Back To Basics (PM for entry)

[Ravvus Wiseau]

Ravvus glided his pointer finger along the raised lettering of his book. 'Fire', read the gilded title plainly. A book which had long been the novice mage's weapon of choice. A meager means of self defense. The type given to beginners. Not quite as potent as a well-forged blade, but not quite as a crude as a pitchfork. And now it was obsolete.

The hot-headed mage removed his finger from the magical manual. With a suppressed sigh, Ravvus rose from his seat and continued walking through town. The blond man had made his way back to Etruria. Back to the Pathfinders and, hopefully, more work. On his way through the country-side he'd heard whispers and rumors of a new anima tome. Something made with the intention of rendering the simple, yet reliable, fire tome outdated.

Trinity, the townsfolk had been calling it.

A book containing the spells for fire, as well as wind and thunder. It had been some time since Ravvus used either of the latter. He remembered being proficient in lightning spells. Lightning was similar to fire in it's casting doctrine. Strike and forget. A bolt of lightning, much like a fireball, vanished rapidly after being cast. There were some ways, in fact, that thunder spells were more adherent to fire's philosophy of 'fire and forget'. Fire balls tended not to linger, but they could leave behind streaks of flame. Thunder, however, never left electricity behind. A scorch here or there, but no offspring of the element itself. The intensity and power of thunder was something Ravvus respected, something he found solidarity in.

Wind, however, was something Ravvus had little talent for. It was a fickle element, changing directions at a moment's notice. In large enough quantities, wind could be very powerful too. It could topple structures, even heave them from the earth. Wind could stop a man in his tracks and inspire lighter objects to fly. But it was also a very loving element. Wind could blow out a raging fire or calm a weary traveler with a soothing caress. It was gentle. Gentleness... This was a concept unfamiliar to Ravvus. Fickleness, intensity, fury, these were things Ravvus had an easy time experiencing. But milder temperaments? Kindness, compassion, patience. Such states of being were frail, weak. There were unbecoming of someone with the power to dictate the elements. And yet they were required to control water and wind. Contradictions.

A pair of dull eyes stared directly ahead of the blond mage. Their duty was to seek a store selling the anima tome: 'Trinity.' They made little effort to do so. Behind those windows to the world, cynical thoughts of magic and definitions of power raged and rippled within an all too cramped mind. Those eyes were distracted and unfocused, lacking the appropriate cognitive resources to do their duty. Ravvus walked, as if in a trance, entirely concerned with his innermost thoughts. To an onlooker, he might look as if he were possessed or cast under some spell.

[Ravvus Wiseau]

One foot after the other, the hot mage shuffled onward. He couldn't focus. He was supposed to be keeping an eye out for a magic shop. He looked about, taking inventory of his surroundings. Nothing. There were some taverns, some inns, a couple of houses here and there. No magic shop however, not even a healing house. The mage scritched at his head. Where was it? How long had he been walking? Since when did buying books become so difficult? Ravvus sighed and took a seat on a nearby bench.

He felt heavy. Both physically and emotionally. Like a stack of weights was pushing him down. It almost felt like the pressure placed on him by the scorched behemoth, the creature he'd maimed back in Ilia. That beast. It had very nearly killed the mage, and with little effort at that. “Trash...” The blond muttered to himself. Even now, the colossus haunted him. Maybe that's what was making him so exhausted. Every time he remembered his encounter with the scorched behemoth, Ravvus felt knots form in his stomach. Perhaps it was because of how soundly the creature had defeated him. Perhaps it was the altercation he later had with Donovan. Cheeky little mercenary. The green swordsman had decided to bare his teeth at the most inopportune of times. But it most likely wasn't either of those. No. Ravvus had a good feeling of what, specifically, continued to gnaw at his mind. And it wasn't some prideful defeat, although that did take it's toll, nor was it a confrontation with a man he barely knew. It was the death of George.

Ravvus didn't understand why. He'd seen plenty of people die before in similar circumstances. He'd seen fellow adventurers die fighting alongside him, weaklings cut down for their ineptitude, strong warriors overwhelmed and felled by numbers. Ravvus knew death well enough.. But death had never had such a profound impact on him. No one had ever sacrificed themselves for him. 'Sacrifice'. Ravvus shivered. Everything about that word made him uncomfortable. He'd never asked for the mercenary for his life. He never wanted it. Never wanted the responsibility. But the soldier-for-hire had traded his life for the mages. Elimine only knew why.

”Damnit!” The mage cursed. This was all a distraction. Ravvus needed to find Trinity. Feeling guilty over the death of an incompetent nobody was procrastination disguised as empathy. He rose from the bench and continued walking down the street. Foolishness! Incompetence! The mage's one and only fault had been lacking strength. He didn't need to feel guilty. He had no reason to feel guilty. He would have survived even without the deceased man's aid. “I would- I would have-” Ravvus caught himself muttering. The young mage growled and ground his teeth. Why wouldn't these thoughts just go away?! He shook his head violently, eliciting the gasp of a woman walking along the street next to him. He turned to her, a restrained ire in his eyes. She returned his gaze with apprehension and distrust, easing away before breaking eye contact.

The woman left, and the blond mage cast his eyes elsewhere, further down the street. Was this what this thoughts were reducing him to? A petty tyrant intimidating commoners, people who couldn't fight back. How unbecoming. How low. How-

Oh... There it was.

Ravvus could see a little store, named 'Mimi's Magic Shack', half a block away. The name sort of sounded like it could have belonged to a brothel, but the mage could spy a few anima tomes behind the shop windows. Good. He'd found what he'd been looking for. He started making his way to the store.

