Mumewin Letters 7 (part 1)

(Date unspecified)

(The following text was nigh unreadable and has been copied here to be more legible)

Friends and fellow Mumes,

As mumes, we have mislabeled the idle "all Life as sacred" to be enlightened, but after last night, I now know otherwise. There are somethings on this world that should not be. The wolves in the woods south of Annalow city claw, bite, and rip into such a category. After I tell of my experience, or describe (blotted out) thing that came from the woods this morning, I still shall never again have peace. Mandra help me, I cannot purge that night from my soul.

(trails off)

(Writing become clearer here)

Chumkin and the local tavern here has donated the necessary alcohol I need to finish my report, but by the Living Goddess, I wish these memories would flee. They hurt to recall, as if looking at a festering wound on a fellow mume, I burn my eyes every time I think of it and know that no sleep will rescue me from my terrible knowledge. By duty alone do I continue, for I must be willing to do my every part to help save the world from the scourge that infests Mash'ta like a rotting disease.

The beginning was at the very tavern I write this letter in. Below at the tables, I readied what supplies I needed for a stealthy observation of the beasts. A heavy, but brave borc named Davite also expressed some curiosity for the wolves, but he knew the legends and stories as well as I. With his hands, he offered to me for protection, figuring he would be enough to stomp down on the occasional attack if the chance came, but he trusted his nimble quietness enough not to disturb my study by distracting the wolves with our presence.

Another offered, as well, but two people was more than we needed for such a mission as mine. Now, I thank what fortunes there was that Davite joined me, but morn his loss with such regret that no whip or needle could match the pain.

We gathered just enough food for two nights, and I wrapped the bane-weed around two small clubs, one for Davite and myself, and put them in sacks. Then we were off. The Effee Forest was rich during mid-day with the chirps and chitters of happy creatures following daily business as if there were no darkness in these woods. The trees were nothing if not deceptive.

Mumewin Letters 6

Dear Friends of the Library of Annalow,

We've been here three days now, which was how long it took to even speak with the farmer kin. T'was a mume girl who braided her white hair in two on the side. She kept a straw of gray-wheat at the edge of her lips while she talked and told me this:

"The wolves ain't nuth'n we cain't handle what with a heavy club and sum' of Daddy's bane-weed. We grow it all 'long the fences 'n such that we don't need ta' worry 'bout no wolf kin."

I asked about the Bane-Weed.

"Sher! It's a weed like 'ta grow here in the forest. Mah' Great Great Gran'pap found a spot o' the forest where none of them wolf kin show up. That's where he started the farm on the east side've the Big Silver*. So since he been planting the food we gotta eat and trade with the rest of Elexia, he been line'n the fence posts with 'em. Wolves of no kind can stand the smell of Bane-weed. Donno why. I kind'a like it m'self. Here, smell."

The flower I was given looked like monkshood. The anaviated has been using these flowers as a form of poison throughout history, and the light blue devils have been known to be toxic by mere touch, but here in Elexia this family stumbled on what seems to be a non-poisonous variety. The smell still wasn't pleasant.

I purchased some of these flowers from my new friend and wrapped a club with them. Tomorrow, I shall venture into the woods to watch the wolves.

Yours,

Professor Steven Mumewin

*Silver River?

Mumewin Letters 5

16th of the First Spring, 2,001 (ADZ)

To you, my firends,

Elexia is the proverbial small village, where social connections are tight. There is even a farm run by a rickety old mume and his family who somehow hold their own against the Dread Wolves successfully enough that the sheriff has never been on their farm. They are not wholly approachable, which is a pity because their record at defending against the beasts is unbroken.

The rest of the village knows well the wolves, and when I asked they said the best bet with these studying these creatures was through a spyglass from outside the woods, preferably on a hill 10 leagues west of the forest. Chumkin got a good luagh out of that, especially when I inquired as to the location of this hill. It must have been some shared joke about world tourists.

Elexia is kindly and quaint, just large enough to require a local sheriff. What at the mill, I asked and discovered the law here is simple (if you'll pardon the local dialect):

"1. Don't take what ain't your's.

