At first my face hurt. Around me it was dark and damp. Water dripped near by with an unsteady rhythm. If I hadn’t broken my nose in the fall I am sure I would have noticed a horrendous odor too. It felt like I was knee deep in runny mud. It was sewage and I was covered head to toe in it. I managed to pull out my phone and turn on the flashlight app. Above me, way above me, there was the hole from the sidewalk I fell through. Just a blacker spot in the dark. No one was up there, at least no one I wanted noticing me down here. I surveyed my more immediate area and found a narrow walkway next to the river of sludge I had landed in. I climbed onto the ledge and sat.
My phone was getting no signal down there but that also meant that I was no longer being tracked either. A second small bonus, if you count a broken nose stopping the sewer smell as number one. There was lots of battery life and only two directions to choose. This way or that way. I picked ‘that’ way, guessing it where I wanted, and went.
I ignored several ladders that led up to the street over the next hour and when straight at every intersection I could. If this sewage line was following a specific street than I figured I should be heading away from where my phone’s location dropped dead on them. I wasn’t supposed to turn off my phone, that was against the rules. Well, I hadn’t and I also didn’t fall through the sidewalk on purpose either. The timer that was started at the beginning of our little game will show the phone stayed on the whole time.
Upon reaching a grating blocking the way forward I backtracked the the last ladder and went up. There was no one near by the mouth the alley as I dragged myself out. There was however a campus park with operational fountain across the street. That gave me a quick place to clean up a little before running the rest of the way to the Quad without being caught. Victory was mine, even if at a price.


The rain fell oily and red without warmth. She grew up with warm rain back home. Clean rain too, not this stuff. One could breath the air on this world but no one ever mistook the weather for normal. She wondered how the terraforming could have gone so wrong. Someone decided it was good enough and let people settle. Crops grew and that was enough for them it seemed. No one came here by choice that wasn’t running from somewhere else.  A place of runaways and rejects. That’s why Annabed had hid here.
It had been nearly half a year since her ship blew up around her with all hands on board. Half a year of dodging the Alliance too. Now here she sat in the red rain waiting for that last piece of the puzzle, the last bit of information about who had set her and her crew up. She let slip to the right people where she was. Whoever came for her would have the answer she wanted. Then it would be time for payback. A debt was owed and Annabed always paid her debts. In full.

The Crash Landing

Round and round they went. They crashed through the atmo with a dead pilot and no helm controls. Annabed had gotten to an escape pod but it wasn’t releasing from the ship. There was nothing she could do.
Without warning the pod shot into free fall as the ship exploded. Annabed was slammed forward against the pod straps. It was a sudden change from blaring alarms and klaxons to the howl of wind. There was only moments before landfall with the pod firing thrusters to stop the plunge. Once still she hit the hatch release and kicked her way free. Looking up she could see debris from her former ship raining down around her, down into a city.
Sounds flooded over her anew. People were screaming, there were sirens. She ran, because while the illegal cargo blew up with the ship, the warrant for her arrest had not.

Cursed by The Mysteries.

He awoke on a battlefield surrounded by the bodies of the fallen. He was the only living creature for miles. He had no memory of who he was, how he got there, nor why he might be in such a place.

Something was very wrong it seemed as he stood up. He was not only uninjured but his clothing was spotlessly clean. His clothes were a dull brown, of simple make, and that of a child’s. A child’s sizing. That seemed extra wrong. He had a sense that he should be older and taller than he appeared. He looked carefully at his hands. They were small, clean, unblemished, and clearly had not seen any hard labour. That too seemed wrong. Somehow he knew hard labour, knew even how to wield a sword he thought.

Looking around himself, in the bright midday light, he could see the bodies had been looted for the most part, but here and there lay a few older weapons. A rusted Orc blade was closest and he bent to grab it. As his hand touched the weapon a wave of nausea swept over him. He took his hand away, the nausea left as quickly as it came on. Even more strangeness he thought. Thinking it might just be the Orcish weapon, he sought out other blades. Yet, every time the nausea returned suddenly upon touching any sword, knife, dagger, spear, or other edged weapon he could find. His confusion only deepened when he came to the body of a robed man and reached down to take the staff next to him. This time a sense of well being and calmness infused him from head to toe. He looked closer at the staff and could see nothing more than a plain wooden staff of simple make with obvious nicks from long use. Again, he could not remember using such a weapon, nor learning how to use one, but somehow he knew he could wield it in a time of need.

Still holding the staff he searched in the distance for the first time since he had awoke. There were mountains to the distant south and forest off to the west. Closer to the north there were wisps of smoke from what he felt was a village. How he knew this he did not know, but he did know that was where he was needed. He was drawn to this village and he could think of no other place to go so he began to walk north.

