Content Warning!
This story contains instances, descriptions, and frank discussions of: depression, personality disorders, and other mental health issues; suicidal thoughts and suicide attempts; child abuse and neglect; graphic violence, war crimes, and institutional/systemic violence; gender dysphoria, body dysmorphia, and transphobia. Reader discretion is advised.
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Inside. June, 2001.
An elf, a dwarf, a half-giant, and a ninja walk into a dark tavern in the middle of the night. The dwarf drinks ale, and the rest drink water. Around a single lamp, the elf speaks of magic and metaphysics, but the others are far too exhausted to pay much attention - except for the dwarf, who is happy to have his ale and asks way too many questions.
The four are tired because they have had a long day: between them, they have spoken with a prophet, killed bandits and monstrous creatures in the woods, matched wits with a magic mirror, been betrayed by their erstwhile allies, slain a nest of goblins, explored ancient ruins, and dispatched a rogue necromancer, all while fending off immortal assassins who are after their souls. But on the bright side, most of the people they have run into think they are demigods, which buys them a measure of goodwill and forbearance - and fortunately so, because the dwarf and the ninja were more or less literally born yesterday.
The elf is a mystic, and has Seen the others do all these things - though she was not a part of their doing, for she has spent the last several weeks locked up in a cavern with only the crazed necromancer for company. Accordingly, all she really wants right now is a long, hot shower.
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