Lady Amalthea of The Last Unicorn (Unicorn & Human form). This is one of my favorite childhood animated movies (The reason why I like Unicorns and was VERY PLEASED when playing AD&D 2nd editon, my female half-elf  Fighter/Mage/Cleric Alis Greenleef got to partner/befriend as a rider with one.

#bookreview Where Dreams Descend Janella Angeles Plot: Kallia is a powerful magician. She is a showgirl at a shadowy night club, jewel of the night. But she wants more than a mask, a show where nobody knows her name. She wants glory. In a world where being a female stage magician is not only frowned upon, but also dangerous! A chance to shine comes as Spectaculore, a magician show in the city of Glorian. But in taking it, she flees from one cage only to be locked in another. Fleeing from a very powerful magician whom she can not trust anymore, to a new mysterious magician, who holds as much secrets as her. Her future depends on the show, but it may also be the one thing that will ruin her life... My Take: I am in absolute love with this series. I read a lot of negative review about it, and I was really scared to read it. But this proved to be my fabourite read of the year so far. Janella's writing is beautiful, magical. She took time with the story, thickening the mystery with every chapter. All of the mystery will unfold in the second book. I like this kind of style. I loved the slow building romance, like other books it was not instant heat and falling in love with just a glance. It felt more real, complicated. I am starting to read the second book right away. Can not wait to see how Kallia survives!! #wheredreamsdescend #kingdomofcard #magicalfantasy #magicianbooks #booksofinstagram #janellaangeles #fantasybooks https://www.instagram.com/p/CfitCYPr1iu/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

So lockdown stopped us from seeing Onward in the cinema but now we finally got to see it, and it is magical! 🧙‍♂️🧙‍♀️#magicalfantasy #PixarOnward #DisneyPlus (at Portishead, North Somerset) https://www.instagram.com/p/CF67CMLDdnWv2CzGkrLFcjx6NT5UZs65G5ZfMI0/?igshid=19g4g5rjism96

Chapter 27 “What was he all upset about?” asked Talvar from the other cell. “Seems our little bat has been fucking with the guards,” commented Mat casually. “Fucking with the guards? He’s eating them,” growled Devon. “Well, it’s a form of fucking with, isn’t it?” “No, not really.” “How do you have a minion?” asks Talvar. Mat looked back over his shoulder at Devon, who shrugged. They both knew he’d fucked up. “We saved it as a baby and haven’t been able to shake it since. If you want my opinion, it’s more Devon’s than mine. I think it just likes the fact I feed it.” “And its killing guards? I won’t ask what you were feeding it,” adds Talvar before going quiet. Since their imprisonment, Devon had been watching Mat to see how he was going to react. He could see his friend slowly working his way through his standard phases, anger, depression, more anger, and ultimately some version of acceptance. At times he was growling and cursing at the guards. While others he was meditating and working with Darth or in the corner sulking. When he was in a better mood, usually after having eaten and had wine, he’d be dancing naked at the bars, sometimes with or without an erection, just to scandalize the passersby. There’d been several signs the real Mat was about to break through, maybe this time permanently. They’d been here for months and were still mistaking this for a fantasy game and not their real lives, which their current situation had proven could be dangerous. Naked dancing aside, Devon could see Mat beginning to review the world with that cold analytical detachment of his. Usually, he’d see this as a positive step, but then again, they were still locked in a cage, and his friend was pissed about that. He’d watch from the back of their cell as Mat poked at the safeguards and magic dampening, looking for flaws and weak spots. Devon wasn’t sure what his friend had learned, but the random cries of surprise or shock from out in the compound had all the earmarks of Mats shenanigans. Dinner came that night as it had the previous days, but there is something different this time. The food had always been good, well to Devon it was, not so much for Mat since there was no meat. Every day as their servers left, he’d yell at them about that steak they owed him. Tonight though, not only was their more food, still no meat, but the size of the wineskins were also larger, probably by double. “Something’s up,” commented Mat. To confirm their suspicions, they heard from the cell next door, “Well guys, this is it. This is a last meal if I’ve ever seen one. Bet the trials tomorrow.” “But, it’s early.” “I was guessing based solely on what I’ve overheard. It seems I was wrong. Who knows the moon could be full tomorrow. It seems pretty close tonight.” “Great,” growled Mat as he wolfed down his food, ignoring the wine, and quickly went to his spot and closed his eyes. He was reaching out to his bat. While Mat was a zombie in the corner, Devon spent his time working to remember spells he knew but didn’t know, casting them at the cell’s walls. As long as he didn’t try anything on a creature, he was fine. Occasionally he’d forget that little caveat and attempt to use a control spell or something on one of the many small creatures that scurried by their cage. It only happened twice, and each time he found himself doubled over in pain. Devon also spent a