Monk's Quest

The monk had spent most of the trip across the ocean moving between his bedding and the side of the boat, moaning mostly in one, throwing up mostly over the other.

He only had the clothes on his back, his holy text, and the plant in the pot. He was tempted to take some of the berries off since they were meant to soothe seasickness, but he knew that he had to give it the best chance to be introduced into the new world.

He succeeded, so that's why we call it Monk's Folly, as we kill the weed constantly.

Danger Synonyms

The message cycled through every language known to the computer, waiting for a sign of recognition from.the unknown viewer.

It showed a flicker of interest for Dertian Pictographs, but that is a usual response to the images of naked Dertians. It showed no other sign of comprehension.

It took over twenty cycles of the atomic timekeeper's secondary unit before it finally found something the viewer seemed to identify. The marker awaited their rapid evacuation, given the warning.

Instead, the viewer moved further towards the danger.

The marker cross-referenced the language with it's main user base.

Human.

Well no wonder then.

Knit One

The wizard on the hill had sent for her usual order of food and her mail, but also for a dozen balls of yarn.

When I drove the mule up to her home, I found her on the porch, knitting. Without looking up, she somehow saw the expression on my face, and heard the question I was trying to form.

"Magic may well be beyond your understanding, but even you can understand that powers aren't unlimited."

That wasn't an answer. She somehow realised I thought that too.

"Plus I find it more relaxing than dealing with people."

That I understood.

Leaping Back

Four years is a long time to be away. At that point you usually end up staying away longer since you've gone so long, another year won't matter, then another, and so on.

But I can't let that happen now. I have to go back. Too much has changed, I need to reconnect with those I left behind, to rediscover what I ran from, if only to be sure I should keep running. It's one thing to assume, I need to know, for sure.

So I'm going back. I have to, I have to return.

Next year, another year's ok.

Say It

"Say it."

Every day, she wanted me to say it.

"Come on, say it!"

Some days she'd be coy and playful about it.

"You gonna say it or not?"

Other days, she was insistent, angry almost.

"If you don't say it..."

She'd threaten, cajole, beg even on a couple of occasions.

"Why won't you say it?"

She just couldn't understand my reluctance.

"We need to see someone, try to get to the bottom of why you won't say it."

Eventually I had to tell her what she needed to hear.

"Why won't you say you love me?"

"Because I don't."

Drink!

He had that air of a deluded self-confidence that new adventurers who had just succeeded at some mission. Certainly the small goblin skull hanging from his belt, dripping blood on the tavern floor, pointed to his victory.

"Barkeep! Your strongest drink to celebrate a glorious victory!"

The barkeep shrugged and after a moment placed a granite mug filled with magically stabilised molten slag.

"... The fuck is this?"

"My strongest drink. Iron Spider Cocktail. Popular with Trolls."

"... Fine, the strongest drink a human can drink."

"Oh, sure, Elven Sunrise, coming up."

Afterwards, the adventurer realised he should have also specified enjoyability.

First World Problem

I watched the little round symbol spin again and again before the error message popped up again.

I turned everything off and on again, tried to log in, watched the symbol, got the error message.

I unplugged the cables from their spots and replaced those I could, swapped ports where I could, then just blew into those I couldn't, logged in, symbol, message.

I tried a few more times, every time I got that symbol and the message.

I got up, turned off the generator, and went to do my farming to eat tonight. Maybe tomorrow society will be back.