Help Bring Adventures Of Vilven Ledsong To Life

One year ago, my girlfriend and I began playing a One Person Dungeons & Dragons Campaign…

A year+ later, we’ve found that we’ve left a trail/brought to life a great story.

Adventures of Vilven Ledsong is a retelling of a single player Dungeons and Dragons campaign. The campaign began over a year ago, and still continues today!

The campaign was started from the love of two storytellers, James Mahoney (The Dungeon Master) and Kaitlin Q. Calkins (The Player). Together they built a special and unique world, full of emotionally driven characters.

Vilven Ledsong, the protagonist, is pushed throughout the story to transform to a higher level spiritually, emotionally, physically, and in magic. She is supported by a group of diverse friends, who become not only her allies but her family.

With the hope of bringing Adventures of Vilven Ledsong to life, the story is currently being written online by Kaitlin Q. Calkins.

The retelling of it is ongoing, and has even begun to be told through visual art from the talents of LivingSilver .

With your help, Vilven’s story can continue to grow into different forms of media, including books, comic books, animation, and even movies.

You can be part of this by Donating @ Adventures Of Vilven Ledsong GoFundMe Here

You can check out the Story Here;

Chapter I: Ouroboros

Chapter II: Pact Magic

Chapter III: Choice And Notice

Chapter IV: Meeting Wiendle

Chapter V – Catlike

Chapter VI – Encountering A Wizard

Chapter VII – A Charge And A Flame

Chapter VIII – Followed By A Lion

Chapter IX – Acquiescence

Chapter X – A Dialogue Of Friends

Chapter XI – Ineffective Planning

Chapter XII – Rivers And Races

Chapter XIII – Goodbyes And Reacquaintances

And the Art So Far is Here;

Thanks for your Belief, and your Support!

Doragon Kishu- (James Mahoney)

Adventures Of Vilven Ledsong (Chapter XI) – Ineffective Planning


Chapter XI Of My Current Campaign, Which Began A Year Ago, As Written/Retold By My Player Who Plays Vilven

Chapter I: Ouroboros

Chapter II: Pact Magic

Chapter III: Choice And Notice

Chapter IV: Meeting Wiendle

Chapter V – Catlike

Chapter VI – Encountering A Wizard

Chapter VII – A Charge And A Flame

Chapter VIII – Followed By A Lion

Chapter IX – Acquiescence

Chapter X – A Dialogue Of Friends


The next morning Jaren came to consciousness, but in agony from his aching injuries, passed out again within minutes. Wiendle was very worried about him, but Vilven, silently, was relieved he was still even alive, as the cuts and bruises on his body looked dire. The Goblins seemed to have fanatically jabbed and slashed all over, with little finesse, but with efficiency nonetheless.

After their intimate talk the previous night, Grid revealing the tragic history of Beaumont by the Dragon Sabot and Vilven revealing her choice to make a Pact with Areiden, they took turns on watch. They were both a little jumpy at the prospect of more Goblins, or worse, coming into the camp. It was Grid who made the official decision that they needed to leave, as he determined the location was too dangerous to dwell in for another night. They all agreed, especially Wiendle, but that forced them to figure out what to do about the hurt guard that lay before them. After a quick conversation, they determined that the best thing to do was for Grid to carry Jaren over his shoulder, as Jaren was rather lean and wouldn’t be too difficult for a large Tigron to handle. However, this would leave Grid without the reach and the inability to use his bow, so he would not be able to protect any of them in the case of another attack. This left only Vilven to protect them all.

Vilven hesitantly agreed, knowing that there was no other way.

So they moved forward, Vilven leading the group, grasping her sickles like an anchor. Having only little experience with tracking, the forest, and where Warden was, Grid had to give her direction from the back. At first it was a bit awkward to understand what he wanted from her, but she quickly gained the skill of accurately responding to his guidance. Wiendle, her head low, was very silent and hardly moved without permission. Vilven knew the guilt of running off and putting the party in danger was still fresh in Wiendle’s mind, so she didn’t do much to try to change the princess’ mood. Some emotions only lessen with time, Vilven had come to understand.

They were able to make it through a full day, a little slower than they might have if all had been normal, but they thought it successful regardless. The preparations for camp were completed with relative ease, even Wiendle helped to set everything up.

When the princess did decided to retire, and go to her and Jaren’s tent, Grid glanced at Vilven with a pained look, and began to roll his large, lion shoulders.

“Are you alright?” Vilven asked, concerned, peering at him from across the fire.

“Muscles are a bit fatigued.” He said, sharing with her easily. He stretched his arms over his head, his bones seeming to elongate with the motion. Vilven stared, unable to stop herself from thinking how much the movement made him look like a satisfied cat.

“Can’t say I’ve ever carried another being such a long distance before” Grid continued. “Fortunately, I keep in pretty good shape.”

Vilven smiled with amusement tilting her head, then she stretched her legs out in return. “Not to compare, but I am quite sore myself. I just can’t seem to get used to walking this much. It’s just so entirely different than swimming.”

“That it is, My Lady, that it is” Grid said, commiserating.

Vilven sighed, then stood. “If it’s alright, I’ll take the second watch. Unless you want to rest first.”

“Sounds good to me.” Grid responded as he took out his pipe. “Rest well.”

Vilven waved to him, with a big yawn, and walked to her bedroll, falling asleep almost as soon as she laid down.


Vilven woke to the sound of Grid talking with someone.

“Nice night, friend.” An unfamiliar male voice spoke. “Care if me and my comrade share your camp, safety in numbers, after all.”

“Well, that all sounds grand, friend.” Grid’s voice responded. “Other than just one thing, we have absolutely no idea who either of you are.”

Vilven sat up hastily, looking toward where she had heard the stranger’s voice.

She saw Grid sitting, cleaning his pipe, glancing up at two men. One of the men, she assumed the one who had spoken, stood at the opposite end of the fire, facing Grid, his head tilted to one side and his arms lifted in a friendly, inquiring manner. The other stood a few feet behind the first, though his expression, unlike his companion, was not so calm. The second was quite obviously nervous about something, his eyes shifting in all different directions.