2. Don't hurt none more than they ask for.

3. Don't be a dick."

I asked the sheriff, a large woborc, what she thought of the Annalow law of "no edges larger than one's hand," and she pointed as rule number 2 and went back to work. I say back to work, but it was at the mill they she was helping at. The Even the Sheriff helps with the wood production in this town, as did everyone except the inn-keep as far as we could tell.

There is also a local Dryad here. How rare. When I knocked on her tree, I found her shy, shrinking from my investigation. The locals here generally disregard her presence as protest from tree-kin, but welcome her as a plant doctor. Ched Lumberer, the mayor and owner of the mill, said they look after the trees here because "They're our live'n."

I'll keep an eye out for wolves.

Yours,

Professor Steven Mumewin

Mumewin Letters 4

15th of the First Spring, 2,001 (ADZ)

To my esteemed colleagues at the Great Library of Annalow,

We've procured a raft at a discount from the father of a local whore Chumkin met. I shudder to think of the negotiations, but the raft is firm and will hold all six of us. Junior sat at the front, helping to navigate no doubt, and swiftly gulped up small fish curious enough to check our bow, while I and the others rowed upstream toward our next stop, Elexia.

I've been watching the woods and regarded the eyes that peer out from behind the brush. They are not friendly, tho they are welcoming. Inviting us to a feast we would not desire. Chumkin nodded to my words of worry, and the help became restless. It was not an easy night.

Legends I've heard from the slaves back home that this forest was home to the Dread Wolves who brutalized the rabbit population before they became anaviated. Again of this forest, I've heard that even all but the bravest Wild Effee would not enter this place, for fear of the evil intelligence of the wolves here.

This morning, Junior let out a Kuaw-kuaw-kuaw, waking us to the presence of a wolf who somehow jumped aboard. The borc on watch had fallen asleep and let us drift too close to the river's shore. His ravenous and yellow teeth snapped at me and mine, but pulled back, startled to the load squawks of the Ibis. The wolf was quickly knocked into the water by what oars that could be grabbed and Junior was well fed that day.

After a long two days of rowing, we've finally arrived at Elexia, a lumber village and welcome stop on the Silver River in the heart of the Effee Forrest. I shall have to study these wolves next.

Yours,

Professor Steven Mumewin,

Mumewin Letters 1

9th Day of First Spring, 2,001 (AZD)

To my esteemed colleagues at the Great Library of Annalow,

This is my last letter to be written here for the archives as I make my way out into the open world south of Annalow City and into the wilderness on a trek to the hidden Felf Kin town of Alexture. I have with me 5 men, including one "Salty" Chumkin, who seems the most reliable of Mumes to be found at the Docks below our great community. Indeed, Chumkin was instrumental in the recruitment of other sailors as they tend to understand the club over the word. We also have enough provision for the team of 6 men and a map I have procured from a devilish gentle borc whom I trust.

The goal of my expedition, of course, is to make connection with the library in Alexture in hopes to consult, index, and possibly copy or exchange books with our own collection in mind. My secondary task will be that of exploration on species in the local area. As you all know, I've become hyper-fascinated with the local wild life and endeavored to make my own observations.

Wish me luck, Ladies and Genital mume, I shall need it.

Yours,

Professor Steven Mumewin,

Steven Mumewin (Professor)

Fitness: 0 Awareness: 1

Creative: 1 Reason: 2

Heart Magic: -1

Luck: 5 Discipline: 4

Skills: Athletics (Novice), History (Proficient), Investigate (Expert), Literacy (Proficient), Melee (Novice), Music:Recorder (Novice), Navigation (Novice), Stealth (Novice), Survival (Proficient)

"Salty" Chumkin (Sailor)

Fitness: 3 Awareness: 0

Creative: 1 Reason: 0

Heart Magic: -1

Luck: 4 Discipline: 5

Skills: Bluff (Novice), Brawling (Expert), Firearms (Novice), Gambling (Proficient), Intimidate (Proficient), Melee (Proficient), Riding (Novice), Sailing (Novice), Stealth (Novice)

Amythra Follow Up

Okay, I'm done with the Amythra story and I'm working on an outline for the next story. I wanna introduce a lot of ideas, but I think I'll start with the characters.

