Alphabet drabble challenge!

A is for Agony

There was a look that people gave her sometimes - someone else's wife, usually. Disdain, pity, or some mix of both. Sometimes there were words, but she couldn't hear them. Her face showed a bland smile, but some wounded part of her was screaming, wanted to lash out at the world, at her parents, at her husband for the place they had made for her. They'd fattened her hopes on lies and dreams, and when the veil was lifted, she'd found herself more alone than she could have imagined. The wounds were sharp, and she wielded them like a knife.

E is for Exasperation

"I know you're fond of them, Captain," Yar sighed in exasperation. "Especially Ms. Sinsinger. And they're certainly handy in a fight. But an airship is no place for wild cards -- and young Mr. Callais and his friends are a whole deck o' them. The only time the Shadar Kai isn't picking a fight with the crew is when she's off sulking. The old-timer is just as mopey, if a little more dignified about it. The warforged is plain goofy, and that little warlock ... actually, I don't have any idea WHAT his story is, and somehow that just worries me more."

V is for Veteran

If you spent enough time around people you couldn’t help noticing things about them. They all knew that Selgrumel and Nattumung had been soldiers - house guards - before they joined the guild. They’d seen some action, and it showed.

A lot of it was unspoken - the way they watched a crowd, they way they had each other’s backs, how they fell into an easy uniform stride.

But sometimes they’d be down at the pub, and someone would buy them a drink. “Remember,” they’d say, with a name or two. They’d raise a glass, and that would be that.

G is for Garden

The young half-elf boy approached cautiously.

“Father?” he asked meekly, “What are you doing?”

“I’m working our garden, Vedran” the elf replied, looking up from where he’d been kneeling at the edge of his private vegetable garden.

“But… don’t you have servants for that?”

“Certainly” Jesseryn said, “But, as with many things in life, if you want to be sure of what will be reaped, it behooves you to be sure of what is planted.”

He stood up, wiping the crumbling brown earth from his fingers.

“And we should never be afraid of getting our hands a little bit dirty.”

J is for Jerk

Vedran hated having to walk past the Adventurer’s Guild headquarters, but it was near enough to his house to sometimes be unavoidable.

“Hey Callais!” a voice bellowed from the Guild’s balcony, “Whatcha doing up here? Got tired of slumming it with your rat-shit friends?”

Vedran looked up to see the grinning face of one of the guild’s higher level paladins leaning over the railing in his gleaming platemail.

“Not today, Markis”, Vedran said, “I’m heading to your mother’s house. She’s grown rather fond of me lately.”

Markis’ eyes narrowed.

“Watch your back half-breed!”

Vedran smiled.

“I’ve got friends for that.”

H is for Half-Breed

"Well," Vedran continued, "with me, everyone *knows* I'm a bastard. With you it's just an assumption. It's telling."

"Yes," Delona agreed, "They can't imagine that anyone would legitimately want to create a mixed race child."

"Exactly. The Elomeni didn't just create themselves, not at first anyway, but I still get called 'half-breed' as though it were some kind of insult."

Delona nodded, considering. "Neither of us really fit into the neat little categories they've built."

"No. Maybe it would be easier if I did, but I'm happy with who I am."

She nodded again, but still wanted her own answers.

SECOND ROUND

Y is for Yes Man


This was Jesseryn's new Council-appointed aide's first time in the Garden, and he looked on everything with awe.

"This is spiderweave vine. It is very easy to grow, and very striking to behold. You see how it appears to provide strength to the arrangement, but in fact it is parasitic and subtly weakens the plants that support it. If not carefully tended, it could devastate the entire garden." He paused while his aide considered the lesson. "It's also highly toxic. If I asked you go, now, and bring me some, would you do so?"

The young Elomeni hesitated. Jesseryn smiled.

S is for Stalking

Selgrumel had finished her practice, and Tzesira was turning to leave her vantage spot when a shadow caught her eye.

“You’re never going to catch her like that, you know”, Feyrmalken purred as he sidled up next to her, “You’re far too obvious.”

Tzesira looked down at the cat with unhidden scorn.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” she asked.

“Just offering a bit of advice, one predator to another. It amuses me to see someone so unversed in proper stalking technique.”

“Fuck off, cat” Tzesira growled.

“As you wish…” Feyrmalken purred as he turned to unhurriedly saunter away.

L is for Lingerie

He'd seen her in tight black leather and in nothing at all, and both were very nice. Tonight when she came to his cabin, Kallista was wearing something quite different underneath her loose robe.

"I thought it might be a fun change." She smiled impishly. Tzesira's chest band strained on the Tiefling in a way it never could on its owner, ample cleavage visible both above and below the meagre strip of black leather. A similar band stretched across her hips, holding up her stockings.

