This an attempt at a D&D inspired action adventure story. I hope you all have good comments and enjoy it.
‘Are we there yet?’
The often-heard question shook Jor out of his contemplations. He stopped walking and sighed deeply before turning to face the inquiring eyes of Nostra. ‘The path of a Wanderer never actually reaches its destination, only the journey matters. For only during one’s journey can one receive the guidance of the Spirit.’
Nostra rolled her eyes up at him, but with a cheeky smile on her face. ‘That’s all very wise and all. But I very much like to be where I’m supposed to be at some point in our lives. There is too much dust on these country roads. It gets everywhere. Ura has to wash herself everyday just to keep her fur nice and shiny.’ She said pointing to her looming Minioth companion.
With her hands on her hips, head cocked to the side and having to look up to meet his gaze, she was the image of teenage self-importance. Which, Jor knew, meant it all could come crashing down at any moment. Still, the delusions of the young were nothing to be scoffed at, for it hid resilience and an openness that allowed them to overcome almost every hardship. However, ‘you two found me in Amon Din and demanded that I take you with me on my journey south. A Wanderer mostly travels alone.’
Nostra frowned at him. ‘Where is the fun in that, old man. Our master told us to find you. He told us you had made an arrangement with him and that we had to keep an eye on you at all time as part of the deal.’
Jor smiled at the two young ladies in front of him. It was true the Spirit had led his feet to Amon Din and he believed that there at the pyramids of the seven Watchers he might finally find clues to the items he sought. Instead he was found himself by a dark-haired, brown-skinned fifteen-year-old girl and a lumbering seven-foot tall young Minioth girl that had come across the ocean from Calmanar. The Spirit always worked in mysterious ways, but he still had no idea how that old smuggler Uliak had known where to find him.
There was definitely more to these two than met the eye. He suddenly realised something that had been bugging him in the back of his mind. He looked Nostra over with a bemused eye. She appeared to be dressed in a form-fitting red velvet, sleeveless vest, over tight dark green trousers that ended half-way down her calves and brown leather, pointed, ankle-length boots with platform heels, which looked to be far more form than function. ‘What in Mela’s name are you wearing?’
Nostra shrugged, ‘my own creation. Do you like it? I like it.’ She turned to Ura and did a twirl for the taciturn Minioth.
Jor saw the bigger girl blink twice and focus hard on the spinning form of her younger friend, before she slowly nodded. ‘It looks very nice, Nos. Did you wear those same clothes earlier today?’
‘Well, of course I did, Ura. I’m not constantly changing, you know. Where would I even find the time, with all the walking we are doing constantly.’
The Minioth nodded again, still admiring Nostra’s dashing outfit that she had seemingly never seen before that moment.
Jor shook his head, disapprovingly. ‘Change it now Nostra. We’re not exactly in high society out here. You stick out like a sore thumb. Normal traveller’s garb in sepia tones would be much more becoming a weary group of wanderers like us, here in the south.’
‘I’m not a Wanderer like you. I don’t follow the Path of the Spirit. My feet are only guided by me. Besides, I’m rarely noticed by people that I don’t want to have noticing me.’ Nostra waved her right hand in front of her vest and suddenly it was covered in the finest golden filigree. Not unbefitting Avarian nobility.
Jor gave her a stern look. ‘Of course, the Spirit can always guide my feet the long way to our destination, for what is a good journey without a couple detours on the way.’
Nostra’s eyes grew larger for an instance, before settling into a pose of outward nonchalance. ‘If you prefer me walking about as boringly as you, of course I will oblige, venerable guide. It’s just that I thought we could all do with some entertainment and where else are we going to get it than from me,’ she smiled. At that moment her form shimmered in dark shadows and all her fine attire changed into a sand coloured djellaba. Hunching slightly forward she made a show of trudging past him.
Jor shook his head, and winked at Ura who seemed a little perplexed by the whole exchange. ‘Myria is actually not very far from here. In a couple of days we will be where we need to be.’ The words brightened the Minioth girl up immediately and she sprinted forward to tell her friend the good news.
Yes, that old smuggler Uliak had a funny way of keeping to his end of the bargain, indeed. His two charges on this journey were to be his guards, his aides in finding what he had been looking for all of his life. Admittedly, the two of them were very talented, but so young…
‘Are we there yet?’
