A plot based on a dream or current events.

The group that concludes of Mystra; {Dark-Queen, my twin-sister} Lord Cyrus-Emery, known as “Wolf-Gang,” Phoebe Shadow-claw known as “Shining-One,” Luna; know as a Mage, people call her, “Spirit-Walker,” Aurora known as “Leviathan,” Sophia-Goddess of all, known as “Moonbeam,” and myself, Raven-Wolf, known as “Ice-Spirit⛄.”

About the Author:

Author/Creative-Writer/Blogger

“Kathy Frizzell.” Legal name: Chantel Inch.

The High Princess-Druid, a skilled artificer celebrated for her craft-writing and known by such aliases as Blood-Hunter, Dem-Goddess, mythic-hybrid, tri-bird, electric-witch, Luna-witch, known as a {Shadow-Witch,} vampire, and wolf-eyes shining purple, with her shifting powers, freelance-author, and creative-blogger activities ranks among the most significant figures, as does the Cleric-Truth, an angelic-soul individual also known as Germanic-Tribe and by the evocative name “Ice-Spirit.”

Uncover the realm of writing.

Written with passion, these stories will touch your soul.

This endeavor’s pursuit demands you allocate a considerable amount of time, the vast majority of which you will use to immerse yourself in depth in the detailed contents of case files, some of which are captivating while others are profoundly disturbing, as well as a series of interviews, each of which will move you closer to the complete picture.

Pseudonym “Kathy,” though my legitimate name is Chantel.

The diverse species includes the Dimi-god, shapeshifter-owlin, loxodon, feral-Tiefling, goblin, kobold, fairies, three-headed hell hounds, skin-walkers, lizard-folk, witches, warlocks, mythological creatures, wolf, coyote, bear-folk, triton, yuan-ti pureblood, dark elves, goblin, and human, showcasing a wide range of mythical and real-world beings.

With the deepest sincerity and gratitude in my heart, I want to express my heartfelt thanks to my family, whose unwavering love, unwavering support, and constant encouragement have been instrumental to my life's journey. I owe my recovery from a double stroke and my ability to celebrate the publication of my first novel to the unwavering, twenty-four-seven support of my sister-in-law; without her tireless help, I simply wouldn't be alive today. In pursuit of my dreams, I began a challenging and extensive quest, and ultimately, I emerged successfully, my spirit soaring like a phoenix reborn from the ashes of past disappointments.

Dedication:

I want to express my sincere gratitude, prayers, and deep appreciation for your continued support over-the Years to come. As a survivor of a double stroke, I highly value each day and try to leave a lasting legacy. I’m very thankful for the support my sister-in-law has given, which I truly appreciate. With all my love, I want to dedicate this message to my amazing children, Alyssa and Ian.

In this story, the main character holds a significant position and drives the narrative forward. Three distinct figures—the High Priestess-Druid, the Artificer (Blood-Hunter), and the Cleric-Truth (Germanic-Tribe)—are characterized by their multifaceted roles, rich traditions, and unique practices.

Cascading down my back was my long, vibrant blue/green hair, known as "Raven-Wolf," known as "Ice-Spirit," a dramatic contrast to my pale white skin and the striking purple eyes which seemed to possess an inner light.

Overlooking my family's ancestral home, just beyond the hills, sits the town of East Dusty Ridge Island, a town which is near the magnificent and historic Athkatla castle, a structure of breathtaking beauty with views across a significant portion of Eastern Europe, and this town is dwarfed by the castle's majestic presence.

Attire; hooded-cloak, made of white-tale dear skin, of dark purple-green, leather ripped pants, top color-royal blue with a strap around the neck and shoulders, family-crest brooch, my boots produced of indigenous-snowy owl mukluk sheep-skin.

With my pouch, I carry weapons like {short-blades, wand, my journal made from leather, papyrus-treated animal skin, fountain pen-feather, pencil, tankard, utensils, bedroll,} and Druids gain proficiency in skills that reflect their connection to nature and Wisdom, while Blood Hunters focus on skills that enhance their combat and investigative abilities, and Clerics lean towards skills that support my own divine power and knowledge.

I move with a graceful coldness, fearless, god-like power aka demigod — an aloof and imperious air, a subtle chill emanating from me that keeps others at a distance.

I'm a "Creative-Writer, Blogger, to taking one step a day, as I leave my foot-prints behind, as a Freelance-Author," and chronicle my progress under the pseudonym "Kathy," though my legal name is Chantel, fallowing my dreams and goals to never giving up to having a second chance of life, whose articles on criminal psychology often leave me pondering the complexities of the human psyche; and mythological-creature knows how, as I tap-tap-tap of my keyboard is the soundtrack to my investigations.

