# Unforgiving lands - Now in hiatus - Details at last post



## Cerulean_Wings (Dec 29, 2007)

Salutations, people of EN World! I'm a new author for the Story Hour forum, and I'm here to start making my story known 

This tale is 100% fiction, not based in an actual real-life game, and is staged in the campaign setting called The North, created for anyone to use. I don't know the author or his/her name, but the setting has no copyright, and thus I will use it as a solid base for my story. 

You can check the setting on-line: http://thenorth.pbwiki.com/

Although The North is made for a low-magic Iron Heroes game, I've decided to use it for normal 3.5 DnD.

It's my first story ever that I write on a forum, but I've been a DM for close to 8 years, if that counts for something   Now, all of that being said, my grammar and spelling aren't perfect, and I'm well aware of that. How can you help me improve on that, you say? Easy! Point out any spelling/grammar mistakes that I make in the story, and the right way to do it. That's how I learn, through errors   

The link for the Rogue's Gallery is here

Without further ado, I give you... my story!


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## Cerulean_Wings (Dec 29, 2007)

Chapter 1 

*The House of Wisdom*

Berendes Mithrar, Patriarch of the Mithrar clan and Pledged of House Dagoth paced back and forth across the richly adorned carpet that was placed in the center of the no-less richly decorated chamber. It was dark outside, since it was close to midnight, but the room wasn't very brightly illuminated, since Berendes didn't require it. His fine cape flowed in every direction as he turned at the end of the carpet once again.

“You're ruining the carpet”.

The Pledged of House Dagoth stopped abruptly on his tracks and turned his head to look at the source of the words, the figure that was leaning comfortably against a nearby wall. It was a human male, looking to be in his mid-thirties, wearing nothing but a long sleeved black shirt and dark green trousers. His hands were covered with simple leather gloves, one attached to a black pearl in the center while the other one had a white one.

“So? There are more important things than this expensive carpet, Rudokai” Berendes replied, clearly annoyed by the remark made by the other man. 

“And how's pacing from one end to the other going to resolve those “more important things”, Berendes?” Rudokai said with a calm voice, almost devoid of any emotion.

The nobleman seemed even more anxious than before after hearing this “I'm pacing because I'm nervous, and I'm nervous-”.

“-because you fear House Ganellar” finished the other with a simple gesture of his left hand. Once it was put in the open, the words sounded less important or impressive than they did in the mind of the Patriarch.

“And rightly so!” Berendes shot back, raising one angry fist in the air with great drama “We are the House of Wisdom, they are the House of Might. If it came to open war, their forces would surely overwhelm ours, and you know it”.

Rudokai abandoned his comfortable position and separated himself from the wall, folding his arms as he did “If” he began, with great emphasis in the word “it comes to open war. You seem to forget, thanks to your nervousness, that so far there has been no indication of Ganellar – or any other Noble House, for that matter – intending to assault us”.

Berendes paused before formulating his reply, and took a deep breath as he walked towards the balcony at the end of the chamber, his need for pacing gone. At least for the moment. He stopped walking half-way to the balcony as a flash of red caught his attention, but when he realized that it was the light of the torches reflecting on an ornament, he continued his walk without thinking about it for another second.

He was fifty six years old, and had witnessed the ever changing flow of power in the world for as long as he could remember. As a Pledged of House Dagoth, it was his duty to watch over the House and protect it from threats. He had accomplished this several times in the past decades, but never against another Noble House. Such a conflict would be the equivalent of two nations warring against each other, possibly dragging the neighboring ones into it in the process.

Placing both hands on the white marble railing of the balcony, Berendes took a quick look of the magnificent vista of the city of Ysalis, one of the biggest metropolis in the land. It pained him greatly that this fair place might be endangered from other cities or Houses.

“You speak the truth, Rudokai, but yet...” his voice trailed off, unable to put his thoughts into words.

“...yet the fear persists?” the other man finished for him, placing himself right next to him on the balcony. “Why should you remain paranoid, Patriarch? A couple of House Dagoth members have gone missing, some of the nobles are being harassed here and there – nothing that hasn't occurred in the past”.

“True” Berendes admitted. “But this time it feels different, somehow, in a strange and unexplainable way” he looked at Rudokai, who in turn was gazing towards the heavens above, a beautifully starred sky. “What shall I do?”.

It almost sounded like a plea, a desperate request for help coming from a child and giving it to a father. The child in this scenario happened to be one of the most powerful men in the land, and the father in question was in fact more than a thousand years old. Rudokai was one of the First, the beings created by the Gods at the dawn of time to guide the Noble Houses. Through the gloves that he wore, Rudokai was bound to House Dagoth, forced to assist the group no matter how big the cost.

Rudokai smiled, but only to put Berendes at ease, since the divinely-infused being never really felt anything. “If you have an enemy, cut it. If you have a problem, solve it. Is there an enemy to slay, or a problem to defuse? Since the answer is 'no', what must we do, Berendes Mithrar, Pledged of House Dagoth?”.

Only a certain few could talk to a Pledged in such a condescending fashion, and Rudokai was included in that minority. Berendes swallowed his pride and sighed deeply before stating what sounded to him as the obvious, yet something that he had refused to consider until now:

“I will send scouts to gather information on the matter, to see what the threat is, if there is one at all. No military maneuvers will take place until my suspicions are confirmed”.

Rudokai nodded, satisfied, and kept staring at the night sky for a couple of moments before turning around and walking back into the palace of House Dagoth.

“You know, it's quite the spectacle to watch mortal beings stumble upon solutions that were always right in front of them, like a peasant that runs through a forest, looking for trees”.

Since it was pointless to be angry at one of the First, Berendes merely pretended to ignore the remark and remained in his position at the edge of the railing, pondering. 

“I feel like a blind peasant, running through the woods, running for my life, as skilled hunters track me down, slowly but surely” .              

Malakhati the Scorpion had to restrain a laugh upon hearing this, for he felt it a very accurate representation of the present situation. Earlier on he almost got caught as his blood-red eyes reflected on the torchlight, and he made a mental note to be mindful of that for the next time. His eyes were the only part of his body that he couldn't completely hide, but he had ways of avoiding this little annoyance. Laughing inwardly, Malakhati left the palace the same way that he had entered.

Right through the solid stone walls, without making a sound.


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## Cerulean_Wings (Dec 29, 2007)

Chapter 2 

*Knight and Bodyguard*

“You don't talk much, do you?” Vincent inquired as he hoisted his traveling pack on his back in order to start another day of walking from where they set camp. 

Gilliam only nodded in response, proving Vincent's comment right in doing so. He was almost finished packing his belongings into a weathered old backpack.

“But it's better if you do talk, wouldn't you agree?” he pressed, seeing that he had to force a verbal answer out of his traveling companion and bodyguard. “It makes the walking treks go faster, and it's not as dull when there's conversation”.

“You can't force me to talk to you, Vincent” Gilliam said at length, checking that his weapons and armor were in the right places. “It wasn't in the contract”.

It was a sunny summer day, in the middle of pretty grasslands, but Vincent Ender somehow felt coldness emanating out of Gilliam. “But there wasn't a rule that said that you couldn't talk, yes?” he pointed out, looking to the northeast, the general direction in which they were heading, towards the Rainbow River, then back at Gilliam.

With a deep sigh of absolute resignation, Gilliam stood up from his crouching stance and hoisted his own traveling pack over his shoulders. “Alright, master Vincent, what would you prefer to converse about this fine day, as we travel towards the home of a hermit, carrying a message of great importance?” he asked with fake reverence, his facial features more than obvious signs of frustration. 

Frowning only for a moment, Vincent nodded and started to lead the duo northeast “Well, for instance, I barely know about you, only that you're performing 'body-guard jobs' as your main occupation, risking your life so that others may travel safely, or at least relatively so. My House paid a good amount of gold for your services, Gilliam, but I don't like to see my House's employees as... mere servants”.

“If that would please you, then I don't see the harm in it” Gilliam took a couple of quick steps to catch up with Vincent, who had already walked twenty feet or so while he was talking. Still, Vincent was wearing full-plate, while Gilliam sported a battered but solid chain shirt, which granted him more mobility and posed less of an encumbrance.

“What do you want to know?”.

“As much as you're willing to tell me” came the quick reply, accompanied with a smile, now that they were walking side by side.

“Fair enough”. 

Gilliam spent half a minute considering where to begin his tale, and when he felt satisfied with his choice he began talking in a casual way, not putting much emotion into the words.

“My father was a human, my mother was a human, and after they married I was born, as a human”.

“Imagine that, two humans giving birth to a human baby!” Vincent joked, not realizing he had interrupted the tale he had demanded for at the very start.

“I was merely clarifying my blood-line” Gilliam said in a strained fashion. “Some folks I've met thought I was of elven descent, if only on one side of my family”

Vincent hastily cleared his throat. “Sorry, please continue” .      

“Anyway, I joined the Battle Forged, the guard at the city of Capris, at the age of seventeen-”

“That's surely an early age to join the city guard” Vincent commented with a low whistle, sounding impressed.

Gilliam ignored the second interruption and went on “I trained with the best, got my fair share of combat, and reached the point in which I could have beaten anyone in the local garrison. The most dangerous missions were always delegated to me by default, and I always took them, completing them with great efficiency”.

This time, Vincent didn't interrupt, as he was listening to the story with rapt interest. After all, not everyone has the chance in life to hear the life-story of a city guard veteran!

“I was given the rank of Captain, had my own group of soldiers to command, and I could've made it to Sergeant if I had wanted to. But I wanted to keep it simple, and guiding my own group of ten Battle Forged seemed like the perfect job for me. Once I was given the mission to look for a dagger-wielding assassin throughout the entire city” he looked at Vincent in the eye and added “Capris isn't as big as your city, Seawall, mind you, but the place had easily over five thousand people living in it. Finding this murderer was the equivalent of catching a needle in a haystack”.   

There was a pause, and Vincent took the chance to ask “How did you find him, then?”.

For the first time in the entire trip, the three days that they had traveled together, Gilliam smiled, if only for a brief time. “We knew through our sources that the assassin was a proud man, and so we set up a trap for him: we hosted a tournament for all swordsmen to participate in, but we restricted the weapons to small blades only”.

“The weapons the assassin was proficient with!” Vincent cried out as he snapped his fingers, catching on.

“That's exactly right” the bodyguard praised with his index finger pointing at his companion. “By the end of the tournament, there was only one who could possibly outmatch the rest of the participants. We got a hold of him on the spot, and shortly afterwards we managed to make him confess for his atrocities”.

There was a vague hint of pride in Gilliam's words, but then again, it could've been Vincent's imagination playing tricks on him.

Eying the twin bastard swords sheathed in scabbards at Gilliam's waist, Vincent inquired “You have two, in case you lose the other?”.

“No, I wield the two at the same time”. Since he wasn't looking at Vincent, Gilliam didn't notice the man's eyes go wide with awe: few people decided to train in wielding the exotic bastard sword one-handed... even fewer would choose to master wielding two in each hand!

“How long did it take you to learn how to use them like that?”.

Gilliam considered the question for a moment. “All of my life” .

There was another pause, and Vincent felt forced to press on.

“What happened next? What other important tasks were you given?”.

“Nothing. I deserted the Battle Forged shortly afterwards” was the indifferent response that Gilliam gave. Vincent almost stopped walking after hearing the turning of events “Y-you jest! Surely you wouldn't leave after-”.

Gilliam cut him off before he could formulate the inevitable question “Personal matters, none of your business”.  

An uneasy silence fell upon the two, just then, and for a several minutes the only sound that could be heard was the clanking of Vincent's armor as he walked.

“What about you?”.

“M-me?” stuttered Vincent.

“Yes. You, your past, your story” Gilliam added, sounding as if he was asking this for the other's sake  than for his own curiosity.

Vincent smiled as he began to unfold the events of his own past with great pride “As you know, I was born as the son of an elven noble couple, both of House Kashtar” he tapped the symbol of the House that was engraved in the chest area of his plate armor, a silver helm on a blue field, almost subconsciously. “I was raised with the ideals of my House: honor, loyalty and courage. I was trained since I was little in defending myself and others with weapons, but also studied subjects such as history and politics, both of which I find very profound and helpful. The deals of the Noble Houses do get complicated more often than not”.

“Tell me about it” Gilliam whispered.

“I became a squire only three years ago, and it's been quite the challenge for me, in more than one way”. 

Vincent glanced at Gilliam, who nodded in comprehension “Indeed, it will take time getting used to it. Speaking of which, how long have you been wearing that full-plate armor for?”.

“All my life – as a squire” Vincent replied, sounding quite happy with himself despite the small accomplishment.

“What of your spear? Isn't that the signature weapon of House Kashtar?”.

The noble-born elf nodded and patted the shaft of his weapon placed on his back diagonally “Correct. Every member of the House receives intensive training with these type of weapons, for the most part. I admit that it was hard to train with it and the armor at the beginning, but I intend to plow through these hardships and to strive forward! One day, I'll become a full-fledged knight of House Kashtar, and I will make my family proud. Unfortunately, I don't have any grand tales to talk about, like you, since I've only been in this position for a short period of time”.

“I take it you'd do anything to please your family, your House, to make them proud of you?”.

The elf in heavy armor blinked twice before replying hesitantly “Well, yes, that's what I would like to do”.

“And what if they ask you to do something you don't want to do?” Gilliam pressed on, his tone starting to switch from casual to deadly serious.

“I-I don't know what you mean, anything they would ask of me-”.

“Even if they ask you to kill a loved one?”.

Vincent came to an abrupt halt, as if he had been slapped on the face, and turned to face Gilliam directly “Neither my House or my family would do such a thing! How could you suggest something like that!” he shouted, outraged.

“My question stands, Vincent: what if they do?” he asked patiently, standing on the spot and folding his arms as he awaited for a response.

“Then-I-I would-my family... House Kashtar...” Vincent tried to say something, but the dilemma that Gilliam hit him with had clearly caught him unawares.

“Think about it” Gilliam said right before he resumed the walk.

Vincent tried to come up with a clear cut answer on the spot, he really did, but as much as he tried, he couldn't fathom what he would do in a situation like the one Gilliam presented.

“Are you going to keep going, or what? I can't defend you if you lag behind me” Gilliam called from a couple of feet ahead.

That brought him back to the present, and so the warrior of House Kashtar resumed his trip as well. But he couldn't shake off the feeling that the question he was asked had once been asked to Gilliam as well. And whatever choice Gilliam made, it had to be the one that forced him to leave the Battle Forged.  

Vincent sincerily hoped to never have to make the same choice that Gilliam was forced to do.


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## Cerulean_Wings (Dec 29, 2007)

Aaaaaand we have a Rogue's Gallery for our two handsome characters! 

See them here


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## Cerulean_Wings (Dec 30, 2007)

Chapter 3 

*Blood on the road*

Vincent and Gilliam had traveled for three days on the road, the only one made for reaching the city of Seawall, situated at the coast. It was the safest way to travel, but that didn't mean that it was devoid of any dangers, since only the section closest to the port city were patrolled by guards. From that point and on, travelers were on their own in the wilderness. 

At first, they walked through grasslands, almost completely flat, filled with wild animals everywhere. Thankfully, none decided to attack the duo as of yet. Not that Gilliam or Vincent wouldn't be able to handle them, but neither man felt like adding unnecessary struggles to their trip. As they approached a fourth day of traveling, the flat terrain was transforming into hills, and the abundant grass was disappearing progressively. 

For the most part, both bodyguard and squire kept their conversations to a minimum, only engaging in small, trivial talk every now and then, when it was necessary. Vincent, out of fear of being assaulted with another moral dilemma from the ex-guard, and Gilliam... he simply didn't feel like conversing. 

However, an exception was made as they stopped momentarily for Vincent to re-adjust his backpack, which had a broken leather strap due to all the weight he was carrying, and the elf bent down to fix the inconvenience. 

“Do you know what's in the wooden case?”.

Vincent looked up curiously at Gilliam. “You mean the scroll, the one for the hermit?”.

“The one and only”.

The squire stopped trying to make a knot out of the broken strap and stared at the backpack for a moment. “I know it's a message for the hermit, no more”.

“And who's this hermit? What connection does your House have with him?” he asked as he stood next to Vincent, checking the surrounding area as he did.

“I must admit I'm not sure; in all of my history lessons, I've only found out that this hermit has helped my House, but the transcripts are vague on the matter”.

Gilliam sighed, as if he had expected as much from the squire of House Kashtar. “Is there anything that you actually know about the hermit, then? Where he lives, why we are traveling all the way to his house, in the middle of nowhere, or even what we are going to give him?”.

Vincent was looking through his pack for a rope while he replied. “I'm afraid... that no, I don't have an answer for those questions. The hermit resides in a shack close to the Rainbow River, that's what I know” he looked up once again to look at his bodyguard “Why didn't you ask your employer about this matter, if you wanted to know?”.

“Because my contract didn't involve me knowing more than what was necessary”.

“Have you considered 'bending' the contract, every now and then, so that you may better understand your mission?”.

Gilliam looked amused by this. “When I start bending the contract, that's usually followed by my employer doing the same – when we are discussing the matter of my payment”.

“Oh” Vincent nodded and returned his attention to the backpack. He had found the rope, now he needed to cut it and tie the straps together.

Both men remained silent then, Vincent giving the finishing touches to his backpack while Gilliam continued to observe the countryside. It was a peaceful afternoon, with clouds forming on the horizon, radiating a variety of colors, from gray to orange, and from purple to pink. 

The mercenary broke the silence, all of a sudden. “Good Gods, man, you've got no information on the matter, and you're obviously carrying out an important task!” he said, frustrated at his companion's lack of care.

“Important? How so?” replied Vincent, still looking down, focused on the task at hand.

Gilliam let out an angry breath and began to slowly pace around the crouching elf. “You were not given specifics on what exactly you're taking to this hermit, whoever he is. If you're captured and interrogated, you won't be able to tell a thing”.

“Since you can't tell anyone about it, it's the safest way to carry this message in the wooden case you have, because you couldn't betray the contents of the scroll even if you wanted to, since you're in the dark about the whole damned thing”.

Vincent merely kept tying the straps tightly with the piece of rope, and Gilliam practically wanted to scream at the squire. 

“I trust my House, Gilliam” he said, at length. Gilliam stopped pacing and stopped to glance sideways at Vincent.

The mercenary mumbled something that Vincent couldn't hear, but he could guess it had to do with his loyalty to House Kashtar.

“In any case, since you know the land better, have you heard of any Barbarians in these hills?” Gilliam asked, changing the subject.

Vincent was done fixing the strap; he checked to make sure it would hold. “No, since they're only seen in the Gray Spears, the mountain range to the north. That's what I've learned from the historians of Seawall during my lessons”.

“Is that so?” Gilliam turned to face the land to the side of the road. “Then I think I'm going to have a talk with your history teacher when we get back to Seawall, since current evidence proves otherwise”.

Confused, Vincent looked up at Gilliam, then at the direction the warrior was facing. A trio of humanoids, Barbarians, judging by the way the savage way they dressed, were approaching them at a swift pace, trotting on the hills to the side of the road, from the north. 

“Maybe they're exploring” was Vincent's suggestion.

“Or maybe they're here to slit our throats and drink our blood. Stay on your guard” Gilliam replied as he subconsciously checked his equipment to make sure it was battle-ready. His swords were in their respective scabbards, and his leather belt held exactly ten throwing knives.

He didn't have to say any more to convince the other warrior. Vincent understood the potential threat and stood up, hoisting his backpack over his shoulder, and it seemed as if his earlier work had been successful at repairing the strap. He placed a hand on his back, grasping the spear's shaft firmly, feeling it's solid wood for reassurance. His iron shield had to be re-adjusted to his right arm, as he displaced it while he was busy with the backpack. Vincent didn't have to confirm if his heavy metallic armor was ready for a potential battle: it was always with him, like a second skin, only taken off when going to sleep.    

The three Barbarians were now at fifty feet from them, and all of them had weapons in hand. One was an orc who he had a battle axe. His companion, a human, was carrying a trident along with a leathered wooden shield. The last one, a half-orc, looked no less impressive with his two hand axes, one held firmly in each hand.

At twenty feet they stopped, and the half-orc took a step forward to speak. “You” he pointed at Gilliam and Vincent “Where you go?” he asked, his words and pronunciation way off, but clear enough for the duo to understand well enough.

Vincent was about to respond when Gilliam placed an outstretched arm in front of his chest and whispered “Let me handle this”.

Taking a step forward, like the half-orc did, Gilliam responded “We go to adventure. No more”.

The orc growled something in the tongue of the Barbarians, and while neither Gilliam nor Vincent could guess what he had said, his companions understood it well enough, and the half-orc pressed the matter. “You, eh, go to hermit?”. 

Vincent stuttered something incomprehensible. Gilliam's mouth hung open a couple of inches, a trickle of cold sweat crawling down his neck meanwhile.

“How do you-” Vincent began to say, with Gilliam trying to cut him off, but it was too late. The half-orc understood the meaning of the response well enough, and yelled one word in his native tongue. The command was very likely tied to the lives of Gilliam and Vincent, for the three Barbarians howled with abandon and charged forward, weapons at the ready.

“Wait for them with your spear!” commanded Gilliam in a low voice. The mercenary drew his two swords in one smooth maneuver at the same time and looked to the side to see if Vincent was holding his spear as he had instructed. 

The sight of the young squire charging forward greeted him, instead, and Gilliam cursed under his breath.

The clash of weapon upon weapon resounded in the otherwise quiet afternoon, as Vincent's spearhead was parried by the half-orcs axe. His other hand axe was ready for a strike, and it was through sheer luck that the elf brought the shield up in time to prevent his head from being split in two. Shield or no, Vincent felt the force of the impact, and he could tell that the Barbarian was quite strong, maybe even stronger than him. He probably had more battle experience, too, and that certainly didn't help him with his survival. 

Seeing that his companion was about to be flanked (and subsequently brutally murdered), Gilliam had to dash forward and reach the other two foes before they reached the squire. The bodyguard managed to go around Vincent and the half-orc just as the other two were about to reach them. In a second, he was forced to fend off the horizontal blade from the battleaxe with his left sword, followed by parrying and deflecting the trident's head away from his body with the right one. 

The half-orc screamed like a wild beast, shaking Vincent somewhat, but the warrior steeled himself and forced his mind to stay still, like he had been taught to do in his sparring sessions countless times. Attacking his opponent with no strategy in mind would only lead to his early demise, Vincent realized, lifting his shield-arm once more to block an axehead from impacting his arm. He used the opportunity to take a step back and stab forwards with his spear, aiming for the half-orc's groin. At the last second, the second handaxe came down upon the spear, and the weapon went off its intended course, missing the half-orc entirely.

“He's good” Vincent admitted under his breath.

Gilliam was somehow faring better off than the elf. He whirled around the two Barbarians, moving his swords around in sharp angles, changing directions in the last moment, attempting to create an opening. So far, the opportunity hadn't presented itself, but neither had the two brutes managed to land a hit on the evasive mercenary.

“Come on, you big oafs, why don't you run me through already?!” he taunted, banging the flat of his blades together to increase the effectiveness of the insult.

Predictably so, both human and orc shouted in fury, letting go of their attempts to surround Gilliam and going straight for the man. That was the biggest mistake of their lives. Gilliam was running away from them, but he pivoted and slashed diagonally with one sword, forcing the orc to stop an inch short of the extended blade. The human, confident in his skills, jumped high in the air as he pulled the trident back in order to add momentum to the attack. Smiling like a maniac, he fell upon the seemingly unprepared mercenary, and stabbed forwards with full-force. 

His trident met only air. And his stomach was greeted by Gilliam's second bastard sword, running him through, with the end of the blade jutting out of the man's back. Gilliam kicked the dying man's body to retract the sword quickly, and he was able to pull the blade free in an instant. 

“One down. How are you faring, Vincent?” Gilliam asked quickly as he observed his remaining opponent, the orc that no longer looked confident of an easy win.

The response came in the form of a cry of agony, distracting Gilliam for a second. He looked over and saw the half-orc scoring a solid hit on the squire's shoulder, biting deep through the metallic shoulder, cutting skin at the best, bone at the worst. It didn't seem like he would recover quickly enough to prevent the additional axe from dealing the killing blow, and Gilliam thought of running for his companion's aid for that instant. 

His intent and his life were almost cleaved in two by the orc's battle axe as it forced the mercenary to raise both swords in an “x” to defend from the attack. The distraction had almost cost him dearly and he had to forget about Vincent for the time being. The squire would survive, Gilliam told himself, and decided to leave Vincent's fate be. 

As he struggled with the orc to push the weapons forward and prevent the other's from falling on his head, Gilliam had the rare chance to admire the orc's weapon quality: it looked like it was bought from a blacksmith, rather than crudely fashioned. 

“How in the Hell's did they get these?” he wondered out loud.

If the Barbarian understood his words, no one could tell, but he did notice Gilliam's attention fading for an instant, long enough for the orc to gain the edge on the struggle and push down with all his might, yelling all the while. Gilliam's simply strength wasn't enough, and he had to twist his body to the side in order to preserve his head intact. The edge of the weapon cut through the links of his chain shirt, however, making Gilliam feel a searing agony by his chest.

Gilliam finished the evasive jump and performed another one for good measure, to keep some distance between himself and his opponent. The orc's weapon was now thinly coated in blood, his blood, and he used the chance to look at the wound. It didn't seem serious, even if it broke a section of the armor, but it didn't feel quite right at the same time. He could still fight, but he doubted that he could take more hits like that and remain in the same condition,

From behind, he could hear Vincent's voice, yelling something that he couldn't quite make out in the heat of the battle, not that he really intended to so anyway. One distraction was more than enough for one battle, Gilliam told himself. There was also the sick sound of metal piercing live flesh a couple of feet behind him and hoped it wasn't the squire's body that had suffered the assault. 

By now, the orc had changed his fighting stance and decided to approach the mercenary with greater care. Instead of charging, he trotted and started coming from the left, axe held to his side with both hands, gaining momentum for the attack. Gilliam opted to meet him from the opposite direction, both swords held low on the right side of his body.

When they were about to clash, the orc shifted directions, side-stepping to the right swiftly and changed the angle of his weapon to strike diagonally. But Gilliam was far from surprised, for he had seen the feint coming. He met the orc's axe with his two blades, sandwiching it in-between, and twisted on the spot to drive them out of the Barbarian's hands. The orc held steady to the axe's shaft, but while he had  rescued his weapon from being tossed away, that action cost him his balance, making it impossible to avoid Gilliam's twin swords. The bastard blades cut him in the forearm and in one of his legs, both wounds starting to bleed profusely. 

But the orc rejected the notion of defeat against any odds and he slashed at Gilliam one more time, only to find out that he wasn't standing up anymore. Gilliam had crouched low right after his attack and came from below with one sword, stabbing the savage orc's throat, ending his life.

Gilliam was about to clean his blades as he usually did after a battle, when he recalled Vincent's predicament. He spun in a half-circle and couldn't believe his eyes.

Vincent's spear was laying on the floor right next to his body, laying face-up on the ground horizontally. He wasn't moving

“Vincent!” Gilliam screamed, running after the squire and dropping his weapons in the process, forgetting all caution.

He bent on one knee and shook him by the collar bone with his hands “Vincent! Answer me, say something!”

The squire's mouth opened and he mumbled something.

“What?” Gilliam shook him once again and placed his ear right next to the squire's mouth to hear better.

“Gi-Gilliam...” Vincent called, sounding weak and distant.

“I'm here Vincent, I'm by your side. I know you're strong, I know you can make it with me to the hermit and back” Gilliam reassured him, shaking him some more as he did, trying to drag him back to this world. 

“Could you please...” added the weakened elf.

“Anything, my friend. For you... anything”.

There was a moment of absolute silence in which it seemed to Gilliam that the world had stopped as he waited for the dying man's request.

“... stop shaking me around? My head hurts”.

Gilliam stopped the movement and dropped Vincent's upper torso altogether, which fell to the ground and made the squire grunt.

“You- you aren't dying!” Gilliam accused, standing up with a jump, perplexed and relieved at the same time.

“Of course not. I killed the Barbarian and fell back, hitting my head and practically blacking out in doing so” he replied weakly, trying to get up as he did. The movement brought him pain, making Vincent grasp his injured shoulder. 

The mercenary felt slightly silly at hearing the explanation  “Oh” he looked to the side and saw the half-orc's corpse, which was 'resting' in a weird position, one of his axes stuck on his head.  

“You killed him...”.

“With his own axe, yeah” Vincent groaned, still in pain, but managed to sit up “I dropped my spear after he cut me on the shoulder, but I was able to snatch his weapon and use it against him”. He looked towards the Barbarian's corpse as well “I didn't know they had such fine quality weaponry, truth to be told”.

“They don't” replied Gilliam, his tone serious. Vincent looked up from his seat. “But, you just saw them-”.

“Use the weapons? Yes, but what I'm saying here is that they are not their own. Someone provided them with the axes and trident”.

“They could've stolen them”.

“And then going after the two lone travelers who happened to be journeying to see a hermit?” Gilliam shot back.

Vincent could only stare at the bodyguard, unable to to formulate a better theory. The Barbarians had been sent to kill them.


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## Cerulean_Wings (Dec 31, 2007)

Happy new year to all of you!  Enjoy the longest chapter so far!

Chapter 4 

*Tenacious assailants*

After leaving the Barbarian's corpses for carrion to take over, the pair of warriors resumed their trip, their steps accelerated slightly by the realization that they were being targeted by someone who wanted them dead. They didn't make a fire at night, as they usually did, at Gilliam's insistence. They also spent longer amounts of time guarding the place when the other was resting. Their wounds hadn't been lethal, since a couple of bandages to patch up the two men was enough to ease the pain and ensure a swift healing of the cuts they had received. 

The next morning they left camp even faster than they had settled down, once again at Gilliam's suggestion for “extra caution”. They walked at a brisk pace for half a day, stopping only for a swift lunch of cold rations. The surrounding area was now hilly terrain only, with not much green to cover the patches of ground. They could see the Gray Spears to the north more closely, but they wouldn't be getting up close to them, as their goal lay more to the east, near the river. They had only half a day left of traveling, and by Vincent's estimation they should arrive at the hermit's shack by twilight. 

“Hey, Gilliam” Vincent called as he looked upwards at the clear sky. 

“Hmm?” Gilliam replied, obviously lost in thought a moment ago.

The squire lowered his gaze back to the road “Back then, when you though me dead...” he began to say.

Gilliam merely looked sideways at his companion “What of it?”.   

“You called me 'friend', as you shook me left and right”.

“You must have heard incorrectly, with your weak condition and all” replied the mercenary dismissively with a wave of his hand.

“Oh” Vincent nodded slowly and looked at Gilliam “I see, maybe I was hallucinating...”

“Indeed. You're the one I must protect from harm, no more”.

Silence fell upon the two, as it usually did after this type of conversation. This time, Vincent was the one to fill the absence of words with his own.

“May I call you 'Gil'?”.

Gilliam's body stiffened and he turned his head abruptly to look at Vincent straight in the eyes. “What?”.  

“I said 'Gil'. It's short for your name, 'Gilliam'” the elf explained with a smile.

There was a pause before Gilliam's answer became manifest. “I don't see the purpose of-” he began, turning his head back to the path ahead.

“If you don't like it, that's fine by me. I was merely asking, that's all” Vincent said with a shrug. “Some people I know call me 'Vince', so I don't mind if you call me by my short name”.

Gilliam sighed “I had thought that House Kashtar was more serious and formal”.

“A common misconception!” the squire retorted happily “My House teaches respect, honor, and many other virtues, but it doesn't by any means tell its members that formality is a virtue” he rubbed his chin and added  “At least not all the time”.

The bodyguard considered the proposal for almost a minute, apparently having to weight the positives and negatives of agreeing to it.

“Very well, call me as you wish” he agreed, not entirely sure if he was agreeing to something more in the process.

“Great. I'm glad you like the idea, Gil” Vincent responded cheerfully.

Gilliam couldn't explain it with words, but he felt something deep inside of himself that he hadn't felt in some time after he heard the name 'Gil'. It was a sensation that he had experienced, back then when he was surrounded by those he loved. And it seemed like he had almost forgotten what friendship felt like.

The remaining of the journey was spent in more frequent chatter, the squire and the bodyguard exchanging more than nods and 'hmm's. They didn't encounter any other assailants on the road, and by twilight they had reached the Rainbow River, its beauty not fully appreciated due to the lack of sunlight, which was said to make it look multicolored. Fifty feet from the river's bank was an old wooden shack, apparently devoid of any life. Shadows were long and imposing, but with the day waning they still had plenty of room to expand to swallow the land in darkness.

Stopping thirty feet or so from the cabin, Gilliam rubbed his chin warily as he considered the situation  at hand.

“I don't like this” he said with suspicion.

“It's not the most beautiful house I've seen, either, but you should understand that hermits usually don't have much resources to-”.

Gilliam cut him off.  “I'm talking about the fact that it looks abandoned, aside from the other fact that we should approach it with daylight on our side”.

Vincent didn't seem to comprehend the meaning behind the suggestion. “Gil, I'm sure the hermit won't mind if we wake him up”.

Instead of punching him in the face, Gilliam turned to face the squire, and with a constrained voice he explained “Think, Vince, think! Barbarians attacked us a day ago and now we are by the hermit's house, no light to be seen and the darkness to cover potential assailants” he paused, gesturing towards the area that they came from “We should retrace our steps and wait for daybreak”

“Nonsense, Gil!” Vincent replied, sounding baffled by this idea. “Let us go to the hermit, deliver the scroll, and be done with things. If there would be assassin's, we would have seen them by now, don't you think?”.   

Gilliam wasn't sure what bothered him the most: the elf's naivety or his carefree attitude. How in the Hells had this man survived three years as a squire? “You don't get it, do you?” Gilliam replied tiredly, sliding one hand down his face.

But the elf wasn't there to listen to his words! Instead, Vincent had started moving towards the shack, fearless of a potential attack. He didn't try to remain stealthy, or least become more stealthy, with his plate armor clanking all the way as he moved down the hill.

Gilliam cursed, loudly, before trotting after his companion in order to get ahead of him.

“Why don't you listen to me?! If you're not more cautious, you could end up dead!” he whispered angrily at Vincent.

The squire merely smiled and shrugged. “Why be cautious when there's nothing to fear? You're being paranoid, Gil”. They had reached the shack by now, and they got to see the small building more closely: it was a one-room shack made entirely out of wood, with a window next to the entrance. The inside was pitch dark, with no sources of illumination on sight, like a candle or a lamp.

Since there wasn't a door, only an old curtain, Vincent walked in as he moved the curtain aside. Gilliam resisted the urge to violently drag him back by the collar of his armor and followed suit. 

“Seems like no one's home” Vincent said to himself.

They were standing in the middle of the place and they could barely make out a couple of the shack's items: a weathered bed, its sheets torn apart; a one-inch candle with wax spilled nearby; finally, they spotted a three-legged wooden table, threatening to collapse at the slightest pressure applied to it. There was also a strange smell in the place, which could be attributed to the lack of hygiene. 

“See? Nothing to-” Vincent began to say, but had to stop talking as he took another step and slipped, falling face-down on the wooden floor, which cracked at the pressure.

“Easy there” Gilliam bent down to help the squire to get back up. He didn't seem to be hurt, save for a small bruise on the side of his face.

“Sorry, I slipped on the oil puddle over there...” the elf commented absentmindedly as he slowly got up with Gilliam's assistance.

Once he was standing up once again, Gilliam looked at Vincent with a raised eyebrow “Oil?”

Vincent nodded and pointed at the ground. “Yeah, oil, right there”. 

Gilliam looked in the direction he had pointed, surprised to see that it was effectively the liquid Vincent had named. The mercenary tensed, but Vincent didn't  seem to notice. 

“Now, why would a hermit have-”.

“NOW!” a rough voice interrupted from the outside, just as two flasks that contained a luminous orange substance flew into the shack from the window and the curtain. The contents of both vials were, in fact, alchemist's fire, for upon impacting the ground they sprayed surreal-looking flames. They  quickly caught on to the oil that had actually been placed practically everywhere within the small house.         

“I told you it was an ambush, but you wouldn't listen!” Gilliam screamed as he desperately looked around for a potential exit other than the main entrance. There seemed to be none, and the flames didn't waste a second in expanding throughout the floor around the two men. The fire began to lick at the curtain's base, which would mean that their only escape route was about to be turned into a flaming barrier.

“We can't waste time arguing now, Gil, we need to escape” Vincent said, somehow maintaining a serene expression and tone of voice. “I'll lead the way” he added, grabbing his spear from his back and assuming a throwing stance, aiming for the curtain.

Smoke began to envelop both mercenary and squire, and they had to hold their breath to prevent a coughing fit “What in the Hells are you doing?” Gilliam shouted as he saw his companion about to throw his only means of defense.

“Why, creating an escape” was the only response he got before Vincent's spear flew forwards, cutting a clean hole through the curtain. The departure of the weapon was followed by a cry of pain coming from the outside of the shack.

Before Gilliam could ask how Vincent knew there was an enemy waiting for them to come out, the squire had already begun to run forwards, bracing his iron shield tightly in front of him. As soon as Vincent made it outside the shack's walls he was greeted by a spear point other than his own, wielded by a half-elf wearing a leather armor. The weapon's pointy end collided with the squire's shield and thus was Vincent able to avoid getting skewered by it.

Not intending to become fuel for the flames, the bodyguard followed suit and abandoned the fiery shack as well. As he did, Gilliam noticed a second figure, this one a human, clutching Vincent's spear shaft, trying to remove the weapon from his leg. The man's own spear was near him, by the floor. Gilliam didn't miss the fact that had Vincent not thrown his weapon before exiting the shack, that spear would have impaled him the moment he walked out.   

Without wasting another second, Gilliam went for the injured man and took a solid hold of the spear that had hurt him “Here, let me help you with that, mate” he offered as he pulled out with a mighty yank, drawing a cry of pain from the man as well as the weapon. Gilliam tossed it at Vincent without even looking.

The squire's “Thanks Gil” was all he needed for a confirmation. The mercenary crossed his arms downwards, grabbed the hilts of his twin swords and drew them forth, ready to spill  blood.

Vincent was confident he could take the half-elf down, now that he had his weapon back, its familiar feeling comforting him as he grasped the wood firmly, with his shield in front of his chest, guarding him. The half-elf didn't strike again with his own spear, however, but merely stood his ground, smiling. The source of his triumphant look became obvious when he heard a longbow's  'twang' behind him and an arrow struck him on his back, piercing through the fine plate. The wound wasn't very painful, thankfully, but the next shot could be deadlier.

The elf didn't have the time to look behind him and see where the archer could've fired from, since the  shack was empty save for the flames, so he decided to focus on the threat at hand.

“Beware the sniper!” he warned Gilliam while stepping forward and making the spear's tip descend from above upon the half-elf. His enemy wasn't wielding a shield, but he bore the spear two-handedly,  lifting it horizontally and deflecting the downward stab with ease. This left Vincent's guard weakened, and his opponent took notice as he stabbed with his own spear like a lightning. But the squire had predicted the incoming counter-attack, and  he simply had to turn his shield to the right to avert the weapon from running him through his groin.      

Gilliam heard the warning just fine, but he was unable to do much on the matter, since his own opponent had lifted his fallen weapon up from the ground with a foot and was ready to fight, wounded as he was on the leg. Gilliam slashed twice quickly, more to measure the man's skill than to actually do some damage, and judging by both parries he could assume that he had seen his fair share of combat. 

The man countered the mercenary's twin blades with a quick jab, which was in turn defeated by a  downward cross-guard. Gilliam went in for the kill with both swords held forward like pincers, but had to stop in mid-thrust as a threatening growl emerged to his side. 

Within a split second, he hit the ground hard, being pinned down by a furry four-legged creature. It was all he could do to prevent the wolf from biting his neck and ending his life, using both hands to push the wolf back. Both swords lay to his sides, useless now that he had a rather hungry animal on top of him. Then a spear head came from above, forcing him to turn sideways, wolf and all, making the spear  punch through the ground instead of his arm.

“Vincent!” Gilliam cried out in a strained way, clearly seeing that he wouldn't last long if he stayed like that.

But unfortunately for him, Vincent had other things to worry about. The half-elf he was battling kept him on the defense constantly, never leaving enough time for the squire to retaliate fully. He had been able to deflect most blows, the one he had missed was no more than a cut on his leg, and he felt like his energies were leaving his body already. Maybe resting after the long trek would have been a good idea, after all. 

Just when Gilliam called his name, Vincent heard a canine growl from his left, indicating that a new wolf that was coming for him. He lowered his center of gravity by bending his knees and holding his ground the best he could, bracing for impact. The wolf jumped and the half-elf yelped in surprise as it brought him down to the hard ground.

Vincent was unable to fathom why the enemy's wolf attacked one of his masters, but he wasn't about to complain. He thanked the wolf, ignoring the fact it couldn't understand him and began moving to the right in order to assist his fallen companion. 

An arrow zipped right in front of him, bouncing off his chest plate harmlessly and informing the squire that there was still the matter of the archer. 

“I will be your opponent, bastard of House Kashtar!” yelled a lone figure atop the shack's roof. The flames had consumed most of the house's inside and the ceiling was about to follow the same fate. The archer knew this, for he casually jumped down from the wooden roof and landed merely five feet from Vincent.

“What quarrel have you with my house, assassin?!” Vincent shouted, outraged. “We are merely delivering a message to the hermit!”.

The archer was dressed in the same fashion as the other two, save for the dark green cloak that enveloped him. Vincent also noticed that the man's bow wasn't the usual size and seemed like it would require a great deal of effort to pull back for shots. Judging by the two shots that he had fired, it seemed like he had no problems handling the great bow.

“Do you really have to ask for the reason you will die tonight, Kashtar lapdog?” the archer retorted, knocking an arrow as he did. He didn't take the time to aim, or at least it didn't look like he needed to. The arrow departed from the great bow in an instant, its goal no less than Vincent's throat. The squire didn't have the time to pull up his shield or jump to the side, resorting to turning his neck on an uncomfortable angle instead. He heard the missile zoom by his ear as he felt the sharpness of the arrowhead cutting the skin of his neck, but no more.

Vincent was about to sigh in relief when he noticed the sniper about to fire another shot at him. 

“How many can you dodge?”.          

The answer was 'two', for Vincent used his loss of balance to his advantage, opting to fall to the side completely instead of returning to an upwards position. He fell into a roll and came back up on his feet, spear  and shield ready. 

“You're finished in close combat, archer!” the squire of House Kashtar announced proudly, moving in the few feet that kept them apart and thrusting the spear at the assailant. When up close, Vincent noticed that the archer was an elf, like him, but some decades older. Still, the fact that they shared the same race didn't stay his hand from angling the weapon for deadly intent. 

The archer didn't appear preoccupied by a head-to-head clash. He hooked Vincent's spear with his bow,  twisting it around into an awkward angle away from himself and thus avoiding the lethal hit. Using the momentum of the twisting maneuver, the elf completed a full circle and brought the bow sideways, like a baseball bat, smacking Vincent straight on the face, leaving a big bruise around his forehead.

“You were saying?”.

“D-damn you!” Vincent cursed, more than a bit stunned by the impact. He tried to regain his focus, but failed miserably as he stumbled back several steps. If the archer shot another arrow at him, he would be gone from this world.

“Get the archer, boy, get him!” came a familiar voice from behind. There was a feral growl, followed by a curse as the disloyal wolf bit his master on the leg. The sound of footsteps came after as Gilliam charged for the archer, who was busy asking the wolf to obey his commands.

Vincent used the chance to confirm his suspicions, looking over his shoulder to see that, indeed, the mercenary had slain both wolf and human assailants, all by himself. The half-elf's throat was but a gaping hole, the surrounding area splattered with his blood, clearly the handiwork of the rebellious wolf. 

But the leader of the 'pack' was far from finished. He kicked the dog away from him and managed to draw forth another arrow right as Gilliam pounced upon him, swords flashing from the flames of the shack. The great bow twanged, two blades sliced the air at the same time and Vincent didn't know what outcome to expect.

Gilliam restrained a cry of pain as the arrow penetrated the fine links of his enchanted chain shirt on the left side of his chest. He brought the bastard swords down with all his might, but the impact had cost him his concentration and  he only slashed the empty space where the archer had been a second ago. The mercenary had to drop the assault and clutch the arrow with one hand, trying to pry it out from his chest.

“I'll handle him, Gil, stay back” Vincent asked, seeing his friend and protector severely damaged. He couldn't tell if the arrow had reached his heart and he knew that there was little to be done if that happened. Gritting his teeth, Vincent sprinted as best as he could in his heavy armor after the elven sniper, bringing his shield tight to his chest on the way.

The opposing elf had his leg wounded after the wolf had attacked him, preventing the swift escape that he clearly desired for. As Vincent's spear came at him, he attempted the same whirling maneuver with his bow that he performed earlier, but this time his bow was rebuked by the squire's shield, bashing it aside. 

Time seemed to freeze for an instant, the fraction of a second before the spear's head went through the archer's chest and dealt an end to his life.

Any satisfaction from the kill was evaporated for Vincent when he heard Gilliam's grunt of pain behind. Desperate, the squire dropped the spear that was embedded in the archer's corpse altogether and ran after the mercenary, who was on his knees at the time, still trying to remove the missile from his chest. The wolf was by his side, seeming to understand his predicament, looking quite saddened.

“Hold still, Gil, allow me to pull” he asked as he moved Gilliam's hand away from the arrow shaft and tried to take it off himself. He was about to yank it out when he realized that it had already gone deeply enough to reach the man's heart. 

“Gil, your heart...” Vincent tried to say in a weak voice that seemed more distant by the second. It was pointless, he thought: hermit or not, he had allowed his protector to get killed for him, to take an arrow that was intended for him. How could he live with this weighing his own soul for the rest of his life?

More than anything, Vincent Ender wanted to cry and shout at the Gods to spare his friend's life. He wished that a divine entity could descend from the heavens and deliver Gilliam from death's door, but he knew that such a thing wouldn't happen.

“Here, let me take care of your friend”.

Vincent blinked twice before attempting to focus his mind back to reality and figure out that the soft female voice had come from the side. He looked over and there she was, a battered woman wearing blackened and gray rags that covered her whole body somewhat. She had messy brown hair that was covered in dust and her face indicated she must have been in her mid forties. Her slightly pointed ears indicated that she was of elven and human descent. 

The squire had no idea where she had come from, but he felt like it wasn't wrong for her to be there. Her thin hands were placed on the arrow wound as she seemed to be... chanting, Vincent realized, in a low steady rhythm. Seconds passed and a soft orange glow emerged from her open palms and moved over onto Gilliam's chest, filling the hole that the arrow had created. Suddenly the arrow came out on its own accord as the amber energy moved into the wound and filling it entirely. Vincent couldn't believe his eyes, but somehow the energy had mended the wounded completely and the only remnant of it was the broken chain links.

Gilliam opened his eyes right then and looked at the lady who had saved him “Thank you” he managed to whisper weakly, clutching the spot where the arrow had pierced him with his hand. 

Vincent was overjoyed that his bodyguard was brought back with this... magic, or whatever it was, but he had the feeling that something wasn't quite right at the same time. He looked at the woman and asked “Where did you come from?” then looked around for a brief moment. “And what did you do with the wolf?”.

The woman turned to face Vincent, appearing perplexed by the question.

“What do you mean, good elf? I am the wolf”.


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## Cerulean_Wings (Dec 31, 2007)

To all of you faithful readers out there: I'm sorry, I apologize. From now on, I'll double check every single line of my chapters before I dare post them up here. I noticed that a battle scene had a severe inconsistency at one point, and several words were misspelled throughout the whole story. I've already edited most of it, though, so it should look pretty now


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## Cerulean_Wings (Jan 1, 2008)

Chapter 5 

*Path of the Shaman*

Neither Gilliam nor Vincent spoke then, stunned as they were by the woman's proclamation. The rugged-looking half-elf appeared to be waiting for either warrior to say something.

“Since you are fine now, I will be going my way” she said, getting up from the ground and moving her hair to one side of her face. The shack's flames were still burning intensely, and thanks to the light they provided Vincent was able to see that the woman had a scar where one of her eyes had once been.

Seeing this,  the squire jumped. “Wait, my lady, where are you going, all by yourself?”.

If Gilliam had had the strength to get up as well, he would have, but the near-death experience had depleted him of his energy for the time being. “True, you have just saved my life, and now you're going away, just like that?” he managed to ask from his sitting position.

The woman stopped walking and glanced over her shoulder with her good eye at the two men. “My house is about to turn into ashes, as you can see, so I must look for another place where to live”.

Gilliam and Vincent looked at each other briefly before the mercenary pressed the matter further. “In that case, would you be able to tell us where the hermit's shack is? We were told he lives in these lands, by the Rainbow River”. 

“That much I can do, child” she said, slowly turning to face them. “The location of the hermit you seek is, currently, right in front of you”.

Vincent would have laughed, had the whole situation been more cheerful. “You are the hermit?” he asked, confused. “I had heard the hermit was a man, back in Seawall”.

“I didn't know hermits could shape shift” Gilliam muttered under his breath.

“Truly?” she responded, not sounding offended in the very least. In fact, her voice hadn't changed from that serene tone she had used from the very beginning when she healed Gilliam. “An honest mistake, I am sure” she smiled a little at the squire. “In any case, why is it that you seek me, travelers?”.  

“Ah, yes, of course...” Vincent placed the backpack on the ground hastily, rummaging through its contents until he found what he was looking for. “Here, this is for you, ahem, madam...?” he said as he offered the plain wooden case at the woman.

“My name is Kahleen of the Wind spear tribe” the hermit responded, grabbing the case with both hands. “From House Kashtar, I presume” she added while opening the lid. Somehow, she had expected this.

Vincent cleared his throat, obviously embarrassed that he hadn't presented himself. “Yes, that's correct: I am Vincent Ender, squire of House Kashtar” he straightened and gestured towards Gilliam “And this is-”

“You may call me Gilliam, currently the bodyguard of Vincent, here” the mercenary interjected, taking a small step to stand next to Vincent. He had somehow been able to stand up and looked quite pale, almost about to collapse on the squire for support. 

“Go easy on your body, child” the wise woman instructed Gilliam. “You have not fully recovered from the wound yet”.

“I'll be fine, thank you” he replied dismissively. Kahleen had taken out the folded scroll from the case and was focused in reading it, using the burning shack as a source of illumination. There was something odd with having the owner of a house reading a message as the building slowly burned down. 

It didn't take her more than ten seconds to read through the scroll, apparently.

“It's blank”.

“What” Gilliam exclaimed, unable to believe what he had heard.