lot of time studying Mat. He’d watch the facial movements, the way his body would sway or move while he was in the trance. At times he could tell he was riding along with Darth as they flew across the jungle. It was Devon’s turn to growl, why Mat got to interact with Darth, but he couldn’t communicate with anything didn’t seem fair. As far as they could figure out it was because Darth was for all practical purposes, dead. Therefore, the soul or whatever it was within him was actually part of Mat. He wasn’t possessing another being as much as contacting an extension of himself. Standing, Devon went to the toilet and pulled down his tights as he wrinkled his nose at their state and peed into the dark hole they called a toilet. Even when doing something as simple as urinating, he still marveled at the feel of his limp cock when he touched it. When he’d been female, he’d played with a few, but they’d always been on their way to becoming hard. He’d never really gotten to study one. Now, with it being his, he had more uninterrupted time with a live specimen. He chuckled. The way they had their own mind, like now, he could feel the little guy wanting to wake up just because Devon was focusing on him. Often that was more annoying than useful since he couldn’t control the time or place very well. But what he’d never grown tired of was the feel of the skin along the shaft when it was soft. It was like silk. How such a delicate and warm skin could transform into a rough, rigid shaft amazed him. Shaking, he forced the semi-erect cock back in his tights. He could feel it considering standing up and hijacking his internal concentrations, distracting him from just about anything else until he’d seen to the little guy’s needs. Who would’ve thought cocks could be such a selfish taskmaster? Finding his spot Devon curled up in a ball and stared across at Mat. He’d refused to say what he’d been planning, but then Devon was pretty sure he didn’t really want to know. Already people were dying, and this was only the pregame as Mat called it. He awoke with a start the next morning. He could hear yelling. Looking over, he saw Mat wake up. “Does this place always start the day with drama?” barked Mat adding at full volume, “damn people, shut the fuck up. Condemned man trying to sleep.” “You might want to get up, somethings happening next door.” “In Talvar’s cell?” asked Mat as he hopped to his feet, rubbing his eyes. “Yea.” Hurrying over, they crowded the door, trying to see out. Neither could see the cage itself, but they could hear agitated soldiers yelling and issuing orders. “The boss is here,” noted Devon as Lok came around the corner. Mat tried not to laugh, but the guy looked too much like a pissed off cow. They watched the Druid leader approach and then vanish out of eyeshot only to appear a few seconds later. “I supposed you don’t know what happened here?” “It’s not a matter of if we know. It’s a matter of whether we’d tell you, and that answer is a resounding no,” growled Mat. “We don’t know anything. To be honest, we don’t even know what we don’t know. What’s happened,” asked Devon shaking his head at Mat. “Oh My God, he’s not dead, is he? Did you kill him in the night?” “No, it appears your friend has escaped.” “What? Can the locks be picked? Why didn’t we know that?” barked Devon as he turned to his friend. “Trust me; the locks can’t be picked. I’ve been trying for two days,” answered Mat. Realizing Lok was still there, he adds, “I mean, if I were going to be dishonest, I would have, not have, already tried several times during our stay.” “You’ve tried 22 times. Remember, we’re having you watched.” “And yet, someone escaped,” said Mat flatly. “How well do you trust that guard?” Mat smiled internally, trying hard to keep it off his face. He watched the nugget of doubt take seed behind Lok’s eyes as he turned and barked for the guard to be brought to him. “That was mean.” “I know, but fuck’em. Chaos is our friend at this point. If they start to mistrust each other, it can only work in our favor,” added Mat with a smirk, clearly delighted with himself. “Good strategy, enjoy it while you have a chance. I’m moving your trial up to later today, so prepare yourself. You can now measure your life in hours.” “Why are you doing this? We haven’t don’t anything to merit death and yet from the very onset you’ve had your mind set on it,” asked Devon. Leaning in close Lok gave them a vicious smile. “Because you’re a disruption. I’m still not sure if you’re really with the Xirians. They like to lurk in the shadows, and if you are with them, you need to be dead. We don’t need their influence disturbing what we’ve built.” “You mean what you’ve built,” hissed Mat. “Whatever. I’ll tell you this I tend to think you are with the Xirians. No one would pretend to be a member of that sect and be this calm. So if you are, then we need to pull that weed before it spreads. If by chance you’re not, then I’m doing you a favor. Because, when they find out two troublemakers are passing themselves off as one of them, they will come for you. Either way, your dead,” said Lok as he turned and walked off. “Add this to our list of fuck-ups.” “This one being?” “Talking strategy in front of the enemy. Probably not wise.” “Clearly. On the upside, we all but confirmed the sect if real and learned something about them in the process. A disturbing something, but something none the less,” added Devon. “Yea, well, unless one of us can come up with