A List

A list of mostly fiction available to Luiz, for reading.  A (what I hope is) eclectic mix of authors and styles, mostly from the 20th century. This is to help him broaden his writer's vocabulary.  This is not a "best of", this is not some comprehensive master list, it's based on his personal tastes, mine, and what's on hand. My only authority here is that these are books I've already read, many of them, repeatedly.  They stand out, for many reasons, some I've explained below.  They're not my favorites.  But, they have all shaped my appreciation for the art of the written word.   This is simply a cross section of my own collection. Terse, wordy, floral, sparse.  Hardcore sex,  blood and guts, fairy tales and happy endings.  What if, what did, what will never happen. Shouting and whispering. Cheesy, rich, and velvety or a brisk, bitter slap in the face.

Ernest Hemingway

The Old Man and the Sea- Short, perfectly composed. One of the greats. One of his razor-sharp finest examples. See also his short stories.

John Steinbeck

Cannery Row-THE textbook on perfect descriptive writing.

East of Eden- his magnum opus. “symbolic recreation of the biblical story of Cain and Abel woven into a history of California's Salinas Valley.” Huge in scope, and in message. It's rambling melodrama, but in a good way.

Eli Weisel

Night- Short, intense, emotional read from the perspective of a Holocaust survivor. Emotions captured in words.

Upton Sinclair

The Jungle- published in 1906. An American contemporary at the time of Crowley. Grisly, controversial, thoroughly bitter look at the “American Dream” through the eyes of an immigrant, in Chicago's meatpacking district. The writing is complex, but it's very visceral and cringeworthy. Lots of moral choices and struggling. Dark.

Stephen King

Insomnia- Difficult journey into dream-subconscious. Dream Logic.

The Talisman/The Black House- Two books that tie into the Dark Tower series. Alternate universe, horror/fantasy.

Nightmares and Dreamscapes, Skeleton Crew, Night Shift and 4 Past Midnight- Well crafted short stories, 4 past is more novellas, but still worthy reading.

Douglas Adams

Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy- See where Pratchett is coming from. Drily funny British sci-fi. A real classic, for a reason. Grazes over deep subjects with a light step, and with humor.

Terry Pratchett

Any Discworld novel- Fantasy, excellent story and worldcrafting, hilarity. Light reading, witty, clever.

Good Omens

Neil Gaiman

Smoke and Mirrors, and Fragile Things- Short Stories. He's as random and eclectic in his style as anyone I know. Think of the difference between Odin and Anansi. The feel of them both. He captures it in his short stories. Dark fantasy.

Ed Greenwood

Elminster the Making of a Mage- Ed created Forgotten Realms. This is one of his early books. The story is good, flawed, and it's a little deeper than many D&D style fantasy. See the creation of one of the canonical legendary D&D characters, from the ground up. Well written? Not as good as others on the list, but for what it is, yes. Lots of magic and intrigue.

R.A. Salvatore

Homeland- Again, see the creation of a legend. Good fantasy writing, without being cheesy. Young life of Drizzt. Both Ed and R.A. Are pertinent to what you're doing with Wizard's Wrath. To write fantasy, read fantasy. This is where “drow” or dark elves were invented, as a race. He fleshes out a whole world. Crisply black and white, good vs. evil. A little predictable.

Neal Stephenson

Snowcrash- Wordy in a good way, cyberpunk, urban sci fi. Really great characters, interesting story blending Sumerian myth, biological virus and data virus. Completely unique story. WAY ahead of its time, technology wise.

Anne Rice

The Vampire Lestat

Memnoch the Devil

Tale of the Body Thief

The Claiming of Sleeping Beauty

Bram Stoker

Dracula- See gothic horror at it's finest. Started what Anne built upon. A more masculine version of what Chris describes as “purple prose”. Right there with your dreamy prose feel.

Thomas Harris

The Silence of the Lambs, Hannibal, The Red Dragon- Visceral, suspenseful, psychological horror. Gritty, realistic, scary, doesn't spare the readers. Exemplary in that kind of writing. Chronologically, it goes Red Dragon, Lambs, then Hannibal.

James Patterson

Along Came a Spider- the first of the famous Alex Cross novels. Maybe not the best, but a great snapshot into this style of mystery thriller, gritty, realistic, crime and suspense. Very terse, stripped down writing style. Short paragraphs, short sentences. The complete opposite of Anne Rice.