Vincent seemed nervous, unable to understand how this could be. “Here, Kahleen, let me see the message, maybe you opened it on the wrong side...” the squire asked, standing next to the hermit in order to look at the message. 

Gilliam patiently waited for Vincent to confirm the scroll's content, his expression a mask that betrayed no emotion. 

“It-it's blank. There's nothing on the scroll” Vincent declared after having double-checked the scroll by himself.

“Just as I said” quipped in Kahleen.

“Decoy”.

Both squire and hermit looked up at the mercenary at the same time.

“What?” Vincent asked.

“We are a decoy, Vince” Gilliam explained, his voice quite calm, even though his insides were on fire “There's no message to deliver. None at all. But they made it look like there was one, alright”

Vincent stammered a reply, then tried again more slowly, but his words still came up in a jumble. 

“It seems like, for some reason, House Kashtar wishes to see if there are enemies lurking in the shadows” Kahleen explained to the confused Vincent.

Gilliam pointed a finger at the hermit. “Exactly”. He took a breath to steady himself before going on. “They sent you, a member of the House, with me, a bodyguard for your protection, carrying a scroll inside a wooden case, all to see if we would lure out the assassin's that were interested in the information that wasn't there in the first place”. 

While the bodyguard took several more breaths to recover from the long sentences that had used the better part of his energy, Vincent simply stared at him, looking like a frightened child that had just been taught that people eventually died in this world. He was holding the scroll like a lifeline, something to keep in touch with reality, or at least what was left of it.

“No, I don't believe it”.

Kahleen didn't say anything, and Gilliam stared back at Vincent in silence. “I don't believe any of it. My House would never deceive me in order to trick our enemies into jumping out from the darkness!” he shouted, sounding more desperate by the moment.

“I'm afraid that that's what they have done, Vincent Ender” Kahleen explained in a comforting tone, placing a hand on the elf's shoulder pad. “The evidence is all too clear”.

“NO!” With a fast jerk, Vincent moved Kahleen's hand away from him. “It's all a mistake, the scroll they've given me is the wrong one, the real message must be back in the city-”.

His desperate cry for salvaging his House's image was violently put to death by Gilliam's fist smashing Vincent on the side of his face. Vincent staggered backwards, stunned, holding one hand on the spot that he had been hit.

“You are a bigger fool than I had thought, Vincent” Gilliam took a step forward, his ire giving him sufficient strength to remain standing after having attacked his companion. “Not once, but twice are we assaulted by strangers, first Barbarians, now some sort of trained assassins, and after seeing that there was no message, you still believe it was something else than an elaborate ruse?”. 

The mercenary advanced one more step. “Your House did what anyone else would have done in a situation like this: they send an 'important message' to someone and see if someone else jumps to the bait. It's what Noble Houses do when they need to figure out who's on their side and who's not”.

Vincent had managed to regain his balance, but he wasn't about to move from the spot he was or retort  to Gilliam's words.

“Remember the savages we encountered on the road, who coincidentally knew we were after the hermit, here?” he pointed at Kahleen while his gaze focused on the squire with intensity. “They were carrying weapons with the symbol of House Grugarch, something that should ring a bell in your mind and wake you up from the dream-state you've been since you joined your House!”. Gilliam had to pause for a quick intake of air before going on. “They thought the scroll was so goddamn important, that they took the trouble of sending Barbarians after us, provided with brand new weapons”.

“But it doesn't end there, oh no: the archer we just killed a couple of minutes ago, remember him?” Gilliam didn't bother to point in the direction of the corpse. “He KNEW that you were from House Kashtar, and that fact lead him to try to kill us both”.  

“But, hey, if that still isn't enough to force you to grasp the facts and accept you've been used as bait, we can always have a friendly chat with whoever sent you, back at Seawall, and see what they have to say about this”.

Either Gilliam's words had struck true, or Vincent's outrage prevented him from saying anything in his defense. The squire nodded slowly, his eyes narrowed as he looked at Gilliam in the eye, and said “Very well. We will confirm this matter with Master Ender, once we reach the city”.

And with that, Vincent started walking in the direction they had come from, the road that lead home.

“We should hurry, Gilliam” Kahleen suggested, unaffected by the argument that had taken place.

The mercenary almost started to walk after his companion when he noticed something odd in Kahleen's words. “What do you mean by 'we', hermit?”.

The lady didn't seem to grasp what was wrong with including herself as part of the group, at least in Gilliam's view. “I mean that I will be accompanying you and your friend back to Seawall” she replied, her tone not even hinting of condescension towards the mercenary. Kahleen thought the issue settled and begun walking after Vincent.

More than anything, Gilliam wanted to scream at the heavens above and demand that the world settled down, just for a single instant. He had to resign himself to tailing the hermit woman, forcing his legs to move in spite of his weakened state.

He had managed to catch up to Kahleen when he spotted Vincent, who had somehow managed to displace his heavily armored body farther than he had expected. 

“Your friend's expectations, albeit naive, have collided with the harsh reality of the world. He will adapt or blind himself to the truth, but either way, he shall suffer greatly” she said to Gilliam in a low tone, so that Vincent couldn't catch what she was speaking of. 

“You speak the truth, unfortunately” Gilliam sighed heavily. “But in any case, there are some matters that I need to settle with you, mostly to understand who you are and why you are doing certain things”.

“Such as why I decided to follow you two after having met with you less than several moments ago?”.

“That's one. It's not that I don't trust you; you did heal my wound, after all” Gilliam grasped the open hole in his armor with a hand as he said the words. “So tell me, wise one, why are you intending to go with us?”.

“If House Kashtar sends a mere squire to draw out enemies, then they must be in need of assistance”.

“And so you go to their aid” Gilliam stated rather than asked. “I take it you have some ties with the House?”.

Kahleen nodded. “Indeed. I had once helped a Kashtar noble survive in the wilderness. It was long ago, close to a decade, but the House has a good memory, and a noble heart, too” she seemed pleased at recalling the event.

“So that was you, after all” Gilliam said to himself “Tell me, Kahleen, how was it that you healed me? I have seen priests working the magic of the Gods, but I've never seen a... hermit?” he asked curiously, unable to decide how to address the woman.

“I am a shaman, if that's what you wish to know, Gilliam” she replied without further introduction. “I deal with the spirits of our world, which permeate our lives in more than one way. My connection allows me to exchange my energy for spiritual essence, which in turn allows me to do certain things, such as repairing a breach in a being's essence”.

She made it sound simple, since she wasn't relying on many complicated terms, but Gilliam couldn't help but feel a little lost. “What do you mean when you say 'repairing a breach in a being's essence'? Are you referring to healing my soul?”.  

The shaman shook her head slowly and raised a finger pointing upwards. “Listen carefully, mercenary: every being is formed, rather than combined, with an essence. There are multiple things added to it, like organs, blood and a soul, just to name a few. The essence is that which constitutes the most basic form of every living and unliving being”. 

Kahleen made a pause for Gilliam to digest all of this. “The spirits allow me to alter the essence of  beings of this world, including my own”.

“That's how you turned into a wolf!” Gilliam exclaimed triumphantly, feeling like he grasped the concept that the shaman was talking about.

“Exactly. You are a fast learner, even though your expertise lies in the material, not the spiritual” she appraised, although her facial expression didn't change from her serene look.

Gilliam took that as a compliment and remained silent, realizing that the less he talked, the more air he could preserve for his battered body. The pain from the ghastly wound was gone, but the scar would remain in his chest. 

Vincent was still several feet ahead of them, a dark figure on the road, oblivious to their talk about spirits and essence. The mercenary wondered if his companion would be able to handle the truth, at least in the long run. He had four days of traveling to ponder on it, after all.

Almost as an afterthought, Gilliam glanced back to the shack, which was by then a pile of blackened wood, with a few embers still flying around. He found it hard to believe that Kahleen had left it without so much as a sigh or a tear. Maybe it was true, to an extent, that those who focus more on the immaterial rather than the physical lose the attachment to material goods. 

Gilliam hoped that Kahleen's eye had been taken from her after she had let go of her attachments to her body.


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## Cerulean_Wings (Jan 1, 2008)

Kahleen's stat block has been updated in the Rogue's Gallery, isn't that just pure awesomeness?   

For all of you who are interested in this story hour: *please*, I beg of you, criticism, blatant praise and all sorts of coments are more than welcome! If you don't say anything, I'll assume that I'm doing things right so far, and it's less likely I'll spot something that brings the story 'down' on my own  


Almost forgot, happy new year!


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## Cerulean_Wings (Jan 3, 2008)

I feel like I've been writing this story hour since the dawn of time. Is that normal? I also feel like my eyes burn and my head wants to explode. Is that a standard happening for novice story hour writters?   

I now give you Chapter 6, what I consider one of the best so far, of the few that I've created. 

Chapter 6 

*In the name of House Kashtar*

The road had turned from a simple dirt path into a vast, muddy pathway full of puddles and rocks to make it even more obnoxious to traverse. After the second day of traveling, a storm had broken without warning, and it had transformed the hills into a swamp overnight. Everyone's boots (and the shaman's bare feet) were caked in the sticky brownish substance all the time, and they knew it would be pointless to bother washing it away, since the next couple of miles were in the same depressing condition as the section of the road they were at. 

Kahleen walked in-between the two men, and so far hadn't complained about the road's condition or given any hints that she was annoyed bit it. Both Gilliam and Vincent glanced her way at some point, almost expecting her to put aside her silent demeanor and begin to preach to them about dealing with the muddy road and weaving analogies between their journey and life. 

But the wizened woman remained silent, no teachings forthcoming from her. At least not at the time. 

The same thing could be said of both squire and bodyguard, however, for the argument they had two nights ago had sundered the small link they had begun to share. It wasn't the kind of thing that would take time to mend, unfortunately, but the willingness of both men to bring it back.

“Do you think he'll accept the facts once we have a talk with Master Ender, the one who sent him in this mission?” Gilliam asked Kahleen as they sat at camp at night, while Vincent slept in his bedroll. They didn't bother to set up guards, since it was unlikely they would find more assassins, now that they had moved away from their intended goal, alive.

Kahleen had been watching the fire they had started when Gilliam talked to her, and she didn't remove her gaze from the flames while responding to the mercenary's question. “I say we wait for the egg to hatch, before we claim to have a chicken for dinner”.

Gilliam sighed wearily and looked away in the direction of the mountain range to the north. “What's with you shamans and all these animal analogies?”.

“It's merely the world that I am most used to, and thus the connections that I draw are related to the wild, more often than not”.

The fire began to weaken and Gilliam had to move the wood around to keep it going “I suppose there's some logic in that” he admitted. “Only time can tell how a man will react to life's challenges”.

“You wish him to face what his House did to him” Kahleen said. It wasn't a question.

The mercenary nodded, looking over Vincent's sleeping form as he did.

“Is it compassion or sympathy what drives your concern for him?” the shaman inquired, turning her head to face Gilliam.

“Maybe both” he replied absentmindedly, but a second later he blinked twice, as if confused “Now hold on, what do you mean by sympathy? How could I possibly-”.

“Relate to him?” she finished for him, smiling in a cunning way. “Why, weren't you part of an organized military group, once? I can tell by the way you talk, the way you move, and the way you fight. You didn't learn all those things from experience, but from training under the supervision of someone else. You were a knight, once, but with my limited knowledge of your cities and their factions, I don't know from where”.

“You're even smarter than I figured, shaman” Gilliam appraised with caution, his eyes slightly narrowed. “But I'm afraid that what I've left behind will remain in my memory and the memory of the one's involved only. No one else has to know the tragedies that I've been part of”.

“That's understandable” Kahleen replied with a nod. She didn't look perturbed by Gilliam's angry tone. “We all wish for our burdens to remain ours to carry on our shoulders, that's only natural”.

There was a moment of silence before the hermit continued with her words. “But remember this, Gilliam: very few can carry such weight with them for their whole lives and avoid getting crushed under it. When the opportunity to pass this weight to someone else arrives, do not hesitate to take it”.

“You don't know me, witch” Gilliam snorted and stood up from the rock he had been sitting on. “I can take my burden with me for my entire existence, if I so desire it, and there's no need for me to tell others of it” he glanced at her one last time and said “Leave me be” before storming off, moving away from the camp, intending to walk back to Seawall by himself, in the middle of the night.

He didn't do it, for some unexplainable reason, since after walking for a minute the mercenary stopped what he was doing and looked back at the fire he had started in the camp. Sitting next to it was the only person who had tried to help him. A part of Gilliam wanted to run back and apologize, but another, stronger side of him, cautioned him to avoid such a course of action. 

“I can handle it” he said to no one in particular as he glanced back at the campfire. “I can handle anything. There's nothing in this life stopping me, not as long as I have the will to fight”.

The words would've sounded full of conviction to anyone else who heard them, but to Gilliam himself they resembled a lame excuse. 

Gilliam walked back to the camp but said nothing to the shaman for the rest of the guard, until he went to sleep himself.

oOo

The next morning the three travelers got up to face another hard day of moving through mud, but none of them were about to complain, following Kahleen's example. Gilliam looked to be in a foul mood, not much better than Vincent's, and Kahleen remained in her classic relaxed state of being. It didn't seem like it was rubbing off either man, unfortunately.  

For every step that they moved forward, the ground turned greener, as they returned to the lush pastures that surrounded the southwestern area of this territory, near Seawall. Thankfully, not everything was  soaked from the storm, and so it was a far more pleasant journey than they had expected. Additionally, the march was faster, since they didn't have to take care to avoid slipping off the wet road at every step.

 It only took them an additional one day and a half to make it to the gates of Seawall, also known as the City by the Sea. Its double metal gates each had the symbol of House Kashtar on them, the icons being practically twenty feet tall. It was the early morning when they reached the city gates.

The Honor Guard, the city's military power, guarded the door's with sentries placed on top of the walls and with additional men positioned by the gates themselves. Vincent saluted the guard that was closest to him as he passed, and the armored man gave a quick signal to the others in response after returning the salute, which made the gates seemingly open on their own for the trio to enter.

“Have you ever been to Seawall?” Gilliam inquired, without looking at Kahleen.

“Yes” she responded, pausing to admire the entrance. “It was a while ago, and it might be different than what I had seen back then”.

With nothing else to be said, both shaman and mercenary quickly followed after the squire of House Kashtar inside the metropolis. The city was shaped roughly like a rectangle, and its several districts had an almost identical shape. The Explorer's district, home of the Explorer's Guild, wass located in the center area, the busiest section without a doubt, while the Poor district, aptly named after the monetary status of its residents, resided in the southwest section, right next to the Port district, where the warehouses and docks were located. 

The remaining districts were the Noble's area, where the upper class folk inhabited richly adorned, good looking houses and mansions; the Merchant's district was located adjacent to the Port district and the Explorer's district: it was designed this way for practical purposes, so that merchants could reach the port, the source of their goods; the Explorer's guild, a profitable place where to get connections with potential clients; and finally the Merchant's district itself, where the real business happened.

As they walked through the Explorer's district, busting with travelers, adventurers, and many other people, Gilliam exchanged his knowledge about the port city with Kahleen, mostly to see if there was something he was missing about the place. He had been around for more than a month, but for a city of this size a month wasn't nearly enough to know it full well. 

Apparently, he knew as much of the area as the shaman did, and he was surprised that she was so knowledgeable of a 'civilized' land. “I would have expected you to be more... skittish, with the city's noise and population” he admitted. 

The half-elf lady merely smiled “Few things can shake my resolve, child; this is not one of them”.

Gilliam left it at that, and decided to remain silent, at least until they reached their destination. The three reached House Kashtar's home after nearly an hour of walking: it was called Valor's Banner, a fortified keep with the symbol of the House proudly displayed in banners, which were placed on top of every tower and wall. The sight was empowering and spectacular, and such a grand display of craftsmanship gave pause even to those who resented authority. Gilliam couldn't help but feel a twinge of regret at seeing such a place, for it sparked fond memories of a military group he had formed part of.

Just like at the city gates, Vincent merely had to salute the guards at the entrance of the keep to gain access to its interior. The guards did eye Gilliam with some suspicion, but much to his surprise they bowed at Kahleen when she passed by them. 

They followed Vincent across several rooms, each decorated in the same proud, military fashion, with ceremonial weapons and armor everywhere, along with paintings of notable leaders and members of House Kashtar. Several Honor Guards could be found throughout the fortress in several rooms, patrolling, chatting, or simply relaxing for a small period of time. Eventually, the group reached an exquisite oak door, with gold lines running through it to great effect. 

“Master Ender's room” the elven squire announced as he stared ahead. “Do be mindful of his status as the Master of the Honor Guard. He is Pledged to House Dagoth, but his devotion to my House is not diminished by this”.

Within the deep recesses of Gilliam's mind, something clicked into place. He wasn't sure what it was, at the time, but it was connected to the Master of the Honor Guard.

“Is he your... relative, related through blood in any way to you?” Gilliam inquired.

“No. The Ender clan gives each and every member the name of the clan for a last name, and Draegen Ender is not connected to me through blood”. 

“Very well then, let's face the man who sent us to Kahleen's house” the mercenary looked at the shaman as he said this, but the woman's expression was unreadable. Damn mystics and their obscure ways, he thought, but didn't say.

After knocking three times, a man's voice came from within the room ahead to allow them passage, and Vincent lead the way once more as he opened the expensive door in order to go inside. 

Master Ender's room wasn't that much better than the rest of the keep, with the exception that there were trophies displayed within transparent glass cases on top of wooden stands. The room was quite spacious, offering about thirty feet from beginning to end in both dimensions. The owner's heavy wooden desk was placed opposite to the door, near the window, where beams of light illuminated the room naturally.

Draegen Ender was dressed as he always did, no matter when or where: he wore a magnificent suit of banded mail, the armor's texture being dark blue rather than pale gray, with the symbol of House Kashtar, a silver helm on a blue field, engraved on the center of the chest plate, occupying most of it. It was made out of one of the toughest minerals in the world, Divine Steel, and it was one of the priciest to obtain. The human's face was grave, absolutely serious, and he seemed the type to keep a professional appearance at all times. His black-grayish beard was cut short, and his hair was brushed backwards, like a raven's. He looked about fifty years old, but his physique indicated that he could still put up a fight. With anyone.  

“Welcome back, squire Vincent” the man said after the three had entered the chamber and closed the door behind them. He was currently sitting behind his desk and had pushed aside some papers he was reading in order to look at his guests.

“Thank you, Master Ender” the squire returned with a salute. His movements were stiff, as he was clearly anxious to meet with the one who sent him in the mission to the hermit's house.

Vincent stayed there, standing upright on the spot, unmoving, waiting for his superior to continue.

Draegen saluted as well, and only then did he stand up from the chair and move around the desk to approach the trio “You have brought your bodyguard with you” he stated casually.

“Surprised that we're still alive after the two attempts on our lives?” Gilliam inquired with an annoyed look, arms folded across his chest. He could've sworn he heard Kahleen sigh right next to him.

“I'm glad you've both made it back” came the retort from the high ranking man. 

Gilliam gritted his teeth and had to do his best to avoid adding swears to his words “I'm the man that your House hired to protect him,” he pointed at Vincent “from certain assassins that were on the way to the hermit, here” he finished with a gesture towards Kahleen, who simply nodded. “My name is Gilliam”.

The Master of the Honor Guard didn't look offended by the mercenary's tone and instead looked  over at the hermit to smile at her “It's an honor to have you back, wise one” he offered with a salute. “I thank you, in the name of House Kashtar, for coming to offer your help”.

“No need, Master Ender; I'm merely repaying the favor that I owe to your fine House”.  

Gilliam's mouth hung slightly open while Vincent's face was constrained with anxiety as he kept looking at Draegen, waiting for the right moment to voice the questions he had been meaning to ask since four nights ago.

“Now, back to your task, squire Vincent” Master Ender offered, turning his attention back to the elf “I take it, that with miss Kahleen here, you have been able to deliver the package?”.

“No sir, I wasn't able to fulfill the task I was given”.

Master Ender raised an eyebrow. “And why is that?”.

Vincent swallowed once and took a deep breath. Gilliam was holding his, a couple of steps  behind him.

“You see, Master Ender, there was no message, therefore I couldn't deliver it to the shaman”.

The leader of the city guard received these words and betrayed no emotion after processing them. “Indeed, a message that doesn't exist can't be delivered, that's perfectly understandable”.

“But tell me, squire, what of the assassins your bodyguard, here, mentions? Have you actually been attacked on your way to the hermit's cabin?”.

Vincent nodded. “Yes, sir. We were attacked twice, once by Barbarians, the second time by trained professionals at Kahl-I mean, the hermit's shack”.

“We have two witnesses for the first one, three for the second, will that be enough?” Gilliam inquired angrily while clenching his fists by his sides.                      

Draegen appeared to ignore the mercenary's question. “I see” he noted with a brief nod to Vincent. “Is there anything you wish to ask about your mission, now that it's concluded?”.

Gilliam stopped feeling furious for an instant, when it came to him that this man had well expected having to answer to Vincent's more important questions. In his mind, it didn't make any sense, though.

With his hands firmly by his sides, back straight and his chin up, Vincent opened his mouth “Why did I risk my life for a message that wasn't there in the first place, Master Ender?”.

The words were uttered with the utmost respect, but to the humble squire they still sounded brash and aggressive.

Just like Gilliam predicted, however, Draegen's expression seemed placid, as if he had indeed seen this coming. “A good question, squire, a very valid request for clarification” the man said, taking a seat back at his desk as he did. Folding his hands together, the old warrior began to talk. 

“The purpose of your task was twofold: firstly, to verify if there was a group or faction interested in harming House Kashtar”.

Gilliam smiled triumphantly, since he had known it all after the fight with the sniper by the burning shack.

“Secondly, you were sent to bring the hermit, miss Kahleen, back to Seawall, to assist us. It so happens that House Dagoth's quarrel with House Ganellar is escalating by the day, and allied Houses on both sides are being drawn into the conflict. House Kashtar has supported House Dagoth for a long time, and it will continue to do so”.

“What about House Grugarch, the House of Men?” interrupted Gilliam. “The Barbarians that tried to kill us had weapons from that faction”.

“Grugarch is an ally of Ganellar, this isn't recent news. But the fact that they've contacted Barbarians to enforce their actions is... questionable, to say the least” the old man paused and closed his eyes as he considered this. “In any case, you have succeeded in both goals, squire Vincent, and thus I congratulate you,” he looked straight at the elf “and your bodyguard, Gilliam” his gaze moved over to the astounded mercenary “for the accomplishment”.

Silence enshrouded the room, then, and no one made a sound. Gilliam wasn't very pleased with the Master's words. Standing right across from Master Ender, Vincent didn't look satisfied, either.

The squire cleared his throat. “Excuse me, Master Ender, but...” he began unsteadily, mustering a great deal of courage to even dare to speak in front of a higher ranking man without permission “...why was I deceived about the true purpose of our mission? I had thought House Kashtar's ideals were of honor and respect, not about deceit and obscurity”.

Draegen Ender's visage hardened, then, and he stood up from his seat like an executioner who was about to get to his work with grim determination.

“Squire, if there's a good time in your life to learn this basic truth, that time is now, here, in this room” he placed each gauntleted hand upon the desk, leaning forwards “We live in a world where the honest and hardworking are preyed upon by the greedy and devious; where lies obfuscate the truth; where the goals of each one of us get smudged, darkened and obscured, all because we refuse to face our enemies in the proper way, whatever it might be”.

“Yes, Kashtar is the House of Honor, among other things; but the truth, painful as it is, leads us to recur to tactics that are without honor and less than worthy of our standards. This is done to preserve the ideals of our Noble House, not to condone such actions”.

Gilliam couldn't take it anymore and took a step forward. “How in the Hells do you intend to represent honor and integrity with lies and trickery?!” he shouted at Draegen.

“And how in the Hells do you intend to strive for justice and equality with no House at all, mercenary?!” the man shouted back, his booming voice backing up the conviction behind his words. “If we don't lure out our foes, how can we defend from them? How can we fight for honor when our enemies take a stab behind our backs, all because we refuse to face them through less than honorable means?”.

With a disgusted look and a couple of mumbled words, Gilliam turned and walked to the door. “Yeah, good luck with that” he turned the handle and pushed it open. “Your men will depart you as soon as they find out they're being used, like Vincent, here” Gilliam added without looking back. 

The sound of the door being closed violently resounded within the room, leaving the three remaining occupants a bit shocked. Draegen Ender shook his head, then, and said “That man is a fool. A righteous well-intending fool, but a big fool nonetheless”.   

Vincent didn't think he could understand those last words, but Kahleen did, all too well.

“Master Ender, if I may...?” the shaman said, for the first time in a long while, gesturing with a hand at the door.

“Yes, please do talk to him, miss Kahleen” the man replied with a nod and a quick smile.

While Kahleen left the room as well, Vincent realized he was the only one left besides Master Ender. The old leader seemed to read his mind, though, and asked “Anything else, squire Vincent?”.

This time, Vincent was smiling, troubled no longer. “No sir, not at all. Thank you for explaining this matter to me” he said with a salute.

“You now know, Vincent Ender, that in the name of House Kashtar, we must do all we can to preserve the House's ideals, even if we must go against them at times to do so. Survival comes first; honor, loyalty and courage come second”.

“For if there's no Noble House in which to base those values, how can we stand for them at all?”.


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## Cerulean_Wings (Jan 5, 2008)

I'm afraid I need to put this story hour in hiatus for an indefinite amount of time. The amount of physical effort it takes me to develop each chapter is just too much for me if no one replies to the story, even if only to critizice what's wrong with it.

I might go back to writing if I feel motivated enough, but then again, it's unlikely, as the story doesn't seem to be good for the taste of the majority  :\


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## the Jester (Jan 6, 2008)

Just some advice: don't write a story hour for the replies, do it for the joy of writing. I have a bunch of SHs that I work hard on regularly, and I'm lucky to get one response per 12 updates. 

Also, you just started a week ago. Honestly, complaining that nobody is responding at this stage of the game is both an exercise in histrionics and shows a great sense of entitlement. I recommend, instead, steadily updating _for yourself_ and waiting to see if anyone comments within, say, 6 months.

Good luck! A story hour is not an easy thing to do, but at least you don't have to keep up with a game. Oh, and by the way, warning people not to look up someone else's world that you're using for a not-game-based story in order to avoid spoilers... that aren't your creation in the first place... is... a little off-putting.


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## BLACKDIRGE (Jan 6, 2008)

Cerulean_Wings said:
			
		

> I'm afraid I need to put this story hour in hiatus for an indefinite amount of time. The amount of physical effort it takes me to develop each chapter is just too much for me if no one replies to the story, even if only to critizice what's wrong with it.
> 
> I might go back to writing if I feel motivated enough, but then again, it's unlikely, as the story doesn't seem to be good for the taste of the majority  :\




I agree with the Jester; it's a bit early to worry about replies. 

However, I think the problem with your story hour is that there is no reason for anyone to check it out. This has nothing to do with your writing; most people won't ever get that far. Why? Your title is bland as hell. "War of the Noble Houses" doesn't tell me anything; it's not interesting, and it sounds clichéd. Successful story hours hinge on getting people to look at your stuff, and the best way to do that is to have a snazzy title, or at least an interesting opening post. 

Also, writing a straight fiction story hour presents another challenge. Most story hours here are based upon a setting or adventure arc people are familiar with, which gives them a frame of reference when reading. Unless you are already an established author on the boards - I'm pretty sure Destan or Sepulchrave could start a story hour about their grocery list and get 10,000 views on the first day - you need something to draw people in. For instance, when I began my first story hour, I chose a subject and a title that I knew would get people to at least take a look at my stuff. I knew that Metamorphosis: From Dretch to Demon Lord would get people to at least take a look (gamers are suckers for demons   ); after that, of course, it was all up to me to keep them interested. 

So, my advice to you is to think about ways to draw people in. Change your title, and give us more information on the setting and characters in your first post. In short, give people a reason to click on your thread.

Now, I admit, I didn’t start writing my story hour just for the fun of it; I wanted to get noticed. That may not be your goal, so my advice may not be as useful to you. 

BD


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## Cerulean_Wings (Jan 7, 2008)

First of all, thank you both for responding to my comment. It shows that you want me to go on with the story, however that might be, and that you care 

BLACKDIRGE - I'm afraid I'm not good at creating a title to "snatch" people's attention and draw them in, since you've pointed out how cliche it sounds. I can try for another one, but really, I've got no point of reference from which to say "this is good" or "this won't work". 

I'll provide a link to The North's site, that way people can know about the setting without me writing 1,000 word essay.

I'd love to write a story based on a known setting or adventure, but I'm afraid I don't have any, and I'm not willing to purchase one just to write a story about it.

the Jester - It's hard to write up updates for the sake of it: a story hour that gets ignored is like a play that occurs with an empty threater, a movie played in an empty cinema, and so on. It's discouraging, since it doesn't seem like anyone's interested, and thus I lose faith in the story's quality. I'm not making this story hour to be "popular", but to see how far I can get in story writing. So far, it seems like I'm not getting very far, based on the amount of replies.

I don't know what I was expecting when I started the story... one reply per update? Maybe one reply per two updates? But after Chapter 6, which took me 2 hours to write, with my crappy wrists and crappy eyesight to boot, and got nothing in terms of comments (positive or negative), I just said "screw it" and decided to move on with things. 

As of now, I'm not sure if I want to go on with this. It's too much effort for, what? My words echoing into the forum's void, nothing more. But hey, I'm pretty resilient, so I might pick it up after a couple of days.


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## BLACKDIRGE (Jan 7, 2008)

Cerulean_Wings said:
			
		

> First of all, thank you both for responding to my comment. It shows that you want me to go on with the story, however that might be, and that you care
> 
> BLACKDIRGE - I'm afraid I'm not good at creating a title to "snatch" people's attention and draw them in, since you've pointed out how cliche it sounds. I can try for another one, but really, I've got no point of reference from which to say "this is good" or "this won't work".
> 
> ...




I like the new title. "Unforgiven Lands" is interesting enough to make me click into the thread and at least read the first post. Now, just be patient. If you write it, they will come.   

BD


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## Boss (Jan 7, 2008)

Well, I admit, I am not one that posts my thoughts on a particular story hour too often, and that is a failing on my part.  I will say that I have enjoyed reading this one so far.  The characters are interesting, and I like the world setting so far (haven't been to the wiki, as I wanted to read the story hour as it was unfolded).

That being said, only you can decide if it is worth the effort you have put into it.  I just wanted to let you know that there are people out here that are reading your story-hour as often as possible.


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## dungeon blaster (Jan 7, 2008)

You can always look at the number of views the SH has received to see if people are looking at it. For most story hours, replies are not very common, maybe one in every 6+ posts. It really just depends on the SH.

I know how hard it can be to keep the commitment to writing. The first SH I did lasted maybe twenty posts before I tired of the story... after that it didn't seem worth it to post.


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## Cerulean_Wings (Jan 7, 2008)

Thank you for posting your opinion on the story hour, Boss, it gives me a lot of encouragement to pick it up from where I left and move on with the next chapter   

I'll definitely keep going, now that I've changed what wasn't right in the beginning. I'll give myself more time and more patience


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## the Jester (Jan 7, 2008)

I'll rephrase and reiterate my advice: don't write for the comments, write for the writing. 

Given time, readers- and comments- may come. But, seriously now, _give it time._ Otherwise you'll grow into a young, bitter onion.


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## Cerulean_Wings (Jan 7, 2008)

the Jester said:
			
		

> I'll rephrase and reiterate my advice: don't write for the comments, write for the writing.
> 
> Given time, readers- and comments- may come. But, seriously now, _give it time._ Otherwise you'll grow into a young, bitter onion.




That's good advice


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## Cerulean_Wings (Jan 8, 2008)

It's good to be back to writing! It took me less than I expected, too, so double plus good!   

This chapter is about switching a couple of wrongs into rights, more than anything, thus it's focused on character development. Don't worry, you won't get something like this for a long time again, which back to action! And by action, I mean bloodshed.

Just you wait   


CHAPTER 7 

*Expired contract * 

Gilliam walked through the densely populated streets of the Merchant's district, hands inside the pockets of his black tattered leather trousers, his cloak enveloping his athletic figure in order to prevent people from spotting his weapons. The last thing he wanted was to start up some trouble with the Honor Guard. He didn't look the part of someone intent in causing any, even with his short copper-colored hair all ruffled and messy from all the days on the road, with the added factor of no baths in a long while.  

“Damn House Kashtar” he mumbled, kicking a rock that was on his way as he did. The stone flew high in the air and almost hit a merchant that was walking by. Gilliam ignored the curses directed at him and continued his walk. To where, not even Gilliam himself knew.

“Damn Vincent” This time, he bumped against a horse that was standing nearby, tethered to a tree. The animal protested the assault with a whiny, but did no more to make the mercenary pay for his carelessness.  

The streets of the Merchant's district were very crowded, especially in the afternoon, when everyone rushes to the stalls and shops in order to obtain goods at the last minute. It's usually the time when the best deals are done, in a rather hurried way.

“And damn that imbecile of Master Ender!” Gilliam finished saying his last curse just as a man in orange robes bumped into him, crying something along the lines of “The end is near! All people must be ready for the twilight of the land!” in a desperate tone. No one seemed to be paying attention to the man's predictions of an incoming apocalypse, however.

“Damn you cultists of the Dying Sun, too” he added, shoving the robed person out of the way. The cultist kept proclaiming that “The end is near!”, ignoring the fact that he had been violently displaced from the middle of the street against a solid brick wall. 

If there was one thing he didn't like of this city, it was the abundance of maniacs like that one, combined with the fact that, for some reason, the Honor Guard refused to prosecute them, and so they were allowed to run free, spreading their prophesies of catastrophe. So far, the cult of the Dying Sun had predicted that the world would go wrong every year, since thirty years ago, when it first started. 

By Gilliam's estimation, they had been wrong for thirty years, so what guarantee was there that they would ever get the date for the apocalypse right?

He shook his head in order to displace the thoughts he had about the cult, and focused his mind on what had happened two hours ago. “Why can't he see he's being used by his own House? Vincent, ever the fool, he couldn't come to terms with it, and decided to pretend everything was alright...” he said to no one in particular. He stopped talking, then, when he realized that others might see him as a madman, talking to himself as he walked by.

His attention was directed to his left, as he heard a dog bark at him from an alleyway. Gilliam decided to stay there and looked to the side, spotting a haggard-looking street dog, which barked at him once again.

“Go away” he commanded with a wave of his hand, annoyed.

The mutt didn't seem the type that was easily convinced, and it barked again at the mercenary.

“What?” Gilliam asked, spreading his arms to the sides, palms open. “You want food? I don't have any food. Go away, already!”.

Since the animal kept barking at him, now more fiercely, for whatever reason, Gilliam felt in the mood for kicking it away. He took a step forward, brought one leg back to gain momentum with it...

but he froze in that position, balancing on one foot, as he noticed that the street dog only had one eye. 

“You” he mouthed, stupefied by the sudden realization of the dog's identity. Subconsciously, he dropped the leg back into its original position as he stared at the one-eyed dog.

The animal barked for one last time before turning tail and trotting deep into the alleyway. He wasn't sure why, but Gilliam felt compelled to follow it, as much as he wanted nothing to do with the dog.

They moved through the darkened narrow streets for what seemed like an eternity. Eventually, the dog stopped at a fork, looking to the sides, as if to check for anyone else spying on them. Satisfied that the place was devoid of other people, the dog barked happily and started to glow with an orange aura, which covered its body completely. The glowing form shape shifted, and within seconds it had obtained the silhouette of a humanoid.

“Kahleen, why did you make me follow you to this alleyway?”.

The shaman's face was inscrutable, as always. Her hands were folded in front of her, by her waist. “Why, to talk to you in private, Gilliam”.

The mercenary raked a hand through his messy hair, then sighed. “About, what? The whole fiasco with House Kasthar, the House of 'Nobility'?” he asked, pronouncing the word 'nobility' with great sarcasm.

“Indeed. It seems like you feel like your task as a bodyguard is over” she replied, unmolested by Gilliam's tone. “but Master Ender still needs your services, to look over Vincent”.

“Oh, does he?” the mercenary spun around slowly, arms extended horizontally. “That's too bad, for my contract is over. It's done, since no contract, no money, and no money...”.

“You did this for the money, then?” Kahleen inquired, sounding honestly confused.

Gilliam stopped spinning around senselessly and faced the shaman squarely. “I most certainly didn't do it for money, witch” his features clearly expressed his sentiments: anger.

“What's impeding you from helping Vincent with his next assignment, then?” the shaman prodded, again ignoring the mercenary's increasingly violent tone and use of words.

“Maybe it's because I don't like the idea of being used as a puppet by high ranking folk, or perhaps it has to do with House Kashtar deceiving me about a task that could've very well cost me my life”.

This didn't look like an impediment for Kahleen to keep trying to convince Gilliam. She remained there, standing on the dirty alleyway, bare feet and all, her face a mask of serenity. “Does it bother you that a general commands his soldiers to fight wars for him?”.

“What?” Gilliam practically spat, taken by surprise by the change of subject.

“Answer the question”. 

Gilliam didn't know where she was going with this, but decided to play along. “No, it doesn't”.

Kahleen raised an eyebrow. “Why not?”.

“It's what generals and soldiers are supposed to-” he was about to explain, but he held himself back upon realizing what the shaman was trying to do.

“Very clever, lady, very cunning of you” he appraised with a smile, pointing at her with a finger. The smile evaporated quickly, though, as he said the next sentence. “Different scenario! The general doesn't deceive his troops of what they need to do or why; that's the underlying difference between House Kashtar and your example”.

Nodding, the shaman responded “You are right in that: both you and the squire have been tricked about the true purpose of the mission you performed”. She moved some of her brown hair to the side of her face, so that her one eye could see and the scar would be covered. “But the true task, forcing the predators out of the shadows, couldn't have been accomplished without the deceit in it”.

“Aah, so now the end justifies the means?” Gilliam pointed out accusingly. “I was expecting more from you, Kahleen” he added, disgusted.

“You make it sound like it's an intrinsically bad thing,” she retorted without missing a beat “and that you don't act that way”.

“Of course I don't!” he yelled, outraged. “My goals never justify whatever atrocities I commit to fulfill them!”.

Kahleen merely glanced at the mercenary's waist, where his belt held his twin swords in their respective scabbards, along with ten sharpened knives. “What about your weapons, then?”.

“I use them to protect myself and my clients. What about them?”. 

“Tell me, Gilliam, what is your goal?” Kahleen inquired, apparently changing subjects once again, without warning.

Gilliam was taken aback by the question and had to spend a couple of seconds mustering a coherent response to it. “A world of peace” he responded at length. “That's my goal in this short life of mine”.

The shaman nodded. “And how will you reach this goal of yours, child?”. 

Since he felt compelled, once again, to play along with the shaman's mind game, the mercenary sighed and responded “By maintaining the peace through my own efforts, that's how” he explained dryly. 

“Would you be willing to hurt those who disrupt the peace?”.

“Yes” came the automatic response from Gilliam, and it was then that he realized how he had fell for the hermit's trick.

“I stand by my previous assessment of you, shaman” he admitted, smiling once again. “You're cunning”.

Kahleen smiled, or so it seemed to Gilliam, for it lasted less than a second, and the wizened woman walked slowly towards him. When she was up close to him, with barely an inch or two separating their bodies, Kahleen placed a hand on Gilliam's shoulder and looked at him in the eyes in a disconcerting manner. Her words came out as if originated from a rushing river, soothing, and yet powerful.

“You have now seen, Gilliam, how your own views match with what you denounce as immoral to others. Your own morality allows for actions that go against your goals, as long as they further them in the end. Yet you accuse others of doing the same”.

For the life of him, Gilliam couldn't avert his gaze from the hermit's one gray eye, nor could he shut his ears from the words that emerged from her mouth, like an unstoppable torrent intent in drowning him.

“Why? Why can't you see that everyone must make hard decisions at one point in life? You're not the only one that had moral dilemmas, nor will you be the last one. If you kill warmongers in the name of peace, why can't House Kashtar deceive its members in the name of honor, nobility, and many other virtues?”.

“It seems to me, Gilliam, that you have declared yourself judge of this land, its people, its inhabitants, after having to deal with a crushingly difficult moment of your existence”.

The mercenary swallowed hard, but he still couldn't as much as blink his eyes in response to Kahleen's words. He felt like his inner most thoughts had been torn inside-out and were now being examined by a divine entity.

“But the decision of remaining a judge, or stepping down and living like a mortal being, with your life, its complications, intricacies, and difficult choices, is yours”.

She didn't snap her fingers, but all of a sudden Gilliam felt like he could move (and think) once again. His eyes were wide, and he looked like he was about to collapse from the shaman's speech. Unsteadily, he backed away from the woman and crashed his back against a nearby wall, using it as a support.

“I will go now, back to Valor's Banner. I shall retrieve my equipment and go after Vincent, who is probably being briefed on his next assignment, as we speak”.

With that, the hermit turned her back and began to walk towards one of the alleyways, the one that lead back to the keep the fastest.

“Equipment?” was all that Gilliam was able to mumble. Since when did hermits have material possessions?

Kahleen didn't look over to give her last words to the perplexed man.

“The choice is yours, Gilliam”.

He was left in silence, listening to the shaman's barely audible footsteps as she left the area.


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## Mahtave (Jan 8, 2008)

CW,

Let me chime in as well; I am enjoying your story very much.  This last chapter, I thought, really built some good character development. I like the interactions between all three main characters you have created; don't stop doing this.

I too am a avid lurker on these boards, only occasionally posting when something really catches my eye. When I do see something worth addressing I will drop a line or two and voice my thoughts.  

Rest assured, if you write it, people will read it, especially on this board.  If it keeps the readers attention, they will continue reading.  

So far, so good!  I look forward to your next installment.


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## Cerulean_Wings (Jan 8, 2008)

Mahtave, your words, combined with all the encouragement I've received so far, give me the strength of will to keep this train rolling 

Thank you very much for the reply, I appreciate it immensely.


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## Cerulean_Wings (Jan 9, 2008)

CHAPTER 8

*Night hunt*

“How many will accompany me into the building, sir?” Vincent asked politely, not really expecting anything. Any number greater than zero was enough, in his mind.

Master Ender revised his notes, all placed neatly on top of his elegant and sturdy desk, before replying. “Four regular soldiers from the Honor Guard, and a priest of Berethor to provide you with healing, as I'm afraid it will come to spilling blood once you make contact with the spies”.

The room was illuminated by a lantern that hung from the ceiling, with the assistance of the dying sunlight from the window. It was practically twilight, now.

“Kahleen, the shaman, will be assisting you as well, out of her own free will” he added.

Vincent nodded. “Understood”.

“Have you any questions about the task at hand, squire Vincent?”.

“Only one, Master Ender”.

There was a knock on the door, which sounded a bit insistent, but Draegen dismissed it with a wave of his hand. “Speak, then”.

“Do we need to leave all of the spies alive, or will only one suffice?” Vincent asked. “They have information about the factions that are plotting against our House and House Dagoth, but I'm unsure on how much we value the knowledge each one of them has”.

The old man considered this for just an instant. “If possible, bring them all alive back to Valor's Banner, so that they can be properly interrogated” he commanded, standing up from his chair to flex his leg muscles and regain some circulation.

Someone knocked on the door from outside the room again, this time even more insistently, and rapping the wood more violently. There were also some words being said by the anxious visitor, but the wood dampened their sound and meaning. 

“Who is knocking my door in such a manner?” harrumphed the veteran warrior as he moved towards the door. “It better not be one of the guards, or he will have to face my ire and his early departure from the Honor Guard!”.

Vincent just stood there, watching Master Ender reach the handle and open the door. 

Gilliam was on the other side, slowly pacing away from the room entrance, his hands clenched in fists at his sides. He was breathing fast, as if he had been running recently.

“...I'm going to slaughter the whole keep if he doesn't open the god damned door...” he was saying to himself as he waited.

“Your plan of making a massacre out of the keep has been foiled by the highest ranking officer finding out about it before you could even start, mercenary” Master Ender commented dryly from the doorway. 

The mercenary spun around, clearly caught by surprise, and stammered a response. “I-I didn't mean that” he said, pointing a finger at Draegen. “and you know it”. 

“Even if you did, you would've been in no position to accomplish the promise, in any case”. The Master of the Honor Guard took a slow breath to calm his own ire. “What's this about, mercenary? Why are you back? We did give you your payment for protecting our squire”.

Gilliam settled down at that. “As a matter of fact, yes I do, Master Ender” he admitted.

Draegen merely awaited from the doorway, an eyebrow raised.

“I would like to renew the contract, and to continue acting as Vin-ahem, squire Vincent's bodyguard”.

From within the room, Vincent smiled to himself, but didn't say anything, with Master Ender being within earshot.

“An interesting change of opinion, in so little time” Draegen observed.

Gilliam shrugged. “There are some who have... very convincing words”.

Draegen nodded. “If that's the case, then I see no reason to not take you back as a bodyguard. We do need as many strong arms as possible” the man said, turning back into the room he was just in, and starting to walk towards his desk

“Squire Vincent, do explain the matter to your bodyguard, so that he may be well informed before the mission. We'll get the paperwork done in a minute, Gilliam”.

The mercenary, hired once again, walked into the room with some caution, trying not to make any sudden movements to upset the Master of the Honor Guard. Vincent was practically beaming at him as he entered.

“So tell me, squire Vincent” Gilliam begun with exaggerated politeness. “Where are we going this time, and when do we leave?”.

The elf walked closer to Gilliam so that he wouldn't have to speak too loud. “We must go to a warehouse in the Port district, accompanied by five others from the Honor Guard, one of them a priest, and capture the spies that will go there”.

“When will these spies reach the place?”.

“Tonight”.

Gilliam raised an eyebrow and had to resist the urge to make a comment about that.

A soft knock on the door drew the attention of the three men in the chamber. The door was open half-way, but Kahleen had opted to be polite and knock anyway.

If it wasn't for her missing eye and messy brown hair, no one would've recognized her: instead of dressing with her tattered leathers, she was wearing a fine suit of green, scaly leather, which covered her lean figure from top to bottom. It seemed to be made out of a lizard, rather than a deer, the typical resource for leather armor. Hanging from her shoulder was a longbow that looked quite old, but at the same time remained sturdy. It was made of wood dark as the night, and it appeared to have been carved flawlessly, leaving no imperfections on its figure.

“That's what you meant by 'equipment', back then” Gilliam noted in a low tone, so that Draegen wouldn't hear him.

“Ah, miss Kahleen, you have returned. Please, come in” Draegen observed as he looked up from his desk in the direction of the shaman. “You've found your things, I take it?”.

“Yes, everything was as I had left it” the shaman responded with a bow after entering the room. “Even Blood Moon remains in perfect condition, and this bow has lived its fair share of years”.

“Good. You arrived just in time: the squire, here, was just explaining to his bodyguard, Gilliam, about the place where they will go in a matter of hours”.

The shaman nodded. “Very well”. She then looked expectantly at the duo of Vincent and Gilliam.

“We'll tell you as we walk” suggested Gilliam, too tired to hear the explanation, no matter how short it had been.

“If you say so, Gil” Vincent agreed, but quickly caught himself and added “-liam”.

The three of them moved out into the corridor, united once again. Gilliam chuckled, once they had cleared a fair distance from Master Ender's chamber.

“You can call me Gil, if you prefer; no need to be formal”.

“Likewise. You may address me as Vince, unless you like my full name better”.

“You may not call me anything other than 'Kahleen'” the shaman declared, rather unexpectedly.

Both men stopped walking and looked at her with curiosity.

“Why not?” asked Vincent.

Kahleen smiled “Because I like my name” she responded simply, and kept walking, just like that, leaving squire and bodyguard by themselves in the corridor, no less confused than before.

“She's a weird one, I must say” Gilliam commented as he looked at the shaman walk away.

“Definitely not a common personality in these lands” Vincent concluded.

Then they looked at each other, smiled, and resumed their walk.

---oOo---

It was pitch dark outside the warehouse, save for a couple of lanterns that were kept alive by the guard at night, but they offered little illumination, as the nearest one was twenty feet away. The building wasn't close to any main structures of the Port district, and judging by its appearance, it had seen better days, probably years ago, if not decades. It had two levels, and the higher one was accessible by stairs that were inside the place. The front doors, made entirely out of wood, were locked by a crude metal mechanism that could collapse at any moment.

Eight figures stood outside the entrance, practically enshrouded in darkness.

“An abandoned warehouse, huh? Best place to find spies, if they're stupid enough to utilize it” one of them commented.

 Four of them wore similar uniforms, which consisted of breastplates, along with short spears, a back up longsword, and a small steel shield. They dressed just like regular soldiers of the Honor Guard, each and every one of them.

The fifth one was clad in a chain shirt, for added mobility, and carried no weapons. Priest's of Berethor rarely if ever could be caught carrying instruments of war. The followers of the God of Clarity didn't believe in violence as the only answer, and thus offered their services as healers to the city guard. The man had his holy symbol with him, a silver medallion with the image of an open eye, glowing with power.    

The other three were Vincent, Gilliam, and Kahleen. The shaman had stayed as she was before, with her lizard-hide armor and dark longbow. Vincent wore his full-plate, a symbol of status as a member of House Kashtar, along with his short spear and heavy steel shield. Against Gilliam's critics, the squire refused to carry a secondary weapon, in case his spear is lost during battle. 

The mercenary resigned himself to worry about his own equipment, for the time being: his twin bastard blades were in their scabbards, his chain shirt was properly adjusted, and his knives were hanging loosely from his leather belt, in case he needed to grab one for melee or throwing. As always, he counted them, never being complacent that everything would go his way whenever he wanted.

“...seven, eight, nine...” he was whispering, but realizing that he couldn't finish the count to ten, he stopped abruptly and looked up to Vincent, who was eying him as he counted. “Number ten is gone”.

“Nothing we can do now, I'm afraid” the squire responded. “You'll be able to buy a new one tomorrow, there's plenty of smithies around”.

“How in the Hells did I lose one?” Gilliam wondered out loud, trying to think when was the last time he checked his weapons. He wasn't about to commit suicide for losing one knife, but at the same time he thought it troublesome that his weapons could go missing just like that.

“Maybe a thief took it” came a suggestion from the side, made by one of the four soldiers. The man's red hair could still be seen in the night, and his young face displayed a smile as he said the words. Gilliam felt something odd coming from the man, but Vincent couldn't say he agreed with the sentiment. 

“I would've known, Gon” the bodyguard retorted with annoyance and a bit of anger. The man had this suave voice that Gilliam couldn't stand.

The soldier named Gon shrugged. “Maybe it was a really good thief, then”. 