a way to escape, it’s not going to matter.” “I thought you had that worked out?” “We’ll see.” Throughout the morning and into the afternoon, there was a steady parade of guards and other assorted people visiting the escaped cell. Eventually, even that stopped, and things appeared to return to normal. For them, breakfast came and went, then lunch and still they heard nothing. “How’s Darth?” asked Devon when he couldn’t stand the silence any longer. Mat had been trying to figure out how Talvar had escaped. At first, he thought it was merely a lock, but when Devon inspected it, he realized the door was also magically sealed. Even if they’d gotten it picked, it wouldn’t have mattered. “He’s ready.” “For?” “Element of surprise. Remember this morning, let’s not make that mistake again.” As evening approached and the time came for dinner, they started to wonder if maybe Lok had just been fucking with them. Devon noticed the moon sitting low on the horizon, “It’s full.” Standing at the door, he used a hearing spell on himself. He’d done it several times to collect information from anyone talking within range. It hadn’t been very useful, but tonight it paid off. He’d learned how the escape had happened. It seemed the guards who oversaw the prisoners, and select other people like Lok wore enchanted badges allowing them access to the cells and other secure sites. One of the guards had been found just before lunch; he’d been dead for a while. From what they could glean from the conversation, Talvar was broken out, and the escape had all the hallmarks of the Rogues guild. “Seems we should’ve gone there first, maybe they wouldn’t have left us,” commented Devon. “Fuckers. He knew we were here,” growled Mat as he went to the door in times to see guards marching towards them. “I think we’re up.” “Gawd, what are we going to do? Are we going peacefully?” “You are, I’m not. I need them to feel threatened; it throws them off their game and keeps their eyes on me, where they need to be,” answered Mat. When the guards opened the door, Devon greeted them as he walks out, “Gentlemen.” When no one else emerged, the guards peeked through the door to find Mat is standing with a big grin on his face. “Since you’ve already tried, convicted, and sentenced me to death, I might as well go down having done what I’m accused of doing, and you boys are it. Come on in and let’s see who gets to walk with me to the trial.” The standoff lasted about as long as Devon had hoped it would. The most extended section of the little drama was the guard’s reluctance even to enter the cell. It appeared their magic was dampened as well, poor planning on their part, Devon thought. When they did go in, he couldn’t see what was happening, but he heard the grunts, curses, and cries of pain until finally Mat flew through the door and landed on his back, blood trickling from his nose. Everyone waited until the first guard, and then the other stepped out. Both were nursing an impressive array of injuries, one bleeding pretty severely from a laceration above his eye. Standing and brushing off his tunic, Mat smiled. “Well look at that, you both get to go. Come along; we mustn’t keep them waiting.” As Devon fell in beside him, Mat whispered, “This whole bullshit trial’s timing couldn’t be better.” At first, Devon was confused until he realized the sun was setting. Read the full article

Chapter 27 “What was he all upset about?” asked Talvar from the other cell. “Seems our little bat has been fucking with the guards,” commented Mat casually. “Fucking with the guards? He’s eating them,” growled Devon. “Well, it’s a form of fucking with, isn’t it?” “No, not really.” “How do you have a minion?” asks Talvar. Mat looked back over his shoulder at Devon, who shrugged. They both knew he’d fucked up. “We saved it as a baby and haven’t been able to shake it since. If you want my opinion, it’s more Devon’s than mine. I think it just likes the fact I feed it.” “And its killing guards? I won’t ask what you were feeding it,” adds Talvar before going quiet. Since their imprisonment, Devon had been watching Mat to see how he was going to react. He could see his friend slowly working his way through his standard phases, anger, depression, more anger, and ultimately some version of acceptance. At times he was growling and cursing at the guards. While others he was meditating and working with Darth or in the corner sulking. When he was in a better mood, usually after having eaten and had wine, he’d be dancing naked at the bars, sometimes with or without an erection, just to scandalize the passersby. There’d been several signs the real Mat was about to break through, maybe this time permanently. They’d been here for months and were still mistaking this for a fantasy game and not their real lives, which their current situation had proven could be dangerous. Naked dancing aside, Devon could see Mat beginning to review the world with that cold analytical detachment of his. Usually, he’d see this as a positive step, but then again, they were still locked in a cage, and his friend was pissed about that. He’d watch from the back of their cell as Mat poked at the safeguards and magic dampening, looking for flaws and weak spots. Devon wasn’t sure what his friend had learned, but the random cries of surprise or shock from out in the compound had all the earmarks of Mats shenanigans. Dinner came that night as it had the previous days, but there is something different this time. The