Diana Gabaldon

Outlander- Epic, sweeping, lush rich historical fiction. Time travel from WW2 England to 17^th century Scotland. A little scholarly in writing, prim, stiff, yet romantic and with lots of sex. British.

Lian Hern

Grass For His Pillow- Also epic and lush, historical fiction. Set in feudal Japan. Nice writing style, definitely a good voice. Example of an American writer sounding Japanese. Ninjas.

Marion Zimmer Bradley

Mists of Avalon

Jim Butcher

Dresden Files

George RR Martin

Fevre Dream, Dreamsongs, ASOIAF series.

Bennet's Babe

Bennet and his small troop of men were returning home from a long tour, fighting skirmishes all along the borders of a contested area.  They had been out for over a year, and were returning home to their families.  Following this particular path were a small group of men, living in Port Everlast, near Bennet.

As they approached a small shire they'd passed through before, they noticed something different.  The smoke wasn't curling cheerily from the chimneys of the stout little lodges, but rising from the roofs and fields.  The town center wasn't filled with knee high children, playing tag and weary mothers chatting at the well.  The town center appeared to be filled with rubble, at a distance.  

Instantly the men were alarmed.  They continued to the nameless town, to make camp, but they drew their weapons and moved with extra caution.  As they closed in, what they saw as a heap of rubble, was in fact signs of a dramatically one sided battle.  Halfling bodies strewn everywhere, men, women and children, adolescents cut down in their prime.  Bennet, a grizzled veteran, one accustomed to the hardships of battle, was completely overcome.  He dropped to one knee, and made some sound borne of grief mingled with shock.  Bodies...stomped, beaten, some impaled on spikes.  Clearly, this was the site of some terrible raid.  After the initial shock, the men quickly broke into teams and searched every abode for survivors.  They did a cursory search, coming up with abandoned homes, burned places, and bodies, even killed in their beds.  Whoever did this attacked with savage efficiency, this was not the work of a mere raiding party, but of born killers.  

Throughout the day, the men piled bodies in the center, on a makeshift pyre, sending blessings, and burning the dead.  As the day shifted to evening, they entered the place they were dreading to enter the most, the Inn.  Kithri's Rose, this charming little building was once called.  They feared the worst, avoiding the place, all day, knowing that the inn is where people tend to flee to, for protection in a small place like this.  They could see the door was bashed in, and just make out shapes in the gloom inside.  Upon entering the building, they were shocked to find no bodies at all, signs of a struggle, for sure, but no actual bodies.  In the last room Bennet entered, where he thought he'd probably crash and sleep for the night, as he was sliding into the tiny bed, he noticed a heap on the floor.  In the now almost darkness, he lit a candle, and found one small body.  It was a very young halfling woman, or older girl.  She had a long knife through her lower back.  Bennet, resigned with grief and exhaustion, slid her body gently onto his cloak, making ready to bring her to the pyre, when a small bundle of blankets spilled out of her hands.  In the bundle, there was a sniffle and a movement.  As if outraged from being disturbed, the bundle began wailing in outrage.  There was a baby, and by some miracle, the baby was quite alive!  Pulling the corner of the blanket aside, Bennet stared into the most piercing and alert sapphire blue eyes he'd ever seen.  Those eyes peered from under a shock of spiky cherry red hair, and Bennet knew immediately that he would kill to protect this child.  He fell asleep with her curled tenderly in the cook of his arm, and in doing so, he fell in love for life.  Kithri would ever be known as Bennet's babe.  

Random Loot Tables

Gold distribution:

3g per minion +1 for every level over the player's highest level.

Example: We killed three minions, we're level 2 and they were level 4. Each minion was worth 5 gold. Our party of five now has 15 gold to divide.

5g per basic monster +2 for every level over the player's highest level.

We killed three monsters, we're level 2 and they were level 4. Each monster was worth 6 gold. Our party of five now has 27 gold to divide.

10g per boss monster +3 for every level over the player's highest level AND a dice roll from the loot table, to see how many magical items. For a monster within 5 levels of the party, roll 1d4 to see how many items drop. For a monster MORE than 5 levels over the party, roll 2d4. These items are magical, depending on the characters level (lower level magic items for lower level characters)

THEN, once the number is decided, roll that number of d10 to establish what all was found, using the tables below.

1- magical potion

2- magical ammo (arrow, bolt, sling stones)

3- sharp weapon (dagger, short sword, long sword, great sword)

4- cloth armor

5- jewelery

6- leather armor

7-ranged weapon (sling, bow, crossbow, throwing weapon)

8-chain mail

9-blunt weapon (club, staff, mace, axe)

10- plate

Actual item to be determined by DM. Where items are held also determined by DM.

