Godlings

Lizard
g o dl ings
i ss ue 1

GFFanzine2.05.indd 1 8/30/17 9:34 AM

 Godling Pattern 1
Maayan Priel
godlings issue 1
A Godsfall Fanzine
Creative Director: Maayan Priel | Chief Graphic Designer: VJ Brown | Cover Art by Sierra Sharp
Characters and setting by Aram Vartian and the Godsfall Cast

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 Contents
Godlings Criminals!
A Wicked
Lizard .................................. cover Parody
Zambo....................................... 12

W hen I first opened the discord

server it was out of desire to
have a place to talk all things
Godsfall, without the limitations of tumblr
Godling Pattern 1
Maayan Priel .............................. ii A Dwafling Disaster
Kinsey....................................... 14
or twitter. I never expected such a great
community to flourish out of it, one that Queen Phryane
offers support, advice, and on occasion
(or, rather, always) terrible memes.
Lizard ........................................ vi Rina
Goblin...................................... 17
None of this could have happened without the
podcast itself. This labor of love of Aram, Kay, The Skill Not Taken
Doug, Michael, Stephen, Kelly and Joe has been
such a welcoming space. The story of Godsfall is
Vida............................................. 1 The Way Back Home
compelling, but even beyond that, it’s accepting Nicole........................................ 18
– it’s a coming of age story where nothing is
off limits; not gender, not sexuality, and not Pera Poem
race. Placing women, LGBT people, and
people of colors as gods is not just a narrative
Whitney....................................... 5 Oinker’s Tale
implement, but a political statement that has Izzy........................................... 22
been severely needed in the world of d&d.
Godling Pile
I think I speak for all of us in the community
that Godsfall has created a sort of “safe space”
Marin.......................................... 6 Contibutors
for us. Not necessarily one that doesn’t have Writers...................................... 23
faults, but one that is always willing to correct
them, one that is willing to listen and learn What’s a God to a
and improve. This fanbook is a way for us to
try and repay that; a way for us to show how
Nonbeliever? Contibutors
much we love and appreciate the cast which Shiloh.......................................... 7 Artists....................................... 24
has done so much for us. We hope you enjoy
this book a fraction of how much we enjoy
your show, although considering how much What Are You Doing Godling Pattern 2
Here?
that is, it might be mathematically impossible.
Maayan Priel................................v
With a lot of love and appreciation,
Vida........................................... 11
Maayan
(discord mom)
and the rest of the Godsfall Discord

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 The Skill Not Taken
Vida
Queen Phryane
Lizard
H aldir reached forwards and pulled
open the door. The hinged creaked,
wailed, and then with a crunch
broke free of the doorframe, forcing him to
quickly step back as the door toppled over.
“This is going well,” Phryane commented,
looking over his shoulder.
He looked up to the ceiling, and then down
at the floor, seeking to make an appraisal of
the structural stability of the building. He
didn’t know anything about architecture,
beyond how to analyze it for it’s aesthetic
or fortifiable value. He could conclude that
this cabin, built in the middle of the dense
forest where he and Phryane had found
themselves, would not protect them from
a catapult or platoon of soldiers, and only
had aesthetic value if you liked that sort of
thing. He could not conclude if the roof
would cave in, or if the floor would hold.
He took a step inside, letting his
eyes adjust to the gloom.
A kind person would call it rustic, a bit
of a fixer-up, perhaps even bucolic. Lord
Haldir Loran of Ryland would have liked
to call it a shithole, but still wasn’t sure
about the young queen’s sense of humor.
Instead, he took stock of the situation.
“It doesn’t smell too damp in here, so perhaps
if it does rain we will keep dry. The stove
doesn’t look like it’s falling apart, so if we
get a fire going we’ll keep warm, and there’s
still a pan so we could cook something.”
Phryane scoffed. “And you know how to cook?”
Haldir rolled his eyes. “Of course I do,”
he lied. “Do you know how to cook?”
“Of course I don’t,” Phryane rolled her
eyes right back at him. “When would
I ever have learned to cook?”
He floundered for a moment. He was royalty,
why would he know how to cook? “One can
not be too reliant on servants, your Highness.”
He gestured around him. “You never know
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when you might be caught without them.”
She huffed. “I suppose that is fair, and this
room is more comfortable than a stone room
in an old temple with a decayed dwarf and
a snoring halfling. We may as well–”
“Wait,” Haldir said. “I beg your pardon?”
“For interrupting me? You have it. Now we
should get started. As you know so much about
cooking, you see to the stove. I’ll check around,
see if there’s anything else salvageable in  or
around this dwelling.” Phryane walked over the
threshold and brushed past him to beginning
examining a pile he had dismissed as garbage.
Bemused, he turned to the stove.
Getting down to his knees, he lifted the
latch and pulled open the heavy iron
door.  Fortunately these hinges held.
He whistled through his teeth.
“Find anything interesting?”
“This stove is disgusting.” He stared at the
mounds of ash. “What about you?”
“Well, I did find something that could
help you with that. Here, catch.”
Barely turning his head to see what
Phryane was throwing to him, he stuck
out his arm. He snatched it out of the air
easily, gripping the grubby, deteriorating
piece of cloth. He turned to look at her.
She regarded him with arched eyebrow and
an unreadable expression. “I’m going to
check the outside, there’s nothing in here.”
Somehow, despite being in simple traveler’s
clothes, she flounced past him. He turned
to watch her leave. He didn’t know it was
possible to flounce without even a petticoat.
Refocusing, he took mental inventory of his
current worldly possessions. Two golden lions,
one set of clothes, one suit of the Armor of
House Loran, one Amulet of the Shadows,
one Ring of the Shadows, and now: one
disgusting piece of fabric. These things he
had with him, they prepared him for combat
1
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 and kept his mind his own. They were really
everything he had expected to need when
it came to dealing with Phryane. Clearly,
he had not expected to need to clean an
ashy stove to avoid being caught in a lie.
He spread the cloth on the floor and went
outside to grab a stick. There were some
scraping noises from behind the house, but he
ignored them in favor of not making a fool
of himself. Back inside, he knelt down and set
to work, poking and prodding with the stick,
trying to lever the chunks out onto the cloth.
The ash near the opening was easy enough
to get at, but as he worked at the stuff further
back, the stick skidded about, breaking the
chunks into fine powder that he hopelessly
tried to sweep out with the thin wand.
Really, this whole thing was a waste of
time. He should just kill her and be done
with it. The were out in the wilderness,
no one would ever know! Or at least, he
assumed that they were in the wilderness.
It bothered him that he didn’t know how
they had gotten there. His mind should have
been warded against such effects. He should
not be lost. He should not be so far from
Ani. He should not be stranded out here in
this crummy cabin getting slowly covered
in soot. He had better things to be doing.
He stabbed the stick forwards, trying to
maneuver something, anything, out of the
fucking iron contraption that was apparently
his life now. The stick stuck on a groove, bent,
then sprang back, catapulting ash into his face.
He froze, closing his eyes, measuring
his reaction. Lips pursed into a line, he
gripped the stick tightly. Now was not
the time to do anything foolish.
With a soft snap, the stick broke in his closed
fist. He released a pent up breath, and
opened his eyes. Carefully, he set the pieces
of the stick down on the floor. He didn’t
like what he was going to have to do, but at
this point he didn’t see a way around it.
Sitting back, knees folded underneath him, he
reached out a hand, and in it, energy, orange
like a dying sun but crackling like lightning,
gathered. It formed, flat, like a short wide
blade, but with edges turned up to form a
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curve. He held, in his hand, a Pact Trowel.
It worked perfectly.
 He was just tying the corners of the cloth
together when Phryane returned. She
stooped, setting several dusty bottles on the
ground. “I found a root cellar. It didn’t seem
to have any roots, but it did have these.”
He regarded the bottles. “Is that wine?”
“I assume so.” Phryane stood, brushing herself
off. “If the layers of grime were anything to go
off of, it will either be delicious, or vinegar.”
“We shall have to find out together.”
He raised one eyebrow. Then, in a fit
of inspiration, he added, “although I
may want to use some for cooking.”
“Indeed. And I suppose, like a good chef,
you must taste it beforehand to get a sense
of the flavor profile?” The corner of her lip
tightened, pulling her mouth just upwards.
“I may need to, your Highness.” He bowed
his head slightly. “By your leave, of course.”
Her smirk widened, turning almost into an
amused smile. “You have it. But we can’t dine
on wine alone.” She took out a small velvet
bag, and reaching into it, pulled out a quiver
of crossbow bolts. She deftly strapped it about
her waist, then knelt down. Reaching in again,
she began pulling out the piece of a crossbow.
“You’ll do the hunting?”
 “It seems I am the one prepared to do so.”
She payed close attention to the work of
attaching the lathe to the body of the crossbow.
 “I’ll go gather wood then, to cook what
you find for me.” He stood up, and
took the bag of ashes with him.
 Phryane’s eyes followed him as he
walked out the door.  He bent, setting
the bag down to right of the doorway,
then continued on into the forest.
 The young queen had presented him with the
best opportunity, he mused as he stuffed tinder
into his pockets. An abandoned cabin, and
alcohol. He could get her drunk, and then do
away with her with ease. No witnesses, no risk.
 Unless she planned to do the exact same
thing to him. He didn’t even know for sure
that those bottles had been found in a root
cellar; they could have been in her little bag
the whole time. They could be poisoned,
or drugged, or perhaps even magical.
 No, he was getting ahead of himself. There was
quite a bit of grime on the bottles, they couldn’t
be something a queen of Ani would have. It was
most likely they really were from that root cellar,
but that didn’t mean he could let his guard
down. If she was the one sharing the bottles,
she was no doubt confident that she could
outlast him. Of course that assumption may be
based on his late brother’s weak tolerance, but
he couldn’t gamble on her being wrong. She
had some connection to the dead gods, and
there was no way of knowing how this would
change the effectiveness of alcohol. No, he
could not try to outdrink her. Anything he could
do, any trick he could pull, she could match.
 Haldir was walking back to the cabin,
arms laden with wood, when he saw her.
 Phryane was standing still, crossbow winched
back and up at her shoulder, her eyes focused
ahead. About her, animals were gathering. Birds
flew from their perches to land throughout
the clearing, squirrels climbed down trees to
gather at her feet, a weasel slunk out of the
underbrush. Slowly, moving as if in a quiet
dream, a buck made its way forward. Its antlers
were still soft with velvet, each footfall light on
the leaf strewn carpet of the forest. It looked at
Phryane, its dark eyes filled with love, looking
down the shaft of the bow and into her sharp
expression. It breathed, completely calm in her
presence, completely trusting under her sway.
 She pulled the trigger.
 Haldir turned, and quietly made
his way back to the cabin.
 When Phryane returned he was sorting
the wood into piles. Her arrival was
announced by a scraping sound slowly getting
closer, then the soft thud of a body being
dropped. Her footsteps approached, one
foot landing on the creaking threshold.
 He held one of the large logs, and called
on the strength granted by his patron,
feeling energy coursing through his muscles.
Turning slightly, so that she could see him,
he dug his fingers into its broken edge, and
pulled, splitting the log down it’s grain.
 He was satisfied by the low whistle
that escaped her mouth.
 “I see you have returned,” he said,
reaching for another log.
 There were a few spots of blood on her
clothes. “I, yes, I have.” She was distracted
for only a moment, but still managed to make
it sounds lofty. “I do hope that venison is
suited to your palette. I know that some find
it gamey, but I have no objection to it.”
 “And neither do I. It is a fine thing to
bring home from a hunt.” Haldir focused,
and after a moment split another log.
 “Good.” Phryane nodded, then jerked her
head towards the door. “Well, it is outside,
you can butcher it, then get to cooking.”
 Haldir sighed, realizing how much
work was ahead of him. How long
would it be until they could eat?
 “Is something wrong?” She gave
him an appraising look.
 Lying had not served him well so far this day,
time for a different approach. “I will admit that
I have only a passing familiarity with dividing
up an animal. But more than that, there are
a lot of things to be done and if I’m to do
them all myself it will take quite a while.”
 “Ah,” Phryane said. She stood
for a moment, unmoving.
 “Your Highness?” Haldir asked
when she didn’t say anything.
 “Hold on, I’m trying to figure out if I’m more
capable of lighting a fire or field dressing a
deer.” She contemplated for another moment,
then nodded. “I’ll clean the deer. It can’t be that
hard, you just don’t use any of the organs.”
 “I understand that some see it an art
form, but I’m certain that with a first try
you can produce something adequate.”
 She smiled at the reference to a familiar
joke. “Then I best get to it.” She reached
into her bag and pulled out a knife, then
turned to exit. “Don’t burn the cabin
down, that would be most unfortunate,”
8/30/17 9:34 AM

