Sleeb the Napping Blade

Lying on her back, Sleeb played with Milton, her cow plush she had made, and Boris, her favorite elephant plush. She was on the floor of a ship, one that he just been in quite the battle. Yet she seemed calm and care-free as usual, despite the fact that Castian had just barely saved her from being crushed to death that very day. The island Keep of Zhents had come into view, and she had packed her things to get ready. Her Rapier rolled back and forth on the floor boards neck to her, as she made voices for the stuffed animals. Her pointed ears twitched with each creak of the ship, and she watched everyone as she played, out of the corner of her eye. Everyone was so serious all the time, and she wasn't sure that they were all very nice people, but she had signed their contract. She was park of the Art Blades now, What kind of blade should I be?, glancing to her Rapier, she pondered. Maybe the 'Playful Blade' or the 'Twirling Blade'...

The House of Tiefling

In the City of Splendors, deep within the lands of Faerun, there is said to be a building known as the House of Tiefling. Most only know the rumor, not the location, as Waterdeep is a massive metropolis to be sure. It is said the house is home to at least two dozen of this children of demons, and its run by two elderly purebred tiefling. Tieflings born of a pairing of the creatures. In this house, there are an odd mix of the monsters, but each is raised with love by the two at the top. It could almost be called nurturing, so much that many of the creatures that live and grow there are more often neutral than not. Some mad whisperings even tell of good tieflings that have been raised in such a home. A man recently said that a friend of his cousin gave birth to one of those demon spawn and got a missive telling her to leave the child warm and dry on her step on the next full moon. The next morning the babe was gone without a trace, been gone for a tenday now. Shh, here come the Watch, the Cap'n would love to find and drive them out...better head home now.

The Town of Statha R'glin

Quiet on the outside, as the sun sets, in each house there is something well hidden from the world. A little dark haired half-elf arranges the skulls of small monster and animals under her bed as her adventuring gear hangs where her mother can't see it. "Ten years of age is no age for an adventurer!" fresh in her ears.
A traveling mute bard hides the cats in his room as he studies local lore one mages able to lift curses.
A maiden enters her room swiftly after a men approached her for a casual chat, she locks the door and picks up her sword, twirling it once she begins deft swordplay in order to calm her nerves.
A doppleganger child stares out the window of his human parent's home, wishing for his own identity.
The Dwarven Blacksmith closes his eyes as he releases a hawk to his family, hoping that no one finds out he's been keeping in contact from the kingdom from which he was exiled.
The local Oracle closes her small temple's doors, mentally begging to know how she makes predictions.

As all the lights go out in this town, unified cry goes up from the hearts and minds go up from the villagers, "Where is my hero with the answers?"

The Noble and the Sly

"Oh, you are such a villan! Tell me again!" Her pristine amber eyes glittered with naive excitement, petite uncalloused hands grasping at his, "Tell me again!"
He grinned a bit, his yellow eyes taking their time up from her soft small hands to her face, not pausing on her breasts, no, he was a gentleman, "But I have told you it so many times, Miss!" He kissed her fingers, right before the knuckle, no need to rush, she blushed and giggled. She was a lovely human, stunning, radiant like a Celestial. Her blond hair was curled and framed her face like a halo, no tan marred her perfect skin, the blush was like a dollmaker had gently rubbed the paint onto porcelain. "But alright...once more." He told her of his exploits, the most notable was her own father, a governor of the local province, proud and rich. How he hurt no one, but took all that he found in the carriage. The daring swing in and knocked out the guards, he paused in all her favorite places.
He knew she would ask again this time, "And what have you spent it on, sir?"
This time his smiled his most dashing, knavish grin and pulled his treasure from his pocket, "Nothing...but a trinket for my most enthralling fan." She had asked him every time if he had spent it, if he had bought something this time. She had watched his face, wanting to know what glorious magical baubles he had bought to help his dangerous ways. He had not wrapped it in a box, no, he gently pinched the chain from inside the pitch of his pocket and carefully pulled it up so he could see the joy build upon her face as more and more of the treasure until the jeweled star on the end showed. She nearly screamed, nearly swooned, her face grew flush. He father could give her a jewel such as that and she would stow it away in her box forever, but such ill-gotten pleasures caused her such a thrill.
"Its like you plucked it from the stars!" She grasped it to her chest, to her young bosom, her face was flushed as a budding rose. "Oh, you knave! Please, let me go out with you next time you..." She lowered her voice dramatically, looking about from the hidden alley in which they hid their meetings, "preform your deeds?"
Another grin, he winked and touched her forearm, near the elbow, she gasped and smiled yearningly, "My dear, my life is far too dangerous for someone of your status! I must steal these thrills more sparingly than gold, if your father foun--"
"The dragons take him! I love you, Melech!" She grabbed him with a force and need that caused him a huge flare of desire, he could only stare in pleasure.
But he would not rush this, there could be no regret, "And I, you, Coretta, my jewel! My pure white rose..." He gently took her soft hands from his ruffed shirt and touched her face, "But one of your purity...no, my dear. I could not soil you."

A trill came from a few rooftops away and they both looked up, pain and awe on the girl's face, "No!"
"Yes, Coretta, I will come again, listen for the Nightingale!" He pulled himself away with effort and left her there to wind her way back to her mute guard. Burning for him.

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A bit of backstory for a NPC in Justin's campaign, and my attempt at some steamy, yet slightly cliche' old romance novel style.

Fireheart the Fire-Eater

I've been having a desire to write, but no inspiration on what to write...I hate being bored...