//------------------------------//
// (18) Onward to Town 
// Story: Canterlot High's D&D Club 
// by 4428Gamer 
//------------------------------//


Thorn Wielder's POV
Former War Room
The Next Morning




After everyone passed out small metal pieces, the yelling was done. Everyone became calm and the Dwarf, Glemerr, and the robed human set themselves around a barrel to try drinking this alcohol as fast as they could while everyone cheered them on.

But halfway through the contest, I had to catch the human in my vines before she collapsed and reopened her wound. She must have been tired.

From then on, we enjoyed the night in peace. The gnome played music with the curvy piece of wood he carries while everyone took the time to drink more alcohol and relax. I let myself drink from the alcohol too after Glemerr asked. It felt...warm. I liked the warm.

I may have liked the warm too much. Because the last thing I recall drinking more alcohol...and then nothing.

With elves, we don't sleep. We go into what others call a 'trace.' It was like deep meditation but when we did it we almost left our bodies to fall deeper into our minds. We can come back whenever we want, usually if there's some sort of loud noise or if something important happens. I couldn't this time though.

I've never had alcohol before. It did not come from my forest. The stream was always water and the fruits only offered juice. I did hear of passing travelers talk about alcohol as I watched them pass. They spoke of how it made their worries leave.

And it did! When it was warm, everything was nicer. The stories others talked about were more exciting and the food tasted better. And I somehow fell into my trance despite the sound of the gnome's curvy wood noises. I don't even remember going into a trance last night.

But now? As I opened my eyes, I realized some things. I was face-first on the floor, I tasted nothing but this terrible...taste, and my head hurt. A lot.

"Urgelemonminnow..." That was all I could say. I don't know if that meant anything and I don't know what language that was. It took all I had to turn my head up from the floor and...

"Ahaahhhhh," I groaned as I tried to cover my eyes. The fire. It was so bright! Is the cave on fire? Can rocks be on fire? The bright hurts!

"Ah, look who's up," A voice. A loud voice said happily. "Sleep well Miss Thorn?"

"Suh. Slee-ee-eep?" I closed my eyes and curled up around my frog. Oh right. Frog. I have frog. Yay. "Elf. N-No sleep."

The gnome rose his shoulders only to lower them again. "Coulda fooled me. You've been face down on the ground fer over ten hours. 'Fore she passed out, Lady Rava kept checkin' on ya ta make sure ya weren't dead since ya don't snore. Also yer, erm...vines? They unraveled."

Huh? My vines?

I turned my head and brought forward my right arm which felt as though dragging a dead body. When I finally pulled it up to where I could see, all that was there was my arm.

My arm? Where's my...

I sat up in a jolt, clutching my head as it pounded like a drum. Once the instinct wore off, I glanced at my arm again before my panic and fear left. The vines were still attached. The gnome, the human male with knives, and the Dwarf gave me worried looks. They were the only ones awake inside this room.

The injured human male was still in the chair but unconscious, as was the human female in robes in her bedroll. The elf huntress and Glemerr weren't here right now.

"Thorn?" The Dwarf asked. "Them vines...Are they. Suppose' ta do tha'?"

I gave her in odd look then looked back to my right arm. Where the arm bent was a vein. That's where the prime vine grew out from my body. From there, I wrapped my vines around the outside of my arm until I needed them. I didn't need to focus to keep the vines bound. It was like keeping one's mouth closed; you don't need to think about it.




The entire group, plus Big Mac who had come back from not hiding from a pizza argument, all looked at Fluttershy with confusion and a general disbelief of what they were hearing.

Gilda was instead grinning like a mad woman. "Can I sit in on all a' these?!"

"Fluttershy?" Applejack gave her a long look. "...Why?! Why would ya make this?"

"So that she always has a piece of her forest wherever she goes." Fluttershy smiled innocently, seemingly unaware of the dark undertones.

"...Pffft!" Pinkie suddenly cracked, falling apart into a fit of giggles. "Oh! I get it! Veins? Vines? Vein Vines!"

"Vein Vines?!" Mac and Gilda said in unison, locking eyes before staring at Story.

"Story!" Gilda shouted, suddenly anxious. "Is that anything like the purple vines from the—" "Stop," Story demanded, holding a hand up to the basketball player.

"None of that," he said strictly and with an expression that told nothing. "You two have your campaign, the girls have theirs. No fraternizing on that," he instructed.

"Can you at least tell us who came up with the vine thing?" Rainbow asked him.

"Are you kidding?!" Pinkie's beamed. "Not knowing makes it so much more fun! Keep it a secret, keep it a secret!"

"Yes, please," Rarity said after a moment. "I'm not quite sure if I'm prepared for the answer myself." As she said that, Rainbow and Applejack both got a chill down their spine and switched gears to agree the secret stay that way.

And Fluttershy was perfectly fine with that.




Huh. When did they unravel?

I let my head go and began rewrapping vines. Or at least tried to. My vines felt sluggish and heavy and they didn't move as easily. They felt like deadweight although I could still feel the life in them.

After probably a minute they were in place, even if they did sag a bit. When my vines were wrapped back, I sat back and held my other hand to help will the pounding in my head to go away. It didn't help.

"...Cortás Scorch," I said aloud, making the Dwarf, gnome, and human male pause. Then I pointed at the human with my thorned arm. It took some effort with the vine's new weight. "You. You talk Scorch. Yesterday."

"I did," he admitted. I had heard him talk to the elf in the hood about it. He knew me. "What of it?"

"'Small town.' Acrine no small." I brought myself to my feet, picking up my scythe that was lying away from me. My frog I would get before we left. "Acrine big. Was big."

"I know the forest that got torched is called Scorched Acrine now," he told me. "The name was changed after the fire."

I nodded.

"Do ya know what caused it?" the Dwarf asked. "Legends of the 'Thorn Wielder' come from that forest. Back when it was lush an' green. We right ta assume yer that Thorn Wielder?"

I nodded again. "I Thorn Wielder. I...No know. Fire all. Ground. Trees. Sky. All fire."

"So you've no clue eitha'," the gnome realized with a frown. "Shame. Plenty a' folk wanna know that legend."

"Here's what I want to know," the human told me. "The Thorn Wielder's an old story. Over a hundred years old. That story reached Leodaav by chance because of scout sightings from the war."

Another nod. "They no harm forest. I no hunt." All three of them stared back, considering my words carefully. "They...offer."