she called back over her shoulder.
 So her little bag held a crossbow and a knife.
What other weapons was she familiar with?
What else did she have stored in that bag?
 There were a few more logs to split. He
grabbed another and winced slightly as he dug
his now raw fingers in, his muscles flexing and
straining until the wood gave way with a crack.
 He didn’t really have any concrete reason to
fear her. As far as he knew, she had no idea of
his intentions towards her. She had no reason to
kill him; she already held a higher seat of power
than he. The only thing one could gain from
his death would be to send Ryland into chaos
from the loss of its final heir, and Phryane was
doing everything she could to maintain order.
 Really, he didn’t need to be so wary. As long as
he kept his plans hidden, he was most likely safe
from her. Not that he would change any of his
actions based off of that comforting thought.
 But he couldn’t plan his next steps
now. Unlike splitting wood, building
a fire actually required focus.
 He’d seen it done before. A little nest
made out of tinder, and a stick rotated
back and forth quickly until it produced
an ember. Simple, in theory.
 In ten minutes he was sweating, frustrated,
and hadn’t seen a single wisp of smoke.
 Glancing over his shoulder to check that
Phryane was still outside, he shoved the wood
into the stove and hunching over to block any
vision. He whispered a few words and held
his hands just so, and the wood came alight.
A small flame, a crackling orange at first, that
grew quickly from it’s magical spark. The
striking color of his patron’s magic faded into
the flickering range of color native to fire.
 Leaving the stove’s door open, he lifted
the pan resting on top to examine it.
 It wasn’t rusted, although it was as grimy
as everything else in this shack. He did
his best to dust it out with his hand.
 Dirt probably wouldn’t help the flavor of
the meat. Haldir set the pan back on the
stove, then moved to check the wine.
 At the very least, he knew how to do this.
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Taking off one shoe, he found a sturdy
looking part of the wall and hit the bottle
against it a few times, until the cork came
out enough for him to pull it free.
 With a pop, the bottle opened, and out
from it came the smell of rotten fruit. He
frowned, then took a quick swig anyway.
 Immediately his tongue felt dry. The wine
was bitter and overwhelmingly sour, but
not the sour of citrus. This was the sweet
sourness of old fruit, grapes left in the field to
ferment on their own under the sun. All the
aspects of this flavor were counter to what
he imagined when he thought of a fine wine.
Most of them were even counter to what
he imagined in a barely drinkable wine.
 Everything in this cabin, everything in
these woods, were terrible. There was no
exception, not a single redeeming quality.
He wished fervently that he knew who to
curse for this. Who deserved to be destroyed
for putting him into this situation.
 He poured the whole bottle into the pan.
He didn’t know how to cook, and he never
would. Hopefully the Queen of Ani would
be done butchering the buck soon.
Pera Poem
Whitney
My world is fire
Fire is the first thing I remember
The blinding light of day, fire
The love of family, fire
All is fire in different ways
It flows through everything I am and everything I do
The spark of flame dances in my mind, lighting my world
When he died, I felt fire
A flaming, burning whirlwind of grief surrounded me
When they locked me away, I was dim
No hope, no flame, no light in my mind
I thought it was the end of my light
They had doused me, snuffed my spark
Ice cold chains replaced the flames
And all was darkness
A friend is fire
A struck match burning in the dark of my mind
A smile like the burning of the noonday sun
Kindling that allowed my spark to grow once more
Knowing there are people to care for my flame
They let it grow and keep it safe
The comforting warmth of family
Like sitting in front of a campfire after a long day
Like warming up after standing in a cold rain
And he is a fire like I’ve never known
His strength is like a blaze I’ve never seen
And when he looks at me
He reignites he flame I thought I put out
And within the passionate flame I thought I’d never feel
The spark of hope
8/30/17 9:34 AM
 What’s a God to a
Nonbeliever?
Shiloh
X ion looked at the orc village below
them, trying to ignore the death grip
Caitlyn had on his arm. She’d woken
up and had immediately latched onto Xion
begging him and Sirena to abandon their watch
and check in on the village, but when Xion tried
to ask her why she just said, “we have to hurry.”
Sirena had taken the time to shake Rina
and put her on watch, but even that
seemed to be too much delay. Now that
the village was finally in their sights,
Xion hoped Caitlyn would explain.
Godling Pile “Th-there are antitheots down
there,” she said, “I-I saw them.”
Marin
Xion felt his own back stiffen as Sirena glanced
between him, Caitlyn, and the village in front
of them. The village where their friend Uragon
was trying to put together an army to raise
against Vistrix. The village that, now that Xion
was looking for it, had a lot more activity in the
streets than there should be at this time of night.
Xion made up his mind and pulled out
his staff. “We need to warn Uragon
and get him out of there.”
Sirena’s lips pressed together and for a
moment it looked like she was going to
say something, but she decided against it.
Caitlyn, meanwhile, had let go of Xion’s arm
and was already moving toward the village.
Xion took a deep breath and followed her.
It surprised him how many places there
were to hide in such a small town. Not that
he wasn’t grateful, especially as he started to
feel Caitlyn’s anxiety. There were a lot more
antitheots here than he’d been able to see from
the hill. No horses, at least not that he’d seen
yet, but soldiers swarmed through the streets
all wearing armor so familiar it made Xion’s
stomach drop. He could only imagine how
Caitlyn must feel right now. He’d managed
to escape before his powers were noticed, but
Caitlyn had actually been taken, away from
her family, from her home, for the magic she
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couldn’t hide. It had to be hard for her to be
here again, leading him to her captors, even
though she’d barely gotten away the first time.
He turned to say... he wasn’t quite sure,
but he’d probably be able to come up
with something vaguely inspiring on
the spot, when he noticed something,
someone, out of the corner of his eye.
Fohsa.
Xion had to quickly shut his mouth before
he gasped and gave away their position.
What was he doing here?
He was so close, Xion could have called
out and he’d turn. The could have had
an actual conversation and something in
Xion burned so badly at the thought. He
wanted to talk to Fohsa, he realized. He
wanted to explain why he’d left in such
a hurry and what he was doing now.
But Caitlyn had moved into the
shadows of the nearest building and
Sirena had her hand on her sword.
Not to mention Fohsa would attack Xion
on sight. He knew that, he just wished he
didn’t. He held his breath as he watched
his brother scan the area once, twice, and
then finally move on, out of sight.
He waited another second before
turning to his companions.
“We need to get back to camp,” he
said, keeping his voice pitched low so it
wouldn’t be overheard. “Together we
can deal with this but with Fohsa here,
the three of us just aren’t enough.”
Xion looked around when panic flashed
across Sirena’s face. Where was Caitlyn?
“She left,” Sirena said, fingers drumming on the
pommel of her sword. “I don’t know where.”
“I do. She’s going to warn Uragon. That’s why
8/30/17 9:34 AM
