“Are you stupid?” Rage asked, floating over to block her way, “You can’t be an adventurer. You’ll die.”
“I’ve already been on several adventures. I already am an adventurer.”
“No, an adventurer is someone who purposely goes out looking for adventures. You accidentally have them. It’s the difference between being a fireman and a bad chef.”
“Look, it’s too late. I already bought the armor, so that’s the end of this discussion,” Ribbon said as she ducked under him. The young elf then started going through the cupboards, grabbing anything that might travel well while the floating salamander continued to scold her.
“You don’t even know anything about adventuring,” Rage said, closing the cupboards left open in her wake, “You are literally going to die.”

“I have played enough games to know everything there is to know about being an adventurer, in just about every conceivable scenario. Medieval fantasy, space, medieval fantasy in space, the whole spectrum. I’ve also got pretty good stats, and from my past adventures I’ve probably got enough experience to be level two, maybe even level three.”
“Ribbon, I’m going to say this because not only do I believe it, but you need to hear it. You are going to die. You don’t have the requisite wisdom score to take the bus by yourself, let alone go on an adventure.”
“Stop nagging me. We need money, and I’m going to make some in the fastest, most exciting way possible, and maybe even help some people in dire peril. It all works out.”
“Fine. Fine, if that’s how you want it to be, fine. I’ve warned you, I’ve told you what is going to happen, and now no one can blame me when it does happen,” Rage said as he floated out of the kitchen, his voice flat and calm despite his small body trembling.

Ribbon had guessed that was going to be Rage’s reaction. The salamander really insisted on treating her like a child, always doubting her abilities and acting like she couldn’t do anything by herself. To hear him tell the story of her life would be for him to recount a long list of failures. Punctuated, of course, with Rage making sure you knew he was against the idea from the start. He was incredibly unsupportive for a familiar, to the point where Ribbon wondered if she had somehow botched the summoning ritual that had called him to her.

Regardless of what Rage thought, and regardless of her past failures, Ribbon knew that this was her opportunity to prove herself to her friends. Even to Cestree. Cestree was perhaps the most naive person Ribbon had ever met, and she was still considered to be the more mature and practical of the two. The worst part was this was almost only because she looked older. It was just one of many slights against her character that Ribbon was fed up with, and it was time to prove that she wasn’t the child they all thought she was.

All she needed was to find a challenge somewhere around her level, well within her comfort zone, take care of it, reap the rewards, and repeat until she had leveled up sufficiently to take on more difficult challenges. It was the formula present in just about every game she had ever played, and despite Rage’s fears, she was confident that she could play it safe and follow the path of the grinding adventurer without any real risks.

Having finished raiding the kitchen, she took a look at the small pile she had left on the counter. Cookies for energy, chocolate for stamina, and plenty of extra cookies as emergency rations. She had read that elves suffered from weaker constitution than the other races, and while that had never been the case in her own personal experience, she knew she had to do what she could to counter any weaknesses she might have. With her “stamina plus” rations ready on the counter, she dashed off to her room to get the remaining items she needed, her armor pinching her around the knees as she climbed the stairs.

Though her room was a bit of a mess, she found what she was looking for almost immediately. An aged and worn hip bag made of dark canvas had been laying atop a pile of clothes left in the corner. She unceremoniously dumped the contents of the bag onto her bed, allowing the books and notepads to scatter everywhere. After one last shake, she stopped to grab the dice bag that had also fallen out. She wasn’t really planning on using any dice on her adventure, but if the opportunity presented itself, she’d much rather have her own dice on hand instead of having to borrow some.

Giving a quick glance around the room, she tossed an extra shirt and a pair of socks into her bag, just in case. Leaving the rest of the bag empty in order to fit her rations, she went over to her closet to retrieve her executioner's sword.

It was an ugly hunk of metal. More like a stretched out butcher’s cleaver than a proper sword, it was scarred with several notches that gave it a rather worn and gruesome appearance. Terribly unbalanced and unwieldy, it didn’t even have a point, instead ending in a wide, squared tip, designed exclusively for ceremonial decapitation. Along its blade, there remained a faded engraving that read “YE NOT GUILTY,” which Ribbon wasn’t entirely sure she understood, and even felt a little uneasy about. But, for all its faults, it would perform the task of chopping through flesh and bone well enough, and above all else, it had been fairly cheap.

With the bag at her hip and her sword held in place upon it with a few cords, Ribbon couldn’t help herself and quickly ran over to admire her attire in front of the bathroom mirror. She hated to admit it, but Rage was right about her armor looking cheap. Even if it had been made out of good materials, its design wasn’t particularly practical, with most of her vitals too lightly armored and with decorative bits and pieces sticking out uncomfortably. Still, she thought as she admired herself in the mirror, she did look something like a proper adventurer. If you squinted slightly, that is.

Though she had the slight physique of a young elf, the armor made her look larger and more intimidating, especially with the gruesome sword at her hip. She struck one pose after another, tossing her short blonde hair about in hopes of it arranging itself dramatically, ignoring the two long locks of hair that refused to settle down with the rest. She angled her long ears up and down as she did, having a bit of trouble consciously controlling them, and ultimately just ended up focusing on her facial expression and letting her ears do their own thing.

After fifteen minutes of practicing a series of a hundred different smiles, looking for the one that said “Yes, I’m here to save the day,” she finally succeeded in detaching herself from the mirror and heading down into the kitchen. To her surprise, sitting next to her selected snacks were two paper-wrapped packages, with a note resting on top. Warily, she approached them, only to find that the message was a brief “Good luck! Have fun!”, and the contents of the packages were two hefty sandwiches, overstuffed with meats and smoked cheeses.

Ribbon looked at the sandwiches sourly. While Rage’s reaction had been unsupportive, he at least understood that there was some danger in what she was setting out to do. He must have rushed immediately over to Cestree to try and get her to convince Ribbon not to go, and her response had been to prepare Ribbon some sandwiches. It was this naivety that got under Ribbon’s skin, that easy brand of casual kindness that was more dismissive than encouraging.

She knew she was being petty, and that she should appreciate that Cestree only had good intentions, but all Ribbon really wanted was for her friends to appreciate that this was neither something insignificant nor something she couldn’t handle. It was an adventure, and she was an adventurer. It was neither a death sentence nor a picnic, and all she really wanted was for them to understand this.

Rewrapping the sandwiches, she placed them both into her bag, and fought with the idea of finding Cestree and either thanking her or admonishing her. Unable to make up her mind, she decided it would simply be best to see her after she had completed her adventure, when she’d have a story to tell that would explain exactly how dangerous it had been and how amazing she really was.

With her gear ready, she stepped out the backdoor and into her backyard, heading towards the forest beyond it. Her plan was really rather straight-forward, with a rough map floating in her head. First, she’d head through the woods until she reached the hunter’s trail that ran through it, which probably wouldn’t take more than a few minutes. She’d then follow that until she reached the larger road that cut through the forest, eventually leading to the Birchwood Tavern at the crossroads. Once there, she’d collect some rumors, maybe make some friends and allies, and eventually hear about some quest that needed to be taken care of. Simple and easy, like the start of any good adventure.

The trees that grew at the edge of the forest were fairly small, but with enough space between them to make traveling through quite easy. But, after only a few hundred feet in, the trees became quite large, with thick brambles growing around them, slowing her progress to a crawl. Gnarled roots obscured by leafy ferns threatened to trip her with each step, claw-like thorns tore at her armor and cut at her exposed skin, and soon Ribbon was desperately wondering how much further she needed to go before she reached the hunter’s trail. She found herself constantly having to double-back to find a new route around impassable undergrowth, and after spending an hour walking around in circles, she finally grew so frustrated that she untied her executioner’s sword and started wielding it like a machete.