Gilliam could've _sworn_ the man's smile got even bigger, but in the darkness it was hard to tell.

“What's the matter, sir?” one of the guards asked, approaching Gilliam as he did. The man had a concerned expression, partly covered by his long blond hair that almost passed his chin. It was practically a transgression, in terms of military rules for haircuts, but the city guard wasn't that strict in such matters.

With a sigh, trying to let his anger for Gon out, Gilliam faced the other man. “Nothing important. Don't worry about it, Darius, I can fight with nine knives” he said reassuringly to the soldier “Don't call me 'sir', though; I kill people who do that”.

“As you say, Gilliam” Darius smiled and nodded, happy to hear the words, and went back to his previous spot, right by the door. 

Vincent couldn't help but feel like he could become fast friends with Darius, had the time and place been different for both of them. He observed the blond soldier for a brief moment before glancing at the priest, Lazarus, who was deep in prayer, communing with his deity, kneeling by the nearby wall.

The squire nodded to himself, and started to walk towards the four soldiers that House Kashtar had requested. Along with Gon and Darius, there were two more soldiers, both elves. It wasn't uncommon for elves to join the military, as the population of Seawall consisted of almost forty percent elves, the rest inhabited by humans and half-elves.

“How do you feel, comrades?” he asked the quartet, each of them doing something different, like sharpening their weapons or adjusting their armor straps.

Mathias looked up, as he was sitting on the ground. “Nothing at the time, squire” he replied calmly. “But then again, the anxiousness comes to me right before the clash of swords”.

His companion, Janir, was leaning against the wall, fidgeting with his belt. “Can't say I haven't been better, Vincent” was the soldier's response. “I hate having to risk my life, no matter the reason, the purpose”.

The elf's eyes met with the other one's in the dark of the night. “I can't help but feel terrified at picturing my wife deal with my death”.

Vincent nodded, understanding the man's fears. “You don't have to worry about such matters, Janir; we have Gilliam to guide us in battle” the squire turned half-way to gesture at the bodyguard, who was chatting quietly with the shaman a couple of feet away. “and we have both Kahleen, the shaman, and Lazarus, the priest of Berethor, to pull us free from Death's greedy hands” he reassured him.

Janir didn't say anything, but at least he didn't look any more troubled than before.

“Gil, when are we going inside?” Vincent asked the mercenary, a bit impatiently. “The soldiers grow uneasy with every second we spend out here in the dark”.

“Oh, that's just mister Broken Blade over here, but that's normal” Gon interrupted, signaling Darius with a hand “He's always fretting about his weapon breaking and all”

Darius didn't seem to appreciate the comment, judging by the dark look he directed at his comrade. “Shut your mouth, Gon. I'm tired of you humiliating me with everyone we meet” he said angrily. This only seemed to incite the merry soldier to go on with his act.

“Humiliating?” Gon asked, as if surprised. “I'm merely informing these new folk about your last name, and how crushingly difficult it must be for you to wield a sword without having your hand tremble-”.

“That's enough”. 

Gilliam had taken the necessary amount of steps to stand right in front of Gon, blocking his field of view of Darius. Folding his muscled arms, the mercenary looked at the troublesome soldier with narrowed eyes. “We don't need this kind of talk right before a battle, soldier”.

“Why, my apologies, _general_” Gon responded, a hint of sarcasm in his voice. “I'll be quiet from now on”.

The bodyguard grunted, ignoring the flippant comeback, annoyed by the fake apology, and moved to the spot where he was effectively the same distance to everyone.

“Attention, all of you” he bade, raising a hand to call their attention. The priest had finished his prayers and was standing up. Kahleen and Vincent faced Gilliam's direction, while the rest of the troops did likewise.

“We are going to enter the place and find a suitable position to watch the spies, then strike swiftly when their guard is down”. 

Everyone seemed to be listening intently, and so he went on. He didn't need to speak in whispers, but neither did he see if wise to talk above hushed tones.

“As simple as that sounds, the plan might not go the way we intend. The spies might fight back, with weapons and whatever they have up their sleeves, and we will get injured by the end of the night”.

“You might be here for one reason, or maybe more than one. These reasons range from your duty” he glanced at the group of soldiers “to the demands of your patron deity” Gilliam turned to look at Lazarus, who nodded in return “or maybe even your desire to help House Kashtar triumph in these troubled times” he glanced over at Kahleen, and the woman didn't make any gesture in response.

Gilliam took a breath to steady himself before going on. He didn't get hired to act as a leader, but he knew that he had to remove the fear from the soldiers, at the very least, lest they betray themselves in battle by running away.

“But whatever your causes for being here, with us, at this time, it doesn't change the fact that you have to be here, that you are forced to remain here”. 

“Save for Kahleen, you didn't choose to participate in this mission, and so it may seem to you like there is no choice left. That is where you err, fortunately for you” Gilliam spun and faced the quartet of soldiers with a determined look. “You can choose, anytime in life, no matter how limited your choices seem. For instance, you can choose how you will prepare for this battle: will you train your body as hard as you can, or will you practice maneuvers with your weapons?”

Gesturing towards the priest, Gilliam continued “Will you pray all day, or will you go out and spread the word of your religion?”. 

He went back to the soldiers, arms spread to the sides, palms open. “You see, you can make choices, even if you didn't choose the situation. In this scenario, where you need to capture these spies, you still have decisions to make” Gilliam was now looking directly at Janir “Will you fight with fear in your heart, worried for your wife's future, or will you instead hack and slash your way through your enemies, hellbent on making it back alive, so that you may see your beloved once again?”.

Janir was captivated by the man's words, that much was obvious to all, but even Darius seemed moved, even inspired by Gilliam's speech. For that matter, the rest of the group looked no less empowered by his words. They all resembled a band of heroes, ready to meet the enemy with a cry for glory, sword in hand, no matter what happened next.

“Since we have the power to choose, I say we choose to fight like this is what will turn the tides of an entire war”. Gilliam  drew one of his swords and hoisted it up in the air. “For...” he was about to say, but held himself back: in his mind, he was going to rally the group in the name of a knightly order he no longer belonged to.

Instead, he proclaimed “For House Kashtar”, as loudly as he dared. 

Everyone else, even Kahleen, saluted at this, and they all drew their weapons, ready to commence the operation.

“I didn't know you could be so... inspiring, Gil” Vincent whispered in the mercenary's ear while the soldiers opened the gates.

“Neither did I” he admitted. “Or at least, I didn't remember that I was inspiring”.

Kahleen whispered something as well as she passed by him. 

“You have chosen well, Gilliam”.

The mercenary nodded, and drew his other sword as well, walking into the warehouse with the rest.

Vincent took his spear from his back and followed suit. “I agree” he added, but in a voice so low that not even Gilliam could hear him. 

Meanwhile, a pair of glowing red eyes observed the eight people move into the building. The silent being, which no one had been able to spot in the dark street, laughed, making an effort to remain as silent as possible.

“I beg to differ”.


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## Cerulean_Wings (Jan 11, 2008)

Writing ten pages of battle is painful. Why didn't anyone tell me it could be so painful for my neck, eyes and wrists? 'Kay, enough complaining...

It's the first massive battle in the story, so I hope you enojy it! 


CHAPTER 9

*Warehouse blitz*

The place was still, like a mountain when the wind doesn't blow. Moonlight streamed through the windows of the second floor, and that was the only source of light within the warehouse. Boxes of all sizes were placed haphazardly on the floor, and thus the eight used the ones near a wall to hide in wait.

“Hey, Gil” came a whisper.

Gilliam didn't turn his head to face the squire; he was busy squinting his eyes, trying to spot  movement from the shadows. 

“What is it?” he replied in an equally low tone. 

Vincent was positioned right next to the mercenary, bending low on one knee like him. “I'm just glad you've come to terms with House Kashtar”.

The man glanced sideways for just an instant. “Likewise. Let's not talk anymore; the spies could come at any time. After this is over, we can talk all we want”.

Nodding, the elf went back to looking for movement as well.

No one was sure how much time had elapsed, but it was still dark when three humanoid shapes manifested themselves in the building, at the opposite side of where the eight were hiding. They wore dark robes that covered them almost completely, making it impossible to tell who or what they were. The figures were positioned thirty feet from the group, and was it not for the darkness of the place, they would've spotted them a long time ago.

The soldiers, priest, shaman, squire and mercenary all tensed at this appearance, and had to make an effort to keep their breathing steady. 

“When will the others arrive?” asked one of the figures to the other two in a soft voice that the hidden observers were able to pick up.   

“Soon” another one replied, shifting his footing on the spot.

If there was an ideal time to strike, it was then, when only three spies were on sight, less than half the number of people that House Kashtar had sent to capture them.

When Gilliam gave his silent signal, the four soldiers came from behind the boxes and threw their spears with all their might in the direction of the robed trio. The spies didn't seem to notice this, for they weren't even trying to dodge the weapons that were about to impale more than one.

The spears, all well aimed, passed through the spies as if they were no more than air.

Stares and comments of disbelief came from the soldiers and the rest of the eight as well.

“How in the Hells-”.

“This can't be...”.

Cursing under his breath, Gilliam realized what was happening all too well. “We've been set up on our own ambush” he said out loud. Stealth was a thing of the past, now that it was clear they had been expected.

Suddenly, the robed spies, or rather, the figments of magic that conformed them, started to shift their forms and combining into one humanoid, this one dressed in elegant robes with vibrant colors. The man had no head, but it had no problems talking to the group, however.

“So you have come out of your hiding place, you little sneaky rats of Kashtar!” the robed man without a head announced triumphantly, pointing at the direction where the group was located at. “Not precisely a thing that goes along with your ideals, but it is of no consequence: dead people are gone from this world, no matter what they did in life, good or bad, right or wrong”.

It almost sounded like he had practiced that speech before this night. No one in the group dared move a muscle as of yet. The illusory figure flamboyantly gestured behind him as he spoke. “My dear Reldo, would you please do me the favor of striking these fools down? You know how I abhor to get my hands all bloody”.

In response to this request, a small and wide figure stepped forward from the shadows.

“It would be my pleasure, Ignus!” the dwarf responded with glee, his gruff voice resounding within the warehouse. He had a short red beard, and a peculiar haircut that involved three long braids hanging on his back. Reldo was wearing heavy hides all over his muscular body, along with twin morning stars that were placed like an “x” on his back. Judging by the scars he had everywhere that his skin was visible, it was clear to everyone that he had seen quite a lot of battle, the face-to-face kind.

The dwarf adjusted his ragged-looking leather belt and bellowed “You will all pay for your plots against the other Houses, boyos! No mercy from us, no sir!”. Right after that, Reldo snapped the fingers of both hands fingers. 

Apparently, that was the signal for his followers to shoot at them, for the eight heard five 'click's go at the same time, followed by a quintet of bolts flying in their direction.

“Take cover!!!” screamed Vincent as he performed the maneuver himself, running forward and diving somewhat clumsily behind a nearby box. The rest didn't need much convincing, and they were doing the same the best they could, running ahead, to get closer to their enemies, and staying behind a box.. Except for one, who didn't need to take any evasive movements, they had all managed to avoid getting hit by the projectiles. 

Gilliam had managed to reach a box close to the one Vincent was behind. “Damnation, they have ranged weapons and we just threw ours away, literally!”. 

“We can still force a melee if we keep finding more boxes to use as shields as we go” Vincent pointed out.

The mercenary wasn't paying attention to Vincent's words, though: he was counting the rest of the group around him, to make sure they had all made it to cover. He spotted Janir and Mathias, behind the same crate; Lazarus a couple of feet away from the two; Darius right behind the priest; Kahleen was leaning against a wooden column that was big enough to offer good cover for her, bow in hand; for the life of him, he couldn't spot Gon anywhere.

“Alright, we'll move ahead as one-” he began to say, but was interrupted by a cry of pain from one of the soldiers. Janir had been shot on the leg, somehow, even though he hadn't left the crate's protection. 

“It-it went right through!” he was saying desperately as he pulled the bolt out of his limb. 

“It's true, the box isn't real, although it looks real!” Mathias agreed, passing a hand through the wooden crate, as if the object was figment of their imagination.

“Another illusion” Kahleen observed, just as other bolts came flying through, each passing through the boxes they were intending to use as protection. Thankfully, none of the projectiles from the new volley managed to land a hit on them.

Gilliam got up from behind the crate he was hiding by and started running towards their assailants. “Charge ahead, ignore the boxes or go through them!” he yelled, going through a large crate that felt like nothing but air as he passed it.

The rest seemed reluctant, but only for a split second, and all got up from their fake cover to advance as swiftly as possible.

Kahleen didn't go as far as the rest, opting to stay behind. She held her ground and took aim with her dark wood bow at one of the figures placed behind Reldo, visible thanks to her low-light vision.

“Paint the ground red, Blood Moon” she bade to her weapon. In response, the longbow's color changed from black to crimson red in a moment's notice, and Kahleen shot the arrow she had knocked. The missile flew across the floor and struck the intended target on the shoulder, forcing a grunt from the man. The shaman winced, as if in pain, although no one had attacked her yet.

Vincent was chasing after Gilliam, feeling like he needed to protect his own bodyguard, and he had just gone through another illusory box, when he noticed a metallic reflection coming from inside one of the boxes Gilliam was heading for. It didn't make any sense, of course, but intuition demanded he did something.

“Gil, watch out!”. 

The mercenary didn't know what he had to 'watch out' for until he was practically by the crate he intended to go through. A metal spike originated from the ground, placed so that he would get impaled by it, was concealed by the imaginary crate. Gilliam jumped over in the last second and felt the sharp edge rip through the fabric of his cloak, but no more.

“Avoid the crates, they're trapped!” Vincent cried out for his companion's to take heed. He was two seconds late with the warning, unfortunately, for Mathias had gone by one such box and got a hidden spear stuck on his chest. Lazarus, who was nearby, stopped by the man for just a moment, then shook his head sadly, seeing there was nothing to be done for him.

Janir couldn't believe his eyes, and he stood there, motionless, watching the corpse of his companion. He was awoken from his paralysis by three wounds that appeared on his body, as if he had been slashed three times simultaneously, leaving him very weakened, on the verge of collapse. Yet there was no one to be seen near the soldier. 

“They have invisible allies?!” Gilliam said with desperation.

“Yes” informed Kahleen. “A wizard. He must be invisible, behind the others”.

The wounded soldier was about to give up and go down when he felt a soothing sensation run through his entire body, rejuvenating his energies and sealing most of his wounds. When he looked back, Janir saw Lazarus finishing a prayer, placing his hands on him. He nodded and thanked the priest before running ahead, sword in hand.

Darius, Gilliam, Vincent and the renewed Janir dashed forward, towards Reldo and his five allies, without counting the wizard, who was still unseen. The dwarf was standing there, arms folded, watching the four advance. He snapped his fingers, and another barrage of bolts flew at them, and each warrior had to improvise a defense against the ranged assault. 

Darius aligned his shield with his opponent, and the missile got stuck on the shield instead of his chest. 

Vincent did the same, receiving two bolts on his larger shield. Rolling down, without losing momentum, Gilliam narrowly avoided one intended for him. 

The other two soldiers did a combination of the two defensive techniques, opting to roll and come up with their shields to protect their bodies. Neither were harmed by the flying bolts.

Seeing that the four warriors were fast approaching, the five shadowy assailants dropped their crossbows and drew forth slender swords with one hand. 

Kahleen had prepared another shot, and this time the man in leather armor dodged the arrow just in time. The shaman didn't say anything about this, but she looked troubled.

“Let's get the dwarf, Vince”. 

"Agreed”.

As one, squire and bodyguard each came from Reldo's side, attacking him with their respective weapons. The dwarf didn't appear preoccupied by the flanking, and he nimbly dodged the spear after the sword strikes without much trouble. He had drawn his morning stars in the process, somehow.

“Oh, boyos, you're so clever! But you'll need more than that to beat Reldo the Mighty!” he informed them. The morning stars moved in a quick blur to Vincent, but for Gilliam's trained eyes they had a pattern hidden within the incredibly fast attack. The mercenary didn't want to test his muscle against Reldo's, and rather than parrying with his blades he twirled around, getting clipped on the sides of his chest in the process, but receiving no real damage.

A word of power emerged from behind the group, followed by a feeling of wholeness and clarity that came to them. The priest had finished his prayer to Berethor, and his allies felt more able in the fight. 

Meanwhile, Darius and Janir had reached the other five. Janir slashed wildly at one, putting all his might in the strike, seeking vengeance for the death of his comrade, and the other man raised his sword just in time to prevent his head from being severed. 

Darius went for precision instead of a brutal all-or-nothing blow, and his quick jab managed to pierce through his opponent's defenses and subsequently through the leather armor. His foe clutched the area he had been hit on, his stomach, with his supposedly free hand. The eyes of Darius went wide as he spotted what he was carrying in the darkness.

“They've got nets!” he warned his companion. 

And just in time, for the five assassins surrounded them in a semi-circle, three of them throwing their nets at the soldier duo. With a horizontal slash, Darius was able to cut it before it landed on him, and much to his relief he heard Janir do the same on his own, against two simultaneous nets. The blessing of Berethor had indeed given them the strength to avoid a certain death, so far.

Both soldiers could hear the unfolding of a scroll and strange chanting coming from behind the semicircle, but they couldn't spot the source. 

The five were about to begin their assault on Janir and Darius when an arrow zoomed by and struck the one who had been shot before, this time between the eyes. The man collapsed, dead.

“Good shot, shaman!” praised Darius.

“Indeed” his companion added. Now it was two against four, instead of five.

From her position, forty feet behind them, Kahleen nodded and clasped her arm, trying to prevent blood to come out from a wound that had opened. No one had attacked her, however.

“Go high, I'll go low” Gilliam told Vincent as he bent his knees and performed a double thrust with his bastard swords. The squire reacted quickly enough to do as instructed, coming with his weapon from above, making the spear tip descend on Reldo.

The dwarf might as well have been fighting one opponent, rather than two at the same time. He jumped over Gilliam's swords and kicked the flat of the blades aside with each foot, effectively opening the mercenary's arms wide. While in mid-air, he smacked the rapidly moving spear shaft, moving it away from his body. 

When he landed, Reldo had a completely different look on his face. He looked as if he had pushed everything in his mind that wasn't related to the battle away, and only survival instincts remained. Letting out a low growl, the fierce dwarf smacked Gilliam on the chest with one weapon, faster than the mercenary had expected, causing him to lose his balance and stumble one step backwards. 

Reldo didn't waste a single instant and moved in for the kill, turning a complete circle on the spot with arms outstretched, crushing the man's upper torso with the two weapons at the same time when he completed the movement. Gilliam somehow managed to remain on his two feet after the double blow, but the harm it had done to him was clear, since he was breathing with more difficulty than before. 

“How many ribs was that, boyo?” Reldo taunted with a grim look.

Gilliam couldn't respond; he was too busy trying to figure out how in damnation he was supposed to hit the dwarf, or even dodge his attacks.

Janir got cut on the side of his face, and it would've been much worse if he hadn't side-stepped. He retaliated with a sword slash of his own, wounding his foe on the forearm, and knew that he couldn't trade hits with them, since it was two-against-one.

Darius stabbed forward, his sword going for one of his foes chest. The man blocked it with his own blade, but he didn't see the incoming foot from the side, which got him on the stomach solidly, bending him forward. The soldier of the Honor Guard deftly switched his grip on the weapon and made it descend on the man, driving it through his neck, severing his spine and ending his existence.

The dead man's companion hadn't thrown his net, and he used the chance to capture Darius. The soldier had forgotten about the second opponent, focused as he was on the killing move, and the heavy ropes embraced him, forcing him to the ground. His sword left his grasp in the process, falling away nearby.

“Darius!” Janir called, seeing his friend in peril, and the distraction cost him a stab on the shoulder, since his opponent had taken the opportunity to attack when his guard was low.

If Darius didn't get free soon, the third assailant would either kill his friend, or join the other two to overpower him. Either way, he was dead.

“Damn it”.


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## Cerulean_Wings (Jan 11, 2008)

Continuation here!


Seeing that the soldiers were in trouble, Lazarus started to run in their direction, readying a prayer of healing for them. In his hurry, the priest didn't see the gray mist forming ahead, blocking his path. The mist started to take form quickly, and while the primal roar emerging from it was a heads-up for him, Lazarus couldn't dodge the large ape that had manifested out of thin air as it charged him. The primate punched him fiercely in the face, making him loose more than one tooth, stopping him dead on his tracks.

“By Berethor, who conjured this?” he asked to no one in particular.

Lazarus wisely retreated two steps away from the beast as he summoned the healing energies of his deity. A white glow enveloped the hand he was placing on his face when he finished the prayer, and the priest felt better, but not fully healed.

The ape hammered its own chest with its fists repeatedly, roaring in anger, right before jumping onto the cleric and bringing him down to the ground in a violent heap. 

Darius was struggling to release himself from the net, but the thing had entangled his body quite well, and merely shaking around on the ground didn't offer an escape. His foe, towering over him, sword in hand, smiled and stabbed down at the prone soldier, aiming to end his life quickly. The soldier rolled to the side, net and all, avoiding an early demise.

“Priest, a little help here!” he called, desperate.

“I'm afraid that will have to wait” the cleric replied in a strained tone, struggling as he was to keep the ape's fists from crushing his neck.

Dodging a sword strike yet again, out of pure luck, Darius seized the moment to turn in Janir's direction. He saw the elven soldier with two blades running him through, one by his chest, the other one by his back, from behind. Janir glanced at the fallen Darius, his mouth open in pain, before being kicked down by one of his killers.

“Damn it, NO!” Darius screamed in rage. First Mathias, now Janir. And he was next on the waiting line for the ship sailing to the world of the dead.

Not far away, Vincent sighed. “We lost another one” he lamented.

“No time to mourn their deaths, Vince” Gilliam reminded him, dodging right below a swinging morning star, which missed him by an inch.

“Don't worry, I'll make sure someone mourns yours” Reldo offered coldly, pivoting quick like lightning and switching targets, using the momentum to swing at Vincent's leg horizontally. The squire took the hit, and his plate legging looked as effective as paper, judging by the way it was left after the impact.

Wincing in pain, Vincent moved in after the hit and completely lowered his defenses as he did, with a look of grim determination across his face. Reldo didn't hesitate, swinging his other weapon diagonally, colliding with the squire's groin with a disgusting cracking sound, as if the morning star had bent the armor and cracked a rib at the same time.

But Vincent wasn't slowing down after getting hurt twice. In fact, he accelerated his movement, gritting his teeth and bashing Reldo's face with his shield. The dwarf had no chance to avoid this, with Vincent  being right next to him, and his head swayed to the side wildly, more stunned than hurt.

Which was what the elf had been aiming for. He moved his weapon arm backwards, putting all his rage and might behind the attack, striking the dwarf like lightning, piercing his protective hides by the ribs, driving the spear head more than one inch into his chest.

Reldo groaned in pain, just when Gilliam's first sword came down on his shoulder, slashing it deeply, and taking away a big chunk of the hide that protected the dwarf's arm. His second blade did the same on his other shoulder, and the hide there departed Reldo's body as well.   

“Well done, Vincent” Gilliam congratulated, finally being able to find an opening in the dwarf's defenses. Vincent smiled back, proud of his efforts.

Their celebration was short lived, however. It took no more than a second for Reldo to recuperate, and the dwarf had a look of utter hatred that sent shivers down the spines of the two warriors. 

Letting out a yell of unrestrained fury, Reldo banged Gilliam's chest with one morning star, and the sound of bone being crushed could be heard by anyone nearby. The mercenary spat blood, just as Reldo's other weapon did as the first one, smashing the man solidly on the same spot. The sound that came from this impact was even worse, and Gilliam honestly thought that the number of bones he had broken consisted of two digits.

“Gilliam!” the mercenary thought he heard through his haze. It was hard to tell which of the four Vincent's had said it, and he was sure that one of the five Reldo's would finish him with the next blow. The whole room was spinning rapidly, he no longer had his swords on his hands, and he wished that he could face his end with more dignity.

An orange glow was surrounding him as well, just when he thought the delusions would come to an end. However, the glow felt soothing and relaxing, forcing his vision to stop swimming around and focusing it back to reality. His bones began to mend at an alarming rate, and suddenly his breathing didn't come in ragged intakes.

“Don't worry, child, I'm here” a familiar feminine voice reassured him from behind. Her next words came in the form of a gasp, the source of her pain being three identical wounds across her chest.

“Wizard” Vincent uttered.

Helios, the wizard, had been well prepared. Ignus had provided him with the scroll to summon the ape, which was about to kill the priest at the time, along with the very useful wand he had been using to hurt his foes from a distance. The great mage had even taken the trouble of giving him a concealment spell to make him invisible! It was all too perfect.

He saw the woman with the deadly bow heal the man that was about to die, somehow, and thought it best to put her down with another use of his wand, which sent three unerring missiles of invisible force at her, but unfortunately didn't kill her. It would take more than one shot, he concluded, and so he raised the slender wand once more, to finish the job.

“Now now, let's end this little game of ours, shall we?” came a suave voice from behind. The wizard had no time to ask what game the man was referring to, for he had a throwing knife stuck in his throat, preventing him from speaking and breathing.

Gon came out from the darkest area of the warehouse, his sword ready in one hand, smiling as he walked towards the choking wizard.

“That was quick, I must say” he commented cheerfully as he reached the robed man, who didn't understand how he had been seen with his invisibility. “Usually the game lasts longer! But I suppose I must content myself with this”. 

The wizard wanted to scream, but the knife prevented him from doing anything more than grunting and wheezing. Gon's longsword prevented him from staying alive any longer.

“The game is over for you” the merry man informed the corpse.

“He got Helios!” one of the two men who had killed Janir exclaimed, pointing at Gon.

“He's with them” the other confirmed, starting to run after Gon.

“And so the game goes on” Gon whispered as he took the knife he had stolen from Gilliam and readied himself with knife and sword for the two men.

“The wizard's dead?” asked the man who had been trying to kill Darius, unsuccessfully. He had cut the soldier on the arm twice, but he knew that he wasn't going to die from that. Looking over he saw the wizard's body materialize in death, now that the spell had left him.

“And so are you”.

The assassin reverted his gaze down to his prey, and understood why Darius had said those words: the soldier's sword was back in his grasp, even if his body was still trapped in the net, and he had taken a hold of his left leg with one hand.

Before the man could do anything other than scream in surprise, Darius pulled with all his might and yanked the killer off his feet, bringing him down to the ground as he stabbed with his longsword, effectively impaling him by the stomach.

Darius quickly retracted the blade and began to cut the annoying net once and for all. His attention got diverted by a shout from behind.

“Retreat!!!”.

It was Gilliam's voice, and he was looking around to see how many were left alive. Darius stood up, tossing the broken net away as he did.

Reldo would've none of it, wounded or not. Reldo the Mighty pulled each arm to the side backwards, using all his strength for one powerful double-strike. The two morning stars were to collide on the sides of Gilliam's torso in unison, but got Vincent's full plate instead, since the squire had moved to act as a shield for his friend, pushing the mercenary away.

The collision was brutal, the sound of metal against metal clanging loudly along with the squire's rib cage making a disgusting cracking sound. Vincent almost collapsed after the impact, and had to lean on Gilliam to remain standing and regain his balance.

“Vince, you fool, I'm the bodyguard, remember?” Gilliam said to Vincent as he put the elf's arm around his shoulder for support and begun running away from Reldo.

Vincent only groaned in response as he accompanied Gilliam groggily.

Kahleen was following them, chanting strange words rapidly.

“What are you up to?” Gilliam inquired hastily, glancing at the shaman.

Without offering an explanation, the woman manifested an amber colored energy on her two hands, and she aimed it at the ape, which was currently beating the priest to a bloody pulp. The energy obtained the shape of chains, and they enveloped the gorilla, forcing it to stay in the spot, unable to move.

Lazarus had been dead a couple of seconds ago, and thus the ape's restraint made no difference for him.

“Where do you think you're going, boyos?!” Reldo bellowed from behind. “This isn't over!”.

Gilliam suddenly recalled that they still had the furious dwarf behind them, and he offered Vincent to Kahleen. “Hold him for one moment” he bade her.

While the shaman became Vincent's support momentarily, Gilliam spun around, drawing and throwing two knives in one movement. The weapons went for Reldo's feet, which were currently moving towards the group, and each struck its mark, making the dwarf trip and fall face down.

“Done” the mercenary informed, giving his support to the wounded squire once again. He could spy Darius running after them from the corner of his eye, fifteen feet to the side. Two men were chasing him, and Reldo was beginning to stand up once again.

“Not yet” Kahleen corrected, chanting in a strange tongue once again.

The shaman brought her arms upwards when she was done, and this time an ice-blue aura came forth, rapidly augmenting in size. Within moments, the air around was colder, and a gray cloud had formed from the energy right in between them and their pursuers. An ice storm began to fall, then, obscuring the visibility and hampering the movement of Reldo and his remaining followers.  

Leaving a cursing dwarf behind in the storm, Gilliam, Vincent, Kahleen and Darius made it to the entrance of the warehouse and promptly left its premises. They didn't look back as they ran for their lives, each one of them hurt and tired.


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## Cerulean_Wings (Jan 12, 2008)

My body is revolting against me. I'm serious. First my wrists hurt, as always. Then my eyes. Both parts stop hurting as of late, and what happens? My neck hurts! It's a first, I must say. Apparently, too much PC use in uncomfortable positions will bring neck pain, so I need to take pills every now and then to put it down. Even then, I need to cut back on some computer use. Which means two day breaks between updates, 'cause my neck is hurting right now.

Still, I'm pretty satisfied with how things are going now: almost 20 views per updated!   

Thank you all who continue reading this story hour.


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## Cerulean_Wings (Jan 13, 2008)

I don't feel like my body is in pain all the time anymore! Jubilation! Let us achieve, and all those things. Like by, say, reading the newest chapter 

Rogue's Gallery is going to be updated shortly; we've got a couple of level ups and equipment-updating to do!


CHAPTER 10

*The aftermath*

“Alright, let's stay here, and see if we're still being pursued” Gilliam said to the rest, placing Vincent on the floor, using a wall as support for the weakened squire. The elf was semi-conscious, mumbling incoherences every now and then, and his chest was splattered with blood in different sections.

Gilliam's armor was full of holes, all thanks to Reldo, and Vincent's wasn't any better, with several plate layers missing around the torso. It was hard to believe one angry dwarf did this to the two of them.

Kahleen kneeled and pressed both hands on Vincent's chest, manifesting the tell-tale orange aura in a matter of seconds, which enveloped him and begun to close the injuries he had. The shaman didn't have much more spiritual energy left, and thus the job was far from done, but it would preserve the life of Vincent. Additionally, it made him regain full consciousness.

Meanwhile, Darius had his sword out, standing guard a few feet away from the three, ensuring that any pursuers would meet some resistance if it came to that.

“I don't hear anything” Darius informed. “Nor do I see any of the assassins coming”.

They were right next to a merchant's house, but they had opted to remain in the shadows, were the torchlight didn't give them away. The mad run from the warehouse they performed had seemed like an eternity, but the night sky wasn't clearing in the least, meaning it had probably lasted no more than half an hour.

“Doesn't mean anything, really” responded Gilliam, sitting right next to Vincent. The bodyguard had succeeded in his duty, but it had cost him greatly in the end. “Damnation, I lost my swords!” he swore, realizing he had left the twin blades back in the warehouse. After Reldo had hit him hard, he must have dropped them and forgotten all about them.

“Be thankful you didn't lose more than that, child” Kahleen wisely reminded him. The shaman was standing, bow in hand, acting as a sentry like Darius.

“Where's the rest?” came a weakened query from the groggy squire.

Darius looked over his shoulder. “Dead. Lazarus, Mathias, Janir... all dead” he informed, his voice filled with regret and sadness. 

Vincent groaned, due to pain or the grim news, no one could tell. “What about the other soldier, Gon?”.

There was a second of silence before the soldier responded “I don't know. I think I saw him slaying the wizard, and I lost sight of him after we ran away”. He didn't sound like he cared, either way.

With some difficulty, Gilliam stood up, still using the wall to help himself. “We need to capture Reldo” he stated, all of a sudden.

Everyone else glanced in his direction, a bit startled.

“We're in no condition to do that, Gilliam” Darius reminded him wearily. He was the least wounded of the four, but he was dead tired from the battle and the escape.

“He's right” was the response from Vincent, still sounding weak and battered.

“Not today” the mercenary clarified. “Tomorrow night. Reldo said something about House Kashtar plotting against the other Houses, meaning he knows quite a bit from the other side of things”

Gilliam tried to take a step forwards and almost collapsed, losing his balance after separating from the wall.

“In that case, I'll escort you to Valor's Banner, so that you may find a secure resting place” Darius offered, moving around the perimeter of the building, still checking for hidden enemies. He could've sworn he saw a red sparkle somewhere in the darkness, but he realized it was probably his weariness making him see things.

Vincent looked up from his sitting position. “You're not coming with us?”.

Darius shook his head slowly. “I'm afraid I would be more of  a burden than a blessing, going with you”.

“I disagree”.

The soldier turned around to face Gilliam, who was slowly walking towards him. The mercenary looked dead serious as he approached Darius.

“You fought well in the warehouse, Darius, and we could use another sword arm for our next battle”.

“I fought well, you say?” Darius replied with sarcasm. “Well, it wasn't good enough, for Janir and the others were slain there! They were my friends, Gilliam, and I failed them”.

It was Gilliam's turn to shake his head slowly. “I see things differently. You couldn't save them, that much is true. Don't you think you are truly failing your friends by not fulfilling what they started, by defeating Reldo, in their name?”.

Darius thought about this for a moment, in silence, and then looked back at the mercenary. “Maybe” he started, sounding angry “Maybe I could avenge their deaths, by joining you in an attempt to capture the dwarf. But what would come of off that? I almost died, in that last battle”.

Gilliam hadn't seen the soldier of the Honor Guard fight, since he had been focused in his own struggle, but he could tell that his words were accurate. “I almost died, too, and so did Vincent and Kahleen” he said to Darius. The other two were listening intently, and each nodded on their own.

“Is it fear that holds you back from another encounter with death, Darius?” Gilliam pressed.

“No” the soldier replied with some hesitation. “I just don't see how I can help you in the next encounter with Reldo”.

Gilliam shrugged, as if it was simple enough. “You survived, yes? That's proof of your value”.

Darius was shaking his head to the sides while the mercenary was saying the words. “Nay, that was luck, no more”.

“Luck is a factor in battles, but not the deciding one” Vincent called from the ground, his voice  sounding distant. “I was lucky to not have died, but my instincts were the crucial aspect that decided if I survived or not”.

The bodyguard looked at the squire, and smiled. “Vincent speaks the truth: you were lucky, but your innate skills allowed you to come this far, alive”.

Gilliam went back to facing Darius. “Don't you remember what I said, back then, before the battle?” he asked him, making a fist in front of his face with one hand. “Choices. That's what life is about. Now choose, Darius, soldier of the Honor Guard: will you avenge your dead companions, or will you merely go away and mourn them?”.

The words seemed to have an effect on the tired soldier, for he didn't reject them. Darius remained there, silent, and eventually he looked at Gilliam in the eye, a different expression on his face. In the darkness, Gilliam wasn't sure, but there was something sparkling in the man's eyes as he spoke.

“I choose to make that dwarf pay for the wrongs he caused us this night, and I will not rest until that happens”.

Gilliam nodded, happy to hear this, and approached the soldier to place a hand on his shoulder. “You have survived, Darius, and that alone signifies you have what it takes to keep going through other battles. I sense from you that if you persevere, one day you'll become a grand warrior, renowned for his deeds in battle. A knight, even”.

While Gilliam sounded dead serious, Darius didn't look like he was about to take all of that in stride, at least not for the moment.

“In any case, we can't stay here any longer. Vince, can you walk?” Gilliam asked, pulling away from Darius, and then he saw the elf already up from the ground, although he was leaning on Kahleen to keep himself standing.

“Take it easy, Vincent, one step at a time” the shaman was instructing the squire. Looking up and eying Gilliam and Darius, she asked “Go ahead of us, so that you can protect Vincent, should trouble arise”.

Both soldier and mercenary nodded, and without saying a word, they clasped each other's forearms, right before moving ahead and scouting the area for Vincent and Kahleen. 

The night was silent in this district, as people weren't allowed to cause disruptions after midnight. The other districts were there for that kind of thing. And Malakhati the Scorpion liked it quiet. 

“They survived the ambush, and now they seek to battle the one that almost killed them?” he asked no one in particular. The invisible being sighed and flew through a building, coming out from the opposite wall, and then headed towards upwards, above the city.

“Foolishness”.

---oOo---

“What do you need from House Kashtar and the Honor Guard, mercenary?” the captain of the Honor Guard inquired, a tired look on his face. It was a couple of hours after the middle of the night, after all, and the man couldn't be expected to look fresh and energetic.

Gilliam was pacing from one end of the room to the other as he talked. There wasn't much walking space in the captain's office, which was within Valor's Banner, but the mercenary used whatever was available to get his body moving, and thus energize his brain, dead tired as he was. 

The other three decided to stay in one spot, watching the mercenary do the talking. Vincent would have the reputation to request things from either his House or the guard, but he knew that Gilliam would know exactly what to demand for.

“We need a decent suit of armor for Darius, your soldier” Gilliam started, putting a finger straight to help him count the things he was requesting. “We need a new chain shirt – magical -  for me” he lifted another finger “And a pair of bastard swords, the best you've got, for me, too”.

The captain of the guard, Thomas Valen by name, merely raised an eyebrow at the frantic pacing of the mercenary. “You do realize that you'll have to pay for your own equipment, yes?”.

This caught Gilliam's attention and the man halted his pacing to face captain Thomas. 

“What”.

“The House or the Honor Guard can provide with arms and armor for their members, but not for mercenaries like yourself”.

Seeing Gilliam's expression of disbelief, the man added “Weapons are expensive, and neither House Kashtar or the city guard have spare ones, I'm afraid”.

Gilliam cursed under his breath and continued his pacing. “Fine. Where was I... ah, yes! Two bastard swords for me. Vincent needs a better spear, and some repairs on his armor” he continued, lifting a finger for each object he mentioned.

“Is that all?” captain Thomas asked, taking notes in a parchment that lay nearby.

“That will be all” Gilliam said with a nod.

“You're very efficient and quick thinking, Gilliam” came the appraisal from Kahleen, who seemed impressed.

“That's Gil for you” Vincent said to her while looking at the mercenary.

Darius couldn't help but smile. “And pretty generous, too: my armor is fine, I don't really need a new one” he added in a whisper.

“For what we're dealing with, yes, yes you do” the elven squire responded in a whisper.

The captain rose from his chair and looked at the four people standing there. “Very well. I will make sure the fellows at the armory know of this. You need the items for tomorrow night, yes?”.

Darius nodded. “Indeed. The... counter-attack we're carrying on will happen tomorrow night, at the Port district”.

“To capture the spies?”. 

“Oh, we're looking for one spy in particular, not the whole group” Gilliam clarified with a grim smile. “And he's going to be sorry he ever ambushed us”.

“I'll make sure of that” Vincent added with conviction, clenching a fist by his chest. Darius did likewise and nodded.

Kahleen was the only one that looked devoid of vengeance or anger towards Reldo and his followers. “I will ensure they return alive, captain”. 

“Please do” Thomas replied before he left the room and went outside. “I'll have to ask you to leave, since I can't afford to abandon my room with others in it”.

No one complained about this, not even Gilliam, and they left the chamber, together.

After the captain's figure was gone from sight, Darius looked at the mercenary. “What's the plan, Gilliam? How can we beat Reldo and company, just by ourselves?” he asked with his arms folded.

Gilliam smiled wickedly. “We'll use magic against him, Darius, so that he abandons his men, leaving us with him alone for some friendly banter”.

“Magic?” Darius asked sceptically with a raised eyebrow. “We don't have a wizard with us”.

“But we have shamanic magic” Kahleen informed the soldier with a wink of her one eye.

Darius didn't object; in fact, he smiled broadly at the prospect.

“Then we have all that we need”.


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## Cerulean_Wings (Jan 16, 2008)

Here we go, one more chapter done  

I can't believe I finished it in 2 hours, editing and all. Don't take that as a sign of "rushness", but rather "swift writing" 8)

Enjoy thyselves, readers 


Chapter 11

*A dwarf at the pier*

Reldo the Mighty snorted, a bit irritated by the news brought by his followers. “You're sure?” he asked the nearest man, whom like the others, was cloaked in a dark shroud, covering his face. “They wanted to meet with me by the pier?”.

The man nodded and pointed forward, in the direction of the pier itself, where several ships of different sizes and styles were docked at night. “That way, Reldo. Our informants double-checked the whole deal, and it matches the information they stole from Kashtar”. 

Shaking his head left and right, not to deny the man's claim but simply to feel his three braids bounce on his back, Reldo moved ahead a couple of paces to get a better view of the place. Since the area was barely illuminated, with a lone lantern placed on a wooden post ever twenty feet or so, beings with normal sight would be hard pressed to spot anything outside the radius of illumination. Reldo, being a dwarf, didn't have such problems, with his innate darkvision allowing him to gaze upon the port as if it was broad daylight, or at least much more brighter than what it actually was.

Some things came into shape, mainly the bodies of his other fellows, each of them hiding around behind crates, benches, and even small houses. There wasn't anyone around at the time, but one never knew when the Honor Guard would come a'calling to ruin things for people like Reldo.

“I don't see anything save for you guys” the dwarf harrumphed, arms folded across his muscular chest covered in hides. “If we're at the right time and all, then why aren't they here?”.

From the shadows, another one of the men approached, silent like a snake. “We found them”.

Reldo looked at him, not looking very pleased. “Uh-huh” the dwarf grunted, expecting more.

The man hesitated for an instant before taking a step closer to his leader and whispering “Below the pier, by the beach that lays right under it”.

“How much water we talking about?”. 

Shrugging, the sneak made a vague movement with one hand. “Enough to soak your heels, at times, but no more”.  

Pondering this, Reldo looked in the direction of the pier, where the people that had arranged the meeting were laying on wait for him. 

“How many?” he practically barked, impatient.

“Four” the man replied quickly. “The mercenary, the squire, a  blond soldier, and the witch woman”.

“Uh-huh” Reldo grunted, sounding satisfied. “Just by themselves, huh? These boyos have some idiotic ideas up their sleeves, in my opinion”.

The two men that were stationed near him chuckled, wholly agreeing with the warrior's comment.

“We going for them, or what?” one of them dared ask.

Reldo abruptly turned his head to face him, a scowl formed on his rough dwarven features. “Not 'we', fool, but 'me'” he pointed at his own chest for emphasis. “Since there's four, I can talk to them, and you fellas come to me if I whistle”.

Nodding quickly, the two men moved ahead to pass the message amongst the other spies. They disappeared as quickly as they had come into view, even to the dwarf with his darkvision. 

“Fools, all of them” Reldo complained rather loudly as he began his walk towards the end of the pier in search for a way down. He'd jump, if it came to that.

He had reached the edge of the wooden floor, which creaked every now and then rather ominously. The dwarf was confronted with the decision of simply plummeting down at least ten feet down to the beach, or finding another way to descend that didn't break his neck in the process. 

His pondering was rudely interrupted by the barking of a dog, situated a mere five feet from him to his side. Reldo slowly turned to look down at the haggard-looking street dog with a mean expression on his face. “What do you want, doggie?” he asked.

The animal's response came in the form of another defiant bark directed at him, which only annoyed Reldo even more. “Graaah!” he growled fiercely. “Away with you, you stupid mutt, before I take a bite off your legs!”. This tactic seemed to have worked, for the dog whined lamely and turned tail, heading in the opposite direction of the pier.

“Heh, stupid doggie” Reldo said with satisfaction. As if to spite him, the dog turned around when it was quite a distance away to bark at him twice before finally running away. Grumbling curses regarding the dog's mother, the burly warrior starting heading down to the beach beneath the pier, one step at a time, half-sliding, half-jumping down the sandy slope that was next to where the pier ended. 

All the spies were positioned above the pier, as planned, while Reldo took it upon himself to do the talking with the four pesky fellows. Or for that matter, breaking some bones, whichever came first or Reldo felt like doing.

---oOo---

It was dark beneath the pier's wooden floor, and what little could be seen by the beach was thanks to the moonlight. The water moved lazily, advancing and retreating on the sand in cycles, keeping the part nearest to the edge of the water constantly wet. Since the area under the pier was about fifteen feet wide, there wasn't much room for many people to stand there and not get their feet wet. In this case, it was Gilliam's boots that were soaked in seawater, but the hardened fighter didn't complain.

Gilliam was resting his hands on the hilt of his brand new bastard swords. They had been crafted out of a tough metal, adamantine, and were etched in magical runes that made the blades even sharper. His chain shirt was a completely different one altogether, since the smithy had deemed the old one too much trouble for very little gain. The new one sported not a single breach in its expensive mithral rings, the light but resistant metal allowing for more flexibility, while offering the same protection of steel or iron. 

“What if he doesn't come?” came the serene voice of  Kahleen from behind him. She was fifteen feet behind Gilliam, her dark wood bow hanging from her shoulder.

Vincent responded for him, positioned to the left of the mercenary. “He will. He'll want revenge for what we did to him and his men”.

What was done for Gilliam's armor was duplicated with Vincent's full plate, since the metal layers had been rendered useless thanks to Reldo's violent beating. The squire had gotten a new suit of armor, this one being dark blue steel, with the symbol of House Kashtar engraved on the entire chest plate, rather than a small area to the side. His spear's tip was changed to one made of adamantine, since the old one was beginning to dull after so many years of use.

“Indeed” Darius commented, leaning against the wall of sand to his left. The soldier was to the left of the other two men, but placed a couple of feet away, in between the shaman and them.

Thanks to the mercenary's insistence (and a bit of exaggeration), Darius had obtained a magically enhanced breastplate from the armory, and the gray steel had indigo lines running diagonally through it, forming intricate patterns. The rest of the equipment he had received wasn't as expensive, but the sword, spear and shield were all made with excellent craftsmanship, each bearing the symbol of the Honor Guard.

Kahleen didn't need anything else, as she was content with her bow and armor, and thus remained equipped the same. The shaman looked slightly tense, as if on edge, and the other three appeared no less stressed by the current situation. So many things could go wrong, and there was only so much they could do to prevent them. Making contingency plans for everything was sheer madness, if not outright impossible.  

With only the sound of the waves to give them company, everyone was startled when they heard a noise from up ahead,  something that resembled a boulder running down a mountain at full speed. The small seismic movement was accompanied by a “Ouch, god damned rock, son of a...” and a litany of curses that went on for almost half a minute.

“Our guest has received our invitation” Vincent observed, shifting in place, clearly nervous. His voice didn't betray his inner turmoil, however.

“Remember, I'll do the talking first” Gilliam reminded the rest, not even bothering to look at his companions for reassurance. He was tense as well, and had to flex his hands constantly to prevent them from twitching.

Although no one was looking in her direction, Kahleen nodded and assumed a ready position, although she didn't take out her bow.

Darius merely stood up straight and stretched his arm muscles. “Let's do this. For Mathias, Janir, and Lazarus” he said with conviction.

It wasn't more than five seconds after he had said those words when Reldo's figure appeared in front of them, almost fifteen feet away, right were the 'ceiling' of the pier started for him, and two wooden beams supported the planks. Two other such beams were placed behind Kahleen, complimenting the first pair.

“Well, boyos, I'm here” Reldo announced with glee. His twin morning stars were resting on his back, as always, but he didn't make a move for them, even though there were four armed people a few feet from him.

His expression changed to a frown in a blink, and so did his tone of voice. “We got your message, that you wanted information from me”. The dwarf folded his arms, assuming a challenging pose. “Here I am. What do you want, boyos?”.

“Your head on a pike” someone whispered, and everyone could be fairly certain it had to be Darius. Reldo merely snorted at this, and didn't seem to take offense.

“Who sent you to ambush us, Reldo?” Gilliam asked loud and clear. The dwarf took three steps forward, placing himself under the pier's floor, before responding.

“Someone worth following, boyo. Why? It makes a difference, his or her name?” the dwarf asked sardonically. 

The mercenary resisted rolling his eyes for the time being. “Yes, yes it does” he answered. “Was it House Grugarch, or maybe House Ganellar?”.  

Vincent's armor clanked as the squire moved on the spot, taking his foot out from a sand hole.

“Maybe” came the response from Reldo “Maybe not”. He shrugged, as if it didn't really matter.

“Are you going to tell us something, or not?” Darius burst out angrily. “We didn't arrange this meeting in the middle of the night, under the pier, to have a merry dwarf give us ambiguous and vague responses to our questions!”.

This seemed to amuse Reldo even further. “Ho ho! So the soldier of the Honor Guard thinks he can intimidate Reldo the Mighty into responding?” the dwarf laughed, taking more steps forward as he did. “Fat chance, boyo, not happening”.

Suddenly, Darius smiled. “On the contrary, I think it's very possible” he said.

Reldo raised an eyebrow. “Really, now? And how do you plan to make me tremble in panic?”.

Vincent bent down to the ground and picked up a wooden object. “With this” he proclaimed, holding it out for Reldo to see clearly.

The dwarf blinked: it was a piece of wood that had once been part of a structure of sorts, like a plank, or a crate, among other things. This one had a curved, even surface, and was two feet long.

“Y'know, even if you threaten me with a crossbow aimed at my throat, I wouldn't tell you a thing. But a piece of wood?” he chuckled, amused. “Not happening”.

“Guess where it came from” Gilliam insisted, a smile forming on his face as well. 

“It's from an object close to you” the shaman hinted with a placid smile of her own.

Reldo was intrigued, and had to think about the matter for a brief moment, his eyebrows pressed down in a frown. “Let's see here, a curved piece of wood...” he mumbled, looking around for the item it had been part of. When he did, Reldo practically froze in place and his mouth fell open in a silent scream.

The piece of wood had the exact shape of the support beams of the pier, and they were all exactly underneath of it.

“Nah, you didn't” Reldo began to say in a weak tone, his face paling in the moonlight. 

“Oh yes, with the four of them” Darius reassured him, still smiling like a madman. “Here's another chunk of a support beam” he added, throwing another curved piece at the dwarf, who merely stared at it in horror.

“You couldn't have!” he declared with a finger pointing at Darius. “If you had weakened the pillars, they would've collapsed long ago, before I came, and you certainly didn't when I was going to get here!”

Gilliam moved his arms to the sides of his chest. “You're smarter than you look, Reldo, I'll give you that much” he admitted. “But, we had a certain someone alert us of your presence, right before you came”.

