My name is Jules, and you are going to help me start a war.
The human world, the one you likely live in, is peppered with scattered testaments of a world long-forgotten by the victors. Thankfully, human forgetfulness is something that can be turned to our advantage; when the non-humans went into hiding, they erected their own sanctuaries for the huddled Terran masses...and many of the sanctuaries began to spawn their own ecosystem, which attracted outsiders. Of the other-worldly variety.
I am one of those outsiders. I was cut off from my home by an act of selfishness, and I seek nothing more than to return. I have gathered the names of those able to help me. I must find them and secure their alliance.
After this is done, I will start a war across this planet to smoke out those with the keys to my world. I will take those keys. I will return home.
My mind is split.
I don't know what the blacksmith did to me.
I am surrounded by darkness, and I no longer feel whole...
The place she directed me to wasn't necessarily a problem...it's who lives there that's the problem. They say he's powerful, but I've yet to see him in action.
Still, I must be careful in how I proceed. Truth is close to lie, and a lie is as good as a choice between sneaking or attacking. No matter how I choose, I am going to have to be on guard with this one. He's so serious, and his reputation so fierce, I have little wiggle room.
Yet if this is who I have to go through to fix Raven, then I'll go through him.
One way or another.
I'm going to kill that little thief, making more and more trouble for me than normal. If he wasn't being so useful I'd hunt him down right now and put a sword through his spine.
As it is, I have to figure out what to do next. While I have ample energy to begin finding my contacts, there's something about Sting's base...Something useful seems to be here.
I'm just not sure what it is.
Perhaps Ruby can help me. Perhaps she'll be more of a nuisance than a help. Only one way to really find out.
There is a particular reason why I don't like courier missions...in my world, they are almost never what they appear to be.
And who was that at the end? Who has the power to divert me like that?
There is so much happening I do not understand. And somehow, the thief is involved.
Oh good. The thief was willing to trade help for help.
I usually hate such 'missions' -- I'm not a fan of playing the courier game -- yet this was for a greater purpose.
Thankfully, it wasn't too hard to find what I needed. I discovered the location of my quarry in Spain, and teleported myself to the closest location. Now, if only the delivery of Rod's note could go as smoothly as the journey...
Undoubtedly, that could have gone better.
Yet one can fight trouble with more trouble. I may be required to go to the Smithy, but Sting gave no indication he could see inside. Which means I have a chance to save my pride, my reputation, and my needs.
The only ingredient left to this little recipe happened to rely on chance. Chance that a certain thief would be nearby...
Well, I suppose that's how you humans would say it.
Personally, I'm not sure I like cake.
Between the three potential things I found in the Blacksmith's little cave, I am sure one of them was Sting's true target. But I must know more. Thankfully, mother's magic allowed me to trap the information so that only we could even get in and out of the building. Now the next step is to convince Sting his little 'quest' for me was a success, and wait for him to gather what I need.
I should hope, by now, that he has it all together...
Well it seems things are off to a wonderful start, my loves.
Sting seems willing to help, so long as I do a simple task for him. Perhaps the simplicity is a ruse, but the only way to find these things out is to complete the job. Should I happen to stumble upon his ulterior motive...Well, there's not much else I can do but look.
The simplicity itself is bugging me, however. Sting would be able to frighten the Blacksmith off by himself, should he want. Perhaps an investigation is in order...After I scare Jake off, of course. And I believe I have just the piece of insubstantial gossip to do the trick.