Brenn grinned his agreement as she pressed herself against him, tail snaking up his leg.

P is for Paperwork

It had been a good day. No fights to break up, all her files updated, and the payment was finally coming through from the Thunderbolts’ earthmote claim. Monti found herself whistling as she looked through folders on some of the promising new recruits.

Without knocking, Raddok waltzed in, a large stack of paper in his hands. He frowned as he let it fall, slamming down loudly on Monti’s desk.

“New level one exams coming up,” he offered, grumbling. Without another word, he turned severely and walked out.

With a look of loathing, Monti sighed and reached for the first sheet.

R is for Roommates

Warryn looked over the pile of containers, wrinkling his nose.

“Okay, the disturbing fact that you can get takeout blood notwithstanding, you have got to clean this up. It’s disgusting. And maybe, you know, leave the apartment sometime.”

Magcaryn, sprawled on the couch, looked up from her reading.

“What?” She glanced at Warryn and the mess. “Sorry, I’m not used to staying in one place this long, not without Tasare’s servants…”

She glanced out the window nervously.

“And I can’t go out too much. There’s too many people who want me dead.”

Warryn shook his head, muttering.

“You don’t say.”

M is for Meditation

River finds the path
Great mountain moves for no man
Fire holds back the night

Delona sat alone in her room at the dojo, a single lit candle resting before her. She sat, cross-legged, focusing on the flickering flame. Master Halatir had given her the poem to consider during her meditation, but she’d yet to grasp some greater lesson if it was present.

A random, loud scuffle of barefoot chaos interrupted her contemplation, younger students crashing through the hallway outside. A new poem came to mind.

Damn stupid children
I have been at this all day
I will kill someone

J is for Jacinthe

“You know she hates it as much as he does.” Cael said absently. He didn’t even look up from his soldering. They had already been through this several times over the years.

Brenn sighed, leaning back almost to the tipping point in the rickety chair.

“Yeah, I know. I just can’t help blaming her a little bit”, he said.

Cael shrugged and lifted his goggles.

“It could have been worse.”

“How?” Brenn queried.

“It could have been you that got hitched.”

They looked at each other and both broke out laughing.

“Yeah, that… GAH!” Brenn cried as he fell backwards.

O is for Orphan

Roscoe finished tracing the last of the magical sigils on the door to his father’s tower and took one last look up at it. He placed his metallic hand gently on the cold grey stone.

“Goodbye, Father” he said aloud, although he wasn’t sure whether he was saying it for his father or for himself. He was alone now, for better or worse.

“I’ll be back”, he said, but deep down he doubted it.

As he shouldered his backpack he turned to see the morning sun rising in the east. With a sigh and a heavy heart he began walking.

Z is for Zoo

“Owboo!” Macen giggled happily, flailing towards the monster's enclosure with his hand.

“Owlbear!” Vedran beemed down at him, “Very good! We’ll make an adventurer out of you yet!”

Marys sighed and Vedran felt, rather than saw, her eyes roll. He knew she was just being protective, but he felt like he was being chaperoned with his own son. He often wondered if she remembered exactly whose child Macen was.

Macen’s head turned towards his nanny

“Gaga!” he said excitedly, his arm extended.

“Ogre!” Vedran grinned, “Macen you’re getting really good at this.”

Marys bristled but said nothing, instead merely glaring.

I is for Intoxicated

Shalla did not drink. She’d always stood firm that it was terrible for Wilden, and satisfied herself with water or juices, if they were available, on those rare occasions that she did get out and socialize. Em was quite a handful these days, she’d had virtually no time to spend with the Thunderbolts in months.

When she did finally go out and spend some time with her perplexing mammalian friends, they discovered the truth of it. A mix-up at the bar and she was drinking wine instead of grape juice.

Three things became very clear. Firstly, Shalla was surprisingly vulgar when drunk. Secondly, she actually quite liked wine. Thirdly, bartenders really don’t like it when a drunken Wilden asks if he wants some of her wood.

K is for Kettle


Roscoe was apprehensive of going on this first adventure, for lots of reasons. This was going to be the first time it was his responsibility to make sure that what usually happened to adventurers *didn't*.

Miss Rosamund smiled, patted his arm, and told him he was a good boy when he told her his other concerns. "Take this with you," she'd said, pressing a knitted scarf into his hands, "then you won't miss me so much, hey? And I have this," she pointed to her tea kettle, covered in a cozy with a smiling Roscoe face, "to keep me company."