Reldo looked perplexedly at Gilliam. “What” he said. “There was no one up there besides my men, me, and that bloody dog-”. The dwarf stopped his ranting when he realized who had alerted the four of his arrival.

“How did you train a bloody street dog to work for you?!” the dwarf, now angry, bellowed at them, turning his head to face each of them, looking for an answer.

“That was my doing” the shaman informed the dwarf in her serene voice. “But I didn't train the dog; I merely requested his help for the time being. His bark was the cue for us to weaken the beams”.

“You-you planned this? This whole thing?!” Reldo stuttered, flabbergasted beyond belief.

“Quite the plan, yes?” Gilliam responded with a shrug. “In any case, we really don't care for your life anymore, since you're not going to tell us what we want to know”.

“That's right: your life, Reldo, and the one of your men, they are all forfeit” Darius added triumphantly.

Vincent looked up from his position. “And they're all standing above us, I take it?” he inquired, observantly. “That's too bad, for they'll crash down to their deaths, or crippling wounds, with some luck, once we bash any one of these beams”.

Reldo seemed on the verge of desperation, like a cornered man with no escape, surrounded by crossbows and swords all pointing in his direction. Instead of screaming in terror, however, the wild dwarf gritted his teeth fiercely.

“You won't get anything out of me, boyos. The information is safe with me, and I'm willing to take it to the grave if need be” he stated in a cold, firm voice.

“BOYOS, RUN, THE PIER IS COLLAPSING!!!” the dwarf shouted at the top of his lungs, facing the wooden ceiling. It took a second for the men above to react and make a wild run away from the pier.

After the shout was done, silence embraced the beach where they were at. Reldo truly seemed ready to die for his cause.

“Thank you” Darius said to him, suddenly.

Reldo blinked twice, glancing over to the soldier, who had just thanked him.

“What for?”.

Darius put a face as if to say that it was fairly obvious. “For sending your men away. Now you don't have anyone to protect you”.

The dwarf spat on the nearby sand “We're going to be crushed by the pier, boyo, as soon as I knock over one of these beams! You should be worried about your protection!”

Not one of the four companions looked remotely troubled by this proclamation. In fact, they all appeared to be expecting such a reaction.

“The beams are fine, my dear dwarf” Kahleen reassured him. “The pieces of wood we showed you were merely planks we found laying around”.

“How in the Hells did you shape them like the beams, then?!” Reldo demanded, even more furious than before.

“Simple. With the help of the spirits, I changed the essence of the wood” she explained, undaunted.  

Even someone like Reldo seemed to comprehend this, but the dwarf reacted in the most peculiar way: he laughed. And as abruptly as it had begun, he stopped, displaying a look of deadly intent as he drew a vial from his belt and downed its contents. 

The effect of the potion was obvious within moments, for Reldo's body began to grow in size, until the dwarf towered over everyone else, reaching a height of almost nine feet. His equipment, weapons included, had increased in size as well. The four were confident seconds ago, but now this change had potentially affected the tide of the battle.

Reldo took his two morning stars out with each hand, and as he did, the light of reason faded from his eyes, leaving only survival and battle instincts within his mind.

With a primal roar of rage and defiance, Reldo the Mighty charged at the four companions, his every step thundering on the sand.


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## Cerulean_Wings (Jan 18, 2008)

Chapter 12 is here, sooner than we all expected. Heck, I really can't believe I had the energy to write it up today, but the more the merrier, I say . Turns out I *don't* have carpal tunnel syndrome, so I just need to take better care of my wrists, is all. Likewise for my neck, I just need to flex it more often, no big deal   

For those of you who read this, do let me know if you've felt there are improvements in this chapter's battle scene, since I did take steps to try to make it more... smooth. For that matter, let me know what you think about each chapter, the characters, whatever, I'm all for constructive feedback or blatant praise 


Chapter 12

*Blood in the water*

It was remarkable, how a situation could change and make a descent to hell in the span of a second, generated by a frenzied dwarf advancing on the group, morning stars swinging, jaw set, and his eyes filled with cold rage. His heavy steps splashed the water underneath and dug large holes on the sand as he moved, but Reldo the Mighty didn't pay any heed to this. All he cared for was bringing down as many of the four opponents as he could.

As he approached, several things were occurring simultaneously. Kahleen was moving her arms and chanting in a monotone voice, generating a green aura around her in the process of summoning spiritual energies. Darius was drawing his spear and taking an ideal position for a throw. Both Gilliam and Vincent were assuming battle stances, drawing their weapons as fast as they could, in order to receive the incoming dwarf (who could be considered a giant, now).

Reldo screamed wildly as he pulled one arm back to strike Gilliam with his weapon, but his attack was interrupted by his feet getting stuck to the ground. The dwarf had to abort the maneuver and look down to a mass of seaweed entangling his legs. This distracted him, and it cost him, for Vincent took the chance to dash forward and jab him hard with his adamantine spear, causing the hides he pierced to start turning red.

Gilliam saw the window of opportunity as well, and the mercenary jumped at the dwarf, who was merely ten feet away, bringing down his two swords in unison. The target in question was easy to hit, since Reldo had augmented his size with the potion, but the wound caused by the spear brought his attention back to the battle, and the dwarf was no longer with his guard down. The twin swords were parried with ease by one sweep of a morning star, and the second one collided with Gilliam in mid-air, bringing him down to the wet sand in a heap.

“Gilliam!” Darius shouted, seeing his companion down on the ground, vulnerable. The soldier threw the spear with all his might, but the dwarf somehow managed to dodge the missile in the last moment. Cursing his own aim, Darius resorted to drawing his well-crafted sword as he ran towards the three combatants.

“Paint the ground red, _Blood Moon_” Kahleen was whispering to her bow as she nocked an arrow and took careful aim of the enlarged foe. Without hesitating for a second, she released the bow string, fully aware the arrow could hit her allies as well. But luck was with her that time, and Reldo got the arrow right on his shoulder, digging deeply into his body, causing more damage with the help of the longbow's enchantment.

No one was able to witness Kahleen's blood dripping from her arms, caused by Blood Moons double-edged magic. Gilliam was on the ground, rolling to the side, nearly avoiding a brutal hit from a morning star, which made the sand in the spot where it hit blow up in the air, like a comet had fallen there. 

“Aim for Reldo, I'll cover Gilliam!” Vincent shouted at the approaching soldier, taking a step to the side to stand between the dwarf and the fallen human, shield raised and braced for the inevitable impact. The morning star collided against the steel shield from above, bending the upper section against Vincent, the metal edge bouncing off the elf's head, stunning him momentarily. 

The squire couldn't focus his mind, and he knew another spiked assault was coming his way. He saw Reldo prepare to strike him with both weapons at once, as if to sandwich him between them. Darius came forward and brought up his sword in a rapid thrust, driving it into Reldo's unprotected leg. The dwarf grunted and changed his footing to prevent the blade from going in any deeper, and his stability seemed compromise, for the attack had gone deep enough to slice a muscle or two.

But Reldo didn't seem to be going down any time soon, and these wounds only angered him even more. Gritting his teeth, Reldo ignored the pain and assaulted Darius in the blink of an eye, his morning stars moving in a blur that the soldier found impossible to predict. Only instinct saved him, as Darius jumped back in time, getting clipped on the ribs by one weapon, and receiving the other one squarely on the center of his chest. 

As Darius staggered back, severely wounded by the devastating hit, Reldo took a step forward to keep him in reach, raising an arm for the killing move. A flash to the side caught his attention, and rightly so, forcing Reldo to move his head to avoid a pair of knives from running into his throat.

“Damnation” Gilliam cursed from a standing position, having missed his shot. The mercenary bent down and retrieved his weapons rapidly, getting ready for another melee with the dwarf.

Another arrow flew by the air at Reldo, but the dwarf had seen it coming, somehow, blocking it with one of his weapons. Kahleen was moving after Darius, stopping next to the wounded man and beginning to summon healing energies for him. She had underestimated Reldo's reach, however, and the dwarf smacked her hard with one rapid swing of his spiked weapon. The shaman lost her focus and the spell was wasted, but the worst part was her injured arm, which bled profusely.

Seeing that her savior was as wounded as him, Darius took a step in front of her and assumed a defensive stance, aiming to block attacks rather than inflict further damage. This change in stance allowed him to deflect not one, but two more seize-augmented swings coming his way. Reldo growled like a fierce beast and backhanded him after the attack, hitting Darius on his sword arm and making him drop the longsword.

Gilliam went in a all-out offensive, seeing both shaman and soldier in dire straits, slashing at Reldo four times, each slash taking him no more than a second to execute. With his incredible reflexes, the dwarf parried half of them, taking the other two on the uninjured leg and the waist.

But Reldo ignored this, deciding to finish off the weakened Darius. He feinted low, forcing Darius to go back a step, and then performed the actual attack with the other morning star, smashing him hard on the head. Darius attempted to remain standing, but his balance failed him and he collapsed to the sandy ground, a line of blood running from his head.

Kahleen dropped as well, but out of her own choice, channeling amber-colored healing energies upon the dying man. Reldo was still close enough to hit her, though, and the dwarf didn't waste a second to strike her down once and for all.

His weapon fell upon Gilliam's swords, forming an “x” as they crossed by the middle, receiving the impact of the morning star and absorbing it. The mercenary grunted, as the hit had a great deal of power behind, but remained standing nonetheless.

“Wanna die first, boyo?” Reldo asked. “I can grant you that much”

Reldo performed a full attack on Gilliam, moving his arms in the same unpredictable maneuver that he had performed in the past, and the mercenary couldn't prevent the weapons from striking him three times, with a great deal of strength behind each hit. There was little blood coming out of his new wounds, but he heard the sounds of bones breaking, and he doubted he'd have anymore left if the dwarf assaulted him once again.

Vincent's spear tip ran through Reldo's already weakened leg, just then, going through he knee, and the dwarf had to drop on one knee to keep himself from outright collapsing. The elf squire retracted the spear, or at least tried to, when he found out it was stuck in the dwarf's kneecap. Reldo swung backwards blindly, and the morning star found its target sure enough, hitting Vincent on the stomach, making him bend down in agony.

Not all was lost for the four brave companions, however: Kahleen had finally healed Darius' grievous wounds, and the soldier had managed to regain his footing, if a bit unsteady at first, his face painted in red on one side. Darius was about to strike down Reldo, when he realized his sword wasn't even in his hand, nowhere to be seen in the darkness of the night.

Gilliam had brought an arm back, as if to slash at Reldo, but he chose to throw the sword at Darius instead. The other man caught it, a bit startled, looking confused.

“Why didn't you finish him off?!” he asked, seeing that the dwarf was not going to move anytime soon.

The mercenary's shoulders sagged, and only then did Darius see how weakened he was from the beating he had taken. Tossing him the bastard sword was probably the last effort he could put into the fight.

“You do it, Darius” Gilliam told him, his voice clearly expressing his exhaustion, but showing determination nonetheless “For us, for you, and for your friends” 

Darius nodded, and he took the weapon's hilt with his two hands, solidifying his grip on the sword. Taking five steps forward, Darius got close enough to take a stab at Reldo, who merely looked up at him, his eyes showing no more than bestial instincts.

“Do you have what it takes, boyo?” the injured dwarf asked “If you miss, I'll kill you”

“He bluffs, Darius” Kahleen reassured him. “Ignore his words and end his life”

Darius looked back at the wise woman, who nodded at him, and he nodded back. Raising the sword with two hands and pouring all his energy, vengeance, and rage into the strike, Darius launched himself forward, aiming for Reldo's heart.

The night went still as the dwarf's heart was perforated by Gilliam's blade, wielded by Darius, and not a sound was heard from Reldo. Darius retracted the blade from his chest, having to apply force with his foot to take it out, and stood there, breathing hard, over the body of the dead warrior.

“It's over” Darius said.

“I'm afraid not” Vincent said to him, bending down to retrieve his spear from the dwarf's knee.

Darius looked at the squire with a questioning expression “How so? We killed the leader of the spies, now everything should be fine for House Kashtar and Seawall, yes?”. He turned around to face his companions one by one, but each of them shook their heads.

“Reldo was but one of our many enemies, Darius” Gilliam explained from the ground, as the mercenary's energies had all but left him, and he was clutching his ribcage as he talked. Kahleen didn't have to ask anything, and she bent down to heal Gilliam's wounds with her shamanic magic.

“But surely after having defeated him, we will send a clear message to the remaining spies, scaring them off?” the soldier insisted, trying to obtain a more satisfying victory from Reldo's death.

“You don't win a war by succeeding in one battle, Darius” came the response from Vincent, who was removing his chest piece to take a better look at his wound. “This was but one battle, and there are more to come”.

Darius slashed at the air, as if to put emphasis into his words “Then I'll battle with any others who threaten House Kashtar, or our fair city of Seawall!”.

His words echoed into the sea, making them sound hollow. The soldier of the Honor Guard looked no less convinced, and his resolution seemed as hard as iron.

“You've got spirit, that much we can see” Gilliam was saying from his seat on the beach's sand, his bones better off after Kahleen had healed them. The mercenary faced Darius with a challenging look “But have you got what's needed to win all battles, and subsequently the war?”

The soldier's resolve seemed to falter at this “Maybe” he admitted. “But I came this far, haven't I? And I believe I can make it farther still”.

Gilliam acknowledged this with a nod “Maybe”.

The shaman was busy analyzing Vincent's stomach wound, pressing at different areas to test its soreness, drawing a grunt from the squire every now and then “Hmm, no broken bones from the lower ribs, and the organs seem fine...” she was musing to herself. Straightening up, she placed a hand on Vincent's shoulder plate “You'll be fine, but try to avoid things from coming in contact with your stomach”

“Like people punching me?” Vincent inquired.

Kahleen smiled at this “No, more like eating. For two days, at least”

One of the other two would've laughed at this, had the circumstances been less dire.

Gilliam finally managed to stand up, all by himself, and went over Reldo's corpse. Without saying a word, he began to take Reldo's equipment, which had reverted to its original size along with the body after death, and placing it on his backpack.

“Taking his possessions?” Darius asked, a bit uneasy.

“We need all the resources we can get to finance our equipment” Gilliam responded as he got Reldo's morning stars and strapped them on his back. The mercenary looked more closely and realized there were runes etched on both weapons “Huh, the dwarf had them enchanted. That's why they hurt so bad”

Vincent didn't comment on that, as he was placing his chest piece back in place, and Darius merely nodded, looking at the bastard sword he had in his hands.

“Here, your weapon” he offered to Gilliam, who took it with one hand absentmindedly while he was searching Reldo's body for more items of value.

“Why exactly do we need to 'finance' our personal items, Gilliam?” Kahleen asked, sounding interested.

“We'll need as much as we can for our next trials. I spent all my gold in this armor, and my new swords, after all” was all he said in response. No one objected, and the other three tended to their wounds while Gilliam continued his search.

After ten minutes, the mercenary presented to them his findings. Apparently, Reldo had two magically enchanted rings on him, but no one could tell what they did at the time. Kahleen suggested having an enchanter at the city analyze them in order to assess their purpose and value. Aside from that, Reldo's armor proved to be mundane, devoid of magical runes, but his leather belt had magic of its own, according to the shaman's attentive sight (one eyed and all), and they decided to give it to examination as well as the rings.

“His boots are magical, too?” Vincent asked in disbelief. “What else has he got enchanted, his beard?”

“Seems like it” Gilliam said with a shrug, after having Kahleen analyze the dwarf's footwear.

“What should we do with the corpse?” Darius asked, sounding concerned.

Vincent turned his head to look at him “Leave it as it is. We don't need proof of his death, not with Kahleen as a witness”

“Your House trusts a shaman more than it trusts you, a squire?” Gilliam felt compelled to ask, a bit of sarcasm trailing on his words.

The squire nodded, but not in a sad way “They've known her longer than they've known me” he explained, settling the matter.

The four remained where they were, then, pondering on the situation at hand, and its potential future consequences.

“It's time to go back, and inform of our battle to Master Ender” Darius called at length, drawing each one of them from their thoughts. No one objected, and the four walked away from the beach, having gathered their possessions, the sand red with the blood that was spilled in the battle.

Long after they were gone, a robed figure approached the corpse of the dwarf, looking at it with distaste and pity.

“My my, our dear Reldo the Mighty has turned into Reldo the Fallen. What a waste” Ignus said, shaking his head slowly as he gazed upon Reldo's corpse.

“But what's done is done, I suppose, and there's no gain in reminiscing over the dead. Especially dead, useless dwarves”.

With that said, the magician continued walking by the beach, his attention focused on the moon in the sky “Truly, a beautiful sight, this silvery orb that offers us a no less enchanting light, at no cost at all” he was musing in a soft voice.

The illusionist was pondering how to take the next step, and how to ensure its success.

“Those four _must_ be stopped”.


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## Cerulean_Wings (Jan 21, 2008)

So! 20 views per update, ain't that sweet? It'd be even sweeter to have additional reader comments, but hey, I'm not complaining, just sayin'  

Enjoy this chapter folks, or at least I hope you enjoy it as much as I did writing it. Comments and criticism are always welcome 

Chapter 13

*Aftermath*

Draegen Ender, Master of the Honor Guard, stared back at Gilliam, a grim look on his face. His hands were placed firmly on top of his heavy desk, acting as supports for his body, as he leaned forward.

“And so you killed the leader of the spies, Reldo the Mighty, our only viable source of information for the time being” he stated, rather than asked. “Am I missing something, mercenary?”

“It could be that, as I _explained_, he didn't feel like relinquishing any secrets he had, Master Ender” Gilliam replied wearily. He had explained the whole matter once, but he still didn't enjoy having to do so again.

Master Ender nodded gravely, and practically slumped back on his chair, letting go of his hands on the desk, where more than a dozen scrolls lay, all full of valuable words and numbers. It was all illuminated by the lanterns in the room, since the sun hadn't raised from the horizon, yet.

Vincent cleared his throat before taking a step forward and opening his mouth to speak, effectively standing right next to the mercenary “Master Ender, I'm afraid that Gilliam's words are true, from beginning to end; Reldo's sheer determination to keep his contractor's identity secret proved steadfast 'till the end of his life”.

“I'll grant him that much: he had a strong will” Darius was commenting to Kahleen, both standing a few steps behind.

“Giving praise to your enemies, soldier?” Draegen inquired with a raised eyebrow.

Darius dropped his conversation in a blink and straightened like the soldier he was, fixing his gaze on some invisible spot directly across from him “No, sir, just observing my enemy's traits, which I consider valuable”.  

“Lapdog” Gilliam thought, but didn't say. “In any case” he began anew, drawing Draegen's attention to him once more “we know it's either House Grugarch or House Ganellar that have orchestrated this”.

Master Ender's expression remained still, like an eternal tombstone “Do you, now?” he replied at length. “And how is it that you know for a _fact_ that it was either of those Houses, mercenary?”.

Gilliam tried to compose a coherent answer “Well, you see... the dwarf and his men...”, and Kahleen took a step forward to assist him, placing a hand on his shoulder to make him stop talking.

“We don't, Master Ender, that is the truth” she said calmly. “But the dwarf didn't reject the idea that it could be either House requesting his aid”.

“She speaks the truth, sir” Darius added, still hanging back from the rest of the group. 

The room went silent as Draegen placed both elbows on the desk, resting his chin on his folded hands.

“Very well” the old warrior conceded at length. “I will take note of this, but know that such evidence won't lead to any direct action against either House. We need stronger proof than that before House Kashtar or House Dagoth make a move”.

The man's arms returned to their previous position, by his lap, as he regarded the four companions “Is that understood?”.

“Yes, Master Ender”.

“Yes, sir”.

“Yes”.

“I do, Master Ender”.

“You are all dismissed, then” Draegen said. “I shall send a messenger for you when I have your next task available”. 

Without saying anything else, the four left the room. Both Darius and Vincent saluted before passing through the door.

---oOo---

Hours later, it was still dark outside, but Seawall's buildings started to become more clear as dawn approached, heralded by the false dawn, which painted the horizon in blue and green tones. Merchants were beginning to set up their shops and establishments for a new day of work, and everyone else in the city who had some responsibility would attend to it in a matter of hours. For now, though, everything held an almost mystic silence, which permeated the entire city.

Darius Brokenblade was leaning on a railing, atop a balcony on the fourth floor of Valor's Banner, watching the spectacle of the incoming dawn. His features were serene, displaying no particular emotion, and he didn't flinch when he heard the metallic door behind him open.

“Ah, here you are, Darius”.

The soldier didn't have to turn to recognize the newcomer, for he recognized Vincent's voice pretty well. He didn't reply, however, and remained in his position, gazing at the city below.

Walking slowly towards the railing, Vincent stood next to Darius, appreciating what the other man was focused on. It truly was a spectacular sight.

“You can't sleep, I take it?” Vincent inquired, glancing at the soldier.

Darius responded with a slow shake of his head.

Nodding to himself, the squire turned his attention back to the vista ahead of them “Likewise. That battle occurred very recently, and I have trouble resting immediately after one”.

Neither man said anything, and so they each kept to their own thoughts for a while. It was Darius who broke the silence, after a minute. 

“I almost died, back then, against Reldo”.

Vincent didn't know how to respond to that right away, and took his time to give an answer “I wasn't far away from that fate, either” the squire pointed out. “Has the experience shocked you?”.

It took some time for the soldier to come up with a reply of his own. Sighing deeply, he stood straight and stretched his arms upwards.

“You could say so” he admitted. Darius turned his head to face Vincent, for the first time in the conversation “But yet I'm here, alive, unlike others who were less fortunate”.

“You mean your friends” Vincent observed, looking intently at the man's pained eyes. 

Darius averted his gaze from the squire's face, and went back to observing the sleeping city.

“This fear” the squire began “does it prevent you from fighting anymore, Darius?”.

“On the contrary” the soldier replied without hesitation.

Vincent was confused about this, and placed his hands on his hips as he contemplated Darius, who still gazed forwards.

“What is it, then? What do you feel, as of now?”

Darius turned half-way to face the squire, a smile forming on his fair features, and something powerful shining within his blue eyes.

“Since our last battles, Vincent, I have found that I have this burning desire... to be alive”.

The squire smiled back, and remained silent. Both men were looking at the horizon, then, just as the sun's upper edge rose by an inch, and shone its radiance upon the two of them.

No words could've described what they experienced, as they stood on the railing by themselves, staring at the golden orb's entrance to this world, to cast away the darkness, and commence a new day.

---oOo---

Gilliam stared into the depths of the woman's brown eyes, allowing himself to be drawn into them.

“Jillian” he called her, for that was her name. The woman's long black hair was a mess, and it covered half her face.

“Gilliam” she replied, staring back into his eyes in the same way, as if this link was all that kept them in this world, together. She reached out for him, extending a hand. Gilliam took it, and brought her to close to his body, embracing her with one arm.

“I will protect you, no matter what” he whispered into her ear, inhaling a breath of her aroma in the process, feeling lightheaded just by being close to her.

“You lie, Gilliam” Jillian replied, pushing him back to arm's length. The warrior didn't know what to make of this sudden change of emotions, and looked at her perplexedly.

“My love, why can't you trust my words?” he asked her, sounding pained.

The woman returned a blank expression “Why, isn't it obvious?” she asked him, her tone sarcastic.

Gilliam looked at her, and when he glanced down, he saw it: his own bastard sword, running through her chest, all covered in her blood. He paled, and tried to pull the sword out, desperate, but try as he might, he couldn't.

“Why, Gilliam?” she implored “Why have you done this to me? I thought you loved me”.

“I-no, I didn't do this, and I do love you, Jillian!” he responded, fear clogging his thoughts, making them run wildly, rendering him unable to come up with a way to save her. He tried with both his hands, but the blade wouldn't let go of her body, and the blood kept pouring out all the while.

“You said you would protect me, Gilliam” Jillian said, accusingly. “But in the end, it's the other way around”.

“No, this can't be happening!” Gilliam cried, still attempting to pry the sword out of Jillian's body, getting his hands bloody as he did.

“You killed me, Gilliam”.

“NO!!!”.

Gilliam opened his eyes, and realized he was sitting upright on a bed, having shouted at the emptiness of  the room he was in. Then he remembered: he had received accommodations at the keep, as a reward for his late night battle. Shuddering, due to the cold sweat that coated his naked body, the mercenary hugged his own torso, and remained in that position for a long while.

“I didn't kill you, my love” he whispered, as tears fell freely down his face.

---oOo---

Time was meaningless, and space was rendered unimportant and useless. In her trance, Kahleen didn't perceive things as anyone normally might, such as the passage of time, or other bodily sensations. There wasn't any depth to where she was, any echo to her thoughts or words. She simply was, focused in her meditative state, being one with the spirits of the Nether, the plane under the control of Deriner, Lady of Essence. In a way, Kahleen was communing with the deity herself, but at the same time, she wasn't, for her link with the Nether meant a connection with Deriner's domain, but not her essence. 

In this place between the worlds, the Nether, words didn't come in the form of sound, but rather essence, spiritual energy. The essence fluctuated around the shaman, like smoke of a multitude of shifting colors, going into her own physical form, joining with her essence, and simultaneously drawing from it, taking it away. 

It was through this exchange that she was able to renew her energies to summon shamanic magic in the world, when she needed it. Through years of repetition and practice, the hermit had been able to perfect this exchange of essence, allowing her to regain her energies faster. Entering the trance was easier, as well.

At the end, when she felt whole once again, Kahleen closed the connection between the Nether and her essence, making the rainbow mists slowly depart from her vicinity. Within moments, she was back where she had started the trance, on the roof of Valor's Banner. The sun was raising, now, and her lean figure was enveloped by its rays of light.

The shaman smiled, satisfied by her trance, and glad to be back in time to witness such a scene. Seawall was being bathed in the sunlight as well, and the golden light's advance on its buildings and streets was majestic, to say the least.

 “Aah, life” she said, basking in the moment's beauty.

---oOo---

The four met in the morning, by the keep's entrance, each one of them dressed for battle, with their respective weapons and armor. It was cloudy, threatening to rain at any time, but otherwise the afternoon had been pleasant enough so far.

“Sheesh, Master Ender allowed us no more than a day of rest before this journey” Gilliam complained, scratching his head and looking around. A procession of guards were passing by, escorting a high ranking noble of House Kashtar. Not one of them paid the quartet any heed.

Vincent chuckled and slapped Gilliam on the back “Cheer up, Gil, at least we got a good night's sleep, right?”.

“Indeed! I'd say Master Ender is quite generous” Darius quipped in, sounding as optimistic as the squire, and slapping the mercenary on the back from the other side.

Gilliam groaned and shook his head “Are you two trying to form a duo, to further annoy me with your positive talk?”.

But it was all said with good intentions, and the three laughed together. Kahleen merely smiled at this.

“The items should have been identified by now” the shaman reminded them. “I say we pick them up at the arcanist's shop before we go to our briefing”.

Darius nodded and begun to walk away from Valor's Banner, with the strong wind moving his blond hair backwards, making him look dashing “Onwards, to the mage's building!” he declared, sounding heroic. Or, at least, making the endeavor sound heroic.

The other three had no reason to reject this, and so they followed suit. However, someone's voice was directed at them from the side of the stone bridge they were on, and made them stop to face the man who owned it.

It was a red haired human, with a cunning smile on his face, clad in leather armor, a longsword on his hip, accompanied by a short sword on the other one. His lean, yet muscular body was placed on top of the bridge's railing, sitting there comfortably, arms folded across his chest.

“Now now, let's finish this little game of ours, shall we?” offered Gon, leaping down from the railing to land a few feet away from the companions, arms extended, as if offering a hug.

Gilliam rolled his eyes, and Darius groaned. It had _almost_ been a perfect start.


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## Cerulean_Wings (Jan 23, 2008)

Before you read the next chapter, I'd like to make one big announcement: first, thank you all who keep reading and adding to the view count, it's what keeps me going, besides the joy of writing this stuff out 

Secondly, did this story hour get like 50 views in the last update?! I could've sworn to Pelor that the number was 590 or something, and now it's well over 600! In any case, thank you all again for your interest. To those new readers out there, come out and say hello! Don't be shy! I'd just like to know who's reading my tale, at least 

Without further comments, I give you, the next chapter. Fine, I lied, there's the thing with Gon's stat block, I'll update that when I have the chance in the Rogue's Gallery   


Chapter 14

*The Mermaid's Dream*

Gon approached the four with a smile a father had when he reunited with his dear children “Come now! Why such expressions of distaste at my reappearance?” he asked them jovially. “_Surely_ you have missed my departure?”.

Darius was about to tell him that it was the exact opposite, but Gilliam interjected “Where in the Hells were you, Gon? You disappeared after the massacre at the warehouse”.

If anything, Gon was amused at the mercenary's angry tone “Why, I was cornered against two of the remaining thugs, and had to force my escape through a tall window”.

“How come we didn't hear from you until now?” Kahleen inquired, sounding curious rather than suspicious, unlike the other men.

“I was wounded, greatly so, which didn't allow me to communicate my situation, not even to my superiors” the red-head explained calmly, with a cunning smile on his face. “I've recently informed Master Ender of my whereabouts, and he has accepted my explanation”.

Gon then pointed at the keep they had left with one finger “In there, I was given a very noble task” he stated humbly, proceeding to place a hand on his chest, where his heart was located. “I am to assist you in your dangerous mission, whatever it might be”.

His heroic claims were met with stares of resentfulness and annoyance from both mercenary and soldier. Vincent didn't look angered in the least, nor did the serene shaman. “You know that we must meet with a contact at a certain location, then?” the squire asked him.

“Of course” Gon answered happily. “I know the details, so you must not worry about my knowledge”.

Darius was looking elsewhere, so that he didn't have to face the man. “We need to stop by a mage's place, to retrieve certain items of use”.

This didn't seem to rub off of Gon in a negative way, either. “We'll make as many stops that are necessary, even if they number in the _millions_!” he announced with glee, throwing a fist up in the air. Gilliam dismissed this with a wave of his hand and begun to walk away, tired of the man's attitude.

Without a word, Kahleen followed, and Darius didn't need much encouragement to do the same. Only Vincent remained, who offered Gon an outstretched hand. “I hope we work well together” he said with a small grin.

The soldier kept smiling as he took the hand and shook it vigorously “Likewise, good squire!”.

Already walking at a faster pace, Gilliam sighed. “What's the jail time in Seawall for murdering a blabbering red-headed fool, Darius?”.

The soldier sighed as well before responding. “Not long enough to convince me to do otherwise”.

---oOo---

They had spare time to reach the contact in the Merchant district, since the appointed time of the meeting was for the late evening, and so the five went to a wizard's guild house in order to retrieve the identified items. 

Gilliam had been forced to press the arcanist who gave him the items to be less cryptic with his explanations of what the rings, boots and belt did, and eventually the man yielded and told him in plain words what their function was.

“Mages and their need for drama when it comes to magic” the mercenary fumed as he left the guild house, carrying an additional leather pouch with him on his hand. He gestured for the waiting four to follow him towards a less crowded street, and they all complied wordlessly. It took almost a minute to reach a more secure area.

“What have we got, then?” Gon asked eagerly, rubbing his hands at the sight of the four magical items within the leather satchel. Needless to say, he was the only one who was so thrilled with these objects.

Suppressing a groan of annoyance, Gilliam took out one of the rings, which was made of dark jade, and held it in his open palm. “This ring will protect whoever wears it, much like a shield defends its wielder, through its magics”.

“Maybe Reldo wasn't that good himself, if he had that to assist him” Darius reflected while looking at the ring. Vincent nodded but didn't say anything. “What about the second ring?” Kahleen inquired, curious.

Gilliam took out the other one, which was made of onyx black as the night, with a teardrop shaped ruby attached to it. It seemed more valuable as jewelery rather than as a magical object. “And this other one defends the wearer from fire”. 

No one said anything, and so Gilliam grabbed the remaining two objects, belt and boots, placing them in the center of the circle they were forming. There was nothing out of the ordinary with them, save for the runes engraved in each, barely visible unless one was very perceptive.

“Let me guess,” Gon said, “the belt can change your gender, and the boots allow you to move with stealth”. His guess was met with different degrees of stupefaction from the others, but this didn't seem to offend the merry soldier “I said I was _guessing_, didn't I?”.

“Anyway” Gilliam continued, tired of Gon's quips. “This belt gives enhanced physical might to the one wearing it” he was saying, making Vincent say “So much for the 'Mighty' Reldo”.

Lifting the boots with one hand, the mercenary told them of the last object's function. “And this pair grant you more agility to avoid attacks, and to increase your accuracy as well ” he said, glancing at Kahleen at the end. “All yours” he offered, extending the boots for her to grab. With a smile and a “Thank you”, the shaman took the boots and began to put them on, which looked rather strange, since she had been barefoot until now.

Before anyone (or more specifically, Gon) could say anything else, Gilliam delegated the belt to Darius with an offered hand. “Put it to good use, soldier” he said with exaggerated tones. Darius seemed surprised by the gift, and slowly begun to place it around his waist, securing it to his armor. “I don't feel stronger...” he was saying after he had strapped the belt on. 

“Test it on Gon” Gilliam muttered.

Gon still had a look of a little boy who couldn't wait to open his presents in his birthday. “Say, who gets the rings?”.

Gilliam thrust his hand into the satchel, grasping for the two rings, and took them out at the same time, palm open upwards, in Vincent's direction. “Here you go, Vince”.

The elf blinked, clearly not having expected this. “Ah, well, I suppose I'll keep the jade ring, to increase my defensive capabilities...” he began to say awkwardly, moving his hand over Gilliam's. The mercenary shook his head “No, you take both, Vince”.

Even more surprised, Vincent stood there mutely for a moment before finally grasping both rings and placing each on of his hands. “Why both, Gil?”. Gon looked irritated and asked the same question, drawing a sigh from the mercenary.

“Because you need them the most. My job is to keep you alive, and the better equipped you are, the easier it is to accomplish that task” he explained.

Crossing his arms in front of his chest and making a pout, Gon harrumphed loudly “And why don't _I_ get an item?”.

Gilliam scowled back at him. “Because you didn't fight Reldo with us, that's why”.  

The shaman was looking at the sky, noticing the sun's position. “I say we start walking towards the tavern, so that we make it with time to spare” the shaman suggested to the rest. Gon was about to start an argument with Gilliam, but seeing that the other three were leaving, he quickly dropped the issue and decided to sing a song instead. He kept going non-stop, switching to a new one when he finished the first one.

That afternoon, the walk to the tavern was the longest and most nerve-bending journey that Gilliam had to endure in his entire life.

---oOo---

Even in the early evening, the Mermaid's Dream was packed full of people, each doing their own thing, but mostly drinking and enjoying a good time in the popular tavern. The patron was a halfling of considerable charisma, for his words were more often than not very convincing, despite his size. He was quite the exotic sight, since his race was a rarity in this section of the continent. The barmaids, however, weren't halflings, but elven and human. Every now and then, the patron had to intervene in order to prevent fights from occurring in his establishment, and it was rare indeed to have a brawl started in the Mermaid's Dream due to his way of swaying people's intentions.

The place had two floors, the main one for drinking, parlor games, and for the minstrels to play their music to liven up the building. The other floor was reserved for sleeping quarters, for those who wanted to stay a night or two. And since the place was kept tidy and clean (or at least relatively so, for a tavern), it wasn't uncommon for the sleeping rooms to be full of guests every night of the week.

It was in one corner, by the fireplace, that six people sat on a circular table, exchanging words in normal tones, since the noise of the entire place prevented them from whispering. The group of five, all dressed as usual, were joined by a sixth in a matter of minutes after they had sat down on the table. Their guest was a half-orc, another rare sight in Seawall, but this one dressed rather elegantly, instead of looking like the typical savage his race was seen as. His indigo robes had golden thread by the edges, and a richly adorned pendant hung from his wide neck, jingling whenever he moved his head.

“Your group is quite peculiar” the half-orc was commenting, observing the five sitting around him. No one save for him had ordered a drink, and the man took a sip of a pricey wine he had paid for. “But that doesn't change my disposition towards passing House Suran's wishes along, obviously”.

Vincent leaned forward, his heavy armor squeaking a bit in the process. “What does the House of Warlocks need from House Kashtar?” he asked, looking at the half-orc in the eye. 

“More than you think, squire Vincent” the man retorted simply, grabbing his cup of wine and moving it in the air in circles, making its contents swirl. “As you should know, my name is Hertil Yovic, and my clan is one of the most influential ones of House Suran”.

“You haven't answered the question” Kahleen pointed out. She had to talk louder than usual, with all the noise around them, but her face kept calm nonetheless.

Hertil shifted his eyes in Kahleen's direction “True” he admitted, taking another sip of wine. “House Suran requires the aid of your House, squire, in order to deal with a problem of ours up north”.

Gilliam raised an eyebrow at this. “Barbarians?”.

“Your companion is very intelligent” Hertil appraised, nodding to Gilliam. The mercenary didn't seem to take the compliment well, as it sounded condescending to his ears. “Yes, Barbarians have been assaulting our settlements up north, at the Frostfell Mountains. Our... _business_ in the area requires peaceful surroundings, and such violent attacks distract House Suran from its research”.

“Would you mind being a tad more specific, good sir?” Gon prodded with that cunning smile of his. “We would appreciate knowing more than that before we agree to help your House”. Surprisingly, Darius nodded in agreement, an event that heralded the end of the world, no doubt.

The half-orc leaned back on his chair, observing his wine-filled glass with intent, seeming lost in thought for an instant. Vincent seemed annoyed by this, and placed his arms on the table, leaning forward once more “As a member of House Kashtar and clan Ender, I _demand_ to know what business  it is that we are helping, Hertil Yovic”.

This seemed to have an effect on the noble, for he resumed his original posture at once, facing Vincent squarely, with serious expression on his face. “If this will make you aid House Suran, then I shall comply to your demands, squire Vincent” he stated, sounding like he had been pressed to do say he wasn't planning on revealing unless it was as a last resort.

Gilliam appeared impressed by this, as he had never seen Vincent command such force of will to get things done so quickly. “Go on, then” the mercenary bade him.

Taking a breath, Hertil began to look around at the five, speaking as he moved his head to face each of them individually. “My House has always been focused in the arcane, everything under the domain of Fahrassi, Goddess of the Elements, and thus our main research and investigations are related solely to those subjects”.

“In the late years, House Suran has found valuable relics and objects in several caverns along the Frostfell Mountains, and thus begun to explore the area more and more, with each new discovery fueling the desire to obtain the next ancient item that lay there, hidden”.

His words were easy to follow, and as Hertil talked the five almost forgot about the background noise that was constantly around the tavern. None of them made a move or a sound as they listened the half-orc's speech intently.

“Apparently, the Wind Spear tribe, one of the most powerful groups of Barbarians in the region, took offense in our investigation of the caves, and commenced to perform raids on our settlements without warning”. Hertil paused, sipping another inch of wine from his cup. “In order to continue the research, we must have more suitable conditions in which to do so”. 

Kahleen shifted on her seat, a bit uneasy, and only Darius seemed to note this.

“I still don't see how House Kashtar is involved in this, noble Hertil” Vincent said to him, his expression serious. Next to him, Darius added “Indeed, you haven't drawn that connection, only the need for it”.

Nodding, the half-orc yielded the point. “Very true. Let us say that House Suran shall be... indebted to your House, if you help us with our issue” he explained, hands apart and open. This seemed to satisfy everyone else.

“Give us a map, and we'll give you our strength to deal with the Wind Spear Tribe” Gilliam said simply, offering a hand with the palm facing up to Hertil. The noble complied, and from his extravagant robes he took out a folded scroll, the seal of House Suran drawn on it.   

Gon took a hold of the map before Gilliam reached out for it, and opened it on his own, scanning its contents. “What in the Hells are you doing?” the mercenary demanded, flustered. But the red-headed soldier didn't reply, focused as he was on the scroll. Darius was about to press him further to respond, but just then the man stopped abruptly, handing it over to Gilliam, a wide smile on his face.

Taking it away rather forcefully, Gilliam placed the scroll on the table in front of him. “I was merely checking the veracity of the map, Gilliam” Gon explained calmly. “And from what I gather, it's quite accurate”. Hertil contemplated Gon with narrowed eyes, but didn't say anything.

Gilliam didn't know that much about forgeries, but for some reason he trusted Gon's judgement. The map in question did look like the real deal, with many carefully drawn lines going everywhere, indicating the geography of the northwest section of the continent, and a clear path between Seawall and the Frostfell Mountains.

“Anything else we should know, noble of House Suran?” Darius inquired, sounding just a bit suspicious. The half-orc shook his head in response “That's all that I have to offer, gentlemen” he responded rather ambiguously, then glancing at Kahleen, “and lady”. The shaman's eye glinted for a moment, and it wasn't clear what message she was conveying with her one-eyed look.

“I take it that you need  us to depart right away?” Vincent asked, as he began to stand up from his seat. Hertil nodded and proceeded to do the same, albeit in a more elegant fashion “You are correct, squire. Gather your resources and leave as soon as you can muster”.

With that, the half-orc left the tavern, leaving the five in their table, every one of them on their feet by then. Darius looked at Kahleen with concern “Everything alright, miss?”. The woman took a moment's respite before replying “I'll explain later. Let us go outside for now”.

The night wasn't that warm, even though it was summertime, but then again, Seawall was located by the ocean, which allowed for the winds to shape the weather. Closing the door behind them, the group abandoned the crowded establishment and walked by the main street of the district, heading to buy provisions. 

“Interesting ordeals are happening at the time with House Suran, it seems” Gon commented off-handedly, catching everyone else by surprise. “What do you mean by that?” Gilliam asked the wily man, glancing at him sideways.

“Why, it seems like they fear a spy or an assassin, isn't that obvious?” he responded casually,  gesturing back at the Mermaid's Dream as he did. “Why else would a noble of House Suran conduct such business in an undignified place like a tavern, rather than an actual upper-class house?”.

No one had an answer, not even Gilliam, who was usually very perceptive of hidden motives and deals. Darius abhorred talking to Gon, but the other soldier seemed to have been accurate in his observation. “How does that affect us, if at all?”.

Gon chuckled as he threw his arms up in the air “Heck if I know! I'm just pointing out the obvious: House Suran is being paranoid, and rightly so”.

“You think that other Houses are involved in this as well, just like with House Dagoth and House Ganellar?” Vincent inquired at length, sounding skeptical. 

Gon merely shrugged in response. “Who knows? It's all a gigantic web of intrigue, and it's quite the task to follow its links, to see where they go”.

“Or more importantly” Darius said, “knowing who the spider is”.


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## Cerulean_Wings (Jan 24, 2008)

Boo-yah!   

No, it's not another chapter, I'm afraid. It's Gon's stat block! Our beloved roguish soldier is now officially statted in the Rogue's Gallery. Go see him at the link in my signature, if you dare


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## Boss (Jan 25, 2008)

Uhm, signature?

And yes, I am still reading your story faithfully.  Personally, I think Gilliam should have created a new sheath for one of his swords using Gom when he was making noise about getting a magic item, but that's just me.

Loving it CW, definitely loving it.


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## Cerulean_Wings (Jan 25, 2008)

Boss said:
			
		

> Uhm, signature?
> 
> And yes, I am still reading your story faithfully.  Personally, I think Gilliam should have created a new sheath for one of his swords using Gom when he was making noise about getting a magic item, but that's just me.
> 
> Loving it CW, definitely loving it.




First of all, thank you for posting once again, I'm glad to have a reader give his thoughts on the story 

And yes, Gilliam _did_ have a scenario in mind as you suggest, but alas, making sheaths out of soldiers like Gon is llegal in Seawall! Maybe when they make it out of the city's boundaries...   

The link for the Rogue's Gallery is here , it should be in my signature, which appears only in the first post of each page.


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## Boss (Jan 25, 2008)

Cerulean_Wings said:
			
		

> First of all, thank you for posting once again, I'm glad to have a reader give his thoughts on the story
> 
> And yes, Gilliam _did_ have a scenario in mind as you suggest, but alas, making sheaths out of soldiers like Gon is llegal in Seawall! Maybe when they make it out of the city's boundaries...
> 
> The link for the Rogue's Gallery is here , it should be in my signature, which appears only in the first post of each page.




Yeah, that is why I put a question mark behind signature... I scrolled up to your first post on this thread and there is no sig there at the bottom, just thought you would want to know.


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## Cerulean_Wings (Jan 25, 2008)

Ah, I see what you mean now! Thanks for bringing that up Boss, I just noticed that my first post in the thread didn't include my signature, for some reason. I'll edit the link into it, then   

For those who are curious, I'm keeping an update schedule of Monday - Wednesday - Friday. Or at least 3 updates per week. I _love_ writing chapters, but I have other things to do with my life during the day   

This weekend, on the other hand, you're in for a treat: I have 48 hours of free time   
Which, unless my math fails me, means 24 new chapters! Well, that's if I relinquish my dignity, hygiene, and nutrition. So, let's say you'll get at least 2 updates this weekend


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## Cerulean_Wings (Jan 26, 2008)

Here's the next installment, the first of a couple to come in this long weekend 

Enjoy!


Chapter 15

*A long journey*

By the dawn of the next the day, everyone had gathered traveling supplies for their long trek and felt ready to face the journey ahead of them. Each traveler carried an equal amount of gear, even though some of them, like Vincent and Darius, were already burdened with their heavy armor. The squire and soldier would get more sleeping time and less guard shifts, in return. 

The day was sunny, a good augury, although the only one who counted this as such was Darius, who was pointed out to be “superstitious” by his peers. Gon used every opportunity to make jokes about the soldier's beliefs, now that had been given material with which to make fun of.

Initially, the land outside Seawall was lush and green, filled with pastures everywhere, making for a pleasant area to go by. As one moved east and north, however, the terrain started to turn into slightly barren hills, and the Gray Spears, the mountains to the north, begun to get closer in sight. The mountain range stretched far, from the very west, by the coast, to the east, where the peninsula started.

They had traveled for only two days from Seawall, when Darius finally lost his patience with the merry Gon. “Would it kill you to remain quiet, Gon?!” he yelled as his face turned red, although not from the sun shining on them from above. “We've got many days of walking, and I could use some solace, every now and then” he added in a more level tone.

“I so happen to be allergic to silence, my dear Brokenblade” Gon explained with feigned sadness. “You wouldn't want my face to go all puffy, because you dislike the sound of my voice, _would you_?”.

Before Darius could reply, Vincent spoke, seemingly oblivious to their heated exchange. “Say, Gon, how come you don't wear the usual Honor Guard armor, or even carry a spear?” he asked from behind the two soldiers.

Gon didn't mind aborting his pestering for the time being and slowed down to fall in line with the squire. “It so happens that I'm more comfortable with lighter protections, my good squire”. To demonstrate, he jumped up in the air and spun in a complete circle before landing gracefully on the ground, smoothly returning to the walking pace.

Vincent seemed impressed by this. “You've received different training than the regular soldier, then?”.

“I've received different training _before_ I joined the Honor Guard” Gon replied with a smile and a wink. The squire didn't inquire further, understanding from his words that the matter was private.

“Kahleen, have you got magic to get rid of a massive headache?” Gilliam was asking the shaman, a couple of paces ahead of the rest. “I'm afraid that my power can only affect wounds, not annoyances” she responded with a shake of his head.

The mercenary looked back every now and then, mainly at Gon, but his casual glances didn't provide with any further insight of what the roguish soldier was up to. “What about _silencing_ Gon?” he asked in a lower voice.

“I could, but I'm not going to” Kahleen replied, laughing lightly after she did. Gilliam noted this with a frown. How many times had he seen the shaman laugh, from the day he'd known her?  

“To be honest, I see more wisdom in preserving our energies for the journey, rather than to fight amongst ourselves” she suggested serenely to the man. Sighing deeply, Gilliam yielded to that point. “I agree, but...” he said, his next words trailing off. Kahleen didn't say anything, and waited for him to continue his sentence. Gilliam kicked a nearby stone, expressing his feelings at the time. “There's something _odd_ with him. I can't put my finger into what, exactly, but something about that soldier unnerves me”.

Just then, Vincent was laughing wildly at a comment Gon had made, and it was unlikely that anyone but them heard what they had said. “Tell me about it” Darius commented in a frustrated tone, hurrying his pace to place himself by Gilliam's side. The shaman didn't say anything herself, remaining silent for the time being.

“Did he always pester you, even in the quarters of the Honor Guard?” the mercenary asked Darius. Nodding, the blond soldier let out an angry breath. “Indeed. He always finds something to mock me about. Especially my last name”. 

“I don't see anything remotely funny about your last name, Darius” Gilliam reassured him in a serious tone. This didn't seem to improve the man's mood, however. Darius mumbled a curse and started to walk faster, gaining distance from the rest of the group.

“Let me talk to him” Kahleen said, before Gilliam could stop the soldier from moving ahead. The shaman quickened her pace as well, catching up with the furious Darius in little time. 

“I have a proposal” she said to him upon reaching his side. The soldier looked curious, but not overtly so. “Go ahead” he said in a tired way.

“I will tell you about my past with the Wind spear tribe, if you then tell me about yours”. This took Darius by surprise, and the man didn't know how to reply for several seconds.

“Alright, I don't mind telling you, miss” he said at length, sounding less angry than before. Almost subconsciously, he glanced back at the other three, and saw that Gilliam was looking at him intently. Apparently, the mercenary held some hope that the shaman could help him.

“You may call me Kahleen” she said, her tone still the same as it always had been. It was almost like a river, one that didn't bend or turn, always flowing smoothly in the same direction, without moving up or down in its course.

“My last name comes from a loss,” he began “when my grandfather, Argus Hial, fought in a civil war in Seawall. The whole conflict wasn't as big as I make it sound, but it took its fair amount of lives in the process”.

“Was your grandfather one of the unfortunate ones to die in the conflict?”.

Darius shook his head, bearing a grim expression. “No, he didn't die there. He was quite the seasoned fighter, changing the tides of each battle to his favor practically all the time. The only people who weren't proud of him were the ones of the opposing faction, and even some of them had to admit he was admirable in his efforts and tactics”. Nodding, Kahleen responded “I don't see any shame in this, but quite the opposite”.

“That's because I'm not done with the story” Darius said, if a bit too forcefully. “Argus fought countless times, his energies seemingly infinite, until he battled the leader of the opposing faction head to head, blade against blade. The ones who witnessed this confrontation claim that the whole war stopped just to watch the two collide”.

Seconds passed in silence, but Kahleen didn't demand a continuation of the story, nonetheless. For some reason, Darius felt compelled to finish his tale. “My grandfather's blade was sundered in two by the enemy leader. His reputation, pride, and his last name were sundered as well. Since his opponent took mercy on him, he was allowed to live, but in exchange of not participating in the clash of factions until one of them overcame the other”.