[Ravvus Wiseau]

Tentatively, the perturbed sorcerer stepped into the shop. The place wasn't in disrepair, but it clearly didn't have a full time staff. The wooden floorboards looked like they hadn't been swept in some time. There was a long, warped, section of the floorboard bowing upward. The windows looked like they hadn't been cleaned either. Stains, speckles of grime and other unmentionable dried fluids spotted the normally clear glass. There was only one person Ravvus could see in the shop. A woman in her early forties, presumably Mimi, stood behind a counter, which stretched to the back of the store.

She had long, black, curly hair. It looked as if she hadn't washed it in some time. Although the same could be said of most people. A purple bandana, ending with a knot just above the nape of her neck, was wrapped atop her head of messy hair. Both of hers ears were pierced, small silver balls embedded themselves in each lobe. She wore a sleeveless tunic, purple like her bandana. For a woman of such humble standing, she sure seemed to enjoy wearing the color of royalty. Her arms were folded and rested atop the counter. Her eyes, a brilliant emerald, sparkled in sharp contrast to the bored gaze she looked out into her shop with. Her facial features were plain, save two abnormalities. One was a simple beauty mark just to the left of her slightly longer than average nose. The other was a scar cutting halfway across the midsection of her neck. The skin there was lighter than the rest on her body. A hard thing not to notice.

The purple-dressed woman glanced in Ravvus' direction and immediately corrected her posture. “How can Mimi help ya, hun?” She inquired in a raspy, yet accommodating tone. 'Hun'. Ravvus grimaced, a slight twitch on the right side of his lower lip. She seemed to care little for formalities. With a flick of his wrist, Ravvus raised his left arm, and pointed at the Trinity tome at the front of the store. Ravvus' grimace had not gone unnoticed by the shopkeeper, but she called no attention to it nonetheless. “Oh, that one?” Her voice perked up, a cheeriness finding it's way in. “New tome's been getting' a lot of attention. Really flies off the shelf, that one.” The woman sauntered over to the window, her hips swaying from side to side. Ravvus could now see that she wore a belt of golden hoops on her waist. She returned promptly, with Trinity tome in hand.

“Now, I donno if you've bought one of those fire books before now, but this one here's a bit pricer than the old one.” The mage caught himself starring at the scar on the woman's neck. “-otal price is gonna run ya three hund'ed more pieces of gold than the old 'un.” Mimi stopped, noticing that Ravvus wasn't paying her any attention. She raised her left arm, which Ravvus could now see had a set of golden hoops on it as well. “Hey. Don't get fresh with me, suga', my eyes are up here.” Ravvus blinked and blushed at the same time. ”What? No. I wasn't looking at...” Even after his encounter with Minerva, such suggestions still flustered the mage. Just as he was about to correct himself, the mage realized that the truth was equally uncomfortable. Was he supposed to simply tell the shop keeper he'd been starring at her scar? Mimi, more clever than she looked, quickly caught on to what Ravvus had really been looking at. “Oh, you was lookin' at this, weren't ya?” She chuckled. Mimi raised her pointer finger and tapped the scar twice. “Haha. Yeah, real story behind that one for sure.” She paused for a moment. Ravvus was at a loss for words. Thinking about Donovan and George had really thrown him off his equilibrium. Just as the quiet was starting to become unsettling, Mimi spoke up again. “You interested in hearin' about it or somethin'?”

Ravvus came back to his senses. "Uh... no, sorry. No, not interested."

Mimi shrugged “Suit yerself.”

[Ravvus Wiseau]

The mage withdrew a sack of gold from his travel satchel. His bicep trembled under the weight of the brilliant rocks. The bag weighed more than Ravvus would have preferred. Ravvus would have to adjust his spending until he completed his next job. With a soft thud, the mage dropped the money onto Mimi's counter, garnering a smirk from the middle-aged merchant. The golden hoops on arm her jingled as she pushed the Trinity tome across the counter.

Ravvus glanced at Mimi's scar as he went to claim his new tome. He lifted the weapon with both hands, taking in the weight. It was a little heavier than his old fire tome, but not quite as heavy as the gold sack. The mage was already disappointed with his purchase. The book weighed too much. It would affect his mobility during combat. With a frustrated grunt, the sorcerer flipped the tome twice, briefly taking in both the front and back covers. Opening the tome, Ravvus poked through a number of the pages, as if to check that they contained the spells he'd been promised. Satisfied, somewhat, Ravvus closed the book and shoved it into his travel satchel. The mage looked in Mimi's direction, but avoided eye contact, as well as looking at her scar. ”Thanks.” He grunted and headed for the door. ”No problem at all, sug!” Mimi called out after him.

Ravvus left the shop, moving at a slightly heightened pace. He wanted to leave the town. Maybe so that he could practice his new magics. Maybe for some other reason. The mage wasn't sure. All he knew for certain was that something spirited him away.

The troubled sorcerer found himself in the woods, a mile or so away from the town. In his haste, the mage had exhausted himself. His breathing had quickened, exhales and inhales becoming frequent. Ravvus took a moment to catch his second wind.

With his composure regained, Ravvus withdrew the Trinity tome from his travel satchel. He now had opportunity to properly examine it. The front of the book had much the same design as his old fire tome, with some exceptions. The bright fireball, which once took up the entirety of the front cover, now covered only the upper portion. In the freed space were depictions of thunder and wind. In the left corner of the cover was an intense bolt of lightning. It had the appearance of an elongated z, but reversed. Smaller discharges of electricity surrounded the bolt. The last section was occupied by a cone of swirling wind. But the cone was bent, curving in different areas. It was like a uncontrolled tornado. Rather grandiose for a spell book of such pedestrian magic.

