Nightly Musing

Snippets of character fiction from a D&D game I'm currently in...

Nightly Musing

by Simon W. 

"It wasn't hard to give up something I wasn't actually using." 

Esme still seethed whenever they remembered the words the other Reborn, Jackson, said. He had signed onto their little rag tag bunch of would be heroes rather recently. He had chosen this existence. The more their band travelled around, the more it seemed that every Reborn aside from Esme and Kerryon had chosen this existence.

In the middle of the night when no one was awake and they were staring into nothing, Esme wondered if on some level they had chosen this existence. It wasn't a comforting thought. Maybe at the moment of death, Esme had been given what seemed like a better offer and had taken it? Esme didn't sleep anymore, and thus didn't dream, but that thought right there is what nightmares are made of. 

Esme remembered the strange trip they had taken to the city of Rhest with Itali and Kerryon some months ago. Itali had been going trying to solve the mystery of her ancestry. Kerryon was there... Esme wasn't sure actually; maybe he'd been trying to gain insights into his new state of being since it was after he'd become a Reborn. Esme had been there to try and find information on Goreshade, the necromancer who made them the way they were but had instead been on what seemed to have been an attempt to woo them.

The Reborn ambassador to Brindle had said something very similar to Jackson. He had chosen to become Reborn. He had been made an offer of immortality and had thought that his soul was a reasonable price to pay since he didn't value it much. He had mentioned that Esme was the only Reborn he'd met that had been particularly religious in life. 

How could anyone think they were not using their soul? The very idea was alien and weird to Esme. And if souls could be bought and sold and traded and used to power spells, then presumably the terrifying celestial being that Esme had bound themselves to knew this. So if Be Not Afraid didn't want Esme's soul, then what did it want?! Was it simply looking for someone to empower it and do it's will?

Esme's druidic training had taught them that nothing happens for no reason at all, not if their was any sort of consciousness involved. So now they had to wonder at Be Not Afraid's motives on top of everything else. They mused that it was probably a good thing they didn't need sleep, given how much there was to try and figure out. 

The Long Dark Night

 Snippets of character fiction from a D&D game I'm currently in...

The Long Dark Night

by Simon W. 

Esme stared into the middle distance while their traveling companions and the town of Haven slumbered around them. Well, all except the bard, but Esme was giving him space. He needed to come to terms with what he had become on his own, just like Esme had.

Esme didn't sleep, so it couldn't be said that they dreamed. But it was a bit less under their full control than thinking was. It was... remembering mostly. 

A lifetime ago, Esme had been Esmerelda Augusto, a druid in one of the sacred groves of the Green Man. It had been a good life. She'd had meaningful work, her family was nearby, and her faith was strong. She watched all of the cycles of the green world turn, over and over, in a dance as old as time. Her favorite cousin (but don't you DARE let him know that) had been selected as the chosen champion of the Green Man and she thought their faith was in good hands. 

It was more than just a good life, it was an excellent life. And then, the undead came. They came in the night and they were different than the normal shuffling zombies and skeletons Esmerelda had encountered before. They could think. They could plan. And they seemed to know exactly how to get into the grove and quickly incapacitate all of the druids there. 

As she was being carried off, trussed up like a chicken for a stewpot, all Esmerelda could think of was that someone had told these monsters how to find the druids.

What happened next is best not remembered, although that didn't stop Esme from doing so. Pain, so much pain. Esme had no idea exactly how long it lasted as eventually time lost any meaning in a sea of agony. But she did pray to the Green Man for release; for death. Eventually she got it and for a brief moment thought the worst was over. 

When Esme next became aware of themselves, they were in what appeared to be a sewer and they were no longer alive in any meaningful sense. Some experimentation proved that they could still move, walk, talk, think, and even feel pain. But there was no heartbeat, no breath, and no answer to their prayers to the Green Man. All of their ability to connect to the magic of the green world was gone. Esme wandered in despair for what seemed like a very long time, alone and angry. 

Unbidden, memories of the pain that had been inflicted upon them would rise along with the face of the being who seemed to be directing it. Pale, pointed ears, and a look of fanaticism upon their face; it was not a sight that Esme would forget any time soon. As they wandered somewhat aimlessly through what appeared to be an extremely ancient sewer, they grew angrier. 

At one point in their wanderings, there appeared a being of.... light? All Esme could see were thousands of eyes and flaming swords. It spoke to them inside their mind. "Be not afraid, for I mean you no harm." Maybe for moments, maybe for days, possibly for years, Esme and this strange being spoke. In the end Esme had brokered a deal. They would get a measure of power and a way out of this sewer; the being would get their soul... as soon as Esme found it.

The Esme who left the city of the undead was not the same as Esmerelda Augusto who had entered it. Esmerelda was a druid; Esme was a warlock. Esmerelda was contented with her life and wished only to serve a higher purpose; Esme's primary purpose now was twofold, find their soul to wrest it back from he who had stolen it and bring vengeance upon the person who was responsible for their not being properly dead. Esmerelda had faith; Esme was unsure if the Gods cared about people at all. 

When Esme did finally leave the city of the undead and found human habitation again, they were nearly halfway across the world from where they had started. And the first person they ran into was their cousin, Salazar. He had found himself on a quest to fight against the same person that Esme now bent all their will to destroy. It seemed like a very easy alliance to fall into.

Now, months later, Esme found themselves thinking of all of this while most of their companions slept. They were not sure what the future held. They were not really sure of much of anything at this point.