What will make this next tale different is two things. 1: Since this is based on a setting for an RPG, I'll actually be making the characters using Active Exploit rules (uh...which means I should probably work on finishing my take on Active Exploit rules). 2: I'm starting with a town south of Annalow called Elexia, a lumber village which...uh...honestly, it better designed than Annalow. Blame this one on Mandra. She's not one for city planning and I'm not gonna touch Annalow. It's not MY town. I worked on Jerrow, which was hardly used, and Elexia. I think she's planing for it to be like Ankh-Morpork from Discworld. Not really set in stone, but there are district locations.

Amythra taught me a few things. The biggest lesson was I should really outline these stories if I'm going to write them. Amythra had absolutely no plan when I began except I knew the island girl would be dealing with the loss of her brother to the war and that she'd be exploring Annalow. I pulled Anna Goldeyes from the novel I've never published because I knew her well and knew she was the strong kind of character needed to pulled Amythra through her trouble, but even that came out tinny and thin.

Another lesson learned was the "Quest" given to the main character wasn't any big deal. That was a mistake. Characters are driven by their own desires, sure, and Amythra had a desire for her brother back, but the setting for such a question should have had grander stakes.

Enough of the bad. As for the good, I'm quite proud of my word work, though it's in desperate need of proper proofing, and not my seat-of-the-pants approach, but aw well. What can you do?

Next week, while I work on the outline a little better and test out the chemistry of the companions, I'll release some extra world building info, and try to do it in a more fashionable way than before.

Leave me a comment, or something. Let me know someone's reading this.

Amythra 43

The next morning, Amythra was on her way. She had long since bid goodbye to Anna, Roose, and Boose. All conversation aside, she was only in the city on business. Amythra carried with her more than Anna Goldeyes ever saw in four months pay, and guarded it in her burlap sack while she boarded the ship back home. She looked on to another ship she recognized as a military vessel, wondering if Marvate was aboard, or if another ship was his calling.

Alone again in a small cabin below deck, she thought about it. She would be in the city more often and may even again run into the strange red guard inside. It was at once so very overwhelming, yet very small. And mad. Who ever heard of celebrating a candy smith's birthday? She thought of Anna and felt glad, lucky, really, that they met. A friendly face. That was what she had needed.

Unbeknown to her, her adventure was as much Roose and Boose's interference as much as the map was. All of it a mere side effect of a spell unconsciously cast in motion by two Ixxar to help support the war in the north. Such is the way of one's life, I suppose. Aren't we all cogs in one form or another? But Amythra didn't know or care.

She pulled out a stretch of papyrus from her sack and carefully rolled is open, weighing the corners with a lamp and some random debris from within her cabin. Finding a nice compressed chuck of charcoal, she began to write.

Dear Marvate,

Amythra 42

Above the city street, Amythra and Anna watched the few parade stragglers and night watchmen below. Anna passed over a jug of wine, which Amythra graciously took. She'd been old enough to drink since she could read, which means either she's a new literate or, more likely, the drinking age is pretty low in Jerrow. This was some of the best wine that touched her lips.

Behind them is a warm lit dinning room, Arrow and the Ixxar twins were cheerfully talking about business over some after dinner drink, leaving the womumes out of it. Amythra didn't mind. Her task complete, she felt relieved. "The Living Goddess stresses on experience, yeah?"

Taking a good glug of drink, Anna wiped her mouth. "Sensation, child. Savor everything."

"What about loss?"

"Everything."

Amythra looked down from her cup to the heavy bag of coins seemingly enshrines on the table beside her. It felt like she had traded her brother for a coin purse. Didn't feel right. She turned back to her glass. "What do I do? I mean, I'd give anything not to feel this anymore."

Anna sighed. She remembered what happened the first time she lost family while on assignment in the western lands. "I can only say deal with it in anyway that pleases you, except one." She put a firm grip on her Amythra's shoulder. "Don't run from it. Run and it'll rot inside you like a disease." She didn't tell the girl that the hurt never really goes away, and who knows? Maybe Marvate would survive and come back home alive.

