Today’s snippet, titled “Tabula Rasa”, is a piece I wrote about my PC in Mark’s new (Good) Pathfinder Campaign.
      Be forewarned, there may be mature themes and naughty language below.
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      They sat upon a ridge, waiting.
      Aimsley was gnawing at a hangnail with a pensive furrow to her brow. Cole held Snowblade in his lap and was running his thumb over its razored edge, testing it needlessly. The blade was perfect. Mira crouched behind a large boulder, watching anxiously for Sadie and Korael’s return. Rhiallis pressed her wings tight around her shoulders, grateful for the veil of privacy they afforded.
      Celeste, the seventh member of their troupe, was still with them. Tucked haphazardly into her own enchanted sack which lay in the sandy gravel beside Aimsley.
      The dark here was so much deeper and stranger than dark elsewhere. Rhiallis kept her eyes trained on the skies, trusting her friends to keep watch on the overland routes. There would be more trouble before they reached the area the last reported dragon-and-barbarian attacks had occurred in.
      Always, more trouble.
      They were weary as if they had been travelling weeks instead of days – hours, even – and Rhiallis felt the evil of this place weighing on her heart like a lead ballast. It hurt to even breathe the foetid air, at once hot and cold, moist and dry. Everything was different – wrong somehow. The abyssal energies permeating each particle of air and earth could not be denied out here, as they were back in the city.
      Rhiallis squinted, tilting her head. For a moment, she thought she say something large and dark in the distance and her heart dropped to her feet. Dear Gods, what if that huge bloody spider can fly?
      A heartbeat later, the speck was gone and she flexed her hands, wincing. She had gone so tense at the very thought of the elephantine arachnid airborn, her nails sliced into her palm.
      “…and that’s why nervous paladins wear their gauntlets,” Aimsley said, trying to lighten the mood. “You ought to do something about those. They’re tiny, but any abrasion or laceration is invitation for infection and infestation out here.”
      With a nod that was not accompanied by a smile, though she tried, Rhiallis opened her scroll tube and rummaged through the scrolls. One, she had carried it since leaving the Academy at Graduation in Kenebres – Gods, was it only three months ago? It seems a lifetime… – had been scribed by an old friend and this time, her lips did manage to form a smile. She ran her fingertips over the familiar handwriting, leaving a faint swipe of blood.
      “Soft as you can,” Aimsley whispered. “Hurry now, Rhi.”
      Rhiallis smoothed out the page and sighed. The elf knew how magic worked better than she, but it had been instilled in her repeatedly during her training that one must speak the words in a clear voice, loud as any normal conversation. As she spoke the incantation, Cure Light Wounds, Rhiallis’ voice sounded like a shout on the silent plains.
      “Now you’ve done it,” Cole said, shifting his weight. “Did you have to scream it out?”
      Mira made a face at him, then smiled at Rhiallis. “It wasn’t that loud. I think we’re fine. I don’t see-”
      Her final words were cut off abruptly as something fast and dark hurled itself at her. The hin crashed backwards into the dirt with an undignified squeak. Even as she rolled away and bounced to her feet, both Lockbreaker and Agnes Forthright appeared in her fists.
      “I FIGURED IT OUT!”
      Sadie was sitting on the ground wearing the biggest grin possible for her tiny face. Her hair, such a vivid red hue, whipped across her eyes as a breeze whirled around her and she pushed it away, trying to catch her breath. “No really, guys. I got it. We can save Celeste!”
      “Sadie, we’ve been over-”
      “No, Rhi! Really – I figured it out. We just need Marley!”
      Aimsley and Rhiallis exchanged a glance. The elven druidess who shared Sadie’s life and bed, was a talented healer indeed, but neither of them quite followed the girl’s line of thought.
      “What can she do that I could not?”
      Sadie’s eyes flashed a mischievous look, as if she was fighting back an innuendo or two, then she stood and reached out for Rhiallis’ hand.
      “It is called reincarnation. I’ve seen her do it. She can bring Celeste back.” She paused. “Ish.”
      Mira scratched her cheek. “Will that work?”
      “Yeah! Come on – Aimsley, just teleport to Kenebres and find her and bring her here to us. She’s still down there getting clean soil. Tell her to bring her oils and then you can teleport back. It takes a little bit of time, but not that much. We can have Celeste back – you know, mostly – in no time at all!”
      Aimsley wet her lips and stretched her palms out before her until the knuckles cracked. “It is a valid suggestion. Shall I go? Are we in agreement?”
