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Author: innbetween

Story Time: Five Fish (Part Two)

The second part of our exploration of How Meltyre Is Great At Fishing. (If you missed part one, it’s right here.) This story time includes an animal death. That seems obvious to say, but better safe than sorry. The animal is a fish.


Meltyre was ten years old. Still.

It was funny, he thought, stealing from tree to tree, how long it took to get to your next birthday. Theoretically, Mother had said, Dad would be home just after his next birthday. She had in fact been saying that like a mantra, and Meltyre was so sick of hearing about his birthday.

He was tired of waiting for it too, he thought, taking one last look around. Okay, the coast was clear.

Casually, he moseyed up to the magistrate’s private pond and sat down, pulling a line out of his pocket and looking for a bug to bait the hook with.

Story Time: Five Fish (Part One)

That’s right, a two-parter! We have a longer set of stories today and next month. Tune in to the newsletter next month for our next story, or join our Patreon to get it in just a week or so! All patrons get early access to Story Time every month. Let’s go!


Meltyre was eight years old.

“And you just sit still and wait for the fish?” Meltyre asked his dad. The two of them were laying on their stomachs on a bank overhanging the lazy little stream that bordered their farm.

“Just sit and wait for the fish,” Dad confirmed. “Now fish are cautious creatures. They usually like to test the bait before they eat it. So you can’t pull back on the line when you first feel a nibble. You have to wait until they actually take a bite.”

“How do you know when they take a bite?” Meltyre asked, voice hushed.

Story Time: Love, Unconditional

I was definitely in an Easter sort of mood when I wrote this one. I’m always looking for new inspiration, so if you have ideas, you can always join our Patreon! Not only do you get the first look at new Story Time and all the benefits of supporting the show, but $20/month patrons get to suggest prompts!

All right, that’s enough schilling, let’s go hang out with Tode.


The Crew—the original five plus Cybilene and Killiker—made their way through the winding woods around Touramelle, chatting as they went.

“Then our father doesn’t know we’re coming?” Tode was a little alarmed by this.

“The mail service isn’t exactly dependable out here,” Cybilene explained. “Even if I had sent a letter, we would have arrived long before it was delivered.”

“That sounds like a good way to shock an old man to death,” Zara muttered.

Rosie elbowed her. “You just don’t like surprises.”

“Don’t worry, Papa loves surprises,” Cybilene assured them.

Story Time: The Right Way

This month we are visiting our friend Sterling, long before he became a paladin. Remember, if you want me to write about something you like to suit your whims like I’m your court jester/poet laureate, all you need to do is become a $20/month Patron and start suggesting!
Now, onto the story.

Lord Samuel Whitetower was many things, but above all else, he was decisive. He knew what he wanted, and when he wanted it, and how he wanted it. He knew the exact temperature his tea should be. He knew how his sheets should be put on the bed. He knew how many quills and pieces of paper were on his desk and where they should be placed. And gods help any servant who didn’t know what he knew.

Most of all though, he knew how a young lordling was supposed to behave, and this was not it.

“Explain the events of today,” Samuel told the boy who stood now before him.

Sterling kicked one foot against the floor. His posture was appalling. When Samuel was nine years old, he knew how to hold his spine correctly. “It was just once.”

Story Time: Keepaway

Enjoy some cathartic violence towards the concept of academic snobbery!


Zara couldn’t help but feel some satisfaction at the jingle of coins in the heavy bag she laid on the Headmaster’s desk. Not that she let it show.

The Headmaster regarded the bag carefully with her beady blue eyes. “You understand, of course, that we don’t just accept any student who has the money. There are standards. Protocol to be observed.”

“The charter of your circle says that you’ll admit any student if they can meet the tuition cost and show magical aptitude,” Zara said. She’d read the charter. Best to be prepared.

“And your magical aptitude?” The Headmaster said with barely hidden disdain.

By habit, Zara took a slow breath in and out, and held out a hand. A small, carefully controlled flame flickered to life above her palm, a bright sweet thing.

Story Time: Klara

I kind of like the way cold weather sets a scene, you know? It makes the inn setting feel very cozy. In fact, perhaps that will influence our February story time as well.

If you’d like to influence February story time, I direct you to our Patreon, where for a mere twenty bucks a month, you can have my ear.

Let’s go!


Tessa wiped her brow and sighed, surveying the clean floor. It may have been a slow night in a strange town—strange as in odd, not unfamiliar—but at least the floor was clean. It wasn’t often she got the chance to properly scrub the place.

The inn had been following a trio of adventurers for a while now. It had been several years since Tessa refurbished and opened the Goblin’s Head, and she occasionally had to remind herself that it was not a normal life she was living, hopping from place to place. She rather liked this particular set of adventurers, a friendly, lively bunch. They seemed as though they’d had a difficult day, though; no sooner had the party arrived than they’d asked for their dinner sent up and gone to bed. Poor dears.

The odder thing, though, was the distinct lack of other customers. Only one or two had come through the whole day, and they had been furtive and wide-eyed, as if ordering a cider and a meal was some sort of illicit act. They hadn’t spoken to each other and they’d barely spoken to her, eating as if they were in a hurry, taking an insultingly short amount of time to savor their cider, and scurrying off.

At least it gave her time to clean the floor properly, which was satisfying even if it wasn’t profitable.

Right. A thorough scrubbing had kept her awake almost as long as a dining room full of guests, so it was time for bed. Tessa flicked the scrub brush dry above the bucket, put it in her apron pocket, and picked up the bucket to go dump it out behind the inn.

Knock knock knock.

Story Time: It’s A Party

For context on this story, be sure to listen to our bonus episode Session Zero! Otherwise it might not make much sense.

Remember, $20/month patrons get to suggest prompts for Story Time! Join up or upgrade today!


“So, what exactly is a Session Zero?” Michael asked, easing into his seat as deliberately as he did everything, with practiced precision.

“It’s like a setup session,” Teresa explained, placing her books carefully in front of her, less because she wanted them to be neat and more because she wanted something to do with her hands. Fun. This was going to be fun. “We’ll talk about our characters, and our expectations and hopes for the games.”