"Offer? What you mean offer?" The gnome asked. Rather than speak, I held out my scythe.

"Offer shrine. I keep." I went to sheathe my scythe behind my back, watching them all look to the human.

"Platick? That story ya 'eard," the Dwarf said. "There ever a scythe in it?"

He shook his head. "No. The story goes that behind the Drakehead mountains is a forest free of perversion. The people of Leodaav called it the Verdant Hoard as though the Drakehead guarded it from them. That was before the Cortás Scorch though. Now it's called Scorched Acrine by everyone. But, while it was tended by the Cortássian Druids, it was protected by a lady of thorns: Thorn Wielder."

I scoffed, regaining their attention. Tended by druids? What druids? Where were druids when MY forest burned?

"Every tale has another side, it would seem," the gnome noted from my scowl.

"The stories change what Thorn Wielder was," the human went on. "A lot of them say it was an archdruid while the more fantastical stories called her a dryad or pixie. Some even called her a demi-goddess since they made offerings to her shrine." A warmth spread across my face out of nowhere. Huh. Is alcohol back?

"Then again, they would speak of the way bodies would be found mutilated in the trees. That Thorn Wielder would hunt any who harmed her forest without care. She would also adorn herself with their clothing after they bled out from the thorns. Those stories end with calling her a hag or a demon. The more superstitious leave it at vengeful spirit."

Hag? More thorns grew from my vines as those words did away with that warmth in my face. I no hag. I only punished those who harm forest...And I need clothes. Bleeding part true though.

"But in every tale there's one key fact. Thorn Wielder used the forest to fight. She'd call upon wolves, carnivorous plants, the ground opened and swallowed people alive, and she'd strangle and hang people with vines especially. There was even one part about the trees coming to life."

The gnome and Dwarf again watched me but I only looked confused. Trees already alive. What that mean?

"But she never brandished a weapon."

"Ah've heard some a' them stories," the Dwarf admitted. "Shrine especially. Apparently those passin' through the forest left offerin's ta appease the protector. Even brought their own firewood from outside a' the forest ta keep from choppin' at trees."

"And yet a legend like that had trouble takin' out trash in this wood? Why?" The gnome gave me a skeptic look that made me stare at the ground.

"Weak," I responded. "I weak. Forest gone." I held out my arm, moving the sagging vines so they could again see where they met my veins. "Forest make offer. Life."

"Life?" The Dwarf blinked. "Ya mean...A forest offered ya its life? That what yer sayin'?"

One more nod as I tightened the vines up. "Vine is forest."

The human rubbed his chin. "That might explain it. It's been twenty years and they say all of Scorched Acrine hasn't grown anything except tufts of grass. I won't pretend I know magic but the fact nothing's grown back on all that land? It's unnatural."

"I'll say," the gnome agreed. "Alright. Assumin' that's all true, why are you here, Miss Thorn? Cortás don't take kindly ta outsiders. Elves there don't fancy leavin' their kingdom neitha."

"Cortás? No." I shook my head. "Home forest. Not Cortás."

"Ah'm gonna take a swing an' say she don't care much fer politics." The Dwarf chuckled softly. "Sounds like a good friend fer you, ya grump."

The human grunted. "Don't hold your breath. She may not be lying but that doesn't mean we work together. She might go off on her own once we leave this cave."

I thought about that. Before the goblins. There was no strong reason to stay. There still isn't. The only reason I came is because I met the Dwarf that hired us outside that town we left from.

Come to think of it, he was attacked then too. Not by goblins but bandits. I hunted them because they killed a pack of wolves while waiting to ambush the Dwarf. They didn't even have the curtesy to use the remains. Hunters have a reason; they hunt for meat or hide. They don't let death go to waste. Those bandits? They let the wolves parish for nothing.

Right. The wolf.

I tried to ignore my head and stood, pushing my feet one in front of the other into the chamber where we fought the leader of the goblins. The bugbear was tied elsewhere and the bodies were carried outside. But left in the cave was the body of the wolf that had attacked us.

When he tried to bite into me I knew right away; the wolf was diseased. He may have seemed active and dangerous but he was in great pain and had been so for some time. Probably from how the bugbear treated him or whatever diseased meat he was fed.

I covered the wolf's body in frost last night so that he would not rot as quickly while we rested. That frost melted now, leaving the body in a small pile of water.

He needs rest, I determined. Not in cave. Especially not cave where torture was. I moved my arm forward to bring forth the vines, only to watch as they fell off my arm and onto the ground with a dull splat.

Right. Heavy vines. I frowned and started rewrapping them again. There were no plants in this cave either. I couldn't use them here.

"Need some help?"

I clutched my head as if my fingers were going to bury through my skull. In this room, voices echoed off the walls. The Dwarf's metal armored made loud noises now too. Too loud! Why?

I turned to see the Dwarf give me a look before she suddenly grinned heartedly. "Oof. Looks like a monster of a hangover," she said with a laugh. "Last night yer first time with a pint? Poor lass."

"P-Pint?" I blinked. My eyes hurt too. "What pint? What hangover?"

"Ah meant the ale. Alcohol," she told me, speaking softly to be less loud. "When ye drink as much as ye did, ye get a hangover. Lemme guess. Everythin's loud an' bright, ya got a bad taste in yer mouth and yer head's buzzin' like a beetle?"

I nodded frantically. Ow. Hangover. So alcohol does this?

"It's prob'ly why yer thorns are all soggy too. Don't worry, it'll pass. Just takes time. An' you'll be all the better fer it next time ya drink."

"Drink? No." I shook my head. If alcohol do this, I never drink again...

But the Dwarf just laughed. "We'll see lass. So." She pointed at the wolf. "Want me ta get the fella for ya?"

I took a deep breath and thought about it. If plants no help...Oh, wait. I shook my head again. "No. I lift. Need breathe."

"Breathe?" She raised an eyebrow. "What ya mean breathe?"

"Breathe."

I backed away from the Dwarf and took a wide stance. Then I took a few small breaths. In. Out. In. Out. In. Out. When I felt ready, I began to picture it. Like he had taught me.

Once the image was clear I took a deep breath, letting my lungs fill as much as they could and held it. Until they were ready to burst. Then, while I held that breath, I took another deep breath.

My torso began to double, triple, quadruple in size as curved horns grew from my skull. Auburn fur spilled out as I let myself fall forward, slammed my fists into the ground with so much weight, the rocks cracked. The Dwarf nearly fell over.

