other people flinched at the strength of the blow. Some even touched the cheek as if they had been struck. But all of them thought 'That was when hell of a slap.'
The man in Tudagub's grip slumped like a puppet losing it's strings, unconscious. Vincent sighed as he looked at his arm, it would probably need bandages.
“Ahem” Tudagub coughed. As he looked at the arm, “Thank you for helping me, Vincent, correct?”
Vincent nodded. “That is correct my friend. We should go find some bandages, wouldn't want to stain my clothes.”
Tudagub smirked, “Allow me to give you a massage, you will feel much better.”
Vincent cocked his head to the side, in confusion. “A massage?”
Tudagub reached forward, “In thanks, Please I must insist”
Vincent shrugged and gave the man his arm. Tudagub took the arm and massaged it, muttering under his breath. Vincent's eyes widened as he watched his wound close.
“You are a cleric?” Vincent gasped.
Tudagub let go of Vincent's arm. “I've been told, that I've surprised many people.”
Vincent smiled at this. “Rightly so. Shall we go find another bar friend?”
Tudagub gave the human a wide smile. “We shall”
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“So you want this to be transported towards Fitchview”
“yes” Replied a thin, bald man. Bregor evaluated his newest client. As an adventurer, money was hard to come by, unless you got lucky. So taking jobs, while traveling from one city to the next, was a benefit in itself.
“Will we have to come back for payment?”
The man shook his head. “No, I will be giving you a letter and half the payment, my contact at Fitchview will give you the rest of the payment.”
Bregor looked left towards his newest partner in crime, well she mostly committed the crime, while he watched. Abigael looked up, from playing with her ferret, Mr. mugwuggles if he remembered correctly, and nodded.
Bregor turned and smiled, “good we'll take the job.”
The man nodded quickly before pausing. “You should know that I have hired another pair, as these goods are quite expensive. Your payment, however, will not be changed.”
Bregor shrugged. Two extra pair of hands was always good in his opinion.
“When will this pair be arriving.”
“We are already here, friend.” A voice called behind him. The voice held an air of confidence, or arrogance depending on how you listened to it. Bregor turned and careful not to draw his bow, he grew twitchy when people came from behind.
Bregor saw a two tall warriors walking towards them. One of them carried a sword, the other a maul. They didn't seem, sinister, no he felt something else. He felt as if he had met them before but...
Bregor mentally shook himself from his thoughts and nodded towards them.
“Well met, My name is Bregor.” Gesturing towards his elf companion. “This is Abigael.”
The human nodded towards him, in acknowledgement. “My name is Vincent. This is Tudagub. Well, I see no time to waste. Shall we get to know each other while traveling?”
Bregor nodded, and looked towards Neal for final instructions and the goods. Neal held out a small bag. “These are very precious, please do not damage them or you will lose pay from my contact.”
Bregor nodded, taking the bag and strapping it to his bag. “Let us head towards Fitchview than.”
And that was the first time the party was assembled.
This is the End of Part 1.
They could be anything they wanted. Anything they chose. Destiny bowed before them, and they trod on it daily. It was today, after long years of calling, of pushing and of tugging, was he able to gather a group of people. Gather four souls who were beyond destiny.
The sun bore down, through the leaves, onto a cloaked figure. The, relatively, small man was kneeling down, looking at he ground intently as if to discern some information. On his back was a bow, already strung as if expecting battle. The man's dirty hands moved carefully through the soil, feeling different part. “The tracks are still fresh” he murmured to himself.
The man removed his hood, while reaching for his bow. He was not the athletic type, actually he was quite skinny, almost sickly skinny. The man attributed it to half starving and fighting his way across the sea and this land. He had gotten used to not eating much. The man's short blond hair messily clung to his skin, due to the sweat. Ladies wouldn't mind him, he was ruggedly handsome, being an elf and all. As he reached for his bow, he felt a twitch in his shoulder. Over the years of surviving, of struggling, he had learned to trust his instincts as a ranger.
The elf spun around, bow out, arrow notched, ready to fire at the person who was sneaking upon him. He was surprised to see another bow and elf staring right back at him. The elf was blonde with red eyes. She wore no cloak, but instead a pouch. He noticed, with a quick scan, that a small animal must be living in the bag, due to a lump moving around in it. He wouldn't call this elf a beauty, but she did look quite dangerous with that bow.