Though it was still early in the morning and cool in the shade of the trees, Ribbon was sweating profusely, with parts of her pleather armor sticking to her uncomfortably. As she chopped and hacked with her rapidly dulling blade, she made a mental shopping list for her next adventure, starting with a proper machete and rapidly escalating to bulldozers and napalm.

After her blade glanced off a particularly thick branch and slammed down painfully onto her armored thigh, she let out a shout that was more frustration than pain. Adventurers never had to do this. Even when going to ruins that had been lost for thousands of years, there would still be a clear path leading up to it, with maybe one or two challenges just to break up the tedium of travel. This was nothing like that, a horrible forest of never-ending toil and hardship that made Ribbon wonder what in the world was wrong with her wood elf cousins.

To her credit, there was never even a brief moment where Ribbon considered turning back and just heading home, but upon finally reaching the hunter’s trail she allowed herself an overly-enthusiastic celebration, which would have been quite embarrassing if there had been anyone around to see it. Once finished with her bout of whooping and prancing, she collapsed onto the semi-overgrown trail, smiling at the thought of how much experience she must have gained already.

A quick glance upwards towards the sun helped her determine which direction of the path she was to follow, and after noting which way was west she began to dig around inside her hip bag. As she sat on the leaf-strewn ground, nibbling on some chocolate, she realized that she probably should have brought some sort of drink along with her. She was still good to go for a little while, but only because following the trail would require far less physical exertion than it took hacking her way to it. Even so, she felt pretty silly for forgetting to pack something as vital as water.

After a few minutes of snacking and resting, Ribbon dusted off her armor and launched into a fast trot along the Hunter’s trail, just happy to find the route easy and unobstructed. But, after only about half a mile, her initial enthusiasm fell apart, with her reserves of energy having been vastly overestimated. It was a simple mistake, one that could be fixed with a short break to reset her pace, but Ribbon’s inexperience extended all the way to the simple task of strolling through the woods. Her light and springy steps were soon replaced by the stoic plodding of a traveler that had only their destination in mind, with all her thoughts dedicated to simply moving one foot after the other.

She couldn’t remember how far this trail went, and with it curving and twisting around the thick trees and shrubs, she quickly lost track of how far she had already gone. Her armor had quickly gone from uncomfortable to painful, pinching at her joints with each step and practically suffocating her by clinging so closely to her skin. While a more sensible person would have realized that she needed to take a break, she trudged on, her breathing ragged, only semi-conscious and torturing herself with the hope that the road she was seeking would be just around the next tree.

In her half-delirious state, she didn’t even notice the bizarre object in her path until she was barely ten feet away from it. It looked like a giant red puff of fuzz, gently swaying in the slight wind, and some deep instinct called out to Ribbon to reach out and touch it. Before she could act on that impulse, the puff flicked upwards twice, and then the creature spun around, revealing itself to be a Dire Squirrel.

Unlike their ordinary cousins, the giant squirrel was about the size of a large dog, with bony gray protrusions and ridges growing on its face and running down its back. It flicked its enormous tail once more, as if to signal that it had acknowledged and simultaneously dismissed RIbbon’s presence. The casual, primordial insult was not lost on Ribbon, and as her brain slowly caught up to the situation, she realized this was her first encounter with a monster on her adventure.

Her lips slowly curled into a grin, which widened as her hand found the handle of her sword. With an awkward jerk, she freed it from its straps, and held it in front of her, the square tip aimed directly at the Dire Squirrel. The squirrel sniffed the air once, assessing the threat in front of it, and gave a casual flick of its tail to express once more what it thought of her.

Her fatigue forgotten, Ribbon leapt forward, her sword slashing out with speed that seemed almost unnatural coming from her small frame. The rodent reflexes of the squirrel were all that saved it from the attack, and it leapt backwards out of Ribbon’s reach. As it landed, it bared its large incisors, a promise of pain that was usually enough to scare even animals ten times its size. But, the young girl, who was barely larger than it was, didn’t seem to notice the threat as she rushed in, her sword raised high above her head.

With speed that can only be found in a creature whose life depended on its agility, the Dire Squirrel dodged the attack with a leap to the side, and the sudden absence of her target lead Ribbon to stumble forward. As she passed, the giant rodent leapt at her, aiming for her neck and shrieking furiously.

Ribbon managed to bring up a single arm to intercept the beast, but it crumpled beneath the weight of the attack. Her thin body was slammed into the ground, and the squirrel began to tear viciously at the thin armor of her collar. Letting go of her sword, Ribbon reached for the squirrel with both hands, desperately trying to push it away from her, but it thrashed furiously against her, its claws leaving deep gouges in her armor.

She began to scream as she struggled, her cries mixing with the enraged shrieks of the squirrel, and her panic only amplified as she heard the sound of her own voice. With the reckless insanity that comes from having a giant rodent snapping its jaws only inches away from your face, Ribbon stopped pushing the squirrel with her left hand, pulling it towards her instead.

Its giant teeth sank into her armor, and as she felt the sharp pain upon her collarbone, she wrapped her arm around the squirrel’s head, clutching it against herself. As it thrashed, trying to free itself from her improvised headlock, she hooked her right arm into its belly, again and again, her fist pumping furiously with all the strength she could muster.

Its body spasmed with each blow, but with a sudden, violent jerk, it tore itself loose from her grip, kicking off and away from her. As it landed several feet away, the two of them looked at each other with newfound respect and hatred, taking a few steps back before deciding how to resume their attacks.

But, just as Ribbon bent down to pick up her discarded sword, the Dire Squirrel reconsidered. With a final, angry shriek, it leapt towards the nearest tree, running up it and disappearing into its higher branches.

As she watched it go, a few scattered leaves slowly falling down in its wake, Ribbon’s fatigue returned to her redoubled. She dropped her sword once again as her legs gave out, her armored rump bouncing slightly as it slammed into the ground. She sat there for several minutes, gasping for air while her armor constricted her chest, waiting for her thoughts to settle.

As the adrenaline dissolved away, the pain in her neck and arms hit her sharply. She clutched at the wound at her collar, wondering how deep it might be and whether or not she was going to die. It had been a foolish gamble to try and endure a bite from a dire squirrel, and she could almost feel her life slipping away from her. She had been stupid, lived a stupid life, and now was going to die a stupid death, and all because she had decided to pick a fight with the single strongest squirrel in likely the entire world.

>>47513954
I'm not reading this shit.

Fucking post something as an introduction to this you writefag.

With anger directed towards everyone and everything, chiefly with herself, she tore at the straps of her armor, hastily fumbling with the latches half-consciously. As soon as the armor at her chest was free, she took a deep breath, filling her lungs painfully, and she felt a powerful chill as she released it. As she breathed, her scattered frustrations slowly took shape.

Damn this armor. Damn her sword. Damn Rage, damn Cestree, damn this forest, damn that stupid squirrel. Possessed by her anger, she grabbed at her sword as she quickly stood up, pieces of her armor falling from her as she did so. Leaping towards the nearest tree, she furiously swung at it, channeling all her resentment into the strike. She swung again and again, mindlessly, even as each impact sent a painful jolt through her arm and she lost control of her breathing once again, gasping for air with short, pained breaths. But, the exercise drained her frustrations, slowly calming her down as the wind from her sword cooled her sweat-soaked body.

