travelingparties

[travelingparties]

13-14 Grasping

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*(Solo TTRPG Journaling based on Wanderhome)*

*text under readmore in case you can't read the small text*

I despise travel. Always have.

My legs get all cramped, the bumpiness of the roads make reading an impossible task, and being stuck in a confined space for hours on end is enough to drive anyone mad.

Aria is happy, though. At least someone is.

We arrived at the coastline nearing midnight last night, stopping to rest for the evening before heading out on the road again. To our surprise, we weren’t the only ones here. There’s a large tower here, occupied by a scholar, a kind but nervous young man. He and I spent most of the evening trading stories and books. My area of expertise. At the base of the tower is a very… lively caravan. Artists, dancers, and writers. Creative types. Aria seems thrilled.

She particularly seems fond of this owl… From what I am able to understand, they’re a poet with a tendency to wax poetic about mostly everything. They spent the evening rambling about this or that, about the trees and the stars in the sky and the ocean waves. It was all nonsense to me, but… Something resonated with Aria, I think. I’m not sure if that’s a good sign or not.

She’s been up since early this morning, scribbling in the sketchbook that Grimshaw gave her. Seems Tiberius and I have a little artist on our hands.

When I told Aria it was time to head out, however, she refused. For the first time, she and I fought. I was scared. I was scared of what she would do if I didn’t obey, but I was more scared of what would happen if we got caught here. There was so much I didn’t understand about this journey. So much I still don’t understand. 

She’s stomped off to the coastline now, still drawing in her sketchbook, crouched over in the sand. Tiberius tried to assure me that I was a good mother. I wasn’t sure how to explain to him that I was neither of those things.

Tiberius has proved to be surprisingly helpful. Perhaps I initially misjudged him.

He became the peacekeeper between Aria and I today. He sat at the coast with her for a very, very long time. I had no idea what they were talking about, but when he came back, he had given Aria and I an agreement. A contract, if you will. A true businessman day in and day out.

We were to stay here for two more days, he told me. Candlefeast is tomorrow, so we might as well celebrate it when we aren’t busy on the road. Better to celebrate with new friends in a safe, solitary place. I… agreed. I hadn’t celebrated Candlefeast in years. Never had anyone to celebrate with until now. He said that afterwards, Aria will be ready to move on. She’s just stressed and tired from all the travel.

That we both can agree on.

[travelingparties]

12 Grasping

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*(Solo TTRPG Journaling based on Wanderhome)*

*text under readmore in case you can't read the small text*

Never in my years did I expect to see Professor Grimshaw again. I would have thought the old cat would have moved on from the university by now, retired somewhere nice. A fishing cabin away from the hustle and bustle, maybe. It almost makes me sad.

She gave me a nice hug and sat Aria and I down for tea. An old recipe she had grown and mixed herself, with her wife’s old family honey. She even gave me a box of the stuff as thanks for the delivery. Part of me wants to drink it all within the week, but I know I must savor the gift a little longer than that.

I don’t know what compelled me to, but I told her the truth about why I was in the city, about Aria. She always understood these things better than I did, there was a reason many assumed she was a witch.

I told her that Aria frightened me and that I didn’t want to shepherd the girl to her destiny. I told her that she was simply a reminder of the horrible things she had done to my family in her previous life. If I hadn’t been away at school, I wouldn’t have been left alone in this world.

Grimshaw told me that I should talk to someone about survivor's guilt.

She doesn’t understand that it doesn’t matter, what’s done is done. I’m alone. And now I’m never going to have the chance to fix that. She says that I’m not alone, that I have Aria, and that I need to show her kindness.

Aria spent the whole meeting poking around the classroom. It was almost odd to watch her playing. Grimshaw reminded me that it wasn’t odd at all, Aria is a child, a lost child that needed someone to guide her. No matter my feelings on who she used to be.

Grimshaw has gifted her a pad and a set of charcoals to draw with. A small act of kindness, she told me, for a girl who needed it. I’m trying my best to remember that.

We returned to the market to find Tiberius surrounded by people looking to buy his wares. The cat is an exuberant force of nature, it’s no wonder he’s able to sell so easily. I worry that the delivery was not enough, and we don’t have enough time left in the town for me to find a job before we have to leave. We’ll continue on foot if we must, but funds are a necessity. 

We left the market for now, the noise was starting to overwhelm Aria and I fear what might happen if it overpowers her. We found a nice, quiet spot by the shrine for her to draw with her new charcoals. There’s a stunning fountain in the center of town that I remember being beautiful during the warmer months, but now in Grasping, there’s a thin layer of frost on it. I worry about how Aria will handle the cold coming soon. I should find her a coat sooner rather than later. One that, preferably, I won’t have to pay for.