 she got us up in the first place. Sirena, you need
to get back to camp. We don’t know how many
antitheots are down here and there could be
more in the hills. You need to warn our friends.”
Sirena nodded, slowly letting go of her weapon.
“I’ll warn them, you find Caitlyn.” She hesitated
for a moment then said, “and be careful.”
Xion closed his eyes and allowed
himself a deep breath. “You too.”
Sirena nodded, then ran back toward the camp.
She’d be fine, Xion told himself. She’d be fine.
He, meanwhile, needed to find Uragon.
And Caitlyn. Hopefully one would lead to
the other. And he needed to move quickly.
He ended up cutting down two
antitheots (no one he knew, luckily)
before he ran into his brother.
As he raised his staff and the seekerstone on
the hilt of Fohsa’s sword glowed bright astral
pink, illuminating the familiar black metal
of the banesword and the look of hatred on
Fohsa’s face. It quickly changed to surprise
when he saw who his sword was leveled at.
“Xion?”
“Fohsa I-” Xion cut off when he saw his
brother’s attention flicker between himself
and the stone. The surprise hardened to a
familiar expression of determination.
“I have to take you in,” Fohsa said.
“I’m not making an exception
because you’re my brother.”
Xion stepped forward, his own staff ready.
“And I’m not going with you just because
you’re my brother. So the way I see it, we
stand at an impasse.” He tightened his grip
on his staff to stop himself from fidgeting.
He had to project calm and confidence.
Fohsa didn’t lower his sword. Xion
hadn’t expected him to.
“So we fight,” he said, his voice tight.
Fohsa nodded seriously. “We fight.”
Fosha moved first, closing the distance between
them with a two handed strike that would have
cleaved right through Xion if he didn’t push the
sword away with his divinity. Instead of cutting
him in two, the broadsword cut a deep scar
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in the ground, right next to where he stood.
Xion hurried to throw a force shield
between himself and his brother.
Instead of focusing on tactics though, or
thinking through the way Fohsa moved,
he could only remember every blow that
had felled him, every crack of the practice
sword and every bruise it left. Fohsa was
better than him, that was inarguable.
He believed, he had to, when he was
younger, that strength was not the end all
be all of combat. That if you were smart,
if you were clever, you could beat a much
stronger opponent. He had striven to be
that person, to have the skill to one day beat
his much stronger brother. He hadn’t even
gotten close before everything changed.
Now though? He was a godling. He was
more powerful than any mortal in the
world. He fended off an army of orcs with
his friends. A simple sword fight should be
beneath him. He was the strong one here.
But Fosha was skilled. He was smart. He’d
been trained to hunt mages. With so much
on the line Xion couldn’t just trust in his
powers. And if there was one thing experience
taught, it was that he wouldn’t win this fight.
He jumped over the sword Fohsa swung
at his legs, but it was his shield that saved
him from the elbow that otherwise would
have slammed into his shoulder.
But he had the force shield and he was going to
use it the the best of his advantage. He pressed
forward, driving Fohsa a couple steps back, and
brought his staff down in a two handed strike.
...Like a person who didn’t have magic they
could fight with. What was he thinking?
Fohsa easily parried the blow but, to Xion’s
immense surprise, he didn’t even try to riposte
and take advantage of the opening Xion had
shown him. Even with the force shield, Fohsa
could have knocked him down with a blunder
like that. So why hadn’t he? It didn’t make any
logical sense and it felt ludicrous to be thinking
about logic while he was fighting for his life
but it wasn’t until Xion blocked a telegraphed
sword strike that the pieces fell into place.
“You’re not trying to kill me,” Xion
said before he could think about it.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” Fohsa
said, taking a step back.
Me neither, Xion thought. “But you’ll hurt my
friends,” he said as he stepped forward, “you
would kill them without a second thought!”
“Xion don’t-”
“So why am I any different? Father told us
blood was important right? But I have magic
in my blood Fohsa. And I’m not going to forget
that, or pretend it’s not there or anything like
that just to keep Father happy. If you didn’t
want to hurt me, you’d accept that. Accept me.”
Fohsa’s expression hardened and he raised
his sword. “You know why I can’t do that.”
Xion took a deep breath Fohsa’s answer
hurt, but wasn’t unexpected.
“Then fight me” he said, throwing a force bolt
directly at Fohsa’s chest, “for real this time.”
Fohsa stumbled back, but didn’t seem
hurt by the blow. “FIND THE ORC!”
he bellowed to the rest of the antitheots.
“I’ll deal with my brother.”
He charged forward, and this time he didn’t
hold back. The banesword cut through
Xion’s force shield without slowing down,
and Xion barely managed to throw his staff
up in time to block the blow. He pushed
against Fohsa’s sword, but it was clear who
would win in a contest of strength. He threw
a force blast at his brother’s legs and barely
managed to dodge the retaliatory blow.
A blow that left Fohsa’s side open for another
force blast. Xion put enough power behind
that one to actually knock his brother off his
feet. He stepped forward, determined to press
his advantage, though he truthfully didn’t
know how he was going to end this fight.
He reached out with his divinity, but before
he could grasp any part of Fohsa, his brother
jumped to his feet with a sweeping kick
that took Xion’s feet right out from under
him. Before Xion could move, Fohsa raised
his sword with two hands and positioned
it over his brother’s chest. Xion felt his
skin part and blood soak into his shirt as
Fohsa pushed down on the blade.
Xion grit his teeth and tried to use the
opening to reach out with his divinity and
pull his brother’s legs out from under him.
But when he grabbed Fohsa’s legs with
his divinity, he couldn’t move them, as if
they were pillars of ironwood driven into
the ground rather than armored legs. He
pushed, but he just couldn’t exert the force
necessary to push Fohsa off his feet. His next
force bolt barely phased his brother either.
Fohsa raised his sword for a powerful two
handed strike. The wound in Xion’s side
burned as he blocked the blow and his
force shield started to flicker. His hands
shook as he pushed his own mortal strength
against his brother’s. He hoped he’d given
Sirena enough time to warn Pera and the
others. He hoped Caitlyn managed to get
away. He hoped Fohsa would kill him here
instead of taking him back to Kadar.
Xion dropped his staff and threw himself to
the side to dodge the bane sword as it buried
itself in the ground next to him. Fohsa pulled
up his sword and turned toward his brother,
but before he could strike another blow he was
knocked off his feet by a massive black shadow.
The shadow ripped through Fohsa without
hesitation, tearing him apart in a blur of claws
and teeth. Xion felt sick despite himself.
He emptied his stomach next
to his brother’s corpse.
When he looked up, he saw Caitlyn standing
across the street, in full view of any antitheot
who might look her way. The bright pink-
purple astral energy that practically radiated
off her body shone like a beacon that was
already drawing antitheots toward her.
As he watched, the bright astral energy
peeled off her body and rapidly darkened
into tendrils of shadow. As soon as they
separated from her they wove themselves
into huge shadow beasts, the size of horses
but with no eyes and twice as many teeth.
8/30/17 9:34 AM

