Goldifish

“Well, what do we do now?” Fal’s lips pressed into a thin line. She didn’t like it when Mom and Dad fought. She rather hide under the covers while her father played hide and seek with her, or play with the little wooden horse her mother whittled for her. Fal called the horse ‘Sassafrass’, the things that grew outside of her home. She didn’t know their name, but her mom said Sassafrass once, and it stuck. All of nature was Fal’s favorite thing, and she made sure to protect it. She would spend hours in the garden with her mother, hunched over the newly planted herbs and talking to them, urging to continue growing into big, hearty plants. Many people found this amusing, but neighbors were seldom rare. A relatively unknown village, filled with relatively unknown people, who relatively didn’t know each other and didn’t want to. It was quiet, which was why her parents settled there. Fal’s house never seemed to be quiet anymore. With all the shouting, Fal was lost in the screams and tantrums of the people who had created her. They never seemed to agree about anything, two rejects arguing over the littlest of problems. Fal was coming upon the age where she figured out her place in society, and even at this point, she knew she was a mistake. When her mother was drowsy from drinking too much water that smelled funny, she told her little secrets about her life, often remarking about how Fal ruined things for her. Her father did the same. Fal was content, though. She knew she couldn’t please everyone, so why be ashamed? Someone in this house had to be mature, and it seemed the adults wouldn’t. “I’m going to run out and finish gathering ingredients,” Fal called out to the two, who were too angry to really respond. Fal grasped a small basket, placing it by her hip as she wobbled out the old screened door. It gave a willowy creak as usual, groaning as if it couldn’t wait for dinner tonight. Yellow sassafrass waited on the side of the stream, only a few steps from the gate. Fal clicked the gate open, the wood faded and splintered. Meadows stretched far and wide, and the mountains were dusted at the top with snow. It seemed that there were storms brewing on the horizon, but they likely wouldn’t make it to the remote valley village. Fal heard the door slam, and naughty words were yelled back and forth. It seemed that the entire neighborhood didn’t care about the fighting pair. Normally, the people across the street would check on Fal, offer her some bread and shelter from her parents’ tantrums. Odd. After her brief pause, Fal continued toward the stream. She waded in, wriggling her toesies in the moss that covered its floor. When she was little, she was afraid of the water. She was worried it would carry her far from home, but it seemed that’s all she wanted now. Fal sighed, setting the basket on the ground and rested on her knees. She pulled the sassafrass from the stream, the humidity sticking to her like goo. Maybe the storm would hit. The dry dirt billowed out on the horizon, and the light pitter patter of rain began to sound. She hurriedly pulled the sassafrass up, and scrambled up to her feet, almost slipping in the water. “What’s a snow elf doing this far out from snow?” Her arm was snatched, and the basket hung down at Fal’s side. The man was rugged, dirty, and smelled foul. Fal struggled to find words, her mouth ajar as air passed. All she could manage was a choked gasp. “Give me your name snowflake, we’re leaving.” Fal dropped the basket. “That storm will wipe out this village. Get going. I’m going to take you with us, you seem smart.” Fal stepped forward, the stranger releasing her arm. “Fal, D- Ungerut, Fal Ungerut, llir.” “Mali’fal, you filthy elf. Make that clear to me.” “Mali’fal,” She repeated, carefully rolling the name of the elves like a spiteful slur. The stranger seemed contented, waving her off to the caravan. Perhaps, Fal got her wish. Or, she ended up off worse than she could imagine.

A reply was sent back, asking for just a location on a map. The individual said they will travel anywhere they know, regardless of bandits. A reply was sent back that they do indeed ship packages. A reply was sent back. "Ser Frederick, we regret to inform you that you may not speak with us or our leader so we may stay safe in anonymity. We do hope you will understand." thanks for the interest guys, but please shoot me a pm either on the forums or in game to let me know if your town or city will be apart of this!

(we'll know to pick it up)

Need a letter sent to your family on the other side of Atlas, but don't want to make the delivery yourself? You've come to the right people! This was left on the post board of your village, plainly written and easy to read. It advertised a free mail service! If you want mail picked up by trustworthy individuals, set a chest (or double chest) with a lock, and make sure to add Goldifish and meep999 to it. While it is free, if you want importance, you can always bribe the rider in a pm. (Just say the money was tied to the envelope) Make sure your book is titled like 'Alexa, Nordensgrad' as we need the person it's for and the place to send it to. We send rounds once every week, and our two mail men are anonymous to keep us safe from raiders. Happy mailing!

Hi, I'll make this aesthetic later, but here are some examples. Complete skins go for 900 minas. Outfits/Dresses go for 600 minas. Before and After; reshades are 500 minas or 200 for just the head. I do much better with females than males, so please keep this in mind. You can also put a bribe in there for me to do your commission first.