Vilven quickly noted that they wore similar clothes to Grid, inexpensive blousey shirts, soft armour, and durable, inelegant pants in different shades of brown, except for vibrant cloaks. The first man wore a deep, forest green and the second man, a bright red. The first had dark brown hair, adored with a surprisingly well groomed mustache and beard, while the second was a dirty blonde. They both were armed with long bows on their backs and swords at their sides.

Almost offended, Vilven shot up to her feet. She pulled out one of her sickles and clenched it tightly in her hand. She walked dominantly next to Grid, and narrowed her eyes at the two strangers who had entered their camp.

“What’s going on here?” Vilven asked Grid, but did not stop looking at the men.

“Nothing to fear,” Grid began, his tone slightly sarcastic. “Just a couple of friendly Rangers passing through.”

Vilven looked at them dubiously, her eyes squinting even more than before. She saw the faint twitch of impatience in the eyes of the brunette man, failing to maintain his friendly demeanor, while the blonde continued his nervous glances.

She shook her head, and took a fighting stance. “They are not to be trusted.”

“My lady, by the Gods, I swear we mean you no harm.” The brunette started as he took a few steps around the fire, toward her.

“Liar.” Vilven spoke harshly,  instinctively lifted her hand in front of her, shielding herself from the man that approached. Before she knew what was happening she felt the magic spring from her, and a watery, blue orb blasted from her palm striking the man in his chest, knocking him to the ground. She gasped and her eyes widened in surprise.

The blonde man looked completely stunned as well, his eyes stared with shock at his prone companion, as he fumbled to unsheathe his sword. When he was finally able to wield the weapon correctly, Grid was already upon him. Grid leaped over the fire, with cat-like agility, and tackled him, pinning him to the ground.

The brunette man, however, jumped to his feet quickly. And with a sneer toward Vilven, he grabbed his sword and pointed it in her direction. “You’re mine.” He spat angrily.

But before he was able to make a move toward her, a frying pan smacked him squarely over the head. He stood there for a moment, but then his eyes rolled back and he fell unconscious to the floor.

Behind him stood the princess, her cheeks pink and her chest heaving quickly with adrenaline and fear, holding the pan over her head with both hands.

Vilven chuckled slightly, warmly looking at the princess. “Thank you, Wiendle.”

Then she turned toward Grid who was still on top of the blonde man.

“Let’s tie them up?” She suggested.

About ten minutes later, Vilven and Grid had taken all their weapons, their bows, swords, and daggers, and had them piled on the opposite side of the camp. The blonde man responded to their requests while the brunette was still passed out, so they just maneuvered and dragged him around. Vilven and Grid had the two men sitting on the ground. Grid, kneeling next to them, was tying them back to back.  The rope was taunt, but not overly tight. And just as Grid finished tying the last knot, the brunette man came to consciousness.

“Ow.” He said with a whine, responding to his aching head.

“Quit your moaning, you’re lucky to be alive.” Grid asserted as he rose to his feet.

While her Tigron friend was finishing with them, Vilven was on the other side of the camp, crouched near the weapons they had taken, inspecting them. “Do you think we can sell these?” She called out to Grid.

“In a heartbeat.” Grid responded.

“You’re gonna leave us in the middle of the forest without weapons?” The brunette said, exacerbated.

Vilven looked at the brunette man, then thought back to the terrible encounter they had with the Goblins. She looked thoughtfully down at the daggers they had taken. She picked them up and walked toward the tied rangers, dropping the blades about ten feet away from them.

“These should suffice.” Vilven said to them, sincerely.

“I’ve tied the ropes  loose enough, you’ll be out in about an hour.” Grid told them. “Next time you enter our camp, we won’t be so nice.”

“This is all your fault, Beaden” The blonde man said to his companion.

“You gave them my name, you idiot” Beaden responded back.

“Please excuse Beaden.  I’m Cho. Thank you for not killing us.” Cho said to them, with a friendly smile. Vilven smiled flirtatiously in return, noting how handsome this Cho was for the first time.

Just then, Grid’s eyes glanced sharply down at the two men, now revealed to be Beaden and Cho, noting small pouches at their sides.

“Well, well, what do we have here” Grid said, crouching down, cutting the bags loose with his knife, then tossing them to Vilven.

Vilven successfully caught them, then smiled mischievously.

“No, not the gold!” Beaden cried out at them. “I didn’t take you for common thieves.”

“Beaden, will you please stop insulting our captures.” Cho pleaded with him.

Vilven managed to open one of the pouches, it was, indeed, filled with beautiful, immaculate gold. It nearly overflowed with it. Vilven’s eye’s shined with excitement.

“This is a lot of money.” Vilven said dreamily, almost to herself.

“Vilven! Grid! Look!” They all turned to Wiendle as she emerged from the tent, with Jaren leaning on her. All of them stared silently at the young man. He was holding his side, but the slight smile on his lips showed how far he had come from his near death.

Vilven winked, then flicked a gold to him. “About time you showed up. you’re missing all the fun.” She told him with affection.

She sighed and smiled satisfied at Grid, “Tonight has been good.”

“Yeah, it’s been great.” Beaden said dryly.




Adventures Of Vilven Ledsong (Chapter 7) – A Charge And A Flame

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Chapter VII Of My Current Campaign, Which Began 11-12 Months Ago, As Written/Retold By My Player Who Plays Vilven

Chapter I: Ouroboros

Chapter II: Pact Magic

Chapter III: Choice And Notice

Chapter IV: Meeting Wiendle

Chapter V – Catlike

Chapter VI – Encountering A Wizard


Vilven woke around midday, sluggishly, almost drunkenly. The events of the previous two days having made both her mind and body fatigued, even after a full nights sleep. She had a thought that she would probably have to start training to stay sharp, both physically and mentally. With a groan she sat up to rub her face. As she looked around at the lake that had become strangely familiar to her, she had the realization that it really was real. Wiendle, Zed, Varamore, all real. The most real part, however, she thought to herself as she smiled, was her deep connection with Areiden. She could feel , and had a peculiar confidence in it, though still so alien, it was a part of who she was now. And despite herself, she was quite eager to help Wiendle and Jaren escape. It would give her a chance to make a difference for someone. She wanted the princess to be able to live free to be who she wanted to be, and with who she wanted to be with. And though part of this desire she knew came from her own suppressed and painful past, she tried to not dwell on it. That life was, and had to be, behind her now.