Example: Party kills Bluesnot the Vile, head kobold. The party is level 2 the boss is level 4. The party gets 16g to divide, and the DM rolls 1d4. The DM rolls a 4, so then the DM rolls 4d10 to see whatall they found. The DM rolls a 2, 7, 9, 6. So, that's some magical ammo, a ranged weapon, a blunt weapon, and some leather armor. The DM then consults the item guides to see what items to distribute (or, in a perfect world, the DM already has some idea about what said monster is holding...)

Seen in role playing: Brog the barbarian wrenches his axe from Bluesnot's soft belly, and Bluesnot crumples to a heap at Brog's feet. From off his head, you pull a softly glowing leather cap, which fit him poorly, but would fit Brog's enormous head just nicely. Also, as he falls, his club clatters to the ground, and any sign that it's been in battle disappears, and it looks somehow cleaner than it would be if it were brand new. Behind him you spy a well made, shining ebony shortbow, and a basket of brightly feathered arrows. Upon closely inspecting the bow, you see runes carved at strategic points, and the arrows seem to be already been used in battle, with fresh blood dripping from their tips, but it doesn't smear or run anywhere. When digging through his pockets, you find a heavy little pouch, containing 16 tarnished gold pieces.

Looting after a large fight

Example for our level two party of 5:

five level 2 minions

three level 3 monsters

one level 4 boss

Loot would look like this:

5x3 for the minions=15

3x5 +2x3 for the basic mobs = 21

10+6 for the boss=16

So, for the total fight=52

Divide by five party members=10.4

Roles

Kouri is a timid character, and I think I'm struggling with that, in a way.  Tasha, too, sort of skulks around, with lots of personality, but little decisive action, too.  I chose those two character styles, because I don't want to dominate the party.  Dawna is a strong female lead, Kithri would be too, if I played her.  Damona surely was.  I chose a childlike, more timid path with Kouri as a chance of pace.

I feel like, instead of role playing, at key moments, I flounder, and often fall silent.  I think I'm going to take Kouri in a more nurturing way. Yesterday, when Trigger was dying of poisoning, Kouri rushed to his side at her first chance, knelt, and poured healing into him, as a way of trying to keep him alive through the fight.  We wrapped up quickly after that, because Alden was kinda melting down, but I wanted to play that out, where Kouri pounded Trigger's back and administered a form of CPR, holding his head, while he vomited up the rest of the poisons.  I feel like she's going from "Young wide-eyed calf" to "battlefield nurse/group mom" fast, and I think I'd enjoy that role.  With level two, I gave her a feat for healing, and a daily for healing, and both are cementing her role in the group.    I just can't be some wallflower.

I'm conceptualizing a new character, too.  A surly shade bard named Satch, who goes around in long black robes, and gnomish goggles all day.  I never play classic "badboy" types, so it'll be a fun departure.  Creating him in 4th ed, but I might wind up playing him in Chris's future game, or as an NPC in my world, or something.  I really want the opportunity to play a char like this, for real, though, not as an NPC.  The concept has stuck in my mind like a fish hook.

I also kinda can't wait to play Kithri some.  She's a cunning bard, and an entirely different role playing/combat style.

It's a whole fucking hobby!

I just had an epiphany on gamers, and gaming.  We've been playing sometimes with non-gamers.  In fact, besides Chris, Luiz, and I, the C:TL game has been saddled with three non gamers.  Early on, I felt shy about talking about it at length with them in between sessions, or prattling on about things with the GM, but now I realize that this is fine and normal, for gamers.  I think that was one of the fundamental issues with that game, trying to turn non gamers, into gamers, and trying to move things around for them to entice them into it.  I really didn't get why things weren't taking off.  I understand now.

 I've been getting into the head of a lovely non gamer who's been trying to do it for the social aspect, and for her husband, who is our GM.  She said "I don't mind being there, at the table, I enjoy it.  When it comes to continuing a story, or remembering how I'm supposed to act from one time to the next, or when it comes to thinking about it in between, then I can't handle it. I lose interest."  There we have it, folks, the cry of a doting wife, trying to be a gamer.  It made everything super clear to me.   I feel pretty good, now I can relate to her reticence, I can understand now why our Seaside Point game drags.

