Smuggling Hertzmer Option Aa2: Jump In

Rushing River - Smuggling Hertzmer

It’s time to see how this adventure ends, to see if you live or die, if you succeed or find yourself stuck in a fix.

If you’re just checking in, here’s a quick recap of this story: you were smuggling a halfling out of the country when three hunters came upon you. To distract the hunters from Hertzmer, the halfling, and Cam, your accomplice, you began to act crazy. You convinced the hunters you were trying to attract a brook nymph by making frost angels on the frozen grass. They insisted you take them to another meadow to try attracting the nymph again. When you arrived, the nymph offered to either wash the three hunters down stream, or to take you to safety but you have to jump into the cold water for her to help you. The vote went for jumping into the water. (If you’d like to read the first three posts, click here, here and here.)

Now, let’s jump in!

Smuggling Hertzmer Option Aa2. Jump In

Water Droplet“You should jump in,” the nymph whispers in your ear. Her voice has gone from excited and slightly teasing, to subdued.

When you glance at the water droplet on your shoulder, it no longer shows the distorted reflection of your ear, but reflects the three hunters who are throwing rocks into the rushing brook and hollering for the nymph to show herself.

“Jump in, human,” she says again, “let’s be away from these scoundrels.”

Somehow, her change in tone is comforting. Instead of possibly tossing you around like a rag doll, she might focus on simply getting you away.

The water hits you like a slap in the face. It’s entirely fed by the spring runoff from the mountains and, as it sucks the air from your body, you have no doubt the rushing brook carries water that was snow only days, perhaps even hours, before.

With your hands and feet bound, you quickly find there’s no way to navigate the water either. It floods over your face and swirls you around until up and down mean nothing.

Rushing RiverBreathe, human, the nymph’s voice sounds in your head.

I can’t breathe water!

Breathe, she insists.

Even if you wanted to argue, your body starts to guppy breathe despite your attempt to hold in your last breath.

Giving in, you suck in—air? Your eyes pop open. The nymph giggles. She’s created a bubble around your face. The rushing brook still swirls and throws you around but you can see the rocky bottom one moment, and the glimmering surface the next.

They hollered like stuck pigs when you washed by! The nymph chortles. But they’re not bold enough to jump in.

You hiccup a relieved giggle and the nymph takes that as a cue to laugh in glee.

Look there, human, she says, laughter still lightening her tone. That’s where the fish like to stay when the sun goes down. And over there, that tree joined my waters seasons ago. She guides you around the long branches of the fallen pine. So much debris has collected in the branches, logs, leaves, even small rocks, that it’s almost a dam. Luckily, the tree’s not tall enough to span to the far side of the water and the nymph carefully takes you through the gurgling portion where the water funnels.

LakeFinally, her brook spills out into a familiar lake that borders town on the north end. The nymph stops you just before you’re washed into the larger body of water.

I can go no further. The lake nymph is—fickle. You ignore the irony in her statement.

Thank you, you tell her as she deposits you onto the bank of the brook.

Jump in anytime, she giggles, I like a human who’s willing to trust me.

You grin even though your entire body is numb from the freezing water. You lie back on the rocky bank and soak in the sun until the tingling in your limbs subsides. You’re just about to stand when a shadow falls across your face.

Squinting, you find yourself looking at a tall, slender woman. She sways in place and her long, silvery hair shifts back and forth with her subtle motion. Dark gray eyes watch you.

“The brook put you here?” she asks.

Considering the brook’s comment about the lake nymph, you slowly nod. This woman looks like the brook nymph, except she seems more solemn. There aren’t a lot of bodies of water around for her to call home.

“She said you were escaping from some hunters, she said you trusted her with your life.”

Again, you give a nod.

“Then you should know the hunters beat you to town. They’ve started searching the far side of the lake, and they’ve gathered a large party to help them.”

With that, the lake nymph dissolves and flows back into the water.

***

You evade the hunters repeatedly with the help of the local nymphs. Although it’s a hard life, you take it as an advantage. If they’re searching for you, they can’t really search for halflings, so after a while, you take it as your personal goal to keep them distracted while Cam continues to smuggle halflings from the country.

The End

Well done! You survived and made some new nymph friends.

Thank you for joining in this adventure =)

Until next time, blessings,

Jennifer

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Smuggling Hertzmer Option Aa. Nymph

River - Smuggling Hertzmer

It’s time to search out a brook nymph!