Her senses finally returning to her, RIbbon awkwardly looked down, only to find a large bruise where the squirrel’s teeth had hit her collarbone. She was hit with a sudden blast of relief, but it quickly gave way to embarrassment as she realized the attack she thought was going to kill her hadn’t even broken her skin.

Feeling stupid, her anger towards the squirrel and all the rest dissipated, replaced by the shame that comes from the painful hindsight after losing a fight. There was no reason for her to have attacked the squirrel, regardless of how dire it was. She had been overconfident, assuming her enemy to be an easy source of a little experience, and in the end all she had done was ruin the day of some woodland critter and come off worse in the encounter.

And, worst of all, she was now thirsty. Really, really thirsty, with her throat sore and dry from all her screaming, and the pain worsened by the knowledge that she wasn’t carrying even a single drop to drink. With unknown miles to the Birchwood tavern, her formerly pristine armor now tattered and scattered around her, she was forced to shoulder the fact that all of this was explicitly her own fault.

Collecting and reassembling her armor silently, Ribbon fell into a spiral of her own thoughts. She hadn’t even arrived at where her adventure was supposed to begin, and already she had proven that she was underprepared, under-equipped, under-experienced, and just generally inept when it came to being an adventurer. For the first time since she had decided upon this path, she questioned whether or not she could even handle the slow and easy life of the grinding adventurer, considering that she had lost against the weakest monster she’d be likely to encounter.

Rage’s words came back to her now, and Ribbon felt a twinge of annoyance. That twinge steadily grew, until it became full-on anger towards the salamander and his doubts. Yes, she had not done particularly well up to this point, but that wasn’t really a surprise to anyone. It was, after all, her first time of actually adventuring on purpose, and with that in mind, she was had already done better than most people could. She had already passed the first initial hurdle to becoming an adventurer, regardless of how low it might have been, and now she was going to prove that she could handle the rest. Trying to throw aside her anger, Ribbon gathered herself together, strapping her sword to its place on top of her hip bag, and set off down the Hunter’s Trail once again.

She moved with a determined, measured gait, her steps fueled by the remnants of anger and her desire to prove herself. Even her thirst and pain was momentarily dismissed by her resolve, and she was so caught up in her own thoughts that she was surprised to find herself stepping out onto the dirt road that lead to the tavern, all in what seemed no time at all.

The road was wide, but still shaded by the surrounding forest, with shallow ruts carved into it from the rare cars that were willing to endure the multitude of stones and roots. It was seldom used even by pedestrians these days, and as Ribbon looked down from one side to the other, she saw that she was still very much alone.

Following the road was no great challenge, and Ribbon’s mood vastly improved as she made good time with a steady pace. She was only a few miles away from her home, but it already felt like a completely different world, and the excitement of exploration pushed her around each twist and bend of the road. For several minutes, she really felt like she understood that mysterious “Calling” that adventurers would talk about, that irresistible desire to see new things and to encounter new experiences.

But, as each new turn revealed simply more trees like the ones she had already passed, the adventuring spirit slowly began to drain out of her. She knew her chances of meeting a dragon, or a prince, or a wizard, or really anything interesting were slim, but even just seeing a fellow traveler would have been nice. With her hopes dashed each time a new part of the road revealed itself, Ribbon had to consciously remind herself that her adventure hadn’t even really started yet, and it would be out of place to encounter something amazing before she had even reached the tavern.

As the sun climbed to its noon position, the shade offered by the trees slowly crept away, and Ribbon’s desire for a drink soon became unbearable as the sunlight soaked into her dark armor. She deliriously began to wonder if her sweat was pooling anywhere in her armor, and whether or not she’d be willing to drink it. But, before she could settle that internal debate, a weathered signpost offered her a much less desperate solution. It simply read “Birchwood Tavern, one mile” in carved letters, and Ribbon’s steps lightened considerably as she increased her pace.

She spotted the tavern from a good distance away, a thin plume of smoke marking it long before she saw the building itself. It was partially hidden within a grove of birch some distance from the intersection of the two roads it served, with white and black walls striped and speckled like the trees surrounding it. There was something refreshing and cool about its appearance, like some sort of peppermint treat, and Ribbon felt a measure of relief even before she reached its massive wooden doors.

She stopped in front of them, taking a moment to look over her appearance. Her armor was dirty and had deep scratches in its pleather, looking as if Ribbon had dragged it through the forest rather than worn it. But, the dirt and scars helped mask the low quality of her armor, giving Ribbon a measure of artificial authenticity as an adventurer. Even though she knew it would still be hard to have people take a young elven girl seriously, Ribbon felt a little more confident from her weathered appearance, and boldly opened the door.

It was a large, high-ceilinged room, dimly lit with candles on the scattered tables and in hanging lanterns. As her eyes adjusted to the semi-darkness, Ribbon saw no one except the enormous bartender, a hulk of a man wedged behind the bar and delicately removing bottles from a crate. His giant hands forced him to use only his thumb and forefinger with each bottle, and he was neatly arranging them on the shelf behind him.

He acknowledged her with a slight inclination of his head over a burly shoulder, before finishing with the last few bottles. Nearly eight-feet tall and muscled like an ox, the loose brown tunic he wore could have doubled as a tent for someone of Ribbon’s size, with massive sleeves that still barely managed to cover his oversized forearms. After slightly adjusting a few bottles to ensure they were evenly spaced, he turned towards the young elf, moving near one of the hanging lanterns.

She saw what could have been a handsome face were it not for a large, bulbous nose that Ribbon knew could only belong to someone with a large measure of troll blood. The mess of scraggly black hair helped bolster that assumption, as did the dark, lion-like eyes. The flickering light of the candles illuminated hundreds of raised lines upon his pale skin, scars that Ribbon guessed were remnants of wounds that would have killed men of different ancestry. He gave a quick glance downwards at her armor before returning to stare directly into her eyes, and casually asked “What can I get you?”

“Water,” Ribbon said, her parched throat giving a horrible rasp to the word. The bartender made no further comment, and simply grabbed a glass, filled it, and set it on the counter. As she approached, he grabbed a cloth, and turned away from her to begin dusting off the bottles on the top of the shelf behind him. Despite her thirst, she hesitated as she reached out for the glass, stopping just before touching it. “How much do I need to pay?” she asked.

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>>47513954

The bartender looked down at her, and without any malice, simply said “It’s water,” before returning to his task. Embarrassed, Ribbon shifted uneasily for a moment, momentarily forgetting her thirst and simply staring right through the glass in front of her. The sharp squeak of the bartender’s rag being rubbed on a bottle brought her back to her senses, and she quickly reached out for the glass. She felt the cold of the ice water through her pleather gloves, and almost reflexively snapped it to her lips.

She drank quickly and deeply, the water soothing her throat and filling her with life again, and she sputtered slightly as she finished. Revived, her immediate needs satisfied, she simply stared into space as she planned her next move. Having chilled her brain with the ice water, no thoughts came to her. After several moments, she managed to achieve enough focus to pay attention to the bartender as he went about his work, but any actually useful thoughts eluded her.

Noticing her glass was empty, the bartender asked if she’d like a refill, and she simply nodded. Otherwise, he remained focused on preparing the bar for later that evening, and Ribbon just ended up taking a seat at one of the tables, sipping at her glass while wondering what her next move should be.