The work is time-consuming, demanding immersion in the complex details of files—with their intriguing but sometimes disturbing contents—and interspersed with interviews, each interview providing another piece of the puzzle in the quest for truth.

It all takes place; overlooking my family's ancestral home, just beyond the hills, sits the town of East Dusty Ridge Island, a town which is near the magnificent and historic Athkatla castle, a structure of breathtaking beauty with views across a significant portion of Eastern Europe, and this town is dwarfed by the castle's majestic presence.

Cozy by the fire on this stormy night, listening to the rain on the castle roof, I’ll tell you a soothing horror story that will keep you on edge.

Since that has now been said, I will allow your imagination to run wild, as the convergence of worlds will take you on a remarkable journey.

Even a quick break from your current work to focus on something else would be appreciated. I am preparing to share with you a very personal experience: that of observing a dead-letter, an experience that serves as the primary motivation for the journey we are currently engaged in.

According to the ancient ones, the vital life force of a person was carried within their blood. Those offerings included sensations of fear, experiences of pain, and the stimulating effects of adrenaline.

These modern rituals are not something that has never occurred before. Their current actions can be seen as an ongoing extension of a practice with roots reaching back to the earliest days of civilization itself.

If you were to take a temporary pause from your ongoing tasks and instead direct your attention to a different matter, it would be most welcome. The primary motivation behind the journey we are currently taking part in stems from a very personal experience I am about to share with you, and that experience is observing a dead body.

That this isn’t the first time I’ve discovered a lifeless body is a haunting reality, and it lingers in my mind. Do you remember the time when I mentioned my parents in our conversation? Therefore, the aforementioned thing or idea has been completely displayed or explained.

Because of the evocative power it holds, enabling it to summon mental images related to both blood and criminal acts, the act of including the word sounds, specifically those that originate from the Dark Hollows and the cries that are heard from within the City, essentially serves the purpose of calling out my name, which is known as “Ice-Spirit.”

As you can clearly see, my strong desire to discover the truth drove me to become the only individual who, without notifying my friends, stealthily slipped away. What have I gotten into now, as I, Raven-Wolf, otherwise known as “Ice-Spirit,” interjected the phrase, “Oh, fuck?” Now that I have found myself in the Forgotten Realms, I’m ready to tell you something that I’ve been keeping secret for many years.

Phoebe Shadow-claw, known as “Shining-One,” spoke and said: {what the fuck are your talking about, we were to stay in our rooms, as she was speaking, remembering that time, the head-master, with other teachers order us to lock up to staying in our rooms.

As you knew that something or someone was making the “Tormentors” — supernatural spirits that feed on fear, and protect the students on the White-Tower.

Despite her existing awareness, while each of you was simply carrying out your assigned tasks, the overwhelming curiosity of Raven-Wolf, otherwise known as “Ice-Spirit,” took control, and the result was what she ultimately uncovered.

While Raven-Wolf, otherwise known as “Ice-Spirit,” was traversing the clandestine stairwell, she discovered an unlocked door, and upon venturing inside, she observed the intriguing phenomenon of mirror reflections, but these reflections were not of herself; instead, they depicted alternate versions of herself from a parallel universe, leading to her being unexpectedly drawn into it.

After the fog of unconsciousness lifted and I became fully alert, the gravity of my circumstances became strikingly clear, revealing that the situation I was experiencing was anything but ordinary, especially because I was inexplicably within a dorm room that seemed to belong to a divergent reality, markedly distinct from the one with which I was familiar it was my room.

Rubbing my eyes as my dream faded away, Raven-Wolf, who goes by the alias “Ice-Spirit,” awoke from my rem-sleep and observed an individual standing near the entrance. Just before I was about to respond, I took a quick look at my reflection, only to be shocked when I realized that the image staring back at me was not my own.

While I was waking up and attempting to clear the sleep from my eyes, the knocking at the door became more insistent, and upon finally opening the door to discover the source of the sound, we were greeted by Luna, who goes by the alias of “Spirit-Walker.”

With a tone of disbelief and frustration, Raven-Wolf, who is also referred to as “Ice-Spirit,” voiced the phrase, “What the fuck.” I just woke up.

The urgent summons from the head-master, which directed all of us to gather in the mess hall and was emphasized by the abrupt announcement of “NOW,” meant that there was no time to even consider dressing in my robes.