food had always been good, well to Devon it was, not so much for Mat since there was no meat. Every day as their servers left, he’d yell at them about that steak they owed him. Tonight though, not only was their more food, still no meat, but the size of the wineskins were also larger, probably by double. “Something’s up,” commented Mat. To confirm their suspicions, they heard from the cell next door, “Well guys, this is it. This is a last meal if I’ve ever seen one. Bet the trials tomorrow.” “But, it’s early.” “I was guessing based solely on what I’ve overheard. It seems I was wrong. Who knows the moon could be full tomorrow. It seems pretty close tonight.” “Great,” growled Mat as he wolfed down his food, ignoring the wine, and quickly went to his spot and closed his eyes. He was reaching out to his bat. While Mat was a zombie in the corner, Devon spent his time working to remember spells he knew but didn’t know, casting them at the cell’s walls. As long as he didn’t try anything on a creature, he was fine. Occasionally he’d forget that little caveat and attempt to use a control spell or something on one of the many small creatures that scurried by their cage. It only happened twice, and each time he found himself doubled over in pain. Devon also spent a lot of time studying Mat. He’d watch the facial movements, the way his body would sway or move while he was in the trance. At times he could tell he was riding along with Darth as they flew across the jungle. It was Devon’s turn to growl, why Mat got to interact with Darth, but he couldn’t communicate with anything didn’t seem fair. As far as they could figure out it was because Darth was for all practical purposes, dead. Therefore, the soul or whatever it was within him was actually part of Mat. He wasn’t possessing another being as much as contacting an extension of himself. Standing, Devon went to the toilet and pulled down his tights as he wrinkled his nose at their state and peed into the dark hole they called a toilet. Even when doing something as simple as urinating, he still marveled at the feel of his limp cock when he touched it. When he’d been female, he’d played with a few, but they’d always been on their way to becoming hard. He’d never really gotten to study one. Now, with it being his, he had more uninterrupted time with a live specimen. He chuckled. The way they had their own mind, like now, he could feel the little guy wanting to wake up just because Devon was focusing on him. Often that was more annoying than useful since he couldn’t control the time or place very well. But what he’d never grown tired of was the feel of the skin along the shaft when it was soft. It was like silk. How such a delicate and warm skin could transform into a rough, rigid shaft amazed him. Shaking, he forced the semi-erect cock back in his tights. He could feel it considering standing up and hijacking his internal concentrations, distracting him from just about anything else until he’d seen to the little guy’s needs. Who would’ve thought cocks could be such a selfish taskmaster? Finding his spot Devon curled up in a ball and stared across at Mat. He’d refused to say what he’d been planning, but then Devon was pretty sure he didn’t really want to know. Already people were dying, and this was only the pregame as Mat called it. He awoke with a start the next morning. He could hear yelling. Looking over, he saw Mat wake up. “Does this place always start the day with drama?” barked Mat adding at full volume, “damn people, shut the fuck up. Condemned man trying to sleep.” “You might want to get up, somethings happening next door.” “In Talvar’s cell?” asked Mat as he hopped to his feet, rubbing his eyes. “Yea.” Hurrying over, they crowded the door, trying to see out. Neither could see the cage itself, but they could hear agitated soldiers yelling and issuing orders. “The boss is here,” noted Devon as Lok came around the corner. Mat tried not to laugh, but the guy looked too much like a pissed off cow. They watched the Druid leader approach and then vanish out of eyeshot only to appear a few seconds later. “I supposed you don’t know what happened here?” “It’s not a matter of if we know. It’s a matter of whether we’d tell you, and that answer is a resounding no,” growled Mat. “We don’t know anything. To be honest, we don’t even know what we don’t know. What’s happened,” asked Devon shaking his head at Mat. “Oh My God, he’s not dead, is he? Did you kill him in the night?” “No, it appears your friend has escaped.” “What? Can the locks be picked? Why didn’t we know that?” barked Devon as he turned to his friend. “Trust me; the locks can’t be picked. I’ve been trying for two days,” answered Mat. Realizing Lok was still there, he adds, “I mean, if I were going to be dishonest, I would have, not have, already tried several times during our stay.” “You’ve tried 22 times. Remember, we’re having you watched.” “And yet, someone escaped,” said Mat flatly. “How well do you trust that guard?” Mat smiled internally, trying hard to keep it off his face. He watched the nugget of doubt take seed behind Lok’s eyes as he turned and barked for the guard to be brought to him. “That was mean.” “I know, but fuck’em. Chaos is our friend at this point. If they start to mistrust each other, it can only work in our favor,” added Mat with a smirk, clearly delighted with himself. “Good strategy, enjoy it while you have a chance. I’m moving your trial up to later today, so prepare