WHEN DO WE GET TO THE SEX

“It’s kind of empty in here, isn’t it?” she said finally, addressing the room.
“Not many people before five,” the bartender replied as he sliced a lemon into wedges.
“Do a lot of people come around then?”
“Sometimes.”
“People in trouble? Looking for help? In need of someone to partake in a quest?”
“Not often. Much easier to use the internet.”
“Internet?” Ribbon asked, her ears drooping slightly.
“There’s even a phone app. Finds parties nearby. Makes it easy to get a group at the right level,” the bartender said as he pulled out his phone. It looked tiny in his enormous hands, but with surprising dexterity he swiped around on its touchscreen until he brought up the app he was looking for.

Ribbon stared at the glowing screen. Slowly, as she realized that she could have leisurely stayed at home and selected a quest from a filtered list, her ears dipped down even lower. As he pocketed his phone, the bartender noticed her downcast expression, and said simply, “Some people still prefer the traditional way.” When Ribbon didn’t respond, he moved on to check the barrels in the cellar.

Without realizing he had gone, Ribbon sat in silence. Lost once again in her own thoughts, she couldn’t help but feel a little like an idiot. She hadn’t even bothered to check if there were any sites like that, instead choosing to rely on her gaming knowledge to set up her plan. Once again, she had no one to blame except for herself, and she wondered just how many more times on this journey she’d find herself regretting some mistake she had made.

Still, it amazed her just how much even an expert like herself still had to learn, and in a way, it also excited her. She was learning so much so quickly, she couldn’t help but feel like she was on the verge of levelling up. Her mood improved dramatically at the thought, and she soon began to daydream about what it would be like once she became a famous adventurer.

When the bartender returned, he once again asked if she wanted a refill. Feeling like she could splurge a little, she reached into her pocket and pulled out her coin purse. After making a careful series of calculations while rummaging through her coins, she asked how much a cup of tea would be. “It’s mostly water,” the bartender replied, and set himself towards brewing a cup.

Sipping her heavily floral-flavored tea, Ribbon relaxed and allowed herself to drowse a little in the warm, dark tavern. There really wasn’t much she could do but wait, and it didn’t take long for her to become as much a part of the room as the other pieces of furniture. The bartender stopped to check in on the sleepy elf once every hour or so, but left her to herself once she had fallen completely asleep, her head resting on her arms.

When Ribbon awoke, she was surprised to find that the tavern was no longer empty. A trio of old robed men drinking and laughing together, a handful of dwarves sampling a collection of ales, and a pair of young half-orc women trying to engage the bartender in a conversation caught Ribbon’s eye first, but as she continued to look around the room, she saw a wide assortment of people, all seemingly enjoying themselves.

She watched the crowd passively, almost in a daze, and hardly registered the large mug being placed in front of her. Looking up from its slightly steaming contents, she found herself staring at an ample chest that she immediately recognized. There was a slight delay as her eyes made the long journey up to the barmaid’s face, and Ribbon wasn’t entirely sure if she was dreaming or not.

“Cestree…?” she asked sleepily, glancing down again to make sure it was the same succubus she was familiar with. Cestree’s long red hair, which was usually left to curl and cascade wherever it wished, was tied in a neat ponytail, and she was wearing an ensemble of a pale pink apron with a tight black dress that might have been modest on someone else, but rather alluring with her curvaceous figure.

“Nice to see you’re finally awake. I’m impressed you managed to sleep through all this noise,” Cestree replied cheerfully, nudging the mug closer to Ribbon.
“What’s this? More importantly, what are you doing here? What are you wearing?”
“It’s hot mulled cider, and it’s delicious. You really need to try it.”
“But what are you doing here?”

“I didn’t tell you?” Cestree asked, looking rather sad at the thought that she had forgotten to inform her friend, “I work here part time. For the past month or so, more or less.”
“I thought you were working as an assistant to some wizard.”
“Oh! Yes, I still am.”
“And what about that assistant kindergarten teacher thing?”
“I actually was there right before I came here.”
“The modelling?”
“Apparently, horns are not really popular right now, so I haven’t gotten a lot of calls recently.”
“Just how many jobs do you have?” Ribbon asked, struggling to remember the others that Cestree had mentioned before.
“Well, games are really expensive these days, so I basically take any job I can get,” Cestree replied, once again nudging the mug.

“I remember when I got my first chess set, and I didn’t really need anything else,” Cestree continued, after seeing that Ribbon had begun drinking the cider, “I could play forever. Even when I was alone there where chess puzzles and famous matches to play through, and sometimes I would just come up with chess variants of my own. Silly things, like a version where the bishop could combine and sit atop the rook and become a wizard, or where the pieces could level up, and I could play like that for hours. All I needed was my chess set.”

“But now, I can hardly keep up,” Cestree continued, staring wistfully beyond Ribbon, “There’s always new board games and expansions to purchase, card games release new sets every few months, new rulebooks, new miniatures, even brand new games altogether. With the way things are going, I’ll end up working so much that I won’t have a chance to play, and I just can’t handle that kind of irony.”

“Wow, this is amazing!” Ribbon shouted as she finished her cider, having ignored everything Cestree had said, “It was like… like drinking a delicious forest!”

“I’m glad you liked it. It’s one of the Birchwood Tavern’s most popular drinks, and I’m really happy that you made your way out here to try it.”
“I actually came out here for much more than that.”
“Rage told me you decided to give the adventuring life a try. So, how’s your adventure been so far? A lot of fun?” Cestree asked, leaning forward eagerly.

Ribbon hesitated. She turned away from Cestree and glanced around the room, collecting her thoughts while she watched the half-orcs sitting at the bar engage in some private debate. She really hadn’t done all too much aside from arriving at the tavern, and she was quite certain that she wasn’t going to be telling anyone about her encounter with the Dire Squirrel anytime soon. Looking back into Cestree’s excited face, Ribbon didn’t have the heart to either tell her the truth or to lie to her.

“I’ll tell you the whole story later, “Ribbon dodged, “Right now, I’ve got to find some good rumors that will lead me to some good quests, and who knows how long that might take.”
“Well, if you’re looking for rumors, the best place to start is always with either the bartender or one of the barmaids.”
“And?”
“Well, you can always just go up to Bastwen and ask...Oh! Well, you can always ask me!”
“...And?”
“Hmm…nothing really interesting is coming to mind right now. It’s funny, but you don’t actually get to hear a lot of stories about lost ruins or mad wizards. Mostly people just come here to complain about jobs and various aches and pains. Sore hip, knee that aches when it rains, those sorts of things.”
“There’s got to be something,” Ribbon said, a hint of worry in her voice, “Where else am I supposed to go for rumors if even taverns don’t have them?”
“Well, actually, there’s a neat little app that-”
“I know about the app. Look, I just need any kind of quest. Anything. Rats in the cellars, lost kitten, whatever.”

“Well… alright, there sounds like a lot of people were talking last night about strange noises coming from the forest south of here. Some of the farmers that live around there said their animals were on edge this past week, though they might have just wanted to join in the conversation.”
“Noises?”
“Oh! Well,” Cestree said, blushing slightly, “Each person didn’t really describe what they heard, they just went ahead and acted it out. It almost became a bit of game, with everyone competing to see who could match the noise best.”
“And? What did they sound like?”
“It was sort of a growling, kind of a roar, a little like a laugh, and like someone was messing around with the whole thing with a wah-wah pedal.”
“That’s not a lot of help. That could really be anything.”
“Alright,” Cestree said, now blushing furiously, “It sounded sort of like ‘GrreeeahhhhrrrrAAAAHHHHHRRRRRAAAAOOOOO’.”

