First Hilda had to send a message to her mom. The spell only allowed for a 30-word-message which would manifest as a dream if the receiver was asleep or a whisper in the back of their mind if they were awake. The sun wasn’t up yet, so it was unlikely Saga was sleeping. She was a productive dwarf and didn’t care to waste a single moment of darkness on idle pursuits. Hilda considered waiting until sunrise so the message wouldn't be followed by an instant reply but as a wise dwarf had once said: it’s better to do a thing than to live with the fear of doing it.

“What are you doing now?” Philly asked, balancing a huge pile of paints and brushes against her chest and clenching a stack of rolled canvases between her thighs. Burdened with so many items, her ordinarly graceful walk was reduced to the waddling of an intoxicated duck.

“Be quiet!” Hilda snapped. “I need to concentrate.”

“Yes, boss!” Philly said cheerfully. “I’ll go deposit all this stuff in our hut and then get back to help you choose a familiar. Don’t summon it without me!”

Argh! Hilda groaned inwardly. It’s my hut! Not our hut!

Hilda took a deep breath and let it out slowly to calm her nerves. Now was not the time to worry about the ghoul’s lack of propriety. Now was the time to worry about Mother.

Hilda sat on the ground, drew a circle and read out the words of the scroll.

“Blessed is the one who taught my hand to write letters.”

This was probably the shortest spell in the celestial repertoire… So why was it so damn expensive?!

The scroll disintegrated into shimmering dust and scattered in the wind. Next, the circle began to glow. As soon as Hilda would finish writing her message, a ray of moonlight would carry her words to the subject whose name was written outside the circle.

Hilda took another deep breath and wrote:

To: Great Saga Hagamid, daughter of Debur, Son of Malk, Beloved of the Moon, in the City of Dwarfs.

Her mother’s proud face appeared in the circle, almost an exact replica to Hilda’s, except with silver hair (class feature, not old age) and half a face blue with sacred tattoos. Her mother would say something nasty to her, Hilda was sure of that. She wasn’t usually a very sensitive creature, but somehow Saga always knew just what to say to leave Hilda trembling with… some emotion. Despair maybe? Anyway, better to do a thing than live with the fear of doing it.

Hilda knelt on the ground and started writing, working quickly so her nervous mind wouldn’t catch up to her finger.

Mother, I’m coming to visit next week in order to buy some obsidian for a friend. No need for a fancy feast.

It felt like a waste of money not to use the whole 30 words allotted to her, but Hilda didn’t know what else to write. Actually she did:

Best regards,

No! What the hell is wrong with me! It’s my mother!

With love,

ah, that’s better!

Hilda

After a moment, she added, just in case:

your daughter

Without going over the message, Hilda hit ‘send’ with the palm of her hand. The letters shot into the air in a ray of moonlight. Hilda took a step away from the circle. According to Gloin, a careless dwarf once stood too close to an active Message circle and the reply embedded itself on his body (though why he was messaging naked is anybody's guess.)

After about a minute, a bright ray of moonlight shone from the sky, changing the message inside the circle:

Of course, my gem. Come whenever you want. What’s that nonsense about no feast? I’ll make all your favorite dishes. I have guests, so clean yourself. And do something about

The rest of the message didn’t fit into the circle. No, wait, there was more. Hilda’s mother must have cast a Message of her own:

your braids. You look like a medusa. I don’t understand how Gloin would touch you with hair like that and when you smell like that.

Love,

Saga,

(your mom)

Hilda could answer the message, but she didn’t. If she did, it would develop into a conversation and Goddess alone knew how many first level spells Saga had. Unlike Hilda, she was a Cleric and had a ton of spells and a whole library of magic scrolls.

Well, her mother only commented on her smell and appearance. It could have been worse. There were at least three more senses she didn’t utilize to belittle Hilda. Probably more, with all her divination spells. However, insulting Hilda was a spectator sport. This was just a teaser. The main assault will commence with an audience. Preferably a male audience.

Right! Now for something fun and exciting. Summon Familiar!

Actually… Hold that thought.

Hilda decided to splurge. She had three Message scrolls. She could message someone right now and still have a spare scroll in case of an emergency. Worst case scenario, she’d buy more. It was probably the most common kind of magic scroll on the planet.

So why not invite Medvak? It would be nice to see him again. Hilda had enjoyed their adventure together, even if at the end it was a total failure. If she’d listened to him, maybe she’d be lording over a real domain and not serving as a comic relief in a stupid dungeon. Medvak was a successful businessman and could give her a few pointers. This time, she’d listen and learn.

Yes, it would be fun (and profitable) to see the towering human and his inexhaustible collection of decorative doors again. Besides, having a human guest would make her look important and successful. Miners would take her more seriously and stone giants would be less likely to step on her by mistake.