He would, but Amythra wouldn't see him again.

The night passed with brothers and sisters in the minds of most mume that night. He's not dead, she reminded herself. He's not dead, and I'll write him every chance I get.

Amythra 41

"You're Arrow? Arrow Mufger the smith?" Amythra knew he was without asking, but couldn't stop herself.

The borc looked behind him. "Unless I'm in the wrong building again." Arrow looked at Amythra's companions and he brow furrowed when he saw Roose and Boose. "What...uh...what can I do for you, young womume?"

"This is from my father." Amythra opened the olive-wood box revealing the master work sword handle. The black ivory shined, even under torchlight, and Anna Goldeyes gasped. It was the complex detail that made her back away. The carving was small, precise, and detailed, as if an army of Mume and Borc were shrunk down and turned to bone. Crow Whale Ivory was hard and sturdy, like granite, and such a carving would've taken skill and time and time and skill. So much of both. "He said this was his eighth attempt. He apologizes for taking three months."

"Good gracious me." The borc exclaimed, not looking at the box or it's content. "You must be Burret's little womume." He stepped around the counter and picked up Amythra. As if examining a doll and turned her left, then right. "HAW!" And then he gave her a bear hug, ruining her cloths with forge soot and wet borc hair smell. "Little Amtree!"

"Amythra." She corrected.

"Same thing." He held her up again and marveled. "Why, I hadn't seen you since you had only a...a hand full of seasons." He put her down and suddenly shifted his mood to business. "What's this, then? Why isn't Marvate here?"

Amythra gave Goldeyes a look, as if asking for help. "He's...joined the war, Mr. Mufger."

"Bah." Arrow threw his hands in the air and rounded tot he other side of the counter again. "Idiot. Anyway, it's Arrow, Amtree, an let me look at this."

"It's Amythra. Not Amtree."

"Yes yes."

Amythra 40

Arrow's Smithy was not advertised as a weapon's shop, rather a metallurgist for constructions and horse wears. A sign read, "Sharp as an Arrow Smithy" which hung over a fairly plain looking blue brick building with smoke billowing behind it. Apparently the forging and such was done in back.

Amythra drew on her gloves and took a second look at the olive-wood box. She breathed in, straightened up, and blew out. "Right." You're your father's daughter, she thought. She nodded. She spoke out loud. "Let's go, then."

Pushing the heavy groveroot door open caused a deep clank to emit from a bell on its other side. Inside was a variety of tools, devices, and a corner dedicated to armor and shields. The room was lit, barely, not by lamps, but with torches hooked onto the wall and baking a green-stone ceiling. It smelled like oil and polish and sent Amythra's mind racing back to one of the smithy's back home who molded ties and long nails for ship building. "Just a moment!" cried a deep chirping voice from in back.

That was the only way to describe it. A deep chirp.

When she approached the counter and placed her box on top, Amythra couldn't help but adopt a wide goofy grin. There was a light wooden carving of a borc holding a pickaxe that sat on the counter with the words "Paper Jewel" on its base. That was the name of her father's ship when he was a deck hand and this was clearly his work. The connection she needed to be at ease again.

The borc who emerges from behind a leather curtain was bare-chested and hid his remarkable mass with light springy steps. His hairy face was smoked and grilled except over his eyes, eyes like a reverse raccoon, where a thick set of goggles had been pulled away from. "'Allo. Can I help you folk?" His voice wasn't gruff, it was a baratone sing-song, quite unlike any borc Amythra had heard. He wiped the sweat from his hands and put them on the counter.

Amythra 39

"It hurts," Anna said, softening her voice a little, "and that may never fade, But he's not dead, Amythra."

"He will be. I feel it. I don't care if he'd be a slave to the family. He'd be alive. He'd still be laughing with his idiot friends at the pub. He'd still be elbowing me and pointing to sailor womume ask'n me if I thought they were hot. He'd still be do'n this job instead of me, bring'n back different looking coins to add to my collection." Amythra rolled up the map and put it under her belt. She already knew where she needed to go. The map wasn't lost anymore, she thought, her finger tips to her eyes.

