The Runaways

“Let’s runaway” my mother told me two years ago. Her rotund face framed by false blond curls, was aglow with excitement. She had said such things before but this time was different. If only I had known how different it would be.

“We’ll jump into the car and drive. No direction just you me and the open road. We haven’t been on an adventure in years and look how beautiful it is outside. The leaves are changing the air is crisp. Get your camera and we’ll go now.” The mask of her excitement cracked for only a moment, showing just enough worry that I had to say yes.

Before I had even finished nodding she was packing a sandwich lunch. Her homemade purple dress flapped and danced around the kitchen like a tiny purple culinary tornado. I ran to get my camera.

Being in my early twenties and having moved away from home meant I was no longer required to pretend I was too cool for these trips. I had always found them exciting. She called it “Running Away” but we rarely went far and on the rare occasion we did, we were home within a week.

I had a head start on the running away, I had flown it the night before. Running away from my life and growing up. I had just finished University with a degree in English and teaching. My mandatory Term of Service with his Highnesses Royal Army, started in a few weeks and after that I had a ready made, pre packaged life ahead of me. I’d return from service be wed to my genetically compatible husband or wife and teach the school I was most needed. It scared me, I felt like my freedom and life, were ending. Pushing away my worries, I concentrated on my last week of freedom and the only person I wanted to spend it with.

“Do you think we’ll see a T-Rex this time? I can’t believe I missed the picture last time.” I said as we got going. She smiled at me and took my hand, squeezing it and laughed. The one and only time I had seen the endangered species I was twelve and my shock and awe at actually seeing one made me forget to take a picture before it had run back into the trees.

[…]

Just a random Idea for a story.

In the dying light three men met. The sun hid itself behind the world and the darkness covered the city. The three men liked the darkness. It gave them a feeling of comfort. They believed it was safer in the dark, that somehow the absence of light could hide them from the cities consciousness.

They met in a closed health food store. Their secrets seemed like they would change the world, they believed that there was nothing more important than the pathetic dealings they were about to have. They were completely unaware of what was going on just the other side of the city and event that would make them cry had they known if was happening. Thankfully they would never need to show such weakness as the world ended as they shook each others hands.

Just a random Idea for a story.

In the dying light three men met. The sun hid itself behind the world and the darkness covered the city. The three men liked the darkness. It gave them a feeling of comfort. They believed it was safer in the dark, that somehow the absence of light could hide them from the cities consciousness.

They met in a closed health food store. Their secrets seemed like they would change the world, they believed that there was nothing more important than the pathetic dealings they were about to have. They were completely unaware of what was going on just the other side of the city and event that would make them cry had they known if was happening. Thankfully they would never need to show such weakness as the world ended as they shook each others hands.

Evil not Stupid

Word of the Day: sternutation

It was a lumbering hulk of a castle, built completely of black stone. The plans where drawn up by thirteen crazed wizards and at times it seemed like there was no way to if a corridor went to a bed chamber or a crocodile pit. Also there seemed to be a distinct lack of washrooms. This meant it was always empty until an attack when monsters and guard magically appeared in random and unexpected places.

“Sir” Said the small hunchbacked Dwarf. “I have the information you asked for about the prophesised hero.”

The Evil villain rose his long black cape billowed in anticipation. His eyes crackled with power and the Dwarf was forced to look away.

The response, in contrast to his movements, came slowly anger boiling behind each word waiting for an excuse to bubble over. “Yes, Dwarf. What is it that you have learned.”

Dwarves shouldn’t squeak they are a proud race with deep voices but this Dwarf shamed his people by almost mimicking Mickey Mouse’s voice. “Sir, he shall pose no… no, threat to you.”

“That is for me to decide minion. Don’t insult me with your petty assumptions.” His composed voice rose in a contemptuous crescendo; the last word causing the walls themselves to shake.  

Darting back and squeaking un-Dwarf-like once again he continued “Bu…But he is nothing master. A simple farm boy, with a rag tag group of friends. He is just lucky that he’s made it this far without killing himself.”

At the words “farm boy” the Villain jerked backwards his face contorted as if he was going to sneeze, but the sternutation never came and his face became more twisted in shock with every word.

“Sir…” the Dwarf stuttered before continuing, “his only advantage is that he wields his fathers sword”

The villain shuddered and sat back onto his throne. When he spoke again all power and strength had disappeared from his voice, “Is one of his companions not from around here? Were his adopted parents killed? Does he have a quirky talking animal sidekick?”

The Dwarf looked confused having never heard fear in his master’s voice before, “Yes Sir, to all your questions. But don’t worry Sir. I have good news. He’s been hurt. His wounds are most likely fatal and if he does survive he’ll be scarred for life.”

