Word: Doctrinaire

 

doctrinaire

[ dok-truh-nair ]

noun

1. a person who tries to apply some doctrine or theory without sufficient regard for practical considerations; an impractical theorist.

   adjective

   1. dogmatic about others' acceptance of one's ideas; fanatical:

      a doctrinaire preacher.

   2. merely theoretical; impractical.
   3. of, relating to, or characteristic of a doctrinaire.

    ************************************

The party was missing just one person. They had gathered someone to fill every role a good adventuring party could ever need. All except the most important one: the healer. The party leader, Wilhelm, had put in a request for one, and someone had answered. Now Wilhelm was waiting in the guild lobby for the person to arrive. 

He saw many a person come and go, many dressed in robes that would indicate a magic user. But none approached him. Until a young man dressed in a priest’s raiment's entered. Wilhelm hoped this wasn’t the one who accepted. He did not want to deal with church dogma on a regular basis. 

And so it was with a heavy sigh that he saw the priest approach. “Greetings, Sir Wilhelm, I am Brother Arnet, from the church of Aldetra.” the young priest said with a slight bow. 

“First of all, I’m not a knight, so none of that ‘sir’ business. Second, I don’t care which church you belong to, so long as you can heal the party in a battle.” 

Arnet’s eye twitched, but he kept a slight smile on his face. “Of course. I am well trained in the healing and defensive arts. Aldetra does teach--” 

“Don’t care. You got healing magic and defensive magic. That’s good. You got any buffs?” 

“I do, yes. The full range of them.” 

“Good enough for me. Now, one more thing. We’re a party that doesn’t care about religion. I get that you need to pray and do a bunch of ritual stuff, and that’s fine. But keep it to yourself.” 

“I’m sorry, what? You don’t want to hear of the light of Aldetra?” 

“Nope. Only other guy in our party who’s even remotely religious is our mage, and he only pays basic lip service to, what’s the magic god’s name?” 

“Ah, that would be Kevri.” 

“Right, that one. Other than that, we don’t care. So you do what you need to. Just don’t involve the rest of us.” 

“But becoming part of Aldetra’s church can bring you so many benefits. I’d be happy to--” 

“Hard pass.” 

Arnet’s mouth opened and closed several times. He took a deep breath before saying anything. 

“You have a problem with Aldetra and her church?” 

“With the goddess and her church? No. I don’t have any problems with any churches. It’s the people that I have a problem with.” 

“I don’t...what?” 

“The way I see it, the gods do their thing. Keep the world running and all that. Fine.  Good. That’s their job and from what I can tell, they do a pretty good job of it. The churches? They’re buildings. Some are nice. Some aren’t. I don’t have a beef with architecture. But the people? Now those can be a problem. Some are fine. Hell, most are okay folk. But others? There are those who make the whole thing stink. Corruption. Fanatic adherence to dogma. And a lot of acting like you know better about damn near everything. And that’s even before all the pandering and sweet talking, trying to lure people into your little god club. And don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about. You absolutely do. I’m willing to be a gold piece that you had a dozen speeches ready to convert the entire party.” 

“I...that’s...”  

“So yeah, if you really want to go out into the world, fight evil and keep me and mine alive, then good. Keep your prayers to yourself and we won’t have a problem. But if your only goal was to get new members for your flock, then get out of here. There’s plenty of healers out there that don’t give a damn about the gods.” 

Much to Wilhelm’s surprise, Arnet did not leave. In fact, the young priest sat across from him.  

“Part of my goal in becoming an adventurer is indeed to spread the word of my goddess. But it’s also to protect people and preserve the life of the innocent. Your words might be borderline heretical, but as long as my goals are fulfilled, then the people I work with are irrelevant. I don’t think we’ll ever like each other, Mr. Wilhelm. But we don’t need to like each other to fight together, do we?” 

“No. No we don’t. It helps. But it’s not necessary. Welcome to the team, Arnet. Let’s see how long you last.”  

**********************************

I do a lot of adventuring party formation stories, don't I? Think that says something about my state of mind? I'm sure some psychologist out there could say a few things. Well, as long as the stories are at least okay, I'm fine with whatever my choices of story subject say about me.

Word: Tabula Rasa

 

tabula rasa

[ tab-yuh-luh rah-suh, -zuh, rey-; Latin tah-boo-lah rah-sah ]

noun

plural tabulae rasae [tab, -y, uh, -lee , rah, -see, -zee, rey, -, tah, -b, oo, -lahy , rah, -sahy].

1. a mind not yet affected by experiences, impressions, etc.
2. anything existing undisturbed in its original pure state.