Up to this point, you were helping to smuggle a halfling out of the country when three hunters came upon you. To distract the hunters from Hertzmer, the halfling, and Cam, your accomplice, you began to act crazy. You’ve convinced the hunters you were trying to attract a brook nymph by making frost angels on the frozen grass. They’ve now insisted you take them to another meadow to try attracting the nymph again. You’re hoping the nymph will help you escape the hunters now that you have successfully distracted them from the halfling. (If you’d like to read the first two posts, click here and here.)

Let’s see what happens!

Smuggling Hertzmer Option Aa. Nymph

Globe Hunter Tracks/ Smuggling HertzmerToday’s not the day to face snow slides or rock giants, you decide, but it is a great day for acting crazy some more. You begin to skip as you lead the three hunters through the trees.

“Calm yourself, now,” Scarecrow says as he pitches a pinecone at your back.

You spin and skip backwards facing him and the other two hunters. Then you start to sing. “Up, down, right and left. Up, down, right and left. Spin around and duck and roll,” this last part has you diving under the low branches of a spruce tree, rolling, and returning to your feet on the far side.

Bear shouts. He races around the tree to catch you like he thought you were trying to escape, but as you meet him on the far side, you grab his hands and skip in a circle with him. Then you drop one hand and continue to skip forward, singing, “Up, down, right and left…”

At first he doesn’t join in, but as your start to pull, you get a low, almost grumbled, “Up, down, right and left…” as he begins to skip too.

“ENOUGH!” Scarecrow stares at the two of you with such consternation that Bear drops your hand, slumps his shoulders and mumbles, in a very Mutters like fashion, “Sorry, Boss.”

You go quiet but continue to hop, in place, from one foot to the other.

“Not right up here,” Mutters whispers in Scarecrow’s ear and circles a finger around his temple.

“Bind that one and put a gag in,” Scarecrow orders.

Bear drops a heavy hand on your shoulder, stopping your hopping.

In short order, your hands are tied behind your back and your feet are connected with a three foot rope. It’s long enough for you to shuffle along but not to skip. The gag in your mouth tastes like an old sock and you shy away from wondering what the hunters use it for regularly.

River - Smuggling HertzmerHowever, your new condition serves the purpose you hoped for. As you reach the edge of the brook that your nymph friend inhabits, you’re obviously a captive, which will warn the nymph of your predicament. The brook runs through a wide meadow that glistens damply in the afternoon sunlight.

The three hunters, upon seeing the meadow, grin at each other and, in their excitement, rush a little ahead to enter the meadow first. They seem completely unaware that the frost you were hoping to make angels in is completely missing from the grass.

You’re following them, about to leave the edge of the trees, when the pine above you drops a large droplet of water onto your shoulder.

It doesn’t absorb into the fabric of your shirt but instead stays perfectly round and glistening. When you look at it from the corner of your eye, you see the distorted shape of your ear reflected in its surface, and the swirl of motion that tells you you’re not alone.

“Well, this looks like mischief,” says a soft, lilting voice next to your ear.

“Want to help?” you mutter.

“I would love to wash someone downstream today,” the nymph offers with a giggle. “Imagine the flailing limbs and soggy cloths. Humans make for such fun.”

You pause. Is she offering to wash the hunters downstream or you downstream?

“Want to wash all three?” you ask, trying to gauge her.

“Hehe,” she giggles. “LOTS of flailing limbs! Although you’re fun too. Want to jump in?”

You glance at the brook, which really is a river with the spring runoff, beside you and shiver. It’d be a cold, and dangerous, ride but it would get you away from the hunters. On the other hand, it’d be fun to see the nymph sweep up all the hunters, but if they get far enough away from the water, she might miss one or two of them as well. Then you’d have to deal with some angry hunters.

Aa1. Hunters?

Or

Aa2. Yourself?

Thank you for participating in this adventure so far! Leave your vote for how you’d like to proceed in the comments below. We’ll return next Thursday to see how this adventure ends.

Until then, blessings,

Jennifer

Smuggling Hertzmer Option A. Act Crazy

Snowy Footprint -Smuggling Hertzmer Adventure

Welcome back to the next part in this adventure!