Ian is running us through some pre-generated content.  It's great for getting to the table, and getting into action.  It's not at all story driven.  Very on the rails "Go to a town, find out a menace, go kill the menace, go back to town, plot twists...there's an even bigger menace using those little guys as catspaws".  Interacting with NPCs in town gives us some time to role play and develop our characters, but outside of that, it's basic dungeon crawling.  Which is GREAT.  What keeps it fresh is that in between times, we're constantly chatting about each other's characters, and making up stories about them, guessing about what comes next, conceptualizing, etc.  So, when we get to the table, we've already been playing it out in our head for a week or two, and we're rarin' to go.  Even if "go"  trotting (or charging, sneaking, stumbling, sauntering...) down some steps into the next room of the dungeon, kick down a door, kill a buncha monsters with panache, and loot them.

I explained it to Lee this way, "We're all actors in some great movie.  If we just showed up, read some lines, and went home to do other things for a month, till we were summoned in for our next lines...the movie would suck.  The best part of gaming happens behind the scenes, like movies.  There's tons of stuff happening around the actors, the director is planning, the scenery people are doing stuff, there's writing and editing happening.  Even actors research their roles, change their mannerisms.  Only THEN can actors walk into a full world and interact with it."  We're the cast and crew, the artists, the writers, the director, the actors.  We're building something.  We are not the audience.  Even playing from semi dry pre-printed material offers us a giant sand box to build castles, and sort out personalities.

So, with Seaside Point, half our crew is just showing up and sitting in the sand box waiting for a miracle.  Half of us are pondering, thinking preparing, storycrafting.  The rest, just kinda arrive expecting things to happen.  Which is ok, because they're not bit by the bug. They're not role players.  If we were to expect that of them, it would be forced, and unfair for them, they're not thinking on my level about that piece of paper in front of them.  Their sheet does not represent some amazing imaginary friend.  It's a reference sheet with a lot of confusing numbers and terms.  My mistake was this:  I chalked it up to being new.  It's totally not that at all.  Alden's new, but he's a gamer. He's forever talking about Dorn or Adrian, or now Nimbus (oh, holy god is he chewing my ear off about Nimbus...)  He sat  there browsing a website that sells precision dice last night for hours, exclaiming over the colors.  He's badgering me about painting his minis.  He's a gamer, no mistake, he just has to iron out his role playing skills.

Let's leave the non gamers to their movies, and their other non-interactive entertainment, and lets everyone be happy. Let me nerd it up, obsess about my character, and the minutia of storycrafting. Let me make tables of loot, tables of outcomes, percentage tables, and study the energy expenditure of razor edged dice as opposed to rounded edge dice.  Let me write my stories, and go on flights of fancy, because what I bring to the table is going to be excellent.  It'll be excellent because I've been thinking about it, in fact, last night, I probably went to sleep contemplating it.    I'm not going to pretend nonchalance, and try to water down the experience for people that aren't exactly interested in the hobby.  It's not acting.  It's not a casual social gathering.  The mistake is trying to make it out for less than it is.  RPG gaming, anything that requires core books, character sheets, and dice...that's a hobby, and an investment of time, and often money.  Many other games fall in to simpler "social event" categories like card games and board games.  This is role playing.  Showing up at a table and being led through every move by other players, is a farce.

That said, I am all for meeting once a month or so, for a casual gaming thing, that's not role playing.  I happen to love board games, card games, and all that, and I genuinely like hanging out with people.

Dawna Lionfang, Half-Elf Paladin

This will be the ongoing Dawna treatment.  Currently, this is not a background/past.  Here I'll be touching on the recent past, and the present, including mannerisms, style, and current events.  A few details from her past, including schooling and parentage will be present.

...............................................

Dawna is average height and curvy, muscular build, for a half elf.  She is voluptuous, with a rounded face, fuller cheeks, pointy chin and ears.   Her skin is fair and ivory, moving towards flushed and even ruddy when she's exerting herself.  Her eyes are a luminous bright summery leaf green.  Of all her features her large luminous almond shaped eyes and daintily pointed ears point at her mother's elven heritage.  Her hair wavy and a rich fiery auburn.  When she was on active duty, she kept it in a tidy short bob, just below her earlobes. During her mercenary days, she let it grow into soft, unkempt shoulder length waves.  During her time at the Inn, she has allowed it to grow long and thick, to the middle of her back, as befitting a lady, and keeps it pulled back in elaborate, elegant, and practical braids.  If she's spending an evening tending the inn, she'll braid precious stones, copper or gold chains, into her braid.