yourself. You can now measure your life in hours.” “Why are you doing this? We haven’t don’t anything to merit death and yet from the very onset you’ve had your mind set on it,” asked Devon. Leaning in close Lok gave them a vicious smile. “Because you’re a disruption. I’m still not sure if you’re really with the Xirians. They like to lurk in the shadows, and if you are with them, you need to be dead. We don’t need their influence disturbing what we’ve built.” “You mean what you’ve built,” hissed Mat. “Whatever. I’ll tell you this I tend to think you are with the Xirians. No one would pretend to be a member of that sect and be this calm. So if you are, then we need to pull that weed before it spreads. If by chance you’re not, then I’m doing you a favor. Because, when they find out two troublemakers are passing themselves off as one of them, they will come for you. Either way, your dead,” said Lok as he turned and walked off. “Add this to our list of fuck-ups.” “This one being?” “Talking strategy in front of the enemy. Probably not wise.” “Clearly. On the upside, we all but confirmed the sect if real and learned something about them in the process. A disturbing something, but something none the less,” added Devon. “Yea, well, unless one of us can come up with a way to escape, it’s not going to matter.” “I thought you had that worked out?” “We’ll see.” Throughout the morning and into the afternoon, there was a steady parade of guards and other assorted people visiting the escaped cell. Eventually, even that stopped, and things appeared to return to normal. For them, breakfast came and went, then lunch and still they heard nothing. “How’s Darth?” asked Devon when he couldn’t stand the silence any longer. Mat had been trying to figure out how Talvar had escaped. At first, he thought it was merely a lock, but when Devon inspected it, he realized the door was also magically sealed. Even if they’d gotten it picked, it wouldn’t have mattered. “He’s ready.” “For?” “Element of surprise. Remember this morning, let’s not make that mistake again.” As evening approached and the time came for dinner, they started to wonder if maybe Lok had just been fucking with them. Devon noticed the moon sitting low on the horizon, “It’s full.” Standing at the door, he used a hearing spell on himself. He’d done it several times to collect information from anyone talking within range. It hadn’t been very useful, but tonight it paid off. He’d learned how the escape had happened. It seemed the guards who oversaw the prisoners, and select other people like Lok wore enchanted badges allowing them access to the cells and other secure sites. One of the guards had been found just before lunch; he’d been dead for a while. From what they could glean from the conversation, Talvar was broken out, and the escape had all the hallmarks of the Rogues guild. “Seems we should’ve gone there first, maybe they wouldn’t have left us,” commented Devon. “Fuckers. He knew we were here,” growled Mat as he went to the door in times to see guards marching towards them. “I think we’re up.” “Gawd, what are we going to do? Are we going peacefully?” “You are, I’m not. I need them to feel threatened; it throws them off their game and keeps their eyes on me, where they need to be,” answered Mat. When the guards opened the door, Devon greeted them as he walks out, “Gentlemen.” When no one else emerged, the guards peeked through the door to find Mat is standing with a big grin on his face. “Since you’ve already tried, convicted, and sentenced me to death, I might as well go down having done what I’m accused of doing, and you boys are it. Come on in and let’s see who gets to walk with me to the trial.” The standoff lasted about as long as Devon had hoped it would. The most extended section of the little drama was the guard’s reluctance even to enter the cell. It appeared their magic was dampened as well, poor planning on their part, Devon thought. When they did go in, he couldn’t see what was happening, but he heard the grunts, curses, and cries of pain until finally Mat flew through the door and landed on his back, blood trickling from his nose. Everyone waited until the first guard, and then the other stepped out. Both were nursing an impressive array of injuries, one bleeding pretty severely from a laceration above his eye. Standing and brushing off his tunic, Mat smiled. “Well look at that, you both get to go. Come along; we mustn’t keep them waiting.” As Devon fell in beside him, Mat whispered, “This whole bullshit trial’s timing couldn’t be better.” At first, Devon was confused until he realized the sun was setting. Read the full article

Chapter 22 Burf was true to his word. At noon there came a knock. When Devon opened the door he found several packages stacked just outside. “Looks like our clothes have arrived,” announced Devon in a loud voice as he set the packages on the shoddy sofa. Mat came out to find Devon pulling on the Druid robes. “I thought you gave up dresses.” Wide-eyed Mat walked around his friend as Devon tugged and pulled uncomfortably at the outfit, “That’s something.” “Yea I’m not going to like this,” growled Devon as he saw a note attached to one of the other packages: “I’ve included two outfits since you might not want to wear the more ostentatious robes all the time. My source tells me it’d probably be frowned on by the more stuffy Druids if you present in the less formal outfit. Though the travelin clothes might displease