Ravvus opened the magical manual, and thumbed through the pages. He decided that he would first start with the thunder magics. Those would come easier to him. After some searching. Ravvus found an appropriate spell. He ran his pointer finger underneath the title of his chosen spell. “Jolt” red the title plainly. A step up from Spark, this thunder spell cast a brief, thin strand, of lightning out in an arc. An appropriate start. Ravvus flicked the wrist of his dominant hand and began reading the incantation.

[Ravvus Wiseau]

Electricity crackled about the mage's hand, making audible pops amidst the quiet air. Ravvus read from his tome in the old tongue, his words of power made themselves known to the elements. His tongue, like a dagger, leapt back and forth in it's recitations. Ravvus could feel his hand quiver as the anima lightning made itself known in the physical realm. This magic was unstable. It was not like fire magic, where the spell would merely dissipate if one's concentration was broken. No, Ravvus could tell that if he lost his focus, for even a moment, his lightning spell would combust and shards of electricity would fly in every direction. The hot-tempered mage had forgotten what a volatile substance electricity could be. Fire had been too kind a master.

Ravvus brushed such thoughts aside. It was no matter. The difference in casting conduct would not deter the aspiring mage. If anything, he welcomed the challenge. The focus he would acquire from electrical spells would later serve as a boon to his fire magic. A welcome supplement.

The mage focused the electricity into the forefront of his fingertips. Gradually, the currents surged into a focused point. It was a brilliant display of light. An erratic, yet controlled white ball of thunder and lightning. Ravvus could feel the power of his magic. With a final flick of his wrist, the mage let the electricity rush forward. In a forked arc, the Jolt spell lit up the forest, leaping towards the tree most directly in front of Ravvus. Halting abruptly, the spell struck the wooded trunk, left a blackened singe, and vanished as quickly as it had been cast.

Ravvus lowered his dominant hand. Faint trails of smoke doggedly pursued his fingertips. Such fumes were nigh ubiquitous in the small clearing. Stray crackles of lightning had struck everything close by, particularly the grass and earth. The sorcerer observed the damage done to his hand. Despite the fumes, the spell had left no burn marks on his digits. His hand was in no worse condition than before he'd cast the spell. It was a little warmer now, to be certain, but it had not been wounded. Good. If the mage couldn't handle a spell as pedestrian as 'Jolt', he could no hope of learning Fimbulvetr or reaping vengeance on the Scorched Behemoth. The hot-blooded sorcerer twitched, absentmindedly recalling the events in Ilia with Donovan. Kneading the fingers of his left hand against each other, the mage brought the Trinity tome to eye-level.

”Focus on what's in front of you...” He muttered to himself. Rereading the casting doctrine for the 'Jolt' spell, Ravvus felt confident in his understanding of the magic. He would rehearse it, perhaps, a few more times before moving onto an incantation of greater substance. The mage began his incantation, once more feeling a thin layer of heat envelop his dominant hand. A ball of lightning grew before him. Strands of lightning, neither thick nor thin, discharged from the sphere of light. This spell was not as stable as it's predecessor.

[Ravvus Wiseau]

Like a spear bent at odd angles, the spell spat forth. The lance of light crashed and crumpled against the tree. Its' head splattered off in different directions, leaving the bark of the tree shattered and curving inward. The smoldering blackness had darkened and the smell of burnt wood was all the more pungent. A spectacular effect, truly, but the conjuration had been sloppy, volatile. Ravvus could do better. The mage did not need to read from the book this time. The words he needed to recite were fresh in mind.

Placid state of mind. Crackling of electricity. Gradual build up. Blanket of warmth. Orb of lightning. Spear of light. The spell was thinner, more contained, this time. It launched into the tree and burnt a hole straight through the weakened trunk. The oak swayed lightly, its' integrity weakened. That was much better. Textbook, one might say. The spell was cast perfectly. Ravvus smiled, proud of his accomplishment.

That was enough for the lightning spell, Ravvus thought. It was time to move onto the wind spells. Ravvus thumbed through a few dozen pages of the Trinity manual. Wind. Wind. Wind. Which spell to cast? The hot-tempered mage happened upon a page containing the spell: 'Breeze'. He propped the tome open, and inspected the words within.

"Breeze: Like a fire mage's Cinder or Ember, this conjuration serves as the foundation for most wind magics. The Breeze conjuration calls forth a calm gust of wind, capable of refreshing weary folk on a hot day. The Breeze conjuration is not a spell intended for combat. Rather, it functions as a bridge between those who are not proficient in wind magic but wish to learn. It allows a non-wind user to find the right mindset and temperament necessary to master wind magic. Remember: The single most important requirement for casting wind magic is to breath. Breathing will keep you in touch with your element, in touch with the life-giving, rejuvenating powers of air. All wind magic requires a calm demeanor and a fluid alertness. Practitioners of water and ice magic will find much overlap between..." The text went on like this for some time. Ravvus cringed at the sight of it. 'Not a spell intended for combat', 'capable of refreshing weary folk on a hot day'. By Elimine, this was going to be a colossal challenge. Ravvus' eyes dully scanned further down the page. "The incantations are as follows..."

Ravvus leveled his right hand. In his other hand rested the Trinity tome. Reading the words of power for the 'Breeze' spell, the mage paused to take in the air around him. "The single most important requirement for casting wind magic is breathing." The roguish mage inhaled deeply, then exhaled. Feel the air flow through you. The easiest way to understand this element is to let it flow within your entire being. The impulsive mage continued to breath. Was he doing it right? Would this cast 'Breeze'? It had been such a long time since the mage had used wind magic. He was unsure of himself.