She and the others watched in shock as my body shifting in a hundred different ways in moments while I kept holding that breath; using it to fuel every change. When all was done, I turned to face the Dwarf, my face now at eye level with her as I stood on four legs.

"Are...A-Are you a," she stammered. "Yer. Y-Ye-Yer a...Huh?!"

My reply was a loud bellow that echoed against the walls.






Vareén
Outside the Cave
Meanwhile





I wasn't too much of a drinker myself. Alcohol made people sloppy, and I didn't trust myself to drink around others. So when the morning hit, I was awake first and knew the rest of the group weren't going to be ready until later.

That was fine. It gave me a chance to practice something.

I glanced around me. I was standing in the center of the blind those goblin lookouts lounged in yesterday. I had ripped armor scraps off their bodies and hung them, spaced apart, from the trees like practice dummies. After my blunder in the cave, I needed practice. But not with my bow. I left it set against the rocks behind me.

Now, I had my hatchet clutched in my hands and was sweating buckets onto the grass beneath me. For last two hours I had been trying to get this one ridiculous technique to work. One that my mentor had tried to teach me.

'It's not something you think about,' I remembered her telling me. 'You set your sights. You say the word. You GO.'

It was insane how she did it. More insane that the others understood. It came so naturally for them. She said 'do' and they did. I tried but I always held back. What if it went wrong? How would you correct it if you didn't think about it?

With an arrow you could miss or perhaps snap the bowstring. Fine. Reposition, restring, and fire again. But with this? There was no correcting it. It worked or you crashed.

I tightened my stance and readied myself. Focus. Focus, I told myself. I recited the word in Draconic a few times before I was ready.

"...Temep!"

Every blood cell erupted like fire, forcing my body beyond adrenaline. By the time I blinked, I already cleared ten feet and barely had enough time to tag the first dummy.

I turned to face the second but my body moved on its own. I couldn't raise my axe in time so I was forced to headbutt it.

The third attack went worse. I couldn't turn my head in time and my body flew off course into the thicket. Every spiked branch dug into my face and arms. I screamed in anger— or pain, I couldn't tell anymore —and punched the ground.

Thanks to the magic, my fist embedded itself a few inches into the ground. All the force nearly broke my wrist but at least the energy left my body.

Growling to myself, I pried my face out before a large hand grabbed me by the collar and hoisted me out. I let out a scream that was a little too high pitched.

"Oop! Sorry d'ere!" Glemerr tried to set me down gently before I shoved her hand off of me and landed on my own two feet. Only for her to grab my arm as my knees started to give out under me. "Ya okay? You've been shoutin' awhile."

"I'm fine!" I tore my arm free and tried to get my balance.

"Uh-huh. If ya say so," she said with a snicker. Then she eyed me a little closer. "Say, yer hoods down."

Every joint in my body tensed up. Crap! I tried fumbling for it but my fingers weren't cooperating either. They, like my legs, were terribly numb.

"Ya know, ya don't need ta hide any a' dat. Ya look pretty," she tried to compliment me. "Ah kinda thought you'd 'ave orange hair like Thorn. But black hair looks nice too."

I finally got my hood back on and stared at the ground. "What are you doing out here?"

"Jus' trainin." She shrugged. "I'm tryin' ta get dis one trick right, yea? Ya see, me Uncle Mord talked about 'ow he did it an' Ah've been punchin' trees ta get it just right! Which is much better than punchin' stone like Ah did back on de streets an'—" "Stop."

I held a hand out at her face and she obeyed. "Training. All you had to say."

"Well, maybe, sure, but." She shuffled a bit. "It looked like you were doin' the same thing, righ'? Practicin' a trick?"

"So you were actually watching me." I glared.

"This last time Ah was. Ya kept on screamin' that same word, tempest err whateva, so Ah thought Ah'd come watch! Then Ah saw ya eat dirt."

"Leave," I told her. "I don't want you here."

I turned around to look for my axe. I dropped it after the first swing and I needed to retighten the knots on the second dummy before it fell off the branch.

"You were too stiff~" Glemerr sang under her breath.

"I said leave," I repeated, holding my hatchet in my hand. But Glemerr didn't obey me that time.

"...What was dat trick you were tryin'?" She went on, making my fists shake. "In case ya didn' know, Ah'm kinda amazin' at fightin' close quarters. Ah could give ya some point-ahhhhs~"

I groaned. All this moving had me too drained to chew her out. "If I tell you, will you leave?"

"Nope." A blunt denial. "But Ah will get off ya back a tad."

Ugh. Worth it, I thought. "It's called Zephyr Strike. Magic. You got any 'pointers' for that?"

"Ah thought you were an archer?"

"I am." I folded my arms. "Used to think that was enough. But after seeing Ricven and the other magic types hold their own I...got second thoughts," I told her. "Figured I'd try what someone taught me."

Glemerr took in a deep gasp and grinned. "Ya mean like a teacha?! Ah got a teacha! We're the same!"

"No. No, we are not," I snapped. "You're wild and uncontrolled. I'm the opposite."

"Ya sure 'bout dat?" She set her fists on her hips. "'Cause that Strike move ya tried? Dat was pretty wreckless! And dat's comin' from me."

"That's not how the spell's supposed to go." I frowned deeper. "It's supposed to make you move quicker. With alacrity and grace. You don't even know what that is."

"That righ'?" She reached for her belt and drew a small club, holding it at me. "Tell ya what. You land one solid hit on me wit' dis, Ah won't say a word 'til we reach town. Total silence."

I looked her in the eyes as she returned this smug grin on her face. "No you won't."

"Nah, Ah swear it," she assured, pushing the club into my hands. Then she unrolled some of the bandages on her arm and started tying her wrists together in some advanced knot. "Ah'll even make it fair for ya! Ah won't use me 'ands. Seven swings sound good enough?"




Twilight stared cautiously at Pinkie who sat there with her jaw nestled in her hands as she leaned on the table.

"Are...Are we fighting?" Twilight blinked.

"Nope," Pinkie said in her gruff Glemerr voice. Like Rarity, she was keeping the accent all night for Dash. "You're fightin'! Well, tryin' to! Ya ain't gonna hit me dough."

Twilight narrowed her eyes and slowly drew up her die, taking the bait. "Okay..."

Pinkie glanced over at Story. "Dodgin'," she told him.

He shrugged. "Alright. Twilight? Every attack's disadvantage," he told her as Twilight quickly understood how this would probably end.




