“Heyla, Stevie,” says Bert as he enters The Jaunty Mug.

“Hello, Bert.” says my avatar, Stevie, as he brews Bert’s double macchiato.

Julie arrives next, followed by Sandra.

“I couldn’t help myself,” says Julie, half apologetically. “My character won’t leave me alone, so I had to write another story about her past.”

“You’re making me look bad,” says Sandra with a grin. “Meegan isn’t very forthcoming with information about her past.”

“Skrie is a chatterbox, except when she’s not.”

“I wish Meegan would open up to me like that. She’s been a closed book so far. I bet she opens up as we play, that happened with one of my other characters.”

Stevie delivers the first round to the table as the door opens and the rest of the Slaver’s Nemesis enters the Mug. He greets them and heads to the bar to prepare the rest of their drinks as the group settles around the table.

“Julie is excited about her character. Or her character is excited to finally come to life, one of the two. Either way, she has another story to share.”

###

Skrie slipped into the alley, hoping the guards had not seen her dodge into the space that opened on her left. She knew this alley hid a bolt hole, but she wouldn’t dare use it, not yet. If the guards found it, the Guild Master would skin her alive—literally. The thought made her shudder. He might do it anyway, especially after he’d caught Bix.

Bix had been an independent thief in the city—and also one of Skrie’s best friends. A shapeshifter, Bix could get into any building or establishment in the city. Their small band of urchins did what they could to thwart the worst instincts of the local Thieves Guild. They especially helped the poorest residents of the city. Bix and his gang preferred to relieve the fat purses carried by the rich and leave them with the most destitute of families. They never left so much that the guard would be suspicious, but just enough to feed the family for a day or so.

But after Gerich had betrayed them, she knew she had to get out of Noxport—and never come back. That mantra burned in the back of her mind—get out and don’t come back. Skrie repeated it over and over as she crept through the alley, keeping to the shadows. She froze when guards stuck their heads in, looking for movement. They saw nothing; then passed by.

Skrie breathed a sigh of relief. She crept back to the street, then slipped into the flow of the Market crowd, making her way toward the unguarded sewer she knew led out of the city. Along the route, she raided several hidden stashes of gold she shouldn’t to know about.

Get out and don’t come back. The mantra repeated in her mind as she slipped into the Western Wood, following a track north and east out of Noxport.

###

“I love new players,” says Chuck after Julie finishes reading. “I can’t wait to see how your character plays out.”

“Me too,” says Yvonne. “Now I feel bad about not writing Aeryn’s backstory in such detail.”

“There’s still time.”

“And, the pressure is on,” pipes in Mac. “Looks like I’ll have to dive into Roland’s story to match Julie’s enthusiasm.”

Julie blushes as the rest of the players voice their commiseration.

“Anyone else?”

“Not this week.”

“Okay, then.” Looking at the clock, Bert says, “I don’t think we’re quite ready to start. Why don’t we meet back here next week, and everyone bring a character story. This will be fun.”

“Says you,” complains Chuck. “You don’t have to write a story about your character.”

“No. I get to write the entire campaign instead.”

“Oof.”

“I’ll see everyone next week. I’ll try not to let Skrie overwhelm me with stories.”

The group teases each other as they head out the door. Bert is the last to leave, as usual.

“Aislynn sends her thanks,” he says, to no one in particular. “She’s feeling much better.”

“See you next week,” says Stevie, with a nod.

I send my usual Blessing to the group, including Aislynn.