The Arrival of Smidge: A Disturbance in the Tavern

Smidge and the mammon gem

I didn’t plan for this character to appear.

Ravenheart was sitting alone in the tavern, and the scene felt calm, almost like a moment of rest in the story. It was supposed to be simple. Quiet. A pause before whatever came next. But then something shifted, and this character entered the space without invitation.

Smidge.

The moment he appeared in my mind, I felt the same reaction Ravenheart did. Shock, discomfort, even a kind of internal recoil. He wasn’t just another character walking into a scene. He felt intrusive, like something that didn’t belong there, yet somehow had every right to be there.

He was loud, shameless, completely without self-awareness in the way he carried himself. There was no humility in him at all. He walked around the tavern like he owned it, as if the moment itself had been waiting for him to arrive.

What struck me most was that I didn’t create him in a deliberate way. He revealed himself. And what he revealed wasn’t pleasant.

Smidge represents something very specific. He’s a kind of distorted trickster, but not the kind that helps you grow or challenges you in a meaningful way. He’s the kind that exploits. The kind that watches for weakness, for desire, for need, and then uses it.

He offers things, but never honestly. There’s always an angle. Always something behind it.

In the story, this shows up through his obsession with the green mammons. These glowing crystals aren’t just currency. They represent power, value, control, and he understands that instinctively. Not in a wise way, but in a consuming way. He wants them, not just to have them, but to become something through them.

That’s where he becomes more than just a character.

He starts to feel like a reflection of something I recognise in the world.

There’s a certain type of energy that appears in different places, especially in spaces that are meant to be spiritual or alternative. Not everyone, of course, but enough to notice. It’s that mix of surface-level spirituality with underlying appetite. The idea of being awakened or elevated, while still being driven by desire, addiction, control, or self-interest.

Smidge feels like that energy made visible.

He’s not pretending to be pure. He doesn’t even hide what he is, not really. But at the same time, he operates through deception. Through suggestion. Through positioning himself as someone offering something valuable.

And people accept it.

That’s what makes him unsettling. Not just what he is, but how easily he can exist within a space without being challenged.

What’s also interesting is that he appeared not long after the Sparkster. That feels important. Almost like two sides of the same coin. One representing something lighter, more open, more expressive… and the other representing something that feeds, takes, and distorts.

The green seers seem to connect to him as well. They feel like a continuation of this same energy, but spread out across multiple forms. Not the true seers that will appear later in the story, but something like a corrupted version. A lineage that has lost its connection to truth and become something else entirely.

I have to admit, even looking at him in the images we’ve created brings up a sense of unease. There’s something in his expression, in his presence, that feels genuinely repulsive. Not in a superficial way, but in a deeper, instinctive way.

And yet, he’s part of the story now.

He entered on his own terms, and Ravenheart had no choice but to deal with him. That’s probably the most honest part of it. Sometimes these things don’t arrive when you want them to. They arrive when they’re ready.

And when they do, you don’t always get to ignore them.

You have to face them, understand what they are, and decide how much power you’re willing to give them.