Vilven swiftly swam to her feet, and despite her tiredness, stood model like in the twinkling water, the afternoon Sun making everything dance. She half swam, half walked on the bottom of the lake, looking absentmindedly around. It occurred to her that this was such a large lake and that it may hold some secrets. In fact, she was certain of it. Large bodies of water were always filled with mystery, for good and for bad. She lived in the sea her whole life, and knew that even she had little clue of all the creatures and treasures it held. The thought excited her so much that she decided she would try to explore at least some of it, and see if she could find anything.

So Vilven swam the lake over, occasionally asking the fish if they had seen things of value or mystique. Some knew very little, just the location of some gold coins and some lost jewelry. Other fish, the majority actually, just avoided the question, and frighteningly swam away as fast as they could. This alarmed Vilven, but she also knew how skittish fish could be. And after quite a few hours, with still nothing that interesting discovered, she abandoned her search. She realized her hope to find something was probably a false thought, but yet…

Those fish did seem rather frightened.

Vilven felt goosebumps and looked over her shoulder. But there was nothing. Just the swaying water.

Forcing herself to ignore the feeling in the pit of her stomach, she realized that nightfall was nearly upon her. Though the plan wasn’t entirely clear, as Wiendle had to rush her out of the room quickly, she did assume she should wait near Wiendle’s window. Vilven expected that that would be where Jaren and the princess had planned to “break out”. So Vilven swam in the direction of the castle, quite a  distance from it now from her failed search, though it wouldn’t take too long for Vilven, as she was an obviously avid swimmer. Especially now with her ability to see in the dark.

And when she reached a shallow part near the water’s edge, Vilven peaked her head above, just enough to look up at Wiendle’s window. She saw Wiendle there, nearly just a cloaked frame in the darkness, staring intensely down at the water. Vilven noted the change in Wiendle’s stance as she recognized her in the water. Wiendle spoke to someone behind her, most likely Jaren, as she let the curtain fall. Vilven could barley make out shadows shifting for a moment behind the cover of the curtain, then she saw nothing.

Vilven had a moment of fear. Could this have all been a ploy? A set up? Could Zed have told King Beaumont about her and invented some trick to catch her?

Just then she heard the slight sound of a door opening, Vilven immediately dropped under the water, hoping the guards, or worse, weren’t coming to get her. But as she looked toward the castle, she could make out through the water the blurred figure of Wiendle standing near the edge of the lake. Trust making her, nearly forcing her, to move toward the pretty, blonde princess. When her head was again above water, Wiendle spoke urgently to her

“Vilven! How are we to escape? We don’t have much time.”

Jaren rounded the corner, barley visible in the darkness of the night,  to stand behind Wiendle, a loving hand covering her shoulder.

Vilven knew this wasn’t a game then. It wasn’t a trick. It was love, and it was desperation.

“Can you swim?” Vilven asked quietly

“No, neither of us can. Plus…”  Wiendle lifted a small, but essential, bag that she was holding.

“Plus my armor” Jaren said, looking cautiously over his shoulder.

Vilven nodded, “Do you have a boat?”

Wiendle’s eyes grew wide, “Yes! yes, on the other side of the castle.”

“I’ll meet you there.”

“We don’t have much time”

“Then we have to hurry.” Vilven spoke with unexpected authority, then made her way under the water to swim rapidly to the other side of the castle.

She resurfaced just as Wiendle and Jaren’s silhouettes came into view. Jaren grasped Wiendle’s hand, nearly pulling her to keep pace with his quick strides. It hit Vilven as deeply romantic, to another perhaps not so, but the fierceness and strength he displayed came, she could tell, from protectiveness, responsibility, and love for Wiendle.

It was there that Vilven learned that love, every kind of love, came with gravity. Love was love, but it was also a duty. Vilven swore to herself that she would love like that. She would love like that.

She watched as Jaren helped Wiendle into a row boat, pushing it into the water a little, before pulling himself onto it. Vilven swam to the front of the boat, trying to think of a strategy to get them out as quickly as possible. Then it hit her. She was an avid swimmer after all.

“Is there rope?” Vilven asked

Wiendle looked down into the boat to lift up rather frayed looking rope, but Vilven decided it would work.

“Tie either side of the rope tight to the hoops where the oars go.” Vilven commanded.

Jaren grabbed the rope, to tie with near fluidity, very neat, obviously tight, knots. Vilven reached in to grab the rope, pulling it over the front of her body, under her arms, so she could swim.

With all her strength she began to pull the boat, she groaned with strain, it was almost too much for her, but after relentless effort, the boat was able to get some momentum and she was able to pull it quite easily. Jaren tried to helped with the oars, though it didn’t do much, as the boat was moving fast. Very fast. Vilven was like a jet, her arms and legs moving expertly through the lake. Wiendle even had to hold on at times, the wind force making the hood of her cloak fall.

It was a very big lake, and even Vilven began to get tired trying to reach the other side, but she dare not stop. This was her mission, and she would not give up. She could hear Wiendle laugh with joy as they began to get closer to the edge. That gave Vilven the extra push to get there.

When they reached the other side, Vilven looked up to see the wall of enormous trees she had seen before. Shocked even more than before, they were taller than even the castle had been. Despite her gaping, Vilven was able to remain focused. She released the rope to stand, the water very shallow around her legs.

“Come on, guys, you have to hurry before someone realizes you’re gone.” Vilven said forcefully, waving them to get out of the boat.

They awkwardly jumped into the water, walking sluggishly to the edge.

“Vilven! Thank you, so, so, so much! I knew you would do it. You’re my hero” Wiendle said with tears. “Take this.” she reached into her bag to pull out and hand Vilven a sack of coins.

