DW3 CH1 (Patreon)

Chapter One

Stern read over the letter he’d just finished writing.

Dad,

I hope you and the rest of the family are well. I figured I should update you on what’s happened since the last letter asking for your help. Cyra, Trish, Cammie, and I just made it to Mistwood. It took a couple of weeks through the woods to get here from Whitewater. We found a lot of mistweavers, more than I thought there should be, but no swarms or bosses, luckily. The dark willow shoots are getting heavy in the area, too. We had to fight off a couple of the saplings. Cammie shone brightly for us during those skirmishes, with her flammable traps.

We got into town late last night, found a room, and passed out. We’ll be taking today and possibly tomorrow off to get our gear in order for our run, drop off our quests, and do other odds and ends. Well, that, and we need to find another one or two to fill the crew out again. As you probably figured out, we lost Vulk in Whitewater. He settled down with a woman named Emma Pinage, the daughter of Ruddy Pinage, owner of the Deep Mug. They said you drank there once, and one of my mothers told them about pretzels. The owner named a dark ale after your group, and he loves to tell people how you all stopped in once.

I got ahead of myself, let me back up some. When you helped get Vulk and Cammie’s mother, Urika, from the dungeon in Winterspring, it set the stage for a big shift in their lives. Vulk no longer felt guilty, so he set aside running and married Emma. Urika is staying with them while she gets her feet under her again, and Cammie decided to keep running with us.

As for why she did, she seems to be interested in joining Cyra, Trish, and I in our relationship. It’s not a sure thing, but with my empathy, it feels like it. She’s been doing small things that give us all that idea, so it’s not just my imagination. It’s going to take a complicated relationship to a place you know all too well. Go ahead and laugh, show it around to my mothers.

I was writing to you for a specific reason, though. We’d talked about meeting in the copper ranks, but I wanted to ask you to move it down to nickel. We’re in Mistwood and will be here for a bit. Then, we’ll move onto Goldwood before finally getting to Blackwood. I’d like to meet you in Blackwood. I’ve been thinking hard over the last few weeks, and I want to ask them to marry me, and I want you there for the wedding. The entire family (even my obnoxious siblings), along with Marysue and Gerald.

Write back and let me know. I’d like to know how your dungeon run went and if the new town is secure. I want to thank you again for supporting me like you did in my attempt to show myself as my own man. That might all break when we meet, but that’s fine. I’ve found love and acceptance, and I no longer need to try proving things to anyone other than my family, and soon-to-be-wives.

Your loving son, always,

Alistern Masterson

Stern nodded, then folded the letter up. This will work out. I hope we know where Cammie stands with us by then, but if we don’t, that’s fine, too, Stern thought.

“Stern, you good to get the gear cleaned?” Cyra asked, coming into the room.

“Yeah. Did you all get the things you wanted?” Stern asked as he put his letter away.

“We did,” Cyra smiled. She brushed one of her long, floppy bunny ears out of her face. “What were you doing?”

“Letting Dad know how much Cammie and her family appreciated what they did for us and them,” Stern said. “I’ll post it in a day or two.”

“That really was sweet of them,” Cyra whispered as she crossed the room to him, kissing him briefly. “The others are waiting for us.”

Stern helped gather up their gear, carting it out to the living room. “Sorry about that. Let’s get maintenance done.”

“Are we going to scout for more people tonight or tomorrow morning?” Cammie asked. She pulled out her small crossbow first to check it over.

“I’m thinking we should just scout tomorrow,” Trish said, checking her shield.

Stern gave his red-headed lover a loving look as he sat down beside her. “Tomorrow would be best. Oh, that needs to be replaced. You see that crack?”

Trish looked at where he pointed. “Shit... glad that survived until we got here. Mistweavers are bad enough with a shield.”

“Yeah. We might also be shopping tomorrow,” Stern said. He gave Cammie a smile. “Make sure to see if you need anything replaced, too.”

The dwarven woman looked down at her crossbow. “I will. Do you think they’ve settled in?”

“Your brother and Emma?” Cyra asked as she checked over her armor.

“Yes. I worry for them, which is silly.”

“With your mother and her parents to help them, I’m sure they’re fine,” Trish chuckled. “You might be an aunt quicker than you expected to be, though.”

Cammie laughed as she oiled the crossbow. “A year ago, I’d have been shocked. When they married, I figured I’d be an aunt in a year at the most. As I said, it was a silly question.”