“Might I ask why you are here?” He said.
The female elf smirked. “Should the question not be, Who are you?”
The ranger raised an eyebrow. “oh? Is it not why you are here, better for the situation?”
The female laughed. “Is not who you are not, better for the conversation?”
He shrugged, though not taking his bow off her. “Sometimes it is better for our weapons to do the talking.” He looked into the eyes of the Elf and saw her eyes shift for a moment, as if surprised by something. He did not bother to turn around, as he had heard what was approaching easily. Though, he was more focused on what was behind this elf as well.
“My name is Bregor” He grunted out. “I am a ranger.”
The elf smiled, “I am Abigael. Resident Spender of others gold.”
“A theif?” Bregor said, raiding an eyebrow.
The elf smiled. “A opportunist.” With that, the thief shifted her bow to the right and fired. Bregor, shifted his aim towards the goblin that was approaching Abigael from behind. His aim was true and the arrow sunk in between the eyes of the goblin. It fell without so much as a whimper.
Abigael lowered her bow and sighed. “I was here to hunt this goblins. They killed a trader a couple miles back. I went to go collect the stolen goods.”
Bregor nodded. He had been hunting the pair of goblins that had been terrorizing the trading roads. While they were not especially dangerous, they did cause trouble. He watched as the thief immediately started looting the bodies.
“What is in your pouch by the way?” Bregor asked. Now interested in the moving lump, iner her bag. The other elf's eyes brightened.
“You mean Mr. Mugwuggles.” Bregor held in a snort. The elf didn't seem to notice. She was too excited as she reached into her pack and brought out a ferret and held it out for Bregor to see.
“This is Mr. Mugwuggles. Give him a high five.”
The ferret as if on cue, raised its little hand. Bregor, as he raised his hand and tapped the hand in disbelief, thought to himself. 'what have I gotten myself into.'
-------------------------------------------------------------
A large, well built man walked up to the bar carefully. He didn't clang loudly in his armor, he knew how to move silently when he wanted to. His training was quite, relentless in adapting. He sidled up next to his target and sat down. He blanched at the smell, but kept his face from showing his disgust. He had smelt worse things.
“Hello friend.” He said in a low voice.
His target turned and eyed him, while drinking his alcohol. “And who might you be? You look kind of fancy for this kind of establishment.”
The human felt a pang of annoyance. He had chosen this armor and grown out his hair as to not attract attention. He sighed inwardly, there was still many things he still needed to learn.
“Just came to warn you friend. Those men in the corner have been eyeing your hide for the last hour and a half. They probably mean you harm.”
The half ogre snorted. “I know. Though you should probably buy yourself a drink as to not look suspicious.”
The warrior blinked and grunted. “I probably should stay sober in case-”
The taller man just laughed and looked at the barkeep. “An apple juice for this man please.”
The barkeep nodded and placed a glass in front of him. The warrior nodded his head in thanks.
“My name is Vincent.” He muttered while taking a sip of this apple juice. He had never had this concoction in his old home. They were above this kind of peasant drink. The flavor filled his mouth and sent a shiver down Vincent's spine. “This is … quite good.”
The half-ogre let out a bark of laughter. “My name is Tudagub. Now, you should probably leave before you get yourself in trouble. Many do not like the company of a half-ogre, or those in the half-ogre's company.”
Vincent let out a smirk. “I can take care of my self, friend. Though it seems you can as well.” he nodded towards the maul on the Half-ogre's belt. Tudagub ignored the small talk as he noticed several men getting up and walking towards them. Downing his drink, the green skinned man stood up and faced the newcomers. Noticing the shift, Vincent turned around and put his hand on his sword. 5 men surrounded them, some of them swaying from the amount of alcohol they had consumed.
“Yo' ha'f blooded pig. Sh'uld git out.” One of the older, bearded man slurred pointing at Tudagub. Vincnet took in the man's hands. The man's hand was calloused and scarred, though his knuckles were not. That meant either farmer or craftsmen, unlikely to have been a soldier. Good.
Tudagub simply burped. “You could just leave and save yourself the trouble”
The man, ignored the half-ogre, moving in to take a swing. Tudagub leaned back, fist missed wide. Vincent moved forward and smashed his first into the man's cheek. The drunk fell to the floor knocked cold. The brawl ensued.