The tavern had gone unusually silent halfway through her imitation, and the silence lingered even after she finished. “Sort of like that,” Cestree said, looking down and fumbling with her hands at the hem of her apron.
“No idea what that could be, but it’s definitely some kind of monster,” Ribbon replied as the noise of the tavern slowly returned.
“Glad I could help…”
“Some kind of horrible, terrible, ugly, unlovable monster.”
“Yes, well, that’s what the people last night sounded like.”
“And, if that’s the case, that means I have enough to head out,” Ribbon said as she rose from her chair.

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What is wrong with you

“Oh! Are you sure? It sounds like it could really be something dangerous.”
“Isn’t that exactly what an adventurer wants? It wouldn’t be much an adventure otherwise.”
“Are you sure you don’t want to assemble a party first?” Cestree asked, looking rather concerned, “It really could be anything, and it might be best to try and prepare as much as you can before you go out.”

Ribbon stopped, considering the idea. She had been so excited to finally be back on to adventuring that she had completely forgotten about her last encounter with a monster. Whatever was in the Southern forest would definitely be much scarier and stronger than a dire squirrel for people to have taken notice, and that likely meant that she was walking straight towards her own death. The weight of the thought sunk into her, and she had to reach out for the table to steady herself, hoping that Cestree hadn’t noticed.

With false bravado, Ribbon said what she truly felt. “It wouldn’t have any meaning if I relied on anyone else to help me in this. I’m going to go and find out what is in those woods, because people are scared and it might be something very dangerous. If it’s too much for me to handle, I’m going to run. I can do this much.”

Cestree stared at Ribbon, not bothering to hide how worried she was. She opened her mouth to say something, but she stopped when she saw the smallest flicker of a plea in Ribbon’s eyes. With a sudden shake of her head to clear her doubts, Cestree stood up, allowing Ribbon’s resolve to resonate with her. “If you’re sure, then just try not to be too reckless. I know you’re a lot stronger than you look, but that doesn’t mean you have to hurt yourself trying to prove that.”

“I won’t,” Ribbon replied, not sure if she should smile, “This is just a scouting mission. I can handle that.”
“Good luck then, and try to have fun. I know it’s a serious mission, but that’s no reason not to try and enjoy yourself.”
“I don’t know if that’s great or terrible advice, but I’ll take it,” Ribbon replied, and with some difficulty made it through the crowd to exit the tavern.

Cestree continued to watch her as she went, wondering whether she really had made the right decision to tell Ribbon and to let her go. While she trusted Ribbon to be able to do whatever she set her mind to, there were just some challenges that couldn’t be resolved by guts and spunk, no matter how much of them you had. She briefly considered following her, maybe even openly asking to join her, but Cestree threw those ideas aside as she remembered the look in Ribbon’s eyes.

She stood staring at the door for about a minute after Ribbon had left, before she remembered that she was still working. As she reached out for the empty mug, she noticed a slight shake in her hand, the tiniest loss of control. Ribbon was going to be fine. Being worried about her now wasn’t going to help her in anyway. With a final wish and hope that Ribbon would come out of her first adventure stronger and happier, Cestree focused on going around to the other tables, asking if anyone needed something from the bar.

As Ribbon started walking South, she tried to take a guess at what time it was. The sun was blocked by the trees, but the purple and orange sky signaled there wasn’t much daytime left. This wouldn’t be much of a problem for her, since her eyes were well adapted to the dark, and she prided herself on being able to walk throughout her pitch-black house at night whenever they failed to pay the power bills.

She followed the Southern road in good spirits, her nap in the tavern and the mulled cider having rejuvenated her. She walked until the sun set, at which point she took a small break to eat one of the sandwiches Cestree had made. It was a simple meal, but with Cestree always buying the best ingredients, the taste lead a ravenous Ribbon to devour it with fervor before starting on the second one. They had been big sandwiches, but she finished both in only a few minutes, and then a bit more sluggishly started walking again.

She had a rough idea of where she needed to go. The noise Cestree had made likely belonged to some large monster, which ruled out areas that would be difficult for such a creature to travel through, as well as anywhere that there wasn’t enough food to sustain such a monster. By her guess, that meant that she’d find what she was looking for in the part of the Southern Forest where the forest bison dwelt, where the trees were thin and spaced rather far apart, with tall grass growing in between. Luckily, she would have to travel through some more difficult woods before she came to that part, which meant that if she needed to escape, she could flee to where the large monster couldn’t follow her so easily.

With half a moon in the night sky, Ribbon could see quite clearly along the road, though she could only see a few yards into the forest beyond it. However, her long ears caught the sound coming from deep in the woods, and she listened to the animals she couldn’t see carefully making their ways through the darkness. Most of the sound actually came from the insects and birds, chirping to each other in such numbers that made Ribbon wonder just how many millions lived in just this forest alone.

While listening to particularly pleasant birdsong, Ribbon stopped walking when she hear the song get cut short. The rest of the forest also grew quiet, and soon all Ribbon could hear was the sound of her own breath, which she realized she had lost control of.

Then, almost like a crack of thunder, the forest shook from a roar. It was nothing like the silly noise Cestree had made in the tavern, but a scream that tore at the air around Ribbon, reverberating and pulsating with unearthly tones, and she struggled to remain standing as the roaring continued. When she finally managed to calm down enough to start thinking clearly again, she realized that the roars had come from a fair distance away, far into the forest, and this only served to frighten her more.

She looked down at the road, before turning around to look back at the way she had come. She could run back to the tavern, maybe get some help, maybe just avoid coming back altogether. She was supposed to be taking the easy route, living the safe and plodding lifestyle of the grinding adventurer, and this was something clearly out of her comfort zone. In the future, she certainly would be able to take care of it, but at her current level it was just too much. It was a monster which everyone would agree was perfectly reasonable to be afraid of, and she could go back to picking fights more suitable to her experience. The smart thing to do was to go back, to run back to the tavern.

As much as she hated herself for it, she couldn’t. Her feet might as well have been made of lead, not letting her go either towards the forest or back to the tavern, stuck to the road with a combination of fear and shame. She knew she had to turn back, that whatever had made that sound was not something she could handle, that she would die if she tried to fight it. Every part of her, from her terrified emotions to her clear-headed logic to her trembling body told her she needed to run back to the tavern, but a single, horrible, nagging thought kept her pinned to where she stood.

What if this happened again? And kept happening? What if she kept running from everything that frightened her? What if she kept thinking “I’ll be able to do it when I’m stronger, but not now”?

She knew she was being stupid, but she couldn’t dismiss the thought that if she turned back now, she would just keep turning back forever. This was what she had been waiting for, her chance to prove that she was more than everyone thought she was, a chance to prove that she was more than even she expected herself to be.

It was a horrible moment, nothing like she had ever expected or wanted it to be, but she knew that she had already told herself a thousand times what her answer would be. That if she chose anything else, she’d be growing into the person she never wanted to become.

She took a step forward. Then another. Then a horrible pause, a moment Ribbon instantly regretted, a moment of pure weakness where her body refused to listen to the insanity that was pushing her forward. With resolve that she knew was coming purely from her own stupidity and nowhere else, she forcefully took another step, and then quickly another, before launching into a furious sprint. With a flicker of tears that may have come from the wind, she dove into the thick woods.