The club itself was a belaying pin made of polished wood. It had a few nicks and scratches but was otherwise in a perfect condition. Glemerr never used it yesterday but it was always on her belt. It fit pretty well in my hand though. Well enough to knock Glemerr down a peg.

But my first swing Glemerr simply sidestepped, lightly shoving me back with her forearms. Eager to use that to my advantage. I spun to swing down on her wrist but she twirled in place. Not only did I miss but she came back and shoved me with the momentum behind her elbow.

Glemerr chuckled as I struggled to keep my balance which just made me mad. So I tried lunging for her. She went low. Before I could even bring the club over her head, she ducked down and connected her shoulder to my thighs, flipping me in the air as she walked past. I landed on my back and had the breath knocked out of me.

"What was dat you were sayin'? Alacrity an' grace? Ah don' know 'bout you, but Glemerr dinks she knows which of us knows more 'bout gracefulness. Hehehe..."

I growled and tightened my grip on the club. "I thought you said you were making this fair."

"Ah am." She grinned wider. "'Aven't used me 'ands once. Said nothin' 'bout usin' everythin' else dough."

"Okay. Screw it," I told her. "Now I'm just hitting you."

"Dat's more like it! Too bad ya can't."

I rushed at her again. Deciding a direct approach was a waste, I swung for her shins only for her to jump up and over me with a "Weee!" before landing on the opposite side.

She spun to face me and sucked air before limboing underneath the club after I chucked it through the air. "Hey! What was da—"

I didn't give her the chance. I came at her again and tried for a punch. It was stupid, I know, but in the moment I thought I had her off guard. Instead, she pivoted to the left and let me run past her before I scrambled to keep my balance for the second time.

"Almost 'ad me! Got one swing left," she reminded me with a smile.

I took a few breaths and glanced down at the club now at my feet. Then back to Glemerr. This...This isn't working.

"Well? Come on," She encouraged. "Dat was a nice try!"

I bent down and picked up the club. I decided to inspect it and in the process found a small stamp on the pommel. It was some symbol of a raft on the water.

I let my shoulders slump and walked up to Glemerr. She eyed me for a moment and furrowed her brow before readying herself as I brought the club up.

Only for me to drop it on the ground. "Whoops. Missed again," I said with no emotion.

She smirked for a second and pulled her hands apart slowly, letting the bandages slip apart as though they had never been tied. Fake knot, I realized. She really was screwing with me.

"Yer too choreographed," she told me before bending down to pick up the club. She dusted off the grass and slid it back in a belt loop. "Every swing ya had? Saw it comin' a mile away. 'Cept fer da throw. Dat was cleva'. Guess wit' shootin' arrows, ya don't gotta worry 'bout bein' all predictable. But wit' comes ta close quarters? Ya can't think too 'ard. Gotta let the body guide ya, ya know?"

'It's not something you think about.' My mentor's words came to me again. 'You set your sights. You say the word. And you GO.'

"People keep telling me that." I crossed my arms. "But that spell's not about attacking. It's about moving."

"Weavin' an' duckin' yeah?" She gave me a toothy grin. "Ya mean like Ah was doin' when ya kept eatin' dirt?"

"I didn't eat dirt...Constantly." I rolled my eyes. "How was I supposed to predict you flipping me?"

"Ah saw ya shift yer foot at the last second. Dem's yer instincts," she told me. "Dose are supposed ta help ya. Ya don't fight 'em. Otherwise ya eat dirt."

I huffed. "Okay, I ate dirt. How do you propose I not eat dirt?"

"Well, ya came ta da right person." She planted her dinner plate hands on my shoulders, making me regret this already.

"Stop touching me."

"Oi! Oi Vareén! Glemerr! Ya out there?!"

"Oh! Dat's Rava," Glemerr announced as if I didn't know. But it made her let go of me before running to the cave entrance, so that was something. "Yeah Rava?! What'cha nee...Horn donkey?"

I processed that word for a second before walking over myself to see...What?

We backed up as a large ox with auburn fur and a mass of vines on its front leg was led by Ravathyra as the dead wolf from yesterday was carried atop its back. What was weirder is that the oxen stopped to stare at us with this awareness. It's eyes were also bright emerald in color.

Glemerr leaned down towards me as neither of us dared look away. "Vareén, yer learnin' magic right? Is dis magic?"

"I...I think so?" My voice sounded nowhere near certain but Glemerr nodded anyway.

The ox snorted a heavy breath at us before it started walking past Ravathyra and deep into the forest as we all stared. 

"...Well," Ravathyra said with a clap, recovering her perky attitude. "Not ta worry! She'll be back before we shove off! But as she's doin' tha', um, would the two of ya be so kind as ta help us start loadin' the supplies? Oh! An' Ricven an' Stostine will be interrogatin' the bugbear as we do it. We still gotta get some info on this 'King Grol' fella!"

"I'm sorry, you said coming back?" I eyed her suspiciously. "What do you mean it's coming back? What was that?"

"A horn donkey, obviously," Glemerr answered, earning a swift glare. "But how'd it get in da cave? Did the gobbos steal her too?"

Ravathyra opened her mouth but shut it just as quickly. "Ye know? Ah think it'll be less confusin' if ya wait ta ask her yerself. Till then, let's hurry. It's climbin' towards noon and we've still a trek ta go till town."

The Dwarf turned on her heel, purposefully leaving us widely confused until we had no choice but to trudge in behind her blankly. I would've prayed that the day wouldn't get weirder but I knew the answer to that already.





Stostine's POV
Former Wolf Den
One Hour Later






There's a simple spell called Prestidigitation. It has a myriad of uses but I only needed to use it twice since waking up to that stupid cow's cry. The first time was to clean up the robes from all the bloodstains from the fight yesterday. The second was getting rid of the bad taste in my mouth and replacing it with something nicer.

Too bad it doesn't help the headache, I thought solemnly as I held the side of my head in my hand.

I closed my eyes tight for a few seconds before looking ahead of us. I had my bag of sand floating with Mage Hand against the ceiling with a gentle yellow light as we stood inside the cavern that once held the captured wolves. Klarg was on the opposite side, shackled to the wall by his neck like the wolves once were. Thorn Wielder appreciated the irony.

I reached in my backpack for a moment before pulling out a piece of parchment and an ink pen. If we did get any answers from him, I would want it written down so I could come back to them when my head was clear.

"...Do it." I spoke low with a horrible scratch to my voice. "Charm him."