"But he's not dead." Anna didn't know this girl. She had only just met her. Why did it matter? She tightened her gloves and put a hand on the girl's shoulder. "Stop mourning him, Islander. Wait, at least, until you have grave dirt to soak those tears."

The others races in Mash'ta always berate mume-kin for worrying over nothing, but that's because they underestimate the power of mume imagination. It's valuable, agile, and vivid, fore what happens in a mume's mind is just as real to them as outside their heads. Roose and Boose, being dragon-kin stood and watched the two womumes, light fading around them under a red sky, and could not see that to Amythra, Marvate had been dying over and over and over again.

"Can we go, now?" Asked Boose impatiently.

Amythra felt the squeeze of Anna's hand. "Come on, then," Goldeyes said, smiling. "Time to do your brother's work."

Amythra 38

The blue-green buildings in the next street over absorbed all the pow of the festival voices. There was a distinctly, clearly impossible quiet in the tinted shadows of this road, nearly devoid of people in the dulled rawr. Amythra could think, here.

A mume reached out of his house to light the lamp at his porch, illuminating most of Amythra's map. They were only a few streets away. Turning toward the ebony tower, a black stripe on sunset heavens, she began to march with her companions struggling to catch up.

Anna stepped closer. "That was very impressive, Ms. Tanglenet."

Amythra shrugged the complement off. "All borcs are the same. Forged by their mothers and tempered by their fathers. An' when they're drunk, they become..." she shrugged again. "...simple, I guess."

"Ah." Anna slowed to Amythra's pace, relaxed and looked up at the top of the tower for the 2,222nd time in her life. "Have you given any more thought to your brother?" The islander instinctively turned away from Anna, reinforcing her focus on the map. "Or his decision?"

"Who's had time? You, I suppose?"

"Cool your head, girl. I just ask because we'll probably not see each other again and I'm curious."

Amythra stopped under a public street lamp and threw her arms down. "Well it's none of your business! Not that there's any point to it!" Anne stopped and put her arms behind her. "He's just gone, alright?"

"...and you won't see him ever again?" Anna offered.

"I know." The thought burned Amythra, like touching the sun or looking off the edge of the city. Dreams of plummeting below, tumbling into infinite black. Her brother was gone and she would never hear his voice again. "I know."

Amythra 37

Amythra planted her hands on her hips and yelled again. "You put her down, Mister." Dreth was having some trouble registering how this little mume girl had such a loud voice, or if she was a mume. His losened the grip over Anna's face and she fell to the ground with a gasp. "What do you think yer do'n, grab'n people as if they were hunks of ham. S'no way to treat a smaller and you know it!"

Didn't make sense, Dreth thought. Well as close to thought as he could handle. Mumes don't usually yell at him.

"Is this how you were raised? Ta' drink and drink and pick on the smallers? Don' sound like a propper borc mother would'a taught you that!" Amythra walked up and poke the drunkard in the belly. "Not. At. T'all, Mister."

Hey, she can't bring his mum into..."Hey," He said, "you can't bring me mum into this. Ssss...She's not even in the city."

"And if she was? What then? This is what ya'de like her ta' see, is it? All thick-headed with beer an' sulk'n in the back ally of Annalow city covered in shame an' mume blood?"

Dreth dropped his arms. "N...no ma'am."

"Clean yer'self up. You're a borc. The pride of the north. S'time ya' acted like it."

"Yss...yes ma'am." Dreth couldn't believe it. This mume was making a idiot of him. He didn't have to put up with this. He was a Borc, Pride of the North. He mouth flew open, his finger went up and...

"Nuh." It was a sharp sound. The sound of his mother warning him not to do what he was thinking about doing. "None'a that nonsense, now. Stand up straight. Now brush yer hair back. A little polish an' you could turn a few heads, ya' can be sure of that. Ya can't fight 'em, tho, Mr. Borc." Amythra dug in her pouch. "I got two bits, 'an that's all for the likes of you, but you're not to spend it on the drink, you hear me?"