She made her way through the tightly packed trees, aiming for the area she had seen on the map when she had first started planning her adventure, the place where the forest bison grazed, the place where the monster’s roar had come from. Her heart was beating almost painfully, and she struggled to keep her breathing from accelerating towards short, panicked breaths. She reminded herself that she was here to find out what it was, that she didn’t need to fight it, or really even to see it. Any clue to its identity would be enough to turn back to the tavern.

As she moved through the dark forest, she knew she was making too much noise, regardless of how quiet she was trying to be. As another branch snapped thanks to a poorly placed step, Ribbon stopped altogether, her ears raised and listening for the sound of anything that might be approaching. A minute passed, with her heart threatening to burst through her armor, but the woods remained silent. She waited another minute, mostly just to give herself a chance to calm her nerves, but when nothing she did to try and convince herself worked, she moved forward, her eyes darting around at each strange shape and wondering if it might be the monster laying in wait.

It wasn’t long before she found herself stepping into a strange landscape, a field of long grass dotted with tall, thin trees. Shafts of moonlight gave the scene a pale green, otherworldly glow that strangely made Ribbon momentarily forget her terror. There was something beautiful about the way the tops of the trees and the grass swayed slightly with the same wind, a gentle motion that Ribbon had unwittingly found herself falling in rhythm with. Her breathing and steps slowed as she continued forward, drinking in the scene with almost excessive reverence. Cestree’s words about enjoying herself echoed somewhere in the back of her mind, and as Ribbon made her way through the tall, moonlit grass, she couldn’t help but feel some sort of kinship with her wood elf cousins.

The tranquility of the moment was shattered as something dropped with a crash to the ground only ten yards away from her. Ribbon’s sword was in her hand without her even realizing it, and she readied herself for an oncoming charge. Whatever had fallen, however, remained where it lay, the grass swaying around it. As she moved towards what she thought might be a more defensible position, she caught a glimpse of a horn, and she realized what she was looking at.

this isn't your fucking wirter's blog

Man... People here are mad as fuck. Keep going, I want to see where this goes. And the writing is not at all bad.

The thick, powerful neck of the bison was horribly twisted, likely the final blow that had killed the beast. But, beyond that, there were strange wounds all over its shoulders, legs, and face, wounds she struggled to find the words to describe. It was almost as if something had pulled at the flesh, ripping it away from the animal with dozens of small claws, leaving gruesome, gaping wounds.

Ribbon ran through her mental manual, trying to piece together what the creature that had done this might be. It was clearly no ordinary animal, though her thoughts went to the leopard and its manner of dragging carcasses into trees. Examining the bite marks at the bottom of the bison, Ribbon estimated that there was a chance it could be a Dire Leopard, though this wouldn’t explain the strange wounds, nor the horrifying roar that was of no earthly origin.

As she recalled the terrible noise, the forest around her exploded. Pulling at the tips of her ears and pinning them to her head to try and protect her hearing, Ribbon felt the roar more than she heard it. Her knees almost immediately gave out and she fell to the ground, the roar rending the air around her and causing the very ground to tremble.

As the roar ended, panic gripped her. She struggled to move, her fear paralyzing her splayed legs and leaving the rest of her body likewise rigid. The sound of rustling grass brought her to her senses, and she awkwardly rolled to the side, twisting to look behind her.

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It's like I'm really on fanfiction.net.

Keep going.

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>>47517209
>the writing is not at all bad

As she lifted her head, she saw two glowing green eyes, staring from within a jet black void. As the creature moved into a patch of moonlight, Ribbon realized with horror that the monster was an enormous black lion, larger than any lion had any right to be. It stalked forward with bizarre, exaggerated steps, its massive muscles flexing violently as its gleaming claws dug deep into the ground. It moved like no lion she had ever seen moved, an alien gait that made its glowing eyes shift dramatically with each step, though they always remained focused on the young elf before it.

Ribbon stared at the creature with mounting fear, her executioner’s sword feeling light and frail as the giant monster approached her. It moved with forceful but unhurried steps, and Ribbon nearly screamed when she realized it was not alone, the grass a few feet beside it parting as if some giant snake was crawling alongside it.

The hidden monster stopped as the black lion did, the green eyes of the obscene cat staring almost through Ribbon. With dread, Ribbon recognized the worst thing that this creature might have, the one thing that left her without any chance of survival. It did not stare at her as an animal might. It was thinking. Considering her. Evaluating her. Its eyes moved carefully over each part of her, from her sword, to her armor, to her two locks of rebellious hair.

>>47517378
You got something better?

It charged suddenly, and Ribbon scrambled to her feet, moving entirely through instinct. She waited for it to leap at her, tearing her apart with its huge claws, but it suddenly stopped, digging into the dirt as four tentacles shot out from behind its mane.

It was Ribbon’s inexperience that saved her. Her shock at the sudden attack had allowed her only enough time to lift her sword up, but not enough to block the tentacles coming directly at her. Yet, as Ribbon expected the clawed patches at the end of the tentacles to tear at her face, she felt a sudden jolt as something collided with her sword, the force tossing her to the side.

Disoriented and confused, Ribbon tried to figure out what had happened, to see what had hit her. Leaping backwards to try and get some distance between her and the lion, Ribbon realized that whatever had struck her had originated from the patch of flattened grass next to the beast.

As the black lion moved towards her and the patch likewise began to move, Ribbon realized what she was facing.

It was a Displacer Beast.

She felt the urge to run. She knew she had to. This was a monster that could kill her without any trouble just from its strength alone, but it also had the power to distort the light around it, creating the illusion that it was several feet away from where its true position might be. Such a power was a problem even for experienced adventurers, and this was only the second monster she had encountered on her adventure.

It didn’t take long for the beast to conclude that Ribbon had blocked the attack entirely by chance. It charged forward again, but Ribbon wasn’t foolish enough to try and stand and fight it. She turned and ran, only realizing how hopeless even this course of action was when she heard the sound of its distorted growls only a few feet behind her.

As she ran, she turned quickly, painfully twisting to dodge behind a tree, hoping to that enough obstacles might slow the giant monster down. Daring a glance behind her, she was met with an almost incomprehensible sight, with the action and the creature not always lining up where she expected them to.
The lion leapt upwards, and with agility that did not match its size, it landed on the thin tree, which promised to snap from the cat’s weight. Before it could fulfill that promise, the lion kicked off, leaping to a nearby tree before leaping again, completing an odd triangle that put it right back on Ribbon’s tail without losing any momentum. Its tentacles lashed out, and she felt one come unexpectedly from the right, hitting her hard in the side. She felt it try to grip her and to pull her back towards its waiting, black-toothed mouth, but her pleather armor gave and a large chunk was pulled free.

As the monster reeled in its disappointing catch, Ribbon regained her footing and tried running again, clutching at her side. The beast started its chase again after only a moment’s pause, and soon it, or at least its projection, was running next to her.

It ran at her pace, casually dodging between the trees before it suddenly bolted ahead, turning around to face Ribbon as she ran towards it. Instinctively, Ribbon reacted by slashing ahead of her with her sword, hoping that a miracle might happen. That miracle almost did, as her sword flashed through the air and cut into the monster’s face. As it went through without any resistance, Ribbon cursed at her reflexive attack, aimed at something she already knew to be an illusion.

>>47517430
I hate this shitty ass fallacy so much. It's part of what fuels hugboxes.

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I came in here looking for pictures of Cestree, and you faggots disappointed me.

>>47517788
Oh good, the Stockholm syndrome has finally set in and I can tolerate these two now.