Her clothing is often feminine, well made, and practical.  She favors pale colors like off white, and dove grey, sometimes wearing dark greens, when she's getting dressed up.  She wears no jewelry, her only vanity is her elaborate braided hair, which she does adorn sometimes with chains and stones.  Her gowns are demure and plain.  She favors high cut necklines, often with square necks, or off the shoulder, with long skirts, slitted very high up her legs, on both sides. In cold weather, she layers soft wool gowns over a white linen chemise.  Many people think she just favors plain fashion, but the secret is that all her dresses and robes are tailored for practicality.  She's able to quickly buckle her breastplate on, and don the rest of her armor, without removing her dress, and without little details like ruffles, silly ribbons, and flaps getting in the way.  When she's not dressing for the inn, she wears men's riding clothes.  Soft, chocolate brown buckskin breechs, high boots, and a plain off white linen man's shirt, belted.  Mostly, she wears dresses, though.

She's never far from her double bladed axe.  It's a two handed weapon, with a short, stout handle.  The lower half of the handle is wrapped in grey leather.  Dawna keeps the blade razor sharp, and immaculate. She is particular about keeping the grey leather wrapping clean, supple, and in perfect condition.  She carries extra lengths of this soft, dyed leather, so she can re-wrap her axe, when it gets dingy.  She makes a point of doing this re-wrapping in a private place, away from prying eyes.  Under the wrapping, where her hands lay on the axe, there are elaborate runes carved.  She keeps them hidden from sight, and they are the key to many of her powers.  When going into battle, she connects with them, and chants their incantation, they come alive under her hands only.  When maintaining her beloved weapon, she rededicates herself to it, by tracing a bit of her own blood along some of these runes in the lower part of the handle, and whispering the ancient prayers.  This is essentially the only dogma she shows to some kind of perceived religion.  Her weapon is her religion, and she wields the ancient, symbolic, archaic thing with the same pride and reverence borne of centuries of axe wielding sheildmaidens.    

Mannerism:

Her demeanor at first seems regal and aloof.  She doesn't fall into conversation as easily as her more outgoing and bubbly half sister Kithri.  She is genuinely warm and pleasant, but has a hard time getting close to people.  In uncomfortable situations, she seems to rely on her militaristic bearing, so she becomes stiff backed and professional.  Rather, what she thinks is professional, most people find the behavior rude.  She lived a sheltered ascetic early life, and isn't exactly comfortable in large crowds, or with any kind of unnecessary attention.  When she's not patrolling the streets, working at the inn, or working side jobs, she leads a quiet comfortable life, either reading or practicing her maneuvers in her apartments, or sitting at her corner table, in the inn.  She does enjoy being around people, even though she isn't terribly outgoing.  Her training also causes her to be alert, leaning towards suspicious of people she doesn't know, especially in these trying times.  She's always wary of the criminal element.   She can take the measure of a person with a long look, and is often correct in her initial judgement.

Kouri Hotwind

Kouri comes off as quiet, antisocial, and standoffish.  She doesn't often allow people to get close to her.  She is most mistrustful of large crowds, where there's raucous men, and close quarters. She feel's most comfortable outdoors, and has a hard time sleeping or functioning within close confines, although she can adapt to most situations with time.  She is extremely shy, many judge her by her impressive size first, thinking her a fearsome creature, or those who are more familiar with minotaurs think she's proud, barbarous, and fast tempered.  None of these can be further from the truth. She is truly a child, at heart, a real late bloomer.  Kouri goes about with the mistrust and wonder of a child. Not immature, but not quite sure of her place in the world, either.

Her traveling companions are a mystery to everyone that observes.  She clings closest to a hot headed little bi-polar dwarf with a speech impediment, known only as Henry Senior, and a young scamp they call Trigger.  She alternately looks to Henry for guidance (however misguided that may be) and often tries to help steer him out of trouble.  Along with a recent companion, Dorn, they manage to avert most major fiascoes, both by soothing the dwarf, and acting as much needed public relations, and soothing the general population.  They have help in that matter from a mage named Videro.  Kouri mistrusts Videro, still, and can't help but notice that while he seems to show up to avert trouble, trouble often happens when he shows up.  She can't make heads of tails of his motives yet, but she observes.

