Honorary Blogger Geoffrey Knight: The Pathfinders + Excerpt & Giveaway!
Mood Swings
by Geoffrey Knight
Welcome to our strange new world. As of writing this post, most of us are in isolation. Most of us have stopped venturing outside altogether and some of us are even in forced lockdown, unable to leave our homes at all.
This kind of isolation is going to cause mood swings.
We’re going to have our good days and bad days, we’re going to get frustrated and anxious, and…
"Fast Five" With The Pathfinders.... Celebrating 25 Years in Ministry
“Fast Five” With The Pathfinders…. Celebrating 25 Years in Ministry
1. So, The Pathfinders are celebrating 25 years in the ministry. How are you celebrating this milestone? We’re having a wonderful year. We kicked it off at Dollywood last October and we haven’t stopped yet. This is looking to be our busiest year.. By the end of December we will have done over 100 services.
2. What is the next big thing you have planned? We will be back at Dolly…
Jhinx Geosprocket stared at the departing leaders of the Pathfinder with indignant disbelief, short limbs crossing over her bosom.
“Not comped? Seriously? How‘m I supposed to have any fun around here then, huh?”
The goblin shaman let out a huff. A pity. Some of the courtesans hadn’t been bad looking, for thin-eared, soft-skinned elves at least. But she wasn’t a goblin made of money, and even if she was, she wasn’t about to spend what she did have just so some elf could drape a few more baubles between her tits. Shaking her head, Jhinx hopped off the table with more ease than when she’d climbed up on top of it, given that it wasn’t even suited for someone her size. Go figure.
“Elves can’t even provide a table and chairs for the height-impaired,” she sniffed; not that she’d actually bothered to look for any.
Still grumbling pointlessly, the shaman let her physical form fade away; people were less likely to try and charge a ghost wolf for looking at the wrong courtesan for too long or whatever. Lean-limbed, bushy tailed, and with ears just as large as those on her normal body, her ghostly form looked more like a ghost fox than anything else, but it worked for her. Clever canine snout splitting into a toothy, nearly-incorporeal grin, Jhinx set off to further explore the ritzy place.
Nose trailing low, she circled the sprawling rooms, nearly unnoticeable to those of much greater height. There were certainly a number of interesting smells in the joint, that was for certain. Drugs, perfumes, and the scent and distant sounds of elf sex. Lovely. She stuck out her long fox tongue, grimacing as she padded along on the excessively plush rugs and wove between patrons and whores alike.
Then she felt a tickle at the back of her senses, and drew up short.
“Huh.” Jhinx paused by one of the many braziers illuminating the ritzy place, allowing her spirit form fade away - and startling a set of bedazzled elvish ladies in the process. Peering up over the edge and somehow not burning her long nose in the process, the shaman stared into the flames.
“Well, hello there. What are ya doin’ in there, little dude?”
A pair of small white embers materialized within the brazier, a small flame separating itself from the rest of the fire. The tiny fire elemental crackled curiously at the shaman.
“Oh yeah? Well, it’s a good enough place for it, I guess. Ya been here long?”
A soft answering whoosh of fire and air. Jhinx glanced around, eyeing the fancy bar, scented woods ready to be tossed into the fires; incense sticks and heated oils.
“That so. Living the cushy life, eh?”
The small elemental crackled merrily.
“I can’t blame ya. But I can’t figure a lot of people people who can talk t’ ya stop by?”
Flame shook, eddies and ripples flickering in a sullen negative.
“Well hey! If ya ever want someone to chitchat with, seems like I’m gonna be around here for a while. Hit me up, m’kay? I’ll rustle up some nice hickory for ya, and you can gimme some choice gossip. What’da say?”
An excited, merry -whoosh- and crackle, and Jhinx cackled in return. Elementals were such terrible gossips.
“Atta’guy. You’re my kind of fire sprite.” The shaman dug around in one of the many bags hanging off her belt, tossing a small handful of the concoction within into the brazier- her own mixture of lignite coal fragments, cinnamon bark, dried leaves, and scented herbs. It ignited with a showy burst of flame and spark motes, drawing a few looks and even a tipsy hoot from the patrons nearby. The tiny fire elemental let out the happy -whistlepop- of a tiny firework going off, greedily gobbling up the offered treats.