***********************************

Kyle went through his drawers, examining his clothes. Some he put into one of several large suitcases, while others he tossed into an ever-growing pile. This was only the first of many areas around his room that he would be doing this to. The pile would be donated to some charity, while the suitcases would be going with him. 

As he went through the process of uprooting his entire life, he heard a knock on the door. Before he could say anything, his older sister, Amy, entered.  

“You know I didn’t say it was okay to come in. What if I was changing?” Kyle said. 

“Given what you’ve been doing in here for the last several hours, we both know there wasn’t a danger of that.” 

“Fair enough. What do you want?” 

Amy sat on the bed and looked at the pile of clothes slated for the donation bin. “You don’t need to do this, you know. You have a perfectly good life right here.” 

Kyle stopped sorting and loosed at his sister. “Yeah, I know. That’s the problem. That’s why I’m doing this.” 

“Yeah, I still don’t get it. I’ve thought about it since you said you were moving, and I still don’t get it. Why are you doing this, Kyle? Why are you leaving us?” 

“Because I need to. Because if I stay here, being in this family will just smother me. I need place where I can be me. Where I can life without being told what a wonderful family I have.” 

“What’s so bad about having a good family? Not everyone has that, you know.” 

He sighed and joined his sister on the bed, sitting almost a foot away from her. He closed his eyes and leaned back, collecting his thoughts before saying anything else. 

“Amy, when I was in high school, do you know how many teachers talked about you?” 

“How many?” 

“All of them. Every single one. And whenever I did anything, they always spoke about how I was definitely your brother. How you were rubbing off on me. Nothing I did was ever really mine. It was always because of you. Your influence. Your help. You just being you.” 

“I didn’t--” 

“I’m not finished yet.” Kyle said, cutting Amy off. “Would you say I have a pretty good job?” 

“Of course. Way better than most people our age.” 

“Do you know how I got my job?” 

“Oh sure. Because Dad...ah.” 

“Mm-hm. I didn’t get hired because I was the best choice. I got hired because Dad pulled some strings. The only time in my life when I could stand on my own two feet and not be compared to another member of this family was in college.” 

“So that’s why you went to that little nowhere school instead of an ivy league like Mom and Dad?” 

“Exactly. Sure, I would’ve gotten a better education, no question. But I would’ve been a legacy. Mom or Dad’s son. Not me. I need to go to a place where I can stand on my own merit instead of you, Mom or Dad’s. I need a place where I’m a blank slate. Where nobody knows me. Otherwise, I’ll never escape the very long shadows you three cast.” 

“I...I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were going through that.” 

“Yeah, I know. I know you three want what’s best for me. Or at least what you think is best. And who knows, maybe moving across the country is a terribly idea and I’m just setting myself up for failure. At least it’ll be my failure. At least it’ll be something I did on my own without the influence of any family. And that’s more than I’ll ever get here.”  

Amy leaned forward, resting her forearms on her knees. “I’m not sure I understand, not fully anyway. But I at least get it a little more now. I guess that’s all that any of us can hope for, huh? Since you think this way, I’ll help you out as much as I can. Or, well, as much as you’ll accept.” 

“I appreciate that. Even just getting Mom and Dad off my back about this would be more than enough.” 

“Yeah, I can do that.” The two siblings sat there in silence for a moment before the elder spoke again. “You will keep in contact, right?” 

“Of course. I’m not planning on cutting contact. I just need to stand on my own merit instead of everyone else’s.”  

Amy stood, faced her brother, and held out a hand. “Well then my dear little brother, I wish you all the best in your quest for a blank slate of a life.” 

Kyle grinned and accepted the offered hand. “I’ll do my best. Whatever my best may be.”

*************************************************

Well, Happy New Year, everyone. Did you have a nice time? Did you manage to stay up for the big moment? Now, let's all hope that this year will be better than the last.

Word: Frolic

 

frolic

[ frol-ik ]

noun

1. merry play; merriment; gaiety; fun.
2. a merrymaking or party.
3. playful behavior or action; prank.

 **********************

The party was in danger. The host knew it almost as soon as it started. There were too many conflicts. Too many opinions and everyone wanting to share theirs. And several with no problems telling those people why their opinions were wrong. Even with the good food and good music, the people were causing everything to collapse. 

There was only one thing he could do. One emergency measure the host had with which to salvage the party. He looked around and found the object he needed. It was a small thing. Something that most people would think was just garbage. And yet it was the key to saving the day. 

He went to his closed bedroom door and opened it wide. Then he dropped the item he had retrieved. The crumpled-up piece of paper hit the ground. Nobody even noticed it happen, wrapped up in their own arguments as they were. 