The attack came from her left, and this time the tentacle dug deep, biting into her thigh. As it pulled, the illusion twisted and shifted. Sometimes it matched where the tentacle was, and other times it appeared a foot or more away, but Ribbon had enough sense not to question where it might be. As it pulled at her, lifting her off her feet, she ignored the pain and twisted midair in order to strike at it with her sword. She swung with both hands, not even bothering to look and simply swinging down where she could feel the tentacle.

The ugly, gruesome blade sank deep into the rubbery flesh, and with an awkward wrench Ribbon yanked the blade towards her, allowing the notches and scars to act like a serrated edge. A splatter of dark blood burst from the cut, and the tentacle was cut free, still clinging to her leg.

The lion roared. The forest shook, and Ribbon cowered on the ground as the monster emptied its lungs with a resounding bellow. Deafened and disoriented, Ribbon struggled to get back on her feet as she felt a tentacle slam into her back, tossing her several yards before she slid several more along the long grass.

let these meme characters die already

>>47517774
I'm just more a fan of OC than I am about people bitching. Either give actual constructive criticism, or shut the fuck up.

Report it and ignore it if it really bothers you and you're the kind of faggot who thinks it's "muh board culture".

But bumping it and shit posting is retarded,

She had blacked out for a brief moment at the hit, only regaining consciousness when she slammed into the ground. Her sword clattered to the ground next to her, and she deliriously grabbed at it, wondering how much time she had before the Displacer Beast’s next attack. The answer came as another tentacle slammed into her, lifting her once more from the ground.

She was launched, flying a good distance before painfully slamming into a tree, where she crumpled to the grass beneath it. She didn’t know if she had broken a rib, but each breath sent sharp pangs of pain throughout her chest. Pleather or not, had she not been wearing her armor, that last attack would have almost certainly killed her.

The heavy impact of each of the lion’s steps brought Ribbon to her senses, and with a painful gasp of air she rolled, caring for little else but to just be moving. Her instincts were right this time, and she narrowly dodge another flailing tentacle. She half-crawled for a moment before her balance returned to her, and she wasted a second trying to figure out which direction to run to. She needed to get to the part of the forest where the trees narrowed, where she might have a chance to escape it. A tiny, miraculous chance, but she had nothing else she could hope for except to possibly lose it, and then somehow run the several miles back to the tavern.

A short roar from behind her helped convince her which direction she needed to run. She hobbled a few steps, before reaching down and painfully ripping off the tentacle still attached to her thigh. It did little to improve her speed, but she felt a little better without the gross thing clinging to her. Her relief was short-lived, however, as she glanced around to try and locate the beast.

It had moved around her in a wide arc, guessing her intention. It now stood between her and her way back to the road, its wounded tentacle thrashing wildly.

Cursing violently, Ribbon stopped running towards it. She stared at the monster as it stared at her, understanding its wordless message quite clearly. It had been toying with her at first, and then it had almost killed her in its rage. But now, it was going to take its time. It was going to hunt her at its leisure, and she could throw away any hope of escaping.

Ribbon struggled to think. She had always lived her life under the idea that there was a clever solution out of any situation, but there really was nothing she could do. It was faster, stronger, likely even smarter than she was, and it also had an ability that made any attack against it an improbable gamble. All Ribbon had was a dull sword, tattered armor, a sack full of cookies and a bag of dice, and she doubted that it wanted to play any game where there was a chance she would survive.

The Displacer Beast began to almost trot towards her, and it was only now that she realized that the monster had six legs rather than four. It didn’t matter much, Ribbon knew, but she felt strange for not noticing that sort of detail until now. As it continued to advance, Ribbon realized that she had spent this entire encounter following the monster’s initiative, allowing it to set the pace and to control the flow of the battle. What she needed was some way to be proactive, some way to force it to react. When no ideas came to mind, she slowly began to walk backwards, her hands struggling to maintain their grip on her sword.

Darting around the shafts of moonlight, its black form sometimes appearing to pass right through a tree, the Displacer Beast continued to advance. Knowing it wanted her to run, she almost resisted the idea just to spite the monster, but with no better plan she turned away from it, and away from the road that had been her last chance of survival.

>>47518142
You're good, OP. Don't listen to whiners, they're just bitter at their own failure.

It closed the distance in a few long bounds, and Ribbon tried to weave through the trees, hoping that there might be a slim chance of tiring it. But, with almost an air of showing off, it leapt and ricocheted off the trees, their wood groaning and bending from its weight, the thinner ones almost snapping before it leapt to the next.

The headstart it had granted Ribbon had not been all that considerable, and in no time at all it was forcing her to dodge and weave away from its tentacles. It managed to land a few glancing blows, but as it wasn’t in the mood to lose a piece of another tentacle to her sword, it didn’t bother trying to grab her, preferring instead to try and whip and flense her.

Ribbon knew she couldn’t keep it up much longer. Her armor was almost completely destroyed, and she had painfully wide cuts all over her body, allowing blood to soak into her ragged clothes. She likely could only last a minute or so, a final minute of entertainment for this monster, before she collapsed. She wondered if it would let her try and crawl away from it, whether it would enjoy that pitiful spectacle, or whether it would be bored at that point and simply snap her neck. As she dodged behind another tree to avoid the whistling noise of a tentacle whipping out at her, she wondered whether or not the horrible beast would even bother to eat her, wasting a brief thought to consider if she preferred it one way or the other.

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>>47513954

Its heavy body crashing into a tree brought Ribbon out of her poorly timed idle musings, her neck snapping around to watch the bizarre spectacle of the giant cat appearing to leap off of thin air while a tree nearby shuddered and was bent from the force. It was a game for this monster, a game to see how well it could terrify her, how easily it could assert its complete and utter dominance over her. As it performed another acrobatic feat using a thin tree as a springboard in order to lash out once again with one of its three remaining tentacles, Ribbon ducked and rolled behind another tree, a ghost of a plan forming in her mind.

She was taking bigger risks, moving in an almost predictable pattern, and suffering the attacks as she went. After a particularly poor dodge, a tentacle slammed into her shoulder, and had the strap fastening her pauldron to the rest of her tattered armor been made of sturdier material, it likely would have dislocated her shoulder. Instead, the thin pleather band snapped and her pauldron flew far away, leaving Ribbon to complete her panicked circuit.

She had reached the limits of her stamina long ago, and now was only fueled by a single hope. As she clumsily ran, blood streaming down into her left eye while her right ear hung limply, she was comforted by the knowledge that either way, it would all be over soon, and this game with this sadistic monster would end with one of their deaths.

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The beginning was kinda funny. I liked the line about the difference between being a fireman and a bad chef; your humor is a strong point here. Unfortunately, OP, these guys aren't wrong when they say your writing needs work. I'll take a crack at some criticism that I hope you'll find constructive. Spoiled out of respect for your thread.

>passive voice
Using the passive voice saps your sentences of energy.
>To hear him tell the story of her life would be for him to recount a long list of failures.
Make "him" or "the story of her life" the subject of the sentence, instead of the more abstract "to hear him" [which would be to recite a long list of failures]. A revised version might sound like
>From his perspective, the story of her life was a long list of failures.
or
>He thought of her life as a long list of failures.
You'll notice they're both much shorter and to-the-point. That's desirable.

>too many adverbs
Adverbs often add bulk to sentences. Cut them, or make them their own sentences. If they're not worth it standing on their own, they might deserve to get cut entirely.