"Y...Yes Ma'am."

"Yer' to take these down the street and get a pitcher of leaf juice from the diner. Sober yer'self up. You got a whole bundle of tomorrows to make it better. Now go."

Dreth weakly excepted the money and ducked out of the ally, frankly more sober than when he went in. Amythra sighed as he left. Borcs. They were the same no matter what town they were in. She pulled the map out from under her belt and looked at it again. "Shall we go?"

As for Anna, Roose, and Boose, the term "Slack-jawed" accurately applied.

Amythra 36

The reason every race on Mash'ta fear the Red Guard is not only their use of magic that could alter your mind, but also they train in martial arts designed to reach, touch, and break you. And worse, they could make you love it.

Even though Anna had her gloves on, the direct contact between borc grip and her bare arm was enough to sense Derth's mind and it's muddled contents. Reading a drunk mind is like reading a book drunk and Anna didn't have the time to focus. Angry gold eyes turned toward the Borc, but his only answer to them was, "Gimme s...somethin, lady."

"Alright." Anna used her loose hand to grab Derth's grip and she hopped slighty, using the borc's arm as a swing and sliding between his legs, toppling him over himself. He hit the ground hard as Anna got up. "Sleep it off, Borc."

"Shoull...uh..." Derth got up slowly. "Shouldn'a done that."

Amythra was about to step in, but the ixxars, who were comfortably perched on Dreth's barrel of blue wine, stopped her. "Sit back, enjoy the show." Boose said. "She can handle this." Roose said.

The was a loud POP as Derth's drunken fist smashed into Anna's shoulder, spinning her around like a top. He was aiming for her right. The two worked to study themselves, Anna from the spin and Derth from the perceived spin. His head wasn't in the fight, you see. Once ready, Anna started to pull her gloves off, but only got one of them when a large hand that smelled of sweat and booze wrapped firmly around her head.

A loud voice boomed behind Derth like a thunderclap. "HEY!"

Amythra 35

As with any city the proverbial back allies, even on the birthday of the Candy Marf, were never a good idea. Trouble visited in the form of a large and drunk Borc hunched atop a barrel of blue wine. He was Derth Bigbeard and his girlfriend had just dumped him. He was just thrown out of his first bar tonight and figured he had at least four more before he was done, but needed a little money to get the next drink.

Fortunately, he thought, there was a small group of people headed this way now. Two womumes and a pair of ixxars. Surely one of them would spare a piece of gold. Unfortunately and unbeknown to poor Derth, one of the womumes was a Red Guard.

"Hey, ladiesss," Derth struggled out the words. Words, right now, were like flies and using them meant Derth had to catch at least three to use one. "I...need...uh...you got a bit'er two?"

Roose and Boose stepped back and held their nose. "Wow." Said one to the other. "It's amazing! It's like a fish monger combined with a trash heap."

"Thass not....uh..." There was a word Derth was looking for, but he just couldn't slur it.

"Nice?" Boose suggested.

"Nah. 'S the opposite of nice, that is. I m'n, a feller...uh...needs a drink sometime. Come on. It's...Sirroot Mister's day somethin' somethin'."

Amythra knew just how to deal with him, but before that, Anna gripped her arm and lead her past. "Come on, Amythra. Just ignore him." No, thought Amythra, that'll just...

"Ya can'na just leave me without a drink...er..." Dreth did the calculation and decided on "lady." The borc burped, killing three insects with his breath.

"Looks like you could just breath in," suggested Roose. "And the beer on your breath would keep you drunk for days!" finished Boose. Anna escorted Amythra by, waving the drunkard aside.

"No. It's....s'not nice." Dreth barked and he grabbed Anna by the arm.

Amythra 33

"How could ya' know that?" asked Amythra. Maybe this was such a common occurrence that they had a place just for lost maps. What a strange and wonderful place Annalow had suddenly become.