Kouri was raised in one of the larger minotaur tribes.  Her father's family name was Blazehorn of the Thundering tribe.  Kouri's full name should have been Kouri kinBlazehorn, as her father's daughter, but well before she was born, the other males renamed him "Hotwind"  So, instead of Ahiga soBlazehorn, he was rebranded Ahiga Hotwind.  He was a great liar, and always told tall tales, from childhood.  He often boasted and spoke loudly about being the first  into battle, and of his own prowess.  The way the story goes, he died with boasts and lies on his lips.  When Kouri was very young, there was a raid on their encampment, and Hotwind turned and fled from the battle.  His hooves got tangled in his spear, and he fell upon it, killing himself in his cowardice.  Kouri's family name was forever shamed, and every where she turned throughout her whole childhood, men laughed loudly, and talked poorly about her father.  Women just stared.  Her mother, Olathe, was shown pity, and not driven from the tribe, instead she was stripped of all title and finery, and made to work as the tribe's washerwoman and latrine digger, a life of servitude.

Kouri and her mother lived on the outskirts of the encampment in a small, poor, tent, often exposed to the elements, and with little to eat, but what they could scrabble for.  Her mother was once considered a great beauty, although her mane is beginning to grey, and she has a careworn look to her.  That doesn't keep the tribe elders from raping and abusing her, like chattel.  Kouri grew up to hate and distrust men.  Her mother protected and sheltered her the best she could, but the daughter sees and hears.  Kouri came to avoid any gatherings and especially the tribe's gathering place, the longhouse.  It always terrified her, with it's hot, smoky confines, and loud noises.  Often her mother would have to go there, and pour ale for the men, and she always came back to their little tent abused, and crying.

To make matters worse, Kouri was born albino, and thought by the tribe to be god-shunned.  She was born without the rich tawny, gold, and black colors that the Thundering were famous for.  Instead, her skin is pale and translucent, her mane is pure white, and her horns are a pale coral color.  Her eyes, instead of the deep soulful brown of her tribe, are a pale washed out blue.  Her mother always told her that she was god-chosen, because she shone in the night like a star.  In her tribe's tongue, Kouri means "star reflected in the ocean".  But, her name, to the rest of the tribe was just one more thing to mock.  As she got older, and grew into her womanhood, the tribal elder's eyes began to turn to her.  Men started making comments about her body, and her mother was terrified that Kouri would be treated the same as she was.  The only thing keeping Kouri safe was that she was considered freakish, and to touch her was surely a curse.

Once, when Kouri was about 14 years old, her mother encountered an ancient elven druid, tending a grove close to where the camp had just settled for the spring hunt.  Olathe was cleaning bedclothes in a stream, beating them against a rock, when a fish swam up, and changed into a lithe, beautiful elf right in front of her eyes.  The elf knew Olathe was good, and offered her a chance.  She told her to have the tribe pick up and go somewhere else, because this grove and all creatures in it were under her care.  The elven woman who's name was Genna, wouldn't allow the Thundering to harm her children.  Olathe ran back to the tribe and relayed that information, and she was naturally laughed at.  She went back to the druid, in despair. Genna raged.  To thank Olathe for trying her best, Genna offered Olathe and Kouri a forever home with her, in her grove.  Olathe jumped at the chance to escape her difficult life, and offered herself in servitude to the noble elf.  That's how Kouri and Olathe came to live with Genna.  The spring hunt began, and tribe crashed through Genna's forest, slaying young deer, and trampling the tender shoots to the ground.  True to her word, at the first new moon, she changed into a panther, slipped into the camp, and ravaged the tribe.  She slayed Eldest, and his children, and the greatest Thundering hunters.  The remains of the tribe packed up and left shortly thereafter, leaving Olathe and Kouri behind, to what they thought was certain death.

Olathe lived out her last years in peace, helping Genna keep the grove, and her household.  In return, Genna taught Kouri everything she knew about tending the grove, and drawing primal power through herself, channeling nature's energy to help restore and preserve balance.  She befriended a wolf named Faolan, and life became peaceful and good, surrounded with the riches of the forest and loved ones, she wanted for nothing else.  Olathe passed away peacefully one night, and soon after, Kouri became restless. Genna sent her out into the world, to explore, travel, gather and "hunt" although instead of hunting innocent creatures, she began hunting knowledge, wisdom, herb lore from all cultures, and trying to find her place in society.  She's slowly learning that there's a huge world beyond her tribe, and Genna's peaceful grove.  

Kouri finds comfort in Henry Senior, because in some primal early childhood way, he reminds him of her own father, loud, brash, and in her mind, brave.  Her father was never a coward, in her eyes.  She's also happy with Trigger as a companion, because he's silent, and in many ways, a child himself.