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Hello everyone, this is Asclepius, with a great little story from Vyrin, entitled

Mark’s Tales of the Unremarkable, No 1.

This is a prequel to a number of tales which we will be featuring in future episodes. Background music is “Step by Step, by Smartsound.

Mark’s Tales of the Unremarkable, Number 1
Introduction

Hello reader, my name is Mark. The first unremarkable tale I will tell is me. You see, I just woke up in the Vale one day. No light, no disorientation, no unexplainable phenomena. I went to bed one day back in my apartment, and woke up in the Vale, wherever this is. My first thoughts here were pretty straightforward. I figured I had to find something to eat and a place to live and that’s what I did. I stumbled onto an abandoned cottage outside Owl’s Head with four walls and a solid roof. I’m still hoping the owners are gone, not dead really, just not coming back.

Since I was a court reporter, I figured I could offer my services as a scribe. Lord Enmar and a few other nobles give me work now and then. I don’t need much so it’s a steady job. To fill my time I travel around and talk to all the other unremarkable people of the Vale. For some reason I feel I have more in common with them than my outlander brethren. I’m not the type to stare off into the distance with my chin upraised and a furrowed brow. Nor do I feel like crafting stories fraught with breathless enthusiasm for adventure. There are mundane things here too and this world is more than a playground for those of us from elsewhere.

All I know is that if you’re still reading, you must not have much to do with your time. That makes you pretty unremarkable too.

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Hello everyone, this is Aclepius, with another wonderful story narrated by Isaiah. It is entitled
The Cure, by the Vagabond, part 1.
Background music is “Lurid Delusion” by Matthew Pablo, at www.matthewpablo.com.

The Cure, by The Vagabond (Part 1 of 2)

I’ve lived on the streets for months now after I wrote my other letters. Now that I’ve written about my dealings with the Obsidian order to warn people, the thoughts have been getting worse. I fear there will be no escape from this terror I am feeling inside. It is miserable, and I feel like I’m on the edge of an endless and eternal suffering. Killing myself may lead to worse suffering if the Order has some how magically has a hold on my soul.

There seems to be no way out. I’ve known of alchemists that use herbs to quite the thoughts of madmen. I didn’t want to go to them because I know that I am fine except for the fact that the Obsidians are pushing evil thoughts into my head. Not only thoughts, but they manipulate my mind so that I feel unexplainable rage, and dysphoria that felt like an inward fire mixed with unending weakness and the feeling of not wanting to move, and yet not moving makes me feel worse.

That’s it! I’m going to an alchemist. I thought that maybe if I went along with the Obsisians’ plot to make me look crazy, that they would leave me alone. It couldn’t hurt. In fact if I pretended that I believed I was crazy then maybe the Obsidians would stop wasting their time with me. Maybe they will let me live in peace so that I don’t talk about them again. I should never have spoken openly about them. The strange thing is my wife found me, because she was worried about me, and she wanted to help me go to one of the alchemists for help. I knew this was a setup by the Obsidian Order, but at this point I was suffering so much I didn’t care. I knew she would tell the alchemist that I was crazy and totally twist what happened so that she looked right, and I looked crazy, but I was fine with that at this point.

We traveled to Kingsport and I found one of the alchemists in the town. Lots of crazies travel through there due to the fighting on the nearby island. When I entered the house of the alchemist he asked me what I was experiencing. I was fearful to be honest. I didn’t want to break any more rules of secrecy. Also right before I began speaking I could hear several mounted people riding by the house. I knew how the Order sends indirect messages, and I knew that the sound of the horses was there way of letting me know they had troupes watching me in case I said something wrong. So I told him that I always feel bad, and I have uncontrollable thoughts and miserable feelings.

Then my wife looked at me, and said “That isn’t all of it…

To be continued