Caitlyn didn’t move, but all of a sudden the
shadows all took off at once, racing through
the village and ripping through the antitheots
in their way. They spread through the village
like a plague, expanding into shadows when
their physical forms weren’t necessary to kill.
It look less than a minute to cut
through the stragglers.
Suddenly, Xion could only assume at the
death of the last antitheot, the shadows
disappeared at the same time the light
flickered out behind Caitlyn’s eyes and she
fell. Xion ran forward and only just managed
to catch Caitlyn before she hit the ground.
It struck him how light, how small Caitlyn was.
She felt like a bird, all fragile bones and points
and uncomfortable to hold no matter how you
tried to position yourself. The bruises from
her captivity had mostly faded, but from what
he’d seen, she didn’t generally have much of
an appetite and had yet to regain the weight
she’d lost in captivity. Xion’s stomach hadn’t
fared well through the night and realizing that
his family did this, that he was supposed to do
this to Caitlyn turned the acid in his stomach.
Before he could really examine the feelings that
thought brought though, Caitlyn began to stir.
When her eyes first opened they were unfocused
and there was a purplish tinge to the irises.
10
GFFanzine2.05.indd 10-11
But she blinked and the color was gone when
her eyes focused on his face. “A-are they all
dead?” she asked, her voice rough and small.
“Yeah,” Xion answered, trying not
to think about his brother’s lifeless
eyes. “You saved my life.”
Caitlyn’s lips turned up in the smallest smile.
“Mine as well,” Uragon said, walking up
the street toward them. He was injured,
bleeding, with arrows jutting from his
shoulder and favoring his right leg but
he was grinning. “Thank you.”
“They deserved it,” Caitlyn said before
she grabbed ahold of Xion’s shirt and
curled into his lap. “‘Sides,” she said, her
voice muffled by his shirt, “I owed you a
favor.” 

