Days Gone By: The Ancient Kingdoms Campaign

Presently...

"You sure you feel okay, Amy?" Max called.

Amy leaned against the side of their rental car and raised an eyebrow as she surveyed the small, dingy house. The exterior walls needed to be washed and the windows should have been replaced years ago. However, knowing Justin, he hadn't had time for anything of that sort.

"Yeah, I'm fine." She shrugged as she headed back toward the trunk where he was waiting with her duffle bag in hand. "This just brings back memories."

"Really? What kind of memories?" Max chuckled as he slung one strong, muscled arm over her shoulders.

"Just all sorts of memories from high school." She rolled her eyes as he closed the trunk. "Eric's older brother, Justin, has been living here since... gods, I don't know when. It's been forever. We used to hang out here every other weekend."

"That's cool." Max nodded and smiled at her. It was one of those smiles that made her heart pound through her chest and set butterflies loose in her stomach.

"Yeah..." Swallowing her insecurities, she tried to make her brain function enough to smile back. Nodding toward the door, she muttered, "We should probably... yeah."

"Yeah, it might look kind of funny just standing in the driveway." Max grinned and removed his arm from shoulders to hold her hand.

As he led the way to the front door, she bit her lower lip and surveyed his length. His shoulders were well muscled, but not muscle bound. His arms were just the right amount of strong, not overly thick but not too lean either. All of him was like that. He was just the right balance of grace and strength, rebellion and class. Even his hair was a perfect mix of scruffy mane entangled with an abundance of old-school charm.

When he stopped at the door, she sighed and scrunched up her face. "Okay, so, I probably should have warned you earlier, but my old friends... um, they're kind of weird."

Max laughed and shook his head. "Amy, you've met my friends. I think it'll be okay."

"No, they're not weird like your friends," she mumbled, looking at the door before knocking. "They're..."

"What's the password?!" A gruff voice yelled from the other side of the door.

Closing her eyes, she let out an exasperated sigh before muttering, "Mellon?"

"I'm sorry, I didn't catch that. You'll have to speak a little louder." The voice yelled back.

"Sweet cheese and crackers," she whispered under her breath then opened one eye and called, "Mellon?"

"Still didn't hear ya." She could hear the laughter on the other side of the door that followed the response.

"MELLON!" She yelled back, rolling her eyes and turning a furious shade of red.

"Nice try, but no." More laughter ensued.

Rolling her eyes again, she groaned, "It's not something completely stupid like, 'Skeeter is the best,' is it?"

The door opened to reveal a man in his upper thirties, possibly early forties, wearing a holey, Lynyrd Skynyrd shirt and baggy sweatpants. His tall frame was boney, and his face was pale with dark circles under his eyes. His high cheekbones exacerbated the fact that his cheeks had absolutely no curve to them.

"It's actually, 'Skeeter is the shit,' but that's close enough." He smirked as he leaned against the doorframe. Running his tongue over his top row of teeth, he nodded. "Well, well, little, baby Amy. Late bloomer, huh?"