Darius took a moment to regain his breath and think ahead, in order to bring the rest of the tale together as one. “The civil war was won by my grandfather's side, but to him, it wasn't a victory he felt proud of. Days after the conflict settled down in Seawall, Argus Hial departed the city, never to seen again. His son, my father, kept the name as a reminder of the event”. He looked at Kahleen, feeling more relieved. 

“Now it's your turn”. The shaman acknowledged this with a quick nod.

“The Wind spear tribe was, and according to the noble from House Suran, still is a very barbaric group. Even when I was a child and lived there, they had slaves in the tribe, using them for menial tasks”.

“Where did these slaves come from?” Darius dared to ask, sounding troubled by the concept of slavery. Kahleen gestured at the Gray Peaks, to the north. “Anywhere they raided. They attacked other smaller tribes, for the sake of maintaining their dominance over the land, making it clear they were the strongest”. Her words came out in a flat, monotone voice, making the recounting sound even more chilling than it was. A part of Darius wanted to ask the shaman to stop telling him these things, but he didn't interrupt her.

“Our previous shaman, a very wise and ancient man, was struck dead due to an incurable illness. It was a great loss, at least for me, since he was one of the few who voiced his concerns about slavery, and pillaging other tribes and small settlements. I didn't know this, but I was to become the tribe's shaman at the age of fifteen. The shaman's spirit contacted me in a vision, and so it dawned on me that I had to take his post and continue his efforts to pacify the tribe's blood lust”.

“At what age are shamans usually chosen?” Darius inquired, curious. Kahleen shrugged. “Whenever the spirit of the previous shaman contacts them” she explained. “In my case, I was very young, but I took my role seriously and determined to make a change. Things didn't turn out how I had hoped, back then, when I was near my thirties, and my connection to the Nether was greater than it was now”. 

Kahleen paused and brushed away some of her brown hair in order to allow her one eye to see better, and cover the hideous scar she bore in place of the other one. “This... being, whatever it was, came and stole a great part of my essence, draining it away with a special dagger”.

In a very chilling way, Kahleen turned her head to face Darius with her eye. “It seemed like the dagger had to be inserted into one of my eye sockets in order to drain as much essence as possible”. The soldier paled, and his lower lip shook for a moment. “Good Gods...” he whispered, truly horrified.

The shaman's expression seemed the same as before, though, and she returned her gaze to the road ahead of them. “I didn't know who or what it was, and I still don't. In my weakened condition, I fled the tribe, fearful of the outspoken brutes taking advantage of me. Needless to say, I had made the right choice, and I stayed away, far away, in order to see things from the outside, trying to find a way to tame the wild Wind spears”.

“That's my story” she said simply. The day had been quite warm minutes ago, but to Darius it felt like winter had come early. The soldier shuddered, and tried to unsuccessfully suppress the reaction, clenching his fists at his sides.

“I-I'm sorry, Kahleen, I didn't know you had gone through something like that” he apologized weakly, but the woman didn't seem offended in the least.

“We are who we are, Darius Brokenblade, and denying that simple fact is denying our very existence. If we are to move forward with our lives, we must come to term with our past”.

She left Darius to ponder on this, and slowed down for Gilliam to catch up to her. Moments later, Darius did the same, still looking a bit shaken by Kahleen's tale. Gilliam glanced at the soldier, a bit concerned, but with a look from Kahleen he changed his mind and decided to keep silent on the matter.

“And then I said to the captain 'Listen here, sir, it's not my fault my companions decided to go naked while I was away from the room!'” Gon was telling Vincent, drawing impressed stares and laughs from the elven squire.

“Long road ahead of us” Gilliam commented absentmindedly, trying to break the awkward silence between them. The two flanking him didn't deny this, but Darius replied in a relaxed tone.

“That's life” the soldier said, rather poetically.


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## Cerulean_Wings (Jan 26, 2008)

Hoo-hah! Another update, as promised 

From my assessment of the view count, I'd say there's an average of 30 people or so reading every chapter I dish out. Wouldn't it be _nice_ if those 30 people came out and said hello? (hint hint, yes, I'm looking at _you_)

In any case, I should be able to write up the next update tomorrow, so this chapter's end will be a short cliffhanger   


Chapter 16

*Stone crusher*

It took practically a week for them to reach the Gray Spears. Traveling to the Rainbow River, with its unique fish that shone multicolored light when the sun was upon them, had taken half that time, and crossing it had been a simple matter, for Kahleen knew of the exact location of a bridge. The shaman was a great asset for the journey, since they were effectively making the return trip to her tribe in the Frostfell Mountains. 

Kahleen estimated it would take close to a month to reach the frozen lands to the north from where they were. Not surprisingly, the map they had was in accord with this and any other assessments she had made. While Gilliam admitted that he had once made a journey across the Gray Spears himself, he claimed to have little memory of the trip, and thus his knowledge was limited.

The weather in the Spears was less warm than the hills and grassland they had been through, but at the same time there was less wind, with the tall peaks guarding them from gale gusts. The initial ascent to the mountains had been treacherous, since they didn't have specialized equipment for the climb. Gilliam and Darius were expert climbers, and so they went up each ledge first, securing a rope at the top and helping the other three get up. Vincent had never received such training from House Kashtar, and his heavy armor made things even trickier for him, but he managed to climb time and again, through sheer force of will, slipping more than once, and falling flat on his back.

On the other hand, Kahleen had no such troubles, for the wizened shaman understood the land better, and her knowledge of nature made up for her lack of climbing talents. She also facilitated Vincent's climb with a shamanic spell she used every now and then, allowing the burdened elf to go up the walls like a spider. Gon had a moderately difficult time, and while his expertise didn't lay in traversing mountains, his agility complimented his efforts, and it was rare to see him slip off a mountain wall. 

They were forced to take frequent breaks in order to regain their breath and assess what the best route would be to go on. At first, the four men saw this part of the trek like a daunting and epic area to overcome, but their anxiety was dissipated once Kahleen explained that they wouldn't have to climb constantly in order to reach the other side of the Gray Spears.

“There's a natural canyon that runs east, and we should be able to reach it in a day. Once we make it there, we won't have to climb anymore, and the town of Wellspring will be found in the middle of it, where we can restore our supplies” she explained to the others while they rested within a small indentation against the mountain wall. Wherever one looked from that vantage point, there were only tall peaks surrounding the place, and it was hard to believe that a canyon was actually somewhere ahead.

Vincent seemed relieved by this, for his full plate was wearing him down, slowly but surely. The squire spent most of the time drenched in sweat, even though it wasn't very hot, for all the effort he was putting into climbing. “That's good to hear, Kahleen” he said. 

“Aah, Wellspring, quite the place!” Gon commented. “I've been there a couple of times” he said, and in response Gilliam's inquisitive stare, added “_Before_ joining the Honor Guard, that is”.

The mercenary still had a look of suspicion, but didn't press the matter. “Unless we encounter any wild beasts on the way, we should be fine. Our worst enemy, aside from monsters and animals, is the land itself” he told the others, looking over to the edge afterwards. “Falling down would mean death, or with some luck, crippling your body in a painful way”.

“It'd be a _shame_ if such an accident happened”.

Everyone turned to face the red-headed man after he said those words. He smiled and shrugged, disarming the tension. “I'm just saying! It would be a shame to lose any of us to the Gray Spears, yes?”.

Darius muttered something along the lines of “Not if it's you”, but Gon didn't seem to hear it. Shaking his head, Gilliam stood and took a closer look to the path that they were to take after the rest. It was a curved slope, which was hugging the mountain wall as it went up and to the right. It allowed for one person to go at a time, but even one climber would have to press himself hard against the wall in order to avoid falling back.

“I'm ready, we can continue” Vincent said, slowly getting up from his seat on the ground, dusting off his plate as he did. The action was unnecessary, for it would get dirty in a matter of seconds after resuming the ascent. The rest imitated him, and resumed the marching order they had decided, with Gilliam taking point, followed by Vincent, then Gon, Kahleen, and finally Darius. The best climbers were on each end of the line, so that they could assist a falling ally, if it came to that.

With their provisions withering slowly as the journey started, it became easier for the group to move through the mountain pass, but at the same time they knew that hunting for food in such a place would  prove very difficult. And if they didn't make it to Wellspring before they ran out of provisions, it would have to come to that.

They traveled for the rest of the day, practically non-stop, putting an effort into making it to the canyon, so that they would rest once they got to the less treacherous part of the Spears. Only at night did the group decide to halt their journey, for it was deadly to move through the darkness. Luck was with them, for once, and they reached the top of the canyon by the morning of the next day, without encountering any hostile beings on their way.

Vincent was crouching by the edge, gazing at the valley in-between the canyon walls. There wasn't any water to be seen, and the ground appeared to be barren and deserted. In his eyes, there wasn't any path that lead to the valley floor that didn't involve crushing his bones in the process, but he had faith in Gilliam and Darius, as the two men worked together to find hand holds for the group to use. They had spent at least five minutes in the task, and it took another five before a suitable route was found.

“Are you sure this is safe?” Gon kept asking both soldier and mercenary, drawing scowls from them. The man tested the ropes he had tied around his waist, and while they did hold tight, this didn't seem to reassure him in the least. Or maybe he wanted to annoy them, for the fun of it, but with Gon no one ever knew what his intentions were.

“Yes, it is, Gon” Gilliam replied dryly, helping Vincent attach several ropes to his bulky shape, since they came to the conclusion that taking off the armor and carrying it on his back would prove harder than wearing it while climbing down.

Once they were all safely tied together with the long rope, the five began to descend by the canyon's wall, one step at a time. Vincent went last, for if he fell, the squire would drag everyone down in a heap. Gilliam, being the lightest of the two good climbers, went first, showing Gon were the hand holds and foot holds were, and the soldier remained quiet for once, using all his concentration in the task at hand. Kahleen imitated Gon the best she could, and Darius showed Vincent the way down just like Gilliam had done with Gon.

No one fell, thankfully, and in fifteen minutes they had traveled all the way down to the valley at the bottom. Two seconds after everyone had untied their ropes a slight tremor started, and everyone bent low to preserve their balance. It wasn't too powerful, making the loose rocks on the ground shake, and it ended sooner than everyone expected.

“Imagine if that happened back when we were going down the wall” Gon pointed out, sounding relieved. The others seemed to share his feelings, and each took a breath to relax their bodies.

“At least the worst part is over with” Gilliam noted, hands on his hips, looking at the rest. The tremor returned, just then, and suddenly intensified, threatening the five to bring them to the ground with the seismic movement.

“Why did you have to say that?!” Gon shouted, struggling to keep his feet on the shaking ground. Darius had managed to remain standing, Kahleen was pressed hard against the canyon's wall, but Vincent fell backwards and remained on the ground, like a turtle flipped upside-down. 

The tremor increased its potency for an instant, just as a massive chunk of rocks exploded from the ground ahead of them, shooting rubble, dust, and small stones in every way. The seismic movement stopped just then, and when the dust cleared, there was a massive beast standing on top of the hole it had created. 

It was a quadruped, with a big sharp claw at the end of each leg. Its body was covered by a hardened and incredibly durable hide that resembled solid rock, and it had a mouth that was bigger in proportion to the ten foot long body. At the time, the beast was busy chewing down the rocks it had eaten to make his way to the surface.

“A land shark?” Darius asked no one in particular, staring at the monster with fear. He didn't know it, but the thing was actually referred as that by scholars. 

Vincent was slowly getting up from the ground, and had only now seen what lay in front of them. From the ground, the bulette looked like it was even more imposing than it was, towering Vincent by ten feet. His eyes wide, Vincent reconsidered standing up, as he didn't want to make any sudden movements. 

“It's hurt” Kahleen said, pointing towards a big section of the shark's hide that was cracked open, showing its sandy skin below covered in blood. “We should avoid it, and it will do the same”. Gilliam heard her quite well, but he kept his hands on both sword hilts nonetheless.

Behind him, Darius was trying to shake off his fear of the mighty bulette, but remained unmoving for the time being. Gon had a hand on his longsword by his hip, next to him, and the soldier looked dead serious as he observed the land shark's movements.

Hurt as it was, the bulette let out a high-pitched savage scream, and performed a leap, getting quite high in the air with very little of a running start. “Vincent!” Darius yelled out, seeing the beast's target even before it landed on the squire, who was still kneeling on the ground. With a massive _thump_, the monster fell upon Vincent, shaking the nearby ground, piercing him with its four claws simultaneously. No one understood why initially, but both squire and bulette screamed in agony at the same time.     

“He got his spear in time” Kahleen realized, seeing that the weapon's shaft was sticking out from beneath the huge hulk of the beast. The shaman unslung her bow and commanded its magic to come forth, drawing an arrow and letting go. The missile might as well had been aimed for a wall of solid stone, for it bounced off harmlessly of its hide.

Darius and Gilliam charged, their weapons ready in their hands, intent on rescuing the trapped squire. Gilliam moved faster, thanks to his chain shirt, but ten feet before he reached it, the bulette whirled around, remaining on top of Vincent's body, and opened its enormous maw, chomping down  on Gilliam as he run towards it. The mercenary hadn't underestimated the thing's reach, dodging the attack by falling into a roll, going under its head. When he came up, Gilliam thrust his sword into the beast's hide, piercing it deeply with his adamantine blade. 

Roaring in pain, the bulette reared its big head back to begin a full assault on Gilliam. This time, he couldn't avoid the thing's bite, and the pair of mandibles closed on his right arm, crunching with impossible strength, digging through skin, muscle and bone, effectively breaking the latter. Held as he was by the bulette's bite, Gilliam angled his body to avoid a slashing claw, and was forced to parry the second one with his only available blade.

Darius got there a second later, and as the monster was busy eating his ally, he was able to reach it without problems. The soldier grasped his sword with both hands, placing all his strength into the slashing uppercut he performed upon reaching the bulette. Brute force didn't seem to work, for the beast's tough hide had few weak spots, and the fine sword bounced back, nearly making Darius fall.

“Get Vincent, I'll distract it!” Gilliam shouted through gritted teeth, still feeling his destroyed right arm quite well, somehow keeping a grip on the sword it held. Through his daze, he heard a voice say “I'll stab him where it hurts, boss!”, and it had to be no other than Gon.

The wily man had kept away from the beast since the beginning, realizing that he stood no chance in a face-to-face confrontation. Only then, with the bulette distracted by Gilliam and Darius, did he dash forward, unsheathing his longsword on the way. He could've struck the land shark when he was right behind it, but the sneaky soldier had something else in mind. Gon jumped upon the bulette's back, somehow managing to keep standing on top while the beast moved, and raised his longsword high in the air, before bringing it down it right where the hide was cracked and weakened. 

With several inches of steel driving through its back, the bulette screamed in pain, letting go of Gilliam's arm in the process. It started to move backwards , and Darius took the chance to strike again, this time skewing pure power and aiming with care. The blow connected solidly, taking a chunk of the bulette's hide off, and Darius truly felt strengthened by his magical belt then. Hurt, the bulette changed tactics and jumped backwards several feet. 

Gon couldn't simply keep holding on to its back on the landing. The man rolled off its back, and fell merely ten feet away from the bulette, well within its reach. Gon yelped upon lifting his head from the ground, seeing the titanic monster opening its massive maw, readying for an attack.

“Vince, are you alright?” Gilliam asked the squire, now that the bulette's bulk had lifted from him. His plate armor had holes in four different areas, but the wounds from each weren't very grave. Darius gave Vincent a hand to get up quickly, and the squire took it with a grunt, hoisting himself upwards. "I'm fine" he said. "My ring protected me from its claws".

Just then, Kahleen had reached the three, chanting a spell, summoning an amber glow that she passed onto Vincent, at Gilliam's request. Most of his wounds closed in the blink of an eye, leaving only small scars and spots of blood.

“Thank you, Kahleen” Vincent said, getting himself ready to continue the fight. Gilliam tried to make it look like he was fine, but the shaman glanced his way. “I'll have to fix that arm when we rest, Gilliam”.

“I'm fine, we should worry about-” he began to say and stopped, realizing they had wasted precious seconds while Gon was left at the bulette's mercy. Gilliam turned to look in the bulette's direction, and saw it about to clamp its mandibles on Gon's head. “Damn it!” he swore, running at full speed after the prone soldier, broken arm or not.  But in the back of his mind, he knew he wouldn't make it, and at the same time wondered why Kahleen hadn't done anything yet with her magic or her bow.

The mercenary stopped in mid-charge upon hearing two savage growls coming from the side. From nowhere, two wild wolverines had appeared, and the pair was charging at the bulette with abandon, their muscles bulging due to the berserk state they were in. They pounced upon the land shark in unison, tearing and biting like there was no tomorrow. Their combined attacks distracted the monster, more than anything, since not only were they three times smaller, but their claws and fangs weren't sufficient to pierce through its hide most of the time.

Gon breathed in absolute relief, beginning to crawl away, too shaken to consider standing up and running, while the pair of wolverines ravaged the bulette, clinging onto its head, making the massive beast shake around wildly in an effort to dislodge them.

“That's your doing, I take it” Darius said to Kahleen as he took out his short spear and aimed carefully. He didn't want to hurt the pair of wild animals with his throw.

The shaman responded with a nod. “Indeed. I used my spiritual magic to summon them in our moment of need”. She almost made it sound simple, but to the unexperienced soldier this matter was far away from his comprehension. Next to Darius, Vincent was taking aim with his spear as well. Gilliam stood there, breathing heavily, wincing in pain every now and then, guarding the rest in case the beast charged them.

By then, the two wolverines had scratched and bitten the very wounded bulette several times, but it dislodged them from its body, proceeding to chomp down on one, then the other. With one massive crunch, each wolverine went limp, and dissolved into a greenish energy in death. Confused by this, the beast turned its attention back to its enemies. The red-haired human was nowhere to be seen, regrettably, and so it had to face the other four, beginning a mad charge in the span of a second.

Gilliam, barely twenty feet away from it, braced himself for the incoming onslaught, assuming a defensive stance with his one working arm. He felt something zoom quickly past his right ear, and then realized it had been Darius' spear, which struck true and got stuck on the bulette's hide. But the thing kept coming, new injury and all, and so Darius took a stand next to Gilliam, his sword poised to strike it when it arrived. 

It was ten feet away, flattening the earth wherever it pressed its huge claws, making the ground tremble ominously, like an incoming storm. Then there was a shout behind the soldier and mercenary, indicating to “Duck!”, which both men followed without hesitating. 

A split second later, another missile crossed the air above them, and flew towards the charging bulette. Vincent's adamantine spear got it right in the eye, and the beast missed a step, crashing down to the ground, its momentum forcing it to slide forwards towards the duo.

It got to Darius' feet and stopped, unmoving. Vincent took a step forward and grasped his spear's shaft firmly, plucking it out with a sickening sound. “That's what you get in return for attacking us” the squire said to the bulette's corpse.

Both Darius and Gilliam exhaled a breath they had been holding since the bulette had begun its final charge. Kahleen approached Gilliam and healed some of his wounds with a less effective curative magic. His arm was still broken, but the skin had been mended, at least. “Thank you” he said in return, not willing to test his arm's strength for the time being.

Darius retrieved his short spear as well, and looked around after he got it back. “Where the Hells is he?” he asked, referring to the red-haired soldier. His question got answered by Gon tapping him on the  shoulder, making him jump and yelp.

“Damn you!” he shouted infuriated to the man, who was now bending over his stomach, laughing hard, his face as red as his hair. 

“You should have _seen_ your face! Oh, my dear Broken blade, you're so easy to spook” he was saying in between spasms of laughter. For the rest, it was hard to believe Gon was back to playing pranks so short after the battle had ended. Then again, the soldier didn't have any injuries from the bulette's assault.

Gilliam didn't have a look that indicated any positive feelings towards Gon's humor. “This isn't time for jokes and laughs, soldier” he warned him with a scowl. “There could be other such beasts in the vicinity”.

This seemed to tame Gon a bit, and the soldier settled down. “Alright, point taken, boss, no more jokes for the time being...” he said, yielding to Gilliam's request, for once. Gon then proceeded to face one direction of the valley, the one leading to Wellspring, and begun to walk.

The rest didn't have anything else to do, and wearily begun to follow Gon. 

*Boom*

Not a split second after they had started walking, a rock the size of a pony crashed and exploded right in front of Gon, who was ahead of the rest by ten feet. The soldier seemed unharmed, but clearly shaken by the sudden explosion of stones in front of him.

“Over there!” Darius shouted, signaling towards one of the canyon's walls, where a large humanoid was emerging from a tunnel they hadn't seen before. This being, who initially looked like a very tall and muscular human, turned out to be something more, as it emerged fully from the dark cave and came into sight. It had a massive war axe, the head placed comfortably on his shoulder as he grabbed the handle with one hand. Hides of all sorts of animals, brown and gray, covered its tough body, and its skin shone  brown under the sun. 

He was more than sixty feet away from them, ahead and to the left of their position, but it was fairly certain that the being was close to twelve feet tall.

“Giant” Gilliam said in a voice that only the others would hear. No one moved, seeing that the crater the rock left was quite deep, and the rock had been thrown from quite a distance, a good indication of the giant's might. “We don't want to anger him” Kahleen added in a quiet tone.

The giant took a couple long strides towards them, and they could've sworn they heard a fierce growl from behind, within the cave. “Stone crusher” it said, its voice booming and powerful, echoing through the valley. 

Vincent dared to take a step forward and talk. He had no weapons in his hands, which he showed to the giant. “Are you Stone crusher?” he shouted, his voice seeming pitiful compared to the giant's. The large humanoid shook his head and pointed. No one had to turn in order to see where he was aiming: it was the bulette's corpse.

“My pet” the giant explained, his voice filled with contempt and anger, his visage now that of an angry scowl directed at the group. Vincent didn't back down, however. “It attacked us, we had no choice”.

But the giant shook his head and picked up a large rock with his free hand.

“No choice” he said flatly. With a sudden jerk of his arm, the rock he had held flew towards the five, almost hitting Vincent fully on the chest, had the squire not seen it coming and sidestepped in time. The missile passed past them and exploded behind, leaving another deep crater.

“No choice... but to _die_” the giant finished, growling out a command in his own tongue. It was responded by a terrifying growl that came from the cave, and its origin happened to be a bear two times larger than the usual specimen.

“Damnation” Gilliam cursed. The bulette had weakened them considerably, and it had been but a pet to this giant. “No choice... but to _fight_!” he corrected, looking at his companions for reassurance. Everyone nodded back, bracing their respective weapons and readying for the fight.

“I'm with you, Gilliam” Darius responded.

“I won't allow any of you to perish” Kahleen reassured them.

“We can't fail House Kashtar, not now” Vincent said with determination.

“I say we end this little game of ours, once and for all!” Gon finished with glee.

Both giant and bear started to move forwards, their ire equal, their means of destruction different, but their goal was the same: five weakened travelers. The ground trembled violently as both hulking monsters advanced, and it was soon to be coated in red with the blood of those standing upon it.


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## Cerulean_Wings (Jan 27, 2008)

And here we are, the 2nd chapter of this weekend, just like I promised 

We're nearing 1,000 views, which is freakin' awesome!   All thanks to you guys who read my story hour, no less  


Chapter 17

*Desperation*

The giant and the dire bear were at eighty feet from the group, and while the bear charged straight ahead, the giant opted to take his time in reaching them, since there really wasn't a place for the five to hide from him in the long run.

Gilliam held his awkward stance, with one arm hanging limp to the side, and the other one firmly gripping a bastard sword. He had sheathed the blade from the broken arm, since he wouldn't be using it for the time being. For all he knew, however, he'd probably end up not being able to use any part of his body if the giant scored a solid hit or two on him.

“If any of you have something particularly effective against a raging giant and its animal friend, this is a good time to let the rest know” he practically shouted, since the rumbling noise the two monsters created was almost deafening. 

Kahleen responded by conjuring a spell, generating a blue aura around her figure. “I'll stop the giant, you'll have to stall the bear” she said after finishing the chant. Out of thin air a great amount of water appeared in front of them, pouring onto the dry ground and turning it into a muddy mess. How in the Hells that was going to stop the lumbering giant, only Kahleen seemed to know.

Holding his sword in two hands, Darius shifted uneasy on the spot. “Easier said than done” he mumbled, seeing that bear was twice as large as him, and probably that many times as strong. In a matter of seconds the enormous animal would reach them, and Darius couldn't help but wish he was someplace else, far away from the canyon they were currently in.

The soldier heard something click to the side, and saw Gon firing his crossbow at the bear. The bolt was aimed with great precision, and it stuck to its brown hide, but didn't seem to be more than a small annoyance for the charging beast. Gon placed the weapon back on his belt, and drew his longsword, looking troubled.

“I'll meet the bear with my shield” Vincent shouted, taking two steps forward in order to be ahead of the group, bracing his shield and spear for the onrushing bear. Gilliam, Darius and Gon stood right behind him, ready to pounce after the initial impact.

Kahleen was summoning yet more magic five feet behind the four warriors, and this time the aura she conjured was sand colored. Still, her magic would come into effect after the bear reached them, and barely in time for when the giant made it as well.

“I hope you know what you're doing, Kahleen” Gilliam said without moving his eyes from the incoming duo. 

The dire bear, faster than the giant, reached Vincent first, and roared wildly as it swiped a large deadly claw at the squire. The resulting screeching noise from the claw ripping his shield was horrifying, but the shield had held, somehow, and the fierce attack hadn't managed to reach his armor. Still, another attack like that would probably mean the end of his shield.

Vincent held his ground after the bear was right in front of him, and taking a step forward he jabbed the adamantine spear. With his focus going into defense, the weapon didn't punch through the animal's hard hide.

Seeing that their chance to hurt it was upon them, the three other combatants leaped ahead and unleashed their combined attack against the dire beast. Darius rapidly switched from a defensive posture, attempting to drive his blade into the bear's chest. To his surprise, he was able to thrust several inches of the longsword into it, drawing a growl of pain from the animal, as well as a line of blood from the wound.

Gilliam, right next to him, executed two quick slashes, and would've performed two more, if it wasn't for his broken arm. His bastard sword cut the bear on one arm, but the second attempt was stopped short by the beast brushing it away with that same limb. 

Finally, Gon emerged from the side, the sneaky soldier jumping over a sweeping slash from the bear as he approached, stabbing it in the leg, making it growl in agony once more. The rest hadn't noticed this before, but it seemed like Gon was trained to be an opportunist, rather than a regular face-to-face combatant. He had hit the animal right where it hurt the most, by the knee, and yet more blood spilled on the barren ground.  

The giant's thundering steps were awfully close to them, just when they thought they had gained the upper hand with the dire bear. Looming over them, the large humanoid advanced to position itself right next to its pet, raising his enormous war axe for a devastating strike that no one hoped to survive.

He didn't get to make it, however, as the shaman finished her spell just in time, summoning spiritual energies right under the giant's feet, where the ground had been watered by her previous spell. This time, the wet earth transformed into a muddy mess that the giant fell into, and his long legs were swallowed by it almost to the knee. It was all he could do to avoid tripping on the muddy trap, shaking around in the process.

“Curse you!” the giant bellowed at Kahleen, trying to free himself from the unstable ground unsuccessfully. The woman held her calm visage, even in the face of such an adversary, and didn't reply. Instead, she drew Blood Moon, and began to aim for the dire bear without conjuring the longbow's magic.

The men all breathed out in relief, seeing the giant immobilized for the moment, and their guard dropped, which cost Gon dearly. Whirling to the side, the dire bear mauled the soldier brutally, ripping his leather armor into shreds, and out of pure luck did the man dodge the bear's sharp teeth. While alive, his body was oozing red from deep scars in vast amounts, and he was standing up through sheer willpower. 

“Boss,” he said weakly “I need a rest”. Gilliam didn't disagree with his assessment, but he couldn't make it happen at the time, with the bear and the giant still in front of them. “Stand back, Gon, we'll handle it!” Gilliam shouted, assaulting the dire bear once again in order to distract it from the wounded man. His rapid movements struck true twice, generating two new wounds, and most definitely drawing the beast's attention.

Darius' sword attempted to assist in distracting the bear, but his intended power attack didn't hit the target, slashing only air. Vincent used the same tactic, using brute force rather than precision, and his spear did pierce the tough hide this time. By now, the dire bear was greatly wounded, bleeding from multiple cuts and holes in its body, but this didn't slow its movements down, and rather appeared to enrage it even more.

Kahleen was about to release a carefully aimed arrow when she saw the giant stepping out of the muddied hole and getting ready to strike her down. The shaman aborted her shot, and instead shouted “Run! The giant is free once more!”, followed by starting a desperate chant to bring forth another magic spell. 

The dire bear was poised to attack Vincent, and went up in its hind legs to commence the onslaught. However, it landed back on the ground without doing a thing, looking rather perplexed, as if it couldn't see where his target was anymore. Just then, the rest noticed a greenish aura surrounding their bodies, all due to Kahleen's intervention, no doubt. 

“The beast won't detect you unless you harm it” she explained quickly. “Now is our time to-”

Her next words turned into a sudden yelp of surprise, as the giant's axe came down from above and sliced a large wound from the beginning of her left shoulder to her right leg. A terrifying amount of blood spluttered forward, and the shaman collapsed, unmoving.   

“KAHLEEN!!!” screamed three different voices at the same time, as Vincent, Darius and Gilliam saw what had happened to the hermit. In the sudden chaos, it was Vincent who brought order.

“Gilliam, get Kahleen, I'll hold the giant!” he shouted, moving as he did to place himself between the giant and the fallen shaman. “Darius, Gon, go after Gilliam, find a place to hide, I'll join you later!”

Darius wanted to object, but Gilliam grabbed him by the arm and pulled him towards Kahleen. “No time to argue, do as he says!” he commanded, bending down to hoist Kahleen's limp form over his shoulders. For all the mercenary knew, she was no longer with them, but he moved the dark thought away from his mind: they had to find a hideout, or they would all meet the same fate.

While the bear couldn't sense the companions in any way, the giant was still all too aware of their presence. It swung its large war axe in a sweeping arc, intending to chop Darius and Gilliam in one strike, and there was nothing they could do to prevent it from hitting them.

Vincent jumped in between the axe head and his allies, then, and turned his entire body into a living shield of steel, absorbing the blow squarely on the side of the chest. How in damnation did the squire remain standing was beyond Gilliam, but he didn't question his friend's vigor, and took flight with Kahleen's body, holding her with his one working arm. Darius followed suit, glancing over his shoulder to see Vincent favoring his uninjured side, the other one showing a huge dent in the armor.

Having retreated temporarily after being mauled by the bear, Gon joined the two in their escape, clutching his wounds with one arm as he ran, grimacing at every step. The rogue reached them in little time, and went at their speed.

They would get more tired soon, and with their wounds and Kahleen's body to carry, they wouldn't make it very far. If they didn't find a place to disappear from sight, the giant would catch up, and leave their mangled remains behind.

The squire didn't want to admit it, but that one blow he took made him feel like his ribcage would implode, if it hadn't done that already. He was breathing heavily, and doubted he could dodge the next attack. Looking amused, the giant decided to stay with the elf, rather than chase the rest, and lifted its weapon vertically over its head, in order to bring it downwards with great momentum.

A deity must have been watching over Vincent, right then, for he side stepped in the last possible moment, bashed the axe head to the side with his battered shield, so that instead of cleaving him in two it clipped his shoulder, bouncing him to the side. The force with which the axe collided against the solid earth was definitely inhuman, as the rocks split in two like they were butter being cut by a knife. A large scar on the ground formed mere inches from where Vincent was, allowing him to see what would've become of him had he been struck by the weapon.

The giant frowned, finding it hard to believe the elf avoided the attack. Frustrated, it commanded the bear to eat Vincent, but the animal didn't seem to be able to spot anything to eat nearby. Seizing this golden chance, Vincent turned and ran as fast as he could in his clunky plate mail, and the giant was too focused on yelling at the bear to notice right then.

Just when he thought he had left the giant for good, he heard a great furious roar right behind him, followed by heavy steps which pressed the earth down as they went. The giant was burdened by his own hides, but this didn't slow him down enough, getting closer and closer with each long stride.

Gon, Darius and Gilliam had covered a bit more than a hundred feet by then, but they heard the giant's bellow and his heavy footsteps without a problem. “Damn it, he's going to slaughter him!” Darius cursed, looking over his shoulder yet again. “We can't leave him there, Gilliam, he'll die for sure” he insisted.

But Gilliam wasn't agreeing to any of that. “Have more faith in Vincent, Darius, we gain nothing but our deaths if we go back to him” he said in between grunts of exertion. His earlier wound combined with Kahleen's body, light as it was, made it harder to run.

Darius didn't say anything, instead halting his momentum, and turned around, taking a hold of Kahleen's bow and quiver in one movement. Gilliam was almost dragged to a stop as well, and he looked at the soldier in disbelief. “What in the Hells are you doing?! Keep moving!”.

The man just nocked an arrow, took aim, and said the words of power to activate the longbow's magic.

“Paint the ground red, Blood Moon”. The bow's wood turned from dark to crimson red, and Darius felt the most strange feeling while drawing the arrow back in the string.

Shaking his head, Gilliam cursed loudly and kept running. “Darius, you brave fool” he said under his breath. Gon hadn't stopped for a moment, but somehow he had disappeared from sight in that short interval that Gilliam had looked away. Where could he have gone to?

Vincent had covered some of the distance between himself and the rest, and the giant was hot in his trail, keeping the axe's head back for an attack, once he got in reach. The giant's pursuit was temporarily halted, as an arrow shot into its shoulder, causing him a minor but painful wound. It couldn't understand how this had happened, for it was a tiny arrow that had struck him, and this hesitation allowed Vincent to get away from the giant.

The squire was surprised, since he didn't expect to see Darius holding Blood Moon in his hands. The soldier nodded to him, getting ready to shoot once again. By the time Vincent got close to him, the giant had started after him again, and Darius' next arrow got stuck in its massive hides, causing no damage. “Damn him” he cursed, starting to run side to side with Vincent, bow still in hand.

“Why did you stop running?!” Vincent asked desperate. The soldier shook his head as he moved. “I don't like leaving my companions behind” he explained. While he was still frustrated, Vincent couldn't help but smile a bit at this.

Both squire and soldier ran as fast as their armors allowed, and without warning the steps of the giant ceased. Before they could question why this happened, the answer came in the form of a flying rock as big as them, crashing on Darius' back with great momentum. One shot was enough to knock the wind out of his lungs, causing a massive injury on his shoulder blades.

If it hadn't been for Vincent taking a hold of him, Darius would've fallen face first to the ground. They kept running, Vincent hoisting the other upwards with one arm, and Darius realized he could no longer see properly.

“I can't see Gilliam or Gon” he said groggily. 

“Me neither” Vincent replied, filling Darius with dread. Gon, he could understand, but how did the mercenary disappear as well? 

Another rock came after them, and this time it crashed right by their heels, the explosion sending both men flying forwards to the ground. The landing wasn't painful compared to what they had endured so far, but Vincent's chest felt on fire since he landed on his injured side.

“Over here”.

All the pain he was enduring must have made Darius hallucinate, for he was hearing voices. Lifting his head from the hard ground, he looked around, confused and dazed. He had to blink several times, as he saw Gilliam's outstretched hand biding the two of them to join him inside a small opening in the canyon's wall.

The giant was approaching rapidly, and the ground began to shake once more. To Darius, everything was moving in slow-motion, as he and Vincent stood up, somehow, and made their way to the narrow opening, nearly breathless.

They heard another shout from the giant, and another large stone collided near them, but save for the exploding rubble they didn't get touched by it. Hearing the steps right behind them, both squire and soldier jumped with their remaining strength, and both made it within the opening just in time.

Gilliam helped them move in quickly, as the giant could still fit his arm through the entrance. Once he accomplished this, they could see and hear from the dark cave that the giant was punching the nearby wall and hacking at it with its axe, more furious than ever. Eventually, the sounds subsided, and the monster walked away, fuming. 

The space they were confined to wasn't big, but it allowed for the five to have their own resting spot. And while they were safe for the moment, there didn't seem to be any other exits.

“That was _fun_”.

The three others glanced Gon's way. He wasn't smiling.


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## Cerulean_Wings (Jan 29, 2008)

Y'know, I could write up a chapter today,  I do have the free time. What I don't have, however, is healthy wrists. I need to give these two a rest, and thus I won't be able to write a full chapter today, or at least no an average length one. 

I won't quit on writing this, don't you worry!


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## Mahtave (Jan 30, 2008)

Take your time CW, with the writing you have done so far you certainly have earned a break; albeit a short one


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## Cerulean_Wings (Jan 30, 2008)

Mahtave said:
			
		

> Take your time CW, with the writing you have done so far you certainly have earned a break; albeit a short one




Thank you for your support, Mahtave it means lots to me   

My wrists are mooch better, and if I have enough time today I'll write the next chapter. We'll see!


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## Ethelin (Jan 31, 2008)

*Keep'em coming*

Hey CW, been reading since you started this, great story, and keep writing it. It is actually very entertaining, and the characters really have backgrounds that sound realistic. They all behave in a very human way, never being superheroes, and it is great to read a story like that. Just wanted you to know that I've been reading your story hour too.


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## Cerulean_Wings (Jan 31, 2008)

Ethelin said:
			
		

> Hey CW, been reading since you started this, great story, and keep writing it. It is actually very entertaining, and the characters really have backgrounds that sound realistic. They all behave in a very human way, never being superheroes, and it is great to read a story like that. Just wanted you to know that I've been reading your story hour too.




Thank you for posting, Ethelin! I appreciate that you took the time to give your thoughts on the story. With readers like you out there, how could I even consider stopping writing?   

Have a chapter, as a reward   


Chapter 18

*A dark, safe haven*

Gilliam awoke due to pain, or more specifically, the pain in his still broken right arm. Right after stabilizing Kahleen with bandages, he had improvised with ripped pieces of cloth to make a sling for his arm, in order to keep it in one place. So far, it hadn't done much of a difference, since he had slept on hard rocks for who-knows-how-long.

Everything around him was practically shrouded in darkness, save for some strands of light that emerged from the entrance. The mercenary frowned as he glanced in the direction of where the entrance hole was, or should have been, as he could only see a large boulder obstructing their only escape means.

“The giant did that, boss” came a voice from in front of him. Gilliam turned to face Gon, who was sitting on a flat rock, leaning back against the stone wall. In the darkness, his wounds could be barely seen, with the blood shining off the tenuous light every now and then. To say that the man looked bad was an understatement. And his carefree attitude was all but gone, as well.

“Damn him, he plans to traps us here” the mercenary cursed, punching the ground with his working hand. That hurt, but not as much as the realization that they would starve to death soon, with the little supplies they had. “How's Kahleen?” he asked, looking over to where the shaman's body had been left resting.

Gon shifted uncomfortably on his seat. “She's still unconscious, boss” he explained. “Who knows when she'll regain her strength”. With that, he folded his arms across his chest, a movement that caused him to grimace in pain, and tried to relax into sleep.

Only then did Gilliam notice that there were two other voices in the cave. He got up from his earthly bed to face Vincent and Darius, who were conversing in low tones. Still, they were barely ten feet away, due to the cave's limited size, and Gilliam had no problem listening to their words.

“It's not that I'm ungrateful, Darius, but you should have kept running” Vincent was telling the other man sternly. Darius looked flustered for a moment, but returned to his serious posture in a second.

“And as I told you before, I leave _no one _ behind, Vincent” Darius reminded him with a frown. “You were as good as dead, had I decided not to stop for you”.

Vincent sighed, frustrated, and looked away. “Well, you almost got killed for doing that” he said in a lower tone, forcing Gilliam to strain his ears to hear. “And I'm honestly tired of people throwing their lives away for me”.

Darius only stared at him in silence, and kept doing that until the squire stood up, with some difficulty, and moved closer to Gon, assuming a resting position next to the sleeping man. Taking this as his cue to intervene, Gilliam got up and sat in front of Darius, taking Vincent's place. Darius had been looking away at the time, lost in thought, and didn't notice the change of speaker.

“You're funny”.

The soldier snapped his head back and looked slightly startled at hearing Gilliam's voice ahead of him. “And why is that?” he asked, serious.

Gilliam raised an eyebrow. “You're a soldier of the Honor Guard” he began. “Aren't soldiers supposed to follow orders from their superiors?”.

“It's not the same now as it was back in Seawall” Darius replied, sounding annoyed. 

“Oh, so you don't see me as a figure of authority. Is that the difference?” Gilliam asked, intrigued.

Darius shook his head slowly at this. “No, it's not that” he said with a deep sigh. “I'm not going to follow orders if they make people like Vincent die”. Gilliam just remained silent, watching Darius carefully. 

“So you would disobey Master Ender's command, if you deemed it incorrect?” the mercenary went on, at length.

The man hesitated, but for just an instant, before responding. “I would. If Master Ender wished Vincent dead, he'd have to go over my dead body to get to him” he said back with determination. Gilliam nodded, looking amused. “What's so funny?” Darius inquired.

Gilliam rubbed a hand on his face for a moment. “Nothing, it's just... I still find it funny”. He remained in his seat, glancing at Kahleen's unconscious form for a brief moment. “You acted like a knight, back then, when you stood your ground and shot at the giant, giving Vincent enough time to escape”.

Darius' expression turned into one of disbelief, dismissing the notion with a wave of his hand. “I'm no knight, Gilliam, only a soldier”. This drew a chuckle from the mercenary.

“You claim to be a soldier, yet you _acted_ like a knight. That's funny, in my view”.

“I thought knights were about following orders” Darius replied.

“As I came to realize not long ago, knights follow orders as long as they match with their code to protect others” Gilliam said.

Not knowing how to respond, Darius looked to the side, where Vincent was resting at the time. It didn't take long for him to formulate a response, however.

“Were you a knight once, Gilliam?”.

It was the mercenary's turn to remain silent, considering the question. “Yes” he replied simply, appearing serene at the time. In the dark cave, Darius could barely see his eyes, which seemed to be full of pain, but he was unsure from what.

“Why did you leave your knightly order?” Darius asked, sounding like he didn't expect an answer. Gilliam smiled, and to his surprise he gave him one.

“Because I followed orders”.

Darius left it at that, and assumed a more comfortable position (or at least relatively so, in the uneven hard ground), trying to get some sleep. Watching him for some time, Gilliam remained on his seat, his thoughts far, far away, focused on past memories.

Before he knew it, exhaustion overtook him once more, and he fell asleep.

This didn't last long, or at least no in Gilliam's perceptions. Someone was sticking something pointy against his right arm, saying some words, which sounded incoherent at first when he was coming back to consciousness. 

“Wake up, sleepy head, wake up!” the voice was saying, sounding rather cheery and excited. It _had_ to be Gon. Then again, wasn't he severely wounded? Gilliam opened his eyes and saw the red-haired soldier smile at him from above, while jabbing what looked like a long wooden stick into his broken arm.

“Would you stop that?” he implored tiredly, and then he felt a sudden boost of energy coursing up from within. Gilliam straightened his back and looked at Gon curiously, then at his arm. “Huh. It doesn't hurt anymore” he observed, testing its movement warily, seeing that the bone appeared to be mended.

“It's a wand of curative magic” a serene, familiar voice commented from the side. Gilliam didn't have to turn his head to know it was Kahleen. “Glad to see you're alive and...” he was saying as he got up, but made a pause when he saw her standing up “... fully healed from your mortal wound?” he finished questioningly, finding it hard to believe his eyes.

The shaman gestured at Gon. “He found that on the corpse of a humanoid in the back of the cave” she explained. “Thankfully, it was designed to heal wounds, which helped in recuperating from my weakened state, along with your broken arm”. Meanwhile, Gon was moving around the limited space of the cave, using the wand as if it was a toy of sorts, swooshing it in the air in all directions.

“Quite the potent healing, even more powerful than the one I wield” she added, looking at Gon as she did. The mercenary raised an eyebrow at this. “How in the Hells did he get to use it?” he asked, sounding incredulous. Kahleen merely shrugged, and said nothing else. 

“We don't know, either, but it did restore our injuries as well” Vincent said from his seat. Next to him, Darius nodded, and only then did Gilliam notice that the five of them were devoid of any evidence of a deadly combat with a giant, save for their respective scars. Kahleen would keep the wide diagonal one on her chest for a long time, and Vincent's side would look scarred as well. 

As happy as he was to see all of this, Gilliam's mood turned somber quickly. “We still have the matter of the boulder, blocking our only exit”. This seemed to do the same for the rest, and they all exchanged looks. Even Gon stopped his tomfoolery to glance at the blocked exit with disdain.

All save for Kahleen, who was smiling a little bit. Darius looked at her, frowning. “What do you _know_, Kahleen?”.

The shaman's outline shimmered in an orange energy without warning, and her outline began to change. Within seconds, she had turned from a humanoid shape into a small, furry quadruped. 

Everyone stared at the creature that stood in Kahleen's place, stunned.

“I didn't know she could turn herself into a badger” Darius said, sounding like he was about to faint.


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## Cerulean_Wings (Jan 31, 2008)

Since my update rate _might_ go down a bit, I figured I might as well explain the matter to you, dear readers. I will be moving to a new home for two weeks, as part of a volunteer program I'm currently in. The host family in question has internet, but I'm not sure how available it is. If it's stable and whatnot, then I'll be able to update every two days or so.
If not, then it'll be whenever I get the chance after writing the chapter.

That's all


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## BLACKDIRGE (Jan 31, 2008)

Hey CW, looks like your story hour is starting to attracts some committed readers. See, I told you it would happen.   

I must say I'm impressed with your output. You have 18 chapters in just over a month; that's a lot of writing! Just as a comparison, in my original Dretch to Demon Lord story hour, it took my *18 months* to get to chapter 18.   Although, in my defense, I did write the second two novels in about 4 months; roughly 125,000 words and 36 chapters. Being on a tight deadline can really motivate you to produce!   

Good work! Keep it up.

BD


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## Cerulean_Wings (Jan 31, 2008)

BLACK DIRGE, I appreciate your supportive words, it's good to have folks like you come by and say "keep on keepin' on!"   

And to be honest, I wish I could write more than that amount of chapters per month. Thing is, my wrists and neck rebel on me every now and then, and thus I need to give myself a rest before the next chapter. I mean, it's a lot of writing, sure, but I just want to keep going 'till eternity   

Recommendations to avoid neck/wrist pain from so much story hour writing, anyone?  :\


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## Megapurrr (Feb 1, 2008)

I've been reading since you started, and im loving it, CW. Just wanted to let you know... 

MP


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## Cerulean_Wings (Feb 1, 2008)

Jubilation! Another reader has come from the shadows to comment on the story! Thank you for posting, Megapurr, I highly value you taking the time to post 

And the thread has gone over 1,000 views! Double jubilation! Thank you, readers, I couldn't have done it without ya   

Let's start building our way up to 2,000, now


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## Cerulean_Wings (Feb 2, 2008)

Wahoo! I got the internetz! *ahem* Alright, it's dial up, but it's better than nothing   

Here's the next chapter! I hope the cliffhanger keeps you anxious for more story hour goodness!   

Chapter 19

*Escape *

“I don’t like this plan, Gil” Vincent was telling the mercenary as they crawled through the narrow tunnel that Kahleen had dug for them. It had taken the shape shifting woman the better part of an hour to dig the tunnel twice, so that the four others could actually move into it. In her badger shape, she had made her way parallel to the canyon’s wall, and after a while turned it to the right, so as to make an exit hole to the valley.

Right ahead of Vincent was Gilliam, and the mercenary was covered in dirt from top to bottom, and had had his fair share of smacking his head on the low ceiling of the tunnel. “It’s the only one we have, I’m afraid” he replied as he moved, one step at a time.

“I don’t like it either, boss” said Gon’s voice from behind the squire. “I think that there’s this chance that Mr. Giant will see us, and consequently murder us”. Regardless of the distance between each other, it wasn’t hard making out the words, for the sounds echoed in the tunnel. 

“It’s either that or starving to death in the cave, Gon” Darius replied dryly from behind the wily soldier. “Do you want to go back to the cave?”

Gon chuckled at this. “Not at all, my dear Broken blade, not at all! I suppose we can use your body as an efficient shield, if it comes to battling the giant once more”.

“And you know what I think?” Darius asked, sounding annoyed. “I think we should use you as a decoy. It wouldn’t hurt to lose you in the process, if you ask me”.

“Have you forgotten who healed everyone’s wounds, including your own, Broken blade?” Gon easily retorted. Darius had no comeback for that, and remained silent, scowling at the bent shape ahead of him.

“When will those two ever stop?” Gilliam wondered in a low voice, finding it hard to concentrate in moving through the tight space as he listened to their antics. Kahleen’s badger-body was ahead, waiting for him, and resuming her movement once the mercenary got close enough. How he envied having her ability to adapt to different circumstances!

They had been crawling for what seemed like an eternity, with only more rocks and stones ahead of them as they moved inch by inch. But eventually the passage bent to the right, and everyone prepared for the inevitability of emerging into the valley and potentially confronting the giant a second time.

“Remember, we do _not_ engage the giant if it comes to that. We’ll make a run to another hideout, if need be, or to Wellspring itself, should we be close enough” Gilliam said to everyone right before the bent. 

Kahleen had shifted back to her usual self, and was ahead of him. “I don’t have much spiritual energy left for more than three spells, but Gon can manipulate the wand to heal you, should you be injured in the escape”.

No one felt like pointing out that to be struck by the giant would mean an almost certain death blow, and thus the prospect of healing didn’t give them any reassurance. But the five were facing this challenge with grim determination, and all nodded in unison when asked if they were ready.

Gilliam emerged to the outside right after Kahleen, and was surprised to be greeted by a starry sky from above. He had lost track of time, back in the prison-cave, but he hadn’t expected it to be so late in the day. Vincent’s clanking movement from behind brought him back to his senses, and the mercenary began to look around for hulking humanoid shapes. 

Meanwhile, Vincent was getting up from the ground, groaning due to the pain of his sore muscles from all the crawling in the heavy armor. Gon emerged right after him, quickly followed by Darius. Both soldiers glanced at each other warily for a moment, and began to observe their surroundings afterwards without saying a word.

“Unless this one is a nocturnal giant, I’m assuming it’ll be asleep” Vincent commented. Gon nodded and crouched to analyze the ground for tracks. “I hope we can say the same for its pet, that mean bear that almost killed me” the man added. His voice was even, but it was obvious that he didn’t have any positive feelings towards that dire bear in the least.

Gilliam asked Kahleen to keep watch in the direction that they had seen the giant, the opposite way to the city of Wellspring, while he faced the way to their destination, considering the situation. Their choices and resources were limited, but he still felt like there was something more they could do about the matter. Or maybe he was hoping that that was the case. 