[Ravvus Wiseau]

Nothing. Ravvus expected his incantations to yield something. A surge of power within his right arm, the winds to gather around his hand, even the air at his back to cool. But there was nothing. Nothing but deafening silence. The mage counted his blessing that he was alone. He wouldn't want an onlooker to witness this sad failure.

He needed to do better. Needed to cast the 'Breeze' spell. He would not be satisfied with his efforts until he'd done that much. The mage tried again. He uttered the words slowly this time, emphasizing each syllable, allowing every letter a full, precise pronunciation. His mutterings reached a crescendo, becoming more and more intense as the spell neared its' climax. The mage felt an internal intensity build up as the spell came close to completion. He finished the final word, cast forth his hand, and called forth...

Nothing!

The hot-tempered mage was beginning to lose his patience. When a mage spoke the words for a spell, the spell was supposed to come forth. But this maddening Breeze spell would do no such thing. ”Maybe I'm just not breathing enough.” The sorcerer openly mocked to his crowd of emptiness. With both hands, he closed the book shut and began to pace about. Aggravated, Ravvus plopped the tome in his travel satchel and withdrew a pale stone. The mysterious rock he'd found in the desert proved to be an effective fidget. Ravvus palmed the stone, running his fingers across its' smooth surface. He needed to calm down. Becoming frustrated would only inhibit further attempts at casting 'Breeze'. The mage's fingertips pressed hard against the rock. This Wind magic was not his forte.

Ravvus shuffled about like this for some time, but to no avail. If anything, the spell-caster became more frustrated. He couldn't calm down, so he couldn't cast Breeze. His only options were to wait until he was relaxed or try conjuring the spel again. 'Breeze'. What a stupid name for a worthless spell. The mage scoffed at it. How could something so weak serve as the foundation for something so powerful? The mage mentally debated with himself.  Power is meant to give birth to power. Weakness begets weakness. One was not meant to lead to another. It didn't make any sense. Ravvus found that his teeth were grinding against each other. His whole hand was squeezed in a tight fist around his pale rock.

Enough.

Ravvus cast the stone to the earth, before turning to the burnt tree. The smell of smoke still lingered in the air. The furious conjurer's hands jerked forward. He flicked his thumbs repeatedly, calling forth small, bullet-like embers. One after another, the bits of flame collided with the tree, but to little affect. Their tiny flames could not harm the already charred wood. Ravvus' brought his hands close together, but left a small gap between them.

Enough weakness.

He called upon the power of the inferno, the flames of his old fire manual. The mage scanned each line of text in his mind, picturing each word clearly. An unstable fireball formed between his hands. Ravvus brought them apart, so that the fireball could grow to greater proportions. It grew and grew and grew until it was the size of his torso. The wrathful sorcerer turned his attention to the tree. ”Burn...” The mage cursed, dispatching the miniature sun. The engine of fury sped forth, spurting unstable tendrils as it consumed the base of the tree. In a spectacular flash of light, the ball exploded, sheering the oak clean from its' base. The great tree toppled over, cast down to the Earth by the ruinous spell. A host of splinters would have exploded in all directions, had the spell not disintegrated them.

Ravvus breathed heavily, taking measured inhales and exhales. The display brought him small comfort. It didn't even register that he'd just casted a fireball, and an impressive one at that, without consulting his magical manuals. No... The mage only had one thought on his mind.

That wasn't wind magic.

The angry mage collected his rock and started back into town.

[Ravvus Wiseau]

”Need to do better.” Ravvus muttered incoherently. ”-ecome more powerful.” His steps were sluggish and uncoordinated. ”Kill Scorched Behemoth.” Where was he going? He was going into town. But why? What answers did the town have that the forest lacked? The man was without direction, pulled by an entity not of the physical realm. A figment of the imagination perhaps? Something born of his mad pursuit of power. Yes, that was what it was. An illusory finger, which beckoned him back to town, but would not explain why.

The defeated mage planted his boot firmly in the town. From the corner of his eye, Ravvus could see a small, Etrurian boy walk past him. The child held firmly to his mother with one hand, and clamped his nose shut with the other. Ravvus craned his neck, watching the boy as he shuffled by. The mage ignored it and continued on, only to notice the other towns-people grimacing as he walked past them. Something was up. The disoriented mage leaned forward, leading with his nose, and took a whiff of the air. Something smelled like smoke. The mage patted his orange garb. Oh, of course. He brought the cloak close, taking in the scent. The scent of burnt wood from the forest lingered on it. The conceited mage briefly considered storing his garb in his travel satchel, so that's its' scent would not offend any of the towns-people. He then realized that he did not care and continued on his way.

One foot after another, the hot mage shuffled forward. He couldn't focus. He was supposed to be... He'd already done this. Already stumbled through the small town in a demoralized haze. Why was he doing it again? Ravvus' indifferent eyes fell on a familiar sight: 'Mimi's Magic Shack'. The store he'd visited only an hour ago. Confidence surged into the mage. This was where he needed to be. Why? He did not know.

Embracing the uncertainty, Ravvus pushed the glass door open. The first thing he noticed was Mimi. She was leaning forward on the desk again, blankly staring forward with a bored expression. The mage, more confident than last time, started forward, eliciting a creak from the old floorboards. The noise grabbed Mimi's attention. The woman smiled, adopting a congenial facade. ”Well hey there, stranger. What brings you back?” What indeed. Ravvus' brow furrowed in concern. In measured steps, he approached the counter. His eyes fell on Mimi's scar. ”Trinity tome not to your likin'?” The mage merely blinked in response. ”Sir?” Mimi was beginning to feel uncomfortable.