Anna wasn't so enthusiastic. "An excellent question." She said, narrowing her eyes. She had no idea how the ixxar would be able to read minds, that being mume magic, and of course she had no knowledge of Ixxar magic. What a dark and devious place Annalow had suddenly become. Anna was unconsciously tugging on her gloves, pondering how she would sneak a peek into the Ixxar twins minds.

Roose saw it. "Oh, keep your hands sheathed, Red Guard. We just happened upon a map." He told the truth. "And it just so happens this womume has lost a map." Boose followed up. "And we just happened to have eaten at the same tavern." Roose said. "With this map." Boose pulled out the scroll. They unraveled it and showed it to Amythra.

Mandra must have been shining down on this poor islander girl that day because it was indeed the map we all knew would come back to Amythra. It brought a tear to her eye and dilated her pupils. "This is it. THIS IS IT!" Amythra excitedly jumped off her stool and lifted up Roose and Boose in a bear-hug that would have put a borc to shame. This was the first hug Roose and Boose had received from a mume and they found it not all together unpleasant, if startling.

After only a few fractions of a second, they formed the correct response to sudden embrace. "Uh..." They said in chorus.

Meanwhile, Goldeyes, who snatched the map away, was putting her name sake to work, examining it and looking for flaws. Anything that might tip off this being a fake or a trick. Nothing came to mind, which brought up a bigger mystery of, if this was the genuine map, how in the name of the Living Goddess, could it possibly have come into the hands of a couple of Ixxar who stumbled into an argument with them.

Amythra pointed over Anna's shoulder. "See here! This is my father's friend! A borc named Arrow Mufger. He's a sword smith. This is defiantly my map!"

"So it seems." Anna could not stop checking the scroll over and over. She's must be missing something. It was too big a coincidence.

"Thanks you, Mr. Ixxar and Mr. Ixxar. How can I repay you? Please, anything I can do." The Ixxar twins exchanged glances again. This, they knew, was luck in it's raw form.

Roose brush his hair back with his fingers. "Well...It so happens we need a smith." Boose rubbed his nose with his palm. "If you're the daughter of a friend of Arrow, maybe you could introduce us."

Amythra 32

For a while, the four didn't speak. Roose and Boose busied themselves with food, Amythra marveled over the unending crowd of people in the festival, and Anna Goldeyes fumed over the loss of a family she hadn't seen since she was 13 seasons old. Anna poured the last of the pitcher into Amythra's glass and finally broke the silence.

"Where did your map lead, Ms. Tanglenet?" Anna asked.

Amythra pulled away from the gorgeous population outside to focus. "Uh...I don't know the name. It must've been a sword smith." Roose and Boose exchanged glances.

"There are a lot of weapon smiths, lately, with the war. How do you know it was a sword smith?"

"Because my father's an ivory carver. He was commissioned to master a sword handle by one of his friends here in Annalow. I have it in my inn room."

"Well, if he's working for the military, chances are good he's in the docks. As you heard, most edged weapons are illegal in the city. Swords are barely tolerated under it." Roose and Boose leaned closer to overhear their two womumes.

"Oh no. I was sure it was in the city proper. Is owning a sword still illegal if you're just making one?"

"Yes, but that doesn't stop weapon smiths from working in the city. I know of plenty of black markets that make blades. Do you know if that was what you were..." Anna stopped. It was because Roose and Boose had leaned so far over to listen that they fell out of their chairs. "Something to add, ixxars?"

The twins stood up and brushed themselves off. "Oh...nothing..." Said Boose. "Just something." Said Roose. "This map you lost..." Said Boose. "Did you lose it near the great climb?" Asked Roose. "Was it like charcoal on a Scroll of Papyrus?"

Amythra 30

"You're brother, huh. Well, he must have volunteered, then. That's something. They don't draft outside of the city, islander."

Amythra turned off of Sad Street onto Angry Ave. "Yes, well he shouldn't have gone. He's thick headed and he shouldn't have gone!"

Anna sighed. "My name is Anna Goldeyes, girl. What's your name?" The way she asked sounded more like a protocol she wanted to get out of the way rather than a friendly gesture. It still took the islander girl aback slightly.