Darkness was near fully onset as he approached the village. It was easily apparent that the battle had passed through here and destroyed much of the village. The wisps of smoke he had seen at a distance were coming from smouldering ruins. While the walls of a few buildings did still stand, there were no people that could be seen. A small storage building seemed to still have both a roof and a door. He had walked directly up to it without consciously being aware of doing so until reaching the door itself. He did not know why, as it was a storage building after all, but he had a feeling to knock. So that is what he did.

“Who is that?” The voice from within the building was strained, as though in great pain.

“I am nobody.” It was the first time he had spoken aloud since he awoke. He was surprised by how high pitched his voice sounded. It was not the voice he should have, but again, could not remember his proper voice.

“Well ‘Nobody’, come in. I won’t hurt you and I doubt you could do me much more harm.”

Nobody lifted the latch and opened the door to find an older man in fine clothing laying on the floor. It was clear at first glance that the man was mortally wounded. There was a nasty wound in his belly that seeped blood and other things into a pool on the ground around the man. His skin was very pale and his head rested on a backpack.

“My name is Lorrimor, and I fear we shall not be friends for long. This wound has taken its toll and I am near death.”

As Lorrimor spoke Nobody barely heard him for he suddenly knew why he was right there at that moment in time, at this place. Without thinking about it, he knelt next to Lorrimor and reached forth his hand to the wound. A great light suddenly filled the little room and his hand was not a hand, but rather a brilliant radiance that was an extension of himself. He had become living energy and as that energy touched the wound, it healed. Lorrimor’s colouring returned a bit to his skin and there was hardly a scar were the wound had been in his belly. Slowly the light faded and Nobody’s hand was just a hand. Still just a boy’s hand, but suddenly this no longer seemed wrong.

“By the Power’s That Be! Thank you!” Lorrimor stared at him in grateful confusion.

“I don’t know how I did that, but you’re welcome. I think that is why I came here. Though I feel there is more. I just don’t know what.”

“Tell me how you came to find me, please.”

Nobody briefly explained his short, only hours long, existence. He could only remember things from that afternoon since he had awoken. Lorrimor questioned him on details about his feelings on trying to pick up weapons, deciding to come to the village, of why he knocked, and how he knew to reach out to touch the wound to heal it.

“In my past I have studied these things and I believe you to be an Oracle. A rare one at that. I have never heard of an adult being changed into a child before, memory erased. May I see that staff of you found?”

Nobody handed him the staff. Lorrimor looked it over and handed it back then looked closer at the boy in front of him using the light from a glowing coin on a string he had with him. Frowning at the end he finally spoke.

“Your staff has no magic I can discern nor do your clothes. You seem like an average boy at first glance. Yet, I see no marks on you like a boy of your age would have. No scars, no scrapes, nor any dirt. You do have a birthmark on your neck. I have seen it before and I think I may know who you may have been. I cannot be certain and I do not think you are to know this information or you would have woken with your memories intact. I will not circumvent the Mysteries that put you here without that knowledge. If they mean for you to know it, they will reveal it to you in time. Why they made you bald though is odd even for the Mysteries.”

Nobody reached up for the first time and felt his head. He was indeed bald. Not even stubble grew on his head. He wanted to know about the birthmark but felt that Lorrimor was correct about his not being meant to know yet.

“Do you think I will grow into an adult again or am I cursed to remain a child forever?”

Lorrimor chuckled. “All Oracles are cursed somehow. It balances the gifts they receive it is thought. You will likely remain a child till the day you die, regardless of the years that pass. I think you may have more surprise gifts in you to be revealed yet given the nature of your curse. ”

As Lorrimor said those words, Nobody could feel the truth of them coming forth. Something was outside that meant them both harm. As he stood and turned to the door, two zombies tried to enter the building. Both zombies, in their thirst for flesh, pushed at the same time through the doorway, getting stuck for a moment. Again not knowing how he did it, Nobody let his mind relax and a wave of energy burst forth from him in all directions. After the wave passed the zombies slumped in the doorway unmoving.

“I do believe you just saved me again… Nobody? Is that what we are to call you?”

“Seems appropriate for some reason.”

“Oddly I think so too. ‘I owe my life to Nobody’ shall be my new turn of phrase.” With that he chuckled and stood having been healed again by the same burst that killed the zombies. He began to gather his gear together. “We cannot stay here so close to the battlefield at night. More undead will come. Now that I am well enough to travel we must leave else your gift of life to me is for naught.”

Nobody stared at the zombies for a moment before turning to Lorrimor. “I cannot come with you. I have more that I need to do and you are not yet fully well. Travel due east till the moon is full, then turn north. You will be safe. I do not know how I know this, just know that I do.”

Lorrimor took Nobody’s hand and placed in it the small coin that glowed. “Take this as a small token of my thanks. If I could give you more I would. I will never forget this night. I hope we meet again.”

Without another word they parted, Lorrimor to the east, and Nobody to the south. Towards the battlefield now filling with undead.

(This was a character background I wrote up for a Pathfinder RPG I am playing in with friends)