”That scar.” Ravvus broke his silence. ”Last time I was here, you mentioned there were stories behind it?” He looked up, making eye contact with a pair of uneasy, emerald mirrors. ”What are they?” The breaking of silence did little to settle the shop-owner's nerves. The smell of burnt wood probably didn't help either. ”'M sorry, sir?” The woman began, regaining her composure. ”'M sorry sir. Did you come all the way back here after an hour just so you could ask about m' scar?” Ravvus broke eye contact, mulling over her question. ”Yes” He began after a mid-length pause. ”Yes. I think I did.” He met her eyes again. ”Would you tell me?” The shop-keeper folded her arms, giving Ravvus a peculiar look. The mage looked about the shop. He could have broached this subject more tactfully. There was a vulnerary bag lying on a shelf behind Mimi. ”What if I bought something? Would you be willing to tell me the story behind your scar then?” Mimi followed his eyes, finding the vulnerary bag behind her. Mimi held her head high, showing only half of her face to the mage. ”Yeah, I s'pose.”

[Ravvus Wiseau]

A bag of coins, smaller than the one Ravvus used to pay for the Trinity tome, was lifted from his travel satchel. It hovered over the counter top briefly, before plopping down with a clink. Mimi, in turn, grabbed the bag of vulneraries behind her and put it on the counter. She slid it towards the orange mage, but he showed no interest in interacting with it. Mimi, likewise, seemed unconcerned with the bag of gold he'd placed before her. She folded her arms across one another and met the mage with suspicion. Ravvus cocked an eyebrow. ”Well?” He inquired simply.

Mimi bit her lower lip, leaning in forward slightly. ”'Bout twenty years ago, I was out on the seas. I got in a...“ The shop-keeper paused, trying to find the right words, whilst stroking her nose with a pointer finger. ”...scrap with some other folks. There was a Sacaen boy with 'em. Talented kid. Knew how ta use his sword. 'Neway, he swings this thing wildly at me. Little Easterner manages to knick me in the neck. Blood everywhere. Stains one of m' favorite outfits. Not long afterwards I lose consciousness.” The woman finished and dragged the bag of gold off the counter, before putting it into a shelf below. ”And that's how I got m' scar.”

Ravvus raised an eyebrow in disbelief. ”That's it?” He countered, bewilderment in his voice.

Mimi cocked an eyebrow right back at him. ”Whaddaya mean that's it?”

”Well. It's just” The mage interrupted himself, more than a little flustered. ”From the way you spoke earlier, I thought there would be more behind the story. You made it sound as if... as if obtaining that scar was a milestone in your life.” Ravvus frowned. ”Yes, as I recall, you said there were 'a lot of stories behind that one'.” The mage wagged a finger, attempting to mimic the woman's voice and mannerisms.

The shop-keeper responded with a stink eye, hardly amused by the display. ”Well...” Mimi countered. ”Maybe if ya buy another somethin' in m' shop, I'll be inclined to talk about it further.” The woman's suggestion ended in an upward inflection, goading the mage into providing her with further patronage. But Ravvus was not a man of enough patience, or coin, to haggle with Mimi.

”No deal.” The hot-head countered almost immediately. ”I was interested in learning how you obtained your wound, but if you're intention is to bleed me of the little coin I have, then we have nothing else to discuss.” As if to punctuate his statement, the mage pivoted on his foot and headed for the door. ”Good day.” His hand lightly pushed the glass door open.

”Hol' up.” Mimi called after him, a tinge of sobriety in her voice. Ravvus turned around to meet the shop-keeper. She looked down at her counter, her long hair drooped and curled into several purple pools on the wooden surface. The woman beckoned him back with a hoop-layered arm. ”Can't blame a shop-keep fer hecklin', can ya?” Mimi smiled, motioning for Ravvus to take a seat. ”Go-on an' git comfertable. This might take a while.”

[Ravvus Wiseau]

The mage, tentatively, walked back into the shop. Ravvus pulled a chair, from the entrance, with him. He placed it in front of counter and took a seat. Mimi waited for him to be comfortable. ”Now izit the whole life story you wan' or just the one behind the scar?” The woman's raised her left arm to support her waning head. ”Cuz they're more than a little innertwined.”

”Both, if possible” Ravvus responded plainly.

A smile, a worn smile, the smile of a woman who'd not been allowed to indulge herself for quite some time, broke out across Mimi's cool and distant face. "Well..." Her voice trailed off. A quirk of hers Ravvus was beginning to pick up on. ”I was born ta a... well, a woman who had no business bearing children. Never knew pop. Ol' man was allegedly an Ilian merc.” That explained the purple hair. ”Walked out on ma' when she told him he'd knocked her up which...” Mimi raised a finger thoughtfully. ” Was 'prolly fer the best. Anyone ma' took a likin' ta romantically probably didn't have any more business raisin' children than she did. Ma' drank. More than a little. She'd throw tantrums. Rail on me with her fists an' words. The whole thing got ol' pretty fast.”

A light chuckle escaped Ravvus, eliciting an unfriendly glare from Mimi. ”Somethin' funny about a mom beatin' up her little girl to ya'?” Her words were accusatory, but her tone detached. Ravvus waved his hand, attempting to disarm the situation. ”Just reminds me of my dad is all. Only difference is he'd throw his punches sober.” The shop-keeper flashed Ravvus a smirk. ”Well... If that ain't a stroke of coincidence.”