      Korael was not back yet, scouting ahead a bit, but the others all nodded.
      In a sotto voce, Aimsley incanted those same queer, esoteric words that had landed the four of them in the middle of the Lake of Mists and Veils, and vanished.
      There was nothing to do but wait – and pray that this time, she returned to the correct spot without any incident. Twice, she thought, once in Kenebres, and once here.
      Then, suddenly, she was back. And not alone; Marley stood at her side. The elves were both grave faced. Aimsley silently took a seat beside Rhiallis. The exertion had been considerable. Marley managed to set her bag of delicate oil decanters down just before the hin launched herself into the elven woman’s arms. They embraced, kissed, and Sadie whispered something to her that made Marley’s lips curl up in a fond smile. Rhiallis felt a pang of envy.
      “Let’s lay her out just over here, we’ll anoint the body, and I shall perform the ritual,” Marley said, taking a knee to retrieve her things. “It may take some minutes, but I promise you all, your dear friend will return to you shortly.”
      “Will it be, you know, will it be her?” Korael asked. She had returned in whilst Aimsley was gone, but did not seem clear on the particular of the spell.
      Marley hesitated before answering. “The soul – the spirit – will be Celeste as you knew her. The body…”
      “She could come back as a Bugbear,” Sadie said. “Or a gnoll even. But Marley’s good. She won’t be a goblin or a kobold or anything. Probably not even a gnome. She’ll be in a good, solid new body and we’ll be able to continue on. This will work guys.”
      “Wait,” Cole frowned. “What if she does come back as something terrible? A fucking gnoll? I’d have to put her down again. Or a trogolodyte? Even if it is Celeste, who wants to live with that stench?”
      “We lived with Sardones for awhile.” Mira pulled a face, trying to lighten the mood. “Sardine and oatmeal sandwiches? Really? So gross.”
      “You know what I mean,” Cole said, shaking his head. “We should agree what to do if that does happen. Because if I bet if it was Celeste’s choice, she wouldn’t want to live a single minute as a lizardwoman.”
      “Or a lizardman,” Marley said. “Theoretically, she may return in a male body. There is simply no way to be certain.”
      “But-”
      “But I do seem to have a knack for getting a pleasing body to materialize to host the returning spirit. I wouldn’t worry about her coming back as an orc or anything terrible.”
      “She’ll be fine,” Sadie insisted. “Come on, let’s get this ritual going already!”
      Rhiallis was intrigued by the ritual. Would I want to come back, this way, if I fell? What if I came back as a kobold? Would I be able to – to be me if I were stuck in such a body? Would they kill me or would they hang a sign around my neck: Hello I am a good kobold, do not kill me?
      The ritual began and Marley was chanting in the secret druidic languagemost people never got to hear in their lives. It was quite beautiful, but strange. So… strange. Rhiallis closed her eyes, tuning it out after a moment.
      What if – what if I was brought back as a human? A normal woman. I could … I could retire from this life and marry James, and maybe even- have a family. Tears sprang to her eyes at the very idea. Yet deep in her heart emerged another thought. But, if I were to fall, I would surely go to Nirvana, if that is where Iomedae’s followers find themselves in the afterlife. And there, would I be reunited with Viggo? Would I give up eternity with him for a chance at children, here?
      “…Celeste?”
      Sadie’s voice interrupted her morbid thoughts and she leaned forward, startled to see a second body laid out beside the blackened corpse. Human, she thought, approving, as she critically examined the new form of her friend. Much shorter. Half-a-foot shorter than me, at least, and so thin. She seems waifish, almost. And blonde? I don’t imagine she’ll appreciate that. But look at that – a Kellid complexion, warm and tan, but not a single scar, no old injuries to twinge her in the cold weather as she ages. It is unmarred. Flawless. Perfect.
      “Celeste?” Mira was standing at the foot of the bier and reached out to tap a naked toe. “Celeste? Are you awake?”
      The woman’s eyes fluttered open and she winced. “Mira? What-? Where? What happened?”
      Marley and Sadie wrapped a blanket around her nude body and Korael handed her a cup of wine that Aimsley gently warmed with a cantrip. Mira was telling her everything that had happened, gently as possible when it came to her horrific end, and Cole offered Snowblood back to her graciously.
      Rhiallis clasped her hands together, bowing her head. “Iomedae, blessed Inheritor, you have guided our friend back to us against all odds and we thank you. We thank you, and we will work harder still, in the coming days, to serve you well.”
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Note: Image is “King Jagiello Statue Central” by (Mulligand) from SXC.hu; edited by me