B is for Bloodlust

"'Bloodlust' makes it sounds like I can't control it," Tzesira huffed. "Fuck that! I can control it just fine. I just--"

"Choose not to?" Dheni asked, raising a graying eyebrow.

"Hey, don't pull that holier-than-thou shit on me! You've seen plenty of action, and you and I both know some people just don't deserve to keep breathing."

Dheni sighed. "I can't disagree," the knight conceded. "But believe me -- the day will come when you've seen enough people die, and on that day you'll regret how many you personally added to that tally."

"I know that too damned well..."

T is for Tail

"So he does everything a real dog does, huh?" Brenn asked, inspecting Roscoe's new companion.

"Sure!" the forgeborn answered enthusiastically. "He can run and play and bark -- well, maybe not bark exactly, but he makes plenty of noise -- and his tail even wags when he's happy!"

Roscoe froze, head cocked to one side as a sudden realization dawned. "Hey, Kallista!" he asked brightly. "Does YOUR tail wag when you're happy?"

Brenn laughed, opened his mouth to respond -- but could only gasp as Kallista's elbow found his ribs.

The tiefling's yellow eyes narrowed in not-so-subtle warning. "Not one word..."

C is for Couture


Mai would never admit that they had worn their best loincloth in a bit to impress the intimidating Elven woman whose offspring was growing accustomed to playing with their own, even if it was absolutely the case. But Jacinthe had just given her one of those indecipherable (yet certainly not approving) mammalian looks, and had said nothing.

They decided to mention the matter in passing to their partner. Shallahai soothed them. "They only seem to wear such things under their clothing; perhaps she did not recognize its quality."

Mai brightened. "Perhaps we should have mentioned that it is a Shortcloak?"

H is for Heatwave

Spring was a long ways off, but the recent thaw had rid the streets of the grey dregs of past snows, and the sun warmed the harbour enough to spawn pleasantly warm breezes. Most of Highmark's denizens seemed to be enjoying the brief respite, as was evident in the lighter cloaks and shorter hemlines they sported.

Of course not everyone was content with the unseasonal change.

"Oh, shut your facehole, Kay, it is *way* too fucking hot out, and I'm fucking *melting*!"

The Tiefling just laughed at Tzesira's misery as she slipped into a pair of her own leather shorts.

N is for Need

“You don’t understand!” Kallista groaned, “I need it urgently!”

“That may be, Ms. Sinsinger, but unless you can pay I can’t help you”, she exasperated shopkeeper retorted, “This isn’t a charity.”

“C’mon, Riddex” Kallista whined, “I’ll pay you back tomorrow. You know I’m good for it. I’m trustworthy!”

The hobgoblin sighed.

“I know you are, but you’re also an adventurer. For all I know you could be dead tomorrow. Store policy. No credit.”

“It’s a matter of life or death!”

“With all due respect, Kallista, I doubt anyone has ever died for wont of the latest issue of Playelf Monthly.”

X is for Xenodochy

“I hope you find your cabin reasonable, ambassador?”, Brenn asked, swirling a glass of aged Issenvik wine as he reclined in his chair.

“It will do, Captain”, the elegantly dressed human woman said with only a trace of ahkasian accent, “Although truthfully, I’m used to less… spartan accommodations."

“We’re not really accustomed to guests of your stature, milady” Brenn smiled charmingly, “Although if you find yourself cramped, you’re always welcome in the captain’s quarters.”

The ambassador blushed and opened her mouth to reply, but no words came to her. Within moments, however, she found herself reciprocating the captain’s mischievous grin.

A is for Accents


By this point in time, the Thunderbolts were used to Sir Dhenirigan’s inebriated transformation from genteel lord to roguish pirate. They were pleased that he was game to come out with them and have a good time, and he was far less offensive than some other members of their party, drunk or sober.

But there always came a somewhat awkward moment, someways into the fourth or fifth pitcher (they were a large group).

The Githyanki eyed Tzesira, who had just uttered something unusually offensive. “Indeed! Stash that gab, young missy - it ain’t the thing! No, quite!”

Delona sighed. “Someone give Dheni another beer.”

F is for Failure

Vedran held the longsword experimentally, testing its weight. It was much lighter than his own, and its magical energies caused his arm hairs to stand on end.

“Are you sure about this, Cael?” he asked his friend.

“Absolutely!” Cael replied with a reassuring grin, “The elemental manifestation coils fused into the hilt will stabilize the…”

Vedran cut him off.

“Ok, I just… is it safe?”

“Definitely!”

“Alright...” Vedran sighed, “Here goes nothing…”

He swung the sword lightly at the stuffed dummy. The resulting explosion knocked him off his feet and into a shelf of spell ingredients.

Cael winced.

“Ummm… mostly...”