Hopefully, Medvak found himself a nice human girl and would stop hitting on Hilda in his timid, embarrassing way. If not, he probably wouldn’t try anything in her mother’s home… not that he’d ever hurt Hilda in any way, except maybe make her feel a little bad for subtly rejecting his subtle suggestions. Come to think of it, they were so subtle that maybe she’d misread his signals altogether. Maybe that’s just how humans were---

Right! Enough with the daydreaming. Hilda quickly drew another circle and wrote:

To: Medvak, son of, um... of clan, eh…

To: Medvak, with the great abs and lots of doors on his back.

The Goddess was wise. She’d find the right Medvak based on that description.

Inside the circle, Hilda wrote:

This is Hilda. Remember? The Dwarf Paladin? We explored a dungeon together? You said you wanted to see a dwarf city. If you’re still interested, come join me next week.

Ugh! So awkward! She sounded like a shy little girl talking to an adult. By the Moon, she was probably older than his mother. Humans matured at like 12, no? Nevermind, she didn’t have to impress him. He was already plenty impressed. Being a guest in a dwarf city, the dwarf city, was the closest thing to going to another planet a human could achieve without the aid of a spaceship… and humans didn’t have spaceships. No one had.

Hilda didn’t include any instructions on how to find her city but it’s not like the great cavern she was born in was a secret. Worst case scenario, he’d reply with a query and she’d use another scroll to send him a map.

Medvak was smart though. He’ll manage. If he wants to come, he will come. Maybe he was just interested in Hilda because he was lonely and she was friendly and now he found some nice humans to hang out with and had no use for a-- no! Enough! Bad Hilda! Stop it!

You have a familiar to summon. It’s important. Focus on that.

So, Summon Familiar. Hilda unrolled the scroll. Naturally, it didn't have any instructions; just the actual words of the spell, which were:

“Blessed are You, O lady, my Goddess, Maker of the Moon, who makes creatures different, who blesses the righteous with allies so they may concentrate on righteousness, for the deeds of the righteous are done by others.”

Hilda sighed. Why does everything have to be so complicated? Ah well. There goes--

“Wait!” Philly’s cry reverberated in the forest. “Don’t start without me!”

“Yes…” Hilda muttered. “No sacred ceremony is complete without a naked ghoul making lewd suggestions at the priest…”

“You can start now.” The ghoul said breathlessly and positioned herself over the dwarf’s shoulder like a tutor watching a student’s first ritual. She was naked except for that hideous new purse of hers.

Hilda moved upwind from the ghoul and her bloody purse, drew a circle on the ground (this is how most rituals started) and activated the scroll.

A beam of moonlight shone from the sky, forming an inventory in front of the two women. It was divided into three sections:

Allies

Mentors

Cohorts

Guardians

Gloin

Medvak

Bor

Saga

Neraphelia

While Hilda studied the glowing table, the ghoul snatched a twig from the ground and quickly jabbed her name. Another window opened:

Neraphelia Louloudia (A.K.A “Philly”)

Greater Ghoul Florist 1

Notes:

* This creature is Chaotic. Each chaotic cohort decreases Purity rating by 1.

* This creature is a Monster. Each monster cohort decreases Purity rating by 1.

“I told you I was good with flowers!” Philly exclaimed! “And see? Monsters can advance. I’m a greater ghoul. That’s why I’m so smart and talented. If we do enough cool stuff, I’ll become the Greatest Ghoul!”

“You cost me 2 purity points already!” Hilda growled.

“What do Purity points do?” Philly asked, not the least bit perturbed by the dwarf’s outburst.

“In order to cast a ritual, you need to have a certain Purity rating. The higher the spell level, the more Purity you need.” The dwarf shook her head. “Nevermind. It won’t be a problem until I reach 9th level.” She paused to push the ghoul away as she was drooling on Hilda’s armor. “Why did you pick up that stupid class anyway? I didn’t even know it existed. Does it at least grant you any abilities?”

The ghoul shrugged. “I don’t remember. Maybe there were lots of flowers where I grew up? Maybe I’m some kind of a spellcaster?”

Hilda frowned. “Pretty sure it would have been ‘flowermancer’ or something like that if you were a spellcaster. Can’t you check your character sheet?”

The ghoul shook her head. “Monsters can’t do that. I’m not sure I even have access to any of my old abilities. Don’t think I have any elf abilities…”

Hilda brushed the window away. “Doesn’t matter. We don’t have time for this right now. Most rituals have limited duration so let’s hurry.” She pushed the word with her hand. The table swirled and was replaced by a line of text which was read aloud by a pleasant female voice:

Please place the item inside the circle.

