Changing Tides: Chapter 1 Public Release (Patreon)

Hey there all!

As mentioned last month, here is the first chapter of my Dungeons and Dragons fanfiction "Changing Tides".

There will be no set release schedule for this, as it depends on when we get together to play and what time I have to write it between my current stories.

Future chapters will follow the usual format of being released early for Baron tiers members, and then available to Knight tier a month later.

Happy reading, and I hope you enjoy

Camknight

"The Tide Brings in All"

The sun breaks over the horizon, casting the ocean in a warm glow. As the light creeps further, rising higher and illuminating the streets of the great coastal city below, the toll of a dock bell signals the startanother day of hustle and bustle on the piers and ports of Minisko.

The calls of sailors shouting to one another fills the air as they guide ships into port and begin unloading the wares they have brought with them.

One figure is seen sitting placidly at the end of one of the docks, his calm at odds with the rest of the people that are rushing around in an effort to get their work done.

The float resting on the water a short distance in front of him twitches…and the figure's ear twitches in turn.

Another twitch, and the rod in his hands is jerked as a bite takes upon his hook. Reacting quickly, the figure rises and begins to fight the retreating fish, slowly reeling in his catch with practiced motions.

“Healer! We need a healer!” 

The shout breaks the concentration of the figure, a momentary lapse causing the line to get just a little too taut.

*Snap*

The rod jerks free, the line snapped clean off at the tip.

“...this better be important.” The figure sighs with a deep growl, before collapsing his rod. Slinging his bag across his shoulder, he wanders back down the dock towards the commotion.

It does not take long to see the source. A mother is desperately attempting to console the young girl in her arms, who is valiantly trying to keep her tears at bay. The source is obvious, as she clutches her bare foot in an attempt to alleviate the pain caused by the fishing hook currently piercing the webbing between her toes 

The figure pauses, briefly observing the scene from outside the group that had gathered around them. Many were attempting to assist, however ineffectually.

He reaches into the pocket of his cloak, retrieving a larger than usual, slightly worn gold coin. He inspects it briefly with a fond smile, before flicking it into the air with a practiced flourish.

Snatching it from the air and placing it on his palm, he glances at the result.

Heads.

“Luck is smiling upon her, it would seem.”

Pocketing the coin once more, the individual pushes his way to the front of the crowd.

“Stand aside please. Allow me to see the patient, if you would.”

Once he reaches the woman, she looks up and a look of relief blooms upon her face.

“Oh, thank the Gods. Malik, please, you have to help her!”

“Do not worry, I will do so.” 

Malik knelt down, smiling slightly at the young girl in the woman's lap. As the girl flinches slightly, he stops smiling, realizing his larger than average teeth might be unsettling her slightly.

“Now, be a brave girl and show me that foot, would you?”

The girl looks ready to refuse, but the mother just leans down and whispers in her ear, getting her to reluctantly stretch her foot towards him.

The hook has, thankfully, not gone too deep. The barb makes extraction more difficult, but it’s certainly something that Malik is up to.

“Thankfully, not one of mine…”

Taking out some tools from a rolled up leather satchel, he works swiftly to remove the offending item with as little pain caused as possible.

Once free, a softly muttered word and a flash of light swiftly closes the wound and ceases the bleeding.

“There. Perhaps you will avoid walking the docks bare-footed in future, yes?” Malik rumbles, though with very little real heat.

The mother nods, and thanks him profusely. Malik simply waves her off, standing once more and preparing to move on.

Elsewhere in the sprawling streets of the Drowned Steps, the quayside market is already active despite the early hour.

In an alcove by one of the shabby shop fronts, stands a figure swathed in robes. A thin layer of moss growing upon their shoulders. Their face is obscured by a simple, wooden mask. Nothing but their eyes are visible, barely distinguishable in the shaded area.

In front of them, a nervous merchant offers  a small pouch of coin. 

“Here. As promised. There's even a little extra, for your, er, troubles!”

The figure accepts the pouch, opening it and checking the contents with a practiced eye. With a grunt, they retrieve three silver from the pouch, returning them to the merchant even as they begin to back off.

“No, I couldn't possibly…” he starts, but the masked figure pushes the coin into his hands before shoving  past.

A ruffled-looking Kenku weaves their way through the crowd. The individual glances around themselves nervously, pausing briefly at the sight of the masked figure before changing direction and barely avoiding crashing into a slowly moving individual carrying numerous trays of finely crafted glassware.

A barely muttered apology and the Kenku is off again, winding through the crowd. 

The hunched individual sighs, taking a moment to rebalance the crates  in their arms and upon the back of their shell, before also continuing through the throng of people.

Neither individual notices the large figure leaning against the wall of a higher floor above them, watching the Kenku move off with interest. Pushing off from the wall, the figure attempts to follow, but their large size slows them down against the tide of people. Soon, the Kenku is gone, lost in the crowd. 

With a huff, the large figure shoves his green tinged hands into his pockets, before slouching off in the direction of the dock.

At the dock itself, another bell rings out and announces the arrival of a new ship coming into port.

With a few minutes of practiced movements, the ship is moored and tied, the plank lowered to allow the disembarkment of its passengers.

Among them, one figure stands out due to the unique hue of their skin and hair. Blues of various shades make up their complexion, forming wave-like patterns similar to the lapping waters below. This contrasts sharply with his hair and beard, which are a bright, warm orange more like the sunrise than the water.

Most of his skin is obscured by heavy armour, glinting in the morning light, a large shield strapped upon his back.

The figure pauses and takes a breath, before glancing off to the side of the dock. Stepping off  the dock and towards the shoreline, he kneels beside the edge of the water.

Cupping a handful of the water in  his webbed hands, he closes his eyes and focuses briefly, before letting the water run through his hands and back into the sea.

His peaceful expression is broken by a panicked shout from further down the shoreline.

“Is he dead?!”

“Healer! Where is Malik?!”

“Quick, get a Tidewarden!”

Glancing over with a frown, he saw several people pointing and shouting at a figure within the water, slowly floating towards the shore with the tide.

Jogging over quickly reveals a clearer view of the figure. Face down, and unmoving. Smaller than the majority of the crowd. A child? Or a smaller race perhaps…

As he wades into the water towards them, he glances to the side  and realises that he isn't the only one to have made a move into the water.

A tall, dark-furred figure with a larger mane of black hair, streaked with white patches, had also strode out into the tide.

A brief look  at one another, and a nod of understanding, is all it takes. Working together, the pair pull the figure towards the shore and onto dry land. 

Flipping them over, the pair look down at the sodden visage of a gnome. Eyes wide and unseeing, with no movement in their chest.

“...I don't know about you. But I think that's beyond my ability to heal.” Malik muttered solemnly.