The bugbear glanced up at us with hatred in his eyes. One of them anyways. The other was swollen shut; almost as bad as his broken jaw. Glemerr didn't waste any actual bandages for him when she treated him. Just rags and leather straps she found around the caves. In every way this 'warlord,' or whatever he thought of himself as, had fallen.

"Do I gotta?" Ricven asked with disdain. "I'd rather not waste it."

"It would make this end faster." I frowned.

Klarg snarled. "How do you stand? I impaled you."

"I got over it," I said plainly. "We have questions."

He barked a laugh at us. "Questions? Klarg won't answer to a frail human girl! You think these chains can hold me?"

"Unsure," I spoke calmly. "But they have so far, haven't they?" His cocky grin died at that.

Ricven and I were the only ones here. Sildar had been moved to the wagon's bench and the others were trying to load the merchant's goods onto the cart. It was going to be tight and some of them would need to carry a few things but we would get it all to Phandalin.

"..." Klarg glared at the floor.

"Well?" I looked to Ricven.

"Alright, fine, I'll do it," he relented. "But if it don't work, we'll need ta call some muscle." Regardless, he stepped forward and stopped a few feet away from where Klarg's chains reached. He didn't need to walk right up to the creature for this.

"Say, big guy," Ricven began, his fingers tracing small sigils behind his back. "We don't wanna draw this out no more than you do. So I've a proposition for ya! Could ya kindly." As he said those words, he crushed his hand into a fist, shattering the sigils as the magic wisped outward toward Klarg. "Play nice with me an' my darlin' compatriot here? We just need a few questions. Then we're outta your hair!"

The magic seeped into Klarg's face, through his skin and into his mind as his expression began to soften. His eyes tensed up as though he deeply considered Ricven's words. The moments began to pass as Ricven's fist stayed tightly held behind his back to the point where he was almost trembling, before finally we had our answer.

Klarg looked deep into the gnome's expression. Then at mine. And he smirked.

"Of course," he said softly. "I'd be happy to help. What do you need?"

I took a low breath and stepped forward. "To begin, Klarg, your warband captured someone we knew. Dwarf, male, black hair, very gruff voice. Probably had an attitude," I added. When I saw Klarg nod in recognition I went on. "You ambushed him from the road and kidnapped him. Why?"

"It was a command. From King Grol," Klarg specified. "He sent a goblin with a message to watch for the Dwarf and capture him and his stuff. Especially paper."

"Like a map?" I asked, earning a nod.

"The king asked for it specifically. Said it was as valuable as the dwarf. So we made sure that we had acquired it as well as per his command."

Ricven took a moment to look proud of himself. "Thought I should mention, his vocab's gonna be a little better while the spell's up. Don' make him speak new languages but it helps him talk ta my standards. Personal touch."

"I like it," I said absently as I kept writing. "Why does your king want the dwarf and the map?"

Klarg shook his head. "He doesn't. He wants payment. Someone that goes by the Field Baron paid for our strength."

"And who is the Field Baron?"

"No idea." Klarg frowned.

"...Sir?" I turned to Ricven. We agreed to use no names while we were in here. "This spell. Does Klarg still have the ability to lie?"

"What?" Klarg looked at me with a painful look in his eyes. "I wouldn't lie to you! I want to help."

"He's right," Ricven told me. "He could lie but he doesn't want to. We're best buds! Ain't that right Klarg?"

"Of course." He smiled weakly. "I'm glad to hear you say that."

Wow, this works too well, I thought. "My apologies. How long has the Field Baron asked for your king's help?"

"Several months now. He had King Grol assign small bands of goblins patrol near the small town. Made us work alongside these humans." His mouth curled into that same sneer he had at us not two minutes ago.

"Who are these humans?"

"No idea." His face softened again. "Another warband maybe? They can fight."

"And do you think your king would keep the dwarf alive?"

"He's worth less if he's dead. Field Baron's paying more for the dwarf's life."

Ricven scratched his chin. "And where is Gund..." I had the light abruptly flash to catch Ricven's slip up. It hurt my headache but it was worth it. "Sorry. Where is the dwarf, bein' held now?"

"At the Dark Pit Keep," Klarg admitted. 



"A. A keep?" Rainbow blinked. Twilight and Sunset had been the ones taking heavy notes but Rarity and the other girls were listening too. "They own a keep? Like, is this an actual army?" Her expression got excited.

"Ya said there weren't any kings we knew of, right?" AJ asked, earning a nod. "It's startin' ta sound like a tall order."

"Maybe that's just what these bugbears call it." Sunset frowned. Then she cleared her throat and spoke with a calm tone. "And how far is this keep from here?"

"About a day and a half travel," Story went on in a guttural tone that had once terrified the group. When Rarity's spell made him calm down, everyone was all the happier to hear the voice now. But then Story looked worried. "You're not thinking of going there, are you?"

"Of course." Sunset finished her writing. At least we're getting answers in the game, she thought. "We need to get that dwarf and fix the mess you made."

"You...You can't," he warned them. That caught the girl's attention. "I may be King Grol's strongest bugbear, but he has more than me! Dozens of goblins, lesser but strong bugbears, even hobgoblins. If you attack, you'll be slaughtered!"

"So it is an army." Rarity, with Ricven's voice, bit her lip. "That's upsettin'."

"It sounds more than that," Fluttershy believed. "One bugbear was scary. And what are hobgoblins?"

"Generally, people know they're goblinoids like goblins and bugbears," Story said with a nod. "But they're well-trained. They take war and violence seriously."

"Ah ain't sure we're ready fer that," Applejack mumbled.




"Your concern has been noted." I started writing again. "We will take our chances."

He stared at the ground, truly worried for our safety. Comical.

"How long 'til the dwarf's sold off ta this Field Baron?" Ricven asked.

"Ten days?" Klarg shrugged. "Possibly more. The king hates the Field Baron's commands. He'll try asking for a better reward. Plus the dwarf probably only arrived this morning. We sent him the night before you attacked."

"Good. This is good." I started looking over my notes, ignoring my hangover to make sure I had everything we needed.

"Hey." Platick peeked his head in the entrance. "Everything's loaded. How's it coming?"

"Better than anticipated," Ricven told him as I passed over my notes. "In fact, I think we got what we need. Any more questions, Miss?"

"No. But I have a request. You have good timing, right?"

"I'd like ta think so. Why's that matter?"