Last Thursday, you tried to smuggle a halfling, Hertzmer, out of the country, but three hunters have come upon you in the meadow where you passed Hertzmer to Cam so she can get him to the boarder. The problem? Hertzmer left large, distinctive prints in the frosty grass. You have to do something to hide those prints before the three hunters can see them. Let’s put our crazy faces on and see what happens =) (If you’re interested in reading last week’s post, click here.)

Smuggling Hertzmer Option A. Act Crazy

The hunters are almost close enough now to see the frosty prints. Whether it’s a good idea or not, it’s time to do something.

You grin at them over your shoulder before throwing your hands wide, twisting and flopping down into the cold grass on your back.

Snow Angel - Smuggling Hertzmer Adventure“Weeeeeee!” you squeal as you swing your arms and legs, making a frost angel like all the kids used to do in the snow. The motion brushes the remaining footprints away but you continue flapping your arms and legs while grinning at the three men.

They pause, varying looks of confusion covering their bearded faces.

The closest man, a sun-wrinkled scarecrow of a person, finally steps closer and kicks the sole of your foot. “Stop that now,” he demands.

You scamper to your feet and pivot around to look at the frost angel. “Did it work? Did it work?!” you exclaim. The angel’s wings are perfectly shaped in the crusted grass. However, where the hunter kicked you, there’s a weird smudge. “Ah, man,” you say, pointing at the spot, “gotta try again!” With a couple steps, you clear the disturbed area, twist around and flop onto your back again.

“Hey now,” Scarecrow shouts. “Enough!”

“But it’s got to be perfect or she won’t come!” you swing your arms with more gusto.

One of Scarecrow’s companions leans toward him and whispers none too softly; “Don’t think this one’s right up stairs, if you know what I mean.”

“Who won’t come?” the third hunter, a burly bear of a man wearing a tattered fur jacket, demands while he fingers the axe hanging from his hip.

“The nymph!” you say. “She’s a tricky one, but if you get the frost angel just right, she grants you a wish.”

The hunters trade glances.

“Think I’ve heard of this nymph,” the one man mutters, again none too softly.

Bear smacks him on the arm. “You’ve heard of everything. Doesn’t make it true.”

“Could be true,” Mutters, as you dub the none-too-quiet whisperer/mutter, insists.

The three hunters have now moved to circle you where you lay in the grass, still swinging your arms. While they argue, you chance a glance toward the tree line. Cam and Hertzmer’s faces can just be seen watching from the underbrush. You’re still too close for them to safely move away.

“Awe, man!” you exclaim, interrupting the three hunters. “Look at all the areas you guys have messed up. It’s got to be a pristine meadow for the nymph to show up. Gotta find a new one.” You scramble to your feet and turn as though about to run off.

A beefy hand clamps down on your shoulder. “Where do you think you’re going?” asks Bear.

“The nymph likes certain spots. Pristine spots,” you say pointedly with a look at the meadow. “There’s another one up the hill a ways.”

Scarecrow - Smuggling Hertzmer AdventureScarecrow strokes his beard as he considers this. It takes everything you have not to look toward the trees when he sends a glob of spit flying in that direction from the side of his mouth.

“You’re going to help us find this nymph,” he finally says. “Now lead the way.”

Bear takes his cue and turns you in the direction you were about to run. “No funny stuff,” he says as he gives your shoulder a shove.

You stumble ahead of them, leading the three hunters away from Cam and Hertzmer. Now that you know they’re safe, you start to consider your own situation. You do know a nymph in these woods. She’s a brook naiad and she’s a friend of yours, but she’s not always the most reliable creature. With an impish nature, she’s just as likely to dump water, lots of it, on your head than she is to help you get away from the hunters. At the same time, if her mood’s right, she might wash the hunters downstream too.

Her brook also happens to be in the same direction as the Avalanche Swath, a steeply sided pass that’s well known for snow slides. With the recent snow that’s hit the higher passes, the Swath will be prime for just such a slide. But you typically avoid the place, not because of the snow, but because of the Rock Giants who call the place home.

Do you lead the Hunters to the…

Aa. Nymph?

Or

Ab. The Avalanche Swath?

Leave your vote in the comments below. We’ll return next Thursday with part three of this adventure. For now, thanks for joining the fun!