She was asleep long before Sirena
arrived with the rest of their friends.
What Are You Doing Here?
Vida
A
s they moved to go up the
stairs, the dwarf, Torrvic his
name was, noticed her look of
discomfort at the mention of undead.
“Oh, we’ve seen like, twelve of them,”
he said casually. “It’s fine! We’ve got,
they easily fall, it’s fine.” He grinned
at her. “Don’t worry about them.”
Rina laughed nervously. At least Torrvic seemed
nice, when he wasn’t demanding to know who
the fuck she was and how the fuck she got there.
He pushed past her to lead the way up
the staircase, and the others followed
him, chatting about their experience with
zombies. She hesitated for a moment, but
as one of the humans, Xion, had said, she
may as well go with them for now. Glancing
about the room had made one thing all
too clear: there was no where else to go.
She had seen them all on the battlefield;
they held their own in a fight. She could take
comfort in the fact that if it came to combat,
she could trust them with her life. But outside
of battle, they were complete strangers.
It was funny how trust worked like that. She
knew that in a fight they would keep her
alive, and she would do the same, but beyond
that? The trust she had for these people
was deep, but on one singular point. She
did not know if she could trust them with a
secret, or to be kind, or to tell her the truth.
And they clearly felt the same way towards
her. From the moment they had first laid
eyes on her, they had all been suspicious.
It was uncomfortable, and unfamiliar.
All her life she had been part of a community.
The wild elves are an insular bunch, but very
close to each other. Training to become a
guardian, she hadn’t ever expected to leave
the Ironwood, to get so far from home.
It hit her hard then, hard enough that she
nearly gasped. She was in a place that no
one her age had ever even seen. She was not
only outside of the Ironwood, but outside
of the world. She was beyond the edges
of maps. Just on the other side of the wall
to her left, through feet of hard onyx, the
Worldstorm was raging. Torrvic was right
to ask what the fuck she was doing there.
At the very least, her guardian training would
help her. On one trip with Aramil, he had
kept giving her puzzles. Infuriatingly odd
puzzles, seemingly pointless, with constantly
changing rules, all presented with a slight
grin. She thought he was just messing with
her, until she talked to Sgronch and found
out that he had gotten a similar treatment.
They were being trained to adapt. To be
able to function in unexpected situations.
The puzzles had gotten easier, Aramil’s
perpetually smug face less frustrating. She
learned how to think quickly on her feet,
how to look at what was around her and
accept it, but not let it control her. The
Union, these strangers, they were just like
that. Maybe a the stakes were a little higher,
but like that. Climbing the Union was never
something she could have prepared for, but
with her guardian training, she was prepared
to be unprepared. She could do this.
By the time Rina’s foot hit the top step, she
was feeling better. She didn’t know how
long that feeling would last, so she took
what she could get, and looked ahead.
11
8/30/17 9:34 AM
 Criminals!
A Wicked Parody
Zambo
DORRO: (spoken)
Torvic, since we work so well together, I’m
making you a member of my guild!
TORVIC: (spoken)
I don’t want to be a thief.
DORRO: (spoken)
So? The best thieves never start
out wanting to steal.
(singing)
Sometimes I see someone with
a talent close to mine
And being honest, it’s hard to
have talent that’s such a mine
My sticky hands begin to want to teach
We’ll be the best guild you’ve ever saw- or seen?
And if someone needs to learn a lesson
I simply have to step right in!
I know, I know exactly what to do
And even if I’ve not
Gotten ahold of this train of thought
I want to talk this through
With and to you
I promise
That we’ll be…
Criminals!
We’ll be the best guild to ever be!
I’ll show you how to talk the talk
How to pick a lock
Guessing the price of jewelry- Ooh!
I’ll show you how to sneak
To get around floors that creak
So you’ll be all scholarly
About thievery!
We’ll be the best guild to ever be!
You’ll make some connections
And I’ll sneak right in
To the mansions of Ani
12
GFFanzine2.05.indd 12-13
So let’s start!
Cause we’re pretty far from the best DORRO: (spoken)
Hey, I should write this down!
Do you have a pen?
Before you start saying this isn’t true
Look at this wanted poster I found of you
TORVIC: (spoken)
You’re the last friend I’ve got alive
No.
You boozer and a brother
From a different mother
DORRO: (spoken)
Be right back then!
Now when it comes to thievery
(singing)
I’m good at thievery
Though you just ignore
With some help from Piggy Poo
And think me a bore
And of course you too!
I can see right through that Bee Ess
You’re smarter than you think
There’s nothing that can stop us
So you’ll be skilled at thievery!
From becoming criminels.. Als
La la la la
La la la la
We’ll be criminals
We’ll be the best guild to ever be!
We’ll be the guild best to ev-
-er be
Sometimes I see homeless children
With no talent to stay hidden
Dorro: (offstage, shouting)
I tell them about people who start
Oh so that’s what happened to Caitlyn!!!
out
like
us
Robin Hood esque type figures or
Folks who work for the spymaster
Think they had caring family?
Pshh, not likely!
They were criminals! Yeah,
We’re all a tad criminal!
Don’t be morally uptight
Instead do what’s right
Just try to listen and be
Very very sneaky just
Like me!
13
8/30/17 9:34 AM
 A Dwafling Disaster
Kinsey
I n hindsight, messing with their
powers while drunk was the stupidest
idea they had ever had.
Except that Torrvic had challenged the
fucking God of Travel to a race and that was
something Dorro just couldn’t say no to.
“A peregrine can beat your teleporting any
day!” Torrvic had announced, slamming
his empty tankard on the table.
“How drunk are you?” Dorro replied,
“Teleportation is instantaneous.
There’s no way you can beat me!” He
leaned back and crossed his arms.
“Peregrine falcons aren’t even the fastest bird,
Torrvic,” Rina piped up. “It’s actually swifts.
And you call yourself ‘the God of Beasts’.”
Torrvic ignored her, his sights set on Dorro.
“Wanna bet? Loser takes the other’s
watch for the next month.”
“You’re on, Bird Brain!” Dorro said, leaping
up from the table and shaking his hand
enthusiastically “Where are we doing this?”
A triumphant grin spread across Torrvic’s face.
“The Ironwood.” Dorro’s confidence
faded just a bit. The trees were so thick
that he wouldn’t be able to teleport as
far… but of course, a bet was a bet.
Thankfully, Xion and Pera were nowhere to be
found, and Rina was as drunk as they were and
agreed to referee. Caitlyn and Dorro managed
to use their powers together to get them to just
outside the Ironwood, and Sirena and Josra
were just seconds too slow to stop them.
“First one to Turtle’s Bay wins?” Dorro
suggested, and Torrvic rubbed his
hands together and nodded. Dorro
tossed Rina and Caitlyn a battery with a
couple teleportation charges inside.
“How did you get this out of Xion’s room?”
Caitlyn asked curiously, her eyes wide.
14
GFFanzine2.05.indd 14-15
Dorro’s ears went red but he winked at her.
“They were… a bit busy.” Torrvic
groaned and covered his eyes.
“See you all on the flip side,” Dorro announced,
turning towards the edge of the woods and
settling into a sprinter’s starting position.
Torrvic joined him, a very determined
expression on his face. Oinkers, too, trotted up
to starting line and told Torrvic very firmly,
I’m gonna beat both of your asses in this race.
“Okay, on ‘go’,” Rina said, pulling out her
bow and aiming it towards the sky. Caitlin
giggled. “3, 2, 1, go!” A red streak shot up
into the air and they were off. Torrvic and
Oinkers leapt into the air, transforming mid-
jump, and climbed above the trees. They had
a straighter shot to Turtle’s Bay than Dorro,
who teleported as far as he could see into a
tree and then had to glance around again
for his next point. He was thankful it was
impossible for him to get lost, because after a
few minutes the forest seemed to look all the
same. He was pretty confident that he was
ahead, but after few minutes more passed and
he realized the flaw to their plan: the wild elves.
More specifically, Aramil.
When the God of Speed is trying to
catch the God of Travel, who wins?
It really depends on how drunk the God of
Travel is. In this case, it was far too drunk.
When he saw the flare arrows at first, he
easily outpaced them, shouting a big “fuck
you!” over his shoulder as he did. So naturally,
he missed the fact that Aramil was not with
them, and turned around to a large piece
of cloth being thrown over his head.
“Can’t teleport if you can’t see, huh?”
Aramil said in the tone of voice of someone
with their arms firmly crossed. “What the
hell are you doing in the Ironwood?”
“Funny story, actually,” Dorro started,
but at that point he could hear the
other wild elves drawing nearer.
“I told you I couldn’t protect you if you
came back.” There was a hint of regret in
his voice. Dorro struggled against his bonds
that he had barely felt being put on him.
“I don’t need your protection,” Dorro shot
back as soft hands picked him up roughly
and threw him over an unfamiliar shoulder.
“I hope you don’t,” Aramil replied under his
breath. He turned around and asked the other
group of wild elves that had just caught up with
them, “Zinks. Did you catch the two girls?”
“Just the one,” they replied, gesturing to a
young human who they had strapped to a
long stretcher of wood, a sleep arrow sticking
out of her arm, “the other… got away. That
girl’s just too lucky.” Aramil hid his relief.
He was bound to protect the Ironwood, but
Rina wasn’t- not really, not anymore. Rina
could get her friends out… he hoped.
“What are we doing with them? We
don’t take prisoners, Aramil. You
know that,” Zinks reminded him.
“Well, we can’t kill them because they need
to stop Vistrix, but obviously they haven’t
learned their lesson from last time. We’ll
take them to the council and let them
decide,” Aramil replied firmly, hoping none
of them would question him. If he could
give Dorro and Caitlyn enough time, the
rest of their party would come to rescue
them. He just had to stall for long enough.
The wild elves had managed to pull Caitlyn
away in the middle of the two girls trying to
teleport. Rina was still trying to figure out why
only she had teleported, and beyond that, why
she had still wound up in the right place. She
had only seen Turtle Bay in the dreams she
had had of the comet, but thankfully that had
been enough to get here there in one piece.
Thankfully as well, no one was on the
docks to see her teeter on the edge and
fall directly into the ocean. She dragged
herself out and sprinted through the
town to the edge of the Ironwood.
“If Torrvic or Oinkers make it through, they’ll
be here in under two hours,” she muttered
to herself, notching an arrow and sitting on
a fence post of a nearby farm. “Dorro- well
who knows how long it will take him. I just
have to wait until one of them gets here
and then we can get Caitlyn together.”
One and half hours later, Oinkers landed
on her knee, and cocked her pink head.
“Caitlyn was taken by the wild elves.
Where’s Torrvic?” Rina asked urgently.
Oinkers gave her an eyeroll as an answer
and took to the sky again. She returned
twenty minutes later with Torrvic, who had
stubbornly stayed a peregrine falcon.
“I won!” Torrvic wheezed, collapsing to
the ground in dwarven form. Oinkers
huffed at him. “Where’s… Caitlyn?”
“She got taken by the wild elves. Dorro…
Dorro might have been taken too.” Rina
stammered. Torrvic let out a long string of
expletives in dwarvish and struggled to his feet.
“This is my fault. I grew up in the Ironwood, I
should have known that they would do this.”
“This isn’t your fault, we’ve trespassed before,
remember?” Torrvic patted her back awkwardly,
then suddenly stopped, his hand hovering in the
air. “Wait- why did they go after you two? You
weren’t even in the Ironwood.” Rina hopped
off the fence, scuffing the ground with her feet.
“They probably think I’ve been kidnapped
or something? Or that I ran away. I don’t
know how much they would believe Aramil,
not after he helped you guys last time.”
“That’s still not your fault, you know. Do
you think Aramil will be able to help us?”
“Physically able? Yes. But he’s sworn to protect
the forest. He can’t put other bonds above
that. He won’t- not again, anyway. They would
probably kick him out.” Rina wrote a quick
note and tagged it to the fence for Dorro to see,
just in case he hadn’t been captured. Before
15
8/30/17 9:34 AM
 she was even done Torrvic started striding
towards the woods. “Do you have a plan?”
“Turn into a bear and knock
some heads together.”
“That’s not a plan. They’ll shoot you, they’re
very good at that. Not as good as me, but still-”
“Well don’t let them shoot me then! You
use your luck magic to keep most of the
arrows of of me, and release Dorro so he
can get us all the fuck out of there.”
“We need to get Torrvic and Oinkers.”
“I’ll get them.” Rina leaned out of the door
and gave a quick whistle. On the forest floor,
the two bears who had managed to get through
the barrage of arrows more or less unscathed
thanks to Rina, transformed into hummingbirds
that zoomed up to Rina and landed on Dorro’s
shoulders. Dorro reached for Rina, but at the
same time, Aramil ran into the room. His eyes
locked with hers, a little sadly. Wordlessly, he
nocked an arrow, aimed it at her, and nodded.

