IN THE GRIM WORLD OF SKATARA, LIFE CAN DANGLE ON A THREAD. HERE BENEATH SIX MOONS, ONE SIMPLE LAW MAY SAVE YOUR LIFE: EVERYTHING CAN KILL YOU, SO NEVER LET IT GET THE CHANCE!
Chapter 1: Love Stinks when it's someone else's girl
"Me and Paren are getting married, Shakti." The tall raven-haired elf said happily. "That's great Tirana?" Shaki lied as she nervously fidgited with her pointed hat, and bit her lip as she thought of how much she loved, adored and worshipped the shaply raven-haired Elven ranger in front of her. "You will come to the wedding won't you? Everybody else will." Tirana said her voice still in good spirits. "Of course I will Tirana! Your my best friend! I could never forget you." Shakti said as she could hear her own heart breaking.
For six months she'd been on the road with a party of adventurers on a quest to save all of Skatara.(not like anybody thanked them!) They'd traversed dungeons, fought in wars, went through hardship, and discovered what their true characters happened to be made of. Along the way Shakti had become infatiuated with the Elven warrior with her black hair, dark green leather outfit, and wonderful woodsy voice. They shared so many things together, and really they happened to spend the most time together out of all the party. But now Shakti had discovered that the elf was really in love with Paren, the noble Paladin who cared about little else but "the quest!" and "Honour!" both words he liked to shout at any given moment. At hearing this news it took all of Shaki's willpower not to just fall down and cry...at least until Tirana left.
A few hours later Shakti finally overcame her sniffles just a bit and sat up on the bed in her loft. It wasn't a large place, merely a small one room apartment overlooking the Magik Quarter of Dalcada, but it had all she needed. Maps, charts, charms, books, scrolls, wands, potions, brooms, bottles of toads, urns full of goblin bones, and numerous other items lay strewn about. 6 months since leaving and her home still looked the same which provided Shakti with a little happiness, if only she could share that happiness with somebody like Tirana.
After another bout of crying though Shakti finally bucked up enough to get off the bed, make sure her tears happened to be dry, and grab her broom. After fixing up her hat(the damn thing always seemed to flop down) patchwork skirt, midriff baring vest, long ripped sleeves(witches had to have them!) and adjusting her leather garters and black and white stripped boots she was finally feeling slightly well enough to go about the town. And maybe crawl into a hole and get really drunk.
"Either that or kill myself." She said half-joking as she sat on her broom and with the chant of "Vena Uday!" rocketed off into the night.
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Poor Shakti. She needs a nice death trap carefully laid for her to forget her troubles. I'll be rooting for her; any girl who keeps an urn of goblin bones in her room is my kind of girl.
ReplyDeleteHah! Well she just might get that! Of course we'll have to wait and see.
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