** contains spoilers for chapter 68 our of Small Embers D&D campaign **
When a character casts Find Steed in D&D, they summon a strong, intelligent animal in a form of their choice.
In our Small Embers D&D adventure, Augustus chose an unwieldy but good-natured war camel called Jenny (full chapter here).
But what happened to Jenny when Augustus died? The rules on Find Steed say: “You can release the steed from its bond at any time, causing it to disappear.”
So maybe Jenny simply vanished from existence when her master fell. But that’s not how good stories work. And – luckily for us – Dice Company’s listeners rarely let a plot thread slip.
Friend-of-the-show Lou Lyz picked up this particular thread, writing the following heart-warming story about Jenny, her search for Augustus and her discovery of a mysterious figure in the desert.
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“Stay here, sit down, keep watch. I’ll be back soon.”
I don’t mind the dark. It’s peaceful. I’m good at waiting. You might even say it’s one of my best skills.
It’s quiet here. I do miss the stars though. And the wind. And people. It is lonely.
It’s been a long time since I was left behind. Waiting. Dreaming. Remembering the soft breezes of the celestial desert, the touch of my master’s hand before charging into battle. The scent of it has entirely faded now. He’ll come back soon, I’m sure. Until then I will wait.
Have you ever tried an orange? I did once. It is the most wonderful thing I have ever tasted. The way the tough skin burst to drench my mouth in the sweetest juice. Each chew releasing new delights that nearly overwhelmed my senses. I danced with joy at the taste. I would like to eat an orange again someday.
I don’t really eat. Not much. I need to drink even less. But even so I can feel myself fading. It has been a very long time. I hope he will come back. But no, I will not doubt. I will wait.
A scent fills my nostrils. Have I been dreaming? I think I dreamed of the orange again, the taste of sunlight bathing me in its radiance. Someone is here! It is not my master, but even so there is a familiarity in his scent. I was so just happy to see anyone who smelled like a friend.
He patted me on the neck and climbed into my saddle. This feels right somehow. I will walk. It is like waiting, but in a different place. I tried to stand as gently as possible. My gait is strange to those not used to it and my joints were stiff from waiting.
We left together, walking into the desolation outside, my padded feet striding effortlessly across the ashen ground, his weight a comfort on my back. He seemed hurt and sick. His weight is not much. I can carry him.
By night we stopped. I grazed the tough, blasted scrub. My lips and teeth can tame even the most obstinate vegetation. It is no orange, but it filled the hollow in my stomach. My companion has no such advantage. I feel sorry for him. I believe my master did too.
He leans against me as I slowly digest my meal, covering himself with my saddle blanket and sharing my great warmth. He talks sometimes. My ears are good for listening though I do not understand the words. His sleep is broken, tortured. I provide comfort with my stillness. My great majesty provides protection against the predators that might take advantage of his weakness.
This desert is strange. People think deserts are lifeless, but they rarely are. Life just hides from the harshness of the noonday sun. This one feels like all the life has been sucked from it, the ground crunching beneath my feet like desiccated bone. Even the sun seems dimmed, its face hidden by the constant dusty haze.
He sits low in the saddle, fading. I dare not move faster lest I jostle him from his seat. I hope he dreams of oranges. So I bear him gently southwards as the land slowly comes back to life.
When we arrived at our destination I urged the people there to be careful with my companion, baring my teeth and gurgling most vociferously.
Through every shift and groan I had come to know his pains most intimately. My duty discharged I returned to my vigil, to wait for my master to come back.
I grazed upon a tree whose needle-like leaves made my nose tingle joyfully. I sneezed explosively, liberally spraying the lush vegetation with glistening ropes of phlegm. Enjoying the sensation, I reached with my lips to strip another branch.
“Hello, it’s Jenny isn’t it?”
I looked round in surprise. I had not heard a voice in my head since my master had left. Except that this wasn’t in my head.
“My name’s Petren. I just wanted to check that you were all right out here by yourself.”
I regarded the man curiously. He smelled of earth and roots.
“The grazing is quite acceptable. It is a good place to wait.”
“Wait? What are you waiting for?”
“For my master to come back.”
He shuffled awkwardly, “Your master? Do you mean Augustus?” I grunted in affirmation, “I, oh, I don’t quite know how to say this but he won’t be coming back. He died.”
“Oh.” I felt a great weight settle in my heart. No more adventures. No more battles. No more gentle strokes on the nose and meticulous grooming. Petren laid a comforting hand on my neck.
“I’m, I’m so sorry. Is there anything I can do? Can we get you home somehow?”
I thought long and hard, trying to find a path through the gloom. “Do you have an orange?”
“I, er, what?”
“An orange. The fruit. Grows on certain types of tree. Round. Tastes like sunshine. I think I would like to eat an orange.”
“Oh, er, yes. I think so. Do camels eat oranges?”
I favoured Petren with my best smile, “Jennys do.”
My mind was whirling with the revelations of the last few moments. Augustus had travelled on without me to a place where I could not follow and now my purpose was ended. And yet I was still here, not back in the celestial desert, so maybe there was something yet left undone. But what?
Petren returned with something miraculous held in one large blue hand. Even from a distance I could smell its delicious clean scent perfuming the air. I began to drool uncontrollably. Despite my grief there was still hope in this world as long as there were oranges.
I chewed ecstatically on the sweet fruit as my mind turned over possibilities savouring every pop of tangy juice and crunch of seed. At length I swallowed. I also noted the discomfort of Petren, clearly overawed by my presence.
“How is my friend? The man I brought here?”
“Korith? He’s sleeping. Rosalind is helping him.”
I nodded sagely, “That’s good. Sleep did not come easily to him. He was in a lot of pain.”
“Have you thought about what you’d like to do. I’m sure we can send you back to the Celestial Plane. Maybe… maybe Augustus is there?”
“Oh no, I don’t think so. I don’t think that’s where people go. He’s on a different journey now. I can’t carry him any further.” I gazed thoughtfully at the beautiful scene – the lush grass, the tall trees, the wide lake. It was a better place to wait than the darkness below and the juice was still sweet on my tongue. “But I can carry Korith.”
“Korith? But, but he’s dangerous! He’s done terrible things!”
I barked with laughter, “Everyone has done terrible things. But we all deserve a chance to try again. I can carry him there. He does not weigh much. I think Augustus would like that.”
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We hope you enjoyed the story. Thanks again to Lou Lyz for writing it. The story was first posted in our Discord community, the DiceCord.
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