Blessings,

Jennifer

Smuggling Hertzmer

Frosted Meadow

Welcome back for a brand new adventure =)

Smuggling Hertzmer

Frost layers the bushes and trees and even the long bladed grass in the meadow with a coating of thick white crystals. No breath of wind touches those layered plants and the soft scampering of a squirrel can be heard in the near silence. To most, the early morning stillness hanging over the meadow would appear normal, just like any of a dozen other meadows you might find in the clear rays of morning sun. But this is no normal place. A faint smell, chamomile and lavender, sweetens the frost scent in the air.

“She’s not here,” Hertzmer grumbles at your shoulder. Even though his deep voice is soft, it breaks the silence like the hollow thud of a drum. The squirrel chatters at him in startled agitation.

You shoot a glare his way and then give a long sniff.

He copies your action by breathing deeply through his thick mustache. Perhaps the mustache muffles the scent. It takes him several sniffs to pick up the chamomile and lavender, but then a grin breaks through his bush of a beard.

He almost stands but you catch his arm to remind him to stay put. The chatter of the squirrel has finally stopped and nothing stirred when it burst forth but that does not mean no one is watching.

You know, for one, that Cam is out there somewhere. Until she shows herself, you are to stay hidden.

Finally, after several more nervous minutes of waiting, something moves in the tree line to your left.

A thin figure motions for you to join her with the pre-arranged signal of three fingers against her lips.

You’re not fast enough this time to catch Hertzmer. He bolts toward Cam’s position by the most direct path possible, straight across the frosted meadow. His steps leave large ovals in the otherwise undisturbed grass.

Cam’s original signal turns into a gasp of dismay. Unless the day turns unusually warm, those prints wont disappear for hours. They sit there like beacons for anyone who might happen by, for although Hertzmer’s broad chest and gruff exterior might be deceiving, he’s still a halfling who walks around bare footed. The print of his big toe sticks out like it’s pointing the way.

If anyone sees those, they’re sure to follow Cam and Hertzmer. Like all other halflings, he’s been banned from the country. A person would follow just for the bounty of gold they’d receive when they turned him in to the magistrate.

On all of your dozens of missions to smuggle halflings to safety, you’ve stopped here and let Cam take them the rest of the way to the boarder, but you can’t leave those prints.

Frosted Tree - Smuggling HertzmerWith a dead branch in hand, you begin to dance through the meadow, brushing away both halfling and human prints alike.

“Hey,” shouts an unfamiliar male voice. “What’re you doing there?”

You freeze. Three prints remain in front of you as you look over your shoulder toward the voice. As you do, Cam pulls Hertzmer backward to melt into the tree line.

Three men emerge from the trees across the meadow. They carry that look about them, the frayed clothing and the mismatched weaponry, that warns they’re hunters. Unscrupulous and unshaven, such men will do anything for a bounty.

They walk your way with suspicious expressions. If they get much closer, they’ll see the few remaining prints and be hot on Cam’s trail. Probably after disposing of you because they wouldn’t want to chance you’re a hunter too.

Do you act crazy to distract them or run to mislead them?

A. Act Crazy?

Or

B. Run?

Thank you for joining in this adventure. Leave your vote in the comments below. We’ll return next Thursday to follow whichever option received the most votes =)

Blessings,

Jennifer

The Eye Published!

Z Publishing Science Fiction and Fantasy Colorado

Traditional publishing takes for-ev-er! Those novels you so love from popular authors can take up to two years to produce even if the author writes the book in six months. Because of this, my brain has come to expect long wait times. If I’ve submitted a story, I move on to my next piece while I wait because it could be months to hear from a publication, if I hear back at all. It’s not uncommon if a story is not accepted for the publication to simply not respond. A lack of response is a ‘No,’ but you have to wait the allotted amount of time to know if they’re simply not responding or if they’re taking their time.

Anyway, all of this is to say, Z Publications moves really fast for a publishing house. A couple weeks ago I let you know they accepted my short story, The Eye, for one of their 2019 publications. At the time, I didn’t have a date of publication to share. I figured it would be in the fall at the earliest.

Last week, I received an email letting me know my expectation was waaaaaay off. Z Publication’s short story anthology, America’s Emerging Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers: Colorado, has now been published! EEEEK. If I’d known if would come out this soon, I’d have waited to share in the first place, but that’s now in the past.

You can find links to the anthology on Amazon and on Z Publication’s website below if you’re interested.

Thank you as always for sharing in this adventure with me!