With everyone gathered and seated in the mess-hall, it has become apparent that something is interfering with the entire school, leading to explainable loops that inevitably challenge the very definition of logic.

Phoebe Shadow-claw, known as “Shining- Luna; known as a Mage, people call her, “Spirit-Walker,” Aurora known as “Leviathan,” Sophia-Goddess of all, known as “Moonbeam,” we were ordered to our rooms, and they all came to my room close the door quickly we were about to disobey the order because now that Raven-Wolf, known as “Ice-Spirit,” was fully awake, she remembered her nightmare or déjà vu.

This very location is where the initial onset of the terrible nightmare dreams took place.

As I was sitting under a weeping willow tree and writing in my dream journal, with no warning whatsoever, a white wolf emerged from nowhere. I was simply observing for a short while, and was just about to rise to my feet, when she came nearer, and I saw her pleading eyes, silently asking me to follow, and so I did, and then as we went over a small rise, there appeared a pack of wolves.

As I was attempting to keep pace with the wolves, I unexpectedly began transforming into a wolf, and at that point, I was welcomed into the pack.

Upon waking up once more, I questioned what was happening with my sleep cycle, as it made no sense, and it was then that Aurora, who is known as “Leviathan,” inquired why we were all just sitting there. Things are about to become a little strange, and this is where it gets a little wired.

The whole school is being affected by something, which results in understandable loops that ultimately test the nature of logic itself.

As the original intention was just for me, this is because on the first day of school, I was given a gift from my ancestor, a crest featuring a wolf’s head along with a letter containing a map that showed the place where I needed to find this quest, and the feeling of déjà vu is linked to this.

Considering the storytelling technique of transitioning between various elements in the narrative, the journey’s conclusion will be within this sequence, even if the destination remains undefined.

Following a double stroke, “The Path to a New Life” ends with Raven-Wolf, who is also known as {Ice-Spirit,} embarking on a fresh beginning and her continuing endeavor to keep the vow she made by discovering my place in the world, in order to find true meaning. With the scene set, Iceland in Netherlands will follow, providing an opportunity to encounter other essential characters while she works on establishing a new life for herself. 

The Whispering Willow

Written by Kathy Frizzell Parchment-scroll script by Chantel Inch

Once Upon a Time

In a valley veiled by silver mist, where the moonlight danced upon dew-kissed petals, there stood a willow tree unlike any other. Its branches shimmered with threads of gold, and its leaves whispered secrets to those who dared to listen. The villagers called it the Whispering Willow, believing it to be the keeper of forgotten dreams.

At the edge of the valley lived a young girl named Elara, whose heart was as curious as the stars were endless. She often wandered to the willow’s roots, listening to its soft murmurs. One night, when the wind carried a melody of sorrow, Elara heard the tree speak her name.

“Elara,” it sighed, “the valley’s light is fading. The Dreamkeeper sleeps, and only the pure of heart can awaken her.”

The Journey

Guided by moonlight, Elara set forth beyond the valley, through forests of crystal frost and rivers that sang lullabies. Along her path, she met a fox with eyes like amber fire. The fox bowed low and said, “I guard the path of truth. To pass, you must answer: What shines brightest when all else is dark?”

Elara thought of the stars, the moon, and the sun—but then she smiled. “Hope,” she said. “Hope shines when all else fades.”

The fox nodded, and the path opened before her, glowing with silver light.

The Dream-keeper’s Lair

At the heart of the mountains, Elara found a cavern of sleeping light. There, upon a bed of petals, lay the Dream keeper—a spirit woven from moonbeams and memory. Her breath was faint, her glow dim.

Elara knelt beside her and whispered, “The world still dreams of you.” She placed her hand upon the Dream-keeper’s heart, and from her palm flowed warmth and wonder. The Dream-keeper stirred, her eyes opening like dawn breaking over the horizon.

“Child of courage,” she said, “you have restored the balance. The dreams of the world shall bloom once more.”

The Return

When Elara returned to the valley, the Whispering Willow shimmered brighter than ever. Its golden leaves sang her name, and the villagers gathered to celebrate the return of light. From that day on, the willow’s whispers carried tales of bravery, kindness, and the power of believing in what cannot be seen.

And when the wind rustled through its branches, it was said that Elara’s laughter could still be heard—soft, eternal, and full of wonder.

Inscribed in parchment-scroll script by Chantel Inch Creative-Author: Kathy Frizzell