>telling instead of showing
Allow your reader to infer things based on descriptive details. If so-and-so is annoyed, don't just say "So-and-so was annoyed," or even "So-and-so LOOKED annoyed." Say "So-and-so rolled her eyes," or something like that. Remember, this can apply to more than just characters' emotions.

I strongly suggest writing stuff out entirely BEFORE you post it. Next time, instead of just starting your own thread with a cold open right into the story, try starting a thread with a tangentially related subject and posting it there once people are actually interested in the general subject. If your story is going to take more than two or three posts maximum to publish directly on 4chan, instead make one post with the first ~2000 characters as a hook and put the rest of it in a pastebin.
Don't give up, Anon. You can get better at writing if you just try.

As she dodged behind a particular tree, a rigid tree that threatened to crack rather than bend when the lion had jumped from it before, she listened through her good ear for a particular sound. The sound of the beast’s heavy impact against the ground before it would leap among the trees came almost instantaneously, and instead of continuing to run she dug her heel in and spun, wrenching her hip as her sword swept around.

It was an ugly, crude weapon, heavy and poorly balanced. But, as Ribbon poured every last ounce of strength, every last ounce of her desire to live, she was glad she had purchased such a thick, sturdy, almost axe-like sword.

It sank deep into the wood, and to Ribbon’s own surprise almost cleaved entirely through the tree that was thicker than her thigh. As the giant cat slammed into the tree, just above the angled cut Ribbon had made, there was a loud crack as the last few fragments exploded outwards. The momentum of the beast carried it just a little further, just until it was right on top of the jagged remainder of the tree, and then the weight of the tree falling backwards came down upon it.

Ribbon’s hopes were nearly dashed by the Monster having twisted in midair, avoiding being impaled, but as the tree fell down upon it, Ribbon saw its illusioned double go unconscious before vanishing as it hit the ground.

The tentacles continued to thrash as if they had a will of their own, but soon stopped, and the forest was once again quiet. As soon as she found some reserve of energy, Ribbon hobbled over to where her executioner’s sword had been flung to, its blade having received a new notch.

Unceremoniously, she moved over to the unconscious monster, and with a swift, practiced blow just behind its mane, cut deep into its neck. It was too shallow, and while it certainly killed the beast, it required several more gruesome, hacking cuts before she had severed its head, a task she performed with slowly mounting fury. When at last the head was free from the body, Ribbon’s anger dissipated, and she took a moment to look down at her wounds.

The recognition of just how badly injured she was hit her almost like a tentacle strike, and with the gruesome scene still all around her, she passed out.

When she regained consciousness, it was still nighttime, and while it felt like only a few seconds had passed, Ribbon was willing to accept that it might have been a few hours. Though still horribly tired, she knew she couldn’t fall asleep here. She had too many cuts, too many bruises, and she could only guess what might be broken since everything felt like it might be. Though she could bind up the largest wounds, she needed proper medical attention, and if she waited any longer, it might be the end of her adventuring career.

Leaving the monster’s carcass, Ribbon slowly began her journey back to the tavern, using her sword as an improvised cane that she held onto with both hands. She stumbled half-blind through the woods until she hobbled back onto the road, walking with a single-minded chant of “tavern… tavern…tavern…” echoing in her head.

When she finally awoke, she couldn’t remember if she had actually made it to the tavern or not. Somehow, she had ended up in the hospital, so heavily bandaged that the only part of her she felt she could move was her eyelids, and even just that was painful.

She could sense the presence of people next to her, though the bandages around her head and ears muffled the noise of them speaking to a undecipherable whisper. As she faded in and out of consciousness, she caught a glimpse of Rage and Cestree looking down at her, and she almost smiled.

They seemed worried about her, but even though she wanted to say something to them, to tell them something important, she fell asleep without even being able to blink in recognition.

“So, I’ve been looking through these numbers…” Rage said, floating over to the wheelchair-bound elf.
“I’m not in the mood.”
“You haven’t been in the mood for the three weeks. It’s about time we actually discussed this in a way beyond ‘oh you were so brave’ and ‘we’re so happy you’re alive’.”
“What’s there to even discuss? What are you going to teach me that I don’t already know? What do you have? Something scarier than almost being eaten? Something more painful than having your skin torn off by a BDSM-squid-cat?”
“You can’t just play the victim card every time, especially considering this was all your fault to begin with. I just want to put some things in perspective. You’ve got a bit of a problem with that.”
“Fine. Let’s just get this talk over with, before you spend another month practicing your little speech,” Ribbon said as she wheeled herself towards the window.
“Okay. Fine. I’ll just tell you how it is. To start, the bounty on the unique Displacer Beast was a fair amount of gold. Not a bad start for a first time adventurer.”
“Just get to the complaining part already.”
“Damn it, Ribbon, just let me finish. The unique Displacer Beast was good money, but the hospital bills combined with the theoretical cost of you being unable to work alongside the cost of your completely destroyed armor has left your adventuring enterprise at a flat profit of a couple copper coins. Which I don’t think is worth risking your life over.”
“That’s not fair at all,” Ribbon said as she turned to face the floating salamander, “If you get to talk about theoretical costs, I get to talk about theoretical profits.”
“What theoretical profits? Did you slay some theoretical monsters with theoretical bounties?”

“Har har, no, I’m talking about the most important profit of all.”
“The recognition that your friends care about you and worry about you and don’t want you going out nearly killing yourself for a few copper pieces?”
“No, I got a lot of experience. I learned more in that one day than I’ve learned in any year of my life.”
"But does that somehow make it all worth it?"
"Rage, that's not how life works. You can't just avoid risks and try to stay afloat."
"I know that, I just... You almost died."
"... I know. I'm sorry."
"Don't. I know you're not really sorry, and that's why we needed to have this talk. You almost died, and you're almost going to die again, and again, and one day its not going to be 'almost'."
"Rage, that's life."
"No, whatever pushed you to go into that forest wasn't 'life'. Whatever you had to prove, I think you proved it, so just promise me you wont do something so stupid again."
"Don't worry. That's exactly the sort of thing experience is for. I won't be forgetting any of this the next time I'm debating chasing a mystery monster."
"In that case, I think I can see how valuable it is."
"Great. Now, leave me alone. I've got to see if that site has any new armor in stock."

Mediocre

Your biggest faults are a lack of description and telling instead of showing. Work on that.
I mean, aside from posting on tg and hoping for positive comments.

I was wondering what happened to all the good writefags that /tg/ had. This was rather illuminating.

I READ ALL OF THIS AND THERE WASN'T EVEN ANY SEX

0/10

>>47523120
Chased off by the board police who decided we're not allowed to have fun.

no Ribbon & Cestree smut?

>>47524256

More like we got tired of all of you shitting things up with quests and patreons.

>>47524346
>assumptions
Sure. Board really hasn't changed except you have less writefags than you used to.\

And a lot less people fluffing out your worldbuilding.

>>47524245
>>47524282

You came for the fap-bait, but instead you got regular bait. OP is the perfect troll. An inspiration to us all. 10/10.

>>47524458

No offense, but 99.98% of writefags were of the INSERT WAIFUS, LESBIANS, AND CLOACAS vein of things.

I'm glad to have them gone.

Well. I mean... This isn't shit? It's not good either, but it's not something that I find completely revolting.

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982 KB, 320x287

>'Lmao where's fap fuel? This isn't like my quest threads at all'

Just burn this entire board to the fucking ground already, Mootwo. We deserve it.