"Pathfinder, Vol. 4: Origins" by Various Authors

BOOK TITLE: Pathfinder, Vol. 4: Origins

AUTHORS: Various

YEAR: 2019

GENRE: Graphic Novel

SUBGENRE: High Fantasy

GRADE: B

It’s a good thing that this book has the Pathfinder name attached to it, because these individual stories of each adventurer read like a session zero from a tabletop RPG. You’ve got a warrior, a cleric, a wizard, a sorcerer, a thief, and a ranger recounting their origin stories to the head of the Pathfinder society in order to prove their worth to her. They start off with a quest or a job of some kind and end with either a life-changing revelation or a desire for more adventures. This is basic character building 101, especially when creating new ones to use in role-playing games. It doesn’t have to be overly complicated, but I appreciate the authors putting in the extra work to make them feel fleshed out. That’s part of the fun in playing a pencil-and-paper RPG, which also overlaps with being an author. Fun is the number one priority of any gamer, but playing D&D or Pathfinder can be training for budding authors wanting to break into the industry. It doesn’t have to be the end goal, but it could be if the player or DM wanted it to be.

Having said that, I do wish the more dramatic and heavy parts of these stories had more time to breathe instead of just bolting from one scene to the next. The wizard discovered that he comes from a family of ruthless slave traders and wants to abandon them. The monk who hires the thief wants to rescue his sister from being traded like a slave herself. The barbarian who saves the fighter’s life has a history of surviving horrible violence. These moments shouldn’t be glossed over so quickly. They need to be drawn out. They need to be expanded upon. Otherwise, it’s over too soon and it’s a wasted chance to make the reader feel everything that’s going on. Sherman Alexie, the author of War Dances, is a master of making everything feel important and heartbreaking. I don’t get that sense when I’m reading this graphic novel. It could be because it’s a graphic novel and they’re fast reads by nature. But still, I would have loved to spend more time in these heavy moments to make the characters feel even more human than they were before.

The closest I got to feeling anything for the characters was Kyra the Cleric’s story. She serves the god of redemption and yet finds nothing redeeming about the prisoners she and a paladin take with them on a rescue mission against blood-sucking demons. Her hypocrisy is a major character flaw that makes her feel three-dimensional. And it’s her experiences with the paladin that make her overcome this flaw. Not all redemption takes place on its own. Sometimes we all need somebody to show us the way. We as people don’t often know that we’re making mistakes or going down a bad path until someone else points it out to us. It’s what we do with that information afterwards that will make or break our redemption arcs. That makes a lot of sense to me and it’s why Kyra’s story is my favorite out of all the ones I’ve read in this book.

Overall this was a fun graphic novel to read. Even if you don’t play tabletop RPG’s, you’ll get some enjoyment out of this as a standalone fantasy story. Yes, I know it’s the fourth volume of a much larger series, but it stands out enough on its own that the reader won’t be confused about which part of the story goes where. That’s what good books should do regardless of where they are in the series: stand out on their own and not have to rely too heavily on their back catalogue for vital information. Pathfinders Origins gets four stars out of five. Not perfect, but ultimately a nice way to spend some alone time with your nose in a book. Well done to everybody who was involved in the making of this story from the authors to the artists.

A Bastard Sword in a Haystack

Butterflies flapped all around Elizabeth Dempsey as she laid on her back with her hands behind her long brown hair. With the comfort of the grass beneath her, she nearly drifted off into dreamland in this forest she called home. The only thing that kept her awake was one butterfly landing on her nose and flapping its golden wings. Ticklish as that sensation was, she let it slide. She smiled at the heavenly nature around her. The tallest trees protected her from the outside world. The butterflies were her best friends. Occasionally a squirrel would run up to her and she’d feed the little guy a handful of nuts. If not for her ranger duties, she could sleep here forever eating berries and veggies.

And then the distant sound of boots tromping on the ground startled the butterflies and squirrels. They sped away to higher ground while Elizabeth’s eyes were wide open and filled with frustration. “Goddamn it,” she said to herself. She fixed her green cloak, brown tunic, and green baggy pants before snatching up her bow and arrows and nipping up to see what the fuss was about. The longer she stalled, the louder the boots became. “Show time.” She pulled her hood over her head and scaled the nearest tree with the dexterity of a cat.

With one arrow plucked from her quiver, she pulled back on the string ready to fire at a moment’s notice. Whoever disturbed her peaceful new age moment was getting an arrow to the chest if he didn’t have any quick answers. The thumping grew louder and more intense, so much so that Elizabeth almost fell from her perch. “Come on, you big goof, get your butt over here so I can shoot you already.”