"Uh...Amythra Tanglenet."

"Amythra, if your brother is old enough to be accepted by the Annalow Relief Army, because they do not take children, then your brother is old enough to choose if he wants to fight or not."

The food Roose and Boose ordered finally arrived. Amythra hadn't seen any meat that wasn't fish before, but didn't let it distract her. "Well, he shouldn't of been able to choose, then." She turned back to Anna. "His father needs him and...and..." suddenly, Amythra found a great desire to focus on a tiny pin hole in the window seal in front of her. She turned her eyes downwards, away from Anna's golden eyes. "...so do I."

"I agree." Said Boose, who just put a large bite of steak into his mouth. His brother elbowed him, forcing Boose to swallow before he was ready. Amythra and Anna watch the ixxar choke.

It's no small secret that the Ixxar are not fond of mume communities, but they outright hate the Red Guard, and the Red Guard them. Anna raised a brow as one twin helped the other. "Of course YOU would." Amythra turned to her new friend and made the universal noise of curiosity. "All ixxar," said Anna, "disagree with freedom."

Amythra 25

The Church of the Living Goddess has always taught that on the dawn of the third millennium from Zero Day, it will be an "Age of Firsts." These firsts come in waves and by people who are not really trying to be the first of anything, rather just to be more than what they were. Anna Goldeyes is such a person. She is Annalow's first criminal investigator, choosing certain justice over revenge as a hand for the Red Guard.

Anna herself looked like her own goddess, being unusually tall for a womume and well endowed. Her eyes were, as advertised, golden and brown and they shined in the presence of children. She wore red trousers, like most of the Red Guard, also a loose white top instead of her red uniform jacket. It was her day off, you see, and Anna relaxed at the City Bizarre where she enjoyed a small chunk of ice imported from the northern glaciers.

With magic, every action requires an equal and opposite reaction. Roose and Boose knew that the lucky map would lead to success, but Goldeyes was the reaction to their boon. Because of their luck, a small fight started beside Anna and knocked her ice onto the ground.

She Lamented her loss for only moment until the sorrow turned angry. Anna whirled around and grabbed her assaulter from behind and twirled him about face to face. "That ice was expensive."

"Hey, don't look at me, womume. This girl pushed me out of the way." Anna looked over the mume toward an islander girl apologizing to two other guys, one of whom had the girl by the vest. "She knocked all our food to the ground." the mume said, pointed to a pile of dinner in the dirt.

Amythra 24

Amythra's room was small. Smaller than her room back home. The walls were smoothed stone and not the knitted grass and mud she was used to and she felt a little claustrophobic, even if she didn't know what that word meant. There was just enough room for a bed and a stand with a book on top. She'd seen one like it at the village church. She pushed it aside to make way for the contents of her burlap sack.

One nights fresh clothes, an apple, a water skin, an olive-wood box, a return ticket, small blank papyrus, charcoal in a box, and a map...

Wait. Where was the map? Not in the sack, not under the blank paper, not anywhere. Amythra felt like she was falling. With out that map, she wouldn't be able to know what shop to deliver to and she forgot the name of the Borc she was supposed to meet. She couldn't even ask directions. Her brother's words hit her like a punch in the nose "A lot more of everything than you've ever seen." A lot more black smiths, per chance? Great Goddess.

She didn't remember sitting on the bed or placing her palms over her temple. She didn't hear herself speak. "What do I do?" These deliveries were no small affair. The only reason this kind of delivery was made possible was because father's carving skills were so good the sale of them paid for the voyage. Father might be angry enough to kick Amythra out for good and she's had to sell fake flowers on the streets of Jerrow to eat.

It's important to note; We all know the map will come back into her possession and she will somehow help Roose and Boose, but Amythra was unaware of this. So keep in mind, to her the world was crumbling as what was supposed to be proof to her father that she was reliable for making these deliveries in place of her brother was turning into a loss of several crowns of mume currency.

Without looking back, or at anything at all, Amythra darted out of the inn and made way for the crowd of the festival once more. "Plan" was too strong a word for her, then.