O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay! Hulda Swanmantle has officially left the building (...she's alright, folks! It was only her temple) and is well on her way for:
- mage fights
- gourmet cooking
- chicks with big crossbows
- and more!
Sign up now and don't miss a word on the misadventures of what Sushi-Troll
and I have come to lovingly call our Motley Mayhem...!
's introductory story here:
Finding Pinky 1: All Marpenoth's Eve
It was supposed to be just another mission for his church. Their young had stepped out of line to the point where they put their own lives foolishly in danger. Not for Vhaeraun, nor for the surface clan they belonged to, but simply for personal glory. Such were the ways of the young, but unlike their spider-worshipping kin in the Night Below, the elders didn't have the luxury of letting them run off and get themselves killed.
In short, it was a mission for a drow and meant to be solved by drow only. It had nothing to do with her, with which she agreed. Yet there she was, the human sorceress-cleric of Selûne of Illuskan descent that he'd come to know as Hulda Swanmantle, once again crossing paths with him. She listened intently to what he had to say, nodded her agreement that she had no business with his people, but stubbornly refused to leave. Out of all the humans he'd met in his life, this one was one of a rare few that managed to successfully... trouble him.
“I'm on a pi
Read the first chapter of Darkness Over Beorunna's Well here:
Chapter 1: Bad Publicity
Hulda liked being in this part of the temple – the High Priestess' apartments were a tasteful sanctuary of ornate grey oaken paneling and lush carpets from the corner of each separate room to the next.
Recently, some dolt had trodden these with dirty boots, she noticed as she placed her books on the round table in the little study that served as an antechamber to the salon. Doing so, she accidentally knocked the inkwell over, and a tin vase as she jumped to try to keep the stuff from dripping on the carpet by cupping it in her hand. Fussing and turning, she tried to mop the ink up with a wad of her robes, praying to Selûne it was oak apple gall and not real iron gall ink.
She never got the iron gall stain out of her previous robes...
-”Hulda!” the voice of the High Priestess came from the adjacent room. “Is that you?”
Hulda nearly knocked the inkwell over a second time.
-”Yes Lady Meldrys! I've brought the books you requested,” she
And - Selûne bless! Leave a comment for your humble chroniclers!