For now, though, we ride out come dawn. I will always miss Professor Grimshaw, but we’ve spent too much time here, too close to the city. I’m not quite sure what lies for us beyond the town, but I’m sure we’ll figure it out, one day at a time.

[travelingparties]

Nightingale University

Natures: Market, Hallow, and University.

Aesthetic Elements:

Show-Stopping Livestock

Distant Smells

A Well-Tended Shrine

Forgotten Offerings

Statues Of The Founders In All Their Glory

A •Witchy Professor Whom You Once Called A Mentor

Folklore:

The Forbidden Society Of The Theatre Hall

The Crow And The Thirty-Three Thieves

The •Miraculous Teachings Of The Old Priest

[travelingparties]

The Peddler

Tiberius (he/him)

A Sphynx Cat

Tiberius is Stern and Watchful. He feels he needs to be Stingy and Experienced.

Look: Fingers Adorned With Rings, Glasses With Many Adjusting Lenses, Fat Cigars, Overburdened Backpack.

Wares: Toys, dolls, and anything else that brings joy wherever you go. Smokes, drink, or anything people might need to soothe their nerves. Novels, manuscripts, and anything else crafted by storytellers. Tomes, tapestries, and any other vessels of ancient magic.

1 you’ll never abandon: A key that is said to be able to free the Slobbering God from its cursed prison.

1 you parted with a long time ago: A map that leads to wealth beyond anyone’s imagination, given by an old friend before they disappeared.

[travelingparties]

11 Grasping

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*(Solo TTRPG Journaling based on Wanderhome by @jdragsky)*

*text under readmore in case you can't read my tiny handwriting*

Today, the girl and I set out on our journey. I woke her up before sunrise, to make our escape before the city became full of life. Too many dangers.

She’s afraid, I can tell.

I found an old map among my things to take with us, it should prove useful. If I’m correct, it’ll take us a little less than a day to make it to the next town over, where we can stop for the night. I’ve also broken into my savings jar in order to hire a local peddler to act as a caravan, at least for now. It’s easier than traveling on foot. I fear, though, that I may need to find odd jobs to do in each city we stay in, in order to keep paying for his services.

His name is Tiberius and, while I do not consider myself a cruel sort, he is particularly ugly, inside and out. Most peddlers tend to be; obsessed with their wares and their coin and their numbers. He is a unique sort, though. One of those cats with no fur, who has to overcompensate by wearing pounds of bumble wool. The girl keeps asking him where his fur went.

I am urging her to stay silent, but it is difficult with Tiberius around. He refuses to cease his endless yapping. He asks about me, and her, and where her parents are, and why we hired him, and for how long… I have half a mind to steal his beetle myself and kick him out of the caravan, but I remain silently seething.

If there is one piece of good to come out of his inability to not speak, it’s that song he keeps humming. The girl seemed fascinated by it, tapping her fingers to the beat. When he noticed, he asked her if she would like to learn it and she said yes. It’s an old aria, he explained, from his ancestors, passed down through generations. I think that sounds like a load of hogwash, peddlers have a tendency to make nice lies, but the girl loved the story and the song. It’s the first time I’ve seen her smile since I met her.

I decided to start calling her Aria. Maybe, if she can smile along and believe in Tiberius, perhaps I should start trying to believe in her as well.

I always did want to name my daughter Aria, but the chance always passed me by.

We’ve arrived in town, now. And we’ll be staying here for two days before taking off again. I have the money for two nights in the inn, but I’ll need to find work in order to pay Tiberius for passage to the next town. Though, if I can find my own wagon, I might not mind leaving him behind.

It’s been a long time since I stepped foot into this town. I attended university here, once, when I was still young and hopeful. Perhaps it’s the one thing that saved me from Her wrath all those years ago. I wonder if any of my old mentors are still here. It would be nice to see at least one familiar face.

Finding work was difficult. The markets are always full of vendors, but none willing to hire for a day's work. Aria seems overwhelmed by the noise. I nearly had a heart attack when I realized she had run off somewhere. Tiberius found her by a pen of rather impressive bumbles for sale, petting them gently. I had to apologize to the owner. I don’t know how to punish a child that could kill me.

The local shrine was a bust as well. Aria found old food offerings, ones that had already gone bad, and couldn’t help herself. I snapped at her and now I feel guilty. Does she even know who she is? Do I?