And then the source of the noise appeared on the dirt trail huffing and puffing, his massive palms engorging his kneecaps. Elizabeth couldn’t believe her eyes, even going so far as to lower her weapon. This clumsy oaf was at least seven feet tall…and he wore a purple ninja mask, no tunic to cover his muscles, and only tight-fitting purple pants and a pair of metal boots to barely cover the rest of him. “A walking contradiction if I’ve ever seen one,” said Elizabeth under her breath.

The ranger dropped down and landed perfectly on the soles of her leather boots, thinking she was at least a little safer than before. “You made a mistake coming here, my friend. You ran away from one problem and now you find yourself in another. All I wanted was some peace and quiet and you pissed that all away for me. Give me one good reason why I should stick one in that goofy-looking chest of yours.”

“My apologies, ma’am,” said the giant ninja in a stereotypical bass voice, placing his hands together prayer style and bowing to her. “I am Antonio Fujiwara, at your service. I didn’t mean to disturb you. I just need a place to hide, that’s all.”

Keeping her hand on her bow, Elizabeth held her fists against her hips and gave Antonio a pathetic look. “A seven-foot tall ninja wants to hide from whatever was chasing him…in a forest full of nothing. First of all, why is a mountain of muscle like you running away from somebody who’s probably shorter than you? Wouldn’t it be easier just to snap his neck and be done with him?”

“It’s not just one person, ma’am. It’s…quite a few.” Antonio fidgeted with his sausage fingers. “I’m being hunted by the Scorpion Clan. Being tall doesn’t mean anything when you’re being hunted by them. They’ll kill me if they find me! Please, you’ve got to hide me!”

“Hide you? I don’t know, Antonio. Seems like the Scorpion Clan is looking for a bastard sword in a haystack. There aren’t a whole lot of good hiding places I can think of for a guy your size. You probably can’t climb a tree and stay there. The caves are too small. The bushes are also too small. Looks like you’re shit out of luck. Now beat it before these Scorpion Clan guys involve me in your mess too.”

A flying dart pierced Antonio in the small of his back and he stumbled around like a drunk, slurring his words like one too. Elizabeth backed up in worry as the giant ninja’s intoxicated dance led him to grab a handful of vine berries in a failed attempt to keep himself hoisted. He collapsed on the ground with a resounding boom and snored his way to the subconscious theater.

Elizabeth pulled on her bow string as several shorter ninjas in red and black uniforms leapt out of hiding and enveloped her in a broad circle. Each ninja was armed with shurikens, which meant a ton of holes in Elizabeth’s body if she tried anything funny. Their hoods and masks covered everything but their eyes, which burned with disciplined fury. In other words, they didn’t come to this forest to fuck around. “Drop your weapon,” one of them commanded, which Elizabeth slowly did.

“Look, I don’t want any trouble. This giant oaf came to me, I didn’t come to him. I just wanted to take a nap and then he comes rolling in…”

“Silence!” belted the ninja. “You’ll have plenty of time to take a nap if we find out you were harboring this fugitive. Stealing money from us was Antonio’s first big mistake. Being stupid enough to come here looking for refuge was his second. Then again, he never was very smart to begin with.” His cohorts chuckled.

“You know what? You’re right. He’s not very smart. Just take him and leave me be, okay? Can we make a deal?” begged Elizabeth, her hands held high.

“You heard her, men. Take this gargantuan mongoloid away,” said the lead ninja. It took the strength of several ninjas to lift Antonio’s massive body and even then they were grunting and groaning. They almost dropped him on his head a few times while the lead ninja continued to hatefully gaze into Elizabeth’s eyes. “Unfortunately for you, we can’t make a deal. You’re a witness. I can’t leave any witnesses.”

“No, no, no, don’t do this! I’m begging you!” said Elizabeth as she got on her hands and knees. The ninja had his shuriken ready, but the pleading was just a cover up as Elizabeth grabbed her bow and arrow and shot the lead ninja between his devilish eyes. The shot was so stiff that the ninja’s entire brain fell out the back of his head.

“You bitch!” yelled one of the ninjas as they dropped Antonio.

Elizabeth and the ninjas stood across from each other at a stalemate, a bow and multiple arrows versus god knows how many shurikens. She knew this was a fight she couldn’t win, yet she had no choice now that she crossed the Rubicon. It was all a matter of which ninja would die first. They all looked the same. They all talked the same. But only one of them called her a bitch. Would he be the first to go? Decisions, decisions. At least now she would get the peace and quiet she desperately wanted. Did they have butterflies in heaven? Would she even go to heaven in the first place?