Watching the motes rise - she’d have to make a quick escape, if one of those expensive looking tapestries caught on fire - Jhinx’s expression broke into a wide grin as she caught sight of some unexpected shadows hidden up in the rafters above.
“Well well. What have we here? Right- seeya later, little guy” Jhinx chirped, giving the gorging elemental a salute before fading into her ghost ‘wolf’ form.
Despite the find, hunting for the way up quickly proved frustrating. The stairs were probably just behind one of the many Sunset Blades lurking around, and there was no fun in just asking. And paws didn’t do well on doorknobs, anyway. But there was more than one way to skin a junglesaber. Circling the room again and eyeing the walls and wooden paths above, it wasn’t too hard to find a path up. Nearly incorporeal wasn’t completely incorporeal, after all.
“Pathfinders, aaaayy,” she yipped, startling a older gentleman into dropping his cigar.
Bushy tail and hindquarters wiggling a she hunkered down, Jhinx pounced; leaping up to the backrest of a chair, to the shoulders on a statuary, to the top of some shelving, before bounding off the side of the hanging chandelier, sending into a spin and-
Claws scrambling on wood, she landed in the low-hanging middle of a suspended walkway. Several others were strung about, shrouded in the rising smoke and incense coming from below. Jhinx let out a triumphant yip, before slipping back into her natural form and giving the place a looksee.
Unsurprisingly, the hidden rooms above were much less fancy, feeling more like a secret rec room than a private highroller area or even a spy base. Really, the hidden loft was a dump compared to the glitz and glam before, but if the Pathfinders were supposed to roost anywhere in this place…
“Huh. A test to find the hidden rooms, I guess,” Jhinx shrugged to herself, before tossing herself down on a small cot. Test or not, she’d probably passed. As long as it was free.
"Look a lil' lost," a voice from amongst the trees of Elwynn, the rogue witch had been out gathering herbs when she'd spotted the man seemingly wandering through the trees. - @blackwaldrogue
Abram stops in his tracks and slowly pans to the other, seeming not unlike a deer in headlights as he wasn’t expecting another to be so far in the forest. The man looks to be of a darker complexion, with slicked back charcoal hair that reaches his shoulders; full of as many charms and braids as his goatee is. The oddity only continues, as he looks to be wearing the attire of your average cowboy. Everything from the pancho, to the hat, to the spurs on his boots; with a red gypsy bandana over his head and a revolver at his hip.
He takes a careful step to the side, and clears his throat before speaking up. “Ain’t from ‘round here. Makin’ my way to Stormwind. I’m not lookin’ for any trouble, ma’am.”
February 19,1963, The Beatles, Freddie Starr & The Midnighters, The Pathfinders and Curtis & The All Stars all appeared at The Cavern Club, Liverpool, England. The Beatles had 'Please Please Me' at No.1 on the NME singles chart.
Night, and a bitter sky, and strange birds crying,
The wan trees whisper and the winds make moan,
Here where in ultimate peace their bones are lying
In gaunt waste places that they made their own,
Beyond the ploughed lands where the corn is sown.
Death, and untrodden ways, and night before them,
From sheltering homes and friendly hearths they came;
Far from the mouldering dust of those that bore them
They rest in silence now and know no fame,
No proud stone speaks, no waters lip the name.
Brave and undaunted hearts, eyes lit with laughter,
Minds that outran the ancient doubts and fears,
They blazed the track for legions following after,
And bared new treasure to the hungry years,
Till spent with strife they sank amongst the spears.
Slow sinks the glowing flame and fades the ember,
No bright star flickers and the woods are stark,
But still our children's children will remember
The swift forerunners, bearers of the ark,
Who lit the beacons in the uncharted dark.
Rich towns shall flourish on the hills that hold them,
Bright dreams shall quicken from their wandering dust,
And till the end our reverent minds shall fold them
In storied chambers free from moth and rust:
The fealty pledged, the kingdom given in trust.