“Alright, let’s get moving, we can’t afford to waste another second out here in the open, midnight or not” he said to the rest. Without a word, everyone complied and followed him near the valley’s wall, heading towards Wellspring.

They walked at first, fearful of disturbing the giant or something else in the valley. Kahleen had Blood Moon out at the ready, and the four warriors each had their weapons in hand as well. Eventually, after two hours or so, they dared to trot lightly, now that they had kept a fair distance from the cave and the tunnel. Under the starlight, they were but shadows moving through the valley to the eye of a daylight being. 

But for the eyes of creatures that had an innate darkvision, the five were as obvious as thieves trying to sneak in the middle of a desert at noon. Too late did they realize this, unfortunately.

An enormous rock descended rapidly from above the valley’s wall, and it took Gon’s honed reflexes to yell out just in time, jumping out of the way and making the others imitate him. The rock collided with the solid earth in a massive explosion, a deafening sound that lasted more than one second. It was in that second that the five got up from their prone postures and began a mad run, their destination a city they hoped was less than an hour away.

“How in the Hells did he know we were here?!” Darius shouted as he ran, perplexed. By all rights they had been cautious in their escape, and the giant couldn’t possibly have been spying on them all the time. Still, present evidence seemed to suggest the opposite.

“It doesn’t matter! Save your breath and keep running!” Gilliam replied, sheathing his bastard swords as he did, since he couldn’t use them to fight back. Apparently, the giant was up on the canyon’s edge, right on top of them, the perfect position to bombard them with boulders the size of a horse.

Yet another large stone fell upon the group, and this one nearly smashed on top of Kahleen, but the shaman sidestepped, only getting clipped on the shoulder, without halting her momentum.

At first, they thought as if they could run for the whole night, with the adrenaline pumping through their veins in a steady flow, giving them energy to keep moving ahead. The giant managed to keep their pace, throwing more rocks occasionally, but since it had to run and attack at the same time, its aim was off the target all the time. But as the minutes went by, even the sturdy Gilliam began to feel winded. The fact that they hadn’t spotted city lights by then didn’t do much to bolster their hopes of finding a safe refuge. And the more tired they felt, the easier it would be for the giant’s rocks to finally collapse on top of one of them, burying the victim.

When Gon heard an even louder impact right behind him, even more powerful than the ones from the falling rocks, he couldn’t help but spend an extra second to look over his shoulder.

The giant was there, looming over them, war axe in hand, somehow keeping his running speed after sliding and jumping from the canyon’s wall all the way down to the valley. Gon had known fear from the monster’s pet, but the sensation that overwhelmed him now, preventing him from even screaming in horror, was a hundred times worse than that.

Lifting the massive weapon with two meaty hands, the giant prepared to cleave Gon in two.


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## Cerulean_Wings (Feb 3, 2008)

Another chapter done! I really didn't expect to have the energy for one today, but since it took practically an hour to write it and proof-read it, I don't see why not post it   

I'll be updating the Rogue's Gallery shortly, as our dear characters have gone through many recent hardships, getting a well earned level up in the process  

Chapter 20

*Stone against stone*

Gon jumped forward, using the momentum from the long run to propel himself just as the giant’s axe came down diagonally after him, seeking to separate his torso from his waist.  The roguish soldier twisted his body in mid-air, just as he felt the axe’s fine edge begin to cut his leather armor on his back, and thus turned the deadly slash into a long, thin cut. The wound hurt very much, nonetheless.

Landing was even trickier, for he had changed his posture and footing while jumping, but his credit, Gon was able to return to solid ground without tripping or losing his burst of speed. The giant was still right on his heels, however, and Gon had to abandon his position at the back of the group by speeding up. That left Vincent as the nearest target for the monster’s deadly reach.

“Sorry Vincent, but you’ve got steel between your body and its weapon!” Gon apologized as he dashed forwards, reaching Gilliam at the front of the group in a matter of seconds.  The squire acknowledged this with a nod, but there was little he could do, since their only hope was to reach another safe haven.

Darius, a few feet behind Gilliam and Gon, turned his head, and seemed to slow down for just an instant. Gilliam caught this change and yelled “Damn it, Darius, don’t you even think of stalling it! You’ll only grant us a few seconds, at best!”. This seemed to change the soldier’s mind, and he cursed under his breath before accelerating his march once again.

For the next minute of their desperate run, the four ahead of Vincent heard the sound of an axe splitting and chopping the ground almost non-stop as the giant attempted to cut the squire down with abandon. Fortunately for Vincent, the giant wasn’t in a mood for finesse, and thus all his attacks had missed, if narrowly, so far.

“You killed Stone Crusher!” the rampaging monster bellowed at one point in-between swings. Vincent had to side-step to avoid the next one, which predictably split the ground as if it was made of butter. “And now you killed my other pet, Mauler!” the monster continued with even more ire. “You will pay in blood!”

Gon looked over his shoulder, his face a mask of confusion. “Now look here, mister, we may have killed that land shark of yours, but we most certainly didn’t kill-“ he was saying, but got interrupted by the giant’s next angry shout.
“LIES!”

The giant swung at Vincent’s moving form yet again, his luck at striking the elf down even lower, for he attacked in a blind rage. “All lies! My bear is dead because of you, just like the man told me!”.

“Man?” Gilliam mouthed, losing his focus on the run for just a moment. In the back of his mind, he thought he had an idea of who it could be, but he had no time to ponder its significance, with an angry brute chasing after them. 

“Gilliam” called the voice of Kahleen, sounding awfully tired. “I don’t think I can run much more than this”. Gilliam glanced back at the shaman, and she looked on the verge of collapse. He knew that Kahleen hadn’t trained her endurance like the rest, but he had hoped she would last more than this.

“Just a bit further, Kahleen” Darius said in Gilliam’s stead, right besides the woman. “If need be, I’ll carry you over my shoulders!” he said with determination, although his claim was a bit exaggerated. His breastplate wasn’t allowing him for much movement, and its extra layers of metal were a curse more than a boon at times like these. 

His words seemed to bolster the shaman’s resolve, though, and she kept going without another word. For how long, nobody knew, and they hoped it would be for long enough to reach the city in the valley. The map they had indicated they were close, very close, to Wellspring, but the exact distance was impossible to determine. While Kahleen might very well be the first to fall from exhaustion, the rest wouldn’t take long to follow.

Darius spotted a natural bridge ahead, connecting one wall to the other at the very top of the canyon, and dearly wished he could somehow drop the entire thing on top of their pursuer. An idea sparked in his head, then, and turned his face to Kahleen. 

“Can you use your magic to drop that bridge of stone?” he asked. The shaman looked up to where the soldier was referring to. “I’m afraid not, Darius. It’s too far away for my powers to reach it” she explained, leaving Darius disillusioned, lamenting his idea wouldn’t help. 

They were passing right under the stone bridge moments later, when they heard a cry from above, drawing their attention upwards, not sure what to expect next. The giant cried in pain as a large rock that had been thrown from the bridge’s edge fell on his head.

“Damnation, more giants!” Gilliam cursed. 

“But these ones have bad aim, boss!” Gon pointed out, seeing how the giant had a nasty bruise on its shoulder where the rock had hit.  That wasn’t stopping it, clearly, but it had given the group a few seconds of distance between it.

Within another second, more rocks descended at the same time, and they were all aimed for the lumbering humanoid, striking the giantmore often than not, its massive frame an easy target for the rock-throwers above.

Vincent was the only one looking thoughtful at this turn of events, and glanced back at the bridge once they had passed it, trying to discern the figures on top of the stone. The squire’s eyes widened in surprise as he made out the shapes of their helpers with the aid of his low light vision.

“Good Gods,” he gasped, “it’s the Mountaineers!”. The only one who didn’t react positively to this was Darius, for the soldier had never been to the Gray Spears, and thus wouldn’t know what Vincent was referring to.

By now, the giant was being bombarded by an avalanche of stones of different sizes, all of them bigger than a chair, some even as large as a horse. This prevented the giant from running after the five, as he attempted to block the incoming projectiles with its big arms, throwing back some of them when he had the chance. Its aim was off, however, as launching the stones up towards the bridge was hard, even for someone as strong as the giant. 

Seeing that the chase was over, for now, the group stopped for a brief rest to regain their breath. Vincent collapsed on the ground with a loud clank, joined by Darius and Kahleen a second later. Only Gon and Gilliam had the strength left to remain standing, and the former used the break to ask the latter to examine his wound on his back. 

“It’s not that bad” Gilliam informed Gon. “But we’ll have to take care of it soon, lest it gets infected”. Gon nodded and lowered his armor back to cover his back, readjusting the straps afterwards.

Gilliam looked back to see the giant still attempting to bring the bridge down, even after realizing how futile it was to attempt throwing rocks at it from down below. The monster yelled angrily, its body covered in bruises and thick blood everywhere, and after another exchange of heavy stones finally decided to retreat, running back the way it came.

There were cheers and hoots of victory, then, on top of the stone bridge, and while no one down in the valley could see very well in the distance, it was easy to tell by the sounds of movement that their saviors had started to go somewhere else.

The five watched the giant’s dark form get smaller and smaller as it went away, and they would’ve cheered as well had they not been dead tired. Darius had somehow managed to obtain a sitting position, looking no less tired than the rest.

“What’s a Mountaineer?” he asked in-between heavy intakes of air. Vincent pointed with one finger at the valley’s wall from his prone posture on the ground. Darius looked that way, but failed to see anything of importance.

“You’ll see soon enough, once they get down here” Gilliam responded, looking in the same direction as Darius. The soldier frowned and turned to face him. “They’re going to climb all the way down, in the middle of the night?”.

Gilliam only smiled and nodded, taking long breaths as he waited. Darius couldn’t see in the dark, but he heard voices and sounds of something climbing down the wall. Within minutes, a quintet of mounted figures approached them, two of them dwarves, and the other three humans. They were all dressed in the same outfit, gray leathers covered by dark green clothes, carrying bows on their backs, along with axes on their belts. 

Much to Darius’ surprise, they were riding lizards that were not as tall as horses, but certainly longer than them. They had approached them in a diamond formation, and the leader of the five, a crusty old dwarf, laughed loudly after reaching the group. 

“Ho ho! Lookie here, my men! We’ve got five fine folks coming from the west, all exhausted from that mean giant chasin’ ‘em”. The dwarf’s humor wasn’t appreciated as much due to their current condition, but Gilliam smiled back at the comment nonetheless.

“Mountaineer Graybeard, if my memory doesn’t fail me” the mercenary greeted. The dwarf nodded back and saluted him formally. “That be me, lad, the one an’ only” he replied more seriously. “Are ye folks a’ight?”.

The sight of three out of five knocked out cold on the ground should’ve been answer enough for him, but Gilliam indulged Mountaineer Graybeard nonetheless. “Apart from exhaustion and a rough wound for Gon, here, not much else” he explained, turning around to gesture at Gon. Somehow, the man wasn’t standing anymore, but instead was laying on the ground face-down, as if he had collapsed from tiredness.

“I’m alright, I simply tripped on a rock” Gon said as he began to get up, his face practically unrecognizable from all the dirt that was over it. Gilliam frowned, but said nothing. One of the Mountaineers broke from their formation to get closer to the prone forms of Kahleen, Darius and Vincent. “Can you folks move?” asked the human on top of the lizard. The replies came in the form of groans and grunts, and the rider dismounted in order to carry one of them onto his mount. 

Mountaineer Graybeard nodded in agreement, offering Gilliam a hand to mount his lizard with him. “Let’s go, lad. Ye’ll tell me the whole tale once we get to Wellspring”. The mercenary took it without a word, sitting himself right behind the dwarf. 

Darius had just been placed on top of a lizard as well, looking confused. “So, you are, what, Wellspring’s scouts?” he inquired to the rider who was controlling the lizard he was on.

“More like Wellspring’s guard, lad” the leading dwarf responded with wink.


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## Cerulean_Wings (Feb 5, 2008)

Here's the next chapter... but before that, I'd like to explain the condition I'm in, if in a geeky fashion: I rolled a freakin' 1 in my Fort save against this cold. Really, one would think that with my godly Fort save I never fail the save, but alas, once upon a year it happens. I didn't go to work, mainly because I'd spread the germs to the seniors there. Hopefully I can return tomorrow.

Oh, well, who cares about my disease, you want some story hour goodness, don'tcha? Yes, yes you do   

Chapter 21

*Wellspring*

Darius woke up in a haze. His muscles felt as sore as humanly possible, and it was a conscious effort to open his eyes to see where he was. The sensation of moving back and forth should’ve been a big enough hint for the soldier to realize he was mounting a giant lizard along with a dwarven rider. His head was lying against the back of the dwarf, and he moved it a bit to test his neck’s muscles.

“What the…”

Looking at his right arm, Darius realized that he no longer had his fine steel shield strapped on to it. It must have fell on the way as they ran from the giant. While he lamented losing the piece of protection, it wasn’t that big of a loss, he figured. Darius craned his neck up, or tried to, as a bright blinding light made him wince and cover his sight with an arm. 

“Sun’s up, lad!” the dwarf rider announced, unnecessarily. “But we’ll make it to Wellspring long before noon, don’tcha worry”.

Darius grunted in response as he adjusted his eyes to the sun’s light in order to look around and get his bearings. He spied the other four mounts around him, each with two riders.  

The soldier from Seawall heard his name from the side, and turned his head to face the speaker. Vincent was there, to his left, resting his body on the human rider that was with him, somehow managing to avoid crushing the man with his heavy armor.

“Sleep well?” the squire teased with a tired smile. Darius would’ve laughed, had his rib muscles felt better at the time. “Same as you, Vince” he replied with a wink.

A notion crossed Darius’ mind then, and he frowned momentarily, thinking. 

“How did you know of the Mountaineers, if you’ve never been to Wellspring?” Darius inquired. Vincent’s answer came several seconds later, for the tired squire yawned loudly before words could come out of his mouth. “I didn’t know of them from previous experience, but from my history lessons with House Kashtar”.

With that curiosity settled, Darius went back to resting his head on the dwarf in front of him, who didn’t object, attempting to drift back into unconsciousness. He failed miserably. His muscles were very sore, but his body was refilled with energy after the night’s sleep, uncomfortable as it had been.

“Cheer up, Broken blade!” said a very annoying and somehow energetic voice behind him. “You’ll have me to entertain you for the trip!” Gon promised, and Darius had not doubt that the man meant every word of it. Now, what Gon defined as ‘entertainment’ Darius often perceived as ‘excruciating torture through speech’.

Suddenly, the notion of knocking himself senseless with the hilt of his own sword didn’t seem that undesirable.

---oOo--- 

As the Mountaineer had promised Darius, they reached Wellspring in an hour, well before noon. The town was placed right in the center of the valley, where the canyon’s walls assumed a circular shape and expanded, allowing for ten kilometers or so of space for the town to live in.

Wellspring had a defensive perimeter which consisted of sturdy stone walls, each tall enough to even force a giant to bring them down in order to get past them. Mountaineers were positioned on their large lizards on top of the wall, their mount’s sticky feet allowing them to walk over them without problems. The guards never rested, not while on their shift; while attacks to the town were rare, only one raid of savage monsters or animals could prove disastrous.

The town consisted of approximately eight thousand inhabitants, and the population shifted constantly with the incoming merchant caravans, which settled in the town for many months, and the departure of the younger folk, always eager to explore the rest of the world. Everyone lived in two-store houses, for the most part, and the town’s buildings were organized in a circle, meaning that the most important buildings, such as the temples and the mayor’s house were placed near the center.

“Just like I remembered it” Kahleen commented to no one in particular when they had reached the gates. The mountaineers guarding the entrance didn’t have to ask for anything out of the group, for they were riding with their comrades. With no more than a salute, the quintet of lizards was allowed passage inside. 

Inside, the roads were of dirt, just like outside the town, and the only one surprised by this was Darius, who had never read or heard of Wellspring. The soldier knew better than to even ask about the matter, and remained quiet as their riders took them deeper and deeper into the town.

“We’ll be takin’ ye to tha’ Wellspring Inn, so tha’ ye may rest and eat well” Mountaineer Graybeard assured them from his leading position. Those words were music to the ears of the five weary fellows.

And so they did. The rides weren’t as fast as horses, but they saved some time in their brief trek to the inn. After dismounting, Gilliam shared a couple of words with Mountaineer Graybeard before saluting him and returning to the group. The leading guard nodded grimly and took off with the other four.

“What were you telling him?” Vincent inquired after the mercenary walked back to them, right by the door to the Wellspring Inn. Gilliam gestured towards the entrance and whispered, “Let’s talk about it inside”. Without another word, he opened the door and went in. The rest did the same, save for Kahleen and Gon, as the woman placed a hand on his shoulder to keep him in place.

The shaman observed the man’s face with scrutiny, for he was wearing a red handkerchief over his mouth, like a bandit. “Why do you wear that cloth?” she asked, curious. He had cleaned the dirt from his face with the cloth, and had kept it on his face.

“I’m sick, is all” Gon replied in a voice that did sound ill, shrugging. “I don’t want to pass it on to you or the others, lady” he added with a wink. “Come; let us delve into the inn with the rest”. Kahleen didn't say anything, and they both entered the building.

From the outside, the Wellspring Inn didn’t look like anything else than a large three store house, shaped like an “L”. However, the inside was very well furnished: not exuberantly so to the point of golden chandeliers and diamond vases, but very well decorated nonetheless. The windows must have been designed to contain noise from within, for upon entering the building one couldn’t help but notice the dramatic and spontaneous increase of sound. People weren’t acting rowdy or violently, but merely laughing, singing and dancing in a very loud fashion. 

It didn’t get any friendlier than this when it came to mountain inns!

Kahleen spotted the other three first, who were sitting near a window in a long rectangular table. Privacy wasn’t difficult to obtain, since the place wasn’t crammed with visitors, and the noise in the area permitted anyone to share their secrets without inconveniences. 

Everyone had taken a seat, after Kahleen and Gon joined them, and the four were waiting on Gilliam, who was busy looking through the window. At what, no one really knew.

Vincent cleared his throat, drawing the mercenary’s attention. Gilliam looked distracted and blinked once before recalling why in the Hells they were all seating around him, waiting for him to say something.

“I was telling the Mountaineer captain to keep an eye for suspicious folk, that’s all” he explained in a casual tone. His look indicated that there was more than that involved. Darius noticed this and leaned forward in order to talk in a lower voice. “You think someone is after us, even here, away from Seawall?” the soldier asked.

Gilliam shook his head, looking away, pretending he didn’t hear anything. “No” he responded. “I know there’s someone trying to kill us, but through others”. Gon snapped his fingers, as if struck by an idea, and Vincent looked at him expectantly. 

“I think I know who you refer to, boss” the wily man said, just as a barmaid approached their table. Gilliam waved her away rather rudely, rejecting her offer of drinks. Gon shifted his eyes, making sure no one was close to enough to overhear his words. Satisfied, he whispered “Ignus”.

Vincent, Darius and Kahleen stared blankly at him, clearly not understanding what he just said. “Ignus, the wizard” Gon insisted, looking at them as if they had faulty memories. “Back at the warehouse” he added, seeing that the name hadn’t sparked anything. That got their attention, generating frowns from the others.

“It makes sense” Darius observed, rubbing his chin as he looked down at the table. “The giant mentioned that a man informed him that we killed its bear, back when he was chasing us”. 

“But we didn’t perform the deed; and it would take magical powers to allow Ignus to follow us through the mountain pass, unseen and unheard, in order to reach the giant and convince him of what we supposedly did” the shaman stated, and Gilliam’s nod indicated he had thought the very same thing.

“You didn’t ask for drinks from the barmaid because they could be poisoned” Gon stated in a dead serious tone. Vincent’s mouth fell open, aghast, but no sound came from it. Darius glanced conspicuously at the barmaid, as If attempting to spy a poisoned dagger hidden in her clothes.

“When being followed by wolves, the sheep must be cautious” Kahleen said wisely. Gilliam got up from his seat and headed for the bar, where the human barkeep was currently polishing an empty cup of glass, as barkeeps are usually found doing.

“How many rooms have you got for five people, good sir?” the mercenary asked as he leaned on the wooden surface separating him from the other man. The barkeep looked up, his hands wiping the glass on their own accord. “None, I’m afraid. You’ll have to make do with two rooms, one for three, one for two” he responded.

“Damnation” Gilliam cursed. “What was that?” the barkeep inquired, unsure if he heard correctly. Gilliam waved a hand to brush away the word. “Nevermind that. Two rooms will do. How much is it?” he asked while digging his hand through his satchel placed by belt. Or at least he wanted to, for there was no satchel there.

The barkeep informed it would be two silver coins for each person, but Gilliam wasn’t listening; he looked around, trying to determine if the satchel had fallen to the ground. Alas, it wasn’t to be found around.

“A thief took it” said a voice behind Gilliam. He turned to see Gon, leaning casually against the bar. In his upraised hand he was holding a satchel, one identical to Gilliam’s. The red haired man jingled the small container, making the coins within clatter. It seemed fuller than before.

Gon tossed it to Gilliam without a word, and thanks to his bandit-mask Gilliam couldn’t see his face. “As I said, a thief took it, and I got it back for you” Gon announced proudly. “No need to thank me, boss”.

Gilliam was about to reply when he heard the barkeep knock on the wood in-between them, drawing his attention. “Are you going to pay, or what?” he asked with a frown. The mercenary opened the satchel of coins, and his eyes widened when he spotted platinum coins within, replacing the silver ones he originally had. Without thinking, he dropped a platinum one on the bar, and the barkeep’s eyes widened to the size of the coin.

“Keep the change, good sir” Gon called with a wink, turning around to walk back to the table. Gilliam was left there, staring at the cunning soldier, wondering if he would soon be hearing stories of a wealthy merchant who got his money stolen in broad daylight. Cursing under his breath, Gilliam decided he would need to have a talk with the man when he had the chance. 

How in the Hell’s Gon had found the time to get that money, only the Gods knew.


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## Megapurrr (Feb 5, 2008)

I hope that you get better! So that you can write the next one...


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## Cerulean_Wings (Feb 6, 2008)

Megapurrr said:
			
		

> I hope that you get better! So that you can write the next one...




Thanks for the encouraging words, Megapurr, I do hope I feel better soon 

That being said, as long as I don't feel worse, I should be able to write up the next one...

In other news, the Rogue's Gallery has been updated once more


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## Cerulean_Wings (Feb 6, 2008)

So I'm still sick, which means I don't get to go to work. On the flipside, I have enough energy/creative juice to write up yet _another_ update. You lose some, you win some, or so the saying goes.

So here ya go, next chapter, with a cliffhanger included as a bonus. Man, I love writing those! Now I understand why Lazybones does so many...   


Chapter 22

*The game of life*

The group ate a quick meal in the inn after Kahleen (and not surprisingly, Gon) had assured the rest that the food wasn’t poisoned. Vincent had voiced his opinion regarding the level of caution they were taking, but Gilliam wouldn’t have any of it, and dismissed his suggestions to lower their guard. Afterwards, they went for the rooms upstairs, and since they didn’t plan to change clothes there, Kahleen was allowed in the room with Gon and Vincent at the same time. Gilliam admitted they could use some extra sleeping hours, but the mercenary was hell bent in leaving Wellspring before the next day.

“We can’t linger here too long; the wizard, Ignus, will probably send something or someone else to hunt us down, whatever his motives” he had told the others. 

They slept with their doors locked, one of the room inhabitants awake while the others rested. This didn’t last for long, only until the late afternoon when everyone got together in Gilliam’s room to discuss what they would do.

Five minutes later everyone was outside the Wellspring Inn, each of the companions walking in a different direction. Well, all save for Gon and Darius, the pair of soldiers remained impassive by the inn’s entrance, watching the three others walk away to perform the tasks they had distributed.

“What are we supposed to do, if you three are taking care of the food and equipment?” Darius called after them from where he was standing at. 

Gilliam turned his head to reply as he walked. “I don’t know; go do something fun together. You have an hour, so use it wisely”. And with that, he kept moving away, leaving Gon and Darius in the same dilemma. Both men looked at each other warily, like beasts do when observing the opposing alpha male in the herd. Gon’s face was still masked by the handkerchief, but his expression was all too clear in his gaze.

“So” Gon began in a flat tone.

“So” his counterpart repeated, shifting uneasy as he glanced around, looking for an excuse to get the Hell out of there.

Gon sighed in annoyance and did the same thing; but alas, there wasn’t anything or anyone around to avoid the blond soldier. Darius raised an eyebrow at this, not really expecting that reaction from the usually cheerful man, and began walking away without a word. 

Much to Darius’ displeasure, the red-haired soldier followed him, with his hands deep in his pockets of his leather trousers. “Do you have to follow me around all the time?” Darius protested. 

“There’s no one else to talk to, so I might as well” the other soldier replied, his tone far from sounding joking or mocking, as it usually was. Gon kicked a stone lying near him far away as he got closer to Darius.

They walked in silence, side by side, encountering several Mountaineers on the way who seemed keen in patrolling the area, along with several town folk who greeted them warmly. Their walk lead to the very center of the town. Four buildings were there: the mayor’s house, the one temple of Berethor, the Mountaineer’s barracks, and a large abandoned building, which probably served as a guild house in the past.  It was the late afternoon, with the twilight fast approaching, and not a soul was near the two soldiers of the Honor Guard at the time.

“Where’s everybody?” Darius wondered out loud, coming to a stop by the stone fence surrounding the mayor’s house, which was almost as tall as him. Gon did likewise, folding his arms and taking a look around, but didn’t respond to the question.

Several silent moments passed by, as neither man opted to strike up some talk. 

“Let me make it clear to you, Broken blade” Gon said at length, drawing Darius’ attention. “I. Don’t. Like. You” he declared, saying every word slowly, separate from the rest. 

“The feeling is mutual, Gon” Darius responded dryly, although he was surprised by this revelation. “I can’t say I enjoy your presence, with all your senseless talk and overly cheerful jokes directed at me. At my expense, no less”.

“And I can’t stand your ‘I’m better than you, and so I act serious and important’ attitude, Broken blade. Makes me want to slice your throat open” the roguish soldier retorted, his tone equaling the intention of his words. This shocked Darius, who couldn’t hide his startled expression at first.

 Then they spent several seconds in a silent stare, but eventually Darius sighed and looked away. “Why do you say things like ‘let’s end this little game of ours’ when it comes to battling our foes?” he asked.

Gon’s frown disappeared and he shrugged. “Life’s a game, Broken blade” he explained in a more casual tone. “You lose, you die; you win, your opponent dies. Easy as that”.

“You know, I never really understood why you are the way you are: annoying, energetic, overtly cheerful, and so on” Darius commented off-hand. “Maybe if we knew more about each other we wouldn’t be at odds constantly”.

Gon’s laugh filled the silent streets of the town’s center briefly. “Really now!” he said at length after his laugh was over. “Is this what you people do? Travel to places, kill anything that stands in your way, then chat amongst each other about your personal history in between the killing?”. He laughed once more, apparently finding humor in this.

“Would you rather talk about it while doing the killing?” Darius retorted. Gon shook his head as Darius said the words, his face showing pure amusement. “You are funny, Broken blade, very funny; I’ll grant you that much”. The blond soldier didn’t know if to take this as an insult or praise, and remained silent. 

“My past is my own, and I have no need to share it with anyone”. Gon glanced at Darius before adding, “Especially with you, an uptight-good-for-nothing-soldier”.

This drew a scowl from Darius, who turned to fully face the man, clearly angered by this. He didn’t get to say a word in return, however, as Gon knocked him down with a flying tackle, taking Darius completely by surprise as he was taken to the ground in a heap. 

“What in the Hells is _wrong_ with you?” Darius shouted from his now prone position as he tried to push Gon away. The other soldier didn’t need any pushing, apparently, and he got up in a blink. In the span of a second, Gon had his light crossbow in hand, aiming high towards the abandoned guild house across the street.

“You can thank me later for saving your life, Broken blade” Gon said as he pressed the trigger and allowed the bolt to fly through the air in direction of the building’s window. Darius saw that there was a darkened figure in there who got hit by the bolt squarely in the chest, but this didn’t disable it.

Still sitting on the ground, Darius looked back at the spot where he had been leaning against the stone fence, and only then did the notice the arrow that had been shot at him, stuck against the fence. There was a shout from somewhere, probably from within the guild house, and Darius didn’t waste another moment, coming to a standing position and drawing his long sword, trying to discern the location of other enemies.

The guild house’s door spontaneously opened wide in order to allow two rabid-looking dogs charge towards Darius. They cleared the forty feet of distance between them and their prey quickly, jumping at the end with their jaws wide open. But the soldier had been waiting for such an attack, and he dispatched the first jumping canine with one slash of his sword by using all of his enhanced strength in the strike. The other dog managed to bite him in the arm after the attack, but the wound wasn’t very severe due to his armor’s protection.

Instead of trying to shake the dog loose from his arm, Darius let go of the sword with his injured arm, opting to plunge the blade directly into the animal’s chest with his remaining sword arm. The dog yelped, releasing Darius’ limb before collapsing to the ground, dead.

Darius looked to the side, about to ask Gon to give him cover with the crossbow, when he realized that the soldier wasn’t there. Desperate, Darius shifted to a more defensive stance, lest he get attacked again by surprise, all the while looking around for a place where to hide. The fence behind him would do the trick, but he wouldn’t be able to retaliate from there. A _twang_ alerted him of another attack, but it wasn’t directed at him. The arrow zipped over Darius and struck the mayor’s wall. Judging by the footsteps behind the fence, it had to be where Gon was standing a moment ago.

“I’ll distract the archer, get inside the building!” Gon whispered as high as he could from behind the stone fence, his voice accompanied by the sounds of a crossbow being reloaded. Darius nodded in acknowledgement before making a beeline for the guild house. Out of instinct, he drew out his short spear after sheathing the long sword in its scabbard. He didn’t know what to expect one inside the place, but the spear’s potential to be thrown added flexibility to his attack maneuvers. 

Darius had almost made it to the opened door, and was almost forgetting about the dog’s bite when searing pain erupted on his right shoulder. He didn’t have to take a close look to understand he had been shot from above with an arrow, so he braced himself, ignoring the recent wound as he entered the guild house. There was still some semblance of natural light outside, but the interior of the place seemed to be anathema to it. 

Taking a cautious step forward, rather than charging in while yelling out his full name, Darius held tightly to his short spear, every muscle in his body tense. He could only hear movement above, on the second floor, but then again, he was dealing with people trying to kill him, and stealth was one of their many allies. Upon crossing the threshold, the soldier could smell “old” in the large and spacious dark room. He spied fallen chairs and tables around the corners, along with a book case that was still standing up in good condition. Directly across from the door was a wooden staircase going up.

Darius took another step inside, as he didn’t see any threats in the vicinity. That was precisely when the door closed shut behind him, and several crossbows clicked at the same time, all aimed at one target: his heart.


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## Cerulean_Wings (Feb 10, 2008)

Stop!

Update time!

*breaks off into dancing a la Mc Hammer*

A'ight, so I've been sick. I've recovered. I've also discovered that by blinking a lot while using the PC I can prevent my eyes from hurting. Jubilation. Which means... more updates!   

Here's the update you've all been waiting for. Sorry for keeping the cliffhanger for so long, I didn't intend to do so originally   

If any of you faithful readers have any criticism regarding how I deal with battle scenes, please let me know. If there's something I could change, add, removed, or whatever, it'd be nice to hear it to consider it   


Chapter 23

*At the wrong place at the wrong time*

Darius ducked, narrowly avoiding all three bolts shot at him. He heard one zip past his ear, the other over his head, ruffling his hair, and the last one glancing off his magical breastplate. In the second that it took for this to happen, several thoughts raced through the soldier’s mind.

_Why in the Hells did I get in here? Why didn’t I go to the Mountaineers and request their help? Oh, no, of course I didn’t: I accepted to get in here, all by myself, while Gon protected me with his crossbow. So much for that, I’ve an arrow stuck in my shoulder anyway. _

Hearing the tell-tale sound of crossbows being reloaded nearby, Darius had to act fast. He guided himself by sound, since everything was as dark as it could be, and ran over to the right, where a pair of tables served as a barricade for the person behind.

_Wait, why did Gon tell me to go into the building all by myself? The bastard! He has sent me to my death. If I survive this, he’s a dead, dead man._

Darius shook those thoughts away in order to better focus in the battle at hand. He was outmatched three-to-one, that much he knew, and being distracted while it happened didn’t really even those odds. Instead of trying to jump over the barricade, Darius brought his spear back with two hands to gain momentum as he reached the tables. With a mighty thrust, the spear pierced the wood and the person that was hidden behind at the same time, making a brochette of table and man.

The spear’s victim grunted in pain as the weapon’s tip went through his leg, but the man was tough enough to push it away, getting up in a blink as he drew a slender rapier with one hand, making an elegant flourish with it. Darius tried to follow the weapon’s quick movements before realizing he was allowing it to distract him.

Two simultaneous clicks heralded two bolts from the other humanoids, and both found its mark, since Darius was giving them his back and was currently engaged in melee. The soldier held back a cry of pain, feeling the projectiles pierce his armor. The wounds didn’t feel deep, but every little thing was adding to the earlier wounds he already had received.

The man in front of him, his face covered by a scarf, finished the flourish-which was an elaborate feint-by stabbing Darius in the arm. Or at least, he tried to, for the soldier had switched stances, from an all-out tactic to a more defensive one, and deflected the rapier with his spear shaft.   

“Feran, will you hurry up and restrain him!” yelled one of the crossbow wielders from behind, and Darius hoped that this Feran wasn’t a fourth assailant in the room. Without hesitating, Darius counter attacked with the spear in a violent two handed thrust, impaling the man with the rapier in the stomach, bringing him down to the ground as he clutched the mortal wound. As the man went down, Darius heard some strange words being said by the staircase.

And then there was the oddest feeling he had ever felt: it was as if his muscles, bones and nerves ceased to respond to his command, almost like they were going to sleep. And no matter how much insistence Darius put into waking them, they didn’t react. 

He was frozen in place by some strange power.

“He’s held!” cried a voice from the stairs, likely the source of Darius’ paralysis. “Get him while the spell lasts!”. The two other men didn’t need any prodding, and they rushed over to Darius, rapiers in hand. One prodded the soldier in the arm with the sword as if to test his reaction, and he was satisfied at seeing that there wasn’t even so much as a grunt in reply.

A slender figure dressed in simple leather cloth walked over to where Darius stood. “Quick now, bind him; the spell won’t last long” he instructed swiftly. The other two were about to take out some ropes for the task when one stopped short as he peered at Darius more closely.

“Now wait a second, here…” he said while observing Darius’ face more closely. “Ain’t he supposed to be red-haired? This fella’ here is blond”. His accomplices looked at each other, then at the immobilized soldier. 

“Now that you mention it,” the wizard reflected, rubbing his chin as he contemplated Darius more closely, “he doesn’t even look like him. At all”. The remaining man scratched his head, confused. “But he has to be! Look, dressed as a soldier of the Honor Guard and everythin’! If he ain’t Gon, then who is?”.

Darius’ mood had switched from desperate, as he was helpless against his foes, to perplexed, when they discussed how he looked, and finally to anger, as he found out that son of a whore named Gon had been the intended target all along and he, Darius, had been sent in his stead. 

With a sudden shout that turned into a war cry, Darius swung his spear horizontally, smacking the three men and pushing them away from him. It seemed to him that powerful emotions allowed people to triumph over magic, and in his current state, Darius’ anger could’ve beaten most spellcasters through sheer force of will. 

The moment of surprise wouldn’t last more than an instant, Darius realized, and he dropped the spear in order to draw his sword from his scabbard. The metallic ring of steel leaving its sheath rang in the dark room, filling Darius’ foes with sudden dread. The enraged soldier began a wide diagonal cut from right to left, and the man on the far right wasn’t ready for it. Blood spurted from the vicious wound that formed after the blade’s edge slashed him in the chest, and the man began to collapse to the floor. 

But Darius wasn’t done just then. He continued the movement with the sword held in two hands, displacing it to the left in order to cut his companion as well. This other man was better prepared, and he jumped back in order to avoid the fate of his companion. The man lifted his rapier just as the mage begun to conjure magic through elaborate finger movements and words of power.

Darius dashed forward in order to interrupt the mage’s casting, but the other warrior stepped in-between the two, his rapier a blur as it moved in quick circles before it came to a sudden stop, puncturing Darius in the wrist, loosening his grip on the sword. A kick from the man finished what the rapier had started, and the fine longsword flew from Darius’ grasp to land on the ground several feet away.

The bite wound from the dog; the arrow in his shoulder; the crossbow bolts in his back. All those individual injuries were, by themselves, nothing to worry about. Combined, they proved lethal to Darius. The mage finished his casting with his arms extended in front of him, palms forward, as electricity emerged from his fingertips and combined into the shape of an orb. In a blink, the electric orb flew from the mage’s hands and collided into Darius, not only ignoring his breastplate, but also using it as a conduit to deal further damage as it electrocuted the man. 

Seriously shaken and filled with uncontrollable spasms, Darius couldn’t hope to stay on his feet for long. He gritted his teeth, trying to steady himself, but to no avail. Through the sparks that flew in the air in front of him, the weakened solider saw the man with the rapier take careful aim, right before slashing at his throat.

A crossbow bolt collided against the rapier’s blade, deflecting it, and saving Darius’ life. Both wizard and warrior looked over behind Darius, and what they saw wasn’t good at all.

“May I join in the fun, gentlemen? This is a game that I intend to finish, once and for all” Gon said from the doorway, his crossbow in one hand, now empty of a quarrel. The roguish soldier dropped it and ran into the room, drawing his longsword in the way.

“And so you’re back, Gon: back to pay for your crimes against our guild!” cried the wizard, his arms already moving in order to conjure yet more magical energy. The man with the rapier stepped in front of him to block the incoming Gon, stabbing at him with the weapon when he got close enough. 

But Gon wasn’t there anymore. The soldier had gracefully dropped to the ground in a roll, going right under the man’s blade, passing him by in an instant and standing up right in front of the mage, who wasn’t nearly finished with his casting. Gon’s sword flashed, and the mage’s right arm was coated in red due to the wound that had appeared there. In great pain as he was, the mage couldn’t complete the spell, and he paled, seeing that Gon wasn’t slowing down or looking like the merciful type of man.

“Game over for you, Faren” announced the red-haired man as he raised the longsword in the air for a final strike. His attention shifted from the mage to the hot burning pain in his thigh, which was caused by a rapier being inserted there. Seeing his chance, Faren fled from the scene, going around the combatants and rushing out the door, blood streaming out from his arm. 

“Oh, you want to play as well?” Gon asked, his grimace hidden with the handkerchief covering his face. Whirling around, he slashed at the man behind him, and the other took a hit in the shoulder as he tried to avoid it. 

Darius just stood there, looking like a dead tree that was about to topple over as soon as a slight wind reached him. “Sheesh, Broken blade, at least try to pretend you’re not near death. You look horrifying” Gon chastised him as he deflected an incoming rapier thrust. He returned the attack in kind with his sword, descending the blade from above, but his opponent was very experience, and saw it coming. A well timed side step allowed him to avoid getting cleaved in twain. 

The two remaining warriors were then absorbed in the dance with death, each striking, parrying and dodging the other’s attack. For an onlooker, it might have seemed as if they were evenly matched, but to the experienced fighter the result was obvious. The man confronting Gon was rapidly tiring, and Gon not only noticed, but counted on this.

Gon’s longsword came from below, like an uppercut, but the move was slow and badly aimed, which the man blocked with a downwards parry. His attention focused on the blade below, he didn’t see Gon’s punch coming right after his nose, smashing it solidly and leaving it flat against his face.

Dazed, the last foe couldn’t possibly prevent Gon’s blade from being driven into his chest to the cross guard, ending him. With a mighty pull, the sword was free from the corpse, and Gon walked over to Darius, who still remained standing a foot away, staring at the floor.

“That’s twice in the same day I’ve saved your life. But, oh well, I suppose I’ll let the second one pass, since you went in all by yourself and whatnot” Gon said as he patted Darius in the arm reassuringly.

Darius response was to descend to the floor, face first, without making another sound than a grunt of pain upon landing. Gon was about to make a witty remark about Darius’ way of lying down, but a cry from outside distracted him. The rogue remembered then that Faren, the mage, had managed to escape. 

Upon reaching the outside of the building, Gon looked around, and in short term he spotted the bloodied mage lying on the ground right by the temple’s entrance. An older looking human in cerulean robes was kneeling besides him in the process of chanting a prayer to Berethor.

“Don’t let him move, good priest!” Gon called as he ran towards him. “That mage has attempted to-“ he was saying, but his voice left him upon recognizing the priest that was healing Faren. The man finished the prayer and turned his head to look at Gon, barely ten feet away.

“Ah, _acolyte_ Gon” the priest said with a dry tone. “How _good_ to see you after so many years”.


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## Cerulean_Wings (Feb 11, 2008)

Heeeeeeeey! I bet you didn't see this coming, huh? An update in two consecutive days?  

I have more energy and time than before, and thus there will be more frequent updates. Let us rejoice. I'm taking my time to write each chapter at a slower pace, rather than rushing scenes and leaving stuff unfinished or vague. 

Let's see how it works. Or rather, _you_ tell me if it works, how about that?   


Chapter 24

*Unforgotten deeds*

Vincent kept running beside Mountaineer Graybeard’s lizard mount and was beginning to find it difficult to breathe after merely sixty feet of such exercise. The old dwarf had offered to give the squire a ride, but he had refused and now he was paying the price of putting his pride ahead of his bodily limitations; his heavy armor didn’t allow for much running. 

“How far ‘till the center of the town?” Vincent asked the Mountaineer as they went. They had heard reports from several villagers of a fight going on in the abandoned guild house by the center of Wellspring, and it had taken a mere minute for the Mountaineer’s to get organized for the investigation. In the waning day, as the twilight enveloped the town in partial, Vincent could spot at least fifteen other lizard riders moving in the same direction in groups of four and five. 

“Not much, lad” the Mountaineer replied in a serious tone. By the looks of it, Wellspring didn’t have many dangerous confrontations going in within its walls, and thus the call from several townspeople drove the guards to exterminate whatever potential trouble had risen. Or at least that’s what Vincent figured. 

To the elf’s eyes, even without the help of the torches carried by the Mountaineers, it was easy to tell what was going on in the scene ahead. There was a robed man talking to another in leather armor by the temple stairs, while a third lay down on the floor nearby, his hands bound by ropes. Vincent felt his throat constrict a bit, seeing that this involved a member of his group, Gon, who was talking to the priest.

Many things happened at once after the whole Mountaineer troupe reached the very center of the town. A squad of four dismounted their lizards in order to rush into the supposedly abandoned guild house. Another group of five guards moved over to the temple’s entrance in order to converse with the priest and Gon.  The third squad started patrolling the perimeter of the area, not stopping even for concerned citizens that approached every now and then to inquire what the matter was.

Vincent didn’t know where to go, and so he stayed in between the mayor’s house and the guild house until he could find a task to assist with. He couldn’t spot Gilliam, Kahleen or Darius anywhere, and hoped that they would be there soon. 

“We need a healer!”.

Coming from the guild house were two Mountaineers, and in their arms they carried an unconscious armored man whose blond hair looked like spikes, as if he had been electrocuted.

“Darius!” Vincent cried, surprised and worried to see the soldier there of all places, and very much wounded to boot. He had practically reached them when he realized what the Mountaineers carrying his friend had asked for. “Are you a healer, lad?” one of the pair inquired with some suspicion, as Vincent looked more like the fighting type. 

Vincent stopped dead in his tracks and stood there awkwardly. “W-well, no, but he-“ he began to say, but he felt a hand on his shoulder and stopped. It was Kahleen. The shaman nodded to the two men carrying Darius and they placed him down on the ground face up without a word. Chanting softly and moving her hands, Kahleen summoned an amber glow that moved from her onto Darius’ body, healing some of his wounds in the span of a second. 

Darius opened his eyes and practically attempted to jump up as if to defend himself. When he saw the guards, Kahleen and Vincent, he relaxed, slumping back on the floor, exhaling a deep breath. “Rest” was all that the shaman instructed him.

Seeing that there wasn’t much to be done with the soldier of Seawall, Vincent nodded to himself and headed towards the temple. He heard the other guards drag a pair of bodies from the guild house as he left. 

Mountaineer Graybeard and four others were conversing with the priest, and Gon stood there mutely a couple of feet away, a forlorn look on his face. 

“Gon” Vincent called, as his first impulse was to talk to his companion. “What happened? Who is that bloodied man lying on the ground?” he asked. The usually cheerful man merely shook his head and sighed as a response. Since it looked like he wasn’t going to be talking much at the time, Vincent didn’t press the issue and turned to the conversing priest and guard. 

“I’m telling you, Mountaineer Graybeard, that this man isn’t who you are looking for” the priest was insisting, his hands moving about emphatically in Gon’s direction as he did. 

The dwarf snorted in return. “Ye jest, Han! I know ye’re nice to people an’ all, but this be too much; ye can’t just allow this man, this felon, to walk away without paying for what he did all those years ago!”. Wagging a finger in front of his face, Graybeard added, “That ain’t justice”.

Rolling his eyes, as if it was too obvious for him, the priest sighed. “Didn’t you hear my words, just now? By Berethor, if I’m saying this isn’t him, then it isn’t him! I have a long memory, Mountaineer Graybeard, and I most certainly would recognize one of my own order if he were to stand close to me”.   

Both dwarf and human stared at each other in silence, and after what seemed like an eternity the dwarf nodded, almost reluctantly, and began to move away. One barked order sent the Mountaineers close to him to start patrolling the area. 

Once the dwarf was out of ear shot, the priest appeared more relaxed. He was about to say something to Gon when he noticed Vincent, who had stood there listening intently. “What is it, young man?” the priest asked in a soft voice. He was over fifty years old, but clearly below seventy. Maybe somewhere in between, Vincent judged.

“Ah, yes, of course” the squire replied, not having expected the man’s attention so soon. “I am Vincent Ender, squire of House Kashtar, and my group and I have traveled from Seawall in a mission of importance to my House. This man-“ he gestured towards Gon with one gauntleted hand, “-is one member of the group, and thus I feel compelled to ask how he’s involved in this conflict that occurred here”.  

A small smile formed on the priest’s face. “House Kashtar, you say? You have my blessings, young squire; the House of Honor is more than an ally to the church of the God of Clarity. My name is Hantel Raft, although people call me Han more often than not” the man said in greeting. His face turned more serious when he was about to embark on the next topic. 

“There was a fight in the guild house involving members of a criminal group that has been pestering our fair town for ages” he explained, looking at the bound unconscious man that lay on the floor nearby.

“This one is Faren, one of the mages of the group. The town guard had had suspicions about his shady deals for a long time, but until now they didn’t have enough evidence to do anything about it. When they attacked Gon, and his friend, the blond soldier, they pretty much gave themselves over”.

“The blond one would be Darius, good priest” Vincent clarified for him.

“I see. In any case, the thieves were involved in many illegal transactions of items in Wellspring, which obviously caused its own fair share of troubles for all of us as we tried to prevent this from happening. Alas, the group won’t be fully weeded out, but your friend’s efforts certainly have caused improvements in the long run”. Hantel looked at Gon for a moment, as if to see if the man had heard his words of praise. 

Vincent glanced at the red-haired soldier as well. “Why did the group target him and Darius, though? And what were you saying earlier on about a member of your church, priest Hantel?”.

“Years ago, what seems like decades, there was a very loyal acolyte of Berethor living here in the temple with the rest of the order” Hantel explained, taking his time to pronounce each word with care. “The man was quite energetic, and people couldn’t help but feel more cheerful as well, contagious as his mood was. The temple needed funds for its projects, and needless to say Wellspring didn’t-and still doesn’t- have spare coin for even that. This acolyte, he… he struck deals with the group of rogues, in order to obtain this money for the temple”.

The squire looked blankly at the priest as he digested the information. After a moment, his expression turned to one of disbelief. “Surely you can’t be saying that-“ he said slowly, looking from Hantel to Gon and back to the aged priest, not willing to state out loud what he had just understood. 

“I’m afraid so” Hantel replied with a grave nod. “Gon was the acolyte that I’m speaking about. He left right after he and I had a-ahem-discussion with regards to his dealings with the shadowy group”. One glance at the soldier said it all, for he was pointedly looking away, arms folded across his chest. 

To say that Vincent was flabbergasted would have been an understatement. “I-I would never have known…” he mumbled. “I’m sure he kept the secret safe, like he always did with any other secrets of his” the priest said with a knowing tone.

Vincent was about to approach Gon when he heard a voice behind him calling his name.

“Vince! There you are!”.

It was Gilliam. The squire’s bodyguard approached at a light trot, looking relieved to see him in one piece. “Thanks goodness you’re here. I would’ve killed myself if you were one of the several bodies found in the guild house!” the man exclaimed. Just then, he noticed the awkward silence that his words generated. The mercenary offered a hand to the priest, and they exchanged greetings swiftly.

“What have I missed?” the mercenary inquired. Vincent patted him on the shoulder and moved him in the opposite direction of Gon. “Here, let me tell you what I just heard…” the elf said as they walked away. 

This left Hantel and Gon by themselves at the steps of the church. 

“Would you mind helping me carry Faren inside, acolyte?” Hantel bade Gon in a soft voice as he bent down to lift the mage’s body off the ground. Gon seemed startled by this request, but the soldier accepted wordlessly after a second.

Together, they started to carry the unconscious man inside the temple.

“Just like old times, yes?” Hantel inquired.

Gon did his best to look uninterested. “It will never be like old times, Seer Raft”.


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## Cerulean_Wings (Feb 12, 2008)

Third update in a row! Come on, CW, you can do this! 

Nothing much to say. Here you go, read away 


Chapter 25

*Spiritual guidance*

The night sky shone beautifully, illuminating the town and its inhabitants from above with the assistance of the moon. Five people, each mounted on a lizard, were making the final preparations to depart. The discovery of members of that shadowy group had lead to a deeper investigation, and the Mountaineer’s didn’t need any help with the matter; not that Gilliam would’ve permitted anyone from the group to intervene, as they were still wary of staying in one place for too long. After gathering the necessary provisions for the next trek of the journey, the quintet got together by the town’s eastern exit.

Not long ago Gilliam had taken Gon to the side in order to have a stern talk with him. The firm scolding took five minutes, in which the mercenary explained in no uncertain terms how he despised subterfuge, robbery and deceit, even if it all was for the sake of the group.

Darius’ wounds were taken care of with the help of Kahleen and Hantel; their combined healing powers erasing all traces of the injuries save for grayish scars that would remain in his body as proof of his hardships. Gon was hurt as well, if only slightly, but the he had refused any treatment offered by either priest or shaman for reasons that were his own. 

