Story: A Moustache Called Justice

This is a whimsical story I wrote in response to a prompt calling for the thoughts of things that might not usually be sentient. I chose to bring Andy’s moustache to life.

I have edited the story slightly from the original to try and lift it out of the roleplay universe it was written for. The place names would have had little meaning to the casual reader. It remains, however, one of the silliest things I have ever written.

Hair follicle

Andy’s moustache gained a form of sentience the day it found itself nestled against Evelyn Kincade’s breast. Though not sure what formed the softness beneath his sparse form, he appreciated the warmth. And then the world tilted as the face that wore him jerked upwards, warmth of a different sort tickling his roots. Breath whistled past, ruffling the light hairs of his person, and the mouth him beneath opened, stammered and uttered an apology.

Had the experimental gas released into Evelyn’s lab that day—rendering Andy and Evelyn unconscious for a time—imbued him with the ability to think, or had he merely extruded enough of himself across the boy’s upper lip to come into being? Either way, Justice remembered that as the day of his birth.

He would not gain his name for another year and many adventures awaited him along the way.

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Story: The Hope Chest

Without truly knowing Siorus Cadigan’s history, this story might not carry the same impact for the casual reader. Still, it is one of my favourites and a defining moment in his life. In reading it over, I think it details more of his ‘story’ than most of what I write for him.

Siorus is a character I role play. I like writing stories for him–he doesn’t like me sharing them. Tough luck, Rus, this one is heading out there.

Thedas belongs to BioWare. Siorus and Lostwhithiel belong to me. Sol belongs to Jenn Burke. She and I share all the other characters mentioned. Picture credit: Rolling Grape Vines


((1 Harvestmere, 33 Dragon. Lostwhithiel Castle))

A shadow flickered across the ground at the periphery of Siorus’ vision. He spun, shield raised, and caught the edge of a blade. Steel rang against steel, sharp in the quiet of early morning. A dagger poked between shield and sword and Siorus twisted into the strike, knocking the slender blade aside. Then he twisted back again, shield ready to catch the sword. A boot connected with his shin, the force of the kick nearly enough to tip his balance. He would wear a bruise for a week or more and the mark would be well deserved and familiar.

Skipping back a step, Siorus paused long enough to gather his will, then leapt forward, shield leading his charge. His opponent ducked and sidestepped with unnatural agility and Siorus stopped to breathe. The flat of a blade delivered a stinging blow to the back of his hip. Turning into the strike, Siorus swept his shield across, spun and followed with his sword. He missed. Sidestepping, he tried again.

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Story: This Is Home

Iain MacKinnon is an original character (OC) created for roleplay at the Warden’s Vigil role-playing community. I used to be one of the moderators of the board and the profile of another character, Serafina MacKinnon, captured my interest. Serafina had a twin and he was missing, presumed dead. I thought, ‘What if…’ and Iain popped into my head with a back story, a voice and a very cheeky smile.

For those unfamiliar with the setting of Warden’s Vigil, we are role-playing the aftermath of events that occurred during the game ‘Dragon Age: Origins’ by BioWare. Here is a brief description of the game from Wikipedia:

“Set in the fictional kingdom of Ferelden during a period of civil strife, the player assumes the role of a warrior, mage or rogue coming from an elven, human, or dwarven background who must unite the kingdom to fight an impending invasion by demonic forces.”

At the time Iain was introduced to the board, fifteen months had passed since the end of the ‘game’—Ferelden had a new king and the demonic forces had been vanquished. Iain missed the majority of the war. He was captured in one of the first strikes and sequestered in a dungeon. He endured six months of torture before escaping. That torture left him too weak to run far, however, and he was forced to stowaway aboard a ship to avoid recapture. He struck a bargain with the captain and after he regained his health, he served as a sailor to repay his debt. Nearly two years later, he returned to Ferelden.

This is the story of his return.

Iain MacKinnon, his family, the captain and crew of ‘La Stella Cadente’, the residents of Stormgard and the village itself are my creations. They are set in a world which belongs to BioWare. As always, my thanks go to BioWare for allowing fans to play in their sandbox.

The song ‘This Is Home’ by Switchfoot inspired the title of my story and their music is something I associate with Iain as a character.

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Story: Lost Socks

Andy, or Ser Andrew Banvard, is a character I play at Warden’s Vigil. I write a lot of short stories for Andy. He’s one of the most insistent voices in my head and such a patient little fellow. I enjoy writing him and I enjoy sharing his adventures.

In the following story, Andy has returned home after a shift with the guard. He is supposed to be looking after a cat for his friend, Iain. His wife, Blythe (Bit), is next door with her sister, Evelyn, helping Evelyn pack for a trip overseas. Andy is in a bit of a broody mood. He’s just seen Iain off on a quest, his wife is due to give birth any day and his dear friend, Evelyn, will be leaving soon after. Losing Iain’s cat will make a trying day even less memorable and Andy would prefer not to let down a friend.

((29 Bloomingtide, Evening. Highever))

The house had a foreboding look. Pausing at the gate, Andy frowned at the darkened windows and shadowed doorway. From the street, his house appeared unoccupied. From the perspective of an active imagination, his house might be haunted. Lips twisting in a pensive manner, Andy attempted to talk himself down; yes, haunted houses existed outside of stories and, yes, he had been taunting himself with the idea a rift in the Fade wandered Highever, ready to part at whim, spewing demons and the shade of every fish, rabbit and chicken he’d ever eaten onto the cobblestoned streets. But, to imagine the convergence of three such fantasies in one place…

That took talent.

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