Writing Drabbles: A Cry In The Darkness

For about six years, my husband and I ran a Tabletop streaming channel on Twitch. Our flagship show, Disasters 'n Danger, was a high fantasy D&D5E saga that spanned several seasons and helped us bring countless characters and adventures to life. Occasionally, we players would expand on our own lore by writing in-world letters, short stories, and more.

While that channel and its accompanying shows shut down in mid-2024, I don't want to lose the tales I told around that table. Some stories I hope to expand into fully-fledged novels or even explore other media with them, like webcomics one day. But, for now, I want to share them with all of you one bit at a time. And, hopefully, you'll let me know what pieces spark your interest most. I look forward to your comments and feedback, and hope you find yourself curious to learn more about these characters and their adventures one day. I know I'm certainly not ready to leave them behind yet.

A Cry in the Darkness

Evon lay on the dungeon floor, life coming back to her one agonizing gasp at a time.  She heard nothing, and thought for a moment that the explosion had deafened her.  And then, she realized there was simply nothing to hear.  No flames from the elementals, no footsteps … no breathing from her friends.

As carefully and quietly as she could, Evon began to shift until she could reach into her bag, careful not to let her movements summon the monsters back to her.  She retrieved the the two scrolls of sending from the depths of her pack, and wrote quickly. The first letter was addressed to the inn, where most of the company were staying.  It was simple.  A desperate plea for help, and a location of where they had fallen.  She drew a map as best she could, and the ink faded away as soon as she’d written it.  She could only pray that they received it, and could muster a search party before something less forgiving found her group.

The second was intended for the Crow King.

There is a chance that I find myself, unfortunately, unable to complete my end of the bargain. It seems I have gotten in too far over my head in my search for the Chronometer, and may have sacrificed not only my friends but myself in the process. Should I not survive, as currently seems likely, I would ask you to consider freeing Savinaus from his bond to you. He should be free to seek a new life, and not beholden to a dead girl better off forgotten. A girl who couldn’t even save herself, let alone those she loved. 

I was so looking forward to our partnership, sir. Give Mother my love, when you do eventually find her. You both deserved a better champion than me.

Once again, the ink faded, leaving her with two ordinary, spent scrolls. Sure now that the fire elementals were not returning, Evon crawled to her knees and began to pull her friends out, into a safe corner of an empty dungeon.  All three were past saving, with two charred beyond recognition. Still, she gathered their bodies around her and sat, waiting. Refusing to leave them behind. She’d made a promise, and she intended to keep it with her dying breath. She would not return to Armistice without her sister. And she would not emerge the lone survivor to face the rest of her companions. She would die here, guarding their bodies with everything she had left.

Evon had no idea how much time passed. Her mind was racing, her body wracked with emotions, one after the other like gunshot. It was her fault for bringing them here. Her fault for letting them come at all, getting them wrapped up in her family problems. She was at war with her own mind, knowing for certain they had chosen to come, and still unable to forgive herself. All throughout her borrowed time as she waited for death, Evon apologized to friends who could no longer hear her.

And then, a new thought punctated the darkness, like a sword splitting hide: she didn’t need to feel guilt, or pain. If she got out of here at all, she knew who to blame. That one thought started to sustain her, burning brighter than the flame of rebellion that Akhan so praised in all of them. She knew whose fault this was. A monster who traded in children and twisted urges. A coward who wouldn’t show his own face. The man who’d put such an exorbitant price on one simple clock, and unreasonably insisted that this was the only way to get it quickly.

In the darkness, surrounded by the corpses of her friends, Evon began to smile. If by any miracle they got out of here, she was going to kill Keegan. To the nine hells with the consequences. She would slit his throat, and feel no guilt, nor sorrow, about bathing in his blood.