”'Neway” She continued with a snort. ”It grew ol' pretty fast. By the time I was fifteen, I figgered I'd had enough. Ran away.” This story was starting to sound awfully familiar. ”M' fingers were pretty nimble. An' I was even cuter back then, so getting' money an' food was never much of a pro'lem. ” Mimi winked at the mage. He shivered. She frowned. ”Did that fer a while. Met some interestin' types. Made friends with some uh...” A mischievous smile made its' way across Mimi's face. ”Well, let's be nice an' just call 'em delinquents.”

”An'... eventually I found the sea.” Mimi's eyes glowed. She looked out into the expanse of the shop. Rather than seeing dusty floorboards and low-budget medicines, she saw a road. A fluid road, made of water and salt. To most, a road was just a means of moving between destinations. Generally, home was at one end of the road. But to Mimi, the road was home. Upon the sea-road, upon the home of merchants, pirates, and aquatic creatures, was where she was most comfortable. ”Those delinquents I mentioned. Well, they just so happened to stick to the waters. I joined up with 'em.”

”These delinquents wouldn't happen to be pirates, would they?” Ravvus interrupted tentatively. ”Because they sort of sound like pirates.”

Mimi cast him an aloof, yet playful look. ”I thought I said ta be nice. An'” The ex-pirate unfolded her arms, placing her open palms on the counter top. ”Don't interrupt me, suga'. As I recall you were the one who wanted to hear this story.” Ravvus nodded sheepishly in response. "Now, where was I?"

[Ravvus Wiseau]

”Thank ya. 'Neway. I joined up wit' a crew of delinquents for a while. There were four of us who stuck together through the most of it. There was Craig. Funny guy, Craig. Bit on the tubbier side. Charmer. Liked to wear a bandana. Personally, I think it was because he was self-conscious 'bout his hair. Mop on his head never looked good when he didn't wash it. An' he never washed it. Knew how to play the lute, knew the right song for the right situation. Knew... knew how ta lighten the mood, ya know?” Mimi pointed at Ravvus in a faux questioning manner. ”Darcy Fairbanks was a part of that crew too. Heh heh.” Mimi chuckled to herself. ”Fairbanks, if that ain't the name of a sailor, huh? Ha ha!” The shop-keeper's body trembled in mirth. ”She was a slender girl, like me. Didn't wear a bandana, like Craig. Darcy prefered to wear a buccaneer's hat. Think deep down she wanted ta be her own captain. Good navigator, though. Best, If I ever knew one. Never got lost when that girl was guiding us.“

Mimi's laughter died down. ”There was one other fella who traveled with us.” Mimi looked off to the side. ”Fella named Griff. Big guy. Meanest or sweetest S.O.B. ya ever met. Depended on which side of the plank ya stood.” Mimi's voice grew softer, fonder really, as she described the former crew member. ”He had long hair, not like mine. Long like, well...” Mimi placed a finger on her lip, trying to find the right words. ”Like a lion's, I guess. Man was workin' with a real mane. Long, dark blue hair. Full in the front an' in the back. His locks flowed kinda majestically when the salty wind blew. Griff was with me from almost the beginning. Yeah... ” The middle-aged woman sighed almost melancholically. ”Good man, that Griff.”

Mimi blushed, flustered by her swooning. Right, uh... 'neway. Ravvus smiled. ”It was the four of us out on the open seas fer a while. Well, not initially. It started as me an' Griff. Griff knew Darcy and she helped us join up with the first crew. Craig we picked up after raiding, erm, boarding another ship. We took him on as an uh... dang, what's the word them fancy types use?”

”Slave? The viceroys in the Western Isles tend to call them slaves.” The mage couldn't help but smirk.

The shop-keeper cast him an unamused glare. There was no playfulness in her eyes this time. ”Three strikes, kid.” Mimi kept her eyes trained on Ravvus, using time and silence to allow her warning to settle in. 'Neway” This woman said 'neway almost as much as she paused after saying 'well'. A go-to transition, Ravvus noticed. ”O! That's it! Indentured servant! That's the word they like ta use. We took Craig on as an indentured servant. Fella was just so charmin' that he worked his way into the main crew after a coupla months. So yeah, that was how the four of us got together. Craig, Griff, Darcy, an' Mimi. The Rogue Baymen crew sailin' aboard the Salty Strumpet, An' I swear ta Elimine herself if ya' say single word about that soundin' like the name of a pirate's ship, or a pirate crew, so help me I will tar and feather ya'. Ya' got that ya'- ya'-” A stupified look spread across Mimi's face. Her cheeks filled with redness in embarassment. ”Saint's name. I never got yer name. The hell's yer name, blondie?”

[Ravvus Wiseau]

”Ravvus, ma- ma'am.” The mage stuttered, taken off-guard by the botched pre-emptive reprimand.

”Ravvus? The hell kinda name izat?

”It's my name.” The mage responded assertively, more than a little ticked off by her tactless prodding.

”Right. Ain't no kinda name I've ever heard of her.” It was Ravvus' turn to stare down Mimi. Her increasingly impudent behavior was enough to warrant a pushback on his part. The mage furrowed his brow and narrowed his eyes, making his displeasure evident. Mimi merely shrugged him off. ”'Neway” She snorted. ”Where was I? Right. So that was us sailin'. The Rogue Baymen. The crew was made up mostly of turncoat fishermen, hence the name. There were oddballs here and there, though. Darcy and Griff, folks who'd been at the job fer a lot longer than everyone else. Craig, too. Craig mighta been the oddest ball, all things considered. Only man I've ever seen get himself out of slav- erm, indentured servitude, that is, without a big bag o' money. I m'self wasn't such an oddball. The bigger half of the crew was made up of inexperienced folks like me, so I fit in pretty well. We targeted merchant ships for the most part. We'd board 'em. Borrow a lotta their stuff.” It was all Ravvus could to do to keep himself from dryly asking 'You mean steal?'