“This is a horrible plan.” “Loro,” Rina whispered to her quiver.

“That’s the only kind of plan I make,” Torrvic
grinned. “Now c’mon, lass, get on my back
and let’s get a move on.” Torrvic and Oinkers
turned into horses and Rina swung up onto
his back. Then they galloped straight into
the shadow of the towering teal? Trees.
Dorro was just about done with
Sebouh’s smugness.
Without breaking eye contact, she nocked
the arrow and pulled the bowstring
back in a fluid, practiced motion.
“I’m sorry,” she said as she aimed the
arrow for him. He smiled gently at her.
“It’s alright. Get out of here as fast as you can.
And maybe keep your friends from trespassing
next time, instead of encouraging them?”

“We warned you about coming back,” he said “I will.” Rina let the arrow fly. It grazed
for the hundredth time, still pacing at the front the side of his neck, and Aramil let himself
succumb to the plant toxin it had been Rina
of them “Just wait ‘till the counsel gets done
with you. Taking Rina, trespassing twice…” dipped in and fell heavily to the ground. Goblin
Dorro’s eyes were still covered with some sort She scooped up Caitlyn, and Dorro began
of fabric. Caitlyn was tied tightly to the wall to teleport them out of the forest.
just out of reach of him, still unconscious.
It was much harder for Dorro to undo his
own chains since he couldn’t tell if Sebouh
could see him do it, but soon they loosened
and Dorro slid to the ground, setting them
behind his back. That was all he could do, for
now. If he tried to go for his blindfold Sebouh
would stop him. What he needed was-
A quick succession of arrows whistled into
the air somewhere outside and exploded.
Soon he could hear shouting in elvish and…
the roar of two very, very angry bears.
Thankfully, Sebouh ran out of the cell and
Dorro quickly pulled off his blindfold and
ran over to Caitlyn to undo her bonds.
She stirred a little bit as he touched her.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Dorro murmured as he
rolled her on her side to undo her handcuffs.
“I’ll get you out of here, don’t worry.” At
that moment, Rina ran into the room.
“Oh my gods, is she alright?”
“Just out cold, she’ll be fine. Help me lift
her.” Rina scooped Caitlyn into her arms.

