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I will be working on a new creative writing project taking influences from Marvel & Dr. Who, but with main theme heavily using elements of Dungeons & Dragons, Pokemon & Star Wars to truly create a crazy world.
I am currently working on building a few key characters, but if you would be interesting in having a character involved in this adventure - you can send me private message with information regarding to:
- fantasy race
- fantasy vocation / lifestyle choice
- favourite base level Pokemon [original 150]
- good guy, guy, something else guy
- and anything else
If there was one thing that Harsten hated more than anything it was Giants, which often created an internal conflict considering his one father had been a Giant. As one would expect, self-loathing was one of Harsten's favourite pastimes, which had kept him preoccupied for most of his teenage years. The taller he became the more valued he became to the settlement, with the Mayor of Hartsvale having made him one of the Wardens as soon as he was sixteen winters old. As much as everyone was kind to him, Harsten knew that all it took was one mistake and they would cast him out like someone suffering from the Southern Measles. As a Warden, especially when he was on duty there was very rarely any trouble - even the animals of the wild knew better than to contest with someone over ten feet tall that had the stretch of a very well kept, groomed and washed giant. Being half of something was very rarely something a beast would consider. Harsten’s sheer size, normally resulting in lonesome patrols for even traders, seemed to want to avoid interactions with him whether it was out of fear or prejudice.
So Harsten would be surprised, when a man riding a cart being pulled by two horses would approach the western gate and come to a gentle stop as it approached him.The rider would exit, the cart and walk at a slow pace which wouldn’t be surprising when Harsten would notice that every single hair on the man’s head and beard where a dark grey colour with distinguished eyebrows that only came with age. The man would call out, with an accent that Harsten didn’t recognise.
“Good tidings Master Giant, would you kindly inform me if this is the settlement of Ascore?”
Harsten couldn’t help but feel bad for the old man, which in itself was a strange feeling because normally feeling bad was a feeling he solely reserved for himself. Well most of the time anyway.Somewhere right down in the bottom of his body, his toes perhaps there was some room for worrying about other people.
“You’ve travelled too far north old man. This is the western gate of Hartsvale, but I wouldn’t suggest you travelling south until you’ve at least had a good night sleep and restocked supplies.”
The elder man smiled, as he pulled up a pipe but rather than light it with a match, clicked his fingers together and fire appeared from it. Magic users were rare, but nothing was as rare as a half giant so Harsten didn’t question it. Although, his initial reaction upon seeing the conjuration was enough to elicit a response from the stranger.
“Not many magic users in these parts I am guessing then?”
“Most with the talents leave the settlement as soon as they are old enough, there are some younglings with gifts but no one of seniority no.”
“A shame, it's always pleasant to converse with one that sees the world through a different lens than the common folk, no offence.”
Harsten wasn’t sure whether to feel offended or not. He had spent most of his life wanting to be normal, wishing he was of regular size and didn’t stick out like a sore thumb. And with no control of his large frame, he let out a chuckle. Something he hadn’t done in over a decade because he had never felt the need to laugh. His laugh boomed around the nearby trees enough to scare all the birds out of it, which had long since grown to being comfortable around Harsten’s figure.
“Something I say is funny, Master Giant?”
“Well considering I am a Bastard son of a giant with no name other than my first, I think you are the first person I’ve ever met to consider me as common.”
The stranger took another inhale of his pipe before blowing out a smoke ring and then what looked like a large bird that flew through the ring. Harsten couldn’t help but look on in wonder.
“You don’t like living here?
“How did you guess?”
“Call it Wizard’s intuition. So I am guessing if you could be anywhere else in the world right now you would take that option?”
“I have a duty as a Warden, even if I wanted to travel my duties would prevent me from doing so. An oath was made, and I intend to keep it.”
“Avoidance to answer the question, is not an answer Master Giant. If you could be anywhere in the world right now, would you be there?”
Harsten paused for a moment. And then nodded his head.
“I suppose I would.”
The wizard smiled for a moment before walking back to his cart as shouted.
“Well Master Giant, if you can open the gates and allow me entry into this little kingdom hidden in the north, then perhaps you can take on the role of my personal chaperone and I can convince you to join me on the road when I depart. What should I call you Master Giant?”
“Harsten. They call me Harsten.”
The elderly man smiled.
“A pleasure to meet you Harsten, my name is... “
Before he could finish his sentence a strange creature appeared from behind the canvas covering the cart and locked eyes with Harsten. And for what felt like an entire day, but was only a few seconds Harsten felt a calmness he hadn’t felt since he was a child. Just looking at this strange creature made him feel warmth.
“What is it?”
The elderly man smiled again.
“Take me to somewhere that serves hot food and I will answer all your questions.”
Lithrael knew one thing about the city of Waterdeep, despite it being filled with undesirables, criminals, thieves and murders alike - and that was just those of Nobility that lived in the Castle Ward, this was a city where someone with the right about of motivation and determination could make themselves incredibly rich. The problem with acquired wealth though, was as soon as someone had money in their pocket everyone else wanted a piece of the action. Money could foul the best of friendships, let alone partnerships based on profit alone.
Lithrael knew that if she was to accomplish what she intended was going to need a crew, and like any good crew they were going to need to be tested with a trial run. And like any good trial run, you always worked with more than you needed so you could get rid of the dead weight. Lithrael had arranged a meeting with a man known as ‘The Chemist’ who despite being seen as nothing more than a simple herbalist used mostly by druids within the city, was actually the go to man in regards sourcing like minded individuals for various jobs irrespective of the practise of a particular job being legal or not. He was a man who was an avid fisherman, and so they had agreed to meet by the Docks not far away from Ilmater’s Safe Harbour, which was a soup kitchen that served the poor. As part of her cover, Lithrael brought a fishing rod with her and sat down a few feet away from her man, being the first to speak.
“A fine morning for casting out the line.”
“The Chemist” was a Triton male, and although the sea-folk were not an uncommon sight in the Dock Ward they were more likely to be seen as part of a ship’s crew rather than one of the locals. He was dressed in fine garments, and even wore a jewel encrusted eye patch that covered his left eye which for whatever reason had been lost or damaged in his youth.
“As good as anytime, especially with calm waters such as these. Would you care for some bait?”
“The Chemist” offered her a tin which she took, but allowed five gold coins to leave the clutches of her hand - the payment for this initial conversation. Make sure to keep up pretences she pulled a handful of mealworms out and attached them to the hook of her rod before casting it out into the water.
“Kind thanks for the bait.”
“No problem friend, I always bring plenty with me.”
For the next hour, Lithrael was forced to sit in silence doing her best to fish. Something she had never been good at as a child and had continued to be bad at as an adult, hunting with a bow was something she was much better suited to. On the other hand, “The Chemist” had filled his basket with fish, with almost half a dozen fat looking fish present. To add insult to injury, he had actually chosen to throw a couple of fish back that had displeased him. Eventually though, “The Chemist” had folded his rod in half, before covering his basket with a cloth and standing himself up as he turned to look down at Lithrael.
“I was planning on preparing this fish, I don’t suppose you are hungry?”