“Are you sure?” Vilven asked.

“Money is not a problem.” Wiendle said sniffing the tears away, “We have to go, but we are so grateful”

“Yes, thank you. For everything” Jaren said meaningfully.

” Yes, go, be happy. Where will you go, if you don’t mind me asking?” Vilven questioned.

“We are going to try to find a village on the coast west of here called Warden. Maybe there we can catch a boat. They might find us if we stay close to here” Jaren said.

Just then a flame emerged to their left, sparking to life like an explosion.

“Run!” Vilven shouted to Jaren and Wiendle, and they did, into the dark, impending forest. Vilven jumped into the lake, swimming out just enough to be able to flee underneath if she needed to. Standing near the fire, adding a few more logs to it, was a lion. Was it a lion? Vilven swam a little closer to take a better look.

He was tall, taller than her. He had a lion face, down to the tan fur, sharp teeth, and luxurious, large mane. But yet he was wearing clothes, a long brown cloak, blousey shirt, and maroon pants. He was even standing on his hind legs. He was like some sort of lion man. But not just man, Vilven realized, he was adorned with thick, fabric armor, a long sword, but most impressive, a large elegant bow. He could be very dangerous. His large, glittering, yellow eyes moved to look at her.

“They’ll never make it out there, you know.” The lion man said, as he sat, lighting a large wooden pipe.

Vilven was slightly shocked at his response. She decided that she would be safer retreating into the water. So she turned to swim away.

“But it was nice of you to help them.” The lion man continued.

Vilven began to swim back toward the castle, looking every so often behind her at the fire that gradually become more and more distant. Vilven stopped when she was quite a distance away, looking almost dreamlike at the firelight, retreating into her thoughts. What would happen if she did stay here? Would they find her and punish her for helping Jaren and Wiendle leave? And even if they didn’t find her, was she supposed to stay in this lake forever? Perhaps this lion man could help her understand more about where she was. Help her find another place to be. She was scared to be foolish and make rash decisions, but perhaps this person could be of help to her. He didn’t seem that unfriendly, did he?

With caution, but resolve Vilven made her way back toward the lion man, until she was at the spot she was before.

“It seems rather suspicious,” Vilven called out to him. “You sitting out here at the edge of the lake of King Beaumont’s castle. Makes you look somewhat…villainous.”

He looked at her, then laughed robustly. “I have my reasons.” He said with humor.

“That’s what I’m afraid of.” Vilven countered.

“Never let fear run you, girl, think of the adventures you’ll miss.” He said with a smile, as he put his pipe down next to him, serving himself some sort of food from a pot on the fire.

Vilven was quiet for a long while.

“Are you really a lion?” Vilven said, almost innocently, breaking the silence.

“A Tigron, now come join me. You must be hungry.”

Vilven was, she had survived the past two days licking algae and other vegetation off of  rocks, aside from the pastries Wiendle had given her. What this…Tigron, had cooking seemed much more appealing.

Vilven swam toward the fire. Her stomach winning the fight, forcing her to trust this stranger. She surfaced the water, walking toward him, using her magic to make herself dry.

Her frame and face became visible to him for the first time in the swaying light of the fire. As he looked up at her, the Tigron’s eyes widened. He was struck by her uniqueness, and yes, her beauty. He had never seen anyone that looked like her before, and it stunned him for a moment.

“Have a seat” He said as he waved his paw lavishly next to him, and poured her a bowl, of, what she could assess now, as some sort of vegetable stew.

She did take a seat next to him, taking the bowl graciously. She looked at him curiously, “Should I call you Tigron?” She then took a big spoonful of the food into her mouth, making her almost moan in delight at the flavor.

“The names Grid.” He said. “I come from a village some twenty miles east of here. And what, pray you, species of being are you?

“Grid, I’m Vilven.” She said, after a few more spoonfuls of food. “Nice to meet you. I come from…” Vilven trailed off. Looking at him again with distrust. “Why are you here, anyway? Won’t the guards see your fire and catch you?”

“I’m no threat to them” He said with confidence “And if you must know,” he continued “I come here from time to time to eye the behavior of a large dragon which lives within and beneath the lake. Her name is Sabot.”

Vilven dropped the bowl of stew in front of her. Her shocked eyes staring at the lake she had been living in the past two days. “It can’t be…”




Adventures Of Vilven Ledsong (Chapter VI) – Encountering A Wizard


Chapter VI Of My Current Campaign, Which Began 11-12 Months Ago, As Written/Retold By My Player Who Plays Vilven

Chapter I: Ouroboros

Chapter II: Pact Magic

Chapter III: Choice And Notice

Chapter IV: Meeting Wiendle

Chapter V – Catlike


The older man said nothing further, just held out his hand, indicating he knew about the book and wanted it back.

Vilven looked down at his outstretched arm, then up at his hard expression, then back at his arm. With a resigned sigh, Vilven held it out in his direction. With a quickness that she didn’t expect, he grabbed it and threw it carelessly onto his desk as he walked past her. He made his way to his chair on the other side of the desk, having to avoid piles of books and papers on the floor. The black cat loyally followed him to curl at his feet.

“I just wanted to read it.”  Vilven said, with just a twinge of attitude. She realized she was the culprit, but his disposition was automatically irritating to her.

As he sat back down, already reading a piece of paper on the desk, he waved his hand toward her. “Fine, read it, then get out”,

Mildly offended, but not going to decline his offer, she turned, went to the book, turned it to face her, then opened it with her free hand, the other one still holding the tea he gave her. The book was in an Elvish language, but luckily she was familiar with Elvish enough to follow what it said. And after the first page, she realized regrettably, it wouldn’t be helpful to her even in the slightest. It described some sort of complicated technique to memorize spells better that only Elves would have time to decipher.

With disappointment, she closed the book deliberately, placed the tea onto the cover, and with a final glance at the old man, turned to leave.

“Seems an awful lot of trouble you went through to read a paragraph.”. The man said without looking up when she reached the door.