16 17

GFFanzine2.05.indd 16-17 8/30/17 9:34 AM

 The Way Back Home
Nicole
T urtlefest. Her favourite time of year.
Most people’s favourite time of year,
actually. While the town of Turtle Bay
had come to embrace their new identity and the
source of their fame all year round, this was the
time when it was truly celebrated. For Adran,
Turtlefest meant so much more. It was the
time of year that she felt most like herself, most
connected to who she had been. Celebrating the
turtles, protecting them, helping them in their
first moments, it grounded her. Sure, throughout
the year she had opportunities to help various
animals or assist in nurturing a garden, but it
was never the same connection with nature
that she used to have. Adran tried not to think
about the time when she lived in the Ironwood,
the connection she had with everything
there, and the magic that used to flow all
around her. That was then and it was done.
The Godswar tore a hole in her life and the
forest wasn’t the same once magic was gone. It
looked the same, and everyone tried to carry
on as they had been, but there was always
something missing. Adran felt the absence of
magic around her every moment of every day
and living in the forest that she loved eventually
became too difficult once that connection was
severed. One day, she could no longer bear the
hollow feeling of the forest and she decided to
leave. When she had come to Turtle Bay after
the Godswar, it was supposed to be a short stop.
From there she was going to go somewhere else,
anywhere else, far from the Ironwood. But when
she got there, some of the locals told Adran
what was happening with the turtles, how they
had been helping them on the beach for the
past couple of years. Adran had stayed to help,
not having another plan for what to do. And
then she kept staying. Maybe it was because
she had stopped, and it was a hard journey
to restart. Maybe it was because she couldn’t
truly leave the Ironwood behind. Whatever the
reason, Adran had stayed. And she was happy
in that little town that became Turtle Bay.
The festival was always as much work as it
was a celebration for those who lived in Turtle
Bay. Once it expanded to become something
that people from other towns and kingdoms
18
GFFanzine2.05.indd 18-19
were interested in, the locals shifted their focus
from celebrating to running the celebration for
the visitors. Everyone always had a chance to
enjoy some part of it, whether that was their
favourite event or a contest they wanted to enter
themselves. The town always worked together
to ensure that everyone had a chance to have
fun. Adran herself was helping at a couple of
events, and had offered to take over the stalls or
shops of some of the locals for several hours,
giving them the chance to enjoy the celebration.
That morning she was going to be helping at
the Bakery stall, selling to the morning crowd
of festival goers. The time passed quickly as it
was a busy morning with lots of people milling
about, getting a start on the day’s festivities.
Many of the locals walking around were
discussing Shelly’s pick for this year’s bumper
crop. Adran noticed that more people than
usual seemed annoyed by her pick. As a
couple of the nearby farmers passed, she
caught parts of their conversations:
“Again! Its three years in a row that
Tortoise has chosen turnips!”
“And last year the turnips weren’t even
that good! Small, and watery!”
“I bet Samuel has been sneaking in and
training Shelly to walk towards turnips.”
Adran shook her head and chuckled as the
conversation moved out of earshot. No matter
what Shelly picked, some were always happier
than others. She could remember, back when
this tradition first began, the Shelly at the time
had a particular affinity for whatever vegetable
was placed to her right. Many locals would
spend a great deal of time, and a fair bit of
coin, to convince those setting up the event
to place their crop in that prime location. It
was a silly tradition, but one that was loved by
locals and visitors alike. People needed those
lighthearted moments. That’s what Turtlefest
was all about, really; celebrating the moments
of light in the darkness. Such as a sudden
influx of turtles in the area, displaced by the
breaking of the world and the great World
Storm. Adran’s morning passed quickly as she
helped out at several stalls. After so many years,
she didn’t feel the need to participate in many
of the actual Turtlefest activities anymore,
and primarily spent the festival helping out
around town so others could enjoy themselves.
She heard the crowd gathering in the centre of
town for the Best Turtle contest, and laughed
to herself. As she wove through the crowd she
smiled once more at friends and neighbours,
but did not stop to talk to any of them. She
preferred to enjoy these festivities in her own
company, or as much as one could do so
while in the middle of a crowd of this size.
Suddenly the crowd was alive with whispers
about a certain turtle. Everyone around her
was talking about how exceptional Oliver
was, and how he deserved to win. She paused
as she moved through the crowd, and asked
several people what made this turtle so special.
“He fights bandits, protects the
area!” One person told her.
Another onlooker shared “I’ve heard
he fights off vermin that come into
the fields to eat the crops”
The stories she received from each onlooker
were outlandish and clearly exaggerated. But
one thing was clear: Oliver was the crowd
favourite in this competition, even for people
who weren’t sure why they felt this way. There
was a cry of outrage and disappointment
when Oliver was named second, but everyone
was used to Frederick winning these sorts
of town activities, and the grumbling crowd
quickly dispersed to other pursuits.
Much of the crowd moved towards the beaches,
and Adran moved with them. This was the
best part of Turtlefest. It was what had started
the festival, and the heart of what had drawn
people to the town for decades. More than that,
it was Adran’s favourite part. Making her way
down to the beach she could feel the breeze
off the water and see the first of the tiny turtles
heading out to the ocean. As she approached,
Adran could see a bird circling lower overtop
of some of these early turtles. She moved faster,
intercepting the bird before it could reach them
and shooing it away with a wave of her arms.
She stood over these turtles until they reached
the ocean before turning back to find more
that were emerging. Adran, like many other
festival-goers and locals, spent a few hours on
the beach shepherding turtles to the relative
safety of the water. At one point a strange
group caught her eye, an odd mix of people
that included a halfling, a dwarf, a well dressed
elf, and several humans of varying size and age.
She wasn’t sure what drew her eye to them, but
there was a pull in the back of her mind that
caused her to look at them. Just as she did, the
halfling seemed to disappear and then reappear
further down the beach, scaring away a hawk
that was swooping down towards some turtles.
Adran stood shocked for a moment, trying to
decide if her eyes had deceived her. Quickly
realizing what she was doing, Adran looked
away from the halfling and glanced at his party.
None of them seemed to have noticed anything,
but she knew that there was no way he could
have run that distance in the time he had. She
spent a little longer helping turtles emerge
and get to the water, all the time keeping an
eye on the strange group with the halfling.
When the last of the turtles seemed to have
made their way to the ocean, Adran noticed the
group heading back into town and followed a
short distance behind them, keeping an eye on
the halfling in particular. Adran grimaced as she
realized they were heading to the Shellback Inn,
undoubtedly intending to attend the singing
competition. Of all the activities that happened
during Turtlefest, the singing competition
was the one that Adran had learned early on
to avoid. As a rule, it was terrible. But even
though she didn’t quite understand why, she
felt she needed to keep an eye on this strange
halfling and his friends, so she unhappily
followed them into the Inn. As she entered
she saw the elf talking to the Innkeeper, and
was surprised to see the group being led to
a balcony, where they sat down to watch the
show. Adran found a seat on the opposite side
of the room, over by the door, where she could
inconspicuously keep a watchful eye on them.
And then she waited. The songs were even
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 more terrible than she remembered. Adran
wasn’t sure if that was because the memories
had faded over time, or if the people in the
competition had simply gotten that much
worse at what they were attempting to do.
She sat up with interest when she saw the
halfling’s dwarven companion approach the
stage at what she hoped was close to the end
of the night. However, she soon realized from
his walk that this dwarf was incredibly drunk
and was luckily able to clap her hands over
her ears right before he loudly roared into
the microphone before moving off stage. The
competition crawled on and just as Adran
thought, hopefully, that it might be ending,
she noticed the halfling moving determinedly
towards the stage. Suddenly much more
awake, Adran was careful not to let her interest
show and instead kept her body relaxed and
apparently disengaged. She couldn’t help
but laugh when she heard the halfling shout
to the crowd that they were terrible. Frankly,
she quite agreed. Even more astonishing than
someone being open about that, was what
the halfling started to sing. The first bit only
stood out by fact that he could carry a tune
and didn’t sound like he had gotten drunk
two days ago and never stopped, as many
of the other performers had. As she listened
to his words, she was surprised to hear that
he was talking about something that he had
stolen. A glance at his companions told her
that this was not just a song, but that he
was telling the truth about these events.
Suddenly the elf from his party was up on the
stage with him, clearly intending to stop him
from saying any more. But as she reached for
him, the halfling- Dorro, as he had introduced
