Sincerity's Writings - The First Gig - Excrement, Brightfire's Crypt, then his Spirit

List with "gild" members enlisted in this gig:

• Sincerity: Tiefling, Eldritch Knight, scribe
• The Elf: Expert with the steel. Insists killing things is fine
• Rhym: Writer wielding steel-bridged firer with extensive tensile strength
• Jim: Eldritch being which shifts in likenesses which resemble wild living things

We met in the "gild"'s midst, where gigs were exhibited with single intent: interesting the present members with riches, then prestige.

The three experienced members present expressed their interest in my specific style with speech, with writing, then thinking.

The heels decided it might be interesting if seeing if I'd ever express myself with the evil letters will kill me. They might regret this, seeing their well-being is my epicenter within "gild" gigs.

We left the city, finding linked fiefs with ill-defined lines. Tempest-bred sliding silt by these ill-defined lines exhibited the crypt in which Sir Brightfire the Shield-Wielder rested.

The fief's lieges decided it wise if friendly sprinting decided in which dwelling Sir Brightfire's Shield were hence exhibited. We were hired by Sir Edwin's liege, while their peers' defenders were the Light Clerics, well-disciplined friendly mercs. They invited me in their resting site where we dined with fine stew like the best peers.

When the little light-specks in the night sky diminished, I stirred with extreme sickness. Evidently my intestines were being tested by the stew's ingredients. I left the resting site, relieving myself in the thicket mere meters beside the tents. The friendly mercs were in kindred distress, emptying themselves in kettles, helmets, everything which befit the swift need.

I enlisted Jim's help while still dizzy with the evident vile presence within me. Him being well-versed in herbs didn't directly let him relieve me, yet my insistent begging did in the end let him list nine ingredients which helped me fight the blight within when he distilled them in this tiny elixir, which I didn't even split with the ill peers: Rhym'd expressed the benefits we'd see in the sprint if they weren't presented with it. While I didn't think this were still the civil, friendly event if we were this scheming, I decided seeing if this were permitted by the referees'd be the better line.

There were twin referees representing the princely peers. The referee representing the frenemy seemed smitten by the very blight which'd smitten myself like the peers.

We deferred the sprint slighly, yet the shield still needed finding. We picked sides by the twin entries, seeing if we're be permitted inside the crypt. When the referee permitted it, Rhym's swift fingers let my side in, while the peers spent expensive time trying different styles in entering, which didn't permit them in with Rhym's swiftness.

It seemed like Jim didn't see in the lightless ingress, letting him light his Light which Dispels the Hiding, this eldritch device did help exceedingly when this hiding lingering spirit shifted in the light, directly visible. We first triggered this fire device, hidden by brick switches. We then decided I'd bring the crew between the crew's dens, exercising my trident's length in triggering these devices in time.

With the well-defined lingering spirit in sight, twin chests left, then twin chests right, emptied themselves. Five enemies were tested in the fight, which we left winning.

We briefly reviewed the setting, deciding it might be best if I'd switch my trident, exercising my pike's better length hence. We did indeed find distinct devices which seemed risky if triggered, yet we emerged inside the prime crypt still in the fitness we left the den with the twin chests left, then right, in.

This residence, with its high ceiling, left this single hefty chest, its lid exhibiting Sir Brightfire himself with his steel meeting his shield. We centered the mind within this crypt, when I pressed the lid beside it. We peered within, seeing Sir Brightfire, lifeless yet stirring.

It emerged within its chiseled chest, this vile serpent extending between the higher extremities. Its single intent seemed evident: Fighting. Whether it were it, were it the sprinters meeting their end didn't interest it.

Indeed, fight we did. Rhym's spell helped my pike help me hit it despite the sickness which still lived within me. My skill with the pike let me fling it whenever I hit it, which did indeed distress it when it hence hit the bricks. My peers, like myself, did their best in fighting it. In the end, it beset the Elf while besetting Rhym with twin strikes, which freed its defenses behind it, where I hit with the pike ere its twin strikes even hit. It flew ten feet mid strike, then hit the bricks entirely inert.

Rhym's eyes met the Elf's ere he gripped the shield. He seemed indecisive there, it might be like he disbelieved her integrity.

We then met the Light Clerics' chief, the single sprinter still siding with the frenemy. He certified the winning sprinters were indeed Sincerity, the Elf, Rhym, then Jim when we emerged in the entry, then he mended the hits we'd received inside.

Then, Rhym expressed the vile scheme he'd been in when he recited his precept: "Everything's fine when being smitten" (he expressed it differently, I merely tell it in my specific writing style). Me being smitten with extremely swift excrement when first light hit, indeed like his intended victims the Light Clerics seems like he didn't intend hitting me, yet he very evidently did intend the Light Clerics' infected plight.

I didn't express my belief the Cleric's plight is likely engineered, yet I hereby express it in writing, intending the "gild" will discipline Mr. Rhym with this crime in mind.

Brightfire's Shield presently sits in this prince's dwelling, yet I think it might better fit in his peer's, seeing the sprint's been held in vile times where wicked schemes were enlisted.