some, trust me I’ve seen countless explorers come through my tavern, and the less formal clothes are more the rule than the exception. He suggested, if you’re challenged to rebuff the person, look down your nose and say, “do you respect your craft so little as to disrespect your robes?” or something like that. It wouldn’t be uncommon for a high-ranking member of any profession to put on an air of superiority when challenged. It will also help keep people at arm’s length, which is what you want, I’m guessing. On both cloaks, the traveling and the formal is a seal, I had them copy one from a secret organization which is rumored to exist, but no one knows if it really does. They are called “The Xirians.” It’s very obscure and thus people will tend to not question it for fear of showing their ignorance. Good luck. Burf Opening the second package Devon found tights which were thick but as soft as anything he’d ever worn. A medium v-collar green tunic with golden brocade embroidered around the cuffs, collar, and hem. A really nice pair of lace-up boots, which like the tights were in a darker green. “Oh, this is better,” smiled Devon. Lastly, in the bottom of the pack were two full-length cloaks, each held a seal he had never seen before. Looking over at Mat, “The Xirians huh, well that sounds vague enough. What did you get?” pointing to a large package he’d drug in and left by the door. Mat opened his to find a set of robes as well. Where Devon’s had been very ornate, Mat’s were more basic if you called a full-length black robe with sweeping arms embroidered in golden dragons plain. With a high collar and v neck front, Mat actually nodded his approval. Inside as well was a note:             As you will see, the same crest is on the chest of your robe as is on the Druids. I also had them embroidered in gold, the dragon, which is featured prominently in the crest of The Xirians. This will mark you as high ranking, as to your abilities. The color, unlike with Devons is significant, being dressed in black marks you as a practitioner of dark magic, the actual field of study of a mage is rarely divulged willingly. So whatever your choice, this will cause them to have a bit of fear, which having known you for the short time I have, seems fitting. I also had the tailor add in shielded sheaths in both the arms and down the back for your daggers. They will keep the metal from touching your skin, which I’m told is essential in some magics. They’re well-hidden, as you can see. Burf Looking up, Mat added, “that was simple, and my robe actually looks good.” “Yea it does. You can also hide your hooves if that becomes an issue, which I’m not sure will ever be needed.” “Knowing people someone somewhere will hate those who are different, and I’ll have to kill them,” smirked Mat as he threw his robe on the table and walked back into his room to dress. “Time to get dressed; let’s go check you in at the Druids.” Looking back over his shoulder, “I guess I wear my normal clothes as a rouge. Let me get dressed, and then we’ll see if I have to kill someone before dinner. Never gotten to kill a tree hugger, though I’ve wanted to. This could be fun. Remember, be aloof.” When they made it down to the inn, they found it busy but not crowded. When Burf noticed them, he gave an exaggerated look up and down at their clothes and nodded his approval. “Just as I thought they look very appropriate. That’ll be 17 gold, by the way.” “Wait, what?” asked Devon. “The gold we gave him was solely for his service and not expenses if I were to guess,” remarked Mat. “See, this one gets it.” “Can we pay you when we get back?” asked Mat. “Oh yea, no worry, I’ll put it on your tab,” explained Buff. Mat noticed the barkeep watching something. Following his eyes, he realized Burf was watching Devon watch someone else. “Who’s that guy? He’s sexy as fuck,” asked Mat. “He’s one of the rent boys, not one of the more popular ones.” “Why?” asked Devon, not taking his eyes off the guy. “He’s a bit odd.” “Odd, how,” asked Mat. “Most people think he is touched, but in actuality, he is smarter than a whip and slightly off-center with his humor.” “Well, he is cute…” remarked Devon as he shook his head, “that’s enough sightseeing for now, let’s get this over with.” Burf raised an eyebrow as his eyes shifted between Devon, the boy and finally to Mat, “You wantin to say something there?” “Yea, have that one come up to our room tonight after we get back,” answered Mat quietly as he watched Devon work his way through the room. “If you get back,” corrected Burf. “Well, if that happens, then we’re all screwed.” “True, do you want him for a couple of hours or longer. He’s 35 silver for two hours.” “How much for the night?” “Two gold should cover it?” “I’ll give you three, make sure he is fed, bathed, and send him up with a couple of bottles of the good wine…” leaning in closer Mat added, “…it’s been a while for him and I want to do it right.” “Good friend you are, I’ll handle those details, you two just live through the Druids.” “Thanks, see you soon,” said Mat as he slapped the bar and rushed across the room to catch up with Devon who had just looked back to see where his friend was. “What was that about?” asked Devon when Mat caught up. “I was just ordering take out for tonight.” “You didn’t?” “Oh yes, I did. Let’s get this meet and greet out of the way so you can eat,” laughed Mat as they headed out the door. Almost as soon as they stepped out, they froze in their