himself- vanished. And then appeared on the
other side of her. It looked much the same as
it had on the beach, but this time Adran was
watching for it and she was even more sure
of what she saw. As he did it, Adran realized
that what she had sensed on the beach that
first drew her attention to the group was also
pushing at her mind now. It was the most
subtle brush of magic, just like she used to
be able to feel all around her. Lost in this
thought, she almost missed Dorro pointing
to his companions and announcing that they
all had magic. The crowd, completely drunk
at this point, clapped and laughed along, but
the looks on the faces of Dorro’s companions
20
GFFanzine2.05.indd 20-21
confirmed what she felt; this was not a trick. herself back up. But maybe, just maybe it was faces of his companions hovered before her.
The next moments passed in a rush for Adran, the forest calling out to her, beckoning her She knew that when she got home, someone
she barely noticed the rest of his words, but back. Adran strapped on her pack and set out would have answers about them. Why now,
a few phrases stuck out, about visiting elves along the road that would lead her back to the after all this time, was the magic back? What
and discovering Godhood. She almost missed Ironwood. The road that would take her home. did that mean and what would it do to the
seeing him teleport to several places in the way the world had become? Shaking off these
crowd before returning to his seat. And she sat As she left her house, she glanced up at the thoughts, Adran refocused on the looming
in stunned silence as the crowd chanted and sky. Though the world was illuminated by the forest in the distance. The tall, strong trees
called out his name: “Dorro! Dorro! Dorro!” glow of the moon, but light also shone from that would intimidate many were welcoming
the sickly comet above. The hair on the back to her. She could feel herself relax as she got
Adran snapped out of it enough to follow of Adran’s neck stood up whenever she looked closer, their beautiful detail coming into focus
when Dorro’s companions rushed him out at that comet. It was unnerving, unnatural. before her. She turned to look back at Turtle
the door of the Inn, looking very concerned. But even its dark glow couldn’t reach her Bay, the quiet town bathed in moonlight while
She tried to reach them, to talk to them. She tonight as she quietly walked to the outskirts the occupants slept. Before slipping quietly
needed to talk to them, couldn’t let go of this of town and started off along the cliff. “Dorro between the trees, she smiled at the town,
connection to magic that she had missed for so Knott” she thought to herself. His face, and the and whispered “Thank you, Dorro Knott”.
long. But they were in a hurry and clearly were
trying to get away from all of the witnesses to
Dorro’s song. Adran tried to stay with them,
but those ushering the group away were much
faster and more efficient. The crowds parted
for them, but reformed in time for Adran to
get stuck behind them. As she followed, she
realized that they were heading to the docks
and that there would be no way she would be
able to follow them onto a ship. When they
got to the ships, the group was herded onto
one of the royal ships of the Godking’s fleet.
Stopping where she stood, Adran admitted to
herself that they were unreachable, that she
was not going to be able to talk to them and
that Dorro and his group were not going to
be able to give her the answers she needed.
But maybe there were people who could.
As she walked home, the night’s events flooded
through Adran’s mind. Magic, actual magic.
It was too much to hope for, yet she felt it.
When that halfling had moved, it wasn’t a
trick. It wasn’t some illusion. She had felt the
movement, like something you see out of the
corner of your eye. As soon as you look, it’s
gone. She didn’t know how it could be possible
and yet she knew with absolute certainty
that it was real. Adran walked faster, almost
running to get to her house. She started moving
around the small space, collecting what she
needed for a journey. She couldn’t stop to
think, because if she did then the reality of
all these years may creep back in, reminding
her of why she had stopped hoping, stopped
wishing, after the Godswar. Something was
calling to her now.That faint whisper in the
back of her mind. Adran didn’t know if she
was imagining it now that she had opened
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8/30/17 9:34 AM
 Oinker’s Tale
Izzy
W e met on the rocking floating
thing, and I knew immediately. We
were the same. He was mine. He
treated me kindly, fed me, taught me tricks, put
bows on me to make me look pretty, even made
me a metal thing to wear so I wouldn’t get hurt.
He smells sometimes, and can get loud, and
he has these weird plants in his beard and his
friends sometimes call me “pet”, but he seems
to like them and I trust him. (I especially like
the new elf girl. She can stay, if she watches
herself.) The humans are...well they don’t
talk to me much. But two of them are good
together. The cooler one tinkers with the
glowing rocks and the hot one keeps all of us
warm. The small one is good, he talks to me
and keeps an eye on Torrvic when he isn’t
doing well. Sometimes he gets into moods and
doesn’t sleep or eat for days, no matter how
much I want him too. But then the small one
helps him. Sometimes. Other times, he can
be stubborn. But he is good. And he is mine.
I would do anything for him.
22
GFFanzine2.05.indd 22-23
Contibutors
Writers
Vida is 21, and lives in Seattle, Washington.
He describes himself as a story-teller first and
foremost, and are currently working on a novel,
as well as an epic fanfiction crossover between
a different dnd show and the Silmarillion. Were
the world a better place, they would either
be a halfling bard or a pokemon trainer, but
given that neither of those are real options
he is working on becoming a carpenter.
STATS: 
STR: 10 | DEX: 10 | CON: 15
INT: 13 | WIS: 11 | CHA: 12
Whitney can be found often reading, writing,
and also procrastinating doing either of those.
She makes friends easily, so long as they can
understand she’s always sarcastic and hardly
ever serious. From fencing training, she’s
adept with a rapier, but she’ll more than likely
fall when trying to attack. If she gets serious,
watch out. When she cares about something,
she will defend it to the death. She’s currently
in the second level of bard training (Grad
school for library science).
STATS:  spiders. And if you hadn’t figured it
STR: 14 | DEX: 6 | CON: 10
INT: 18 | WIS: 9 | CHA: 15
Shiloh is fond of stabbing things. You, their
enemies, your feelings. Despite this, they’re
quite amiable and fast to make friends. They
talk too much and get flustered easily, but can
be depended on in a pinch. Between acting,
storytelling and striking with style and grace,
dnd is perfect for them.
STATS:
STR: 6 | DEX: 17 | CON: 9
INT: 13 | WIS: 11 | CHA: 15
Nicole is a social worker who recently finished
school and is now masquerading as a real adult.
This deception has yet to be discovered and
she is hoping to continue it indefinitely. She
spends most of her free time playing D&D,
watching too much tv, and cuddling her cat. 
STATS: 
STR: 10 | DEX: 11 | CON: 13
INT: 15 | WIS: 16 | CHA:14
Zambo Zombii is also know by “Andrea J.
[REDACTED” she is 19 years old, lives in St.
Louis Missouri, and is totally cool with her
corpse’s organ’s being given to people who need
them. She relates to Mordukai the most because
he is also gay and works in the death industry.
STATS:
STR: 11 | CON: 8 | DEX: 10
INT: 15 | WIS: 6 | CHA: 13
Kinsey is a pre-vet student from Virginia.
She will drop everything if you ask
about her pets, her nephews, or jumping
out yet, she’s a huge freaking geek
STATS: 
STR: 12 | DEX: 13 | INT: 14
WIS: ∞ | CHA: 9 | CON:16,
(-2 modifier if it has to do
with things stuck in drains)
Izzy is a huge nerd with weird skills. She
loves her friends, telling stories, superheroes,
acting, animals, baking, stupid jokes, and
dressing up in costumes. She often needs be
discouraged from some of her worse impulses,
and tends to overshare a lot.
STATS:
STR: 11 | DEX: 15 | INT: 14
WIS: 13 | CHA: 12 | WIS: 8
23
8/30/17 9:34 AM
 Contibutors
Artists
Sierra Sharp, or more commonly known as Maayan is forever the mom friend, and can
Lizard, is a 16 year old artist with a passion usually be found yelling at her friends to eat,
for comics and lizards. Most are unsure of sleep and stop making bad content on discord.
her true existence, theorizing that she might Since discovering d&d in 2016 it has become
be an AI designed to solely create art and her life, and she is now a baby DM. Her goal
simulate the speech of a teenage girl. Despite in life is to have six dogs, ten dice sets, and
the confusion around her existence though, she at least one baby dragon.
continues to draw too much and sleep too little.
STATS: 
STATS:  STR: 6 | DEX: -2 | INT: 15
STR: 8 | DEX: 16 (extra lizard Godling Pattern 2
WIS: 11 | CHA: 14 | CON: 10
speed) Maayan Priel
CON: 10 | INT: 9 |
WIS: 10 | CHA: 3 VJ is a part time professional graphic designer
and a full time yarn dragon. Long time pen
and paper player, VJ enjoys ‘role’ play over
Goblin has no discernible personality ‘roll’ play—although throughly enjoys putting
traits other than having horrible hygiene. tiny holes into baddies that needed un-aliveing.
She lurks, too. VJ saved maayan’s butt and now she owns her
everythin She was really excited to be a part
STATS:  of a diverse community of gaymers and able to
STR: 9 | DEX: 15 | CON: 8 help with this project; adding to her community.
INT: 14 | WIS: 11 | CHA: -27
STATS: 
STR: 10 | DEX: 14 | INT: 16
Marin can typically be found resting WIS: 16 | CHA: 11 | CON: 9
(photosynthesizing?) in the nearest sunbeam.
Interests include worldbuilding, cute monster
girls, progressive social commentary, and
anything that makes a satisfying clattering
sound, so she and D&D were probably
always bound to find each other. Her dream
pet would be a shapeshifter with a cat
form and a python form.
STATS:
STR: 13 | DEX: 15 | INT: 14
WIS: 16 | CHA: 9 | CON: 11

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