Blessings,

Jennifer

America’s Emerging Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers: Colorado (Amazon)

America’s Emerging Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers: Colorado (Z Publishing House)

One Story at a Time

Z Publishing House - Colorado's 2018 Emerging Writers

I must confess, I’ve not been good about submitting my short stories for publication lately. There’s a catch-22 usually with publishing. You have to be published to get published. It’s frustrating but really all this means is, like in most any job, you start at the bottom and work your way up. Not everyone succeeds this way, but it’s the most common way of getting your name into the publishing world.

Usually, when I get a short story written, I’m not self controlled enough to keep it to myself, I like to share with you all the story I managed to get out of my head onto paper, but if I post the story on the blog, most publications consider it already published and don’t want it. So the majority of my short stories aren’t submittable.

There are some publications, however, that don’t care if the story has already been ‘published’ as long as the author still owns all the rights. Since mine have been posted here, I still control all the rights.

z publishing logoZ Publishing House, thankfully, is this way. They like to highlight up-and-coming writers in different genres and different locations. (Yes, this is the publication that accepted Wizard’s Coffee from me last year.)

This year they decided to expand their story selection by allowing stories up to 5,000 words. This opened a world of choices for me since I tend to be long winded.

All this to say, they’ve accepted a story of mine called The Eye for their 2019 Up and Coming Writers! EEEEK!

I don’t yet have a publication date for this, but I believe it’ll be later this year. I’ll update you as soon as I know more.

Just sharing my excitement for now! Good luck in your own endeavors =)

Blessings,

Jennifer

Outcasts Option Ab2: Sneak Group Out

If you missed the previous posts, you can read them here: Outcasts and Outcasts Option A. North Aqueducts and Outcasts Option Ab: Follow the Wolfhounds.

Or, here’s a recap: You and a group of other outcasts, who have been ostracized due to various illnesses, have decided to enter the abandoned city of Calla Sadum in hopes of finding cures to your ailments. Most of the group were swallowed into a pit before ever reaching the gate. You, with your leprosy, and a heavily burned man named Angus, decided to enter the city through an aqueduct system his granpap used to rave about. The Aqueducts got you in all right, but you were dropped into an underground city full of walking skeleton creatures. It doesn’t look like you’ll find any cures down here, but maybe you can help the rest of the group. You decided to follow a pack of wolfhound skeletons in hopes of finding the other outcasts and found the hounds holding the group in pits in the floor of a cavern with fires burning at the mouth of each pit. They pulled the leader of your group, The Commander, from a pit and turned him into a new wolfhound skeleton. You and Angus have decided to try and save the rest of the group by sneaking them out.

Let’s see how this adventure ends =)

Outcasts Option Ab2. Sneak Group Out

“I don’t think we can take on the whole pack,” you whisper to Angus.

He squeezes your arm and gives a sigh of relief that you’re not even sure he’s aware of. As you both study the area, the pack continues to play with their new pup by jumping over darkened pits and raging fires. The pup stumbles into several of the later but the flames don’t seem to bother his bones as he rolls through and comes out the other side with a grin on his toothy face.

Their cavorting draws them farther into the cavern.

“Come on.” You nudge Angus and lead the way toward the boy’s pit by following the cavern wall where it’s darkest. Perhaps the wolfhounds can see and perhaps not but you don’t want to take any chances by walking directly in the firelight. Close to the pit, you sink to your belly and low crawl to the edge.

The blind boy stands in the bottom with his ear pressed hard to the wall. For once, his blindness is not a hindrance but maybe an asset. From the pit floor, he can’t see anything anyway, but with sharp ears, he might be able to hear what’s going on above.

You spot the ladder the hounds used to let the Commander out of the pit. It lies in a crumpled heap next to the fire on the far side of the pit.

“Stay here,” you whisper to Angus. “I’ll send the boy to you.”

You don’t wait for Angus’ reply as you low crawl to the ladder. Two heavy stakes anchor it to the top of the pit. A glance tells you the wolfhounds are still prancing around the cavern with their new pup but their antics are drawing them closer now instead of away.

Hand over hand, you lower the ladder, being careful not to let the wooden rungs clack against each other as you move the ropes through your hands. Finally, with it fully played out, you tap the inside of the pit wall with your palm. It makes a soft slapping, muffled by the bandages covering your fingers.