“That’s all of us” Gilliam concluded after performing a quick head count. The mercenary was slightly nervous at the idea of riding a lizard, instead of a typical horse, but the Mountaineers had reassured him time and time again that the reptiles were perfectly tame and they would actually respond better in tense moments than a horse. “How do you make these things move?” he wondered out loud, glancing at the lizard’s head from the saddle, as if expecting it to reply. 

The mounts had been granted to them as a gesture of appreciation from Mountaineer Graybeard, partly for the help with finding the rogue group in town, and partly for the gravity of the group’s mission.

“Hold, estimated travelers” came a familiar voice from behind. It was Hantel, walking swiftly towards the group. He wasn’t wearing his priestly garments; instead, the old man carried an old suit of chain mail, which didn’t look like he had used in ages, on top of normal clothes. To permit his increased walking speed, Hantel used a long wooden staff as a support with his left hand.

While Gon looked away, Kahleen glanced at the priest quizzically. “What brings you to us before our departure, Seer Raft?” she inquired. The priest stopped near the five and craned his neck to better face the shaman. “Why, to pass the blessings and wisdom of the Pure One onto you, brave folks” he replied in an equally serene tone.

“A blessing for our journey?” Vincent asked, sounding slightly suspicious. Hantel nodded. “Indeed. I believe you will need all the help you can muster for your task”.

“You’re coming with us, aren’t you?” Gilliam said with a knowing half-smile on his face. Hantel’s eyes glinted with what could’ve been mischief, and the old human nodded slowly.

“No objections, I hope”.

Gilliam looked at the others, only if to measure their reactions. The only one clearly not looking very enthused with the priest’s offer was Gon, obviously, but Gilliam didn’t pay any heed to that, as he understood the nature of the soldier’s discontent.

“You may join us, Seer Raft. Your divine magic is more than welcome in this group” the mercenary informed him.

“Please, call me Hantel, or Han” the priest replied graciously. He looked at the five, clearly expecting something, and it was Kahleen who extended her hand from her saddle to help Hantel climb up on her mount. If the lizard found the added weight an annoyance, it didn’t show it.

“You’re pretty well equipped for a follower of Berethor, whom I understood to be a peaceful deity” Vincent remarked. Hantel shrugged helplessly. “I’m afraid that conflicts aren’t always possible to avoid, squire Vincent, and thus I must protect myself in case it comes to blows”. 

The squire seemed satisfied and nodded in understanding. This left the matter of actually getting their exotic mounts to move. Five pair of eyes were focused on the one woman in the group, hoping she would provide a magic word to control the lizards.

Instead of doing just that, Kahleen gave a slight tug of the reins and her mount commenced to move forward. Gilliam, Darius and Vincent stared blankly as the worldly wisdom of the shaman hadn’t been imparted on them.

Gon imitated Kahleen, and his mount followed his command as well. After a few seconds the trance broke, and the other three did as well, not wanting to remain behind. 

“That’s it?” Gilliam mouthed in disbelief. 

Vincent shook his head, no less surprised, while Darius remained rather somber. After the battle in the guild house, the soldier had remained quieter than he usually was. No one had inquired as to why that was; it was Gilliam who had hinted that he knew why this was happening.

“Hantel Raft” Vincent said to Gilliam in a low tone as they guided their mounts to where the others were heading, “I believe he’s here to do more than to grant us his assistance”. Gilliam looked at him, impressed, and nodded for him to go on.

“He’s here for Gon, too” the squire said. “He wishes to set him back in the path he abandoned”.

“So do I”.

There was a moment of silence as Vincent considered the unexpected answer from his bodyguard. “You want to change Gon as well?” he inquired, sounding surprised.

But Gilliam shook his head in denial. “No, not Gon” he corrected. The mercenary tilted his head towards Darius. “Him. I wish to set him in the path that I had abandoned”.

“A knight’s path” Vincent stated rather than asked. This made Gilliam’s eyebrow rise. “You know then that I wasn’t really part of the Battle Forged?” the mercenary asked.

“I realized it on my own, with all the inspiring things you’ve been saying since I’ve met you. Especially what you said to him, back in the cave” Vincent responded in an even voice that didn’t sound accusing. This seemed to relieve Gilliam a little bit. 

“What knightly order were you part of, Gil?” Vincent asked suddenly. 

Gilliam turned his head to face the valley ahead of them once more. “We should better hurry and get ahead of the rest, Vince; it’d be foolish to allow the less protected members of the group to remain unprotected at the front” he replied in a business-like tone right before instructing his mount to speed up.

Vincent followed suit, and didn’t say another word on the matter. Some things took time, he figured. The thought was rather refreshing. 

Ahead, the valley extended for what seemed like an eternity of barren rock. At the end was the next step of the journey towards the Frostfell Mountains, the Spirit Wood. And the only one with possible insight of that place was Kahleen.


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## Ethelin (Feb 14, 2008)

*No battle, just as much entertainment*

Even though in this last post there wasn't any battle, or anything really exciting, it still was interesting and captivating. I find it amazing how you managed to capture me, and probably other readers, into you're realistic fantasy (if that makes any sense at all).


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## Cerulean_Wings (Feb 14, 2008)

Ethelin said:
			
		

> Even though in this last post there wasn't any battle, or anything really exciting, it still was interesting and captivating. I find it amazing how you managed to capture me, and probably other readers, into you're realistic fantasy (if that makes any sense at all).




Thank you for the praise, Ethelin. It's tough making things interesting without combat, true, but that's the challenge for story hour writing, after all. Story hours that have more combat aren't necessarily better or worse, but it's less tough to keep things moving, certainly   

Your comment is the type that I've been waiting for for some time, since I have little detailed feedback in this thread. Not saying I'm waiting for the praise posts to come in an avalanche, but rather I'm hoping for more and more people to let me know what they think, good or bad, about the story hour.

In any case, I'll be taking a break from typing chapters once per day. I'm getting writer's block, and I have stuff to do for my real life campaign. We'll see when this goes on.


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## Cerulean_Wings (Feb 15, 2008)

Rogue's Gallery will be updated shortly. Or should I say, the _Priest's_ Gallery?   



Chapter 26

*Haunted grounds*

Their journey from Wellspring towards the end of the valley had been rather uneventful, a change of pace that none in the group disliked. During the ride to the north east, the priest of Berethor had spent most of his time conversing with Gon, or at least, he had attempted to, for the soldier remained as silent and somber as before.

Darius wasn’t in a different mood, probably for different reasons, and his demeanor was dark and serious to the extreme. Kahleen had several small talks with the man, but her words didn’t improve his mood like they had in the past. Seeing this, the shaman wisely decided to leave it up to Darius to change his behavior. Gilliam and Vincent didn’t say a word on the matter, likewise choosing to leave it to the two soldiers to switch back to their usual selves.

This situation made Gilliam consider, if only as a demented thought, if he preferred Gon cheery and wild over his present mood. In the end, the mercenary concluded he didn’t really like either. Would it be possible for Gon to reach a healthy balance in that sense? Only time would tell.

It took four days to traverse the remaining length of the valley and the hills that came afterwards. The lizards they rode behaved excellently, as promised, especially for Vincent, who had had training in his early years with House Kashtar (although said training had been with horses, the basics applied just the same for the more exotic mounts), and there were no incidents of them running away or misbehaving. The reptiles were more used to the canyon’s landscape than the hills that came after, however, and that part of the journey took more than they expected.

By the end of the fourth day the six were right in front of the large, tall trees that formed part of the Spirit Wood. The place was the stuff of legends, a place that countless bards had woven countless tales based on its dangers, both real and imaginary. Very few had braved the forest and made it out without showing signs of stress, paranoia, or some other malady. Mist filled every space in-between the trees, obscuring the sight of the forest somewhat, but not completely. Combined with the darkness of the early night, the woods were a rather imposing sight.

Since the lizard mounts weren’t going to be effective in this type of terrain, they had agreed to travel through the forest on foot. Not surprisingly, Kahleen had what seemed like a talk with their mounts, using alien slithering and hissing sounds to instruct the lizards on what to do. The five lizards left the group, then, heading back in the direction they had come from. 

“This is it” Gilliam muttered. His hands were clenched shut, and the knuckles beneath the gloves were white. Vincent looked no less troubled, as the squire’s lip trembled every now and then.

Darius and Gon looked too distant to care for the wood’s mystical appearance, while Hantel and Kahleen appeared as serene as ever.

“Has anyone ever been into this place?” Hantel inquired to the others. 

“I have” Kahleen answered simply. “What do you wish to know, Hantel?”.

The priest merely shrugged, as if he wasn’t curious. “Nothing in particular. I simply wish to know if we have a guide amongst us for this part of the journey”. 

“There are dangers to these woods, that much you all know” the shaman said, making Vincent and Gilliam nod vigorously in unison. “But most of them are rumors, stories coming from people who allowed their imaginations to seize control of their perceptions” she went on without noticing their trepidation. 

“I wonder if the place makes one get lost, returning to the same spot every time” Vincent said shakily as he glanced at Gilliam. 

“What if the woods make one’s inner fears manifest, forcing us to battle them as ghosts?” the mercenary returned, sounding no less troubled, but trying hard to make it look otherwise. 

“How about we go in and see for ourselves?”.

Squire and mercenary turned around to look at Gon, who had spoken the words in a tired, dry tone. The roguish man had a bored expression on his face, another anomaly, coming from him. 

“Now _that’s_ a good idea!” praised Hantel with a snap of his fingers, smiling at Gon as he did. “Instead of imagining illusory threats, let us deal with the real ones once they come to us”. This didn’t improve the soldier’s mood, and he merely looked away.

Gilliam took a deep breath in order to better steady himself. “True enough; we can’t waste time here” he admitted. “Kahleen, is there anything we should know before we make it inside?”.

“Beware the spirits of the Spirit Wood” she replied in a serious tone. “If you get too close to them, your essence might draw them to you, and conflict might ensue”. If Kahleen was intending to reassure the two nervous warriors about the place, she had failed miserably.

“Staying close to each other is a good idea” Vincent suggested. “We don’t want to get lost in that mist, right Darius?” he said, finishing the sentence by looking the blond warrior’s way.

Darius wasn’t there.

Vincent blinked, confused, and looked at the others for an explanation. Gon gave him one in the form of gesturing forward with an arm. The squire turned that way to see the other soldier’s form walking into the forest, already difficult to see after barely walking fifteen feet away.

“Let’s go” Gilliam ordered, and as one the rest of the group entered the woods to join Darius.


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## Cerulean_Wings (Feb 17, 2008)

Curses. I _was_ typing up today's chapter, but guess what? The pc got taken away for repairs, and I'm out of luck, typing this from a friend's laptop. There probably won't be a chapter until Monday. Man, I miss writing already...


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## Cerulean_Wings (Feb 18, 2008)

I got the pc back earlier, and it's good as new! Which means a new chapter 

Sorry about the title, I _couldn't_ help it.


Chapter 27

*Ghosts and goblins*

Once within the Spirit Wood, everyone quickly realized it was going to be hard to keep track of time: the wood's mist was thick in all directions, even above their heads, preventing them from seeing the sky or the sun, its golden rays simply not reaching past the mist. A decrease of luminosity would mean that the day was waning, but they would not be able to tell when that was going to happen. 

Timing their rest breaks was going to depend on how tired they felt, then. So far, they had rested once, and the experience had left the whole group rather tense instead of relaxed. Judging by the cycle of disappearing and reappearing light, a day had passed since they entered the forest. 

More than once the group encountered something moving through the bushes, and instead of being some manner of revenant or ghostly apparition, it turned out to be no more than a small forest animal, like a squirrel. Needless to say, Gilliam's jumpiness combined with his throwing knives resulted in several dead animals along their path.

“You should try to steady yourself, Gilliam” Kahleen suggested, not for the first-or last-time. The shaman had not taken any offense at the mercenary for killing so many innocent and harmless animals due to his nervousness, or at least she did not show it. “When a real threat comes, you must be ready in spirit and body to face it properly”.

Gilliam took a deep breath and shuddered. “Easier said than done. This place...” he said as he looked around, “...it gives me the chills. I cannot help but be on edge all the time”.

“Likewise” added Vincent. The squire was no less nervous than his bodyguard, but at least he was not throwing his spear in every direction he thought he saw a threat. The rest of the group did not look very anxious within the Spirit Wood, but that might have been attributed to their mood, and in the case of Hantel, his beliefs. 

“You two seem to be braving this place well enough” the Seer assessed in the direction of Gon and Darius. “Maybe you should go ahead of Gilliam, in order to act as more relaxed scouts?”. This made Gilliam stop walking and turn around quickly. Everyone likewise stopped their march.

“No, we are not changing the marching order. If something comes from the front, I'll handle it; if it's from behind, Gon and Darius can face it properly” Gilliam said in a firm tone. The two soldiers did not stir at any of the words that had been said, however, and looked as detached as ever.

“Darius”.

The blond warrior looked up, for he had been gazing at a patch of grass beneath his feet. Kahleen had called his name. “We need you focused on the path ahead, not on the path beneath. If we were attacked right now, would you be able to defend us?” she asked.

“Of course not. I cannot even defend myself, how in the Hells am I going to defend others?” the soldier replied with a tone that sounded more angry and serious that he usually used. 

“You have done a fair job so far, judging from the survival rate of our group” Vincent observed. Darius shook his head and mumbled something that he couldn't make out. “If you do not stay focused, then the next thing that comes after us will definitely slay us all. We need that extra sword arm, Darius” Vincent added.

This time, Darius stared at the squire for a moment before nodding slowly and changing his posture to a more active one. Vincent smiled and changed targets to Gon.

“What about you, Gon? Can we count on you to defend us from behind, as well?” the squire inquired, still smiling. Gon's visage was one of a man who did not have qualms about jumping off a bridge. “Sure, why not” he replied in a tired voice, waving the issue away with one hand. Like Darius, Gon assumed a more active posture, looking out for enemies around. The only reason they had him on the back, rather than scouting ahead, was that the mist could prove fatal at the time of reuniting with him.

“Aah, they have finally seen the light of clarity. Good, very good” Hantel said almost to himself, nodding to Vincent in approval. 

Now more concentrated on their respective duties, the six resumed walking. The mist around them did not seem affected by their change of attitude, and the area remained as eery as ever. Strange sounds would be heard every now and then, and those ones were clearly not being created from a normal, living being. 

For how long they had traveled, none of the group could really tell. Eventually, when it was still relatively bright, Hantel got interrupted in the middle of a saying from his faith due to a high pitched scream coming from ahead. Everyone tensed, as the scream sounded otherworldly to say the least. In an instant, everyone had their weapons at the ready, including Hantel, who braced his sturdy staff with his two thin hands. 

“Stay alert. Do not move from this spot, wait for it to come to us. If you throw your spear, you will lose it in the mist” the mercenary quickly instructed, the last remark directed of course at the elf fighter, who silently changed his throwing stance to a melee posture. 

While they waited, the screech intensified, indicating that its source was approaching rapidly. They could not see anything, thanks to the mist, and for all they knew the creature was merely twenty feet away, obscured by the fog. Hantel had not remained idle, however, and the Seer of Berethor chanted in a deep, yet calm way, filling the others with a sense of peace. 

“Shield of Clarity, hide our sight from those of the Nether realm” Hantel implored at the end of his prayer. No one felt any different when the spell was done, but Hantel looked satisfied by the result. “Spirits and other undead will not be able to see us” he informed them.

The priest's devotion was put to test, for one such unliving being emerged from the mist at full speed, making a bee line for the group. It was half of a humanoid, from the waist up, made of translucent greenish substance, floating swiftly two feet above the ground. Its features were that of a skeleton, with bony hands stretched forward, reaching for Gilliam, who was ahead of the group..

“Priest, I do not doubt in your deity's power, but that thing is coming straight for us” Gilliam said in a low voice as he crouched low, bracing himself for impact, swords ready at the sides of his body. The mercenary's observation was fairly accurate: the ghostly apparition was clearly aiming for him, its mouth open wide in a skeletal smile of glee.

An arrow shot past Gilliam from behind, aimed for the ghost, but it merely passed through it. Kahleen's aim had been true, but the thing's substance was less than solid. The spirit was not stopped for a moment, and it carried on, screeching in an otherworldly fashion. Seeing that it was up to him to stop it, Gilliam performed a twin slash right before it reached him.

Both adamantine swords cut through nothing but air. 

Gilliam's eyes widened in horror, preparing his body and mind for the worst. Yet for all his fears of what it would feel to have a ghost touch him, the mercenary felt nothing at all. He blinked, realizing the thing was not in front of him anymore, so quickly it had passed through his form. Looking back over his shoulder, he saw the spirit doing the same with the others, going through them, causing no harm whatsoever.

“What” he whispered, almost disappointed at the anti-climatic feel of the ghost. Was that really all to it? The others were slightly shaken as well, and no one showed signs of more than fear. After passing through Gon, the spirit continued heading in that direction, performing its haunting shout moan as it did.

What the six failed to notice was the small figures approaching them from multiple directions at once, using the mist and trees as cover, with the spirit's screech as a distraction for their already light footsteps. The attack came from everywhere, several of these small yet deadly creatures charging forward at the six, screaming like awakened undead, all too ready to destroy those who invaded their place of rest.

Two of the creatures came at Gilliam, each from opposite sides. They looked like halflings, except that normal halflings did not have snow-white bones without skin, red eyes, and looked like they had just emerged from their graves, their leather armor resembling tattered rags. Each carried a worn battle axe in their two bony hands, too big for them to wield with just one, and they jumped in unison at Gilliam as they swung them horizontally. 

Surprised as he was, the mercenary couldn't possibly lift his blades in time, and his magical chain shirt protected him from only one axe, as the other one bit hard onto his chest. The undead critters were small, but Gilliam realized that they were stronger than they looked. 

Another pair charged after Vincent, from opposite ways as well, and while the squire was by no means ready to receive them, his armor did the work for him, as the two axes failed to pierce through his mighty full plate. 

Darius had had no time to focus his defense as much as he would have liked to, but he had stayed in a strictly defensive position since the spirit had appeared. The small bony monster hacked at him with a wild swing, which was then parried by Darius' blade. With one undead assaulting him from the front, Darius did not notice the second one coming from behind. His indication that he had another enemy came in the form of searing pain from his back from the other undead's weapon. 

The shaman was in dire straits, with no weapon other than her bow to fend off her attackers. A pair of the critters charged after her, side by side, and both slashes from the battle axes connected solidly, ripping parts of her lizard hide armor away, blood beginning to coat the grass beneath her feet. Kahleen took a quick breath to steady herself, only to find out it was suddenly very hard to do so. 

At the very same time that the shaman was attacked, Hantel found himself in a no less difficult position. It seemed like the undead came in pairs after each one of them, and these two targeted the old priest with a disregard for his age, or rather, noticing his inability to fight back as well as the rest. Two battle axes swung in the air, and two long cuts formed on Hantel's body, the chain mail's links broken where they had struck. 

“My spell” Hantel gasped in pain. “How could this be?”.  

But not everyone was caught completely unawares. Gon, who had honed his lightning quick reflexes in his past training, positioned himself to face two of the monsters that were coming from him. Gon turned a decapitating strike into a small gash on his face as he sidestepped, and the second creature tripped on a branch that was on its way, making the axe's swing go wild and off target. Its balance lost, Gon didn't hesitate, stepping forward and punching through the monster with his longsword, the blade's tip emerging from its back after the attack was completed.

Upon retracting the blade, Gon noticed something curious in it. “I thought that undead didn't have blood” he commented, losing his focus of the battle for a brief instant. His sword was coated in red after slaying the supposedly undead monster, and this confused the soldier. Gon looked at the other bone-white creature that attacked him, squinting his eyes, which widened a moment later after his analysis was complete. 

Gilliam could have dispatched both undead with him in the span of six seconds, of that he was sure, but the sounds of pain coming from behind, especially those of the healers, made him change tactics in a flash. 

“Protect Han and Kahleen!” he shouted as he began to run towards them. The undead duo that was flaking him didn't feel like letting him go easily, and both attacked the departing mercenary. Their axes barely clipped Gilliam's cloak as he ran past them at an incredible speed, his training at moving quickly through the battlefield paying off very well. 

Hearing the command, Vincent moved his body to face Hantel, who was lifting his staff in a feeble attempt to block more slashing attacks from the undead. The squire charged at one, forgetting all about the two harassing him, but was given a painful reminder about their existence when one's axe managed to find a gap in his greave, almost making him topple over from the loss of balance and sudden pain.     

Hantel Raft was merely five feet away, but Vincent had to put a great deal of effort to get one of his legs to move forward the remaining distance. He stabbed at the undead that was looking away from him, and the spear's sharp tip penetrated the monster's skeleton just fine by the spinal cord. Curiously enough, severing that connection did put the monster to sleep permanently, although Vincent did not expect that from a supposedly unliving creature. 

“My thanks, Vincent” Hantel said in return for the assistance. However, the other small menace was still there, not taking its crimson eyes off the priest, and slashed at him once again, as the old man had no possible defense other than his chainmail. It did not count on Gilliam's bastard sword decapitating his head from behind as the mercenary reached the priest just in time. 

“Can you not chase them away with divine energies, Han?” Gilliam asked, placing himself right by Hantel in order to keep the priest safe from further attacks. 

“I am afraid that these beings might not be undead after all” the priest returned cryptically, and Gilliam did not have time to ponder on its meaning, but he did not need to: copious amounts of red liquid were emerging from the beheaded monster. The two 'undead' he had abandoned had reached him, eager to finish what they were all-too intent on doing with him, along with the other two from Vincent. Stopping one of them was doable, but the second one could potentially slip past them and reach the already wounded priest. 

“Heal Kahleen, I will distract them!” Darius told Gon hurriedly as they rushed after the shaman, barely ten feet away from them. Darius had dispatched the 'undead' with him with a wide swing of his sword and the added brawn from his belt, and Gon had finished his by performing a quick feint, followed by a devastating thrust. 

“Fine” the roguish soldier replied, as if he was given a disgusting chore to perform. While Darius charged at the two 'undead', Gon jumped above them with ease, twisting in mid-air to avoid their attacks, landing right next to Kahleen just as Darius attempted to hack at one of the 'undead', and missed. 

Kahleen was sporting two nasty wounds on her chest and arms, but she seemed to be able to remain on her feet for the time being. Gon began to draw the slender healing wand from his belt just as he watched the two 'undead' assault her once more. It all seemed to happen in slow-motion: Kahleen batting away one axe blade with her bow in a desperate maneuver. She ended up with Blood Moon below her waist, resulting in her inability to block the next attack from the other undead's companion. 

Blood spurted from the new, deep injury on her body, and Kahleen had to lean against Gon in order to avoid losing her balance and remain standing. Without wasting another second, Gon jabbed the shaman on the ribs with the wand as he activated the wand's power to heal her.

Nothing happened. The soldier stared at it in disbelief, positively sure that it was still charged with essence. He realized then that he missed a small but crucial step in the activation, hurried as he was in the heat of the battle.

To make matters worse, sounds of more of these small bony monsters began to emerge from the nearby woods.


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## Cerulean_Wings (Feb 19, 2008)

Chapter 28

*Rage*

Gilliam could not be certain, but he heard at the very least eight more of these goblins-for that was what they were in actuality-coming from two directions at the group. It certainly did not help that one of the casters was grievously wounded, with the addition of the other one having received his fair share of slashes from the skeletal goblins. 

“Gon, Darius, shield Kahleen; we will protect Han!” he shouted, or rather, tried to, for his voice died as soon as he realized that the world around him was beginning to fill with darkness, enveloping everything in sight, including his allies. Desperate, the mercenary looked around for the source of this strange occurrence, but failed to find it. 

And then he saw that which brought forth his deepest fears and doubts right in front of him, making him collapse to the ground, screaming at the top of his lungs like a madman. Barely five feet away from him, Vincent turned his head to glance at his bodyguard, not understanding why he was acting like that.

“Gilliam, what’s wrong with you?” he asked, trying to keep his tone as calm as possible in their current predicament. Since the response came in further screams of desperation from the man, Vincent steeled himself for what was about to come: four of the goblins, since the two with Gilliam did not see any reason to bother with him. The squire felt a gentle pat on his back, indicating that Hantel required his attention.

“Look after Gilliam, good squire; I shall take care of myself and the others” Hantel informed him before he began to pray for a spell. How the Seer intended to do so, only the Gods actually knew, and Vincent sidestepped in order to stand next to Gilliam. “The roles are reversed, for once” the squire muttered to himself as he assumed an exclusively defensive posture. 

The four goblins came at him in pairs, forming a cross around him, each equally eager on spilling some elven blood in that very instant. A quartet of crude axes sliced the air in unison, and as one they were repelled by a combination of Vincent’s full plate armor, his shield, and finally, his protective ring, causing some blows to deviate from target in the last second. 

Such luck would only last for so long for the squire.

“Keep them off of me; I can’t possibly fight with Kahleen at the verge of collapse!”  Darius bade Gon just as a goblin axe struck true and bit onto his unprotected leg. He tried retaliating, but the blow was easily dodged, as the soldier’s efforts were put into protecting himself and the shaman instead of killing the goblins. 

Gon was having a slightly harder time with the current goblinoid than with the ones he had dispatched mere seconds ago. Instead of falling for the soldier’s quick feint, the creature ignored it and blocked the long sword that came after it just fine, sneering at him in defiance. 

“No can do, Broken Blade; this one is smarter than the others” Gon replied almost casually. “Or should I say, less stupid?” he added as an afterthought. As if the goblin could understand his remark, it suddenly leapt forward, chopping down with the axe at full speed. Sidestepping was all Gon could do to avoid losing a leg in the process, getting a nasty injury on the limb instead. 

“Well, great” the now-chastised Gon said dryly. 

Kahleen felt like her life force was being drained away, and in fact it was exactly the case, for her wounds oozed with blood in a constant flow. She was bracing Blood Moon with one hand, using the other one to get a firm hold of Darius in order to stay upright. All that discomfort went away as a sudden surge of soothing relief entered her body from behind.

From one instant to the next, Gilliam opened his eyes as he came back to reality. What had seemed to him like an eternity of pain had been no more than five seconds in actuality, and the only change he noticed was Vincent standing in guard next to him surrounded by four goblins. The trauma of seeing his dead wife had weakened his spirit, and nearly killed his body from the shock, but he had resisted it. Gilliam’s emotions now went from fear to annoyance and from annoyance to anger. Anger at the goblins that surrounded his protégé, at whomever it was that had assaulted his mind with that vile magic. 

_You must never surrender your mind to senseless rage, squire _ his teacher had instructed him.

_Why? With such a powerful emotion, one can beat any enemy; slay any foe _ he had replied with determination.

But his teacher had shaken his head at this. _Not always is such feeling a boon, squire Araby. It may drive you away from your one true goal: defending your cause, or the person you must defend at the time. Such behavior is not proper for a knight, and may as well be the end of your purpose, if not your life. _ 

The words, said to him many years ago, were still fresh in his mind, yet Gilliam saw them as more the reason to go against them. In the span of a second, he was back on his feet besides Vincent, both swords in hand. He did not realize it, but he was screaming again. Although this time it was not from fear, but pure unbridled rage. Where a mercenary had once stood, the spot was taken by an unstoppable killing machine.

“Your miserable lives end here and now” he promised the goblins in a voice that gave the four of them pause. They were usually fearless beings, inspiring terror in their enemies through their resemblance to undead, but this human seemed different from any other they had encountered. 

Gilliam began to move his arms in a blur without warning, and within the span of four seconds, the goblins surrounding him and Vincent dropped to the floor, dead, each sporting a gruesome cut on their small bodies. It had taken him exactly one second to perform each killing slash. 

Just as this happened, the new wave of goblins came at them, hooting and screeching with abandon. There was about nine of the monsters, each carrying a battle axe like the current ones did.   

For the mercenary, absorbed in his raging state, they only appeared as more meat to grind into little pieces. Still, he was not invincible by any means, Vincent knew this much, and he decided to stay with Gilliam in order to take away some blows from him. 

With a roar that rivaled and even surpassed that of the incoming goblins altogether, Gilliam charged, followed by Vincent, who was forced to strain himself in order to keep up. 

“I’ve never seen you like this, Gil” Vincent commented, but his bodyguard did not seem in the state of mind to process, let alone answer the words. 

 Yet more goblins emerged from the opposite side of the mist. Eleven of the creatures dashed after the rest of the group, and they were lead by the wailing spirit that had passed by earlier. 

“Ignore the apparition, it’s not real” Kahleen said, seeing the supposed ghost for what it was in reality, a figment created by magic. By who’s magic, the shaman could only theorize. And true enough, the ghost went through them once more, dealing no harm whatsoever.

Seeing that she was as good as new, Darius skewed defense for an all-out attack against the goblin that was assaulting him, eviscerating the small bony thing with a quick sword strike. Gon did as well, managing to successfully catch his opponent off-guard and piercing its neck with his blade. 

This gave them a few seconds respite to receive the incoming goblin squad, desiring more than ever to slaughter them due to the death of their comrades. Kahleen was well enough to fire arrows at them, but as if inspired by Gilliam’s savage display, the shaman summoned her inner magic to surround her figure, changing to that of a brown bear after a soft green aura surrounded her. Unfortunately for them, the goblins were too filled with raw emotions to consider the threat of the shape shifted woman. 

The eleven goblins went down to nine as Kahleen mauled the first two to reach her, and those nine turned into seven just as the soldiers combined their blades to end an additional pair of the monsters. 

Their turn to strike back had come after the initial welcome, and the goblins proved to make up for their lack of toughness with their fierce strength. Kahleen received two telling axe hits, and for all the toughness of her bear hide, the attacks managed to undo part of the healing that Hantel had done. Still, with her new shape, she had obtained the endurance of an actual bear, making it easier for her to withstand injuries. 

Darius had expected the goblin that came for him, and the small monster could not bypass the soldier’s perfect parry. He thought everything was under control, and was proven wrong with Gon calling for help. The other soldier was placed five feet from him, and he was being flanked by two goblins. 

“I can’t be expected to deal with this in a regular basis” Gon was cursing as he avoided an incoming axe blade, then turning around swiftly out of instinct in order to block the other one from behind. 

Nothing could be done about the remaining two goblins, their faces showing wicked smiles that promised pain to the priest, who merely stood a couple of feet behind the others. Surprisingly enough, Hantel kept a serene composure even in the face of death, and the goblins discovered that the old man had a reason: when they were but at arm’s length from him, they found that for the life of them they could not will themselves to attack Hantel.

“Berethor’s sanctuary will keep me away from your axes, foul ones” the Seer informed them, unaware if they could understand him or not. Almost methodically, Hantel walked past the two goblins and started to invoke a prayer of healing onto Kahleen’s furry body. To say the goblins were angered by this was an understatement. 

Hantel’s prayer turned into a yelp of pain as a huge black and red centipede manifested itself from the mist and clamped its sharp pincers on his neck, threatening to rip it wide open. The priest’s condition went from slightly hurt to seriously injured with the vermin’s attack, and he could very well feel its poison seeping away his ability to coordinate his body. 

“Lord of Clarity, help me” he begged weakly, just as the monstrous centipede reared back for another assault that would definitely be the end of him.


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## Megapurrr (Feb 20, 2008)

The fighting scenes are definitely improving. I really liked how you descrived how Gilliam's fear turned to rage, and turned him into a killing berserker; it gave us a little more background on why he stopped being a knight...
Perhaps the battle scene became a little long when descriving each blow, but stopping it in the middle made a good cliffhanger.
I can't wait for the next one!

MP


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## Cerulean_Wings (Feb 21, 2008)

Thank you for your opinion on the matter, Megapurr, it's highly valued and appreciated   

I'm glad you see improvements, since I can _feel_ I've made tweaks to battle scenes without really knowing what I did exactly.

With regards to the battle being a bit long since I took the time to describe certain attacks, would you care to give an example, so I have an idea of what you're referring to? I tried to keep each attack to a minimum, but if you feel they could be shorter (and still interesting) do tell


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## Cerulean_Wings (Feb 22, 2008)

Chapter 29

*The puppeteer*

Darius could not help but take a quick look behind in order to see what had happened to the priest. The sight of Hantel being bitten by the enormous devilish bug filled him with dread, since the scene reminded him all too well of Lazarus being slaughtered by a giant ape in the warehouse. Were all agents of Berethor that accompanied them destined to die in the hands of a monster that came out of nowhere?

In her animal form, Kahleen roared as she turned in the opposite direction of the goblins that were hacking at her, performing a mad charge against the huge centipede. She swiped at its red and black hide just before it was able to land a blow upon the weakened Hantel, opening three parallel slashes on it. The priest visibly relaxed once he saw that this was not his end, for the devilish vermin switched targets from him to the bear. While the centipede had managed to muster the force of will to go through the magic of his sanctuary, the other goblins were still unable to do so.

The blond soldier witnessed all of this in that quick glance, but that one second of distraction allowed the goblin to take careful aim and slash at his exposed leg, causing Darius to yelp in pain as his attention got drawn back to his opponent. By now he was beginning to feel weakened for all the hits he had taken. 

“I survived a giant’s attack, I’m _not_ going down here” he swore vehemently as he counter attacked with a vicious slash of his own. A moment later, the goblin’s body fell to the floor, limp, and its head did likewise afterwards.   

Now that he was free, he considered for a moment going after Gon, who was practically dancing in between two goblins in order to avoid their axes; another quick look at Kahleen and Hantel indicated that they were in worse circumstances, for the four goblins targeted the shape shifted shaman, who was already fighting the centipede. Without wasting another instant, Darius yelled fiercely while he ran to the aid of his companions. 

“That’s right, leave me alone, help the others” Gon said in a low voice, clearly not intending for his words to reach the soldier. Evading the two simultaneous attacks from the goblins was going to tire him in a short period of time, but he did not see how in the Hells he could possibly alter that, as he stayed on the defensive in order to avoid being cleaved in two. 

Just as the goblins began to hack at him once more, an idea struck him. Gon jumped up high in the air, timing the maneuver just right so that the pair of axes collided with each other on the spot where he had been. The resounding impact caused the perplexed goblinoids to lose their focus for a moment. This was exactly what Gon was counting on.  

“The game’s over, go visit your ancestors in the Nether realm” the roguish soldier informed the two as he landed back on the ground, his hands high in the air holding his sword right before it descended rapidly upon one goblin, cutting out its arm at the shoulder. The result was a prone thrashing goblin, bleeding to death. Its friend did not seem intimidated by the other’s eventual death, and it attempted another strike at Gon. He turned around, deflected the axe head and swept one leg by the ground, effectively taking the goblin’s legs secure footing.

Once the small creature fell onto the grass, it took an almost methodical downward thrust from Gon to finish it. 

No more than thirty feet away, Gilliam Araby was wrecking the goblin squad as if he had turned into an entity of retribution, with his adamantine blades mowing about in a blur, so fast they were moving. The goblins had attempted to surround him and Vincent, but they quickly realized that the former was able to drop one of their kin with each brutal slash of a blade, and Gilliam could pull off four of those for each one of their attacks. When the eleven goblins were turned to seven due to Gilliam’s swords, the remaining ones displayed an uncharacteristic show of intelligence, jumping back several feet from the enraged mercenary. 

“You’re not living this place alive” Gilliam promised grimly, charging with abandon at the supposedly retreating goblins. In his fit of anger, he did not notice what they were intending to do. Vincent did, but as he tried to warn him, it was already too late.

“Gil, NO!” the squire called desperately as Gilliam stepped into the trap. He was able to slash at one goblin as he reached them, but the creature managed to dodge the attack. The retribution from the goblins came swiftly and as mercilessly as Gilliam’s earlier kills. Five goblins stepped forward, forming a tight semi-circle around him, and each one had been holding back their axes until that moment. 

A quintet of goblin weapons scythed the air between them and the human, just as their owners screamed like awakened demons. Rusty, yet sharp iron crunched on mithral links, and three sections of the armor gave to the pressure, permitting the axes to continue their movement into Gilliam’s skin and muscle. The mercenary cried out, but instead of weakening him, the attack seemed to have enraged him further. Covered in both goblin blood and his own, Gilliam gritted his teeth against the pain, unleashing four more devastating cuts at his enemies. 

Three of the four targets fell down, each sporting a vicious cut; the fourth one had been cunning enough to block the blade’s movement with his weapon. The survivor of the onslaught attempted another axe strike, seeing Gilliam severely injured, but a spear’s tip went right into its lung, piercing it and preventing it from drawing any more air. Vincent kicked the goblin in order to dislodge the spear, taking a step in front of his bodyguard. 

“Step aside, I can handle them” Gilliam insisted through gritted teeth to his protégé, his current physical state contradicting his claim. Vincent shook his head as he considered the remaining trio of goblins.

“I’m afraid you need to step back, Gil, if you are to survive the battle” Vincent said to him in an even tone. Before Gilliam could reply, the goblins charged at the armored elf, ignoring the fact that the others had fallen mere seconds ago. Even though he wished for this conflict to end without more bloodshed, Vincent resigned himself to facing off the remnants of the goblin force.

His keen elven ears perked up, then, as he could have sworn he heard strange chanting coming from the misty area ahead of them. Before he could even think of what was occurring, a sudden flash of fire appeared within the thick mist not far away from where he was at, and it began to travel after him at an impossibly fast speed. 

“Gah!” Vincent yelled in surprise as the source of this fire, a snake made entirely of raging flames, jumped at him, exploding upon impact in a brief rain of ashes and sparks. Vincent’s chest plate was left blackened, but he did not get hurt much thanks to his magical ring. There was a loud noise of a metal object colliding with his armor then, and he realized that the goblins had been unaffected by the fiery snake.  

Before he could complain, Gilliam darted past him, smiting the offending goblin with his sword, opening a gap in its neck from where its life went out. The last two goblins approached as well, and one met its end by Vincent’s spear as it went through its windpipe. 

Only then did the one remaining monster’s courage falter, and it turned around abruptly in order to make a hasty retreat. The goblin’s red eyes stared at the duo with hatred for a brief moment as it looked back while running away.   

Gilliam’s shoulders sagged as the rage and adrenaline played out, and he looked more tired than he usually did at the end of any battle. He looked around, almost at a loss, seeing all the goblin corpses lying on the floor, their lives taken for the most part by sword cuts. 

Recalling the rest of the group with a jolt, Vincent spun, only to see the other four alive, although some of them were worse for wear. Darius and Gon sported different sets of wounds, the former more serious by far, while Hantel looked like he was about to collapse, and the shaman had returned to her half-elven shape, looking very tired. There was no sign of the centipede, and the four goblins that had attacked the shaman were all dead, mostly from wounds that a bear would have caused.

“We helped with the centipede” Darius told the concerned squire as he approached them. The soldier was kneeling on the grass, using his sword as a support, giving him the look of a great knight who was swearing allegiance to his liege. “Kahleen smashed the goblins all by herself” he said, then glancing at Hantel. “The Seer kept pouring healing energies into her as she took hit after hit from all sides, even though he was in great peril during the battle”.

Meanwhile, Gon approached the grievously wounded priest wordlessly, wearing a distant expression. He pointed his healing wand at Hantel’s body, and summoned the item’s magic, which came out as a misty white glow that closed all priest’s wounds.

“Thank you, Gon” Hantel said in response to the much-needed healing. Rather than talking, the rogue merely nodded absently and walked towards Darius, doing the same thing with the soldier. 

“Much appreciated” the blond warrior said to Gon in earnest, although his counterpart did not seem to notice. Gon turned around and walked towards Vincent, who likewise thanked him after he used the wand of him, although it took two tries for it to work this time. Finally, he went for Gilliam, who was looking around the nearby area, as if expecting another ambush. After healing his wounds for the most part, Gon flicked the wand in his hand before snapping it in two.

“No more magic” he informed the rest as he threw the two halves to the ground. Hantel approached Gon and cast a minor healing spell on him, closing most of his injuries through a cerulean glow that emanated from the Seer’s hands. The soldier said a “Thanks” in a low voice.

Vincent ceased watching Gon and noticed Kahleen summoning an orange aura around her, although there was no visible change when it dissipated. “I have purged the centipede’s poison from my body” she explained calmly. “Hantel, may I…?” she inquired at the old priest, but he shook his head. “Nay, good woman, keep your magic for something more important than this; although fragile, my body will hold for now”.

“Let’s go”.

Everyone looked in the direction of the mercenary, who stood in one spot, swords drawn. He looked dead tired, but an iron determination shone in those gray orbs of his.

“What’s the hurry, boss? We got them good, now we can rest” Gon pointed out.

“No, we can’t rest now” Gilliam instantly retorted. “We need to find the source behind this ambush here and now”. Vincent’s eyes widened as he considered his words. The squire nodded slowly as he uttered a single word. 

“Ignus”. Gilliam indicated he was right with a nod of his own. This did not seem to relieve the rest in any way.

“Who is this Ignus that you speak of?” Hantel inquired with concern.

“A wizard of considerable power who tried, unsuccessfully so far, to kill us all” Darius explained to him. “His presence would explain the appearance of that huge centipede”. 

“He attacked me with some foul sorcery, and then launched a fire spell at Vincent. We need to put a stop to him now, now that he’s close-by and he’s by himself” Gilliam told the others with a tone of finality. 

Kahleen sighed as she considered their current situation. “Gilliam, you’re tired, very tired, and the rest of us aren’t much better” she said. But the mercenary simply shrugged, as if it did not matter. “Have you got enough healing magic, Hantel?” he asked. 

The priest considered this briefly. “Indeed, I do. Not much, however, since I used part of it during the battle, but enough for another one”. His voice and choice of words indicated how much he abhorred the idea of rushing into another bloody confrontation. 

“Then we go” Gilliam declared, turning around quickly and starting to walk at a brisk pace into the woods ahead. Everyone followed at length, each sharing looks of concerned as they did. Not one of them voiced any objections, for in the end Gilliam was right; to allow the mage to escape would mean further troubles down the road, which would likely be worse than what they had encountered so far. 

The six traveled close to each other, like they had done so far in their travels, mustering as much silence as they could. The Spirit Wood was as eerie and silent as ever, especially now that they were expecting something or someone to come out of the mist at every step. Every now and then, some of the group swore they heard strange invocations being spoken not far away.        

After what felt like an endless walk, but in actuality had been no more than a handful of minutes, Kahleen called for an abrupt halt. She began to summon essence in the shape of a red nimbus, centering it upon herself.

“What did you do?” Darius inquired in a voice that revealed how much tension he felt at the time.

“Conjured essence to protect myself” she replied in her usual serene tone. “From what?” pressed the soldier, not fully understanding.

The shaman gestured ahead of the group with a hand. “_Him_”.

A sound of hands clapping together emerged from twenty feet ahead of the six, its source now obvious. “Bravo, shaman, very perceptive of you” the invisible Ignus praised in earnest. “Pray tell, how did you notice my presence?”.

“Your feet, although invisible to the naked eye, still flatten the grass beneath you, and I can tell when it’s ‘normal’ or not” Kahleen replied without sounding proud at the least. 
An image of Ignus began to emerge from the mist, until it was merely ten feet from Gilliam, who was leading the group. Once more, the wizard’s appearance was one of a robed man without a head, but somehow managing to talk nonetheless.

“Seems like the giant didn’t do it” Ignus observed casually. “And so it seems like I’ll have to get my hands red with your blood if I’m to ever rid myself of you”.

Gilliam spat on the ground in response. “To the Hells with your condescension, mage, we’re here to end your tricks _once and for all_” he declared, although his words sounded less powerful with his tired tone.

“You’ll pay” Darius said. “For Lazarus, Janis and Mathias!” he finished by swinging his sword around for emphasis. Ignus merely laughed in return.

“Is this what your mission is all about? Vengeance? In any case, I say we move on from the pointless exchange of words and step right into the part when we blow you up into nothingness”.

“_We_?” Vincent asked in disbelief. He could not see or hear anyone else, but then he visibly paled as the wizard’s statement suddenly became very much possible. “Indeed. You get to meet my two apprentices, right before I sent you to the Nether” Ignus graciously informed them.

Two robed figures appeared to the sides of Ignus’ headless form, each placed at a respectful distance of ten feet from their mentor: a human male and an elven woman, both carrying runic wands in their hands. 

“You’re all smoke and mirrors, Ignus; your tricks don’t affect us anymore!” Gilliam shouted with resolution. His conviction was thrown to the four winds as the two supposedly illusory apprentices grasped ruby gems that hung from their necklaces, took aim, and threw them at the six.

They exploded at the same time like small supernovas, each generating an explosion equal to that of a _fireball_.


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## Cerulean_Wings (Feb 23, 2008)

Chapter 30

*Showdown*

Everyone in the group gasped and screamed as they attempted to avoid the worst of the explosions. Gilliam succeeded in rolling away from the flames in order to reduce the damage, and Gon practically jumped above them with perfect precision, getting his boots barely singed in the process as the only consequence. The rest did not fare so well, as Darius and Hantel were greatly burned by the explosion; Vincent and Kahleen were not able to dodge in time, but the squire’s ring and the shaman’s protective magic spared them from some burns. 

The smoke was clearing quickly, while the grass in a twenty foot radius remained blackened, and already the trio of arcane mystics was conjuring magic. Even to the warriors of the group it seemed as if they were all casting almost the exact same spell. Once they were done, the two apprentices vanished from sight, and Ignus did likewise a second later, for the illusionist added extra syllables to the spell. Everyone could hear the mage’s steps as he moved away from the others.     

“Can you do anything about _that_?” Gilliam asked the casters behind him. Hantel replied he could not, but Kahleen answered enigmatically that she “had something for such an eventuality”. Before anything else was done, both priest and shaman channeled their respective magic in order to ease some of the wounds from Darius and Vincent. 

Meanwhile, Gilliam charged after the human apprentice. “Gon, you’re with me” he informed the rogue as he ran forward. Gon did not hesitate and joined the mercenary in his assault. They reached the spot where the arcanist had been mere seconds ago and almost in unison they attacked in that direction. 

Neither Gilliam nor Gon’s attack struck anything but air. Darius and Vincent were attempting the same thing with the other apprentice, and their luck was just as bad. 

“How are we to defend ourselves if we can’t _see_ them?” Vincent asked in a slightly desperate tone, looking around the forest, hoping to have the answer make itself manifest out of thin air. His words were responded by further spellcasting from the three arcanists, but much to their relief the spells did not make any apparent change. 

“Sorry to keep you waiting, we’re just finishing our preparations to your demise” the disembodied voice of Ignus informed them from somewhere behind the two other mages. Hantel paid it no heed, as he was deep into spellcasting, summoning divine energies in order to heal all his wounds with an azure nimbus that covered him from top to bottom. 

The four warriors did not know how to proceed, for in front of them there was only misty air, and no more. The situation changed considerably when they felt the ground moving beneath their feet. Vincent yelped in surprise when he felt something grab at his ankle; roots were beginning to emerge from the grassy ground, grasping blindly at everyone situated in a wide radius. 

“Kahleen, what in the _Hells_ are you doing?” Gilliam demanded to know, his guess being correct about the phenomena being the shaman’s handiwork. “Keep your eyes forward, not downwards, and you will see” she replied calmly. 

The four stopped worrying about the groping roots for a moment, and only then did they notice them latching around what looked like empty air. “They can still be caught” Darius reasoned as he saw the roots that were attempting to twist around the invisible figure in front of him. 

No one needed much encouragement to strike at either mage. Darius’ sword cut only air once more, and Vincent’s spear did likewise even though they could get an approximation of the apprentice’s location now. Gilliam and Gon managed to land one solid blow each, but it did not feel to them like they had hurt the magi much, as little blood dropped from its still invisible owner. 

In reaction to being hit, the apprentice cast a spell, making the air shimmer around where he was located, but no more. His female companion’s outline became visible once more when she raised her slender wand with an amber tip, aiming for Darius. A word of power was spoken, and one flaming serpent emerged from its tip, hissing and spitting fire at the blond soldier as it launched itself towards him. Darius could not defend himself from it with his sword, nor did his armor prove efficient against the magic, and he felt an intense burn on his left arm when the snake struck there and exploded. 

Kahleen looked left, and then right at each group of combatants, finally allowing her gaze to remain in the middle of them. She nodded to herself and begun to channel essence around her body. Just then, a single arcane word was uttered from afar, its source no other than Ignus, who had been waiting for her to make the move. The shaman felt constricting forces forming around her, attempting to leave her paralyzed, and she made a supreme effort through her tiredness to resist the power. As soon as it had started, it went away, and her body relaxed, allowing her to finish the spell. 

Seeing Darius more hurt than ever, Hantel rushed to his aid as quickly as his debilitated body allowed, and he somehow avoided the thrashing roots by smacking them out of his way with his trusted staff. He made it right behind the soldier and prayed to Berethor for a healing spell, not for the last time in the day, he knew. Darius felt his recent burn go away, but his earlier injuries remained there nonetheless. 

Renewed by Hantel’s magic, Darius focused solely on the offense this time. The problem was, he realized, that there were five, not one, of the elven mage, each acting and looking like the real one. Darius cut through one with great precision, but after it dissipated in a flash he figured it was not the real one. “How in the Hells” he muttered, frustrated. Right next to him, Vincent attempted the same with his weapon, and the woman was pierced by the stomach right before dissolving into nothingness as well. 

The elven mage laughed as she began spellcasting once more, filling the two with dread. 

With his impressive speed, Gilliam would have had no problem in slashing at the mage and tearing him into little pieces in no time, but it was not going to happen: Kahleen’s summoned entangling roots now played against him, impeding him from moving another inch forward. Gon was in similar straits, and instead of attacking the mage he had to take the time to cut the roots away. 

A flash of fire appeared in front of them, heralding the appearance of another flaming snake from the now-visible man. He targeted Gilliam, seeing him as less nimble than Gon, and the mercenary could not for the life of him avoid the fiery magic with his legs trapped by the roots. The snake bit him in the neck, exploding and leaving a nasty burn in that part of his body. Before he had been tired, but now Gilliam felt truly exhausted, getting closer to the point of dropping down from all that he had been through recently. How much longer could he stay up and fight? 

Vincent felt sleepy. Sure, he was tired from all the fighting, but this feeling was beyond reasonable, and his eyes just refused to stay open. Suddenly the ground, living roots and all, did look rather inviting for a nap, and he toppled over…

…but this insistent voice kept trying to take that precious sleep away from him. “Wake up, good squire! This isn’t the time for rest!” the voice of an old man kept repeating over and over. It was Hantel, he realized at length. Startled as he was, Vincent could not immediately shake off the feeling of sleepiness, and he began to climb back to his feet with the priest’s help. 