"Do you think you could end the spell right as he starts answering my next question? At the perfect time?"

I watched as a playful smile filled his face. Then he gave me a mock bow. "The floor is yours, Miss."

"Thank you."

I walked up and crouched down so I was eye to eye with the bugbear. After this interrogation, I wasn't the least bit scared of him anymore.

"You know Klarg," I started, wearing a saddened face. "When we first met, you were incredibly rude. You failed to even give us the chance to explain ourselves. That hurt."

"O-Oh?" Klarg's face was flushed with guilt. "I didn't consider that."

"I know. But here's what hurt more." I gestured to my robes where there was still a large hole. The shirt I had underneath was ripped too but it was less noticeable. "This robe was a gift. And that javelin truly hurt. And after all this time, I have yet to hear a proper apology."

I stood back up and took a specific amount of steps away from him. "Do you think I can hear one now? From the bottom of your heart?"

Past his guilt and sadness, Klarg saw this as a glimmer of hope. One chance for his moment of redemption. "Yes! Yes, I will!"

From behind me I heard a snap of fingers.

"I am so. Deeply sor. S-Sorry..." Klarg's expression went slack for a moment before, slowly, twitch by twitch, his guilty face twisted into one of demented fury and bloodlust. His eyes looked to Ricven with a clarity of what happened before his real anger of what he just said fell to me.

"...uuurggggghhhhAAAAAAAARRRRRRGGGGHHHH!" He pounced at me like a rabid dog, the chain around his neck nearly chocking him as his long arms tried so hard to reach me. To get his vengeance for the humiliation I put him through.

I took another step back and flicked the spit off my cheek.

"Sirs? I think it's time we left." I turned around to face Platick and Ricven, who kept their guards up as they stared at the monster tried so hard to reach me.

"YOU WITCH!" He screamed. "I WILL USE YOUR BONES TO ADORN MY ARMOR!"

"Goodbye Klarg. Enjoy your new war room." The second I and the guys turned the corner, I held covered my ears and quickly rushed out of the cave before Klarg's cries for blood could wrack my brain any further.





Ravathyra's POV
On the Road
Some Time Later




The walk to town was somewhat tense.

Sildar and Stostine rode on the wagon's seat as the rest of took up positions around it. Thorn and Glemerr took the front, Platick and Vareén were on either side of the cart, and Ricven and I were walked behind the whole group to make sure that nothing fell out of our overstocked wagon.

Glemerr and I were both left carrying armfuls of items that we couldn't fit in the cart but that wasn't a huge concern. Besides, all of us were fairly certain there weren't going to be anymore issues on the road after the madness we just dealt with.

Most of the trip was in silence. While the caves might have broken some of the ice for us, too many things plagued our minds. Ricven and Stostine told us what they learned from Klarg which made many of us wary about how to deal with it. A cave of goblins was one thing, but an entire force in a fortress? We were only seven people.

For some of the time, our focus fell on Stostine and Thorn Wielder. After everyone learned Thorn Wielder turned into an ox, there were so many questions that Thorn's vague answers hardly quenched. Not only that, but apparently Thorn being an ox for the hour got rid of her hangover which made all of us have our own theories.

But more curious was the speed at which Stostine recovered. When she woke up, I went to redress her wound and the whole thing had mostly healed. All that was left was tender skin and a blotchy scar. Of course Platick had more questions but Stostine never answered him. He eventually gave up.

After that, a few of us tried small talk but it was obvious that we just wanted to reach civilization. We hadn't had a proper warm meal and camping every night had worn on our morale.

But after about four hours of nonstop travel, we finally got our wish.

Sildar perked up from his seat and used his good arm to block the suns' rays from hitting his face. "Heads up everyone. I see farms."

"Wooooo!" Ricven gave out a dramatic cheer. "'Bout time! My feet are gettin' rubbed raw from all a' this walkin'."

"This was half a day's travel," Vareén reminded him. "Stop complaining."

"Ah relax Vareén," I told her with a grin. "Ya can't deny yer as glad as he is ta find a roof ta sleep under."

She didn't have a comeback for me.

"I know it would be a luxury," Stostine started. "But I would love a bath tonight."

"What about that cleaning spell?" Platick asked her. "You used it on each of us. I haven't been this clean for weeks."

"Some things only a hot bath can solve," Stostine reasoned. She was right, you know.

"Unfortunately, you're going to be disappointed," Sildar told her with a chuckle. "The Stonehill Inn doesn't have a tub. But, they do have six rooms and they're almost always open."

"Platick and Ricven can bunk," Vareén proposed.

"Agreed," the rest of us, minus the guys and Thorn, all said in unison.

"Why am I not surprised," Platick grumbled.

"If it's all the same to you," Sildar told us. "I'd like my own bed. I need to give my leg some space."

"In that case, Thorn? Wanna bunk wit' me?" Glemerr asked.

"Bunk?" She cocked her head. "What bunk?"

"It means ya can sleep in mah room!"

"Elf. No sleep," she reminded us. "Trance. I trance forest."

"It'd be safer if ya took the bed," Ricven told her. "There's more of that 'infestation,' as ya call it, remember? Klarg said they patrol outside town."

"..." Thorn's shoulders slumped. "Town...New."

"The town's not dat new." Glemerr thought to herself. "Gundren said it's been dere awhile."

"Ah think she meant that she's never been in a town," I informed her. "Thorn Wielder's always been in the wild."

"No town," Thorn Wielder confirmed.

As we all kept talking, we started to pass by a few farmhouses. One of them had a dog lazily watch us from its porch.

The other was a field that was currently being tended to by someone. They were taking care to till the soil since it hadn't rained for a number of days and the soil was starting to get a little too dry. It was hard to tell at this distance what he was growing. Whatever it was, the crops were subterranean and all the group could see were the leaves that sprouted out towards the sun. Regardless of what was being grown, the group could be well assured that the proper amount of space was put between each individual crop to allow for the best result the family could find. The field might not have been perfect in how well the space was being used but—




"I'm sorry, why are we focusing on this one farm so much?" Twilight asked, cutting into Story's sudden monologue.

"Oh that?" Gilda sat up. "Every time he screws up something farm-related, Mac gives him this stink eye. It's become this whole stupid thing now."

Applejack turned to give Big Mac a unamused look. "Big McIntosh, are you serious?"

Big Mac said nothing as his head sunk to the floor. Then AJ turned back to Story. "Feel free ta ignore him. He might be a stickler fer details but Ah sure ain't. He tries again, ya let me know."