Vilven stopped to look back over her shoulder, then she slowly turned to face him, “Are you going to tell anyone about me?”  she asked.

He looked up at her with a curious expression, then stood. “Do you know where you are, girl?”

Vilven took a step inside, trying to gauge the situation and how much she should disclose to this strange, old man. Looking sharply into his eyes she responded with the truth, “All I know about where I am is that this is King Beaumont’s castle. I was hoping to find out more, but that plan didn’t work out as planned. Obviously.”

With deep wisdom, he took a few steps toward her. “You’re not from here, are you? Not even from this plane. You’re a genasi”

She didn’t respond.

With a nod of concession, he continued to speak  “You are correct, you are in King Beaumont’s castle.”  He began to walk slowly around the room then, idly brushing dust off  various items and objects, glancing every so often at her like a teacher to a student. “It’s in the forest region.” He continued as he crossed his arms behind his back. “The forest region of Varamore, in the Material Plane”.

Vilven stared blankly at him, but her mind was quickly trying to connect this new information with what she had already learned from Wiendle.

“I heard there was an attack here…” Vilven inquired after a pause.

He raised an eyebrow at her in response, “Did you.” he said in a dry, facetious tone. “What is your name?” he added, ending the subject.

Resigned that he wasn’t going to say anything more about it, she introduced herself, “I’m Vilven Ledsong. I am a genasi, a water genasi. I’m from the Water Plane.”

“You can call me Zed.” He said, then made his way back to his desk, and his chair. “I’ll leave it at that.” He spoke, almost to himself, as he sat back down. He picked up and began reading the piece of paper he had been reading before. “You better leave. Before someone else finds you. God knows you probably woke up the entire place” He said without looking up.

Vilven gave a small nod, a slight smile coming to her face “Thank you, Zed.” she said slowly and meaningfully. Then she turned, to walk through the open doorway.

“And Vilven,” Zed called out to her, she looked back.  “Shut the door.”


“Varamore…” Vilven murmured to herself when she was back in the lake, laying on the bottom among the sand and rocks, the darkness of the night finally making her eyes fall with drowsiness. She had never heard of Varamore before, and couldn’t remember if she had ever heard of this particular plane of existence before either. But regardless of how much more she wished she knew, she was content that she had come to learn even this much on her first day. She felt that she was quite comfortable in her new life, though she wasn’t sure where it was leading. She was happy to have met Wiendle and Zed. She was content that she was sent here for a reason, she could be content in looking for information and solving the mystery.  She could even willingly accept that in some capacity she belonged to Areiden now, and was no longer fully free. But what was difficult, what truly tore her inside, was she still grieved the loss of her home. She had lost her whole existence and was being asked a great deal to accept all these changes. She wasn’t angry in this knowledge, just deeply sad. A foreign world, strangers, unknown abilities…In truth, even she was beginning to be different, act different, and she ached for her old self and her simple life.  “Varamore” Vilven said again, with a sob, and began to cry until she fell asleep in her heartache.

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Adventures Of Vilven Ledsong (Chapter V) – Catlike


Chapter V Of My Campaign, Which Started 11 Months Ago, Written/Retold By My Player Who Plays The Character Vilven

Chapter I: Ouroboros

Chapter II: Pact Magic

Chapter III: Choice And Notice

Chapter IV: Meeting Wiendle


Vilven swam fluidly in the large lake, circling the magnificent castle in the center. Her introduction to Wiendle was still fresh in her mind, and though she was unsure if she was going to end up to be an ally in this situation, she knew she wanted to be. Wiendle appeared to be desperate for another life, consumed by innocence and pushed by longing. But Vilven was wiser than to leave the mysteries in Wiendle’s request to escape the castle, and her royal father, as mystery. She knew that there was much more to the story than she knew or was being told.

As a stranger in a new land, perhaps it was the wrong approach to creep into a household of possibly otherwise peaceful and friendly people, but Vilven figured the opposite could be much worse. And though she had very little experience in doing anything like this, the twinge of curiosity and the knowledge she was sent here for a reason pushed her to explore further. She waited for the sky to turn black before she decided to try to sneak into the castle again. As the sun set slowly, Vilven jerked in surprise as her eyes adjusted to the dark easily. It took her only seconds before she realized it was another gift from Areiden.

She was beginning to get used to the feeling of the magic swelling inside her, even after less than a day she loved the almost instantaneous way it responded to her needs, quicker than a thought, as natural as a heartbeat. But she also knew it would take discipline to master. Controlling the magic would be like controlling a reflex of the body, and there were times when she knew she wouldn’t want to do what her most immediate instincts told her to do. It would be learning to think a whole knew way. There had to be space between thought and magic, between emotion and magic. But for now she was just thankful she had magic that allowed her to see in the darkness at all. She decided she would always try to be thankful for it.

She swam to the bottom of the lake to walk on the sand, now colored an unnatural grey, whether from the dull light of the moon or her dark vision Vilven couldn’t tell. Her mind was set on trying to break into Wiendle’s chambers again, it seemed the easiest way to enter and at least she could try to lie if Wiendle caught her. But looking up, preparing to swim toward Wiendle’s window, she spotted a surface that seemed oddly smooth compared to the rest of the rocks that made up the island of land that held the castle. She cautiously swam closer to see a kind of door. It looked to be steel, round, with a large knob in the center. In Vilven’s mind, the knob looked like a wheel from a ship, though it was made of metal and not wood.

Without thought, Vilven went to the wheel and, with both hands around one of the spokes, began to pull it. It put a strain on her, and though it took her a few minutes, the initial fastening released and the wheel-knob began to turn easily. She silently cursed herself for being so impulsive, but it was drowned out by her excitement.

When the knob had reached it’s final turn, Vilven pulled the hefty door aside on it’s hinges to expose a long round tunnel. The tunnel was already filled with water, but the water from the lake still rushed in slightly, mixing with the considerably warmer water in the tunnel. After a short moment, Vilven swam into the mysterious channel, careful to be silent and to not touch the walls.

