Brutish Lust

n the early morning hours, Syla crept from her bed. Among her elf-kin around her not one stirred, and though she knew that her footfalls would wake none, still softly did she tread. The tribe that she was staying with currently was a migratory one and, though she was not one of them, she knew that they would judge her for her actions that morn should they discover her motives.

The Witch of South Cali

On a clouded, windy night, down a dingy backstreet in the City of San Francisco, a lone woman strode boldly and alone. Her low-heeled steps, emitted by knee-highs, crunching audibly upon loose gravel and discarded needles. The sounds magnified against the looming brick walls on either side. Rats, roaches, and other such vermin scurried from her path and those cast-off peoples who dwelled there on the ever-shrinking fringes of society shrunk away, covering their faces so as not to catch her eye.

Chapter One: The Ranger Apprentice

Wet foliage slapping at her face, the young, half-elvan ranger dives through the underbrush near the western eaves of the Wood of Sharp Teeth. She is in her element, lithe and quick. She knows the terrain and how to maneuver in it. She does not get caught on stray branches, or tripped by fallen debris. Her woodland cloak whips behind her, shadowing her every move as if it has a mind of its own. Her tight leather armor hugs her closely, accentuating every dip and curve of her well formed fisique. Her name is Lystra Silverdragon and this is the start of her tale.

Chapter 4: The Friendly Arm Inn

Wheeling Sundril about in the keep’s courtyard, Jaryn tore out through the gates and down the high avenue. It was nearing dusk and he knew he had a hard nights ride ahead of him if he were to reach the Friendly Arm Inn, a waystation along the Coastway, a normal two days ride to the south, in time to hopefully intercept Lystra. If she were to perceive of trouble before he reached her, she may abandon his orders to make for the city and make her way to Beregost instead. It would also behoove him to get into contact with the High Druid Blacktree once more and, luckily, there was a way for him to do so much close at hand.

Chapter 5: On the Word of a Storm Crow

While the rest of the Sword Coast weathered the steady drizzle, a much harsher storm head had descended on the town of Beregost. Rain fell in driving sheets upon the slate roofs of the cluster of buildings that made up the town’s center, as well as those of thatch of the numerous farmsteads dotting the landscape around. The only souls who stood outdoors were those poor Flaming Fist guardsmen unlucky enough to pull guard duty. All of the townsfolk had retreated to the safety of their homes, or else to the welcoming warmth of the Burning Wizard Inn