tracks. This was the first day in this new city. Sure, they’d spent the night, drank with its residents but it was still controlled, safe and confined. Today they stood in the city itself, in daylight, and it was anything but controlled, safe, or confined. It was a city and like any city, they could feel the energy it contained. The streets were full of creatures of all shapes and sizes going about their daily lives, greetings people, shopping and doing what people do in a familiar hometown. Smiling, they looked at each other. “I wonder if this will ever stop being fucking amazing?” asked Mat. “I hope not. I like this feeling. By the way, do you remember the way to the gate?” asked Devon. “I think it’s this way, we were running remember?” laughed Mat. Together they made their way through the city, already wishing they’d gotten an earlier start. “Look over here! We have to come back to this one,” barked Devon as he peered through a window. “Damn right we do,” agreed Mat as he tore himself away from a window. Surprisingly he’d been the one to start rubbernecking first. He’d found vendors focusing in the dark arts, then a clothing shop with a more gothic feel and finally one selling weapons specific to his line of work. Devon, on the other hand, had found several bookstores they both needed to visit. “We’ll never get there at this rate. Let’s get this done and tomorrow we can spend some time in town,” urged Devon as he too forced himself to return his attention to their reason for being out. His nerves were starting to get to him. “If we’re still alive, which Burf doesn’t seem to hold much confidence of.” “We’ll see, I can be diplomatic if I need to be. It can’t be that hard, or people wouldn’t visit the town due to the bullshit,” said Devon as they started walking again. “I wanted people and boy did I get them. Did you see the minotaur?” asked Mat. “Yup, he was with the fawn. Did you see how she looked at you?” As they strolled down the main road towards the gate Mat pointed out several examples, “I’m starting to understand this uniforms thing. Look at that one, he’s clearly a mage or cleric, with those long robes. There, that guy, he’s a rouge if I’ve ever seen one, and there’s another. He just lifted something from that lady’s basket. Did you see that?” Devon looked where his friend was pointing then shook his head. “Yea, he was good and really fast. Still all these people in clothes of their profession.” “You don’t like it do you?” asked Devon. “No, I don’t, thank you. I, or for that matter anyone, doesn’t need to be broadcasting their talents. Already I’m glad we’re making this trip, I’m not dressing like everyone else, that’s just stupid. The city fathers want it so they can see what they're up against, well I’m the hidden soldier they won’t see coming. A rouge should look like every other person. You see someone dressed in black, their face covered, holding a dagger in a dark alley coming up behind you, guess what you’re first thought’s going to be “Oh shit a rouge.” That’s bullshit.” Devon loved it when Mat got all wound up; he could rave for hours about something only to end up saying, “Oh well,” and moving on. It was one of his best features, he gets upset, bitches and then gets over it just as quickly. Devon noticed Mat kept looking at him as they wove in and out of the crowded street, there were no sidewalks as such. “What?” “This is a discussion, not a lecture. What do you think?” “Honestly, I agree with you. I’ve fought my entire life to get out of dresses, and I’m not ready to slide back into one. I’ll never, well maybe not never, wear those robes, please. I agree we need to find our style. But probably not in this city today.” “But you will agree it was a good idea to not spend any more time in the cave?” “Yes, Mat, I agree. What we thought we knew was only a thimble of information compared to the ocean that was really out here.” As the two reached the main gates they waved at the guards and headed in the direction they’d been told to go. Both chatted jovially and tried to enjoy the day, but Devon was nervous and he knew Mat was as well. Every turn they’d made so far had led to new complications. Read the full article

Chapter 2 That damn dream again. Every night for the last two weeks, the same dream. Matsugo sat up in his bed, rubbing his eyes. It was fucking strange. What did it mean? He pulled back the covers, shivering in the cold night air. The seasons had started their change; winter was knocking at the doors of Seattle. In the dark, he walked to the bathroom. He didn’t need light. Matt had lived in this house for almost as long as he’d been alive. The only time he hadn’t awoken in this bed, in this room for that matter, was during his short attempt at college. But that ended when he had become an orphan. All three members of his family killed in a car accident. His mother and sister both died at the scene while sadly his father had lingered. The old man had never fully awoken in his hospital bed, finally passing away as well. In many ways, Mat felt his never waking was the last mercy this life could have shown the old man. He died never knowing that all he loved had already left to prepare his way. Matt sat with his father for days, holding his hand, telling him he was getting better. The few times he stirred in his restless slumber, with all those tubes and wires snaking from his body, Matt had whispered that his beloved wife and daughter were waiting for him. He never