When the tunnel stopped suddenly, Vilven would have rammed into the wall had she not been able to stop herself and thrust herself back. She looked forward at the stone wall, inches from her face, looked behind her to see the distant circle shape of the entrance that lead to the lake. Then she looked up to notice that the tunnel extended upward, with a sigh of relief, she began to swim, noticing the ladder welded to the side. She was able to deduct that this, hopefully, was most likely an entrance into the castle. Probably something like an escape route in case of emergencies. After what seemed like far too long, Vilven’s face finally broke the surface of the water. Looking around she noticed about ten feet of space between where the water stopped to the top of the tunnel, where there stood an outline of another round door. This one, however, had no knob-wheel.

Determined, Vilven swam to the ladder on the wall to take hold of the first rung. She pulled herself up to take the next one, her feet following her hands, until she was fully emerged from the water, climbing the wall. She smiled silently to herself thinking that it was somehow ironic she was entering the castle similar to how she had the first time. Using a small magical ability she learned as a child, she connected to the water clinging to her white dress, her indigo hair, her silver skin, to flow off her body until she became fully dry. The one magical thing she could do before she ever met Areiden. It felt good to need something that came purely from herself.

When she reached the door above her, she took pause, as she wasn’t sure how to open it. On closer inspection, there wasn’t even hinges on this one, only a small space for ones hand on the side. She put her hand into the space, and pushed upward with force, as it looked heavy. It popped open easily, and the lid to the tunnel flew forward to ram into a nearby wall, making a loud clang. With shock, her black eyes glancing around frantically,  Vilven pushed herself into the castle, and half crawling to the lid, quickly dragged it back to cover the hole of the tunnel. Then she bolted. She flew down the hall, unsheathing her sickle, to look for a place to hide. She put her ear to the nearest door, listening to see if she could hear anything or anyone in the room.

When she heard the sound of snoring she let out an audible breath. Her heart steadied a bit, as she hoped the rest of the castle, like this person, hadn’t been awakened by her. But then, in the corner of her eye, she saw a slight movement, and her heart started pounding again. As quickly as she could, she pushed herself up against the wall next to the door, peering down the hall to where she saw the movement.

Out of the door, in the opposite corner, an older man of about sixty stalked into the hall. His beard was long, as was his hair, which glittered a mix of silver and black in the low light of the candle he held. His robes were unkempt, but were a pleasant gray and blue color. He seemed very preoccupied with something, Vilven thought, as his eyes were furrowed intensely, staring at the floor. He was grumbling to himself something inaudible as he began to walk, nearly stomp, down the hall, toward her direction. She held her breath and dared not move as she watched him come closer and pass, hoping that the low light and his intent on the floor would keep him from seeing her. When he rounded the corner her whole body released.

Vilven shook her head in disbelief from her luck. She realized she was in dangerous territory and should have been much more careful. But the old man hadn’t seen her, and hopefully she could keep it so no one would.

She looked forward to where he had entered into the hall and saw that he had left the door open. It was well lit inside the room, the candlelight dancing into the dark hall.  With a quick look back in the direction he left, Vilven remembered why she had gone through all this trouble in the first place: to learn more about the castle, the land and the people inside it. In an instant decision, connecting deeply to her resolve, she rushed quietly to the open door, hoping she could learn something about her purpose here.

When she peered in, she nearly yelled as two big, yellow eyes stared back at her.

The beautiful, black cat meowed at her as he moved toward her. She had heard of cats, had even seen one once living on one of the ships that had crashed in the Water Plane.

Resisting the urge to pet him, Vilven whispered “Not now, Kitty” as she entered the room, past the cat. The room was a mess of papers and books, random items were scattered everywhere, and she had never seen so much ink in her life. Glancing all over not sure where to start, as well as trying to be fast, Vilven grabbed the closest book to her. She held it under her arm, praying it had the answers she needed.

Then a throat cleared behind her.

With an intake of breath, Vilven slowly turned to see the older man from before standing there, his face obviously annoyed, nearly furious. He looked menacing in the candlelight outlining his figure, but he held two cups of tea in his hands, one she knew was for her.

The cat meowed almost proudly up at him.

“Was it the cat?” Vilven asked the man, nearly appalled.

“Yes, it was the cat” He said shoving the tea into her hand.

“But then again, you don’t really know how to sneak around quietly do you?”

Adventures Of Vilven Ledsong (Chapter IV) – Meeting Wiendle


Chapter IV Of My Dungeons & Dragons Campaign, Which Began 11 Months Ago, Written/Retold By My Player Who Plays Vilven

Chapter I: Ouroboros

Chapter II: Pact Magic

Chapter III: Choice And Notice


With urgency, Vilven began to pull herself up the frayed rope. Hand over hand, her legs scaled the castle wall.  Every inch seemed like an eternity, tension making her heart beat rapidly. She knew nothing about who was waiting for her in the window, but she had learned, seemingly in an instant, that sticking to your decision was the best way to survive. So she continued.

When she found herself about a foot away from the elegant windowpane, to Vilven’s surprise, a small, delicate arm came from it, toward her. Vilven’s eyes followed up the arm to see, unexpectedly,  a beautiful, young girl of about sixteen. Her hair was a perfect blonde, her eyes a sky blue. Vilven stared in something like confusion, before she came to understand, and grabbed the outstretched arm. Though the girl had to strain, she helped Vilven into the awaiting chambers on the other side of the window, to what seemed like, to Vilven, a sanctuary.

In actuality, it was merely a bedchamber, though it was a rather lavish one. The room was large, decorated with a bright, lavender color. Tapestries and paintings adorned the walls around intricately carved furniture of wood and metal.

“I saw you out there, in the water!” The human girl spoke excitedly to Vilven, as she pulled the rope into the room to lie carelessly on the ground, the other end tied to a leg of her bed.

“My name is Wiendle. What’s yours? Why are you here? What are you?” She asked curiously in a high, bell-like voice without taking a breath. Though the girl was friendly and eager, her high energy came more from an obvious, almost desperate need to relieve her loneliness and boredom than anything else. Vilven reading this figured it was safe to stay for the moment.