Mimi went on with her long-winded backstory. ”Try not to leave 'em with nothin'. That'd just be mean. An' eventually we came across this one crew. Bluebeards they called 'emselves. 'Parrently they were lead up by a noble-boy from the Western Isles. An' I do mean ta say boy. Self-entitled brat couldn't of been more than twenty. He got tired of the cushy life of luxury and resorted ta piracy. An' that boy most certainly was a pirate. ” Mimi's eyes looked distant as she spoke. Something about the Bluebeard Captain triggered an unpleasant memory for her.

”Little prick made a name fer himself in just... a real cruel, cruel way.” Mimi shook her head. 'Neway, The Rogue Baymen an' I figgered we'd give him a wakeup call. Show him he didn't own the seas. Mimi flashed a frown. ”We boarded his vessel an' found out just how cruel he was.”

”Kids.” Mimi spoke, stroking the side of her nose with a slender finger.

”Come again?”

”We raided the vessel in two parties. One fer attackin' the crew, 'nother fer raidin' the booty. Erm, That is another fer borrowin' their-” The shop-keeper rolled her eyes at her own censorship. ”Aw ta' hell with it, another fer raidin' the booty.” Ravvus stifled a chuckle. ”We got ta' the hold an' found kids. Can you believe that?” Disbelief crept into Mimi's voice. ”I mean, I've experienced  and seen some awful things in my life. I've seen a man lose half his fingers fer stealin' some bread. I'd seen another fella' git his foot amputated by hammer. Can you imagine that? Now that's bloody disgustin'.” The shop-keeper's mouth contorted into a frown, her friendly eyes sullen. ”I lived with an abusive mom... But seein' kids sold like livestock. There's a whole 'nother level of evil I just hadn't imagined."

[Ravvus Wiseau]

”'Neway. I wasted no time in getting' those kids out of their shackles. I remember runnin' up ta' one of 'em an' sayin'. 'Your safe now! Don't worry, the Rogue Baymen'll get you outta here!' Musta broken half my lockpicks freein' those kids.” Mimi sighed with a shrug. ”So, I git all these kids free an' tell 'em to follow me. And we git to the door in the hold and it bursts open with three members of Bluebeard's crew!” The shop-keeper hunched over the table, waving her hands frantically as she framed the narrative. ”Now I only remember what one 'em looked like. The others weren't too distinctive. Looked like run-of-the-mill bilgerats, y'know? But the guy leadin' em was this Sacaen, carryin' a wicked blade. Now I didn't know how a Sacaen started workin' with a buncha Etrurians and Islanders, but I knew him being there meant nothin' good. Them stories you hear about Sacaen swordmasters are true. Those fella turn bladework into an artform. And this guy was no exception.”

”So they break formation. I go screamin' 'Ya ain't takin' these kids'.' The two bilgerats go after my mates, the Sacaen comes after me. He comes up in this slow advance, twirlin' and spinnin' and flipin' his sword every which way. Trying to distract me with all his fancy bladework, ya know?” Ravvus nodded. He'd dealt with something similar recently in the form of the Killuans. ”But I ain't fallin' for it. No sir. No trickin' Mimi. So I rush in low!” The shop-keeper, leaning closer, slammed her hands on the counter. ”Get in close, while he's in the middle of one of those twirls. I spring up, like a rabbit, and shove my dagger at him. He's off-guard, hops back. I'm off balance after missing my attack. So we both need a second to reset. He rushes back in and takes a swing at me. I lean back, see his blade slash at the air in fronta my eyes. I take a swing at him, he parries with his sword and manages a graze on me.” Mimi leapt back, becoming increasingly animated in her story-telling.

”We both jump back. Reset.”

I'm keepin' my distance this time, waiting for him to come in. He comes at me with a swing. I parry this time. He spins about, bring his sword behind his body and swattin' at my other side. Parry again, push back this time, throw him off balance. I come in from the right, swing my dagger at him. He drops down, I'm off balance. He swings at me again. I stumble outta the way and take another graze. I'm bleedin' from two places now. He ain't even breakin' a sweat. Mimi's eyes widened in excitement. ”We reset. I take a swing at the left and he parries me. Takes another nick off me. I'm bleedin' from one arm, a leg, and my shoulder at this point.I don't even know what's going on with my mates and the bilgerats. Things ain't lookin' good.”

[Ravvus Wiseau]

The shop-keeper put a hand thoughtfully by her forehead. ”So I says to myself: 'Mimi, this guys just gonna kill you with bug bites. You gotta finish this soon or it's over. And if you die and let those kids get captured, I ain't gonna fergive you.” Mimi brought her hands out, setting the stage one more time. ”So we reset. I'm lookin' him over. Tryna find somethin' I can exploit, somethin' I can use to beat this fancy dancer! And I think about both times he's parried me so far. Figure maybe, if I feint from the left, I can spin around, like he did, and hit him from the other side. So I give it a shot.” She breathed in deep. ”I fill my gut with air, tryna ignore the sweat in my eyes and the cuts on my body. I leap in close and swing my knife in an arc. He goes to parry. I got him. I stop. I spin around and...” Mimi shook her head.

