An irritable Cleric

edited August 2020 in Role Playing
As Breigje stood at the water’s edge, she contemplated whether to put the bottle in an area she had calculated to drift it toward Andris or just let the winds press their will on it. Beta could be wandering anywhere and she could sniff out a bottle from the bowels of the volcano if need be.
Breigje frowned. Perhaps, she should have a talk with her about that, “ Another time.”, she thought.
Breigje shrugged and tossed the bottle into the air as the evening light began to fade over the thick woods beyond the thin shoreline. The bottle landed in the softly moving waves, the scrolled letter encased in glass that still carried the slightest hint of fine Foehan Vodka and protected by the enchanted purple crystal pushed into the bottle opening and offering not only a seal for the contents within but a small shimmering violet beacon for any passerby.
Breigje stumbled briefly as she turned from the shore, the overlong hem of her robe decorating itself with saltwater and sand. “ Damn! I must learn to tailor these robes myself as their current makers seem to believe all mages to be tall!”
The letter within the bottle:
Dear Beta,
Have there been strange occurrences recently in Andris ? Or on the seas? Or near whatever pile of rocks you are currently visiting?
I recently was with an unusually large group of our fellow travelers near the place that once we called Void Gate. There was a positively unreasonable amount of cursed bracken there and a new growth of rather unhealthy trees that seemed to be encompassing an area of tight quarters and multiple dangers.
Phase serpents, Beta! Nasty phase serpents just slithering everywhere. Down near the edge of the area some stranger was shouting at us. I gathered that we had interrupted some sort of memorial? I felt momentarily sad and thought perhaps we were going to calm down and keep a respectful distance out of reverence or decency or some other antiquated notion. We just killed the guy. So, I don’t really know what that was all about. Some note was found. I even read it but I remember nothing as I was distracted by the sight of more volcing phase serpents!
We somehow entered that cave with the beautiful bluebirds who will gladly blind you and leave you stumbling into trees. I wanted to check for the straggling and injured phase serpent still above ground as he was worryingly close to Foehan but no one seemed to care about Foehan and honestly if he made it there , he would likely just be inducted into the Gambler’s Guild anyway. He’s likely there right now, drunk in one of the underground taverns, planning to show up at the next festival.
I digress.
The cave is the sort favored by dungeon lovers. Dark, smelly, damp, and crowded. The battle was of the type we well know. Shouting, crying, stabbing, dying. The smells of blood and sweat and damp walls and animal droppings and maybe a bit of vomit. We all made it out in the end. We had a bit of treasure and more than our share of wounds. I wanted to ask what was going on but everyone was all happy and proud so I just shut up.
A few days later, on day whatever because I forget to look at my calendar if the moon is one I only enjoy for its beauty, I was sailing towards Center Isle as I thought I heard a commotion.
I ran into several friends who were happily discussing a battle I had missed, when suddenly a couple of brigands swam right over to us. We made short work of them. I personally just stared in shock and tossed a tiny amount of ginseng. They seemed to be alone and left only lotus petals floating in their wake. So, I wandered over to question the guards at a local hall. They had nothing to say. I think they thought me crazy.
When I returned to the river my friends were gone and I still don’t know what the hell was going on. I do know that the hem of my gown trailed off the back of my raft and was absolutely soaking. Again. I said some words that would have had PaPa Cerr put that slimy snail oil soap in my mouth.
Anyway, I hope you are well. And sober. And not too sober.
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