“I’m Vilven,” Vilven said, responding in the same universal language, though Vilven had not spoken it in many years, which gave her a slight, exotic accent. She looked around the room to see a beautiful, cushioned chair, “May I sit?” She asked the wide eyed girl.

“Oh, yes! Please, where are my manners? Would you like something to drink? Something to eat?” Wiendle said formally, walking Vilven to the chair. Though Wiendle stood close to a foot shorter than Vilven, she didn’t seem intimidated or worried at all. Vilven couldn’t tell if it was innocence or bravery that enabled this. “Won’t someone see my pitons?” Vilven inquired.

“Oh, don’t worry too much about that. I’ve let Jaren know, and he’ll make sure the other guards don’t see them.” Wiendle said in a matter of fact tone.

“Who is Jaren?” Vilven asked as she sat.

“Jaren…” Wiendle said with a sigh escaping her lips and love glowing in her eyes. “He is my love. We are to be married. Once we leave this place, that is.”

“Where is this place exactly?” Vilven asked quickly

Wiendle looked surprised for a moment. “Why, this is the city of Beaumont. This is King Beaumont’s castle.”

Vilven looked at her with little reaction. Vilven had never heard of this place, in fact she was suddenly struck with the realization that she was in a new world, full of complete unknowns. She became aware of her vulnerability, and decided to keep her guard up.

“Oh. Oh, right.” Vilven feigned knowledge.

“Yes. Also, I forgot to mention, I’m King Beaumont’s daughter. I’m Princess Wiendle . Well, I am for now. I may have to lose that title if I am to not be found when I runaway.”

“You seem awfully preoccupied with leaving here.” Vilven noted, looking around at the lavish surroundings. “But this seems like a beautiful place to live. Are you not happy? Is your father cruel to you?” She asked, thoughts of her own father filling her heart with pain.

“Oh, no no no. He is a wonderful father.” Wiendle said walking toward the window to gaze out at the big lake. “But he forces me to stay here. It is just so boring and I hate being treated like a child. I just want to see the world. I want the freedom to live my own life, I want to marry Jaren.” Leaning forward on the window pane, she continued.” You know, my father has never been the same after the attack here.” She turned back to quickly look at Vilven. “What are you?” Wiendle asked again, but with a sudden edge of distrust.

Vilven felt her magic hovering in the air, even before the thought crossed her mind. Areiden did not tell her how her magic would work, but she started to learn quickly. It was like an instinct that came from something deeper than thought. Her gut reaction and intense feelings would seem to effect the magic. She knew that she would influence Wiendle, but wasn’t sure how long it would last.

“I’m a mermaid” Vilven lied about herself expertly, helped by her magic. “I can help you escape. You and Jaren. I would just need direction where to go” She offered. Vilven thought about asking what the attack was about, but thought better of it, as it seemed to make Wiendle hostile.

“You would really help us?” Wiendle said excitedly, her mistrust completely vanished. “Oh, how I would appreciate it! Jaren will be elated!”

There was an abrupt knock that made Vilven jump. Wiendle walked to the door, to turn the beautiful, glass handle. She opened the door just an inch wide. “It’s Jaren!” Wiendle whispered, whipping her head toward Vilven, then back at Jaren on the other end of the door. Curious, Vilven walked behind Wiendle to see the young guard that was doing rounds outside the castle. He had seen her! But it was because he knew she was there.

Vilven walked back to the chair, feeling it best to stay hidden from view.

Wiendle opened the door a little wider to take a tray from Jaren, then closed it.

“You are going to have to leave soon. Jaren can only keep the guards preoccupied for so long” Wiendle said to Vilven. “But have some food before you leave. You were serious about helping us leave, right?” she asked as she handed Vilven the tray full of different breads, pastries, and spreads.

“Of course” Vilven responded.

“Give us until tomorrow night. We will be ready to leave by then. Eat.” Wiendle commanded.

Vilven began to eat, ravenously.

After about ten minutes, Vilven said her goodbyes to Princess Wiendle, climbed down and removed her pitons, to vanish again into the lake. Now with a mission at hand: To help Wiendle and Jaren escape.

But there was still so many questions. Who was this King Beaumont? What was this attack? Where exactly was she?

Vilven decided her sneaking around may not be over. There was still so much more to learn about this place. But one thing she knew for sure, her magic was real. And it felt good. Really good.

With a smile on her face, reeling from excitement, she swam deep into the lake, to see what else she might discover.


Adventures Of Vilven Ledsong (Chapter III) – Choice And Notice


Chapter III Of The Tale Of My Current Dungeons & Dragons Campaign Which Started 11 Months Ago… Written/Retold By My Player Who Plays The Character Of Vilven

*The Art Above Is Commissioned For This Chapter by Living Silver

Chapter I: Ouroboros

Chapter II: Pact Magic


Vilven woke in a trance, her breath, slow and deep, expanded her lungs in a somehow comforting and natural movement. But as she pushed her eyes open, her surroundings were unfamiliar. She was at the bottom of the water looking up at the surface, as she had done many times in the past, but these waters were different than her home. Everything was different. The color, the energy, the feeling of the water, the fish, the lighting, all different. Yet, calmness surrounded her. A dreamy rebirth that it seemed hardly real. The troubles of her old life floated away, even her memory was slipping. She wasn’t entirely sure what had happened between her and Areiden, but she could feel the strength of it within. It felt right. Even now she could feel the piece of her that was given to Areiden, a strange, powerful merging.  Sitting up, pulling her knees to her chest, Vilven looked down at her hands, focusing on her fingertips. Her light, silvery skin was almost glowing, her bare feet almost delicate against the mud. Her eyes adjusted, focusing next to the anklet he had given to her. Magic.

She admitted to herself she wasn’t sure how to embrace this new power. Outside of the small ways she could manipulate water from her water genasi race, magic had been a mystery to her. So having the potential to be powerful, much more powerful, was difficult to understand. Though the thought was intoxicating.