She didn’t have to make the tough decision after all. That decision was made for her when Antonio nipped up and slammed the ninjas’ heads together, concussing the guys on the edges and exploding the skulls of those in the middle. “Take the shot!” yelled Antonio. Elizabeth did just that. Whoever remained after that head slam took a series of arrows to the chest, knocking their hearts and spines out of their carcasses. Antonio chucked the dead bodies over the bushes and into a ditch. He didn’t break a sweat doing it nor did he need a firm grip on anywhere but their ankles.

After the dust settled, Antonio removed his ninja mask and smiled at Elizabeth, who smiled back at him. He said, “The poison these geniuses used in their dart was too low a dose for someone of my size. If they had any brains at all, they would have used a bigger dart. Maybe they could have used a bastard sword in a haystack. Plus, those berries I grabbed were a perfect antidote.”

“And you’re supposed to be the dumb one just because you have a deep voice?”

“Well, I did lead all of these jerks to your forest. That alone wasn’t very smart. Sorry about that. Now I’ve got you involved in my problems.”

“I don’t mind at all, Antonio. In fact, I wouldn’t mind hunting down every last one of those Scorpion Clan jerk-offs. The way I see it, they were going to interrupt my peace and quiet one way or another. Might as well strike them before they strike me. If they really are dumber than a giant with a deep voice, then they’ll fall for my begging and pleading trick again. Heh…like I’d ever beg for my life for those dweebs.”

A still wobbly Antonio wrapped his arm around Elizabeth’s shoulders and said, “You and I make a pretty good team, don’t we? Kind of like brains and brawns, right?”

“Well, to be fair, those ninjas have brains too. They just happen to be splattered all over the ground right now. So what do you say we stop running from the Scorpion Clan and start racking up a body count?”

“You can count on me!” Antonio gave a playful slap on Elizabeth’s back and unintentionally knocked her over. He apologized profusely as he picked her up and dusted her off.

“Okay, maybe you are just a little bit thick in the head, but we’ll work on that,” said Elizabeth with a playful smile.

Dennis Michaels

My mind may be a raging ocean all the time, but Dennis Michaels never saw his moment in the sun. He was originally supposed to be a part of a third act in Brawl Mart. That third act never materialized and Brawl Mart only had Occupy Wrestling and Filter Feeder to account for. That would-be third act was supposed to be called Debt of Pain and it centered around a panicky debtor named Lillian Floyd. Lillian got calls every half hour about how worthless she was and how she was going to jail if she didn’t pay what she owed. She tried calling the police on these people, but that went south in a hurry when the two detectives got their asses kicked. Instead of relying on people who waited forever to get approval from a corrupt judge, Lillian called the one man who could deliver beatings and assassinations like he was the UPS of murder. His name was Dennis Michaels and he was at one point an Army Ranger. The original plan was to have Dennis perform his duties and then at the end rip up his paycheck from Lillian before falling in love with her. Somewhere along the way, the storyline got scrambled and I couldn’t justify a lot of the action that was going on in the story. That should have been the end of Debt of Pain, but it wasn’t. I pitched this idea to Good Reads and they helped me make the modifications I needed to start anew. Starting anew meant new characters, something Dennis Michaels was not. You may see Debt of Pain on my Smash Words account someday, but not right away, and not with Dennis Michaels. The mercenary in this new idea is named Bryan Grant. The difference between Dennis and Bryan is that Dennis is a legitimate mercenary who will lay the smack down on any rude collection agent, while Bryan is a scam artist who sits around and collects paychecks from desperate debtors, who think he’s actually going to assassinate somebody rather than work for the agency himself. Bryan Grant will get his due justice somewhere down the road, but somebody else who needs justice is Dennis Michaels. Mr. Michaels had all the promise in the world to be a kick-ass character. He would have been a beefy warrior and a romantic Romeo all rolled into one. He would have used his rifle (which was for fighting) and his gun (which was for fun) over the course of one day. How exactly is he supposed to do that if he doesn’t have a story to be a part of? Ruthless mercenaries and hard lovers aren’t easy to come by. The only example I know of who fits this profile is Cloud Strife from Final Fantasy VII. Then again, Final Fantasy games always have a romantic element in them. Will Dennis Michaels be the next Cloud Strife? Hopefully, yes, but without all the emo bullcrap Mr. Strife displayed in the movie Advent Children.

　

***TELEVISION QUOTE OF THE DAY***

“That badge better be real or else my friend’s going to kick you in the FBI-balls.”

-Marty Deeks from “NCIS: Los Angeles”-