”His blade is in the other hand. Little mother tossed his sword from one hand to the other. He was ambiva-, ambiguo- um... He could fight with both hands. 'Neway, he blocks me with no effort, brings the blade back, sticks it in my neck.”

"He stabbed you in the neck?" Ravvus blinked several times. "How in the Saint's name did you survive that?"

”Lemme get there, hun. So, he got me. I'm out. Down fer the count. Deader than a plague victim. And, uh..." Mimi chuckled. " 's true what they say. 'Bout your life flashin' before your eyes. I could see everythin' that happened durin' my life. From my mom jumpin' up and down on me when I was fourteen, to the first time I stole an apple without bein' noticed, and all the times Griff and I-” Mimi stopped abruptly, her face taking on a shade of pink. ”uh, all the time we spent together.”

”Nothing to be embarrassed about.” Ravvus reassured, still bewildered that Mimi had survived being stabbed in the neck.

”I guess so.” She chuckled. ”Look at me. I'm almost forty and I still get flustered talkin' about that stuff.”

”'Neway. I saw everythin'. Right up to raidin' the Bluebeard ship and findin' those kids. And I take a few of those moments and think. 'This ain't how I go out. I ain't gonna just let this Sacaen kill me so he can sell these kids to some heartless islander, or worse.'”

Mimi's left hand shot out, grabbing an invisible arm. ”I lock with him, feelin' the blood leavin' my body. I come in with my dagger hand and get him right in his wrist. He yelps in pain, lettin' go of his sword. I bring him closer and he smacks me across the face. I'm a cornered momma bear protectin' her cubs. I barely feel it. I get him in the leg, then the shoulder, then the neck. One in each place he got me. All this time he's railin' on my wounded shoulder, trying ta' get me off him. Once I get him in the neck, I'm done. I let him go. He falls down with the most pissed, most disbelievin' look I ever seen. I fall with him. I'm losin' a lot of feelin' at this point, feelin' faint you know.”

Tap. Tap. Tap. Mimi's finger beat the counter top. ”And I start ta' realize this is it, man. I'm really done. Enda the road. You know, it's starts ta' hit me that I'm actually dyin'.”

[Ravvus Wiseau]

”And as I'm lyin' there, I see Griff come in. He drops his axe, rushes over to me, screams bloody murder for a medic. So I look at him.” Mimi waved her hand to the left. ”And then I look at the kids.” And then to the right. ”And as Griff cradles my red body in his arms, I think about him and the kids. I think about where I started in life. In abusive house with a mom who never wanted to have me. A mom who prolly woulda sold me for drink money if she ever got the chance. And I think about where I am now. Being cradled by a man I love. Bleedin' like a pig because I didn't want a couple of kids to have the kinda childhood I had. And I look Griff in the eyes, these big, fear stricken puppy dog eyes, and I feel a sense of calm. Like my body's tellin' me: 's ok. This ain't a bad way ta' go Mimi. You did good. You can rest now.' And I close my eyes. And it was like I fell asleep.”

”I mean- I woke up later. Crew managed to force feed me an elixir, which took care of everythin'.” The shop-keeper interjected, all but ruining her own dramatic effect. ”But that was how I felt in the moment. Like I was ready ta' go. Pretty amazin' don't ya think?”

”Amazing indeed.” Ravvus concurred. ”Even more amazing that you lived to talk about it.”

”Yeah.” Mimi chuckled. ”So that's the long and short of how I got the scar. Real story behind it, like I said right?”

Ravvus nodded. ”This may come off as an odd question, so pardon me if I phrase it poorly. The way you felt after beating the Sacaen. Have there been any other times you've felt that sense of peace and... serenity?”

Leaning on her elbow, Mimi held her cheek in one hand. ”Hmm. I think so. Maybe not that extreme, but I think so. Why do you ask?”

”It just sounds like it'd be useful for learning wind magic.” Ravvus withdrew his trinity tome and thumbed his way to the page for 'Breeze'. ”The way a person feels can amplify or nullify one's ability in casting elemental magics. My hot temper has made it almost impossible for me to utilize the wind spells in here. I figure if I can tap into that kind of serenity, I'll have a chance at using wind magic.”

”Hmm.” Mimi grunted. ”Well I don't know how much I'd be able ta' help you there, hun. Those are feelin's you'll have to discover yourself. Find your own causes that put you at peace. Just, you know, try to find one's less life threatening than the kind I found.”

Ravvus shook his head. ”Maybe. If I have to get stuck in my throat just so I can use wind magic, then so be it.”

Mimi grimaced. ”Awfully passionate 'bout learnin' this wind magic stuff, aren't you?”

”Yeah”. Ravvus snicked. ”Awfully passionate is a good way to put it.”

Mimi shrugged. ”Well, fer what it's worth, I hope you don't have to risk dyin' just so you can learn somethin' new.”

”I appreciate that Mimi.” A silence fell upon the conversation. Neither person really had much more to say. ”Well, this has been a pleasure. But I'd better get moving out.”

”Sure thing, hun. Stop by again some time and I'll spin you another one of my yarns.”

”Will it come at the price of some of your merchandise?”

”Naw, naw. This one'll be on the house.” Mimi chuckled. ”Well...” Her eyes narrowed. ”Maybe.”

Ravvus smiled. ”It's been a pleasure, Mimi.”

”Likewise.”

With that, the mage swiveled on his heel and left the shop. Ravvus exited the shop to feel the winds picking up. A light rainfall splattered the muddy ground in uneven drops. ”Looks like a storm's coming.” Ravvus muttered and renewed his journey to the Pathfinders.

(End Thread)