The Mephit's Tales

It wasn’t much of a campsite, just a little cleft of mostly-level ground with some marginal shelter from the wind. But with daylight dwindling and a bank of dark clouds fast approaching, it was the best they were likely to get before the weather hit. Krissik, being a kobold, didn’t much care about the daylight – he could see just fine in full night and even underground, after all – but the weather was another matter.

There wasn’t enough room for each of them to set up tents, and there wasn’t enough time, either; the wind was already starting to howl past the cleft, eddies tugging at their clothing. Without even discussing it, the four of them paired off, the women wrangling one tent while Krissik assisted Kepi. Of them all, Kepi was probably the least threatened by the weather, but that wasn’t saying much and the vanara wasn’t dallying. He got the poles and canvas sorted out, Krissik hammered pegs, and just as the rain started to rise from a few erratic drops into a full-blown squall, it was done. Kepi urged him in, an instruction with which the kobold was only too happy to comply, while he himself went to confer with the other two.

An almost negligent wave of the man’s hand, and the force keeping Alderian up in the air shifted smoothly downward, letting him get all fours properly onto the ground. It was a marked improvement; he was hardly afraid of heights, certainly not the mere foot’s breadth he’d been at, but it was such an undignified way to be hanging there, not like proper flight at all.

Not that Edric was quite ready to trust him enough to release him entirely, apparently; he was allowed to furl his wings, but then force bound them against his body, and he was not permitted to walk around, or even to sit. He was stuck standing with his legs outstretched, at the human’s mercy.

(more…)

It wasn’t all that comfortable. It wasn’t even all that discreet – if anyone saw them there in the garage, and especially on the bed of Mom’s truck, it wouldn’t take a genius to figure out they were up to something. But it was away from prying eyes, and specifically the prying eyes of Blake’s little sister.

“You’re sure about this, stripey?” The rat gave the edge of Mom’s emergency blanket a twitch, spreading it out a little better.

“It’s okay, Flynn. I’m not twelve.” Blake smiled, reaching out to touch the other youth’s jaw. “I haven’t done it before, sure, but I know what it is.”

(more…)

It took Vernon longer than usual to find his name on the chore roster.

Granted, that was the result of habit. Different apprentices were at the Academy to study somewhat different things – all under the broad aegis of magic, yes, but there was little in common between a biomancer’s work and a pyromancer’s, say, beyond the very basic underpinnings. So, having seen his name confined to some sections of that roster for two and a half years, when the young man didn’t find his name there at first glance, he checked again – twice – before letting his gaze roam farther.

There it was. But…

He looked around. Off to his left was Rolund, the journeyman who taught the basic elements of conjuration; all things considered, that seemed like a good person to ask. “Pardon me, Instructor Rolund?”

(more…)

It was a lonely stretch of road, and Tamarra never expected to encounter anyone there. Usually that was fine; she wasn’t the sort who needed company at all times, and she was never too far from a city, so it wasn’t a great burden when she did have such a craving.

At any rate, she was caught off guard when Saldarin came to a halt, the worg lifting his head and looking to the left, upwind. By the set of his ears – and the very fact that he’d stopped at all instead of just sniffing and listening as he trotted along – it was either a person, or an animal that didn’t belong around here – which would probably mean people again.

(more…)

The autumn winds were rushing in from the north, and bringing with them a heavy tumble of clouds. Rain was coming, a heavy, chill rain that would sweep this scrubland without mercy.

It was as Brennan was considering his all-too-scanty options for cover that he felt a familiar prickle between his shoulders.

That was the only way he knew the change was coming. It had no rhythm that he’d been able to glean; it could strike at any time of day or night, hungry or fed, alert or drowsy. Sometimes weeks or even a full turn of the moon would go by without one; other times one would come less than a day after the prior had waned. But when his skin started to itch and feel ill-fitting upon him, he knew the change would come, welcome or not, within the day; in a matter of hours it would be too uncomfortable to conceal entirely.

(more…)

It wasn’t often that Brandon saw a boomer he didn’t know.

Most of that was because he didn’t live in a place where kangaroos and the like were in any way common. Those that did live around here, for the most part, were already familiar. And yet there one was that he couldn’t remember seeing before – young, maybe just starting college; that’d explain him being a new face. He looked reasonably fit, as well as could be told given that their kind tended to be rather pear-shaped regardless. He had slate-grey fur and well-kept clothing.

He also looked rather wilted – slouching, ears drooping, a perfect picture of someone who was Not Having A Good Time – and he was scanning the club crowd with an expression somewhere between wistful and envious.

When the music turned to a slow number and the people on the dance floor started pairing up, that expression shifted decidedly toward envious.

A loner at a club, wishing he could be one of the couples… heartbreak, Brandon guessed. Or romantic issues of some kind, anyway. And there was something about the way this new boomer’s gaze lingered… Brandon put that out of his mind. Whatever happened, happened; but here was a good-looking guy who didn’t deserve to feel totally alone. Not on a nice early-autumn evening like this, especially.

(more…)