I’ll buy her a nice meal tonight to apologize, but I worry our funds are dwindling. We’ve barely even started our journey and it could be over by tomorrow night. Tiberius finally took pity and offered me a job. A small delivery job to the university. The teachers there purchase a fresh order of textbooks every semester. He said he’d give us free passage to the next town if we delivered them for him tomorrow.

I’m not sure how long we’ll be able to keep this up, but I’m going to keep up my optimism and hope that we’ll make it through.

[travelingparties]

10 Grasping

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* Text Under Readmore *

Fate is a very heavy word to say to me long before I’ve had my morning tea. This morning, I awoke to a knock on the door from a very frantic Priestess requesting my aid. Apparently a collection of small gods had led her to my apartment in the city and that it was all rather urgent. I like to think of myself as a helpful sort, and the Priestess was very insistent on my coming, so I agreed.

I did not expect a day's journey to my old village. The place was just as I had escaped it, a complete ruin with soot covered paths and crumbling buildings. Just as it had been 8 years ago when the King had slayed the Slobbering God. 

The Priestess urged me to help her and her collections of gods in finding… something. The details were rather vague and, after an hour of digging through traumatic memories, I had all but given up. Right until I had found the girl.

Underneath the floorboards of an old home, there was a small puppy. Nude and very clearly malnourished. I had supposed this was what the Priestess had in mind?  She must have met the girl and wanted confirmation on if she was in fact from my village. I didn’t recognize her, and certainly a dog in a village of hares would have stood out like a sore paw pad.

I asked the girl her name, and she said that she did not know. I asked the girl how old she was, and she said that she did not know. I asked the girl if she would like to come with me, and she said that she was afraid of hurting me.

When I found the Priestess again, she told me the truth. The full truth.

The girl was the Slobbering God. After Her slaying, Her soul had been revived, reborn. The small and forgotten gods had been taking care of her within the rubble of the dead village for the last eight years. And now the Gods had whispered to the Priestess of my fate, my destiny. The girl needed a mother, someone to protect and nurture and love her, in order to prevent her soul from reawakening and bringing about the end of the world.

I really wished I had the time for that morning tea.

The Priestess and I took the girl back into the city, which I thought was a rather unintelligent idea. What if someone recognized her? What if it overwhelmed her? What if she hurt someone?

The Priestess told me to have more faith in her than that. It’s difficult to sympathize with a strange child who once murdered my friends and family.

We took her to my home, for a bath, clothes and a meal. The girl was starving and ate everything I offered her. I can see her ribcage and the clothes that the Priestess had found hung off of her frame. At least she wasn’t filthy anymore.

As night fell, we allowed the girl to rest in a comfortable bed for the first time in her life. She fell asleep so fast, I wondered when the last time she slept was. Meanwhile, the two of us (and the many small and forgotten gods that followed the Priestess like a shepherd’s herd of bumbles)  sat out in my living room with tea and a warm hearth.

The Priestess explained to me that come morning, I had to flee the city with the girl and never look back. I was to pack my things as fast as possible and I was to travel, fleeing towns and cities and anyone that might do her harm, until she reached adulthood, when our destinies would split. I asked her to come with us, but she told me that her fate lies within the city walls.

I do not want to be traveling with a terrible god under the guise of a loving mother and ward for the next ten years, but what else am I to do? I seek some sort of answer, or perhaps this is some form of prayer, that I can be rid of the child someday soon.

[travelingparties]

The Guardian

Esmerelda (she/her) and her ward, Aria (she/her).

A Hare and an Australian Shepherd Puppy.

Esmerelda is generally Hopeful and Mothering. People assume she is Organized and Correct.

Look: Cloak Big Enough To Hide Your Ward, Thick Muddy Boots, Shield Almost As Big As You, Forged Paperwork.

How Esmerelda met Aria: She found her near a battlefield, hidden away. She is ‡lost.

What about Aria Esmerelda would die to defend: She contains the very soul of the Slobbering God. She is ‡starving.

Aria carries with her: A poncho the color of shadows, gifted by a crafty vagabond Esmerelda assumed was untrustworthy and A notebook and set of charcoals, gifted by a caring old teacher.

[travelingparties]

Grasping - Year One

Stones Marked: 3/9

Grasping this year is marked by: - Leafless Trees - Fog Banks Rolling In - Cold and Rocky Soil - Sharing Smokes - Half-Frozen Lakes - Muddy Leaves Across the Ground - A Creeping Sense of Unease