Tudagub and Vincent went back to back, as they both were facing two people each. But for farmers and craftsmen to go against two adventurers, it was child's play.
Tudagub reached out with both arms and quickly grabbed the two men's heads. His large hands easily grasped the sides of their face. Pulling them both in, the half-ogre smashed the two drunks heads together. With a loud clunk, the men crumpled to the ground, clutching their heads and dazed.
Vincent dashed forward, lashing out with a jab at the man to his left. His gauntlet pushed into the man's face, a sickening crack was heard as the man's nose was broken. The man to Vincent's right had taken out a knife and stabbed at Vincent.
Raising his right arm, Vincent grunted as the blade stabbed into his right forearm. Suddenly, Tudagub reached and held Vincent's attacker's arms. Vincent relaxed slightly as he reasoned, the drunk wouldn't be able to free himself from Tudagub's grip.
“Hold him still if you would, Tudagub.” Vincent growled as he pulled the knife out of his arm, dropping it to the ground. Vincent stared into the drunk's eyes.
“Bringing a knife to a bar fight.” Vincent shook his head in disgust. Taking off his right glove, Vincent reached back and slapped the man. A loud clap was heard through out the bar. Many people gasped, making a sound for the first time since the bar fight started. Other people flinched at the strength of the blow. Some even touched the cheek as if they had been struck. But all of them thought 'That was when hell of a slap.'
The man in Tudagub's grip slumped like a puppet losing it's strings, unconscious. Vincent sighed as he looked at his arm, it would probably need bandages.
“Ahem” Tudagub coughed. As he looked at the arm, “Thank you for helping me, Vincent, correct?”
Vincent nodded. “That is correct my friend. We should go find some bandages, wouldn't want to stain my clothes.”
Tudagub smirked, “Allow me to give you a massage, you will feel much better.”
Vincent cocked his head to the side, in confusion. “A massage?”
Tudagub reached forward, “In thanks, Please I must insist”
Vincent shrugged and gave the man his arm. Tudagub took the arm and massaged it, muttering under his breath. Vincent's eyes widened as he watched his wound close.
“You are a cleric?” Vincent gasped.
Tudagub let go of Vincent's arm. “I've been told, that I've surprised many people.”
Vincent smiled at this. “Rightly so. Shall we go find another bar friend?”
Tudagub gave the human a wide smile. “We shall”
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“So you want this to be transported towards Fitchview”
“yes” Replied a thin, bald man. Bregor evaluated his newest client. As an adventurer, money was hard to come by, unless you got lucky. So taking jobs, while traveling from one city to the next, was a benefit in itself.
“Will we have to come back for payment?”
The man shook his head. “No, I will be giving you a letter and half the payment, my contact at Fitchview will give you the rest of the payment.”
Bregor looked left towards his newest partner in crime, well she mostly committed the crime, while he watched. Abigael looked up, from playing with her ferret, Mr. mugwuggles if he remembered correctly, and nodded.
Bregor turned and smiled, “good we'll take the job.”
The man nodded quickly before pausing. “You should know that I have hired another pair, as these goods are quite expensive. Your payment, however, will not be changed.”
Bregor shrugged. Two extra pair of hands was always good in his opinion.
“When will this pair be arriving.”
“We are already here, friend.” A voice called behind him. The voice held an air of confidence, or arrogance depending on how you listened to it. Bregor turned and careful not to draw his bow, he grew twitchy when people came from behind.
Bregor saw a two tall warriors walking towards them. One of them carried a sword, the other a maul. They didn't seem, sinister, no he felt something else. He felt as if he had met them before but...
Bregor mentally shook himself from his thoughts and nodded towards them.
“Well met, My name is Bregor.” Gesturing towards his elf companion. “This is Abigael.”
The human nodded towards him, in acknowledgement. “My name is Vincent. This is Tudagub. Well, I see no time to waste. Shall we get to know each other while traveling?”
Bregor nodded, and looked towards Neal for final instructions and the goods. Neal held out a small bag. “These are very precious, please do not damage them or you will lose pay from my contact.”
Bregor nodded, taking the bag and strapping it to his bag. “Let us head towards Fitchview than.”
And that was the first time the party was assembled.
This is the End of Part 1.