Story gave her a happy nod and got on with the point.




A human teenager was tending to the field before pausing to watch us pass. Out of politeness, Glemerr gave him a huge happy wave and, after a few seconds, the boy hesitantly raised a hand in return before getting back to work.

Heh. Good lad.

"Sildar." Platick looked up at him. "Vareén mentioned you and her were in Phandalin recently. Any details you can tell us?"

"Let's see." He crossed his arms. "To start, this town's about seven years old and it's mostly mining families. It's mostly a near even split of humans and dwarves. It's got silver mines but they aren't nearly as plentiful as the mines up north. However, the mine Gundren found was expected to be a diamond in the rough."

That good, huh? Explains a lot.

"Phandalin was also built over what used to be a Cortássian settlement long before the war. Needless to say there's some bad blood towards Cortássian elves. More so than normal, that is."

"Does dat mean Vareén an' Thorn're gonna be in trouble?" Glemerr asked.

"Not me," Vareén assured her. "I'm not at all Cortássian. Thorn Wielder's a pure example though."

I bit the inside of my cheek. She was right. The differences between elves of Cortás and elves from anywhere else were obvious. Cortássian elves had a sheen to their skin as though they wore some kind of precious metal personified and sported tiny horn-like protrusions on the tips of their ears. Their hair was said to always resemble the color of leaves found in nature and their eyes should shine like gemstones in the sunlight. That is, if all the rumors or bards in the kingdom were to be believed.

Thorn Wielder was proof that most of those rumors were true, at least to a point. She had a bronze-pale skin, her hair was a bright orange with a heavy streak of green on the side and eyes of emerald, although they weren't 'shining' by any means, and the tips of her ears had thin horns that poofed at the end like a mushroom. Everything about her stood out just as much as the scythe and vines that she carried. Even the way she walked had a unique gate to it.

In contrast, Glemerr mentioned what Vareén looked like under her hood before the lass made her shut up. Vareén had jet black hair that she kept cut above shoulder length. She had tan skin with only a small hint of brass sheen in a few spaces and blue eyes that weren't too bright. And, she walked just like any other sourpuss who didn't want to be seen. With her hood up and armor on, you couldn't even tell whether she was elf or human. A distinction a lot of elves in her situation preferred to keep, unfortunately.

By this point, the winding road we were travelling down began climbing over a hill to give us our first glimpse Phandalin. The town proper consisted of forty or fifty simple log buildings, with some built on old fieldstone foundations. As we got closer, we could tell the old buildings from the new as a few key structures stood out with small signs signaling their importance.

Next, we saw more town folk going about their day. Children played in the grass with sticks while the adults all watched as they did their chores or errands. Many of them stopped to see us passing by but while some of them kept staring, especially at Glemerr and Thorn Wielder, the rest went about their business.

"...Town," Thorn Wielder said as she took in the sights. She locked eyes with a few people before they started to hurry on their way somewhere else. No doubt to tell everyone else of the ragtag group of folk that arrived. "Many people."

"Compared to Agix? This is nothing," Platick said under his breath. But from his voice, he was taking peace in the change of scenery.

"Certainly," Stostine agreed. She didn't seem upset about that either. "To begin with, where do we take the supplies? Gundren originally said he would meet us here to pick them up."

Sildar nodded. "There's a handful of small shops but the place Gundren dealt with was Barthen's Provisions. They'll take everything off our hands. Including the cart. It belongs to him. Then he'll take the oxen to the stables for us."

"Take oxen?" Thorn frowned. "No take."

"Hey, it's okay Thorn," Glemerr promised her. "Stables are like big houses fer da horn donkeys! It's warm and, uh. Um...Oh! And it keeps de rain off!"

"Rain off?" Thorn Wielder took a second to consider it.

"We'll deal with that later," Platick told us. "If they're taking the cart, we need to return the Griffonbound supplies first. Otherwise they'll have us carry the crates the rest of the way."

Ricven smirked. "Good thinkin'. Thankfully everythang's set up along the main square ahead. Sildar? If you'd be so kind as ta guide us?"

"Of course. Thorn Wielder?" Thorn glanced up at him before he pointed further down the road. "Please guide the oxen that way."





???'s POV
Griffonbound Vendors
Meanwhile





The front door was thrown open, striking the bell with enough force to knock it off of its hook and onto the floor with a clatter. Standing above it and in the doorway was a petite woman with auburn hair tied into a messy bun and white with gold trimmed acolyte robes. She straightened her thin framed glasses before beaming at me.

"Sister Garaele," I sighed. "Please stop beating the crap out of my bell. It's bad enough the thing's dented, you don't need to make it worse."

The Sister closed the door behind her, blushing as she tucked her hair behind her somewhat pointed ears. By now I knew that she meant nothing by it. She let her excitement get the better of her too often.

"My apologies," she said as she scooped the bell up of the floor, holding it close to her chest as she approached my counter. "But I come with news of great fortune for you!"

I rolled my eyes, my 'saleswoman' smile never leaving my face. "Really now? Is this like any of the other times you've promised me my great fortune? Because I think the rent's past due." I had my chin rest on the back of my hand while I rubbed my index finger and thumb together. A habit I had whenever money entered the conversation.

"Oh come now Leanne," Sister Garaele assured me with a pout. "I mean it! Just now, a large wagon with dozens of crates arrived! It must be that caravan you've been talking about!"

You mean the one due half a month ago? And only four crates worth? Doubt it. This shop dealt heavily in finished goods and business was good since we were the only ones who could provide them out here. But when said goods never arrived, there was no reason for anyone to shop since Barthen's dealt in food and materials. The moment we were out of stock, I was reduced from shopkeeper to maid. Who knew a shop could get so dusty without customers?

"Sister, just because it's a caravan doesn't mean it's for us."

She only glared. "Now how can you ever collect good fortune if you deny every chance of receiving it?!"

"With my head held high," I told her sarcastically.

"Well that's. I mean. You shouldn't. Th-That's...That's bad business," She finally stammered.

"On the contrary, it's shrewd business," I promised her. "You show your hand to your customers and you'll lose your advantage. You need to learn to hide your intentions better, Sister."

She didn't have a response. Instead, she turned away from me and pretended to peruse my dwindling stocks.

"...How's your shrine holding up?" I changed the subject.