knew if his father understood his lies, but then what else could a son do but lie? So, Matt did. Finally, on that last morning, the old man opened his eyes. They had darted around, confused, until eventually finding his son, his adopted son, and there they locked. Matsugo smiled, hoping it was the start of a new day. That wasn’t to be, for as the edges of his father’s mouth curled up, bringing hope with the weak smile, he released his last breath and slipped from this world. In such a short time, Matsugo Chang had gone from having a disapproving family to being alone. It’s strange how once they were gone, he realized even a disappointed family was better than none. Matt walked into the bathroom, his nude body shivering from the cold. He stood in front of the toilet and relaxed, allowing the stream of urine to flow as he looked out the window above the toilet. His life had been understandable once. Now his family was gone, and he lived in the house he had spent most of his youth trying to escape. Money wasn’t a problem. His parents had been frugal and, once the lawyers and tax people were gone, they’d left him with a nice nest egg from their savings and insurance money. But still… He shook, allowing the last drop to fall into the water below. He turned, catching a glimpse of himself dusted by the moonlight in the full-length mirror beside the tub. He should get his hair cut; his mother hated it when it got this long. The jet-black locks were now down to his shoulders, hanging in his face. He’d resorted to pulling it back into a stump of a ponytail. He liked it long. He didn’t consider himself arrogant, but he was attractive. He had always enjoyed working out. The strain settled his mind. He wished he was taller, standing just a little over five and a half feet. He chuckled about how that half a foot mattered, at least to him. His body had almost no hair even a mustache was hard to grow. His chest, arms, legs, and ass were as smooth as a baby’s butt. When he wore speedos to the beach, the tight ass and the way his lines flowed into each other ensured both sexes would notice him. He didn’t have a body-builders, overdone physique, but the subtler frame of a swimmer. The perfection of his chest was only interrupted by two small barbell piercings, one in each nipple. His pecs slid down onto his abs which flowed across his stomach like small waves on a calm day, ending in his jet-black pubes that curled around his cock. He’d lucked out; his manhood was perfect for his frame, long, uncut and wide. He and his cock had become fast friends while in high school. It had been the only hobby other than video games he’d found he was any good at. He’d heard all the jokes in the locker room — the rumor about Asians having small cocks. In his years of sleeping with other Asian men, he’d found that myth to most certainly not be true. He’d been born Japanese but adopted by a white family. His parents and sister were Caucasian, so he had grown up in a typical middle-class white household. His Asian friends joked he was nothing more than a white man with tanned skin and almond-shaped eyes. He’d tried to hang on to aspects of his birth parents’ culture, but like all things you are distant from, those parts you know, you forget, and the parts you don’t, you never bother to learn. As he crawled back into bed, pulling the covers over his goose-bumped skin he noticed movement across the room. He dismissed thinking it was his curtains and settled back onto his pillow. Then he realized, wait the window wasn’t over there. In shock, he sat up and almost screamed. There, in the chair beside his desk, sat a man. “Who are you?” he barked as he backed out of bed, putting it between him and the stranger. The man looked him up and down. It was then he remembered he was nude. Flushing red, Matt grabbed his pillow, placing it over his midsection. “I said who are you and why are you in my house?” “You insisted I visit, you won’t answer your dreams,” the stranger said calmly. “Answer my dreams! What the hell are you talking about?” Read the full article

Chapter 1 “They're still chasing us! Why won't those damn things give up?” Matt heard from behind him. “Are kobolds supposed to be such dicks? I thought they hated the sun,” he yelled back as a bright flash whizzed past just missing his head. Turning, he saw his friend, his travel companion, firing bolts from his fingers as fast as he could. They’d been through so much. Their adventures to dungeons, like this last one, sometimes brought them jewels and gold, while other times they found themselves running like cowards from a band of angry kobolds trying to save their asses. Watching the power in his friend magic reminded Matt just how far they’d come together. They continued to run until they were both exhausted. Finally, dripping with sweat and blurry eyed, they stopped. Looking back over his shoulder he took a quick count. Only ten or so left. They had managed to reduce the number by almost half, a more manageable fight. Pulling his daggers, he took a deep breath and turned to see if his friend is ready as well. Matt froze. His companion’s face… it was a blur; he couldn’t make out any of its features. With the attackers still growing closer, he searched his memory. Why couldn’t he remember his friend’s face? Who was this? Where were they? And more importantly, if he couldn’t remember the face, did even know who this was? What made him think it was a friend? Read the full article