© J.B. Norman — Published by Emona Literary Services™
“Oh dear,” Amara mutters as she steps into Kat’s bedroom. “It’s worse than I thought.”
A recent attempted heist at Porthaven’s Civic Art Gallery was stopped almost single-handedly by Kat, who heroically tackled the leader of the thieves off the roof and into the alley below. Though this brave act allowed for the thief’s apprehension and has led to Kat being lauded and feted as a luminary of the city, she suffered a broken leg as a consequence of her heroics.
And clearly, she is no adjusting well to life as an invalid.
Dunstana and Annie have been trying to keep Kat’s spirits up and her mind occupied on something other than her current sorry state. And, Amara notes, Kat does not seem to be taking to their attempts. Her skin is pale, her hair is dishevelled, and she has deep bags under her bloodshot eyes — she is clearly skirting the line between stir-crazy and properly crazy.
“Hello, Katherine,” Amara says as she approaches Kat’s bed.
“Sweet, loyal Amara,” Kat says, pulling her friend close. “True friend in true need.”
“Yes, yes,” Amara says, gently rubbing Kat’s back. “I love you, too, Katherine.”
“I’ve been so lonely,” Kat murmurs pitifully.
“Hey!” Dunstana exclaims.
“Pay her no mind, Dunstana,” Amara says. “I’m sure she’s very grateful to have such an attentive little sister looking out for her.”
“She’d better,” Dunstana mutters. “Or she can get her own dinners.”
“Katherine, my dear,” Amara offers, sitting on Kat’s bedside. “You need a hobby. Something to occupy your time while you’re stuck here in your room. Knitting, maybe. Crossword Puzzles. Or, uh, scrimshaw.”
Dunstana eagerly surges to her feet. “I’ve got just the thing! Annie, come help!”
Dunstana scurries out of the room with Annie following close behind and they return with a pile of boxes and books in her hands.
“We can play Coat of Plates!”
Kat rolls her eyes. “Dunstana, I don’t need to play a game about being an adventurer,” she protests. “I am an adventurer.”
“No, no, Katherine,” Amara says, putting a hand on Kat’s shoulder. “It sounds fun.”
“Great, let’s play,” Dunstana says, unfolding a map on the floor. “You’ll be the adventurers, and I’ll be the Dungeonarrator.”
“Fine,” Kat says.
“First thing we do is draw characters,” Dunstana explains, reaching into one of the boxes. “Kat, you get to be —”
Dunstana gives Annie a nudge with her elbow. Annie rolls her eyes and hums a little fanfare.
“Miriel of the Stars!” Dunstana exclaims, offering Kat a little figurine of an Elf woman in a robe. “She’s an Elf Thaumaturge who derives her powers from the light of the moon and stars.”
“That actually sounds kinda cool,” Kat mutters.
“And, Amara,” Dunstana says, reaching back into the box. “You Krimson Katja,” Dunstana explains. “You can tell she’s cool because they spell it with a K.”
Amara sceptically studies the figurine in her hand. The woman has long red hair, a confident expression on her face, and a rather impressive sword in her hands, though she only seems to be wearing one third of an outfit.
“Where are the rest of her clothes?” Amara asks, blushing fiercely. “Is she adventuring to the beach?”
She rolls her eyes.
“How vulgar. Clearly, this game was created by a man.”
The full list of my August 2022 Realmgard Short Scenes is here.
The master list of all my Short Scenes is here.
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