Something emerged from the room. It was small, orange, and furry. A tiny orange tabby kitten. The little animal sniffed at the paper for a moment, then started batting it around. Slowly at first, then with greater energy. He swatted the makeshift toy around, slowly making his way towards the party guests. A moment later, another kitten emerged. An even smaller black kitten that seemed nervous as she sniffed the doorframe. 

The orange kitten pawed at the toy, his black sibling caught sight of it. It was not long before the two kittens were batting the paper around each other and jumping around, and even on top of, each other. They played without a care in the world, rolling around and swatting at each other with the enthusiasm only kittens could muster. 

It was not long before one of the guests caught sight of the animals. She gasped and squealed with joy at the sight. And then a chain reaction occurred. Every single party guest soon forgot what they were arguing about. They were all too enraptured by the playing kittens. 

The orange boy soon disengaged with his sister and went to check out his new admirers. He poked and sniffed the humans, who went wild about it. They extended fingers for the kitten to sniff. The little black kitten soon joined her brother, but moving in a different direction. Both kittens seemed to delight in the new sensations and the attention brought on by the new people. They rolled around, pawing at fingers that were waved in front of them. Fluffy kitten tummies, chins and heads were petted and rubbed. Both human and feline were having a grand time. 

The host let out a sigh of relief. The party was saved. At least for now. Eventually the kittens would grow tired and need to take a nap. And once that happened, all bets were off. Sure the residual joy of playing with kittens would keep everything upbeat and cheerful for a while, but for how long was anyone’s guess. He would just have to hope that the universal truth of kitten playfulness would be able to last the rest of the night.

**********************************

Kittens make everything better. I have yet to encounter a situation that would not be vastly improved by the presence of one or more kittens. I dare anyone to come up with such a situation.

Word: Argent

 

argent

¹

[ ahr-juhnt ]

noun

1. Heraldry. the tincture or metal silver.
2. Archaic.
   1. silver.
   2. something silvery or white.
3. Obsolete. money.

 

**********************************************

Will stared out at the door. He knew he should probably be doing something. Something related to his job. But there was nothing. All the shelves were stocked and cleaned. The money drawer was well tended to, and the amounts had been checked over several times. Really, there was nothing to do. Which meant all he could do was let his mind wander. 

That was when the door flew open. A man in armor burst into the small shop. He was covered in sweat, dirt and blood. Will wondered how much was his. The armored man made a bee line for the counter. 

“You, shop keep, I need something silver. Quickly!” 

“Uh...silver? I don’t know if--” 

“It doesn’t matter what it is, as long as it’s silver!” The man looked over his shoulder at the open door. Outside was cloudy, with a faint haze spreading over the streets.  

“Okay, let me see what we have.” Will said, looking over the contents of the store. 

It was a bunch of knickknacks and oddities. Things that other people had sold for a quick coin. Most of it was junk. Will at least looked, trying to find the telltale look of silver. 

 

He eventually settled on a game board. It was a fancy thing, the kind that nobles would use. It had been sold by a nobleman whose estate was not doing well, but the important part was the pieces were made of gold and silver. Or at least, they looked like they were. 

Will took the game set and placed it on the counter. He opened his mouth to give his sales speech, but the man grabbed one of the silver pieces. He hefted it, turned it over in his armored hand, then clicked his tongue. 

“Fake. I need real silver, lad. Now!” 

“I...I don’t...I don’t know if we have anything else that’s real silver. That was closest thing I know of we have.” 

“Damn it!” 

“Feel free to look around. Maybe you’ll find something I missed? I don’t know everything in the store.” 

The man cast his gaze around the store. He hurriedly looked around the shelves, ignoring anything that was not made of metal. He suddenly paused and looked closer at a small ring. A ring that, to Will, did not seem to be made of silver. But the armored man picked it up and turned it over. 

“Electrum.” The man said. “Half silver, but it’s better than nothing. Hopefully it’ll be enough.” The man reached into his pocket and pulled out a large gold coin. He flipped it to Will, who fumbled with the money. 

“Uh, excuse me, but this is too much.” 

“Doesn’t matter. Keep the change.” The armored man said. He was already rushing towards the door. 

Will watched the man go, rolling the coin between his fingers. It was worth more than the store made in a year. If the man could throw around that kind of money without a second thought, maybe Will was in the wrong line of work. Adventurers seemed to make a lot of money, if the one that just left was anything to go by. But then again, considering the man’s rush and state of cleanliness, he had to wonder if it was worth it. Maybe Will was better off staying right where he was, where he did not run into monsters on a daily basis.     ********************************

Call me crazy, but any job that involves fighting werewolves, vampires or other silver vulnerable monsters is something I want to stay well away from.