Now Hilda really regretted not paying attention in class. Or in life. Item, what item? If she placed something too cheap it may offend the Goddess and ruin the ritual. May even get her smitten. If she placed something too expensive… Well, that would just suck. For a moment, Hilda glanced at the ghoul. The monster looked back smugly and crossed her hands and her breasts. “I’m a cohort, not an item. Items don’t have such cute butts.”

“Hmmm…” Hilda rubbed her chin thoughtfully as she re-read the text for the nth time. “Either the item is a sacrifice, or it will be bestowed with intelligence and become my guardian… hmm…”

“It’s called a guardian,” Philly said. “Maybe it’s better to use something defensive? Put your shield in there.”

Hilda shook her head. “I only have one shield and it’s +2 to armor class.”

“How about your breastplate?”

“Don’t be silly!” Hilda snapped. “It’s +5 to armor class. Plus,” she added importantly, “if it gains sentience… I’m very selective about who gets to touch my boobs.”

“I noticed.” the ghoul said wistfully. “How about this lovely purse?”

“That abomination would get me excommunicated,” Hilda said absentmindedly. “I’ll put my helmet inside. It barely contributes anything to my armor class and I was planning on getting a new one anyhow.”

Hilda lifted her helmet and carefully placed it inside the circle. The text swirled again. This time it read:

Please choose guardian type:

Sentinel | Sage | Defender

“Hmm… I don’t need a defender because I can look after myself…” Hilda mused.

“And you don’t need a sentinel because you have a kickass ally with perfect darkvision.”

“Cohort,” Hilda corrected the ghoul. “And my Perception is higher than yours, but yes, Sage does seem like the best option.” Hilda reached for the word and then stopped. “Ugh. I hope it won’t become a know-it-all helmet that will talk into my head all the time!”

Philly giggled. Hilda sighed and finished the action.

The text swirled again. This time it was a huge list with up and down arrows, presumably to allow scrolling.

Please choose spirit form:

▲▲▲▲

Aardvark

Abyssinian

Addax

Albatross

Alligator

Alpaca

▼▼▼▼

The two women exchanged confused looks. “Do you know what any of these words mean?” Philly asked.

“Hmm…” Hilda said for the millionth time that night. “An alligator is a kind of crocodile. Gloin and I have seen one in Kwakwa. Abyssinian sounds like some kind of demon, but I doubt my Goddess would offer me a demon as a guardian…”

Hilda scrolled down the list of names to see how long it was. It was very long.

Please choose spirit form:

▲▲▲▲

Kakapo

Kangaroo

Killer Goat

King Crab

Kinkajou

▼▼▼▼

“Pick the goat!” Philly cried out. “It’s got ‘killer’ in its name.”

“Yes…” Hilda retorded testily. “Goats are known both for their sagacity and ferocity.”

“Pick one at random. Let chance decide!”

Hilda looked at the ghoul crossly. “That’s exactly the kind of chaotic bullshit that makes me lose Purity points.”

She scrolled again, this time with even more force.

Please choose spirit form:

▲▲▲▲

Painted Turtle

Pangolin

Panther

Papillon

Parakeet

Parrot

▼▼▼▼

Be advised: ritual ends in three minutes.

Hilda growled in frustration. She didn’t know what any of these words meant. She knew what a turtle was, but what the hell was a painted turtle? She recalled Medvak once boasting he had the reflexes of a panther, so she assumed it was some kind of a very slow, very ponderous beast. Wasn’t a papillon a type of structure they had at fairs and nature temples?

Be advised: ritual ends in two minutes.

“Argh!” Hilda roared and hit ‘Pangolin.’ She had no idea what it was but it sounded a little bit like Gloin, and pan meant “all” in some human language. It was also the thing you made bacon on…

The text swirled out of existence in a blinding display of moon light. Once the light died down, a small creature covered in metal plates stood in its center. It had a top hat, a monocle, a small vest and a cane. It also had a very long tail, beady eyes, and large but strangely non-threatening talons.

It blinked at the humanoids looking down at it, one with delight and the other with skepticism. After a moment it lifted its hat slightly and began to speak.

“Ms. Hagamid, Ms. Louloudia, good evening. My name is Hilda’s Helmet, though it’s something of a misnomer since I’m also an erudite manidite cenobite. It is my hope that in both capacities, namely, that of a helmet and that of a sage, I’ll be able to provide my mistress with adequate protection and good advice.” The animal bowed and stepped out of the circle.

“How are you supposed to protect Hilly? You’re so tiny!” Philly protested

“Madam, I provide legal protection,” the plated mammal explained indignantly. “Also,” it raised its long snout defiantly. “You’ll find my plates are not easy to crack. Not easy at all, madam!”