Exhibit 10: "Ranger"

You've all gotten to know the quest timeline pretty well by now. Let's go back a minute.

I was seventeen. I'd been partying and livin' it up—as well as anyone can live it up in Solas Domum —for a couple years. Sure as hell couldn't live it down, y'know? The existential dread had gotten stronger each year, and I could feel it truly approaching; eighteen would be the year. Too right I was. I felt a fire lit under my ass, suddenly gripped with a feeling that I couldn't stay there anymore. I was getting to know every single crevice of the village, and I couldn't stand knowing it wouldn't have anything to offer me for much longer.

So I took off. I said bye to everyone for a while and just walked in a random direction.

I hit woods after a day or two of hard hiking, and a night or two of sleeping under the stars. Not the same woods we got the Evaderes from; just a fairly normal, non-fey touched forest. This was how I got to Mistston my second time—sounds unbelievable, but I wandered in those old, thick trees for what felt like months until I wound up in the city. Must've been a circuitous route. Might've been something correcting my steps.

During all that, I missed home bad. Gretchen surely had too many pocket watches pilin' up without me taking a few off her hands, and Timera didn't have anyone to look out for her. Carmen was probably lonely.

But the sun would eventually go down, and I would go with it. I'd find a nice comfy boulder to lie on, maybe some moss growin' on top, and stare at the infinite sky above me.

And I'd still think about home. I couldn't escape it.

Those worries kept bugging me in my sleep, with some other weird shit mixed in. Always skeletons, y'know, death-related motifs, which I tried to sneak into the background of all these exhibits. If you look real close, you'll see it.

That was the first time I had to hunt. Never got into it as a sport like the other boys—didn't feel like killin' any critters if I didn't need to. But I suppose someone was always doing it, regardless of if I saw it or not… still. Didn't feel like it. Had to a few times, but I mostly subsisted on berries and roots. It takes someone strong and courageous to kill without malice, to do what you have to and bear the consequences for however long.

Basically, what I'm saying is I've got one more player to introduce.

My victory high from Cora's succession faded as we rode toward the second dot on our map. Riding was much faster than one person walking while the others lagged with me, but it still took longer than getting to the first Favor. Loose gravestones piled up the closer we got, and we realized the town of Howe was one big cemetery.

When we pulled up, we were greeted by a dark-haired woman with unnatural youth. I'll spare you the details this time—this is Keelo's story. The important part is the person who walked out of the church behind her.

Euphor Everclear was, yet again, a runaway royal. I didn't care. The first thing out of his mouth when we introduced ourselves was, "I'm on a journey of atonement." He'd gotten into a situation where he had to kill a pack of were-rats, only to learn the were part when their corpses turned back. His companions told him to run and not look back.

I knew instantly: he was a kindred spirit, come to save me.

That was what the quest had turned into for me. I knew I'd find some way to redeem myself before I had to bite it. Either that, or I'd turn into a monster so vile there'd be no telling there was a person underneath to begin with. I bounced between those two extremes on the daily. On the good days, during my quick meditation time, I just barely managed to drown the guilty voice in all the clean water Mistston now had access to, and in the blood of Nicholas Ridice. On the bad days, the shadows stared at me.

But Euphor didn't try to drown his ghosts—he sat with them. He didn't beg their forgiveness, he held their chilled hands and endured the cold. He became my new rock, the new boulder I slept on—I move a lot in my sleep. He was calm, subdued, and almost resigned. He didn't burn particularly bright on the surface, but he became the new star I followed.

We holed up inside that church, not wanting to stay the night. He was aimless, so he came in with us; for some reason, Keelo and I felt we could trust him, while Promise didn't seem to care much either way. We told him the deal, how the Scythe was stolen and the world could hypothetically end, and he decided to come along. He was comically serene.

I said before that I've never really had a crush. I imagine that's the closest I've gotten to what most people feel, but mainly, I just really, really wanted to be his friend. It was the kind of intense, immediate friendship I hadn't experienced since I was a kid, and like that first one, I didn't want to see him look so damn sad anymore.

Howe was a nightmare, of course, but we got the second Favor. The third was in the port city of Lunaris, halfway across the continent. Euphor was a ranger—a drakewarden—and a seasonal elf at that, so he was more than able to decipher our path through the wilds and gather some good game for us over that two week travel.

Over those two weeks, the basilisk egg hatched.