The often-heard question shook Jor out of his contemplations. He stopped walking and sighed deeply before turning to face the inquiring eyes of Nostra. ‘The path of a Wanderer never actually reaches its destination, only the journey matters. For only during one’s journey can one receive the guidance of the Spirit.’
Nostra rolled her eyes up at him, but with a cheeky smile on her face. ‘That’s all very wise and all. But I very much like to be where I’m supposed to be at some point in our lives. There is too much dust on these country roads. It gets everywhere. Ura has to wash herself everyday just to keep her fur nice and shiny.’ She said pointing to her looming Minioth companion.
With her hands on her hips, head cocked to the side and having to look up to meet his gaze, she was the image of teenage self-importance. Which, Jor knew, meant it all could come crashing down at any moment. Still, the delusions of the young were nothing to be scoffed at, for it hid resilience and an openness that allowed them to overcome almost every hardship. However, ‘you two found me in Amon Din and demanded that I take you with me on my journey south. A Wanderer mostly travels alone.’
Nostra frowned at him. ‘Where is the fun in that, old man. Our master told us to find you. He told us you had made an arrangement with him and that we had to keep an eye on you at all time as part of the deal.’
Jor smiled at the two young ladies in front of him. It was true the Spirit had led his feet to Amon Din and he believed that there at the pyramids of the seven Watchers he might finally find clues to the items he sought. Instead he was found himself by a dark-haired, brown-skinned fifteen-year-old girl and a lumbering seven-foot tall young Minioth girl that had come across the ocean from Calmanar. The Spirit always worked in mysterious ways, but he still had no idea how that old smuggler Uliak had known where to find him.
There was definitely more to these two than met the eye. He suddenly realised something that had been bugging him in the back of his mind. He looked Nostra over with a bemused eye. She appeared to be dressed in a form-fitting red velvet, sleeveless vest, over tight dark green trousers that ended half-way down her calves and brown leather, pointed, ankle-length boots with platform heels, which looked to be far more form than function. ‘What in Mela’s name are you wearing?’
Nostra shrugged, ‘my own creation. Do you like it? I like it.’ She turned to Ura and did a twirl for the taciturn Minioth.
Jor saw the bigger girl blink twice and focus hard on the spinning form of her younger friend, before she slowly nodded. ‘It looks very nice, Nos. Did you wear those same clothes earlier today?’
‘Well, of course I did, Ura. I’m not constantly changing, you know. Where would I even find the time, with all the walking we are doing constantly.’
The Minioth nodded again, still admiring Nostra’s dashing outfit that she had seemingly never seen before that moment.
Jor shook his head, disapprovingly. ‘Change it now Nostra. We’re not exactly in high society out here. You stick out like a sore thumb. Normal traveller’s garb in sepia tones would be much more becoming a weary group of wanderers like us, here in the south.’
‘I’m not a Wanderer like you. I don’t follow the Path of the Spirit. My feet are only guided by me. Besides, I’m rarely noticed by people that I don’t want to have noticing me.’ Nostra waved her right hand in front of her vest and suddenly it was covered in the finest golden filigree. Not unbefitting Avarian nobility.
Jor gave her a stern look. ‘Of course, the Spirit can always guide my feet the long way to our destination, for what is a good journey without a couple detours on the way.’
Nostra’s eyes grew larger for an instance, before settling into a pose of outward nonchalance. ‘If you prefer me walking about as boringly as you, of course I will oblige, venerable guide. It’s just that I thought we could all do with some entertainment and where else are we going to get it than from me,’ she smiled. At that moment her form shimmered in dark shadows and all her fine attire changed into a sand coloured djellaba. Hunching slightly forward she made a show of trudging past him.
Jor shook his head, and winked at Ura who seemed a little perplexed by the whole exchange. ‘Myria is actually not very far from here. In a couple of days we will be where we need to be.’ The words brightened the Minioth girl up immediately and she sprinted forward to tell her friend the good news.
Yes, that old smuggler Uliak had a funny way of keeping to his end of the bargain, indeed. His two charges on this journey were to be his guards, his aides in finding what he had been looking for all of his life. Admittedly, the two of them were very talented, but so young…