She wasn’t sure what her next step was. Areiden didn’t explain what he wanted from her, or where he sent her. Why did he come to her for this anyway? Why did he choose her? Was it really because he saw something special inside her? Or was it just because she happened to be vulnerable? Was it just because she was directionless? But regardless of anything that had happened, regardless of the questions she had, she would’ve had to leave home anyway. She was banished, she reminded herself.  And if this hadn’t happened with Areiden, what would’ve happened to her? She would just have to figure it out now. She made her choice.

Becoming more aware of her surroundings in the beautiful, but murky water, she noticed a pack next to her. Near the pack laid a pair of black, ankle length boots, as well as two blue handled sickles sheathed onto a black belt. Vilven assumed correctly that these were keepsakes from Areiden who wanted her to be prepared. She pulled one of the sickles to examine the blade more closely, it felt good in her hand, and the sharp curve of  it seemed more useful than a simple dagger might be. Re-sheathing it, she pulled the belt to her, stood, and attached it around her hips. She put the strap of the pack over head, to cross over her body, letting it hang to her side. As for the boots, she looked at them hesitantly, but awkwardly slipped them on, as she had never really needed shoes before. But they had been magically altered, she could tell, and in the water it felt as if her feet were still bare, as to not limit her ability to swim. She smiled, the gifts fit her quite well.

Speaking the tongue of her home, she called out to one of the fish swimming by, “Excuse me, can you tell me where I might be?” She asked. The small fish, black and gray, swam to her, looking at her curiously. The fish replied simply “Beaumont. Lake.” He than swam away, into the distance of the green-blue water. “Lake?” She said to herself, and looked around once again. Though it didn’t look as vast as the ocean, it looked bigger than an average lake would be. Curious, Vilven swam upward toward the top of the water. When her head broke the surface of the lake, giving her a glimpse of the surroundings, Vilven’s eyes grew wide at the sight before her. After hundreds of feet of water, was a large, stone castle. It was a type of structure that looked as though it wasn’t intended for defense or attack, it was more like a fairy-tale. Though in some ways it gave the appearance of strength and royalty, in other ways it seemed rather pretty and magical. The different towers, all topped with deep red flags, seemed to layer each other, giving it the likeness of an intricate origami piece. The magical quality further exemplified being surrounded by such an enormous lake, for it seemed to float in the middle. Vilven, though she found a rare patch of island to walk upon in the Water Plane, had never seen such structures on land before. She realized then that her adventures in this place, wherever she was, would go beyond the comfort of water. At this she felt overwhelmed, and quickly sank back just below the surface.

“Vilven,” Areiden’s voice came into her mind, that same deep, calm voice. “trust me.”

“What am I supposed to do here, Areiden? Who lives in the castle? ” She spoke, desperate for some direction.

“Trust yourself, Vilven. You will know what to do.”

“Areiden…”She spoke.

But there was no reply.

After taking a breath, allowing her courage and strength to grow,  she broke the surface again to look up at the impressive castle. What was it Areiden wanted her to do? In an instinct, she turned to look at the other side of the lake. A wall of tall, green trees met her gaze. This was another thing she had never encountered, a forest. Though she had seen lone trees before, and was mesmerized by their beauty, this amount was simply overpowering, and further astonished her. Vilven shook her head in disbelief, and began to turn back to the castle.

Just as she did, she noticed a couple guards, one younger and one slightly older, walking around the castle. As quick as she could, she pushed herself underneath the water, cursing herself for not being more careful. But before she could get underneath, she did notice the younger guard turn his head toward her movement.

She seemed to wait there for a long time, though it had only been a few minutes. The quiet was deafening as she tried, unsuccessfully, to peer through the water to see if they had spotted her. She then decided, cautiously, to take another look. Vilven swam up, just enough to peer over the water. No one was there. It seemed to her that they probably hadn’t seen her. She exhaled in relief, and took a moment to assess the situation. It became obvious to her then that this was not the front of the castle, but one of the sides. She thought about her options. Either head toward the castle, head toward the forest, or explore the water. In a nearly impulsive decision, she decided she was going to see who lived in this castle. Areiden sent her near this castle for a reason, and knowing who lived there would probably give her some clue to what she was supposed to do. She swam to the edge of the water, then sticking to her decision, ran quickly to the wall of the castle. In an almost manic fashion, she looked everywhere for an entrance, going so far as to run her hands over the stone for a secret entryway, but there didn’t seem to be any doors. But she did finally see an open window not too far to the left above her.

Running her hands through her dark blue hair, she tried to think about how to get up there, which was about five times her height. Glancing around for the guards, she put her back against the wall, and started to search through her pack. She realized she neglected to look through it before. In her rummaging she saw some useful things, such as torches and rope, but she smiled as she spotted pitons and a hammer. She got an idea. Admittedly, she wasn’t sure it would work, but she didn’t have any other plan. So she walked to right underneath the window, and as high as she could reach, hammered two pitons, shoulder length apart, into the cracks of the stone. When she felt they were secure she began to pull herself up, and though it was difficult, she was able to get each foot on either piton, and balancing between the two, she leaned against the wall. Pushing her body against the stone, she found two more pitons in her bag to replicate what she had just done. And though it wasn’t as easy this time, she successfully hammered the next two into the wall. However, this time she was unsuccessful pulling herself up, and she fell, back first, down to the hard, grass-covered ground.

The air was taken out of Vilven, and she knew she had a bruise, but she was determined to get inside. Glancing around again, praying she wouldn’t get caught, she jumped up, and quickly ran back to the lower pitons, to pull herself up as she had done before. Attempting the second rung again, she strained her muscles, but she was successful this time, now balancing on the next two pitons. Looking down, she did realize the third rung of pitons would be rather high, and if she fell again, she would probably hurt herself. Taking a breath, she reached in for another piton, and began to hammer. The first seemed secure. Just as she went back to her bag to get the second, a rope flew down in front of her.

In a jolt of surprise and fear, Vilven looked up abruptly, losing her balance. In instinct, she grabbed the rope so she wouldn’t fall.

Dangling there, she heard a voice from the window call down to her. “I’ll help you up. Hurry, before they catch you.”

Vilven realized she had been caught. But by who?