In the meantime, a small ivory figurine of a coiled whip appeared out of thin air, and after a command word was spoken it glowed, enlarging and transforming itself into a real weapon which floated on its own accord. An invisible hand pointed towards a target, and the magical weapon abided to its owner’s wish. 

Darius had felt the sleepiness as well, and was surprised to see Vincent actually fall asleep to the ground in the span of a second, right after the mage had worked her spell of slumber, and he felt fortunate to have resisted the spell. Instead of targeting one of the shifting images of the robed woman, the soldier closed his eyes and performed a wide horizontal slash with his blade. The satisfactory sound of fabric being ripped, along with skin and muscle, announced that he had been on target. Now the three images bore the same wide cut on their robes by the waist. 

Having released themselves from the restraint of the ever-moving vegetation, Gon and Gilliam proceeded to take the human apprentice down once and for all. He manifested mirrored images of himself like the other one, but the combination attack of the mercenary and soldier removed him of his illusory protection. The man paled at this, but held his ground, pointing at Gilliam with his wand once more, conjuring the deadly serpent at him. 

This time, the mercenary was able to dodge part of the explosion, but his energy was depleted by both the burn and the effort of dodging it. His breath became even more labored, and Gon glanced sideways at him, expecting Gilliam to collapse at the slightest breeze of air. 

A floating whip came from behind the mage, rearing back right before snapping forward, twisting its length around Gilliam’s sword, and pulling back. It was all Gilliam could do to avoid being driven to the ground by releasing his grip on the sword, allowing the floating whip to disarm him partially.

 Vincent and Darius were confident that they could finish the elven mage on their own, especially now that she had been caught fully by the moving roots, rendering her immobile. Vincent thrust forward with his spear, but he heard a voice from farther ahead tell him a message of great importance, stopping his attack. 

“_Do not strike her with the spear, it will cause you your death!_”.

Not wanting to meet his end, Vincent promptly dropped the weapon, opting to punch at the mage instead. His attack was clumsy, to say the least, and he did not even hit a fake image. Darius was so flabbergasted by this that he stayed his own strike, staring at the squire in silent disbelief. 

The blond soldier was drawn from his stupefaction by a high pitched screech that came from above. An abnormally large bat was flying fifteen feet from the ground, moving swiftly to the space behind the two mages, looking for something or someone.  

Not far away, Gon feinted low with his sword, making his overhead chop unavoidable to the fragile mage, cutting a long wound on the side of the head, bypassing his magical wards. Gilliam would have added his own right there and then, but he felt like dropping dead rather than fighting. A surge of energy came into his body like a rushing river passed through an opened dam, restoring part of his potency.

“Thanks, Han” he said while stepping forward and slashing the already hurt mage across the chest. Now it was the mage’s turn to look at the verge of annihilation, his eyes shining with fear of his demise. 

It was strange for Kahleen to obtain the shape of a bat, mostly since she had not been in it for a long time, as the animal’s sonar was its only source of perception to guide itself. Still, for the purpose she needed it now, it would have to suffice. She flew over past the humanoid shapes that were moving about, making a beeline towards the solitary person not far away from the rest. Her sonar informed her that the robed man was moving his arms about, but no more. She could only hope to reach him in time. 

Kahleen swooped down upon Ignus, claws outstretched, just as the illusionist finalized his spell. A spark appeared on his open palm, which quickly multiplied into thousands of other sparks as Ignus reached out for the shapeshifted shaman and grasped her foot firmly. 

“They say I’m quite the _electrifying_ fellow” Ignus commented casually. “Or at least, that’s what the spirits of the people I killed with this spell said” he added, right before he unleashed the electricity of the spell.

Kahleen felt as if every cell of her body went on fire from one moment to the next, and everything went black.


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## Cerulean_Wings (Feb 24, 2008)

How happy am I with this last chapter? Uber-happy, that's how happy I am   

After you read it, why don't you let me know if you're happy as well? Pretty please?   


Chapter 31

*Determination and faith*

The elven mage, trapped by the entangling roots, could not hope to move away from the pair of fighters in order to cast a spell safely. Out of options, she attempted to conjure her magic defensively, putting extra effort into avoiding getting hit in the midst of the spell. Blue fire manifested on her hands, burning intensely, but leaving the caster unaffected. She finished the spell with a wide arm movement, and the fires intensified.

Nothing happened. The fire stayed there, and slowly began to dissipate. Disbelief and panic could easily be seen in the woman’s face as she saw her only means of defense gone. 

Her companion, the human mage, was greatly wounded due to Gon and Gilliam’s efforts. He did not have the strength to pull off another spell, or even activate his wand, and saw only death forthcoming for him at the hands of the two men in front of him. With a mighty effort, the man clasped his ruby necklace tightly and yanked another ruby free with one hand.

“To the Hells with you!” the mage shouted with a hint of madness, right before throwing the ruby at his feet. Everyone in the vicinity knew what was forthcoming, but none could do anything but watch.

*Boom*

From the point of the explosion, raging flames rushed in a radius of twenty feet with unstoppable power, burning everything in their wake. This included the four warriors, the priest, and at the same time, the other apprentice. The latter collapsed dead from the severe burns she received, unable to draw another breath. 

The only ones who managed to avoid part of the fireball were Gilliam and Darius; Vincent’s ring once again defended him from fire, and Gon’s reflexes faltered as he did not see the suicide maneuver in time. Hantel was burned as well, but since he had healed his earlier burns the priest did not lose his footing. 

With the two mages dead, this only left one thing.

“Ignus” Darius said with his gaze focused ahead where the giant bat that was Kahleen was being electrocuted by an invisible force. 

Gilliam was about to dash forward when his sixth sense kicked in, telling him to dodge. He ducked just in time, and the animated whip’s coil cracked an inch above his head. “How do you stop it?” he asked no one in particular.  

The darkness gave way as soon as Kahleen focused her senses back into reality. Her animal body had spasms in short intervals, but she could somehow manage to stay in the air. Ignus had not moved from his position, and with her sonar the shaman was able to spot the invisible wizard. With a wild screech, Kahleen swooped down and clawed at him, drawing a pair of gashed in his shoulders, ripping the fabric of the robe in those places. 

“My, aren’t you persistent” the illusionist observed, not really wounded from the attack. He was about to conjure more magic to bring Kahleen down once and for all, but the sounds of an exploding fireball drew his attention elsewhere. 

His two apprentices were now dead, apparently due to one’s exploding ruby. The other five threats, however, were still alive and able to cause him harm. Ignus quickly assessed that Gilliam and Gon would be able to reach him in no time, living roots or not, while Vincent and Darius had been caught by the moving vegetation.

Putting his own safety above the desire to slaughter the weakened bat-shaman, Ignus chanted a spell swiftly, just as both Gilliam and Gon ran after him. They could not see him, but Kahleen’s attack gave him a general idea of his current position. The floating whip could not keep up with the mercenary, and it was unable to smack him as he moved away. 

After finishing the spell, Ignus began to elevate from the ground, defying the laws of gravity due to the power he had just invoked. Kahleen had other things in mind, though, and she assaulted the illusionist once more, causing yet another pair of wounds. The trailing blood now began to betray the mage’s invisibility. 

Gilliam had no clue about what to do. From the looks of it, Ignus was beginning to float in the air, and there was little chance he could catch him once he got airborne. In a stroke of genius, the mercenary dropped his remaining bastard sword as he drew forth two throwing daggers. Gon seemed to catch on, and he drew his own small blade as well. 

As one, they jumped high as they reached Ignus, their arms up in the air with their weapons aiming forward. For a moment it looked like they were about to fall facedown to the ground, tet both warriors had luck on their side, and their knives cut through Ignus’ thick robes, allowing them to hold onto the mage. They looked as if they were climbing an invisible cliff.

Ignus’ ascent was abruptly halted then, since his spell had a limit on how much weight it could lift up. The mage hovered merely ten feet from the ground, with two men hanging from him with knives and hands, and a giant bat stationed right next to him. Things could not have gone any more awry for Ignus.

“I’m afraid you’ll have to release me” he informed the two below him as he started to speak words of arcane power. “Or _else_”. When the spell was completed, a dark pulsating aura coated Ignus’ silhouette from head to toe. Its intended effect became obvious when Gilliam and Gon felt dark energies hurt them in virtue of being in contact with Ignus. 

“How long can you hold on to me, I wonder?” the arrogant mage said almost to himself. Kahleen would have attacked him once more, if only that dangerous aura was not there, for her current situation was one of rapidly depleting energies. The shaman channeled an amber essence around her in order to heal part of the hurt from Ignus’ shocking grasp, and then stayed afloat next to the mage. 

“God forsaken roots!” Darius cursed as he hacked several of the impeding vegetation away with a heavy two-handed slash. Still, the things kept growing back rapidly, keeping him and Vincent in one spot, as much as they would have liked to help their companions.

Vincent’s spear was not suited for disposing of roots, and the squire felt he would reach the others by nightfall at the rate he was advancing. Ignus, the floating invisible figure Gon and Gilliam clung to, was merely thirty feet away, but with the roots obstructing their movement it seemed like thirty miles. 

“Han, can’t you do anything about this entanglement?” Vincent asked the priest with trepidation. Hantel had remained behind, weary of approaching the mage, and he, too, had succumbed to the grasping roots. “I’m afraid not, Vincent; I haven’t prayed for a spell to do such a thing this morning”. 

“If we don’t get to them soon, they’ll die” Darius pressed, not relenting one moment in his rapid hacking of plants that came after him. “Whatever spell Ignus cast on himself is hurting them badly”. 

And indeed, that was the case. Kahleen still felt too weakened to launch an all-out assault on Ignus, and neither mercenary or rogue could do much from their position, save for preventing him from flying away. That sole action was costing them, for every five seconds the black aura pulsated, sending ripples of negative energy into their bodies. 

In the end, it was a game of inertia for Ignus, for he would win in virtue of stalling things until everyone around him died. The situation had gone from bad to desperate. 

But when desperation gets a solid grip in the hearts of brave men, some of them resorted for something beyond mundane, physical means, in order to defeat that which seemed insurmountable. Some call forth determination, while others resort to faith.    

Vincent Ender, squire of House Kashtar, had both, and until then he did not know this was the case. He looked at his spear, then at the spot where Ignus floated invisible from sight. The squire turned his head to face the Seer of Berethor, situated right next to him. Hantel was holding the symbol of his deity firmly in one hand, the inverted pyramid with an eye.

“Hantel” Vincent called. The priest looked at him and instantly saw the light that was shining brightly in his eyes. “Yes, Vincent?”.

“What does Berethor say? In times like this, when everything is about to descend to oblivion, what do the teachings of Clarity instruct?” the squire asked.

Hantel placed one hand on his shoulder as he moved the other one to Vincent’s free hand, placing the symbol of Berethor in his grasp. “Have faith, young squire. Have faith in yourself, to see the way of Clarity, and in Berethor, so that He might help you find the path”.  

Vincent nodded, his left hand holding the adamantine spear tightly, the right one grasping the holy symbol just as much. Instead of trying to run through the living vines, Vincent pulled his spear arm back, preparing for a throw.

“Against all odds,” he said out loud as he assumed the right position “my spear will pierce through the darkness, shining brightly, lighting a path for all to follow”. 

With a mighty shout, Vincent moved his arm forward, throwing the spear with all his might. He knew full well the chances of the weapon actually reaching its target, let alone hitting it. 

But as Vincent said, against all odds, his spear pierced the darkness, or rather, the darkness that surrounded the body of Ignus. It went right through the throat of the arcanist, and half its length made it to the other side. For a moment, the spear remained floating in mid air, suspended by invisible forces, but then Ignus’ figure came into view, his face a mask of absolute denial to what had just transpired. 

“How?” he wanted to say, but only a gurgle came out of his mouth as blood began to pour out. The mage fell to the ground unceremoniously as his flight spell ended, along with his life. Gon and Gilliam let go and landed without a scratch. Kahleen shifted back to her true form and landed as well. 

All eyes were centered solely on Vincent, who stood there, vines still clinging to his armored frame, a look of fulfillment evident in his face. 

“That” Hantel said, “is _clarity_”.


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## Mahtave (Feb 25, 2008)

Excellent post CW, very nicely done.  I like Hantel's quote at the end the best I think.


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## Cerulean_Wings (Feb 25, 2008)

Mahtave said:
			
		

> Excellent post CW, very nicely done.  I like Hantel's quote at the end the best I think.




Mahtave, I'm very glad to read that you liked it   Thank you for posting your input. As always, it's very much appreciated.


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## Cerulean_Wings (Feb 27, 2008)

Chapter 32

*Self-doubt*

The first moments after the fight was over were shrouded in silence. Vincent stood in the same spot he had been at the time of throwing his spear, unmoving. Without much ceremony Gilliam dropped to his knees and took several deep breaths. Meanwhile, Gon looked around, contemplating the corpses of the two apprentices with interest, and Darius kept his eyes on Vincent, looking serious. Kahleen healed her wounds with a flash of amber that shone around her figure, and Hantel did the same, although his magic came in a cerulean aura. 

Gon began to rummage through the bodies of the apprentices without a word, doing the same with Ignus once he was done. Shaman and Seer went to ease the injuries of the rest, using their remaining magic to do so, and the former cancelled her entanglement spell. At length, Vincent came out of what looked like a trance and walked over to the corpse of the illusionist, plucking his weapon of choice out from its perforated neck. 

“Now that he’s dead we won’t have to bother about watching our backs” Gilliam said with obvious relief. “There’s no one to chase us to the end of the world”.

Darius was busy with wiping his blade with a spare cloth, but he heard the words just fine. “However, we still don’t know why he was after us in the first place” the soldier said. “There could be more like him, waiting to take his spot once he goes down”.

“If they come, we shall deal with them just like we’ve done with Ignus”.

It had been Vincent who said those words, and the conviction with which he did so made the rest feel as if there was no other option, if only for a moment. “Well put, squire” Hantel praised with a smile as he finished his healing spell on him. 

“Feh, they barely have anything” Gon was complaining. “Even the all-powerful Ignus barely has items of use”. The roguish soldier placed one of the apprentice’s robes on the ground in order to display the items he had acquired through the body-search. The objects included Ignus’ robe, which was etched in runes along the sleeves; the two wands from the apprentices, several magic scrolls from the illusionist, along with a pendant he had been wearing and a pair of silver bracers. 

“All magical” Kahleen observed after summoning a simple power to assess the item’s essence. Gon smiled proudly and folded his arms across his chest. “I’ve got a good eye for this kind of thing, y’know?”. The rest gathered around the display in order to take a better look. 

Bending down on his knees a bit, Gilliam scanned each object for a brief while. “We can’t tell what they do until we get an experienced arcane user to do so” he said with a sigh. “This will have to wait until Tidebreaker, then” the mercenary concluded as he straightened up. 

“_Tidebreaker_?” Darius asked at an obvious loss. “The fortress set up by House Dagoth?”.

“The one and only” Gon replied in the mercenary’s stead. “Geez, Broken Blade, you _really_ need to fill that tiny brain of yours with more worldly knowledge!” the red-haired man said with exasperation. This drew a scowl from Darius. Before the blond soldier could give his opinion over Gon’s intellect, Kahleen interjected.

“We should make it there in five days, which means we’ll have to hunt in order to have something to eat” she informed the group in her serene voice. In normal circumstances, the notion would’ve been accepted without so much as a blink; yet these were not normal circumstances by any means, as the Spirit Wood was not a typical forest in which one with expertise can easily catch animals for dinner. The expression that formed on Gilliam’s face pretty much indicated how much he was looking forward to hunting in the enchanted woods. 

“As long as Berethor guides us, we will be fine”.

It was not Hantel who said this, but Vincent, leaving the others quite surprised, and the priest quite happy. “Indeed, that’s all we really need, in the end” the aged priest agreed with a nod. 

Gon wrapped all the items in the cloak they laid on and begun to stuff it into his backpack. “I’m ready” he announced. Gilliam recovered his swords, and as he bent down to do so noticed something peculiar. “What’s this?” he wondered as he picked up a small ivory token shaped like a whip. Like the whip that had attacked him not long ago, to be precise.

“It must be the item’s actual shape before it’s utilized” Kahleen theorized. “We’ll need to find out its command word if we are to use it”. Reluctant as he was to keep the object that had caused him difficulties in the past, Gilliam decided that he might as well turn his enemy’s weapons into his. The mercenary pocketed the token without another word. 

Everyone reported to be ready, and so they walked onwards, their destination the same as before, their path less dangerous now that the illusionist had been slain.

However, Darius remained behind, walking much slower than the rest, and soon there were several feet of distance between him and Gon, who was at the back of the formation. 

“Keep going, I’ll deal with him” Gilliam told the others upon noticing the soldier’s behavior. He trotted back to where Darius was now standing, and saw him glancing around awkwardly. 

Gilliam stood ten feet in front of Darius, hands on hips. “Well?” he asked at length, seeing that the soldier did not give an explanation for staying behind. Darius seemed to come out of a trance then, and he blinked twice.

“Are you coming with us or what?” the mercenary insisted, keeping his tone even.

Darius sighed deeply. “You actually expect me to continue traveling with you?” he asked in disbelief. Gilliam’s eyebrow went up. “Yes, I actually do, Darius”.

“_Why_?”.

The question had Gilliam thinking for a moment, out of surprise. “Because you are a part of this group, and our group is heading towards the north of the continent” the mercenary responded with a rather condescending tone. “Good enough?”.

The blond warrior shook his head. “No. I don’t believe I’m doing anything for this group, other than getting in other’s way and risking my own life. I’m not prepared for this, Gilliam”.

His words drew a chuckle from Gilliam. “Really? And you think that any of the rest were somehow prepared to deal with any of the situations we’ve been through?”. 

Ignoring his words, Darius went on. “I’m just a soldier, Gilliam, not a knight like you’ve attempted to make me believe!” he practically shouted. “And I don’t believe I can go through any more battles, any more encounters with death. This isn’t for me”.

Gilliam nodded as he considered the words. “True enough… you’re not a knight” he agreed. “You’re a coward”. Darius looked hurt by the comment, but did not deny it. “And we don’t need cowards in this group, Darius Broken Blade”.

The mercenary placed his index finger pointing at Darius. “Go away”.

“What?” the soldier asked dumbfounded. “You’re just letting me go?”.

“You expect me to try to convince you otherwise?” Gilliam asked incredulously. “I can’t keep dragging you along the journey, Darius, not anymore. I thought that if I gave you a little push you’d spread your wings and fly on your own, but it seems as if you’re afraid of doing the flying part”. He shrugged as if it really did not matter. “In the end, you’ve proved me wrong: you can’t fly by yourself. You’re a coward, and as such you can’t stay with us”.

Gilliam gestured towards the way that lead back home. “Go. Back to Master Ender, to whom you’ll report what we’ve done so far and of your own self-dismissal” he said with a tone that indicated a settled matter.    

Darius remained frozen on the spot for a long moment, silent; his head tilted down in defeat, his shoulders slumped. He moved his lips and a barely audible sound came out at length.

“What was that?” Gilliam asked with curiosity.

“I said no” Darius repeated, louder.

“Oh, so you want to stay, _coward_?” Gilliam taunted.

“I’m not going anywhere save forward” Darius insisted, his voice obtaining more conviction with each word. His posture had gone back to normal, and he was now facing Gilliam. 

“I won’t let you” the mercenary responded, drawing his twin swords in a flash and entering a battle stance. “You’ll have to kill me if you want to continue the journey” he said with grim finality.

Darius hesitated, but only for a fraction of a second; he drew his own blade at once, assuming a fighting pose as well. “If that’s what it takes”.

“You’d try to defeat me, someone clearly more skilled than you, in order to advance?” Gilliam asked.

“I’ll cut down _anything_ in my path” Darius responded with a slash that was meant to emphasize his intent.

“Why?”.

The question appeared to take the soldier by surprise. “Because…” he began, and trailed off. It took him an extra second to find the answer. “Because I have my honor, and without it I’m nothing, just like House Kashtar or the Honor Guard”.

Gilliam sheathed his blades just as quickly as he had drawn them. “Good enough” he said approvingly with a nod. “Let’s make haste and join the rest then”. The mercenary turned around and began walking without another word, leaving Darius even more perplexed.

A test, then Darius reasoned, and he put his own sword away. Together, they jogged to reach the group, who were actually waiting in place for the two of them. 

“What took you so long, boss?” Gon inquired with annoyance.

With a sly smile on his face, Gilliam passed him by and went back to the front of the group. “Oh, just discussing Darius’ future training”.

“Training?” the rest, Darius included, asked.

“Yes, _knightly_ training” Gilliam responded matter-of-factly.


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## Cerulean_Wings (Feb 29, 2008)

Still here. Mwahahahaha!   

Reading: Nuklear Age. Why did I find out about this Golden Jewel just now? Why not, like, ten years ago? Wait, it hadn't been written back then...   

Here, have a chapter 



Chapter 33

*Forked paths*

Darius blocked the incoming slash with his blade, finding it hard to believe he accomplished the task, for the bastard sword had come at him with impossible speed and power. He did not have time for a counter, for another such blade was making its way towards him, without giving him a chance to steady himself. The swords clanged loudly in the vast forest, filling its usual silence with the ring of steel against adamantine.

“Good” Gilliam praised as he jumped back, his body moving in a tight circle around Darius. “You’ve begun to defend yourself out of instinct, rather than relying on your senses”. The mercenary renewed his assault without warning, and Darius had to improvise yet another defensive maneuver for it. 

“How-” the blond soldier gasped, “much… longer?”. His entire body was drenched in sweat and the simple shirt and pants he was wearing did not escape this fate. “I can’t move” he added after a quick intake of air.

Gilliam’s features darkened. “_Forever_! In battle, your foes won’t stop to give you time to recover, squire” the mentor chastised his student. This did not make Darius feel any less tired, however, and he looked like a withered tree that only need a soft breeze to knock it down. His reply came in form of collapsing face down to the soft grass beneath his feet. 

“That was close to half an hour” Gilliam assessed with a nod of satisfaction after he checked the hourglass he had put nearby. “Pretty good”. 

---oOo---

Meanwhile, not far away, Vincent sat on a fallen tree right next to Hantel, the latter repeating the passage he had just read from the Tome of Light for the apprentice to analyze. 

“The light of Clarity will lead us, young and old, strong and weak, fair and foul, as one, into the realm of Berethor, for he judges not from what’s in one’s body, but from what lies _within_”. 

Vincent gazed at the opened tome with intensity, his chin resting on one hand, and he seemed almost frozen in time for the duration of his analysis. At length, he blinked. “Berethor only cares for our spirits, not our bodies” he said slowly, measuring each word with unusual care. The elven squire looked at the Seer for confirmation, and a brief smile informed him that his conclusion was accurate. 

“Very good, acolyte, very good” Hantel said. “You take your time to consider each passage, but in the end you see what it means by yourself. Very good”.

For how much time they had been studying the holy book, no one knew. And in reality, neither of them cared, for they were too absorbed in the task, especially Vincent. They heard the sounds of metal clanking every now and then in the distance, but it did not stir either man from their study.

The priest flipped the page of the Tome and pointed with his finger at the next line as he read. “And only those who humble themselves unto Berethor, the Light of Clarity, will be able to see the Path. Those pure souls, filled with desire to follow the Path, will strive with compassion, integrity, and above all, peace, as they travel, enlightening others as they go…”. 

On and on it went, neither of them tiring. Hantel’s joy grew from passing over the teachings of his religion just as much as Vincent’s dedication towards its dogma. 

---oOo---

“Are they going to do this every God-forsaken-morning?” Gon asked with a prolonged groan. He paced left to right in a small clearing fifty feet away from the others, excluding Kahleen, who sat cross-legged on the ground in the same clearing. 

“Depending on their determination” the shaman replied with words that were as deep as usual. This, of course, did nothing but annoy the already-annoyed soldier even more.

“First Broken Blade with this ‘knightly training’ business; now Vincent with this-this…” he said, trailing off at the end. He halted his pacing and subconsciously glanced the priest’s way. “… priestly business. _Bah_!”. Off went Gon into pacing back and forth once again, mumbling curses as he did. 

He noticed Kahleen’s strange posture was practically still, not unlike many of the trees in the accursed forest. “And what in the Hells are _you_ doing?” Gon inquired without caring for interrupting her meditation. 

“Becoming one with the spirits of the Nether in order to obtain their essence” she replied, cryptic as ever. 

Gon groaned, and not for the last time in the day. 

---oOo---

Other than the morning training that Vincent and Darius were undergoing, one hour that was taken away from their sleeping time, not much talking was being done otherwise, for the Spirit Wood demanded their complete focus once they were ready to move on for another set of miles. The place seemed infinite, the effect only heightened by the ever present mist, and for all they knew, it was actually endless. 

The only one without superstitions about the forest was Kahleen, of course, for she had traveled through it once in her life. 

Three days of traveling later, the wood’s aura was beginning to alter the demeanor of each one of them in a subtle way. Gilliam was more on edge than usual, while Kahleen appeared even more relaxed. Darius and Vincent were tired most of the time, always going to sleep first, for their respective training drained their precious energies rather quickly every morning. On the other hand, Hantel started quoting lines from the Tome of Light at times to fill in the silence of the place, its frequency increasing with each passing day.

And Gon grew more annoyed and annoying than he ever had been in the past. Or at least that was what Gilliam figured, as he fantasized about his own blades and Gon’s innards. 

“Wait”. Everyone did so, looking Vincent’s way afterwards, for he had called the halt to their march. It was the late afternoon, or so they figured, and the mist began to grow darker, thicker, as the barely visible shadows stretched. 

Since there was nothing else he could perceive at the time, Darius felt compelled to ask “What is it?” at length. The squire lifted a hand in the air to request silence, and seemed to be focusing his hearing on the surroundings. 

A quick gesture from Gilliam ordered everybody else to watch for attacks, and each of them drew their respective weapons as they assumed defensive stances. 

Seconds passed in silence, slowly, yet nothing happened. Uneasy glances were directed at Vincent every now and then, hoping for an explanation, but none was given for the time being.

“I heard a wail” the squire informed them at length. His words did nothing but add more tension to the situation. “Like one from a spirit?” Gon asked, a hint of fear creeping into his voice. Vincent nodded slowly, and Gon seemed pained.

Gilliam began to speak, but was cut off when a ghostly sound emerged from the woods ahead of them, not that far away. “You’ve got good hearing, Vince; that thing is at least a hundred feet from us” the mercenary said. “How can we fight actual specters?” he asked, the question’s target being Kahleen. 

“Magical weapons, but even those might not affect their insubstantial forms at times” the shaman responded, looking at Blood Moon with apprehension. “Magic might not affect them just as well”. 

Another wail filled the air, closer. It sounded as if multiple voices were forming it, something that preoccupied the group to great lengths. How many could there be? 

“What the Hells is _that_?” Darius practically shouted as he pointed in one direction ahead of them. A flash of greenish light had appeared for an instant within the mist, leaving no trace after going away. “I think I heard a voice…” the soldier said with uncertainty, gripping his sword firmly in two hands. 

“Worry not. Berethor will protect us all” Hantel said reassuringly, although his words were not as effective as he had hoped, for yet another combined spectral scream filled the emptiness of the Spirit Wood, this time yet closer to the six. 

“I think we’ll need more than one God for us to survive this” Gon was saying, just as a final unearthly screech invaded their ears and their minds, numbing their senses and forcing their muscles to shake against their will. 

The wail announced the arrival of its source, a legion of ghosts, all humanoid in shape, their transparent green bodies hovering a foot above the ground. Each sported different wounds that had caused their demise in life, but they all shared one thing in common: a hungry, unholy look in their haunted faces, a desire to vanquish their living counterparts.

There were dozens of them. As one, they swarmed upon the group, giving them no more than a couple of seconds to react. 

Gon heard someone utter a word with great force, but he could not make out what it was due to the wailing of the rushing spirits. Then a surge of intense blue light blinded him, and his scream was blocked by that of the undead horde.


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## Cerulean_Wings (Mar 1, 2008)

Chapter 34

*Azure Nimbus*

The Path was clear. For an instant, a fraction of a second, the road to Clarity opened, and Hantel Raft was able to take another step forward, getting closer to the goal of his life. He unleashed the divine essence within his body as he struck the ground with his staff firmly, releasing a wave of blue light that engulfed all the nearby spirits that had intended to slay him and his friends. This had the consequence of temporarily blinding his allies, but more importantly, showing each Nether being the Path towards the Kingdom of Light, what some knew as heaven. 

Since the spirits had been derailed from the Path, they never found rest at the end of their lives, making them restless, angry and resentful towards those who yet lived in the world. But Hantel’s Azure Nimbus pierced through that loathing and their essence, stopping each specter in mid-flight like a hurricane buffeted flying birds, and dissipating their incorporeal forms. More than a dozen spirits found rest at last, sending them from the Nether realm to the Kingdom of Light. 

By then, the intense blue light of the Nimbus faded, leaving a surreal after-image of the divine power, along with an empty circle around the group where the first wave of spirits had been mere seconds ago. Gon uncovered his eyes slowly, blinking repeatedly in order to regain his normal sight. Everyone else, save for the priest, imitated him.

Gilliam began to ask what in the Hells had just happened when Hantel cut him off.

“It’s not over yet”.

His words were proved true when the remaining rushing wave of phantoms occupied the spots of their departed undead comrades. Their hands outstretched for the flesh of the six, the ghosts came from all directions at once, possibly more than two dozen surging in unison, wailing as one mad entity.

Without hesitating, the Seer of Berethor struck the grass in front of him with his sturdy walking staff once more, summoning another blinding Azure Nimbus. The effect was the same as before: not a single spirit was left near them after the light was gone. 

Silence was king in the Spirit Wood then, but its reign was short, for voices could be heard ahead of the group. “I told you it would cause them to act in frenzy! It’s because of pure luck that we’re not dead” a man was saying to another, although their figures were barely a dark silhouette in the mist. “How else do you expect me to fill these God-forsaken crystals?” the other replied with equal anger.

They kept on talking about crystals of some sort, but none of the six were listening; Gilliam quickly gave hand signals his comrades for some quick action. A finger-point sent Gon into the mist ahead, silent like a shadow. A clenched fist then told Vincent and Darius to remain close to the casters, while Gilliam himself assumed a position a few feet ahead in order to see where Gon was. Even though he had seen the rogue swallowed by the mist barely two seconds ago and he was already out of sight.  

“Where the Hell did you put the crystal?” one of the men demanded to know with frustration. Sounds of intense ground-level search came after the words, indicating that the second man did not have an answer at the time. The first one began to yell further insults at the other one, making harsh comments about the other’s masculinity, followed by barely veiled allusions to incest. 

Just then Gon returned, and the rogue did not scare the living Hell out of the rest in virtue of making his footsteps audible on purpose when he neared them. “Light armored folk, well armed, only two of them” the scout reported swiftly in a low voice. “One had a small crystal in his hand, almost like a diamond, but didn’t look valuable for the purpose of jewelry”. 

“We can’t just let them go away” Darius said. “They caused the spirits to attack us; what if they’re doing this repeatedly, and causing harm to others?”. Vincent nodded in agreement, and looked at Gilliam for the order to move ahead. The mercenary nodded and signaled to march forward, full speed.

They ran as one, with Gilliam and Gon leading the charge, and in the span of fifteen seconds they reached the place where Gon reported to have seen the duo. There was no one there.

“What” Gilliam sputtered. The rest appeared as troubled as him. “We should’ve heard them move away, this _isn’t_ normal” Kahleen observed with a grave tone. She had an arrow ready on Blood Moon, and did not take it down at the absence of enemies. 

“Maybe they used some sort of arcane power?” Darius theorized as he scanned the vicinity of the area. 

Hantel took several slow breaths to regain his energies, for that lone rush had cost him. “Very likely; there’s no other way a mortal being can elude others so quickly and effectively”. 

“What can you deduce from the tracks?” Gilliam asked Gon, who had started analyzing the footprints on the ground out of his own initiative. The rogue was focused on a set of barely-visible tracks as he bent low to see better, and shook his head at length. 

“_Freaking impossible_” the red-haired soldier muttered. “The tracks don’t come or go; they just show they were here. It’s as if they made the rest disappear”. No one said anything, dumbfounded as they were. 

“Shamans can do such things, but I wouldn’t say those two qualify as such” Kahleen said. “Then again, wizards and priests can teleport themselves over great distances, thus reducing the number of tracks”. 

“I’m not very knowledgeable in matters such as this, but I don’t see what else we can do here” Hantel said calmly. He gestured towards the direction in which they were to go. “I say we continue the journey”.

All eyes turned to Gilliam, who was standing still in his spot, hands on his hips, looking grim. At length, as if resigning himself to letting the two mysterious men go, he nodded and began the march anew. 

Gon started to get up from the ground when a flash caught his eye. Brushing away a couple of fallen leaves and branches allowed him to find its source: a small crystal, like the one the man he had spied upon had. However, this one was different, with a faint green glow shimmering within. 

“Lookie here” the wily soldier said as he held out the hand with the treasure. “This is what they were looking for”. Everyone stopped walking and turned to face him.

Hantel rubbed his chin in deep thought as he considered the object. Kahleen gasped silently and paled, but only Darius seemed to notice this. The soldier approached her and placed an armored hand upon her shoulder, a concerned look on his face. This made the shaman return to her more relaxed mood, and she smiled briefly at him to indicate she was fine. Her one eye was still filled with fear, however.

“One more thing to have identified at Tidebreaker” Vincent concluded, and Gilliam nodded in agreement. “Maybe this will answer our questions”. 

“More often than not, answers lead to more questions” Hantel declared wisely. “That gem is filled with the essence of a spirit, but as to why it was trapped in there, I don’t really know”.

Without another word, Gon pocketed the crystal and resumed the walk. As the rest did as well, Darius and Kahleen remained behind, if only for a brief moment.

“What troubles you?” the blond soldier inquired. The shaman shook her head and started to move towards the group.

“That gem,” she said as she went “such an object was used to trap the essence that was stolen from me, all those years ago in my tribe”.

Like Hantel had said, that one answer brought forth several questions about Kahleen’s troubled past. But Darius did not have the time to dwell on that, and so he went after the group as well.

They continued their journey to the end of the Spirit Wood, towards the fortress, Tidebreaker.


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## Cerulean_Wings (Mar 4, 2008)

Here's the next chapter. To be frank, I've felt like the words took ages to come to me when I wrote it, and it took longer than usual to write it up, for no particular reason. Kinda depressing, if you ask me.

But hey, I'm not going to stop writing just because I'm like this one day; tomorrow I'll probably feel better, so no worries. Hopefully the writing in this one isn't worse off than the average.


Chapter 35

*Unusual guardians*

“This _can’t_ be the place”.

Darius’ was not alone in his denial; the rest shared a similar sentiment. “I’m afraid it’s the fortress that we’re looking for” Kahleen said, the only one who had passed by the area and thus knew how Tidebreaker looked like. 

The fortress was four floors tall, rivaling Valor’s Banner in size, and taking into account that this was a safeguard against Barbarian invasions, that spoke volumes of the impressive sight it created. It was built on the southern side of the river that originated from the Dire Lake to the east, in order to offer added protection against attacks coming from the north. The stone walls were adorned with the banners of House Dagoth at regular intervals, a golden sun with a black background, but not a single guard was to be seen ‘adorning’ its outside figure.  

Or rather, not a single mortal guard. These… beings, large humanoid toad-like monsters, with dark brown skin and fierce claws and teeth, set themselves as guards of the southern gate, one in each side of the entrance. It was redundant to say that they caused panic upon anyone who happened to meet them, even at a distance; but their presence, their aura, that was what brought uncontrollable shudders to the six travelers when they noticed the monstrous beings. Needless to say, they were not from this world. 

“What are they?” Vincent whispered in a barely audible voice. Kahleen took a deep breath, as if to settle herself, before responding. “Daemons, bound by House Dagoth to protect the fortress”. 

“Surely you jest” Gon whimpered, his lower lip trembling slightly. “Why in damnation would the House of Wisdom have daemons instead of normal guards?”. 

Kahleen shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe someone inside will enlighten us, for I didn’t ask about this matter in my previous visit”. She glanced the daemon’s way, and could not help but notice that the thing stared back at her, a hungry grin clearly visible through the mist that covered part of its face. The shaman tried to repress a shudder, and failed. 

“I’ll be damned if I’m going to let a daemon stop me from getting in” Gilliam muttered through clenched teeth. The mercenary’s fists were closed tightly around the hilt of each of his swords, but so far he had restrained his desire to draw adamantine out. He jumped when he felt a hand press on his shoulder from behind.

“Han, this isn’t the best time to scare the living Hell out of me” the nervous mercenary said, and Hantel smiled apologetically. “It wasn’t my intention. I simply want you to know that I’m with you, and so is Berethor, if it comes to a fight against such fell beasts” the priest informed him reassuringly. “Although it would be preferable to avoid such confrontations…” he added sheepishly, as his previous statement sounded like it encouraged such fights. 

Gilliam nodded. “Good to know. Thank you, Han” he replied before turning around and facing the entrance once more. Its iron gates were shut, but he hoped that it would not remain the case for long. 

“Let’s get this over with” Darius suggested. “The more we stay here, the more uneasy we’ll be”. Everyone responded or nodded their agreement, and as one they approached the gates. 

They had made it ten feet away the daemons when both snarled at the group almost in unison, forcing them to a stop. Their breath was almost as bad as their bodily odor, which in turn rivaled that of the nastiest city sewers. How in damnation was Darius able to hold himself from vomiting, not even the soldier knew.

“Who are you, mortals, to dare enter the fortress of Dagoth?” one of the toad-like daemons bellowed, its daemonic voice echoing through the forest for a long while. With its large frame, it could easily reach for anyone in the group with its claws, if it so desired.

Gilliam had to swallow hard before mustering the will for a reply. “We, a band sent by House Suran to remedy some troubles in the north-“ he explained, and was cut off by the other daemon by means of a snarl.

“Your _names_, foolish human!” the otherworldly monster demanded. Gilliam, and for that matter everyone else, felt like stepping back one feet was perfectly reasonable at the time. “I-I’m Gilliam” the mercenary said. With a quick stealthy gesture from him, the rest followed suit and declared their names as well. 

Both daemons seemed more at ease then (which meant no one would be devoured as of yet), and even went as far as nodding to the group, a gesture they understood as “Go in before we change our minds”. No one needed much encouragement to go past the pair of daemons and reach the iron doors to the fortress. Once they were in front if of them, they began to open out of their own accord, as no one was there to manipulate the double doors. 

“There better be mortals-I mean humans and whatnot-in there” Gon said low enough so that the daemons did not hear as they went into Tidebreaker. The main tunnel that the doors lead to was pitch dark, which came as a surprise for the group.

“You’d think they can afford some torches here…” Gon quipped, squinting his eyes in vain to see in the dark. Then the double doors closed behind them, and after the solid of closure, everything was black. “Great. Doors that open on their own, but no lights. Who’s spending the budget in this place? A mentally disabled baby ogre?” the roguish soldier said with sarcasm.

“State your business” ordered a voice that emerged from all directions at once. It sounded imperial and unbending, like that of a seasoned general. This startled the six, but they managed to keep their composure in the absolute darkness that surrounded them.

“We seek to rest here, as part of our journey towards the Frostfell Mountains” Vincent declared. His voice echoed slightly through the corridor, and the response came after several seconds of eerie silence.

“And who has sent you in your quest?” the same voice demanded. This time, it was Darius who responded “House Kashtar, in order to assist House Suran”. Talking to this person in the dark felt awkward to say the least. 

A moment of silence, followed by heavy footsteps. “Very well” the same speaker said. He uttered a strange word, which sounded like a signal, and the darkness gave way to the light of torches that were stationed along the tunnel entrance on both sides. Everybody in the group sighed in relief.

“Praise Berethor” Vincent and Hantel said as one. 

Now they could see where they were: the tunnel was tall, close to fifteen feet in height, possibly to allow daemons to enter without problems. Elegant stone arcs were joined to the ceiling at consecutive intervals, and more banners of House Dagoth could be seen on the walls, following a similar pattern. The fortress smelled old, like it was not aired often enough, but at the same time it did not stink. 

Kahleen was the first to notice a humanoid figure walking towards them from across the tunnel. The elf looked young, which could mean between thirty and a hundred years old, and moved with a grace that almost seemed second nature to him. His clothes were elegant, ideal for the typical swashbuckler and fencer, a combination of red and gold. The man was not good looking-he appeared as the epitome of physical perfection, being slim like a cat, no less agile than one, and at the same time having his body in excellent physical condition. This much could be perceived by the balanced steps he took in order to approach the six.

“You’ve finally arrived” the dashing elf commented, his tone smooth and no less elegant than his outfit. “I worried that you would stay outside in fear of the daemons that guard the gates”. Gilliam wanted to respond, but for the time being he first had to force himself to stop staring at the man; he was perfection incarnate, and it was difficult to not gawk at him with envy.

“Ah, yes, yes, that, the daemons…” the mercenary mumbled rather than said. He cleared his throat hastily in order to regain some semblance of coherent speech. “Well, it’s our first time here, save for Kahleen, who has passed by before” he explained with a gesture towards the shaman, who nodded. 

The handsome fellow smiled. Gilliam felt like his heart had skipped a beat. “Understandable. Now that you’re within the walls of Tidebreaker, you may relax; nothing will harm you here” he said to them. “Unless, of course, you invoke the wrath of the castellan…” he added with a chuckle. “Not that you’d want to do that, naturally” he finished with a wink. 

“My apologies, good sir, but I don’t believe we know who you are” Hantel said with a smile of his own. The elf brushed his snow white hair with a hand in an attempt to look awkward. “Ah, where have my manners gone to, this time?” he mused. “My name is Ephredesias, Steward of House Indoril, appointed by the god Indoril to be its guardian”.

His words were met with absolute silence spawned from complete disbelief. This man being one of the First certainly explained his literally divine charms and appearance. The First were beings crafted by the gods, imbued with divine powers.

“Should we bow?” Darius whispered as inconspicuously as possible.

“I’d say drop to the ground and grovel for mercy” Gon suggested in an equally stealthy way.

“Oh, please, I’ll have none of that!” Ephredesias said merrily with a movement of his hand. “Unlike, ah, other guardians, I don’t believe it to be necessary to demand absolute servitude from mortals”. His words put everyone at ease, and Vincent released a breath he had been holding since he heard the elf’s title. 

“Well then, may we rest in here?” Gilliam asked in an overly-polite way. Ephredesias shook his head, much to his dismay. “I’m afraid that decision is up to the fortress’ castellan” the elegant First replied with a hint of amusement. 

“That would be me” said a voice from behind Ephredesias. No one was entirely sure, but it sounded a lot like the first one they heard upon entering Tidebreaker. A more noble looking man came from behind the First of House Indoril, seemingly appearing from thin air. He was human, and his peculiar motif was gold and black, as his entire regal outfit consisted of those two colors: His jacket and leather trousers were mainly gold with black edges and lines running elegantly through them, while the boots were the opposite. On the center of his golden threaded velvet shirt was a black sun with waved and spiked rays around it. The value in gold pieces of his entire outfit equaled to that of a small house. The castellan’s hair was short and spiked backwards, a mixture of blond and dark hair, and whether it was originally blond or not it was hard to tell.

“You’re the castellan?” Gon inquired with some doubt. The man seemed fit to be the emperor of the land, rather than a castellan of Tidebreaker. 

Gon’s query was answered by a stern look from the man clad in gold and black; never before did the rogue feel like running away at the speed of light was better than to have to endure that look. 

“You doubt my claim, Gon, soldier of the Honor Guard?” the castellan asked, sounding very much like a king, with his potent voice resounding within the fortress’ tunnel. Gon swallowed hard and shook his head violently. He looked rather pale, Darius noticed, pretty much at the same time that Gon had not revealed his name yet.  

“Now now, no reason to put extra pressure on your guests, is there?” Ephredesias said in an effort to put the castellan at ease. The imperial human appeared to pay no heed to this, which spoke volumes of his standing, for he had just ignored one of the First. 

“Tidebreaker is one of the most powerful fortresses crafted by House Dagoth, and only I have the say about who stays and who doesn’t” the man went on, settling his penetrating gaze upon the other five. “I am Tallernos, the Black Sun, the initial First created by the god Dagoth”. 

This revelation was the final nail on the coffin where the group’s worst fears laid. No one had seen the man until then, but only extremely ignorant folks did not know about him, or rather, his iron fisted behavior. No one made a move, fearful, and rightly so, of divine retribution.  

“Your motives are sufficient to me” Tallernos said at length. “You may rest here for a day, and utilize the facilities of the fortress as well, which include the arcanists and smith”. With that, the castellan turned and began to walk away, clearly not seeing the group’s response as important. Ephredesias shrugged, as it was beyond his control, and followed suit after a quick salute.

“Wait” Kahleen called. “What now?” the castellan asked with a hint of impatience as he stopped walking and half-turned to look at the shaman, making Indoril’s First stopped as well. She gestured towards Gon, and for a brief moment he did not have a clue of what to do. Then he quickly dug into his pocket, bringing a gem with a green glow into view.

“_Crystalline essence_” Tallernos gasped, something that concerned the others. The castellan was suddenly right in front of Gon, even though he had been several feet away from the soldier a second ago, staring at the mysterious gem with intent. 

“We must talk about this in private” he concluded with a dead serious demeanor. His words were directed to the six, and they all nodded firmly. With that settled, Tallernos turned once more before disappearing from sight. Ephredesias did the same without another word, leaving them all by themselves in the torch lit corridor.

“Quite the welcome” Gon commented with relief, now that the castellan had left.

“Could be worse” Darius replied. This drew an incredulous look from Gon. “Or maybe not” the blond soldier admitted. 

“Not one, but two of the First in the same place?” Hantel mused out loud. “Most remarkable. Hopefully it doesn’t mean more trouble for any Noble House”. The priest commenced to walk forwards, seeing that no one else wanted to lead the way.

“I’ve never seen to one of the First, much less talked” Vincent admitted to Gilliam. The mercenary half-smiled at his words. 

“Not as charming as one expected, yes?” Gilliam said.

“Yes for the first one, no for the second one” the squire admitted, and he went after Hantel. Darius and Gon did the same, walking at different paces once they noticed they were doing it in unison, and Gilliam saw no reason to stay in the entrance for another second.

This left the shaman alone by the doors.

“I only expect answers from you, Tallernos” Kahleen whispered. “The purpose of that monster taking away my life force, back when I was the shaman of the tribe… is it too much to ask?”. 

She started to walk through the corridor at length, wiping her one eye with a forearm in order to get rid of some moisture that had appeared in it.


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## Cerulean_Wings (Mar 6, 2008)

I don't know what's going on with me. Really. Not that long ago, I was _addicted_ to writing this stuff up. Now... I don't have the will to even think on how to write the next chapter. Could be that several things came to a closure (book I've been reading, story hour that ended, etc), but I really don't know what exactly is doing this to me, in the end.

I'll wait and see. I'm not going to throw this away just because I've been "down" for a couple of days, but I don't know for how long I should keep this thing alive. I'll give it half a month, and see if I have what it takes to continue writing then. If that fails, maybe do something else with me free time, like starting a PbP game in Rpol. Who knows.


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## Cerulean_Wings (Mar 8, 2008)

I've been thinking for this last couple of days about my story hour, and I believe I've come to understanding why I don't feel like writing it anymore. You, the readers, aren't going to like this anymore than I do, but it's the truth: I don't like the way I write this story. I just don't. I tried writing chapter 36, and whatever I typed looked like pure trash. Really. I'm aware that as a newbie writer my stuff won't be gold, but if I don't even like what I'm writing... what's the point?

I'm afraid this will be the end of this story hour. There's a chance that I start another one, in a completely different setting (sci-fi rather than fantasy, for instance), but no guarantees. I feel as if changing gears will allow me to change my writing style.


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## the Jester (Mar 9, 2008)

Cerulean_Wings said:
			
		

> I've been thinking for this last couple of days about my story hour, and I believe I've come to understanding why I don't feel like writing it anymore. You, the readers, aren't going to like this anymore than I do, but it's the truth: I don't like the way I write this story. I just don't. I tried writing chapter 36, and whatever I typed looked like pure trash. Really. I'm aware that as a newbie writer my stuff won't be gold, but if I don't even like what I'm writing... what's the point?
> 
> I'm afraid this will be the end of this story hour. There's a chance that I start another one, in a completely different setting (sci-fi rather than fantasy, for instance), but no guarantees. I feel as if changing gears will allow me to change my writing style.




Fair enough.

I would urge you to remember, though, that we're always our own worst critic.


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## Burningspear (Mar 11, 2008)

the Jester said:
			
		

> Fair enough.
> 
> I would urge you to remember, though, that we're always our own worst critic.




Agreed, and i just in 4,5 days read up on this thread, and i must say, you have an enjoying style, light, not to draining to read, and entertaining  nonetheless...

So give yourself some reast, and try again in a week or 2, maybe then u see things in a different light.

thats my delurking effect anyway..

For myself, its a love to see others write, i have tons of ideas to play, and enough fentasy to fill up the ideas in worlds and character stories, yet i never seem to have the energy nor the audacity to actually write something myself (like many here do on the threads).


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## Cerulean_Wings (Mar 13, 2008)

Thank you for the comments. I _do_ want to continue this jig, so I'll see when I have the energy to sit down and write once more. Or at least something that I deem _good_.


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## Burningspear (Apr 19, 2008)

...cough...


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## Cerulean_Wings (Apr 20, 2008)

Throat problem, Burningspear? 

I haven't written another chapter simply because I don't have the time, and part of me has already let go of this story hour, unfortunately. Maybe I'll come back to the forums with another story hour, maybe I'll simply go and create a sprite comic.

Who knows. I'll see what happens if I have enough free time.


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## Burningspear (Apr 20, 2008)

As u wish, have a nice time with whatever you do , and besides, the cough did get noticed, and that was the point of it


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## Cerulean_Wings (Apr 24, 2008)

Illumination has blinded me, in a good way! 

Rather than writing one massive story, I'll write several short stories, which might or might not be connected. 

Question directed at the mods and rules savvy people: can I start another thread, since I'll be creating a new story? It would be awkward to start my new stories, unrelated to this one, in this thread.


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## the Jester (Apr 24, 2008)

Cerulean_Wings said:
			
		

> Question directed at the mods and rules savvy people: can I start another thread, since I'll be creating a new story? It would be awkward to start my new stories, unrelated to this one, in this thread.




D00d, I have about _ten_ different story hour threads. Go crazy!


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## Cerulean_Wings (Apr 24, 2008)

the Jester said:
			
		

> Go crazy!




Too late, you are! 

Thanks, I'll start one as soon as I think of my short story thoroughly.


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