Now the villain looked three feet shorted and spoke slowly again but his words quivered in fear, “Scarred for life… Oh god it’s the end of the second act.” He got up running to his chambers he took out a large travelling chest and started to put anything around him into it.

The Dwarf watched him confused, finally working up the courage to ask, “Where are you going Sir?”

The Villain lifted the travelling chest and put a hand on the Dwarfs shoulder. “You’ve been a good lackey but I know when the full force or literary tripe is coming at me and I assume there must be other countries or worlds I can rule.”

Taking his black onyx crown off his head and placing it on that of the Dwarf’s, he said, “Good luck.” Before disappearing.

The Siberys Operative Eberron 3.5

The Siberys Operative

Requirements:

Base Attack Bonus: +12
Feats: Combat expertise, Dodge, Mobility, Spring Attack, Whirlwind Attack, Improved Feint.
Abilities: Evasion
Skills: Stealth 11 ranks, and Bluff 11 ranks.

Hit points: d8
Skills per Level: 6+ Int Modifier

Level Base
Attack Bonus
Fort Save Ref
Save
Will
Save
Special
1st +0 +2 +2 +0 Fast Movement +10ft, Sneak attack +1d6
2nd +1 +3 +3 +0 Hide in Plain Site, Careful Step +5ft
3rd +2 +3 +3 +1 Improved Evasion, Sneak Attack +2d6
4th +3 +4 +4 +1 Fast Movement +20ft, Careful Step +10ft
5th +4 +4 +4 +1 Improved Whirlwind Attack, Improved Wandwind Attack, Sneak Attack +3d6

Fast Movement +10ft (Ex):

At first level a Siberys Operative base speed increases by 10ft and by another 10ft for a total of 20ft at level 4.

Sneak Attack :

A Siberys Operative gains the ability to sneak attack, like the rogue ability.

Hide in Plain Site (Ex):

At second level a Siberys Operative gains the ability to use the hide skill even when being watched or in the open.

Improved Evasion (Ex):

This ability, gained at third level, works like evasion. A Siberys Operative takes no damage at all on successful saving throws against attacks that allow a Reflex saving throw for half damage. What’s more, she takes only half damage even if she fails her saving throw.

Careful Step (Ex):

At second level and at fourth level, the Siberys Operative can weave in and out of combat with little difficulty, allowing them to move an extra 5ft without an attack of opportunity at second level and an additional 5ft at fourth level.

Improved Whirlwind Attack (Ex):

At fifth level a Siberys Operative is so comfortable with their Whirlwind attack that it no long takes them a full round action, instead it is treated as a standard action.

This allows the Siberys Operative to use a move action in order to either move or use improved feint; only one bluff check is used for all enemies. 

*Edited* Improved Wandwind Attack:

The Improved Whirlwind Attack ability can be used in conjunction with a wand that uses a touch attack and Use Magic Device check.

The Siberys operative must make a Use Magic Device check of 20+opponents Base attack bonus or incur an attack of opportunity. The target must be in adjacent scare and must still pass the normal save. Each attack is treated separately and therefore uses a separate charge from the wand even if the attack fails.

Word of the day Expatiate

Today’s work is Expatiate.

The pressure was suffocating, the sun was blinding but was nothing compared to the noise. It burrowed into his head and expanded threatening to push his brain out of his ears.

Quickly he closed the door. He tried walking into the world once every year and it became more difficult every time. If it were up to him he’d just stay in his dark cool basement bedroom. Frank, his brother, insisted that he try leaving every year and every year the fear was overwhelming. How could people live like that, so much noise everywhere bright lights, all trying to assault your senses? Then there was the smell and the sky, by far the sky was the most terrifying thing he could imagine; a blue void waiting to collapse or a black speckled vacuum relentlessly beating on the fragile atmosphere of earth. He’d tried to explain it to his parents, his brother, the doctors; they said he was delusional or agoraphobic. They wanted to roam freely in the large scary world and all he wanted was to stay in the basement, reading and writing. He wasn’t a great writer he hadn’t been published or tried to be he simply enjoyed putting words and stories on paper.

In his writing fear didn’t control his world, he controlled everything it was the closest he’d been to true freedom. In his stories he could expatiate the world and his imagination.

He had friends in every character he wrote or read but no one understood his passion anymore then his fear.

One day he’d have to leave, he knew it, but for now he was happy and had been for so long it didn’t matter to him that he was missing anything because he had everything he needed. The fear was still there and strong but the will to be normal died so long ago he barely remembered it.

Alien abduction stories were some of his favourite to read but he could never write one. It didn’t come to him like other stories could, he certainly never expected to live one.