“A year or less for them to have a kid,” Stern said. “And no, I don’t think it was silly. You’re in a new place. Your mother is alive again, your brother settled down, and you’re here with us. Everything you knew a few months ago has changed. The real question is whether or not you’re happy?”

Cammie looked up, seeing him inspecting his daggers. Her eyes shifted to Trish, who’d gone on to look over her scale armor. She settled on Cyra last, where the healer was still checking her modified leather armor. “I am. It’s a little odd to me, but I am.”

“I can feel the happiness, but also your uncertainty,” Stern said softly.

Sighing, Cammie set the crossbow down, done with it. She picked up her own armor to inspect it. “I feel like a fifth wheel at times, is all. Once we get others in, that should hopefully stop.”

Stern wasn’t sure about that. He glanced at Trish, who looked doubtful, as well. “We’ll find out soon, then.”

“Trish, I have a few small holes for you to fix,” Cyra said. “I marked them for you.”

Trish looked over to see Cyra setting the chalk aside. “Easy to find and fix, then easy to clean off. I never would’ve thought of it.”

“Thank my parents when you meet them,” Stern said.

“I will, but for more than that,” Trish smiled.

“I’ll thank them, too,” Cammie said, “for what they did for my family.”

“I... uh... I wrote them, letting them know the outcome of that,” Stern told her. “This way, they know exactly the good they did.”

Cammie looked up. “Thank you, Stern. I was going to ask you if I could write them to let them know. If you’ve already done it, then it’s fine.”

“If you want to include your own letter with mine, I can mail it out?”

“Oh, I’ll do it after this, then,” Cammie smiled, meeting his nearly colorless eyes briefly before looking away again. “Thank you.”

Stern felt her emotional tangle, but didn’t try to figure it out— she would approach them if she was interested. He wasn’t chasing anyone. He already had Cyra and Trish.

“After gear, maybe we can let the Walkers’ hall know that we have two openings?” Cyra suggested after a few seconds of silence. “It might make it easier to find others, right?”

“It could. I’d request at least one of them be a caster,” Trish said. “We’ve been lacking in that department. Our one attempt at having a caster was… bad.”

“Michael,” Stern nodded. “I hope he figured out that being a Walker wasn’t for him. The thing is, I almost feel like he would’ve been okay in a hallway dungeon. I think the fact that we were in an open dungeon did that.”

“He was afraid of being swarmed,” Cyra said. “He did okay at the start, even if he was panicking.”

Cammie winced. “I still feel bad for shooting Pawly in that dungeon.” She looked at the sofa where Pawly was napping.

Pawly cracked an eye open; she had nearly the same color eyes as Stern. With a big yawn, she rolled onto her back, exposing her belly to the world.

“Trap,” Stern snorted.

A small meow came from Pawly as she rolled back to her original spot and closed her eyes again.

“You’ll get dinner when we do, fur-face,” Stern said. “We all know you’re cute.”

“I’ve been happy she sleeps with me,” Cammie said. “It made the trip through the Mist Wood nicer for me.”

“She’s a great cuddler,” Cyra smiled. “Aren’t you?”

Pawly purred, snuggling into the sofa.

“Okay, my scale held up fine against the spiders,” Trish exhaled. “Stern, I love the helmet, but it was a nightmare with the webs.” She tapped the bunnicorn-horned helmet. “I was thinking of seeing if we can sell it for a potential upgrade.”

Stern looked at the helmet; there was a history to it for him and Cyra. “No. I’ll send it to my parents, and they’ll pass it on to one of my siblings. We’ll get you a new helmet, though. If none of them want it, I’ll have it set aside for when we finish running.”

“Yes, please,” Cyra said. “It’ll make a good reminder for us.”

“What’s its story?” Cammie asked.

“Oh, it goes back to when it was just Cyra and I on our way back to Blackstone,” Stern said. “It was a wild boss that Pawly found while we were doing a bunnicorn quest. She took it down all by herself, the proud hunter that she is.”

Pawly purred loudly, her eyes open and staring at Stern.

“Uh-oh. Someone wants to hear you sing her praises,” Trish laughed.

Stern set his daggers aside. One of them had a chipped blade and would need serious work or to be replaced. He picked up his pneumatic crossbow to check it. “Luckily for her, I can praise her skills and do my job at the same time.”

“Please,” Cammie chuckled. “I’d like to hear it.”

“Sure. We picked up quests in Brightstone…”