"Better," she told me. "The blacksmith is trying his hand at silversmithing. He says he might have a new set of scales for me by the end of the week." Her positive attitude shriveled a bit. "I wish I still had my old set though."

I gave a sorry look towards the floor. "I know. I'm sorry I can't do much more for you."

"Leanne, are you kidding?" She turned back to me with a renewed smile. "The scales you lent me are help enough! I have to be careful to hide my gems but I can still grant Augury to the townsfolk. And the town is all the better for it! A great many fortunes are owed to you!"

And we're back to the great fortunes, I thought before resting back against my counter. "If you say so Sister Garaele."

From behind her, the front door opened up to reveal a human man in a brown cloak and leather armor. He wasn't local either, which told me he was a traveler. And with any luck, possibly an adventurer. "Excuse me, are you the owner?"

Sister Garaele answered before I could. "Why yes, she is!" Oh no. "This is Leanne, representing the Griffonbound Vendors in our lovely little town! And you are one of the group who have arrived with a wagon full of supplies that rightfully belong to this shop! Leanne's been so desperate to restock!"

"What, no I haven't!" I nearly shouted. Don't just say that, people will expect a reward!




The girls all balked at the boy sitting behind his little screen who took in their shocked expressions as a compliment.

"You can do female voices too?" Rarity asked, forgetting to keep up Ricven's voice.

"Rarity? Yer accent?" Story reminded her, speaking in a near perfect replica of Ricven's voice. Rarity started to clear her voice while Pinkie's smile just got bigger and bigger.

"So you can do impressions!" She cheered. "Do me next, do me next, do me next!"

"I. I, well..." Story let out a defeated breath and then cleared his breath. "Alright, fiiiiine, I mean you did ask a lot of times," he said with an impression that made Pinkie bounce in her seat. "I mean, if it was only one time, I probably wouldn't. Same with two, three, four, or six times! But that last one was the fifth time which is a pretty good number if you think about it! And if you did say it more than five times, we'd have to wait until you looped it back around to ten times!"

"Or fifteen," Pinkie realized.

"Or even twenty-five," Story repeated, making the rest of the room stare back and forth between the two. "But definitely not twenty!"

"Urgh, of course not," Pinkie blanched. "Who would ever want to ask for the same thing twenty times?! That's way too much!"

The rest of the girls kept watching this before slowly marveling at the trick. "How are you doing that?" Sunset finally asked.

"A lotta practice," Story said with his own voice. "I used to watch cartoons and then repeat the voices into a tape recorder my Mom got me. Then when I started running these games I realized I had to use female voices. That was always fun to explain to people."

"So you can just copy someone's voice whenever?" Rainbow sat back. "That sounds pretty sweet."

"You'd think," Story told her. "But when some people find out, they like asking for favors. When people started asking for me to cover as their parents to get them out of class, I stopped showing off."

"Why would anyone want to skip a day of school?" Twilight frowned. Slowly, a couple of smiling glances settled on Rainbow.

"I wouldn't go that far, guys," Rainbow defended. "I don't skip school!" When the rest of the group backed her up, Story took that as a sign to bring the game back.

"Sorry about her," he spoke with Leanne's voice towards Applejack. "Is it true though?"




"Uh...Yes, actually," he said awkwardly. "We came across them on the way here. How did you..."

"YES!" She cheered, startling both of us as she reached her hands to the sky. "This great fortune has been brought to you in part by our goddess Tymora! In your face Leanne!" She shoved a finger in my direction.

"Uhhh..." The man trailed off. "I. I think we'll come back later." He turned and began to walk out.

"Wait, what?! NO!" Sister Garaele rushed the door, grabbing the man's arm and dragging him in against his will. "Come back! The fortune must not be denied!"

"Get off'a me!" He shouted in return.

I buried my face in my hands. Please leave him alone.

The man shouted in objection before getting picked up by the short priestess and pushed back into my shop by force. Then Sister Garaele started to close the door.

"I'lljustbegoingnowBYE!" And with that bundle of syllables, I was left alone with this stranger. "Hello travelers! Welcome to Phandalin!" Her voice still reached inside the building as she shouted at more people outside.

Both of us sat there in utter silence as I massaged my brow with my eyes shut tight. "I am...so sorry about that. She cares for the shrine in town and she's. Um, well she's..."

"Energetic?" Platick offered.

"Crazy," I responded. "She's crazy. You wanna start over?"

He took a few second to consider it before slowly nodding. "Sure. We found four crates with the Griffonbound symbol stamped on them. Three of 'em were full."

"And the fourth?" I frowned.

"Mostly empty. There were some small wooden cases but all ransacked." Wooden cases? What would have been stored in there? I ran over the inventory list in my mind to try and find an answer.

"What were in the other three crates?"

"Furniture pieces, candles, sewing kits, erm, buckets, pots, pans, some lanterns although a few were cracked...a handful of other things, really."

The weapons, I realized. "I called for a shipment of crossbows. Black Shot make. Were there any nearby?"

The man slowly cringed. "The supplies were in a cave full of goblins. And the ones with crossbows were all firing black-feathered bolts." He shook his head. "We left them there. Goblins are all dead though so the crossbows are unguarded."

It took a lot not to openly curse my bad luck. Besides, if I did, Garaele would storm right back in here and make everything weird again. "Well, three outta four ain't bad. By any chance, did you happen to find a bell among all that?"

"We did." He nodded. "Goblins used one as an alarm. Thought it was weird how brand new it looked."

Woohoo~! I reached for the bell Garaele put on my counter and swept it behind the counter on the floor as it made a pitiful cling sound. "Mister, you have done this town a great service. By any chance, are you and your band all adventurers?"

"We're not a band," he deadpanned. "But I guess you could call some of them adventurers. Why, was there a reward?"

"Of sorts," I told him before walking around the counter. I deftly untied my apron and in one motion I had it off and flung over my counter in a flourish. "You said there were pots and pans, yeah? They should be cast iron which means heavy. If you could give me a hand I'll sweeten the pot. No pun intended."

I brushed past him, patting him on the shoulder before opening the door. I imagined a brand new chiming sound in my mind as I beheld the group of folk from all walks of life working to unload my supplies from their cart. Judging from it all, they made room for my crates out of curtesy.

And speaking with one of the adventurers with a hood and a bow strung over her back, Sister Garaele turned to me and happily began ringing my new bell in a frenzy.

I smiled heartedly and began to issue out some directions on where the crates were to be placed. What do you know, Sister was right for once. There really was great fortune today.