Cora had given it to Keelo to watch over, since they knew how to incubate it with their portable gadgets. The first cracks appeared, and we were in a panic. Euphor's eyes were the only part of him visibly rattled; Keelo suggested Euphor hold it, since he already had a baby drake wrapping his shoulders, and he accepted it with only token hesitation. It hatched, and I could see right away it had its new mama.

We brainstormed names for the next week. Once we finally got Promise to pitch in after several fails of our own, he threw out "Inevitable Betrayal." So Euphor's new little basilisk became Neville.

I told Neville I killed his real mama. I don't think he's intelligent, but still… he didn't seem to mind too much. That was a relief, at least. Keelo and Euphor managed to train him to not look any of us in the eyes, so we avoided accidental petrification. Good on us.

One night, when he was training Neville and Drake together, I sat next to Euphor at the campfire. I trailed him a few times when he hunted—I can be quiet when I need to—and witnessed the moment he made a kill. It was never joyous or celebratory; in fact, he apologized and asked forgiveness from the deer or rabbit.

I wanted some of that strength for myself. I wanted to know what it was like to look what you'd done in the eye and soak in the remorse, without letting it kill ya. To be rid of your obstacles, whether that be hunger, an evil ruler, or an inconvenient spoke in a greater wheel standing in front of your exit, and accept it unflinchingly. I knew I had to find some way to live with it, at least until my final evil deed, or I'd be just like Nathaniel—unable to take the plunge while everything I cared about washed away.

I watched Euphor and the lizards in what looked suspiciously like formless playing, not training, for a few minutes before speaking up. It was a two-line conversation: I asked if he could show me the ropes on the whole ranger thing, and he said, "Yeah, sounds good," with those unnervingly gentle eyes and a very slight smile.

So that's how it went. Every night, he taught me how to identify a local plant and what properties it had, or an animal footprint he found, or a new phrase or word in elvish. He taught me how to survive in the wild by my own skill, not just blind luck. It was surprisingly easy to focus on the lessons, considering there wasn't much required reading in the forest—it was all pictures.

Another thing I learned was how absolutely buckwild it was that I survived my first nature walk at all. I must've been ingesting parasites and on the verge of starvation the whole time. I didn't like thinkin' about that.

Lunaris was… a sight. Its gate is guarded by a bonafide angel—very literally, I mean that—and its clergy is largely dedicated to Light. Specifically, it was her moon aspect, so they treated children with lycanthropy. That just seemed like another disaster waiting to happen with my luck, so I steered way clear.

Then there was the ocean.

I'm a hick. A bumpkin. Before then, I'd never left the square I was born in and the biggest city nearby. Y'know, Mistston isn't that big, all things considered. Lunaris is huge, but the ocean is huger. Euphor grew up in a port city on the west coast, where his gramps is the king, so the eastern ocean was a familiar-unfamiliar sight. I splashed the hell out of him, and when he fought back, I saw the first genuine laughter from his face since we'd met. I was glad I was the one who brought it out.

There's a whole other story here. We met the queen and her family, and they parted with the third Favor pretty easily once they learned who Euphor was. He was more subdued than usual, observing how they got along with each other.

I won't go into it, but his family is horrific. Ultimately, I'm glad he was forced to run. I'm glad he got out. It reminded me that others have it so much worse than I've had it, and despite it all—in spite of it all, you can still frolic barefoot in the sea with someone you've just met.

You've probably noticed I've got a water theme with a lot of these paintings. It's an easy thing to latch on to, an element. I wanted to really incorporate the wind into this one, so I went for a much more cartoony style; the ocean in geometric waves, the setting sun flaring enthusiastically. I think this is the first time I've drawn or painted myself looking genuinely happy. Don't mind that Euphor looks hunkier than real life.

I had a dream the first night we stayed. It was one I'd had repeatedly in my life, and several waking times in Howe. I shriveled to a skeleton, and watched people I swore I recognized walking into the horizon. An old man. An elven man. Their white-haired daughter, still sweaty from the forge. A pale woman with her temples turning purple. Instead, that night, I sank into the dark underwater abyss while they shouted at me.

Then I had the thought that I didn't survive my nature walk. Maybe I'd been a shade the whole time, a revenant haunting the living world.

For what purpose, I was starting to doubt.

GALLERY OF FORTUNE SIMPLECREEK—RECEIPT—9/18/1316

EXHIBIT #10: "RANGER" SOLD TO EUPHOR EVERCLEAR (150 GP)