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My writings
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Potion Ordering Form #1
Customer Name: Aika
Request: x20 Warding Brew (a protective barrier to shield something out or seal something in)
Required Ingredients: a wisp of wyvern smoke, black salt, bay leaves
Potion Success: 10 (average)
Customer Description:
Aika is a travelling merchant who originally hails from the frozen Northern region. In the present day, only a few scattered Icelandic communities can be found living in such frigid lands, as most villagers have migrated to warmer areas. Aika most often travels between her chilly homeland and the bustling city of Swordspire, bringing vital resources to her community. This includes goods such as wheat and barley. as well as cultural souvenirs from her time spent in faraway lands. Lately, her loved ones have been complaining of persistent pests occupying their gardens and poisoning the roots of their plants, including the landâs beloved field of iceberg lettuce, which has now wilted into unrecognizable shapes. Aika plans to purchase a supply of your warding brews, which she will bring to her homeland and distribute amongst her community. It is with hope that the brews shall dispel any pests disturbing the plants, bringing forth a fruitful harvest.
(This description was written during a playthrough of Witchâs Brew by NaomiWitch13 on reddit.com)
Granddaughter of Cecily Chippers reopens Sunshine Hollowâs most beloved pastry shop
After Clarissa left for the city, she never thought sheâd reopen the little bakery that used to be her grandmotherâs pride and joy.
âWhenever we were closed and my grandma was busy baking pastries, I used to sit at the cash register and make up stories,â Clarissa recalled. âI pretended that my favorite stuffed animal, a little ocelot, was a V.I.P. customer who had come to order whatever my grandma was baking today.â
After her grandmotherâs passing, the bakery closed down, and eventually, Clarissa moved to the city to pursue a career in law.
âIn law school, I stress baked a lot,â Clarissa remarked. âI was making multiple plates of cookies, egg tarts, lemon bars, and whatever else I could get the ingredients for every week. Way too much for my roommate and I to eat.â
To make sure she didnât waste any food, Clarissa started giving the pastries away to her friends and classmates. Some of them even left tips to show their gratitude.
âDoing all of this, it reminded me of my grandma and of Honeybuns,â Clarissa said. âSo, when summer came, I immediately headed back home and inquired about the space.â
The former bakery was only being used as a storage unit at the time of Clarissaâs inquiry, and the owner was happy to sell it to Clarissa and her family at a rate lower than market value after hearing about her dedication to restoring Honeybuns to its former glory.
After only a month of being open, Honeybuns is thriving. Clarissa and her employees, mainly her friends and family, work hard every day baking delicious pastries following the recipes of Cecily Chippers.
âI donât know what Iâm going to do when I have to go back to school,â Clarissa stated. âBut for now, Iâm going to make Honeybuns the best it can be to honor my grandmaâs legacy.â
Reported by April Squeakin
(This article was written during a playthrough of Honeybuns: A Solo Journaling RPG by bubbleygumx3 on itch.io)
To the unknown,
It was already late at night when Iâd finally arrived at the rundown cottage, and we were both rather hungry. Oscar is a particular bird, so he left to find some juicy worms to eat, leaving me to enter the cottage on my own. It seemed as if the door was about to fall off its hinges, and it creaked ominously as I pushed it open and stepped inside.
As I suspected, the cottage was in total disarray. Every surface was covered in a thick layer of dust, and whatever furniture was left was practically unusable in its current state. It was clear that the witch had left years, possibly decades ago, and no one had come by to visit the cottage since.
I began making my way to the kitchen, stepping around the many piles of furniture in my way. At least the singular dining chair that was there looked like it wasnât going to collapse if I sat on it. As I munched on my bread and cheese, I heard a scuffling noise at the front door.
I peered out from the kitchen to see a small, dainty hedgehog. Upon her spines were some interesting items â a silken sash, a golden button, a pressed flower. As I talked to her, she politely explained to me that she simply liked to collect little trinkets that happen to catch her eye, and had come by to see if I needed some help with cleaning up the cottage. I gladly accepted her kind offer. With the state of this place, I was going to need a lot of help.
With the hedgehogâs assistance, I cleared out the cupboards, taking out loads of unusable junk and dusting the insides with care. She even found a few things to add to her collection â an antique stopwatch, a rose pendant, and a tiny veil, as well as some items I could use to decorate the cottage.
âLook at this,â she said, holding up a flowery vase with her tiny paws. âItâs perfect for the dining table. Just add a couple of nice flowers and it will be quite exquisite.â
By the time the night had grown darker, I had an entire ceramic teapot set, two wooden bowls, and a statue of a giraffe sitting upon the now crowded dining table. The hedgehog bid farewell to me, and I listened as the trinkets upon her spines clinked softly as she nudged the door closed, leaving me alone with the eerie shadows and three very clean cupboards.
Until tomorrow,
Genevieve
(This letter was written during a playthrough of You and Your Seven Animal Friends by somewhere with stories on itch.io)
To the unknown,
They used to think that I was crazy. And perhaps they were right. I would spend days on end, conversing with the fish that swam through the creek. I could not bear the sight of my family devouring dishes of meat; they might not have known, but regardless, these creatures had names, lives, and voices of their own. How could I ever make peace with nature if I let myself do as they did?
When I grew into a fair maiden, twenty years of age, it was time for me to find an occupation. Many in my village who were of a similar age had found work as apprentices to successful craftsmen. My father had connections, but they had all rejected me, deeming me too strange and aloof to make a good worker. My family was furious, but I didnât mind. I had never really liked other humans much anyway; I had always preferred the company of the forestâs animals and critters. Regardless, I still needed something to do with my life.
I had been talking with a little friend of mine, a blue jay named Oscar, who told me about an abandoned cottage in the woods.
âThe witch who inhabited that place is long gone,â heâd said. âIf you fix it up real good and clean it real well, it could be quite the cozy place to live.â
Thus, the very next day, I set off to find the cottage, accompanied by Oscar and armed with several dayâs worth of food, cleaning supplies, and other tools. I didnât know the first thing about fixing up cottages, but Oscar assured me that he and all of my other forest friends would be around to help. I am rather excited to be on the verge of making such a great change in my life, and I do hope to be getting to the cottage soon.
Yours truly,
Genevieve
(This letter was written during a playthrough of You and Your Seven Animal Friends by somewhere with stories on itch.io)
To my favorite (and only) brother Herman,
Has it already been a month? The days are lovely here, but I do miss those rolling fields and azure skies. Percy is a fine gentleman, but he does not understand the allure of the country trails. Every night, I yearn for our twinkling stars. Here, there is too much light for the stars to show. The lights are fascinating, yes, but they cannot guide us home like the stars do.
I await your news from the farm. Has Sweet Pea given birth yet? Baby lambs are just the most adorable thing, and I wish I could be there to witness the birth. Is everyone well? And do you still fancy that city girl (Darla, was it?), the Andersonsâ daughter? Please write back soon. I miss you greatly.
Your favorite sister,
Sarah
My dearest Gertrude,
Our trek up the mountain has not gone as smoothly as we had hoped. The sky was mighty clear, yet it swiftly gloomed as we ascended to the first camp. Now we have turned back to Helgaâs inn, and I am sipping on some caramel ale as I write this letter to you. I hope your new start at life is going well. How is my little granddaughter? Tell her Nana misses her greatly, and that she thinks of those chubby little cheeks every day and every night. Now I must retire to bed, for we are trying again tomorrow. Please be good, my dear. Donât lose sight of this opportunity to make amends with the Holy Spirit. Take care, my sweet girl.
Farewell,
Your lovely mother