The boy’s dark head swivels. You tap again and peek over a shoulder to place the hounds. They’re two pits away, staring into the bottom of another pit. Who’s in that one, you wonder, but don’t have time to watch as the ladder gives a jerk.

The boy begins to climb one slow rung at a time. Midway up, his foot catches on a loose chunk of rock and knocks it free of the wall. The following clatter echoes through the cavern like the boy rang a bell.

Skeletal heads swing around. The puppy skeleton launches from the bottom of the pit the hounds were staring into moments before. A part of you breaths relief that it wasn’t another member of your group they were preparing to change, but that relief is muted as the hounds give a chorus of excited yowls.

“Hurry!” you shout to the boy below.

His caution disappears and he scrambles upward. He’s not going to be fast enough, though. The hounds bound over the first fire. You search for a stick, a rock, anything to defend the top of the ladder with.

Burning woodAs the first hound hits the floor next to your pit, there comes a bellow of mixed rage and pain. Angus meets the skeleton with a burning piece of firewood that he swings with all his might at the head of the hound. It connects in a shower of sparks and bones. The hound stumbles sideways, headless, and disappears over the edge of another pit. Moments later there comes the clatter of scattering bones.

The boy reaches the top of the ladder just as Angus takes on the second hound to arrive at the pit.

“Is there anyone else left?” you ask the boy.

“N-No,” he stutters. “The Com—“

“Do you know a way out?” you interrupt.

The boy nods so hard you wonder about his neck.

“Angus!”

He chucks the burning club at another skeleton and races to catch up as the blind boy takes your hand and starts toward the cavern wall. His sense of direction is impressive as he avoids several spots of uneven floor until he can lay a hand on the wall.

“This way.” He lets go of your hand to race ahead. “There’s fresh air,” he calls back.

Angus’ heavy breathing sounds behind you. “They’re gaining on us,” he warns.

“It’s not far,” the boy yells back. Suddenly he disappears.

You realize as you reach the spot that he turned to the right into a small passageway.

The wolfhounds snarling bounces off the passage walls as they fight with each other for the lead in chasing you.

The passage ends abruptly in a solid wall with a ladder built into the stone. The boy’s at the top.

You follow him up and reach past him. It’s a trapdoor of some sort.

“I can’t lift it,” the boy whimpers.

“Hey friends,” Angus calls, “we need to move.” He starts pitching loose rocks at the hounds to slow them down but, other than knocking off a bone or two, it’s not working.

Your searching hands find a rope. When you pull, there’s a faint click from the far side of the door.

“Push.” The boy puts his shoulder against the wooden paneling to help you lift. After a moment of groaning, the door breaks free and dirt showers down into the passage. You throw the trapdoor open. As soon as you’re free, you turn on your stomach to help Angus off the ladder too. You reach to close the trapdoor when one vigorous hound jumps the distance to the top.

Angus grabs the blind boy away and turns to take the hound’s claws on his shoulder. There’s a clatter and everything goes eerily still.

The trapdoor thuds closed but you’re staring at the bones of the ambitious hound—er—what used to be a hound. A very human skeleton lies on the ground. It doesn’t move.

“We’re outside the walls of Calla Sadum,” you observe.

“Think they can’t leave the walls?” Angus asks.

“Only explanation I can think of. Maybe they can’t leave.”

“But this is human,” Angus nudges a hand with his toes.

“You saw what happened to the Commander,” you respond after a moment. “Perhaps now we know what happened to everyone inside Calla Sadum. It wasn’t actually abandoned.”

“Oh,” the blind boy says. “Oh, that’s terrible.”

You can’t help but agree.

***

It’s a very quiet night around the fire. You tear an old shirt into long strips and motion for Angus to hold out his hands. The burning club added to the man’s scars. You wind the cloth around his burned fingers.

“We’ll match,” he chuckles.

“You did good,” you respond as you tie off the end of the bandages.

He shrugs, “What’s a few more scars? We’re alive.”

The blind boy, Pearson, begins to snore from his bedroll across the small campfire.

Alive’s good, you decide. With everything you saw in Calla Sadum, there might actually be a cure for your leprosy there, but it could be a while before you can convince yourself to chance the place again. For the time being, you’re not alone and you’re alive, and that’s plenty to keep you happy.

The End

Yay, you survived! Congratulations, and thank you for participating in this adventure. I love to hear your reasoning behind each choice.

Until next time, blessings,

Jennifer